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dilemmaontwolegs · 7 days

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Angel || LN4

Summary: Kingsday gets a little wild, in honour of Lando’s nose. Warnings: alcohol, injuries, blood WC: 1.7k

Lando wasn’t drunk, but he was by no means sober either. Everyone had warned him the Kingsday event was a marathon not a sprint so he was taking it slow, sipping his rum and coke out of the orange paper cup while the river boat cruised its course.

By midafternoon it was another story completely.

Martin had taken a break and let a playlist continue the party without him on the deck while he went in search of Lando. The British driver had reached the point of being tipsy and fallen into a state of drunkenness where he could no longer block out his intrusive thoughts. Everywhere he looked couples were dancing or making out and he couldn’t help the despair of loneliness that separated him from the fun.

Leaning back on the cushions that covered the bow, Lando looked up to the bright blue sky and wondered why he couldn’t find someone that loved him with the same passion he had. He was always the one to fall harder and knew it was why things didn’t work out long-term.

The half empty cup was stolen from his hand and Lando lolled his head to see Martin drinking it dry. “No more for you, my friend. Smile! It’s Kingsday: the sun is out and the music is loud.”

“Sorry,” Lando sighed, not quite able to muster up a real smile.

“What’s wrong?” Martin dropped onto a cushion beside him and nudged his shoulder until Lando spilled the thoughts he was harbouring.

—

“These heels are killing me,” you complained as they wobbled on the cobblestone. “Can we stop for a minute?”

There were groans from some of the guys in the group but their girlfriends silenced them. You smiled gratefully at your friends but knew they were in just as much pain after hours of drinking in the city for Kingsday. The thought of walking any further to the house party someone had invited everyone to nearly had you calling for a taxi, despite the chances of getting one next to nothing.

“Lennon said there will be tons of single guys at the party. In that dress you will totally pull a 10,” Sarah said as she leaned back against the bridge rail and rolled each ankle to ease the ache.

You laughed at the statement and mirrored her position, careful not to drop the glass you had accidentally stolen from the last bar. “Getting laid isn’t the problem, it’s getting the guy to stick around afterwards.”

“Relationships are overrated,” she said, blowing a kiss to Lennon when he looked her way and raised a brow. “Not ours, baby.”

You sighed longingly as they shared a smile. “I want what you guys have.”

“Well then you better hurry up because the love of your life might just be waiting for you. Wouldn’t want to miss that, would you?”

You rolled your eyes but decided that you would continue the walk barefoot and put your heels back on when you got to the house. Leaning against the rail, you balanced on one foot and reached for your heel just as a drunkard went flying past on his e-bike.

“Ah, shit!” you screamed as you lost your balance, toppling back over the rail and straight towards the murky water below.

—

Martin yawned as he listened to Lando’s long winded explanation for why he was alone and all his friends were in relationships.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I was putting you to sleep,” he sassed.

“Well if you want some advice, from someone in a relationship, you’re not helping yourself moping around. For starters, you need to get up,” Martin encouraged as he rose to his feet and offered his friend a hand before the sunlight disappeared, the boat passing under one of the many bridges. “Love isn’t going to just fall into your lap-”

A scream pierced the air before a flurry of orange material crashed onto Lando, both their eyes squinting to readjust to the bright sunlight out of the tunnel.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you realised you were still alive and you looked around to see what had broken your fall. “Holy shit, I am so sorry!”

A stunned man sat beneath you and you reached for his face as you noticed the blood running down his nose. “Oh my god, did I do that? Are you alright? Shit, you probably don’t speak English.”

“He speaks English. It’s getting him to shut up that’s the problem,” a man standing above you said with a laugh. “Lando, mate, snap out of it.”

You started to climb off his lap but his arms tightened around you and he shook his head with a wince. “Don’t move, you might have broken something.”

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” you apologised again.

“Not me, you muppet,” he laughed. “You might have broken something.”

You patted yourself down, straightening your dress back into place at the same time, but everything felt fine. You tested your wrists and ankles too, only to notice you had indeed broken things.

“What’s the damage?” Lando asked.

“Ego mostly,” you admitted sheepishly. “I think I broke my heel on your face.”

“Pretty sure that was your glass,” he said looking at what remained in your hand, the sting of the cut on your palm finally appearing when you noticed the blood on the broken glass. “How bad is it? Am I hideous?”

“You are still a 10,” you giggled after noticing he was devastatingly handsome, even with the cut across his nose. Grabbing the hem of your dress, you gently dabbed the blood away before realising that it was a stupid idea. “You don’t have any diseases, do you?”

“Rabies,” his friend joked.

“Speak for yourself, mate,” Lando shot back and while they bickered jokingly you heard your name called from the river bank. “Is that your boyfriend?”

“Are you alive?” Lennon shouted as he ran along with the boat.

“Nope, I’ve died and gone to heaven!”

“I’ll let Sarah know!” He grew smaller as he stopped running and the boat continued downstream to some unknown destination.

“That’s my best friend’s boyfriend,” you explained as you patted your bra but found your phone missing. “Can I borrow your phone? I think mine drowned.”

Lando carefully shifted you so he could get to his pocket before settling you back on his lap. The grateful smile you gave him almost made him drop the device and he had to enter his passcode in twice before he got it right.

“Where is this boat heading to?” you asked as the dial tone connected. “Hey, it’s me, calm down, I’m alive.”

“Good, I’ll kill you myself! You gave me a fucking heart attack, woman!” You had to hold the phone away from your ear as she shouted her concern.

“I didn’t do it on purpose, but I’m sorry for giving you a heart attack.”

“As you should be! Len said you landed on some guy. Is he hot?”

Your face heated and you knew he had heard the question with the curious look on his face. “Mhmm, very.”

“You should invite him to the party and do a little sexy dance for him!”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I kind of…broke his face.”

The silence was damning before you swore you heard her laugh from all the way upstream. “Only you could have the worst luck with men.”

“Trust me, I know all too well. Anyway, they are stopping at the Rose Bridge so I’ll just meet you guys there. Guess my luck isn’t all that bad.”

You ended the call and handed the phone back.

“What party are you going to?” Lando asked as he pocketed it again.

“I don’t know, it’s some house party. There’s a local DJ playing.”

Lando’s smile grew and he pointed to his friend. “Local DJ, ha!”

As it turned out the house party wasn’t actually a party at someone’s house and the DJ wasn’t just locally renowned. Once you were finally introduced to Lando’s friend you found out he was the DJ, Martin Garrix, and Lando was even more famous.

“I can’t afford a lawsuit,” you groaned when you realised you had practically assaulted a celebrity.

“It’s just a scratch,” Lando assured you after Martin found a first aid kick. His poor attempt at wrapping a bandage made Lando look like a mummy so you took the box yourself and found a couple of small butterfly stitches. “Nothing a kiss wouldn’t fix.”

You giggled at his flirty nature you had come to adore in the last hour and if you hadn’t drunk so much liquid courage at the bar you probably wouldn't have been able to lean closer and kiss his cheek. His skin was warm and soft beneath your lips and when you opened your eyes you found his blue eyes staring intently back. “Better?”

He shook his head. “Nope, I think it needs another try.”

“Hmmm, good idea.” You kissed his other cheek and grinned when he pouted. “No? One last try.”

Your fingers delighted in the feel of his soft hair as you combed the curls and dipped your head to his. Your heart rate spiked and you closed your eyes as you kissed his pillow-soft lips teasingly slowly before his hands cupped your face and he deepened the kiss.

You broke away with a small gasp and your eyes were wide with the want for more. It was a look reflected on Lando’s face as he gently stroked your heated cheeks.

“Hey, lovebirds! We’re here,” Martin called as the boat reached the canal edge.

You kicked off your broken heels and Lando frowned before he gave you his, looping his fingers into the straps of your shoes to carry them. You were already wearing his shirt since your dress had his blood on it and you were certain you looked at absolute mess.

“Ready to party, Angel?”

“Angel?”

“What else would I call a beautiful woman who fell from the heavens?” Lando wondered if he was making a mistake and moving to fast like he always did but it was too late, the question was already out there.

“You could call me your girlfriend.” You cringed in an instant. “I mean not tonight, that would be way too quick but-”

Lando cut you off with a kiss and you felt his smile against your lips before he asked, “How about tomorrow?”

#Spotify #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #f1 x reader

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thetriumphantpanda · 4 months

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Scandal-Hit Princess

One Day I'll Fly Away - Chapter One

Chapter Summary | A scandal-hit Princess, ink barely dried on the divorce papers and a lone rancher with no interest in the inevitable media storm following her meet for the first time - it’s a recipe for disaster, right?

Word Count | 2.6K

Pairing | Joel Miller x Princess F!Reader

Chapter Warnings | foul language, descriptions and mentions of divorce and infidelity, Joel being a rancher and kinda aloof and unbothered, mentions of body image issues and stress, mentions of the British royal family, no-outbreak AU, no use of y/n, smut in future chapters but nothing else at this point.

Authors Note | Well, here she is - Miss Scandal is ready to meet you all! This has been such a labour of love for me already and I cannot tell you how excited I am to bring you this story. It’s different, but I love it, and I hope you will too! As always, thank you to @undercoverpena and @hellishjoel who have been on the receiving end of so much shouting and screaming about this! Please, if you do enjoy this, consider leaving a comment or reblogging - I will love you all forever! And you can support me further by donating to my Kofi account if you want to.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Kofi | Series Playlist

Rage is the only thing you really feel anymore. The feeling of betrayal, that’s gone. The feeling of sadness at losing the life you had, that’s also gone.The only thing that remains is the rage, bubbling slowly under your skin. You’ve been sitting in it for six months now, sitting with the injustice of it all, how someone had taken one singular conversation and flipped it on its head. The more you think about it, the more you can understand the conclusion everyone had come to, especially when the man wearing the crown had spun the story to suit him, his family, and his fucking son. Traitors, the fucking lot of them.

It hadn’t always been bad. You wouldn’t have said yes to the wedding if it had, regardless of how big the ring had been. He’d been sweet, charming, and despite the fact that your family came from money, he’d given you a life you could only have dreamed of. Sure, the endless flying around the world to shake a few hands and stand for a few photos, tilt your head down and look placid when you talked to anyone, took flowers from children and gripped the arms of people in distress, that all got tiring, but the fairytale had been all worth it really, until it hadn’t.

When the papers became more interested in who made your clothes, or the fact that the colour you’d worn didn’t suit you, or worse, sent some kind of subliminal message, or why the angle of the camera made you look pregnant when you weren’t, or how there must have been an argument between you and your husband because you hadn’t looked at him for the entire time you’d been at the ballet one time. When the focus shifted from what you were trying to do - shine a light on suffering or simply cheer people up by your presence, to trying to find fault in every single thing you ever did, that’s when you started to wonder whether it was all worth it.

Then came the control. The rules. Don’t eat that. Don’t wear that. Don’t paint your nails that colour. Don’t say this. Don’t stand like that. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t. And it never seemed to matter how much good you did, how many initiatives you visited or how many sick people’s bedsides you sat next to , someone always had something to pick on. You could be the strongest person on earth, but the more someone picks away, the harder it gets to be yourself. But then, that’s what they wanted wasn’t it? Take the ideal woman on paper and grind her down until she was the ideal woman in real life - someone who kept her real thoughts to herself, behaved properly and didn’t rock the boat.

It strikes you now, in the solitude of this hotel room, that by trying to mould you into that person, you became the very thing they were terrified of all along. Someone who didn’t just rock the boat, but well and truly capsized it. It’s something of a comfort really, sat in this room like a prison, a nice and comfortable prison, but a prison none-the-less, that all it took was one woman who’d had enough to start tearing the family down from the inside. And it’s not like you’d really tried that hard to do it anyway - it hadn’t even been your intention. It just so happened that you’d been at the wrong place at the wrong time and someone had twisted your words - and his - to mean something they absolutely were not. If it hadn't been for what it had cost you, a one way ticket to the middle of nowhere and a reputation in tatters, you might find all this quite funny, but alas, there was nothing about this exile - or rather banishment - that was funny rot you right now.

You slam the magazine you’ve been trying to read down on your lap in frustration. The heat in this place is fucking stifling. Who the fuck suggested Texas as a good idea? Sure, it’s a world away from where you’d just come from, and for now, the press, obsessed with you since day one, hadn’t quite figured out where you were yet, but it was only a matter of time really. Someone would tip them off for a hefty sum, poor Nancy and her hotel would be swarmed and it would be up and on to the next place to try and lie low. You’re bored and bored is dangerous.

You swing your legs over the edge of the bed, stretching out your back before you stand, slip your shoes on and open the door. You look up and down the hall, quiet, no sign of Rob, head of the security detail you’d been given following your divorce. It would have been nice of them if it hadn’t been a way to keep an eye on you. You knew Rob was giving updates to the people back at home.

You lightly pad down the hallway once the door to your room is closed, taking the steps down to the reception quickly, stepping on your tiptoes until your hand traces over the front reception desk, Nancy immediately looking up from her papers.

“Your Highness.” Has become the greeting, with a slight curtsey, it’s wrong, but it doesn’t really matter anymore does it?

“Can I get you anything?”

You smile at her, leaning your elbows on the reception desk, cheek resting on one of your palms.

“Well, Nancy, I’d love some of those peaches from a few days ago, do you still have any?”

You watch as her expression drops, her skin tone draining like she’d made the biggest faux pas possible.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” She gasps, “You liked ‘em so much we used ‘em all making dessert for tonight.”

“Sounds delicious,” You smile, big and broad, charming, “What are we having?”

“My famous peach pie,” Nancy taps the side of her nose, “My mama’s recipe.”

“With ice cream?” You ask, adding a wink at the end.

“Anything for you,” Then she adds, “I can send out for more peaches if you’d like them.”

You think for a moment, because they really are delicious, especially warmed from the sun where they’ve just been freshly picked, “Where do you get them?”

“Oh, at the Miller ranch, it’s a little way out of town, but he’s famous for them.”

“You know, I might go and get them myself.”

Joel Miller scoffs into his coffee as his eyes scan the front page of the newspaper. Scandal-hit Princess in USA. He knew she was here. The town was abuzz with gossip that Nancy, owner of the nicest, fanciest hotel in town, was hosting her. Cleared out the entire top floor of rooms just for her. Restaurant closed whenever she wanted to eat. Someone had driven up to his ranch three days ago, asked for a boxes of peaches for her. Her favourite fruit apparently. He’d handed them over without much thought, asked for the usual price and then found himself with a very generous tip, folded into the back pocket of his jeans. He looks at the grainy photograph on the front page, taken through the window of the hotel, Princess sitting pretty, head down looking at the table. The photo is grainy, definitely not the best paparazzi work he’s seen splashed across the front page, but it’s enough to see her hand on the back of her neck and the hunch of her shoulders, trying to make herself look smaller than she is.

It’s a far cry from the woman he’d seen on the TV two years ago. It had been madness in his mind, that the entire world had ground to a halt to watch two people get married. Sarah had insisted that they all sit and watch it together, and he had thought Ellie would have his back, but she was just as enthralled watching her walk down the aisle. Weirdly, he remembers the dress, the white tulle, short lace sleeves, something sparkly peppered through the material, catching the light when she walks. But what he remembers more than anything, is her smile. The way she beamed when she was handed over, hand slipped into her soon-to-be husbands. It’s strange that divorce touches everyone, and no matter how big you smile, it’s always hiding something under the surface.

He looks briefly to his watch, realising he’s late for feeding and those sheep are going to give him hell if he doesn’t feed them soon. He downs the rest of his coffee, shoves the newspaper into the recycling box, he doesn’t really read it anyway, even when the news isn’t splashed from cover to cover with gossip about what that damn princess did or didn’t do, so he’s definitely not going to indulge it now, and then he’s out into the truck and heading down to the barn to stock up on feed.

It’s a strange world to him, this ranch life. For as long as he could remember he’s wanted to do it. Maybe it’s the solitude it offers him, the way he can finally think for himself after years of raising his daughters. Maybe it’s the way that unlike his daughters, his flock of sheep tend to do what they’re told, unless it’s this morning and he’s twenty minutes late to feed them, then they’d gather around his legs, bleating senselessly until he drops their feed onto the ground to appease them. What he really thinks is that it gives him a purpose. He grows fruit, peaches mainly, but a few other crops, that he gives to Nancy down at the hotel, or offers to Steven who owns the bakery, fruit that feeds his community. He shears his sheep, gives their wool to Betty and Ines to make clothes with. Sat out here, on the fringes of town, with more land and space than he knows what to do with, an empty house no longer filled with his daughters, this place gives him a reason to get up each morning. They all need him in some small way.

Once he’s finished with his morning chores - feeding the sheep, plucking the ripe peaches from his trees into crates, fixing up some of the fences that a few of the more boisterous sheep had knocked over and serviced the small tractor in the barn - he jumps back in his truck, the warm Austin sun, blazing at midday, licking at his skin, bringing sweat beading across his body, and goes back to the house. He’s just stepping out of the truck, rubbing his dirty hands with a rag from his back pocket, wiping the sweat from the back of his neck, when he notices a car pulling in to the bottom of his driveway, driving slowly up to come to a stop at the front porch of his house.

As he rounds his truck, he can see that the car is nicer than anything he’s ever seen in town. Sleek black, clean as a whistle, windows dark so he can’t see into them. It sits idling on his driveway until he climbs the steps at the back of the house, rounds the porch and stands at the top of the steps, leaning against the side of the stairs, fingers looped in one of his belt loops.

The front passenger door opens and bulking man gets out, sunglasses over his eyes, black t-shirt and jeans and a bald head. He nods at Joel, one of those classic nods that men understand when they give each other, then he opens the back door wide. Joel sees one leg step out of the car, then another, long, loose-fitting white trousers, then the rest of the body comes into view. He can’t quite believe it when he realises the person standing in front of him, pushing her sunglasses onto her head so she can look right at him, is the same person from the front page of the newspaper. The People’s Princess herself.

“Joel Miller?” She asks, voice sweet, lilting, as she holds out her hand for him to shake when she’s stood close enough to him.

He looks down at her hand - perfectly manicured, soft, by the looks of things, never seen a day of work in their lives - then looks at his, bigger, covered in filth, hard and calloused, definitely not the kind of hand she wants to be shaking. He thinks this must be muscle memory for her, the only work she knows how to do is hold out her hand and talk nice to people.

“I gotta bow or somethin’?’

She smirks at him, drops her hand, “I don’t think that’s necessary these days.”

“Can I help you?”

“Well,” She starts, voice sweet and peppy enough to start to annoy him, “I’ve been eating these peaches since I got here, the sweetest, juiciest I’ve ever eaten, and we’ve run out,” She brings a foot up to rest on the bottom step, Joel immediately stepping forward to stop her coming any closer into his bubble, “And I’ve been told you grow them, is that right?”

“That’s right.”

“Well,” She tilts her head, “Might I buy some more?”

“How many d’ya want?”

“A crate, please, if you have enough to spare.”

Joel spins on his feet, takes heavy footsteps back around the house to his truck, picks up the crate of peaches he just picked, the one with the most fruit in it and makes his way back to the front of the house where the Princess is still waiting.

He offers her the crate, holding it out in his hands. He watches as she turns to the man who opened her door for her, nods her head towards the crate, watches as he takes it from Joel. She stands up on her tiptoes as the crate passes her, plucks one of the peaches from the top.

She looks at Joel, right in his eyes as she bites into the fruit, obscene slurping sound in the air as she sucks the juice into her mouth, bringing a finger up to catch the drops that fall onto her chin, making sure she doesn’t drip it onto her pristine white suit.

“How do you grow them to be so perfect?” She asks, taking another bite from her peach, teeth dragging through the delicate skin.

“Plenty of sun,” Joel shrugs, “Good soil.”

She hums, nods her head in agreement, “Well, thank you for these,” She turns back to the man who has just put the crate in the boot of the car, nodding at him, “I’m sure I’ll be back for more.”

The man offers Joel some money, enough for at least three crates of peaches, but he finds he doesn’t argue, takes it like he did the first lot, slips it into his back pocket. He doesn’t wait for the car to leave, just turns on his heel, heads into his home, praying that her promise to come back was an empty one - if there’s one thing that Joel needs less than a hole in the head right now, it’s a hoity Princess sniffing around.

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ilikereadings · 8 months

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A day on the water

Summary: Penny and Maverick invite you and Bradley for a day out on their boat

Warnings: just pure sweetness and fluff, nothing dirty, water/big bodies of water, use of Y/N

Words: 1.3k

Note: this is my first time writing anything, if there is anything I can improve please let me know! Hope you enjoy :)

❗️I wrote this all myself please don’t repost❗️

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Work for Bradley had been more on the heavy side this week, so when Penny and Maverick had invited you and Rooster on a day out on the water on Penny’s sail boat, he was quick to accept the invitation. When Bradley had told you about your plans for Sunday with Penny and Mav, you were more than thrilled.

Saturday night you and Bradley had a night in, watching your favourite movies and just embracing each other to decompress after a long week of work. Then Sunday rolled around and you were so excited to get to spend a day on the water with Maverick, Penny, and especially, Bradley. Although you and Bradley were in no rush, you packed everything up for the day an hour and a half before you left.

Around 12:30 you and Bradley got to the dock where Penny and Mav were. You were wearing your bathing suit and one of Bradley’s shirts, which was so big on you it went down half your thighs. Rooster was wearing his swim trunks which were pineapple print, and one of his dads old Hawaiian button up shirts. When you got on the boat, Penny greeted you with a hug while Maverick gave you a warm hearted smile.

You talk to Penny as Bradley heads over to Mav to talk to him. “Oh my gosh Penny, you look great! Thank you for inviting us!” You start the conversation. “It’s no problem really, Pete was telling me that Bradley was having a tough week at work and we haven’t seen you in a while, so I thought we should make it a double date!”

After a little chit chat, the boys untie the boat from the dock, and you all take off. Penny had put on a mixed playlist and ‘Dreams’ by Fleetwood Mac started playing. You smiled contently as you made your way to sit down on one of the benches. When you were seated, you took your shirt off and grabbed the sunscreen from your bag. As you started to apply the sunscreen Bradley had started making his was to you. You had decided to wear a simple but cute blue bathing suit, showing a little cleavage, but not too much because you wanted to be more modest than some of the other bathing suits only Bradley gets to see. You look up at him with a sweet smile and he leans down to you to whisper “You look good y’know?” His face changing to a more lustful look. You smile even bigger and hit him playfully on the arm and quietly scold him. “Bradley Bradshaw! We are here to spend time with our friends, get your mind out of the gutter!” Bradley starts laughing which makes you start laughing as well. Both of you calm down, and Bradley offers to put sunscreen on your back.

The four of you collectively agree to stop for a bit in the middle of the water to relax for a while. “Y/N, wanna come help me get lunch ready?” Penny asks, once the boat is anchored down. “Of course! Be right there!” You reply. Turning and kissing Bradley on the cheek before getting up to help. You only take a few steps away before Bradley shouts out “Lookin’ good honey!” You turned and gawked at him, your face flushed, Bradley and Maverick trying to hold in their laughs at your expression. You continue on to help Penny get the food out of the containers and onto some paper plates to eat.

After you all had ate, everyone was just relaxing, listening to music, watching the ocean, and talking a bit more. That’s when ‘Great Balls of Fire’ by Jerry Lee Lewis came on and you just had to get up and dance with Bradley. So, you stood up and grabbed him by the hands pulling him off the bench and into an open space of the boat. You of course knew the meaning of this song to him and Mav, but you also loved this song and wanted to dance. As you and Bradley danced to the song, the four of you sang along and laughed throughout. During the verse,

“Kiss me baby.. Mmmm feels good”

Both Pete and Bradley kissed their girls tenderly on the cheek. As the song ended, Bradley wrapped you up in his arms and spun you around with a smile big enough it was making the corners of his eyes crinkle. When he set you down, you wrapped you hand around his waist, lean up on your tip toes and connect your lips to Bradley with pure love. You took it all in as he sweetly kissed you back, but then you feels his hands creep up you sides.. and he starts tickling you. You burst out laughing and pull away from him, trying to pry his hands off of you. While Bradley continues to tickle you, he lifts you up and walks to the edge of the boat. You quickly catch on to what he’s doing and start playfully hitting him saying things such as “Don’t you dare Bradshaw!” And “I’ll get you back you Rooster!” And finally.. Bradley drops you off the side of the boat, but before you fell too far you grabbed him and pulled him in with you. You both fell into the water giggling and soaked. While Bradley swam over to you, Penney and Mav came to the edge of the boat to make sure you were okay. The only confirmation they needed was hearing your love filled laughs. When Bradley swam over to you he pulled you in, kissing the top of your head and giving Mav a thumbs up. You turned to Rooster and tried to look mad at him, but the more you looked into those brown puppy dog like eyes, your face lightened and you pulled him in for another sweet kiss on the lips. Tasting the salt water on his lips, you moved yours hands to the bottom of his hair on his neck. Then you heard someone say from the boat “Get a room will y’a?!”, you and Bradley separate and looks up to see Penny hitting Pete on the arm while Maverick was chuckling to himself. Just to show Mav, you quickly threw yourself onto Bradley, jokingly sloppily kissing his face and shoving the both of you underwater. When you came back up you swam to the ladder and got back on the boat while teasing Maverick by saying “That good enough for you?” Maverick just shakes his head and laughs at the two of you looking like wet dogs. Bradley notices how you start to shiver a little, he slowly slides his arm around your shoulders and guides you to the bench you were on before and sits you there. He goes into the bag you had packed nice and early this morning and got the towels out. He wrapped your towel around your shoulders and his around his hips. Bradley sits down next to you and once again puts his arm around you and starts rubbing your arm and bringing you in closer to him to try and warm you up. A little smile creeps up onto your face as you snuggle into his side and rest your head on his shoulder. You look over to Maverick who also has his arm draped over Penny’s shoulder, he smiles widely at you. “You don’t know how happy it makes me seeing you two together. You remind me so much of Carole and Goose. The way Rooster cares for you, Y/N and how you guys goof around together. It makes me miss your parents Rooster, but it makes me feel like they’re still here, their spirits in you two.” Maverick admits. You couldn’t help the happy tear that fell down your cheek onto Bradley’s shoulder. Bradley looked at you, then kissed your forehead. “I love you so much Y/N/N” Bradley says to you. “I love you too Bradley” you say back with the sweetest smile and a peaceful look in your eyes.

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Thank you for reading!! If you have any suggestions for change or improvements let me know! I hope you enjoyed!

#bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #miles teller #tom cruise #top gun fanfiction #top gun #top gun maverick #pete mitchell #pete maverick mitchell #rooster imagine #rooster x you #rooster x y/n #rooster x reader #rooster top gun #fluff

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rosewaterandivy · 8 months

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10. a kiss is not enough

Summary: Rumor has it, that hometown hero-turned-teacher Steve Harrington is hot for teacher. The English teacher next door to him at Hawkins High, who also happens to be his childhood friend, that is.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x chaotic!dumbass reader

W.C.: 4.5K

Warnings: No use of y/n - reader goes by the nickname Trouble instead, cursing, sexual situations - SMUT & idolatry (my usual bullshit), real-talk with Nancy Wheeler, idiots still being idiots, Modern!Teacher AU, English teacher reader, History teacher Steve, slow burn, friends to lovers, romance.

A/N: Holy shit, I can't believe we've come to the end (or is it 👀) of this series! When I started this, I had no clue how many people would respond to Trouble and Steve's idiots-to-lovers story - but I'm so glad that they did! This series will always be near and dear to my heart, for a variety of reasons, but primarily for the people it brought into my life (here's lookin' at you, babe!). This isn't a goodbye from Trouble and Steve so much as a see you later - don't hate me too much! Poetry excerpt from John Keats. 18+ mature content (minors dni). Reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated, please let me know what you thought; enjoy & thanks for reading! 💜

series masterlist | playlist - newly updated!

Trouble’s playlist from Steve: trouble will find me

Steve's playlist from Trouble: rebel without a clue

previous || epilogue

Now, May, Finals Week

“Just think about it, kid,” Hopper says on his way out your classroom door. He’d requested a meeting during your conference block, when normally he’d amble in under some pretense just to shoot the shit.

You nod, at a loss for words. It’s not like you needed yet another thing on your plate— waiting to hear back from admissions and not spilling to Steve or the gang was bad enough.

Yeah, you’d applied for grad school (even though grad students were the worst) and Hop had been contacted as a reference, which prompted his little visit today. Apparently, the district had approved a stipend and sabbatical for faculty furthering their education in graduate school.

“I’d like to recommend you,” Hop said matter of factly, sitting in a desk across from yours. “Maybe not for the sabbatical until you’re further along in the program, writing your thesis and whatnot.”

“I, uh–” you stumbled to find the words. “Cart, horse. I haven’t been accepted yet.”

He leveled you with a look, “Are you shittin’ me? Of course you’re getting in.”

You swallowed audibly and busied yourself emptying your desk for the summer, “Well, time will tell I suppose.”

“This isn’t—” Hopper paused in thought. “This isn’t about Harrington, is it?”

“Huh,” you nearly yelled, clutching the cardboard box for dear life. You had been so careful too.

He cracks a smile, “I saw the pair of you at graduation, you think you’re so slick.”

That brings a smile to your face, good ol’ Hop sussing out the goings on like he’d never left the force.

“It’s nothing.” You assure him, “We haven’t— We’re professionals, okay?”

“I know,” he nods, voice lowering as if he could spook you. “I’m happy for you, really.”

A small smile breaks across your face, “Yeah, uh, thanks.”

Finals done and grades posted, you’d never been so happy to get home. Had plans to pour yourself onto the couch and not move for 72 hours.

But life (and Steve) had other plans.

He was sorting through the mail, chucking envelopes into various piles on the countertop. The loft was quiet that afternoon— Eddie had a gig in Indy that evening and Robin was crashing at Vickie’s for the night. Steve hummed a tune to himself, the occasional slap of paper hitting the granite punctuating it.

“Oh hey,” Steve turns with a large envelope in hand, “This looks important.” Tosses it with freakish accuracy, the white paper landing with a thwack where your shorts had ridden up against your thigh.

Distracted by whatever drama was unfolding on TV— something about a crew working on chartered private boats— you mindlessly slip your thumb beneath the lip of the envelope and tear it open.

It’s only once you’ve pulled the papers from it that you glance to see what’s what. The university’s crest shines like a beacon, your thumb worrying over the topmost letter. Steve, the bastard, has stopped his mail sorting and turned toward you.

He leans lazily against the counter, a knowing smirk fixed on his lips. You scramble up from the couch with the papers, too nervous to see for yourself. “Here,” you say, thrusting the envelope and documents to his chest. “Can you—”

Pulling you to his chest with an arm, he brushes his lips against the crown of your head. “Sure, honey.” You wrap your arms around him, burying your face into his chest— warm and familiar.

“You know,” he drawls, “The big envelope generally means something good, right?”

“I know,” muffled against his shirt.

He chuckles, hand coming up to cradle your head. Steve clears his throat, reads the opening of the letter in his best announcer voice. “Congratulations! It is with great pleasure that…”

The rest is drowned out by the rushing of blood in your ears, the tears pooling in your eyes breaking free to cascade down your cheeks. He squeezes you tight abandoning the acceptance letter and letting it flutter to the floor in favor of drawing you closer. Steve kisses you, licking your own tears into your mouth, your taste onto your tongue. And it’s so weirdly hot that your heart starts fluttering again, like you’re seeing him for the first time.

Because of course, just as things were going right something had to come and throw a wrench into things.

Plans for lazing in the early summer forgotten, the next few days saw you coming and going from the university campus for orientation, meetings with faculty, so on and so forth. As you were leaving the grad student mixer, a professor peeled off from a group of faculty to flag you down with a call of your name.

You turn, not recognizing them from the English department. She’s an older woman, has maybe a few years on your mother, and is swathed in a lovely linen dress— the cool elegance of minimalist style.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Holland,” she says shaking your hand. “I’m on the admissions committee and was very impressed with your work on Dante Alighieri.”

“Oh, thanks!”

“And you studied Italian as an undergrad?”

“Certo.”

That brings a smile to her face. “Perfetto,” she says with a perfect Italian accent and waves over another faculty member. “I only ask because there’s a summer intensive in Italy beginning next week that I think you’d be perfect for.”

Your mind reels. The new professor introduces himself and echoes Dr. Holland’s sentiments— a summer session of classes in Italy, in partnership with Università di Bologna, the oldest university in operation in the world. Scholarships that would cover the cost of tuition, travel, and accommodations for you to peruse.

What the fuck.

Vision swimming, you somehow come back to the conversation at hand. Dr. Holland presses a folder to your hand, “I know you were planning on taking the introductory grad school courses over the summer, but I hope you’ll consider joining us in Italy instead.”

You nod, gobsmacked and make your way to the car. Settling into the sweltering seat, you start the car and call Nancy. If anyone would know what to say in this situation, it would be her.

“That’s the thing,” you sigh, wine glass in hand as you slump on Nancy’s couch. “We’re not anything, haven’t discussed it. I mean, sure, we fuck like rabbits, but aside from that?”

She blows a raspberry and sips from her glass. “He’s in love with you, get over it.”

You jerk up, “Okay, maybe,” you allow. “But he hasn’t said anything.”

“And you won’t pony up to do it yourself?”

A scoff as you drain your glass. “I’m sorry, have you met me?”

Nancy laughs at that, loud and bright. “Unfortunately, yes!” She refills your glass before continuing, “Let’s be honest, you’re both hopeless when it comes to eachother.” She raises her brow before you can balk, “Full offense intended.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

She hums at that, head cocked to the side in thought. Her nail taps against the glass with a soft clink. A bite to her lips before she heaves a sigh, “Sometimes he just needs a push.”

You narrow your eyes at her. “I am absolutely not telling him he’s bullshit, if that’s what you’re after.”

Nancy, to her credit, winces uncomfortably at the memory. “No, no,” a shake of her head. “Absolutely not, you would never.” She sets her glass down carefully, giving you her full attention. “What I’m getting at is this: do you want to be something with Steve?”

She lets the question hang in the air between you.

“Because if you don’t know Trouble, you should back away now.” A low warning tone. “You’re it for him, have been since he laid eyes on you, but you’re both too scared to do anything about it.”

You drain your glass to the dregs and hastily take your leave. At the sound of the door closing, Nancy grabs her phone and brings it to her ear, “Hey Harrington, I need a favor…”

Returning from a less than helpful hang session at Nancy’s, you find a post-it note left on your bedroom, door that reads ‘meet me at our spot on lover’s lake. - s.’

Prizing it from the wood grain, you make your way back to the kitchen to scavenge for something to eat, in an effort to soak up the remnants of wine in your system. Opening the fridge you spy another post-it stuck to the topmost shelf: ‘get your ass down here, i’ll feed you soon enough. - s.’

With a laugh, you let the fridge door fall shut and grab your keys.

He can see you now, just barley, even in the indigo dark. Wonders to himself, how are you even real? How is it that you’re mine? An explanation that won’t ever come.

You slip into the cool water of Lover’s Lake like a dream, with nary a sound. Steve stumbles after you on the piles of clothing you’d left behind—bunched up denim shorts here, a threadbare tank-top over there, the silk of your thong musky and damp.

Fisting his shirt to pull it up and over his head, it falls to the forest floor behind him, jeans shucked off and tossed elsewhere, boxers joining your lingerie by the shore. His patience is wearing thin as you wade further and further from him out into the lake.

Little minx, he smiles and takes a breath before diving beneath the waves. Arms cutting through the placid water at a quick pace until he’s occupying the space between your bare legs, and coming up for air.

One arm drags you near, lazily pressing you close, tight around the small of your back as the tide breaks around your waist, minute movements almost imperceptible— the slow roll of your hips against his.

Water shallow enough to tread and keep you buoyant. Steve kisses you slow and sweet, pulling you flush against his chest while you writhe under the water’s surface. Body slick and wanton and arching into his own.

His dick jumps when you lift yourself to drape your arms around his shoulders. A sharp breath replaced with a shaky exhale as he brings his forehead to rest on yours, dark eyes taking in the exhilarated flush of your body.

And Steve knows, under his skin and tucked into the cage of his ribs, near the beating of his anguished heart, that you’re the only thing left in this world worth worshipping. To keep you, and render you a flightless bird, to clip your wings, would be all for naught.

He has to let you go again, and so soon after you found him. From perihelion to aphelion before the moon’s full turning. The soft curve of your throat drawn taut as you glance upward, marvelling at the stars and planets in the northern sky.

“A thing of beauty is a joy forever.” Your voice is a husk, low and hoarse, in the dark. “Its loveliness increases, it will never pass into nothingness.” Your eyes, once fixed on the sea of stars above, shift to him once more.

Closer to the shoreline now, and unbeknownst to you, Steve had gently waded you both inshore, until he could draw you toward the dock.

You let him walk you back until you’re flush against a mooring pole, wood rough against your moon-bathed skin. Body yielding to him as both his hands slide beneath your bottom, squeezing the soft flesh of your ass before he pulls you forward by the hips.

“S’okay, honey,” He mutters—right into your panting mouth with a sultry pull of his lips. “I’ve got you.”

“Steve,” You gasp, “This is unfair.” Your body jerks with every teasing kiss from his lips that he laves and sucks to the column of your throat.

He ignores you, crawling his hands onto your hips to keep you from squirming. Works his thigh in between your legs for good measure. Once you’re settled, he moves one hand to your center a finger trailing up and down your slippery folds. His mouth latches onto the spot that makes you keen, just behind your ear. You fist his hair in both hands at the same time he slips a digit inside.

But Steve doesn’t move. Other than his tongue’s soft licks on your neck and into your kiss-bitten mouth, he doesn’t move at all. He happily lets his finger rest inside of you, gathering your juices all over his hand.

You whimper, trying to shimmy against them, anything to create more contact. Its intrusion lights a terrible match inside of your body, and goddamn it, you want to a forest fire.

Calming breaths in and out. Steady head, steady heart. When you’re able to meet his gaze again, you take a moment to see him as he truly is: dappled in moonlight, forelock hanging in front of his eyes, his entire focus trained on you.

It feels like an eternity passes before he finally lets you have another—adding one more thick finger inside, stretching you as he moves them both around, curling them, scissoring them, pumping them in and out.

Steve sucks enthusiastically on your sensitive skin and lips, fucks you with two fingers almost wildly, and your body responds with fervor. You gasp and moan, arching back into his hand, goosebumps blooming all over your shoulders and down your arms and legs.

You shake like a leaf in his arms, not knowing if it’s from the cool night air or due to the man before you.

Instead of increasing his pace, Steve continues to stroke you with his fingers, slowly prodding at your entrance with a third. Your eyes roll back and get lost in your head as you lean back with a whimper.

“Just trying to get you ready.” He murmurs, so soft and low that your heart stills.

Your legs wrap around his back loosely as he holds you still, his previous two fingers pushing inside gently. The third finger meets resistance as you tense up. “S-sorry,” You whisper, “I’m…”

Your head knocks back against the wooden pier. But you move his hand back and try again. He’s so tender and sweet with you as he turns his head to place kisses on your cheek and ear.

You blink owlishly, trying desperately to weave your threads of thought together. A shake of your head to rattle them loose. A sweet smile up to Steve, a barely there kiss to his lips.

Your eyelids are heavy, breaths heaving from your chest. Steve commits to memory the way your lids flutter when he touches you.

You gasp and moan, arching your chest into his and pulled as taut as a bow sting—back forming a crescent-shaped arc, a sliver of the moon radiant in the inky blue reflection of the water.

“C’mon, that’s it, honey. You’re so close. Almost there… Good girl… Good girl.”

With a cry, you come undone, rolling your hips every which way as you reach orgasm on Steve’s hand. His voice continues to praise you, lips kissing your sweat-slicked collar, bristles on his cheek and jaw tickling your sensitive skin.

Coming back to yourself, you shiver bodily. And Steve looks at you as if you hold infinities in the palms your hands.

You reach for him reverently, desperate for his shape of beauty and noble nature. A dream realized, a wish granted, gentle and true. You feel brave enough to shift and stroke him with determination.

You whisper, "Missed you," eliciting a shudder from him as your palm grips him tenderly.

Relishing in the temperature of his body, you sigh. Spreading the beaded precome at the tip of his cock up and down his shaft. Steve groans, head falling to yours.

“Missed you more,” He hums, eyes heavy-lidded and lustful.

Gasping as Steve guides your hips with one hand, and grips himself with the other. Slowly and without haste, he fills you inch by inch until he’s so deep inside you think he could burst from your throat.

You whimper. There aren’t enough words to describe it— the gratifying sting, an all-encompassing and chilling burn, a mystifying and utter fullness that nearly brings tears to your eyes. You’re fearful to move, to lose this sensation, and afraid to feel what comes next. But you know that you want it.

Steve kisses your lips tenderly, babbling praise, whispering affirmations, soothing the shock that surges up your spine with his warm palm. Slowly, he rocks you back, as water lapping against your thighs, holds onto your body with one hand, smoothing the hair that falls over your face with the other.

You’re gripping him so tightly it takes some effort to slide even an inch of him out— and there’s many inches of him. Sweat collects on your brow as you grind, dragging against his length, forcing shudders to course all over both your bodies. “Is this okay?” you cry, delirious, “Steve? You feel so good.”

He moves in you, like a prayer.

A groan escapes him as his hand squeezes your back just a little too hard. He’s holding back, trying to prolong your pleasure, but his own is chasing him down, only a few steps away from pouncing.

You coax it towards him with faster snapping of your hips against his, clawing at his back, nibbling on his ear. “Come on, lover… just a little more.”

With a grunt and a shudder, and a hard kiss to your lips that makes your teeth clack against each other, Steve thrusts one last time as deeply as possible, riding out his orgasm as he pulls your hips against his.

The two of you feel rooted together, sticky with sweat and so tightly flushed that you’re not sure where he ends and you begin. Your body slumps as you drape your arms over his neck. Steve turns his head to kiss your shoulder before making the effort to pull away, your shaky legs held in his secure grasp.

The black slik of night gives way to the earth’s rotation, stars and moon bending to the will of gravity. Splashes in its silent, dark depths as you broach the shore. A little shaky on your feet, but he’s close behind, sultry and brilliant like the summer morning quickly approaching.

Whispers and murmurs tucked between fervent kisses as you dress. Fabric sticking to damp skin as his hands roam. Frenetic movements as he backs you up against the car, the coolness of it causing you to shiver.

“You should do it,” he rasps against your lips. “The Italy thing, you always loved it there.”

“How did you–” you sputter.

You can’t see him roll his eyes, but you just know. “Nance, who else?”

The warmth of Steve’s body burns against you, a hand threading through your hair half-convinced the moon is hiding there, hanging like a jewel in the night. And you’re a mess when you kiss him. Your breath is warm and so sweet, and the center of his chest squirms like something alive.

In that moment, you love him but can’t tell him, not yet. You decide the sun that will kiss freckles to his face will do it for you.

The song of summer sings out as you load your suitcase into Nancy’s car a few days later. The trunk slams closed and your back is pressed against his chest, his arm hanging casually around your collar. It is the end of May, the first bloom of summer balmy on your skin.

Steve had not taken the news of Nancy driving you to the airport well.

At all.

A sponged necklace of kisses to your throat as the light creeps in. Sheets kicked to the edge of the bed so you’re tangled up in him. Skin already glinting gold in the summer sun. Twisting in his hold, desperate to glance at the time. “Steve,” muffled against the heft of his shoulder, “I gotta go, Nance will be here soon.”

The turn of his weight bearing down, trapping your body under his. A cruel circle of his hips has you shuddering. His breath ghosts along your skin, “Baby, baby please.” Nose trailing down from your sternum to the swell of your stomach. Pausing there for lips to lave kisses on the curves that trailed to your hips.

Eyes dark and heady with promise, “Just a taste.” Lips and mouth delving lower now, fingers parting the cleave of your cunt with a squelch. He hooks them back into his mouth with a groan. “Mmm,” he slurs, drunk off your arousal. “You taste good, sweetheart,” His nose bumps against your clit, “Like honey.”

Breath stuttering in the cage of your ribs, you fist his hair in one hand and tug. Steve moans overtly, pupils blown wide while he’s face deep in pussy. “Steve,” Your voice trembles. He glances up, smoldering and glorious, drinking you up. “Ah—fuck,” before you’re overtaken again.

You’re desperate, and he can hear it in your voice. A quiver in your throat, you swallow thickly mouth falling open in a pant. His fingers work into you easily, dragging exquisitely along your channel—warm and wet, only growing more so with every thrust of his hand. You mewl, hips bucking up as he sucks your swollen clit.

Legs thrown over his shoulders, as he cants your pelvis forward, arm heavy against your stomach to bully you in place. “Sweet girl,” He coos, lips ruddy and wet with your slick. “Doin’ so well for me.” You shiver in his hold, sunbeams hazy with orange glow, the refracting light makes a halo to crown him and for a second you feel blind.

Then you feel something pulled taut in your belly. A chord stretching like a rubber band before it snaps. The wind up is excruciating, Steve’s litany of devotions falling in hushed murmurs from his lips. His fingers plunging up into the chasm between your legs, pulling away wetter each time.

He bends back down, tongue circling your clit at a dizzying pace. A third finger slides in impossibly, a keen igniting from your throat—high and whimpering. God, you’re so close. You babble, hands scrambling purchase against his dewy skin.

“Come,” he commands, “Come for me right now and I’ll fuck you through it, how you like. Then I’ll make you come again and we can go.”

“Oh my god,” you thrash on the bed, hair sticking to the sheen of your face, hanging on by a thread as his fingers drive into you, on a mission to break either the bed frame or your brain, both were fine. In a rush. Can’t quit now. A little bit more. Your entire body is folded against him, insides fluttering desperately, maddeningly.

“Everyone’s gonna know,” Steve promises, “You stumbling in there.”

The image flashes through your lust-addled brain, the telltale sign of him screwing you stupid— lips swollen, legs wobbly, outfit crumpled up, smelling like him and sex in front of all your friends.

“You want it, don’t you, want them to know you’re all mine?” He smears your wet around the sides of your cunt— spit, slick— up to your clit. And then he pushes you like a button, flicking the pad of his thumb upwards and grins at the way you jerk in time.

“Stevie,” you mewl, “Steve.” The syllable breaks, your panting comes out in choked babbling.

You drily sob out something broken, a tiny echo of affirmation as he keeps fucking into you like he could break through. He’s really abused your pussy this morning, maybe gone too far, but every time you come like this, it’s like he’s seeing something holy.

“Oh my god…!” It’s a small shout as you shatter, and it makes Steve’s spine light up as you rub your face further into the pillow.

“Praying to me, sweetheart?” but doesn’t stop those tiny, hard circles, doesn’t stop melting into your body, his dick pulsing as he ruts against the sheets. “You can keep doing that,” he urges, “I like that.”

So, you’re not surprised when the two of you stumble into a nearly finished breakfast, as predicted, in a terrible disarray, and Robin crosses herself before promising, “I’m getting you two a goddamn chastity belt.”

On the couch, Eddie clicks the remote to a new channel, snapping his ring-clad fingers with an offhanded, “A-fucking-men.”

As much as you tried to tell yourself that this wasn’t goodbye but instead see you soon, it didn’t stick. But the ache in your gut did—low and menacing, growling like an animal.

Eddie and Robin were easy, promises to stay in touch and bring back the best candy. Your parents were less so, tight hugs and dried tears on cheeks.

Steve, however, you needed to brace yourself for. Short of chaining yourself to Nancy’s car, you weren’t sure how you’d escape with your dignity intact. He was already kissing on you, soft and sweet, as Nancy slid into the driver’s seat while Eddie and Robin waved goodbye walking back inside.

You slip from his grasp in a flash, pulling him by the belt loops to knock hips. “Stevie, lover mine,” you sing, his palms cupping your ass as his hands slide into your back pockets.

Lover.

What a word.

You think about it every waking second—the way he stretches in the morning, how he sings in the shower, dances in the kitchen, smiles and beams at anyone who passes by—how good he is.

How you love him.

“Mm—” raspy, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

Feet walking you closer and closer and you’re pressed against him. Nosing along the column of his neck, nipping at the delicate skin there, watching as his throat bobs when he swallows.

Hands free themselves from denim confines, a thumb caresses the small of your back. Steve pries your hand from his chest, and brings it to his mouth, placing a tender kiss against your palm.

You hum as his lips brush your skin, observing as he meanders to the thin flesh of your wrist. Hazel eyes near golden in the morning sun as Steve looks to you, face open and fond. Lips featherlight when they kiss your thundering pulse.

Only then do you start to break.

You thought you were prepared. But it steals the breath from your lungs, levelling you to ruin, a creeping sense of hopelessness in its wake.

He’s quick to notice, crushing you to his chest and hand cradling your head. Soothing murmurs of “S’okay honey, we’ll be alright,” and the rasp of your name. Fingers brushing hair from your face with a soft smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

And it is hard to leave him, but you can do difficult things.

Forehead bent to yours, back warm in the sun’s decorous rays, a searing tear-laden kiss and you’re off. Turned back in your seat to see him recede in the distance until he’s a mere speck on the horizon as Nancy tugs you forward.

All the goodbyes had all been said, save one thing lodged in the depths of your throat.

I love you.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington smut #stranger things fanfiction #the kids aren't alright rosewaterandivy #modern!steve harrington #teacher!steve

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harryleatherfit · 9 months

Text

for so long ༻꧂

part 1 >< moving

4.6K x dbf!neighbor!joel x f!reader

𓆉 main master list 𓆉 series master list 𓆉

𓆉 series playlist

warnings: [NO OUTBREAK] divorce, parents fighting, death, grief, alcohol consumption, age gap (reader 24 joel 47), dbf!joel, soft!joel

authors notes: i have been wanting to write dbf!joel for so damn long it’s not even funny. this will probably be a shorter fic with longer chapters, but we will see 🤫🤫

word count: 4.6 k

Cerulean blue and baby orange.

The only colors that made sense since birth. The sky and the water mix together to make a picture, one will never escape the world. The beach, as that would be simplified down to, is simply a get away, a lifestyle.

Your dads boat, the only thing that mattered. The time you spent with your dad out on the water was the only thing that meant the whole world to you. You didn’t care about going to the movies or boys… you cared about spending time with your dad and learning. Knowledge made you feel good, you felt good being about to repeat what was put through your brain. You were in due time to go back to school again.

You were starting 7th grade this year and it was exciting, the middle of Junior High. It was time to start thinking about what you wanted for your future. Your parents didn’t push you too much, but they always put it in your head to start thinking about college. College.

That was years down the road, only the beach mattered. You would only be here for a couple more summers with your parents and then you would have to move away. Leave your baby brother James, leave and become a part of society.

You were fearful, but it wasn’t necessarily bad. You were precautious with what you wanted to do, but you were just a kid and that’s the only thing that mattered.

“Hey, bear. Can you hand your mom and I some more Dr Pepper, and pass me some more bait while you’re at it.” Your dad asks.

You fiddle around in your dads cooler, looking for his bait and getting your parents more soda. You had your journal open and you were studying little film of algae.

“What are you writing about bear cub?” Your mom asks. You hand your dad the soda’s and his bait, hugging him as you rub your little brother's cheek. Your mom was holding him, James was just a couple years old and he was recovering from a temper tantrum. You were always calm with him and tried to help him figure through his emotions.

Being a toddler was tough work, and you always helped your parents with James. Your little brother needed you.

He crawled out of your moms arms, “Sissy,” He tugs at your shirt,” Can I come look at the wawter wif you?”

You tickle his neck and he laughs, “Of course you can James .” You pick him up and set him into your lap, letting him pick up your pen and pencil. You tear out a piece of paper for him, balling it up and letting him throw. He chucks it into the body of water, breaking the algae.

“See James, look at the green and the world beneath you opened. More sunlight, all it took was for you to break it.”

“Wook at the pweety green sissy.” He repeats.

“I know it's so pretty, but you see the fishy? All the little rocks under?” He crawls and you hold him in place at the edge of the boat. He oggles beneath him and you remember how this was his first time getting to see aquatic life. You studied how he watched the earth below him, fastened how he worked.

On the other end of the boat, you could hear your mom and dad start to argue. This had been going on for a while, you didn’t think anything of it and we’re trying to show that you didn’t care. You had to be strong for James, you had to be strong for your parents.

“Jason, that restaurant is gonna kill us, you know that. We have to move from the beach.” Your mom tried to keep down.

“Bryn, no it’s not. We can make it this summer. I don’t know why you always keep this up, I told you I have it all figured out.”

“Jason, stop lying to me. I saw the reports, I saw it all and you’re lying straight to my face.”

“Stop, just stop-”

“Daddy, wook at the fish over here!” James tuts. Your parents flip turn to you, catching that you caught their whole conversation. You give a meek smile, and they try to lighten the mood but you knew this was more than that.

“Bryn, let's just have a good day with the kids, a good summer day.”

“Hello, earth to Bear.” Your dad waves his hand in front of your face. You saw an entrance sign to that lake you were on with your family so many years ago, taking you back to a time you never thought you’d relive again. “I’ve been trying to get your attention.” Your dad says.

“Sorry, just spaced out for a second, what were you trying to say?” You blink, the whole drive you were listening to your dad’s music, trying to fall asleep but you couldn’t.

“James is excited to see you, he misses you a lot.” You hadn’t gotten to see him since last summer, you were kept at college working on your Masters paper. Your last year of school had caught you whole, no time for anything.

James was so much older now, “I feel bad for missing last year, he still plays baseball right?”

“Yeah he’s so excited for you to come to summer games, and he wanted you to come to a team campfire on the beach.”

“I would love to.” You stare out on the road. You missed the beach, you missed the old town.

You had visited for a couple weeks each year during high school, but that was so long ago. Your parents had divorced when you were in middle school, and you were right when you were younger- things weren’t going well.

But the divorce was smooth, your parents remained friends, and you moved in with your mom, and your brother stayed with your dad. That part wasn’t ideal, but each parent was happy. You would always miss the other half of your family but that’s how things worked out in the split. During the last of high school you spent the holidays at the beach with your dad. Your mom came along and you were a family again. They did this for you, a special rarity you would remember for the rest of your life.

But then the start of University, and you never had time to leave so your family had to see you. Your dad and James would hole up near your college to celebrate the end of the year, and after that you’d have visit your mom, she was busy herself, but in a heartbeat you would go see her, even if you had to make the time.

You loved your mom, living with her. Her smile. Your mom was the reason why you were so prosperous in your youth, she pushed you enough, but she always showed you her love.

And on a quiet morning while you were studying, during this past year and your final months of college, you were in your shared apartment with your childhood best friend Lexie and you got the call that your mom died.

She died in the hospital due to a car crash. It was all so sudden, and you really didn’t believe the surgeon over the phone, but finally as you walked into the room, you saw your dead mother clothed and washed. Ready to be buried. James didn’t take it well, but you still had to be strong for him. The funeral was beautiful, with flowers and so many people from your childhood. It was a reunion and you realized how many people cared. A precious life celebrated with love and happiness.

The following days you stayed with your dad and James, not knowing where you belong, what to think, what to believe. All you had to do with them was be yourself, some version of normal.

During that time, that was when your dad asked you if you wanted to move to the beach after you graduated.

“It might be nice bear, you’d get to be with James more, and you wouldn’t have to worry about groceries or rent. You could stay with us as long as you’d like, that Lexie friend could come visit if she’d like. You could work with me, or not. I don’t mind.”

You thought about it, family. Some time to heal.

“I’d like that dad.” You hug.

You still weren’t sure if you had mourned enough, or had taken care of yourself enough but you had to finish college. You had to finish your degree, you had to push yourself. Your mom would have been proud.

Time and time again, Lexie tried to comfort you, and you appreciated it, but you had to be on your own for a while. You told her you were moving in with your dad, told her that she could come visit, and as Lexie would be, she was proud of you.

It was time to move on, it was time to forgive yourself.

And today was the day, leaving with your dad for the summer, or however long you needed to get back on your feet. Passing roads, old farms, signs associated with this beach drive. Finally reaching the little coastal town. The sun was setting, beautiful as could be.

“I don’t know if you remember but the town still does baby turtle ocean thing, it’s going on all summer and people can volunteer to help, if you’d like.”

“Could we- I’d like to go this weekend?”

“I wouldn’t mind that sweet pie, I’ll get James to come this weekend, I remember you both used to watch the turtles so long ago.”

You thought of James' little laugh, his baby toddler giggle looking at the turtles swimming into the water. His youth was so again, so precious to you.

“Over there they’re building a whole new shopping center. I talked to the mayor and he thought it would bring in more people.”

You chuckle, “I guess you beach hoodlums need more retail therapy I suppose.”

“I suppose.” He mumbles, “I miss you kiddo, so much has changed but I’m excited for you to see.”

“I am too, it’ll be a good summer.” That's all you wanted.

Your dad turns into the neighborhood, so many new houses, new cars that you’ve never seen.

“Do the smiths still live here? I remember James played with Isaac all the time.”

“Ah, they moved away a few years ago, the mom got a job more inland but I take James to go visit Isaac sometimes.”

You nod your head, “Anyone new in the neighborhood? Any women maybe?”

“Bear,” He eyes you. You had never seen your dad with another woman, or he had never even mentioned a woman, you weren’t worried but it was time.

“What? I mean there hasn’t been anyone since mom, you can’t rot away for years and not date, you’ll waste your old man potential.” You comment.

“Old man potential.” He repeats. “Nobody wants a crusty man that all he does is fish and run a beach restaurant.”

“Hey… I mean some women may dig that. Who knows.” You smirk, your dad was an acquired taste, your mom did divorce him.

“Yeah, but uh a few families moved in here and there,” He explains, “I don’t know if you remember, but some years ago my buddy from high school, Joel and his younger daughter Sarah moved in next to us. Sometimes his brother Tommy will come around, they’re nice.”

You remember that name.

“The millers?” Of course you remembered them. You babysat Sarah Miller, but you could have never forgotten her father.

“Yeah maybe, you might’ve met them when you were in undergrad.”

“I did, I babysat for Sarah and she helped me with my flash cards, she’s a good kid.” That must’ve been 5 years ago now, you spent so much time focusing on your fucking degree 5 years felt more like 40.

“She is, after that boy Isaac left James took a liking to Sarah.”

You gasp, “James likes a girl!”

Your dad pulls into the driveway, “Shh don’t tell him I told you.”

You imitate zipping your lips. You jump out the car, “Lets get my stuff out later I wanna go into the house.” It was getting dark so you just wanted to bring your backpack in with you.

“Pretty lights dad, so pretty with the water in the back.”

“James loves those, they weave all around to the back deck.” You scope out the outside of the house, it looked like no one was home so walking up the stairs was a hard time. Until you realized there was none.

“Hey uh dad, did you know these are-?”

“Oh! Yeah Joel and Tommy are fixing that, paying them to renovate a little around the house, they have their own contracting brand and I trust Joel with my life. I couldn’t resist.”

The garage opens and you race inside, excited to see James. Feverishly opening the door to the house, “Hey bear cub, wait up!”

Before you open the door you see your dad pull out his phone, and..

“Surprise!”

People everywhere in the kitchen and living room, not many that you recognized but people that must’ve known your dad and brother.

A Welcome Home sign was big and tied across the main wall above the fireplace, fairy lights strung everywhere. Balloons floating about, food in the corner of your eye. The whole house smelled of familiar sweet and savory. The salt musk of the beach lingering.

“You’re home!” James came sprinting to you, causing you to drop your bag. You drop to him squeezing him so hard, you hadn’t seen him really since the funeral.

“You’re so big now! You had to have grown half a foot.” You whisper into his ear, patting down his hair. You didn’t really care if people were watching, or noticing how you were with James, then again you didn’t know any of them, and this was now your home too.

“You saw me a few months ago, I haven’t changed at all.”

“I know, I know.” You kiss his cheek. “Big bad Freshman.” You let off your strong hold, standing up.

“Dad…I didn't know you were throwing a surprise party.” You speak under your breath.

“That’s the point kiddo, a nice welcome home surprise. I wanted you to get to meet some people in the town and neighborhood, but thank James, he decorated it all, took my card and got the food and decorations.”

You pin his head, holding him under your arm.

“This little sucker planned all this.” You chip, looking up at the lights, then to all the smiling people. . “It’s perfect.” You let go, “Thank you everyone, this means a lot you’re all here.” You call out to the group. This was the most people you’ve been around since the funeral, you weren’t worried, but just taken aback, “I was trapped in the car with this fisherman for hours.” You smile at your dad. Everyone laughs, “My little girls back in town, free drinks at the restaurant this weekend.” He throws his fist in the air, an eruption roar swallows the entire room.

“Well I’m not going anywhere, so I’d love to get to meet you all.” You offer, people breaking into conversation, some looking at you, and now the go ahead from James to get food.

“Bear, I have to show you the deck!” James tugs you by the shirt, shoving you away from the living room. You grab onto the sliding glass door, finding more people outside, did pops have to invite the whole damn town?

Taken aback at the scenery, the last sliver of sun spilling onto the oceanfront. Waves crashing onto shore further in the distance. A match made in heaven.

Fairy lights on stakes around the deck, a tiny fire in the middle of the sitting area, warm wood under your feet. None to cause splinters. Your dads fishing gear all propped up. It was the dream house for you three.

“Dad…” You blink, “This is beautiful, when did you get this fixed up? I remember almost putting my foot through the wood…” You pause. “And that dock up there, when did that get put in?”

“That was put out plus all of this shit was fixed because of the Mill-”

“Sarah!” James yells into the living room. You watch her run out to fist bump James, and then run to hug you. She had changed so much, barely able to recognize her.

“Look who we have here.” Two men, vaguely familiar, men that you not only remember because you baby sat one’s beautiful daughter, but these men you remember being very, admittedly attractive.

Dumbstruck filled your body, no words to think. The whole family was beautiful, not having to see them for years was like meeting a family of chiseled romans. Sarah was absolutely beautiful, how was she just a freshman?

Eyes lingering up to Tommy, he had drooping long hair now, but it suited his face. Casual style, he went to shake your dads hand.

Now the man behind Tommy, the man who you remembered, Joel.

Trying not to linger too much, stepping aside with your dad, Joel went up and crushed him with a hug. His eyes opened, looking behind at you. Smiling, not knowing exactly what to say, you observe.

Joel had salt and pepper hair, porn style mustache, and a miscellaneous beard. His jeans fitting tightly around his waist, his arms bulging out of his shirt. Looking around when they all walked in, it got quieter inside and out. You could tell, mostly the women, the older women seemed to follow out near the deck.

“Heard James was the party planner for the whole night, good job buddy.” Tommy praises.

Joel lets go of your dad, “Jason, you didn’t tell us she’d be coming home.” Cheerfully, he looks at you, up and down.

“Yeah she’s living here now, freshly out of college.” He smiles, pulling you in for a side hug.

Looking down trying to think of something, “Thank you guys for coming, honestly Sarah I didn’t know you and James were in the same grade.”

“Oh no we're not.” She slaps his side playfully, “I’m a year older and I get to taunt his freshman ass.”

That makes the whole group laugh, happy to see your brother at least have one friend into high school.

“Tell us again, what did you do in college? Your pops here went on and on about your graduation.” Tommy asks, taking a seat next to James and Sarah.

Finally squeaking up, “I uh… I have a Masters in Ocean engineering, minored in economics focusing on math.”

Joel nods his head, tutting almost in his way of approval, standing on the other side of you now.

“I remember your dad tellin us all about that a few years back, why the interest?” Joel looks at you again, but differently.

Thinking on it, there were so many instances. The beach, boat days with your dad. Just water and animals, the earth.

“Well I guess from a young age, I was fascinated with the science of water life. Making 97% of the world, so many animals we don’t know of and so many that are extinct. It’s honestly all observation and numbers.” You shrug.

“Observation and numbers…” Joel stares at you, not letting go of your eyes.

Back when you would babysit Sarah, Joel would linger in your head for weeks. Watching him and Tommy work in their open garage while you would study wasn’t made for the easy minded.

Growing up either you were never the type to date, too much going on in your life at everypoint and you were focused on school, your friends and family. Dating was in the depths of your mind. But whenever you were with your dad, you remembered that seeing Joel Miller would ignite flames in your body.

No boy your age could fill the void, you fucked around but nothing ever stayed stable. You strayed away from anything serious, because truly you didn’t want anything serious when you were in college.

Joel was older. He was a dad, stable and made a living for himself. Not knowing him deeply was a fault, but something inside you spoke that he was a good man, with no ill intent for this world. There was this coexisting natural instinct being around him, but you were still young. No way in hell would anything ever happen, but you’d like to think in your head he might have thought of you in some sort of way.

In this moment, the passion or even lust you felt for Joel back then flooded through your veins, shaking you whole of your life. Stripping you empty of any amount of pride you had from innocence.

“She’s smarter than her pops, that's for sure.” You grin at him, “You remember in college when you failed that math entrance exam and you had to go to a math class at the high school next door?” Joel teases, him and your dad take seats in rocking chairs, you stay standing.

“Hey we all weren’t gifted like this one and Bryn.” Your dad comments. Bryn.

“How is Bryn by the way?” Tommy asks.

Your head shoots to Tommy, confused.

“You didn’t tell him?” Your dad asks Joel, he shakes his head. James froze and you stayed still, you hadn’t really heard her name in a few weeks.

Joel exchanges between you and your dad, “I didn’t really think to tell him but…” Joel starts.

“Tell me what?” Tommy interjects.

Your dad looks at you, then at Tommy.

“Well uh Tommy you weren’t really around, but Bryn died because of a car crash a couple months ago.”

It’s silent, you adjust your weight to the opposite leg, praying this would pass, this awkwardness of people not knowing what to say. All eyes on you know. The shallow breath sinking in your left ear from Tommy.

“Well I had to get my passion from someone, right?” You stare not at your dad, but the water past him. The last thing you wanted to talk about was your mom.

Everyone agrees, clearing their throats. The simple shared awkwardness swallowing you whole.

“I’m gonna go grab my bags dad, I’ll be back in a little, ‘scuse me.” You turn, “James this really is beautiful.” Pardoning yourself from the little group, you weren't really going to go back to the car, the beach doc was where you were headed.

It was dark enough that no one could see you, and ‘a little’ would be the rest of the night. You loop off the deck, rushing in the shadows of the light so no one could see you. Tears slipping faster than before. You wait a few seconds, then you book it to the doc.

The stars never looked brighter, you made it to the end, and turning around, none of them were looking at you.

Relief flooded through you, no scene was caused and your exit wasn’t as embarrassing as you thought.

You sat at the edge, catching your breath. Today was the most talking, let alone thinking you’ve done in a while. You knew this was going to be hard, coming back to the place you lived at during your childhood, you knew that a part of your life was over and revisiting it with a dead parent living through you was going to fry your heart.

Was there ever a possible way of making out of this alive, ever truly able to live on a forget?

Not properly realizing, but the memory from earlier was your last decently happy one you had with your parents together. More things to be reminded that your mom was no longer with you. How long was her loss going to strip you of pain, eat you whole and never stop?

“Hey,” Immediately you swipe the snot and tears off of your face at the tone of voice, Joel. “Mind if I sit with you?”

Peering up, you nod at him, scooting over on the wood. He sat close, but still with space. He brought a couple beers with him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to cause anything, I don’t want my dad to worry.”

“It’s okay, he wanted to check on you, but I thought it was better if someone else came out.” He shrugged.

“Want one?” He holds a beer out for you.

You nod yes, holding out for one.

You knock it open on the wood, taking a swig despite the horrible taste of your dads beer. You were next to Joel Miller.

It was better, with it being Joel. Instantly your body repositions, counting every breath you make. His scent lingered to you, knocking out your nose. He overpowered the sea, trying to place every note and detail about him.

You look back at the house and you could hesitantly see the whole female population looking your way.

“Looks like you’ve got some fans.” You scoff.

“What? Jealous?” He quirks his eyebrows at you.

He knows.

You look down smirking, trying to avoid his perfect fucking face. Another drink.

“I forgot to tell Tommy, he hasn’t been in town lately.”

“Don’t worry, he didn’t know, no ones fault.”

A few beats go by. The waves crashing for your silence.

“I get what it's like, death and grief.”

Slightly you turn to Joel, he’s looking out on the water.

“Sarah's mom died when she was born. I had to be a dad and mourn my wife at the same time.”

You wanted to say something, but you knew from first hand experience words don’t comfort anyone.

“Does it get any easier?” You whisper.

“It does, it’ll take a while but I promise it does.” He looks at you now. “Your dad and Tommy helped me through most of the stuff, but I had to figure out on my own what I wanted my life to look like.”

You blink, “And what if that never happens for me…what if I can’t do things on my own?”

“Don’t worry princess, it will. You’re bright you know? Better than this whole town.”

Your heart skips a beat. Laying down on the wood now, letting your feet dangle off the end, “I remember all those nights you would study, or you couldn’t come to dinner because you were nose deep in a book. That’s passion sweetheart.” He lays down beside you, staring at the stars.

His words were jumbling inside your head.

Your mom, him. Just moving back. He was so close to you now.

Whatever this was, you could almost feel it. Had it been brewing for so long?

But you were still young, and he was way older. It will always stay that way, and he’s your dad’s best friend, neighbor too. You can’t do this. You couldn’t mistake his kindness for comfort.

You close your eyes tight, forcing your tears to not be shown. You didn’t know what you wanted.

His hand brushed your cheek, swiping your tears away.

“It’s okay to cry, don’t close your eyes.” He whispers.

“First day back in town and I’m already crying, of all people being you.” Choking on your words

He scoots closer, his body warmth turning your insides.

Your breath coincides with his and the tears stop.

“I don’t think he would care.”

“Who?” He says.

“Jason.” You confirm.

With that, he brings your forehead to his lips, freezing as his hand wraps in your hair. He says nothing, watching him get up and walk away.

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imaginechb · 1 year

Text

Grover Underwood Playlist

"Grover wore his fake feet and his pants to pass as human. He wore a green rasta-style cap, because when it rained his curly hair flattened and you could just see the tips of his horns. His bright orange backpack was full of scrap metal and apples to snack on. In his pocket was a set of reed pipes his daddy goat had carved for him, even though he only knew two songs: Mozart's Piano Concerto no. 12 and Hilary Duff's "So Yesterday," both of which sounded pretty bad on reed pipes." –The Lightning Thief

1. The Campfire Song— The Lightning Thief Company

2. Boys Will Be Bugs— Cavetown

3. Break My Stride— Matthew Wilder

4. Cupid's Chokehold— Gym Class Heroes

5. September— Earth, Wind & Fire

6. Count on Me— Bruno Mars

7. 100 Bad Days— AJR

8. The Cult of Dionysus— The Orion Experience

9. Legend Lake— Miggie Snyder

10. The Tree on the Hill— George Salazar

11. In the Same Boat— Rob Rokicki, Chris McCarrell, Kristin Stokes, Jorrel Javier

12. Flowers In Your Hair— The Lumineers

13. Hug All Ur Friends— Cavetown

14. Little Lion Man— Mumford & Sons

15. Natural— Imagine Dragons

16. Strawberry Fields Forever— The Beatles

17. I Lived— OneRepublic

18. We're Going to Be Friends— The White Stripes

19. I See Fire— Ed Sheeran

20. Home— Edith Whiskers

21. Where'd All the Time Go?— Dr. Dog

22. Lost Boy— Ruth B.

23. Team— Lorde

24. Because of You— Kelly Clarkson

25. So Yesterday— Hilary Duff

26. Willow Tree March— The Paper Kites

27. Soldier, Poet, King— Jacob Cook

28. Kaleidoscope— A Great Big World

29. Beautiful Soul— Jesse McCartney

30. Complicated— Avril Lavigne

#toa #trials of apollo #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson #pjo hoo toa #chb #camp jupiter #grover pjo #grover underwood #grover underwood x reader #grover underwood headcanon #pjo headcanon

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clairxandra · 5 months

Text

Okay so

I’ve been finally finishing my four (4) play throughs that are in act 3 and last night I fought (and crushed) the absolute with my bard Taylor Swift as My Feet Can Carry Me

She’s an already successful performer who was touring in Baldurs Gate at the time of the wormification. (The absolute said imma let you finish but -) Now it’s her and her lyre against the world.

I originally made her to romance Shadowheart (duh) but somehow that adorable bastard of a wizard won her heart in act 1 and there was no going back from there

So fast forward 3 months , 4 act 3s and 120 hours (on this file) and I’m standing with the man I assume is going to be my HUSBAND on the pier for him to tell me he’s going to flex on his ex and become a god . Cringe ! But nothing I can’t deal with, I’ll just ask him nicely not to like I did on our boat date where I told him I loved him for the man he is not the wizard he could be, nice and simple

So I beg this man

To stay

with me

And he leaves.

Doesn’t contact me for 6 months

And shows up witherses party to say “oh we’re broken up by the way”

She is … beyond heartbroken

But also

The songwriting potential

So I’m making a playlist of the songs I think my girl wrote during ;

1. The adventure / lover era of the galemance

2. The 6 months of heartbreak era

3. The post withers party era (she’s mad now)

And am looking for suggestions

So far Ive got

1. Enchanted , Paper Rings , Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince

2. The 1 , all you had to do was stay , Haunted , LAST KISS , BETTER MAN

3.Mr Perfectly fine , I bet you think about me , is it over now

She’ll preform a mix of all on her inter dimensional eras tour

Is there Swifty/ Baldurs Gate fandom overlap ?

(She’s adopting and loving Tara btw they’re best friends)

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #taylor swift #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #dnd bard #swifties #the eras tour #tara the tressym #astarion #baldur's gate iii #mystra when I catch you mystra

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ambrossart · 2 months

Note

Last year I saw the IT movie (after a long time and with quite a bit of terror) and I was really very fascinated, so much so became that is my hyperfixation. So, after an exhaustive search (and reading too many fanfics), I came across PAPER MEN.

What can I say, it's TOO GOOD, I mean, I LOVE everything about it, especially Belch because he's my favorite along with Henry (I love Henry). AND EVELYN, I'M FAN OF EVELYN, SHE IS SO PRETTY AND SO COOL AND I AM SUFFEEERING. I want to draw her because she is, she is, is EVELYN AAAHH.

As a Spanish-speaking person who has entered a dead fandom (?? it is quite rare (in my case) to find works this beautiful in broadcast/continuation (some are abandoned or deleted) on both the English and Spanish sides, or maybe i can´t find them fine, Lmao. Anyway, i'm happy :D.

I already said that I love PAPER MEN, but I say it again, I have become fond of PAPER MEN and I can't wait to finish reading it and wait for its future updates.

Sorry for the long text and my appalling english, I wrote this with the little English I remember, my notes in hand and the translator to tell you everything I mentioned above.

I NEED TO MENTION that I love that it has a playlist an Spotify and that PAPER MEN is not only on ao3 and tumblr BUT THAT IT IS ALSO ON WATTPAD.

I've also been working on a little fanfic since I saw the movie (and failing to read the book because it's TOO LONG, fuck), but that's still a long way off (a lot of time, maybe???)

I think this got too long, shit. BUT I just wanted to tell you that, that I adore you because you write super beautifully and for having created and being writing PAPER MEN. :D

First of all, welcome to the fandom!

I don't know if I'd call it dead, necessarily, but it is significantly less active than it was when the movies first came out. I started Paper Men in 2019 (I can't believe it's almost been five years) so I kind of missed the boat as well. Better late than never, though, right?

I do recommend reading the book. I know it's long, but if you can read Paper Men, you can probably read IT (and Stephen King is a much better writer than I am). If you like the Bowers gang, if you like Henry, it's definitely worth reading to get a deeper understanding of his character. But it's totally up to you!

I'm glad you like Evelyn. I know she seems like the Mary Sue, Little Miss Perfect type, but there's a lot more to her than that. Nothing comes naturally to Evelyn. Nothing comes easily to her. She works very hard for everything she has, including her relationships. I'm really proud of Evelyn as a character, and I'll defend her with my very last breath lol.

I'll stop talking now because I'm not sure how far into the story you are, but my inbox is always open if you have any comments or questions.

Thanks for reading, and good luck on your fanfic!

#answered asks #thanks for the ask!#paper men #ambrossart

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hourglass-full-of-stars · 3 months

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#my stuff #polls #hyperspecific poll #wimpy kid #my polls

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crappymixtape · 1 year

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something infinite • part three

SOMETHING INFINITE • PART THREE J U S T W A N N A S E E Y O U

part three of something infinite – finally a day off and you’re all heading to the lake to fish and swim and drink and it feels like summer and fresh starts and you’re surprised to find you get one of your own | ( 3.3k, angst, tiny bit of fluff if you squint, enemies to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader – find the rest of the series and more here and find the series playlist on spotify here )

J U N E 1 9 8 7 🎶 never be ourselves, savannah conley

The sky was awake ages before you were, summer sun painting the clouds cotton candy pink and sunflower yellow. The sounds of crickets and frogs had faded and your eyes were still puffy and full of sleep when Jonathan shook your shoulder awake.

“C’mon, gotta get a good spot,” he gave you one of his soft, but playful Jonathan grins and you couldn’t help grinning yourself.

Finally you had a day off. Not that putting books away was anything hard, but as the sun fell through your open window you could feel the potential the day held. Everyone was going to the lake, the boys wanted to fish, and Eddie had promised beer and spliffs and you could already feel the sand between your toes.

When you fell into the back of the Wheeler’s station wagon next to Dustin your hair was still all messy sheets and morning, but nobody else looked any better and you couldn’t help laughing at the state of you all.

“What?” Dustin had asked, voice still scratchy from sleep, and you answered by roughing up his curls.

Nancy rolled the windows down as you bumped out of town into the woods, the air already warm and thick and fuzzy as it wrapped around you. Hop’s boat and fishing poles were up top of the station wagon and Eddie was trailing behind you in his van with Robin in tow. The trees and leaves and clouds flung shadows across the seat and your legs as you went and everything smelled like cedar, like moss and bonfires and summer and you closed your eyes for a minute.

This was nothing like Indianapolis. No climbing fire escapes at 1am, no paper bag bottles in back alleys, no running so fast from the cops you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. This was late nights eating dry Honeycomb from the box and whole cans of Pringles. A pile of tangled limbs in the back of Jonathan’s truck at the drive-in. Your skateboard wheels rough on the pavement like Max’s with Lucas and Dustin and Mike spinning bikes and spokes alongside you. This was lazy and slow and smooth like molasses. Easy, like breathing, and when you felt the car crunch into gravel off the pavement you opened your eyes again.

“First ones here!” Lucas’ squeal woke Max up and she slapped a hand against his chest.

“People are trying to sleep, genius,” she grumbled, head lolling back on the seat.

Mike and Will were busy pointing out all the best spots for fishing, Dustin peeking over the bench to get a better look as Nancy pulled off the road into the long grass. There was no gravel there, just dirt and molehills and wildflowers and when the car finally stopped next to the lake you thought you’d never heard something more quiet and alive in your life.

Mourning dove calls echoed through the birch trees, the buzz of cicadas just picking up, and the soft static of the lake lapping up the rocky shore chased off sleep better than any alarm could. How had your mom hidden this tiny treasure from you for so long? You felt the corners of your lips tug up into a smile.

“Nice, right?” you hadn’t realized Lucas had lifted the back hatch for you to get out. When he caught the look on your face he gave you a grin.

“Yeah,” you breathed, piling out of the car after Dustin, feet kicking dandelion seeds up into the breeze, long grass dancing around your knees as the sun lit the sky on fire.

It couldn’t have been any later than 9am, but you could already feel your skin all dewy in the warm, thick, summer air. Tangerine swimsuit ties peeked out from the waistband of your jean shorts and cut-off shirt, a spare of Jonathan’s sunglasses perched on your head, the very picture of June and July and August, and your smile grew.

“Day’s not gettin’ any longer!” Eddie hollered out his window. He pulled up next to the station wagon, the sounds of Black Sabbath setting the little spark in your chest alight.

“Eddie!” the boys were on him in an instant, their ever fearless Dungeon Master arriving at last. The heavy van door rolled open to loose Robin with a joint already tucked between her lips and she climbed out to stretch her lanky frame.

“God, this place is so pretty it’s almost gross,” she mumbled, sunglasses crooked on her nose. You huffed a laugh as she groaned, “Eds, I’m gonna need a beer.”

“Aye aye,” he quipped, scurrying around the back of the van for the cooler. He was clearly the only morning person of the group. You were about to offer a hand, but something, someone, caught your eye.

A pair of dirty, beat up Blazers, skin all golden and dotted with moles and freckles, eyes like honey and hair a riot – your stomach flipped over.

“Jesus, beer me too, too damn early.”

Steve hadn’t seen you yet, moving without hesitation for Eddie and the cooler, and for a split second you felt like you were back in middle school. Like you wanted to hide. Like you’d seen someone you weren’t sure of. Someone you didn’t want to talk to. But your morbid curiosity kept your feet planted and when he came back into view you quickly turned away, hoping he hadn’t seen you staring.

No luck.

“Morning, sunshine,” you could hear the grin on his lips. At least he hadn’t called you princess.

Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth you took in a breath, but Dustin saved you from the obligation of a response, “Whoa, you guys know each other?”

“Unfortunately,” you quipped recovering quickly, gaining a snicker from Lucas and Max as you turned back around. Steve gave you a look and you replied wordlessly with a sugary, sweet smile.

“Cute,” he snarked, lips twisting in a tiny scowl as Eddie shoved a beer into his hands.

“Boooooring,” Robin droned, giving Steve a shove as she walked past him and grabbed your hand, “Less talking, more swimming.”

It felt so strange watching Steve with everyone, how he made them laugh and smile. You’d expected them to have to get on him about being an ass, about his shitty comments and judging stares, but it didn’t happen. It was like everyone knew something about him that you didn’t. They all gave him the benefit of the doubt.

Their laughter and teasing coming so easily as they threw worms from the bait bucket at each other or splashed lake water into beer cans and stole sunglasses from atop their heads. And oh my god, the way he took care of the younger kids. Getting on them about sunscreen and telling Lucas to get a life jacket or Dustin that his walkie was too close to the water. Where was the sniping, scowling, mope of a boy you’d met a couple weeks ago?

As the sun crept higher in the sky, morning gave way to afternoon and you, Nancy and Robin found a spot to lay out next to the lake. The others were all clambering into Hop’s old boat and snippets of their bickering fell into your ears.

“Move over, Mike, Max is sitting next to me.”

“Just because she’s your girlfriend doesn’t mean you have to be on her.”

“I’m not on her.”

“Can we please go already?”

“Children. It’s too early for this shit,” Steve chided. A smirk tugged up at your lips when you opened your eyes, but it fell as you caught the boy pulling the soft white cotton of his t-shirt up and over his head and you swore you felt your heart drop out of your chest.

The muscles along his back tensed as he leaned over and gave the boat a shove off the sandy beach and into the water. A whole galaxy worth of freckled constellations scattered across the slope of his shoulders and even if you wanted to you didn’t think you could pull your eyes away from him.

“Helloooo, anyone home?” Robin waved a hand in front of your face and when you blinked her back into focus she was giving you the biggest shit-eating grin you’d ever seen.

“What?” you sniped, hastily snatching the spliff from between her fingers.

“Oh, nothing, just watching you be a creep.”

You frowned and took a drag, “I’m not a creep. That guy is grade A douchebag.”

Robin huffed a laugh and shook her head, “He definitely doesn’t make it easy.” But then Nancy chimed in.

“Steve’s…had a hard time,” she murmured, tone soft, expression almost nostalgic.

Oh, fell from your mouth and for a minute you felt bad, a thread of guilt snaking around your heart. You had your fair share of shit and people still gave you a chance despite your sass and sharp tongue, why weren’t you doing the same?

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, he can be a dingus,” Robin laughed her bright Robin laugh and grabbed the joint from you, taking a drag, “But he’s our dingus. He’ll come around, you’ll see.”

Turning away from the girls you glanced over to find Steve and Eddie throwing rocks into the lake, laughing like a couple of idiots, and you couldn’t help wondering if maybe you were wrong about him. You wished for a minute he’d tell you. Wished he’d sit close and let you look at him. Let you see what it was you were missing.

“You three are much too dry,” Eddie’s voice stilted your thoughts and you realized both boys had stopped what they were doing to make a beeline for the cozy little spot you all had set up.

“No. No way, Munson. We just lit this. Don’t even think about it,” Robin snarked through a smoky exhale, holding her hand up in protest.

“Think about what? This? Harrington, gimme a hand.”

The look on Nancy’s face was scary enough to make anyone wilt on the spot, but you and Robin were too easy. Eddie scooped Robin up from the ground as she tried to scramble away, flailing against him, “EDDIE MUNSON, PUT ME DOWN.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart!” Eddie walked them knee deep into the lake and then promptly fell over backwards with a splash, Robin screeching as they both hit the water.

A laugh nearly escaped you, but it stalled when you saw Steve coming at you with an intense commitment and you froze. “Oh-no-I don’t–”

“Sorry, captain’s orders,” he said simply and then he was wrapping his arms around your waist, lifting you from the ground with ease and tossing you over his shoulder. As he walked away Nancy shrugged at you guiltily. Sorry, she mouthed, but the grin on her face said she wasn’t.

Steve was so warm, like he held summer and the sun and firecrackers in his chest, and as your shirt rode up you felt his calloused fingers trailing along the soft curve of your hip. His touch was electric, crackling against your skin, and your breath hitched in your throat as he rumbled a laugh against you, “Not even gonna fight me? Doesn’t seem like you.”

His voice shook you back from where ever you’d gotten lost and you squirmed in his hold, cheeks burning bright red, “You can’t be serious, are you twelve??”

“Feels like it,” he shot back casually. His bare feet met the lake and he lengthened his steps as his legs pushed against the water til it lapped at his waist.

“Shit, far enough!” curses fell from your lips and he only laughed in return.

Flipping you around the front of him he gave you a boyish grin. You opened your mouth in protest, but the words died in your throat when your eyes met. Pupils blown from the weed. All burnt caramel and honey, flecks of gold swimming in hazel, bright and glassy in the summer sun.

“Plug your nose,” and just like that the moment was shattered as he pulled you tight to his chest, pushing you both off the sandy lake bottom and under the water.

You probably should’ve said something, should’ve told someone you’d never really been good at swimming cos no one ever bothered to show you, but how lame and stupid and silly and as your head went under the blue-green of the lake you felt Steve let go and you panicked.

Reaching out, your hands slipped against his chest, frantically searching for anything to hold onto, your breath shrinking in your throat. Dread was pulling at your stomach at the thought of him swimming away, but it was like he knew and in an instant he had a hold on you, lifting you to the surface.

“Whoa, hey, are you okay?” Steve blew water from his lips, pulling you up, arms tight and warm on your bare skin.

You sucked in a breath of air, chest heaving, and for a minute you wished someone would throw you back into the lake. Blinking water from your lashes you opened your eyes expecting him to lay into you, but he didn’t.

“Seriously, are you good?” he said again. Lifting a hand to your face his fingers gently pushed messy, wet hair out of your eyes, looking for you to tell him you were okay.

“Uh–yeah. Yes. Good.”

“Good,” he echoed, eyes still searching yours at the uncertainty in your voice.

“I–” the words stuck in your throat, but you heard Robin in the back of your mind, He’ll come around, you’ll see. “–I can’t swim,” you muttered, cheeks burning.

“Oh? Oh,” Steve looked at you in a way he hadn’t done before. You’d loosed honesty on him and he felt it. Water dripped off his nose and he pressed his hand gently on the small of your back. “Well…that’s okay. I–I won’t tell anyone,” and when he looked at you, you knew he meant it.

“Could you at least go out a little further if you’re gonna do that?” Eddie’s voice teased from the shore, barely room for lake water between the two of you and you both realized what it looked like.

“Shut up, Munson! There was a crayfish!” Steve hollered over your shoulder.

“Yeah, oookay.”

Robin slapped a hand against Eddie’s chest and shoved him toward the cooler for another beer, trying to give you a minute.

“Here,” Steve steadied his feet under him, arms still holding you tight as he swam you back to a place where you could touch. When his hands fell away you missed it, Steve and warm and summer, and the cold lake water trailed goosebumps across your skin. “Better, princess?”

There it was.

“You know I hate that,” and you shoved him, but it was soft and you didn’t really mean it and he knew it.

When he looked down at you he gave you a tiny, teasing grin, but it melted the longer he looked. And then he said something that surprised you. “Listen, I-I can be asshole, I’m sorry,” he didn’t shy away, keeping his eyes on yours, and returned your moment of trust.

“So don’t be,” and you were serious, but he laughed and the sound made your heart flutter against your ribcage.

“Workin’ on it,” he rubbed the back of his neck and you swore you saw nerves flicker in his eyes, but then he dropped his gaze and cleared his throat. “Eds, beer me! C’mon, lunch,” and he reached a hand out to flick your fingers before jogging back up to the others.

The rest of the day spun by in a blur of laughter and sunscreen and smoke as the sky blew out into pale pinks and lilacs and bachelor button blue. Everyone was full of the sandwiches Nancy threw together, no one caught any fish, and all you could do was think about what Steve had said.

I’m sorry.

He was softer to you after that, his teasing held less heat, and you were both smiling. A lot. Everyone noticed, but no one said anything and you were thankful for it. You wished you could all stay there in that moment forever, held in the hazy sunbeams that glittered off the turquoise of the lake, but the light was fleeting and soon it was time to leave.

Eddie threw his cooler in the back of the van and lazily passed the spliff he’d been smoking to Jonathan, “Robs, we gotta go soon. Stevie boy has to get back.”

“What? Steve. Don’t tell me you’re hanging out with Tommy?” Robin leaned up on her elbows and fixed the boy with a look he couldn’t see.

“And what if I am?” Steve’s voice was flat as he stretched out on his back with a ball cap over his face, fingers laced behind his head.

“Steve,” Nancy spoke up then, tone short. Eddie and Jonathan both suddenly found the joint they were sharing very interesting.

“What, mom,” Steve huffed a sigh and sat up, yanking his hat over damp hair, “It’s fine, it’s not like I’m gonna steal another car.”

Your stomach dropped. Stealing a car? Tommy? He had to have been one of the other boys that night at Hop’s place. Why was Steve still hanging out with him?

“Hah, hah. Real funny, Harrington. Seriously, Steve. Tommy’s not–”

“I’m kinda done talking about it, Robs, so–” Steve shoved himself off the ground, grabbing his shirt off the rocks, “–Munson, let’s go.”

“Yep, leaving,” Eddie didn’t want to get caught in the middle of it and wasted no time hopping into the driver’s seat, waving at Robin to hurry the hell up, “See you kids at the fair, right? Friday?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Jonathan agreed as he and Nancy tried to herd the kids into the station wagon.

“Hawkins’ Fourth of July is legendary,” Lucas chimed in.

Max rolled her eyes and pushed him into the car, “You’re sitting in the middle this time.”

“You too. Get in, Harrington,” Robin took a page from Max’s book, shoving Steve into the van and pulling the slider closed behind them.

“Alright, everyone say a prayer for Stevie!”

“Shut up, Munson.”

“No, no he needs it!”

“I don’t, I don’t need it,” Steve had shoved himself between the front seats to flip Eddie off, but as he hit the gas Steve fell back into the bench and they were off down the road.

“So, you can sit in the front this time. You know, if you wanna talk to Nance or whatever,” Jonathan said, thumbing over his shoulder.

Oh, fell out. If you wanted to talk to Nance? He gave you a small knowing smile and it made your cheeks flush pink as he walked back to pile in next to Dustin.

The radio crackled as you rolled down the road back home, all the windows open, summer air blowing your lake damp hair past your face. You could still feel Steve’s hold around your waist, that look he’d given you, I’m sorry.

“Listen, I know Steve can be hard,” Nance broke the silence, everyone else fast asleep. “We dated in high school and he just…” she drifted off, considering her words, “…he’s sweet, it’s just not easy for him at home.” She glanced over at you, giving you a half smile. She cared. It was more than obvious.

“I think it’s like that for a lot of people,” you said quietly, your own relationship with your parents less than easy.

“Well, just give him a chance. You know? He’s got a big heart, he just needs someone who isn’t going to break it.”

He just needs someone who isn’t gonna break it.

Would you break it? Wait, did you want it?

You rode in silence for the rest of the ride home, Journey’s After the Fall playing on the radio, your heart feeling a little less guarded, warmer, and wrapped in honey and burnt caramel.

Should've told you then I knew, should've told you right from the start, hey. But the words didn't come out right, so I'll tell you straight from my heart.

SOMETHING INFINITE SYNOPSIS: hawkins, indiana, 1987 – your mom is out of town for the summer on business and she sends you to live with your aunt joyce and her husband jim in hawkins while she’s gone. joyce works at the library and jim is the town sheriff – the kids, will, jonathan and el slowly warm up to you and it’s after you get in with them that you really start to feel at home, but there’s one person who just annoys you to no end. one person you’d love to just boot off a cliff – steve fucking harrington. ♥️ find the rest of the series and more here and find the series playlist on spotify here.

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem #steve stranger things #steve x you #steve harrington serires #steve harrington fic

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phoenixrising0308 · 2 years

Text

The Arrangement (Part 1): The day I married someone else (a)

Books: The Royal Romance Book 3

Rating: M (Mature content and implied sexual activities)

Pairing: Liam & Jessica (MC)

The Arrangement - This is the story of how Liam Rys and Jessica Garcia enter a Cordonian arrangement. This is a 4 chapter story arc and fits into a story in between called the Promise which is in the Agent Phoenix A/U .

Detailed disclaimer

Triggers: Physical aggression

Chapter Summary: The walls close in on Liam as he is forced into marriage for the sake of his country.

A/N: This is an original chapter that I wrote to the arrangement which was first released in 2019/2020 under a previous blog name.

Song Inspiration: The Arrangement Playlist

Word Count: 2,000 *As always forgive my typo’s and grammatical errors*

Reading time: 7 minutes.

Liam woke up to the natural light of the sun shining through his windows; his eyes were red and puffy. It was hard to admit, but the Crown Prince spent his night in his room crying over her, knowing that there was no turning back. It was over.

Although his brother was his closest ally, his resentment boiled over today. He wanted to follow his heart and abdicate, giving the throne to his long-time friend Olivia Nevrakis. However, Jessica refused his offer, foolishly thinking that they could undo the wrong done to her. Had it not been for Leo’s abdication, he would at least be free to walk away from royal life and be with her. But on this day, he would need to say goodbye to the life he dreamed of, a life where the other side of the bed was warm with her beside him.

He walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower as he washed his hair; He let himself melt under the comfort of the warm water. His vulnerability came to the surface, and he found himself crying, thinking of her once more. The last time he saw her was three days ago at an adoption ceremony. She wore a light blue dress. At the Beaumont's, as she signed her name on the document that would tie her to them forever, she gave them a warm smile, something that he missed seeing and something that made his heart skip a beat each time he saw it. He tried to talk to her, but she avoided being alone with him, and she sent his calls to voicemail. The last time he made love to her was in Yu garden in Shanghai on a boat. He closed his eyes for a second to imagine that moment; for all he knew, standing in the shower, it was their last time. He could smell her scent of vanilla and lavender perfume. He could envision the way her red lace dress clung to the curves of her body in the most exquisite way and, when nothing else was on her body, the way the pearl bracelet glimmered in the moonlight. He sighed deeply and could feel her body on top of his as it expertly moved against his own. Each moment of intimacy was a gift of themselves to each other, and each time they fell deeper in love. He was losing that gift today.

To be with her now would put her in a category she didn’t belong. Liam hated the word ‘mistress’ because she would never be that to him. She would forever be the woman he loved. She wouldn’t be Jessica Rys or the other woman in the shadows. He told her Madeleine was his wife on paper, but emotionally, his heart was hers. His body was hers, and as he promised her, they were two bodies that shared the same heart and soul. A Cordonian arrangement was all they had. If she agreed, it would be the only way to be together. They tried to be friends during the engagement tour but couldn’t. They just couldn’t stay away from each other. With each wall she built up, Liam managed to break through. She struggled with it the entire engagement tour. Every time she saw him and his fiancée together, the dances that should have been theirs, the kisses and hand-holding, the moments of tenderness which were staged, but nonetheless, she knew that if it were her, it would be genuine. She never gave him an answer to what she wanted to do. After that, she decided to stay in New York, but something pulled her back to the court. It was her responsibility to the Beaumont's, but Liam hoped part of it was him in his heart.

After he showered, he walked to his closet and looked at his custom-made wedding regalia tailored for him. When he still believed there was a possibility of being together, on the inside of the jacket where his heart would rest, the monogram L&J. No one would notice it. Still, it was an essential detail to him that when they were alone, and he took off his jacket, he would show her that his heart was hers and he promised it before God and his people.

He traced the letter J and said, “Jessica” in barely a whisper. He hated that today it was designed for his wedding to her and would now be used in a ceremony where he would be promised to another.

He sat on his bed, took a deep breath, and looked at the clock. Any minute now, preparations for the wedding would begin. The bell in Cordonia square would toll, the people would line the streets waving Cordonian flags, and they would throw flowers and the official wedding coin with his image and that of the new Queen to be on the streets; a Cordonian tradition of good fortune. He didn’t want any of it. He wanted a swift ceremony and an even swiffer divorce. He hoped that nothing that was happening today would taint what he wanted Jessica to have if he could free himself. The laws made it clear it wasn’t a question if he could divorce, but it would be a question of grounds and how long he would need to wait as the Royal Council would need to approve of the dissolution of his coerced marriage. He combed his hands through his hair as he heard the dreaded sound. The sound that would set the day’s events into motion was the galloping of horses from their carriage. A messenger was sent to collect his signature and bring the instrument of intent to marry and ascend the throne to the Archbishop.

The door flung open with no warning. Constantine entered and said, “My boy, it is a joyous day. You will take over my throne.” He was followed by staff, who drew his curtains.

Liam looked at the floor as he responded. “There is nothing joyful about this day,” Liam said in a whisper. His throat was hoarse with grief and the strain of sobbing all night. His eyes were downcast, refusing to look at the man that ruined his life.

“It is time to do what you must and sign the instrument that promises Countess Madeleine lands and other rights owed to her as your wife.”

Liam scowled, “I refused to call her my wife.”

Constantine tsked, “No matter what, you call her in private. By law, she is your wife from this day forward. You will come around, son.”

The messenger was escorted to the room by the Royal Guard, holding a wooden box. “Your Majesty and, “Your Royal Highness,” the man said, bowing, “The Duchess of Krona and The Duke of Karlington have sent over the signed instrument. I am here to collect your signature so upon marriage, the Archbishop may place his seal.”

Liam looked at the document and took his pen, and with his left hand, he signed away his life for his people. Something that he was born to do in an arranged marriage his whole life but something that changed for him since meeting Jessica. He knew love, her love, and his heart wanted that more than anything. Marrying her would mean a marriage filled with love and tenderness.

The messenger said, “Your Royal Highness, is there anything you want to send the future Queen?”

Liam looked at him, puzzled, and said, “Excuse me, I am uncertain of what you mean?”

The man answered, “A gift.”

Liam looked at him and said, “Should she ask to tell her that she is allowed to live here although she is unwanted and she is allowed to be addressed as Queen. Although, she is undeserving of the title. Remind her that it will all be short-lived, and she is just a guest.”

Constantine sucked his teeth and said, “Please direct the messenger to Queen Regina’s quarters; she will provide you with a gift for the Bride, her niece, from her personal jewelry collection. Surely the Bride will be moved by such a gift from a Queen to a future Queen.”

Liam retorted and said, “Very well. I can’t stop you from giving her something. But I have given the messenger a directive, and he is to deliver that message. Should he ease up on the language, fine, but the message, whether in English, French, Italian, or whatever language the Countess knows, is the same at the core I despise her.” He turned to the messenger and said, “You are excused.”

With that, the messenger exited Liam’s quarters and was directed to Regina’s room to collect a hastily given bridal gift.

Liam allowed the royal servants to do whatever they wanted. Brush his hair, help him dress, put on Cologne. It all felt like he was no more than a rag doll being tossed around and dolled up while he just stared off into nothing.

Constantine watched the entire time, not caring about frivolous things such as privacy or respect for his youngest son.

“You look distasteful and weak with those red eyes. This will be broadcasted for the entire Nation to see. Something must be done to cover it.”

Liam snapped out of his trance, “Weak?” He huffed with a humorless chuckle. “It’s a strength and honor to my country to marry a woman who I can’t tolerate more than what social decorum dictates.”

Soon after came Regina and Leo after Liam was dressed. Leo smiled sadly at his younger brother.

“You look handsome as ever, Liam. I’m so proud of you.” Regina smiled softly.

Constantine said, “Proud? The boy looks like a sobbing child on a day when our reputation is on the line. The least he could do is be a man and handle his duty with pride.”

Liam snapped his head in his Father’s direction. All composure went out the window at the statement.

Leo closed his eyes and mumbled under his breath. “You couldn’t have stayed silent, could you?”

“A child, Father? You think I should be more stoic or manly on this day?” Liam released a bitter chuckle before kicking over a table.

“I apologize, Father! So sorry that my life has been ruined and my heart is being ripped into a million pieces, but I can’t act like I’m thrilled!! How dishonorable of me!”

Constantine huffed, “Well, you should know I sent Lady Jessica a letter by footman today about the doctrine Sex primis noctibus. I felt it necessary to remind her of her place should she become the other half of the Cordonian Arrangement.”

Liam glared at his Father and said, “You did what?!”

“You heard me. I reminded her of where you would be the first six nights of your marriage, unable to communicate with the outside world and bedding the Queen as tradition dictates.”

“I did not invoke that Cordonian clause! It is my right to invoke it, and I will not be trapped in this palace with Madeleine in close quarters to produce an heir!”

“That’s true, you didn’t invoke it, but I, as the King, have. It’s an order, so I’m sure she is devastated. Liam, do not forget the order of things. You convinced her to come here. Now she must deal with her new found status.”

Filled with anger at what his Father had done to further torment Jessica, he picked up a chair and threw it across the room.

Regina gasped, and Leo simply watched as Liam marched towards his Father, now towering over the older man.

Constantine glared, “What are you going to do, Liam, assault me? You had to taint today by stubbornly always keeping that woman in your thoughts.”

Liam yelled in his face. “Of course I fucking do! Because that woman is the only woman for me! Today was supposed to be her day, and you took that away from us both!!”

“I took nothing away.”

I’m being forced into a marriage of hate and lies, and you don’t even care!” Liam’s nostrils flared as he yelled, “You betrayed me, Father. You used me! You don’t give a damn about anyone but yourself!”

“Boy, calm yourself.”

Liam saw red at the order and, without thinking, shoved Constantine against a nearby wall. Regina clutched her mouth, and Leo calmly walked over as Liam screamed in his Father’s face. “I will not!! When do I get a say-so? When do I get to choose? I’ve been ripped back and forth, advised, and taken care of all my life. I am a grown man and can’t choose who I marry!”

Liam was inches from his Father’s face, hands on his collar as Constantine glared and dug his fingers into his son’s wrist.

“Come on, Li. The old man isn’t worth it.” Leo mumbled low while glaring at Constantine and forcibly dragged Liam off of him.

Constantine was red-faced as he got back up into Liam’s space as Leo held him back. “You ungrateful foul-mouthed BRAT! You’re being given a crown, all the power you could ask for, and reputation, and all you care about is not marrying some ordinary woman. I should have-”

Constantine stopped mid-sentence, coughing violently and hunching over. Regina rushed to him, placing a hand on his back.

“Liam, please! Can’t you see that your Father is ill?”

Liam relinquished himself of Leo’s grasp and threw a nearby vase at the wall. “OUT!! I want everyone out but my brother!”

My list is spilt between two blogs so if you if you would like to stay on the list please let me know and if you would like off the list please DM privately thank you for being on this writing journey with me. -J

#play choices #choices trr #choices fanfiction #Liam x Jessica #king liam #liam x mc #choices #the royal romance #mc x liam #choices app #Liam Rys #agent phoenix

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