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daphwritesworld · 18 days ago

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Chapter 2— Into You.

a/n: hiii guys here is the second chapter of the Be My baby series!! Like before I really just want to get this out, so sorry for any spelling/grammar errors. I’ll go back and fix them all later when i’m less tired. But I think I’ll start a tag list for this series if you guys want it. Just comment below on this post if you’d like to be added so you’ll be instantly notified of chapter updates. Thank you for all the support & happy reading < 3 !!

content: Top!Leah, Bottom!Reader, talks of previous sexual encounters, brewing sexual tension, jealous!Leah, fingering (R receiving), squirting, panty sniffing, strap on fucking ( R receiving), and masturbation.

warnings: allusions to heavy dom/sub relationship, talks of injury, Leah busting her ass at practice…again, car sex, flirty!Leah deserves a warning of its own so here you go, some angst, semi-public sex, and choking

synopsis: It's your second day working at Arsenal, and you are struggling with keeping things strictly professional with Leah. Meanwhile, you have some uneasy feelings arise as problems start happening with a fellow medical staffer.

word count: 6.3k

Series Masterlist: here

!! 18+ MINORS DNI !!

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“F-Fuck Leah!” There’s sweat running down your face as it stings your eyes, adding to the tears that are already staining your cheeks. You try to rub your face on the sheets to help, but it just makes her keep you there. A strong hand comes to rest on the back of your head as she pushes your face further into the mattress, leaning over your trembling body as she lets the strap attached to her waist sink even deeper inside of you. Her chest presses against your back as she starts speaking into your ear, “Arch this fucking back for me, again– deeper!” A loud slap rings out across the room followed by an even louder cry from you. “I know you can do better than that. You wanna cum? Then deeper,” her other hand comes to push at your back as you sink closer to the bed. She watches at first, the way your pussy presents itself fully to her. She lets a groan slip from her lips at the way it grips her cock so hard that it partially slides out, giving you some breathing room for a few seconds. She lets you have your breather, but after that she can’t help the way she starts climbing over top of you. Leah plants her feet into the mattress as she bends her body down, her hands gripping the sheets beside your head. When she slides the few inches that slipped out back in– you can’t help the pornographic moan that leaves your mouth. You’ve never felt so full in your life, the new angle giving her access to parts of your pussy that have never been touched before. She’s giving you amounts of pleasure you never knew were possible. Her hips pick up a rougher pace after she lets you adjust, a burning in your tummy forming faster and hotter than you’ve ever experienced. Her lips skim across your back as her lips find your ear, “Cum for me Y/N. I know you want to,” one of her hands reaches around to find your clit. “So be a good girl for me and cum on this co–”

Your alarm clock awakes and blasts through the room, sending you flying as you jump up from the shock. An arm scrambles to smack at the annoying device to turn it off. You sit in the newfound silence for a few moments, letting your heartbeat return to a normal rhythm as you rub the sleep from your eyes. God, you’re so tired from last night. One orgasm turned into two…and then you just couldn’t stop thinking about her. The blonde English defender consuming your every waking thought…and apparently your nightly ones, too. You rub your thighs together as you feel the uncomfortable wetness collected between them. You wonder back to your dream…Well, your memory really. It was of the last night you two spent together. Her fucking you on the bed as the patio doors were left swung open, the sunsetting across the ocean of the beach; a beautiful backdrop to the way you handled each other’s body. A gorgeous end to a magical fairytale…because that’s what Leah is: a fantasy.

You keep reminding yourself that as you get up to start your morning. You enter the bathroom and make your way to the mirror above the sink. You squint your eyes at your reflection and bring a finger up to point at it, "You will keep things strictly professional, Y/N! Keep your pussy in your pants…you slut!" You shake your head at that, rubbing your face as you let a loud groan out. "My god I've gone mad!"

The shower heats up pretty quick, so you start stripping your pajamas off. You don't have a laundry basket yet, so you decide the floor will have to do for now. You cringe at the feeling of peeling off your wet panties, sighing as you look at the ruined pair before slinging them into your pile. The water washes away your worries for a minute, letting your muscles relax as you stretch a little in the comforting space. Then like black magic, she pops up again— front and center in your mind. You try to ignore the tingling between your legs as you reach for your shampoo. You try and ignore it your whole shower routine, but you can't put it off when you're washing your body. The loofa running across your skin as images of Leah go by in your mind is enough to drive the sanest person to their breaking point…so is it really your fault when you subconsciously start rubbing your thighs together? That can be debated. But it's definitely your fault when you slip your free hand down to fuck yourself to those thoughts of her. God dammit, you really have no self control when it comes to her. Note to self: Bitch, stand up!

You finish up your shower before you brush your teeth and throw on outfit. You're getting there early today to meet with the rest of the medical staff. You'll be meeting the head Doctor, head strength & conditioning coach, head of sports of medicine & science, the sports psychologist, the other AT, and the one you're most scared to meet…the old Lead AT whose job you now have. You didn't know when you took the offer that you'd essentially be stealing someone else's job— another woman's at that. You meant to talk to Rose about it yesterday, but that plan got derailed in more ways than one. First you got lost, then your tour went on longer than maybe necessary (but Alessia is just very friendly and charming, okay! Time slipped from you both), and then well, Leah happened...again.

As you make your way to the meeting room, you feel like you're going to throw up the coffee you chugged on the way in. Your stomach is turning over everything running through your mind: will they like you, Leah, will they respect you after leaving your old team in the middle of a season, will you fit in, Leah, will Rose hate you, because you understand why she would, Leah, will the other AT under you hate you for unknowingly demoting her friend/colleague, Leah, and oh god will they all hate you for that? You think you're going to pass out as you come face to face with the door of your destination.

You can hear the rustling of conversation inside and it makes you want to run— an all too familiar feeling running through your veins. You have to take a deep breath and remind yourself that this isn't there. Get a fucking grip girl, you got this. So you shake out your arms, a way to "shake out the nerves" as your mentor taught you. As you go in, your nerves instantly start declining as you see the smiles on almost everyone's face as you enter. Keyword: almost. You know that must be her..Rose. You have so much you want to say to her, but you know you can't in here. Not with everyone's eyes on you two— she deserves a hell of a lot more respect than that.

So for now you do your introductions. You learn all their names, and in the small first impressions you know things will be fine. You've already clocked who you think you'll grow close with. You really like Matt and Laura, the sports psychologist and the other AT. You don't get a chance to even meet eyes with Rose, as it seems she's avoiding you like the plague…But of course you understand why. You just wish she'd at least be social with her familiar coworkers instead of sinking into herself. Like you did. Laura must notice your saddneded look placed towards the other woman, because she gives you a reassuring smile. "She'll come around, just give her a little time."

"I hope you all know I had no clue they'd give me her position when I accepted the offer. I'd never want to steal someone's job— especially with how hard we have to work to earn them," your eyes still stay on the unsmiling women across the room. She's staring down at her phone, elbow sitting on the table as her head rests on her fist.

"We all had a clue. You looked miserable every time the camera panned to you. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to tell that you're running from something that happened there…I don't know how things were at your last club, but I know things can be different here," she's giving you such a genuine smile you can't help the tears the well up in your eyes. She continues upon seeing them, "And you don't have to talk about it until you're ready, or ever if you don't want to."

You smile hoping to reassure her that they are happy tears. "How'd you know I looked so miserable? Did you guys watch my old matches just to see the new addition's skills?" You can't help the laugh that comes out with it.

She mirrors your soft chuckles, "Uh yeah we did— sorry! That's probably a little creepy."

"No, no, it's funny really. But, uhm, yeah..I was really unhappy there. I tried to stick it out till the end of the season, but I..I just couldn't…" You trail off after that, an uneasy nervousness taking over your body as you think back to your time at Barcelona.

Laura's about to say something else when Rose finally speaks up for the first time, "I hate to break up this party, but the girls are about to start training." She says it so monotone, a flat expression matching it on her face. You snap back to reality at that— pushing the past down your throat once again. You know pretending like it never happened is destructive, but you don't care. You have a job to do here, and you can't let your emotions get in the way of that…in more ways than one. You're quickly reminded of that as you exit the room only to be met with the sound of Leah's voice.

Dear lord— you really are going mad.

"Nice to see you found your way here alright today!" Okay now that definitely wasn't in your head. You look down the hall to your left, Alessia walking towards you as she leaves behind her teammates. They're all walking out to the field, and behind Alessia your eyes fixate on the lines leader. She's already looking at you, eyes boring into yours as she keeps walking ahead towards the exit doors.

"Eyes forward Williamson! Or you might not get back up this time," an Irish accent rings out from the group of athletes. A rupture of laughter echoes throughout the sickly white walls. It carries down to Alessia as she mimics the sounds of the girls, turning around to send a reply back, "At this rate she'll have a concussion by the end of the week. I'd put $20 on it," and a whole new roar of commotion starts then. Some girls feeling bad and saying to leave her alone, some pushing at their Captain as they can't control their laughter, and the rest of them making a group chat to solidify their bets.

You almost feel bad…almost, but seeing that red tint cover her cheeks as she swats their teasing hands away is too sweet of a sight. "I'll remember that when you're running extra laps today, McCabe!" She looks back up at you as she says it, licking her lips before her head snaps back forwards. She's gone after that, disappearing out onto the pitch as the rest of the bickering footballers follow her.

Alessia reaches you just as you snap out of your Leah induced trance, a smile reaching your face as she gives you a hug. "I left early today just incase, ended up getting a coffee from the place down the street."

"Ohh smart girl. You must be a fast learner," you two start walking as Rose and Laura go past you. A small wave coming from Laura as she turns her heard to mouth to you, "See you out there, rookie!" You send a wave back, ready to start your first full day.

Yesterday was a damn whirlwind, but today is going to be different. You and Alessia keep chatting as you quickly catch up with everyone else, falling into place as you two separate into your respective spots. You keep your eyes trained on the girls, all except one.

You are actively trying to avoid her gaze, but that doesn't stop you from feeling it burning holes into you. She's not as distracted as yesterday, or at least not as outwardly showing it. Leah's only staring holes through you when she isn't moving this time, even if it's for just a second, her head snaps in your direction. She's getting back in the zone though, comfortable with herself again.

She woke up before the sun even thought of rising to go get the dreaded CT scan you had ordered yesterday. She turned it into her coach as soon as she came out onto the field and he cleared her to play. But she can't stop thinking of you, your body, your voice, and all the possibilities of what you two could be if given the chance. She's determined to have you, to make you hers. And when Leah sets her mind to something…lord help anyone or anything that gets in her way. She's a force to be reckoned with, a fiercely confident and stubborn woman with a drive to get exactly what she wants.

She gets wrapped up as she doesn't have a moment of rest for a while, letting herself fall back into the passion of the game. Football is in her blood and keeps her heart pumping. She's known since the first time she kicked a ball that this is what she's meant to be doing. Even before it was attainable: she has always been destined for greatness. The defender doesn't break from her focus, not until she hears your unmistakable laugh from the sidelines. She looks up and scoffs under her breath at the sight before her.

Alessia had walked up to you after being pulled away to speak with her coach. She asked if you'd check her ankle, claiming that the pain was completely gone and so was the swelling. So you agreed to check her out, squatting down to examine her ankle. She'd made a dumb dad joke, unknowingly to her that those are your favorites. So here you are now, hand resting on Alessia's upper leg as you laugh out at the ridiculous 'so and so walked into a pub' joke setup.

Leah's eyes stay stuck on you now, anger filling her body as she watches you two interact. You won't even look in her direction anymore, but you'll feel up on her teammate you met one day ago? Fine. She can get hurt and gain your attention, too. The anger overrules the logic in her brain and before she knows it she's faking a fall, using all her body weight to drop and hit the ground. She lets out a groan as she bounces a little, not realizing how fast she was running when she made the split second decision. You don't notice straight away, only about a 5 second delay before a harsh voice from behind you cuts in, "Time to shine, La Reina!"

You feel your blood run cold at the nickname given to your former club member being directly used against you. You blink back the tears you feel welling up, running out onto the field as work mode kicks in. You don't even notice it's Leah until you're hovering over her on the field. You come down to your knees so you're at her level. "What happened this time?"

She sighs before sitting up, arms reaching out behind her to keep her propped up. A furrow between her brows settles in before the red on her cheeks starts to, "Y-You were flirting with Russo that's what bloody happened," you notice the roll of her eyes as she says it.

You can't help the small giggle that comes out of you, hands going to check her legs and ankles as you relish in her pouting. "Well maybe if you weren't so focused on glaring daggers into me you wouldn't have noticed."

"So you were flirting with her? You're not even going to deny it? Oh, you are someth-"

"Oh my god, no I wasn't' flirting with Alessia! She's just the only person to greet me so far without a tongue down the throat," you interrupt her as you realize how upset she actually is. "Plus, I wouldn't do that to you, Le. Never," you have to add in the last part. Too scared she'll cause a scene with her dramatic ass if you left it on a teasing note. You're sure she's had enough of that already today. "Now please— just tell me if you're hurt anywhere."

She goes even redder at that, turning into a mess of stutters as she directs her eyes anywhere but at you. 'U-Uh no. I-I'm fine, darling. No need t-to worry."

"But can you look me in the eyes and tell me that," you tease her. A smile pulling at the corner of your lips as you see her reaction.

"Oh fuck off would you!" She gives you that classic Williamson snarl. Face scrunched up into the meanest frown as her eyes find yours again.

"Mhm. Just make sure you give me a ride home tonight, and maybe I won't bench you."

"That seems like an abuse of power, babe." She laughs it out, falling back into her cocky attitude. "If you want me that bad, you just need to ask. No need to black mail me, darling."

The tables turn as you quickly find yourself as the one shyly blushing out a reply. "I didn't mean it like that you perv! God, you are infuriating you know that?"

"So I've been told," she smirks at you.

You rise to your feet before reaching a hand out to help her up. She finds her footing instantly compared to yesterday, jogging a circle around you as her ponytail swings behind her. "So am I clear, Doc? You giving me a clean bill of health?"

You roll your eyes this time, a bright smile breaking out across your lips as you start walking back to the sidelines of the pitch. "Yes, Leah. Now stop staring at me like a creep and go practice, Captain." You start jogging after the last part, quickly trying to clear the field and resolve practice. You don't notice the way her teammates whisper at the interaction between you two, or the way Rose shakes her head at it with a scrawl on her face. All you know is that Leah could flirt with you another time, right now work needs to come first.

You stop in front of the coach, discussing how you think Alessia is ready to come back and that Leah's good to go after her tumble. When you get the go ahead you get back in line with the other AT's, standing next to Laura as a conversation about restocking the med room supplies takes over comfortably. The rest of practice goes by smoothly, aside from the occasional glare from Rose. You try to keep any eye on where she goes after practice, wanting to sneak a moment alone with her to finally talk about everything. You lose her as she disappears into the locker room, not wanting to risk seeing a half naked Leah in such a populated area at the moment. So with a sigh you retreat to pack up your own things for the night, taking a clipboard and writing down a list of items you're low on as you do.

You hear the door open as you finish checking the last cabinet in the room, not looking up before speaking. "Oh Laura, do you know where we put in our order forms? I couldn't find any so I just started writing my own list."

"That's a little out of my job description, love." You turn around at that, coming face to face alone with Leah once again. You can feel your heart speeding up at the sight of her— god dammit she has you hooked. You set the clipboard down as you collect your bags from the floor, taking the time to regain your breath before walking out of the room with her. "Let me carry your bags, they look heavy."

"No, I can carry them on my own just fine, thank you. I have my whole career and I'd like to keep it that way."

"Don't be stubborn and just let me help you!"

"No! It's not like you're my girlfriend, you don't have a reason to carry them."

"Yeah, but I could be."

"W-What? Leah what are you even talking about—"

She stops you two in the dark empty hallway, turning you to face her as she speaks. "I could be your girlfriend," she smirks down at you as she leans in closer. You start backing up until you hit the wall, her body caging you as she finishes her statement. "And you could be mine."

She's so close you swear you can feel her heartbeat against your chest, breath dusting over your cheeks as she stares down at your lips. You're speechless and filled with a mix of emotions at her words, but still you lean up to kiss her. You pull away before she can deepen it though, "We can't, Le."

"Why not?"

"Because we just can't."

"Give me one good reason why we can't go out on a date, Y/N." Her hands cup your cheeks as she speaks, pulling you even closer as her lips tickle against yours.

"Because I don't date my coworkers. It's a rule I have set for myself."

"Well, some rules are made to be broken," and with that you let her capture your mouth with hers. You two get lost in the feeling of sparks flying off your lips, making out up against the wall like a couple of horny teenagers. She kisses you until your lips are raw, stinging, and swollen.

Then she's leading you out, hand in hand to her car. She opens the door for you, stealing a peck from your lips before she shuts it back. Her hand finds your thigh as she squeezes it a bit, sending a hushed whine to fall out into the air of her Audi A5. She licks her lips at the sound, sliding her hand up until she's rubbing you through your jean shorts. "You really think a few buttons is gonna stop me from getting to your pussy, (Y/N)?" She chuckles out as you look at her with wide eyes, freezing as you realize she caught onto the small detail you put into not ending up like this. Of course, she notices.

"Shut up, Le! Just do something already," there's a frustrated lilt to your voice, hips pushing down into the pressure of her hand through the denim. She pulls her touch away at that, her hand coming up to your face as she grips your jaw to face her. "Last time I checked, I don't give brats what they want. Try again like a good girl, and maybe I'll let you cum tonight."

You huff out at that, but you hold back on the eye roll that almost comes out of you. You know Leah well enough to know she's deadly serious, if you don't repeat your request in manner fitting to her standards? She'll drive you home and not touch you properly the whole way, teasing touches that never give you quite enough to get any real relief. It's just enough to have you dripping and desperate for her, begging when you both know it's far too late for her to give in. If Leah's one thing then it's being as stubborn as a brick wall. She will not break. No matter what you say, what you do, or how much you cry— she's not budging in her decisions. So you best listen the first time she allows you to correct yourself. With that knowledge in mind, you relax your face before giving into the English woman.

"Please make me feel good, Le." She laughs at your attempt. "I know you can do better than that," her grip gets tighter as her other hand starts unbuttoning your shorts. "And you know you have to tell me what you want, Y/N."

"Want your fingers, Le! Want you to fuck me till I'm making a mess on your expensive leather seats— please!" You whining louder now, growing confidence in the power play you two slip back into so easily. It's comforting and familiar in a new world of scary and unknown, and maybe that's why you keep finding yourself giving into her so easily…Or maybe it's because she knows your body better than anyone else— including yourself.

She smirks this time, slipping her hand down from your jaw onto your neck as her other one slides into your opened shorts. Your hands instinctually go to wrap around her wrist, nails digging into her flesh as she starts rubbing circles onto your panty covered clit. Your reaction is instant as you let small hums of pleasure escape you, grinding into the pressure once more now that it's more direct. Your gaze stays on hers as it intensifies, keeping you enchanted with the beauty of her crystal blue eyes. She tugs on your neck, bringing you into a heated kiss before she's slipping two of her fingers inside you. You let a moan out into her mouth and Leah takes the advantage to slide her tongue into yours. Her thumb rests on your clit as she lets you take a second, rubbing little shapes into the bundle of nerves. She starts moving her fingers as her tongue clashes with yours, a fight for dominance she quickly wins. It's hard to stand your ground when you've got long, thick fingers filling you up, okay? You try!

She doesn't pull away. Not until you can't breathe and you're both gasping for air as your chests heave up and down. Her lips move down to find your neck, mouth going to work as she speeds her thrusts up. You don't even think to tell her to stop. Consequences so far from your mind at the moment that you'd probably let her fuck you on the hood. You just relish in the way she curls her fingers inside your pussy, sending bolts of electricity through your body as your high approaches in no time. You look down between your thighs and you almost moan out loud at the sight of Leah's muscular arm flexing with every move she makes. You can't help the way you start riding her fingers at that point, breathy whines of her name leaving your lips like a prayer. "Le-Leah! Oh fuck, baby— please lemme cum, Le!"

"Already? I don't think so, darling. Hold it for me," she's laughing at you, vibrations moving through your neck as she keeps her lips pressed against your skin there. And dear god you want to cry when she says that. Sure you can make yourself cum— but not like she can. Oh no. You both know that's true, that's why you're bouncing on her fingers in the parking lot of your new employment. No one else would ever have you acting like this— they never have. Only Leah has ever had this kind of magnetic pull to her that you can't seem to resist. It's impractical and messy…but you know you can't quit her. Even if you can't admit it to yourself yet, she's got you wrapped up so tight around her finger that it's a little concerning…she's got you wrapped tight around two of her fingers right now if you wanna be specific, but that's not the point.

She groans out as she pulls back to watch you, eyes fixated on the way your breasts bounce along with the thrusts. You move one of your hands to wrap around her forearm between your thighs, and feeling the muscles move under your touch only sends you closer to the edge. Your hips start to stutter as your breathing picks up, you go to open your mouth and beg her a second time, but she cuts you off. "Go ahead, love. Cum for me," The next words come out in a growl as she puts more pressure on thumb attached to your clit, "Make a mess on my fucking seat so I can make you lick it clean afterwards."

Your eyes roll back at the sequences of actions, thighs closing around her arm as she keeps fucking you through your high. "Just like that, baby." She keeps going after your done though, a sensitive ache taking over your pussy from her treatment. "T-Too much, Le!" She darkly chuckles at that, a harsh tone coming off her next words.

"You can take fucking more," she switches to a softer one as she continues, "Just one more, darling. I know you've got it in you."

She pulls her fingers out of your cunt slowly, using her two soaked fingers to rub your clit now. She keeps going even after your thighs start shaking, her stamina much higher from her pro athlete training. She only said one more, but by the look of determination across her face…you know she's not done with you yet. Your poor clit hasn't had a single break since she first touched it god knows how long ago. It creates a knot in your stomach to form that you haven't felt since you were last at her mercy. Your voice goes up a few octaves and your eyes start to cross as your hands claw at any piece of her you can reach. "Leah!" You don't even get enough time to ask for permission before the liquid gushes out of your cunt and it seeps through your denim shorts to collects on her seat. You don't even get a second to breathe, not when her hand finds place in your hair and starts yanking you into the floorboard. "Now clean it up like a good girl, darling. Show me how much you appreciate what I've given you."

Your cheeks flush a deep shade of red as lean your head down towards her passenger seat. There isn't a shit ton of your squirt there, but enough for you to get shy about it. The leather feels weird against your tongue, but you make quick work of collecting the arousal onto it. You let your eyes drift up to her as you slurp up the last drop, sticking your tongue out to show her before you finish the job with a lick to your lips. She can't help the moan that leaves her this time, pulling your body back up into the seat as you start kissing again. As soon as she pulls away she's shoving her fingers into your mouth as your tongue goes to suck them clean. Your eyes still stay on hers as you do, wrapping both your hands around her wrists as you start bopping your head onto them. Leah thinks she's gonna cum in her fucking sweat pants at this point, her pussy throbbing harder than it has this whole time. She can’t wait to have you choking on her strap again…all in due time tho.

She breaks after you pull them of out of your mouth, sending a kiss to the tips of her fingers before you return her hand to her. She is fucking short circuiting right now, her lips drop open as she stares at you in awe. It makes you smile, a newfound confidence taking over as you lean across the center console and press a quick kiss to her lips. You think you pulled away in time but she catches you just as fast as you left, pulling you in close as you start your third make out session of the day..and your fifth since yesterday— but like who is counting? You get so lost in kissing her that you only pull away after you catch a glimpse of the time shining on her dash. You pull back from her warm embrace, a surprised gasp leaving you as you go to put your seatbelt on. "Noooo, come back," she pulls at your neck, trying to get your mouth back onto hers. The next words you get out are rushed.

"Le, we really can't. It's 11:30 already and— shit! I have to walk into my building looking like I pissed myself. This is just fucking great," you throw your head back against the seat in frustration. See this is what happens when you have no self control like the pussy whipped slut that you are.

"Hey, hey, hey calm down motor mouth! I missed some of that, but I think I got the gists of it. I have extra sweats in my bag you can borrow. Just leave your ruined panties and shorts in here, and I'll wash them with my practice laundry. I am sorry I kept you out so late, though…but I promise I'll make up for it tomorrow," She rubs your jaw with her thumb as she says it. A soft smile overtaking her features as she soothes you back to calmness with the action.

"Thank you, Le. You really don't have to do all of that though. The sweatpants are enough," you can't mistake the way your heart flutters at even the offer of the gesture. It feels too intimate for the reality of your situation, but you don't push it too hard. "Yes, Y/N, I know that, but I want to. So just let me help you. Please?" There's something different about the way she says it. Like she knows that you always rely on only yourself and never take help from others without a fight. It's a survival technique you picked up a long time ago, but only Leah has ever noticed it..or at least cared enough to call it out.

So with a sigh you take a deep breath before nodding your head, rolling your eyes as you can't hide the grin spreading out on your lips. "Okay, okay! You win. You can keep my cum soaked panties like the pervert you truly are, Williamson."

She pushes at your shoulder at the remark, "Oi! Better watch your mouth or I'll stuff 'em in there till I drop you off!"

She hops out to run to her trunk, grabbing the extra pair of lounging pants as she makes her way back to hand them to you. You change in the front seat and it's…very fucking difficult to say the least. But a few shared laughs with Leah and a couple awkward positions is all it takes for you to be redressed, sitting back in your seat as you settle down with a giggle. You go to put on your seatbelt to match her, but she takes it from you, her hands lightly sliding into yours before she buckles it for you. She starts the Audi and puts it into drive as she goes to leave the parking lot. She doesn't need your address this go round, one time was enough for Leah to memorize the drive. Her hand finds your thigh for once more tonight, resting it there as you converse about what coffee shops are the best around. You end up agreeing to let her show you around the town on your next day off together, but repeatedly insisting that it is NOT a date.

You're in front of your door before you know it, Leah walking you up for the second night in a row now. You two share one last passionate kiss before you start pushing her away. "Okay, now you really do have to go. It's already midnight, Le. I'll see you in the morning, Captain Williams."

"Yes, you will, and you better not ignore me this time either!" She says it with that classic Leah frown.

"No promises," you fail at hiding your laugh as you say it.

She pulls you back in to steal one more kiss, sucking the breath from your lungs as she does. It's a kiss like the one she gave you yesterday at your door, and it completely steals away your ability to breathe. She's making you fall deeper and deeper into this game you two have going on. You know you'll wake up tomorrow and say to yourself that you can't let this continue on…right before going to work and throwing that pep talk right out of the window as soon as you see or hear her. She's not just some one night stand you had and you both know it, but when will you stop lying to yourself about? Only god knows.

"You just be ready for our date on Thursday. I'm already planning the day in my head, and it's going to be perfect!"

"Le, I told you It's not a date!"

"We'll see about that, darling."

And with that…she's off. Leaving you at your door clad in her pants as you watch her figure disappear into the elevator once more. You try not to think about how this is easily turning into routine between you two. The domestic act of her paying to park just to walk you up to your room doesn't slip by you either. Maybe it really isn't like Barca here, and maybe things can truly be different in so so many more ways than one. You sleep in Leah's sweats tonight, wrapped up in her scent as it drifts you off to sleep.

But Leah herself? Oh, she definitely sniffs your dirty panties as she makes herself cum. Yeah, she is a pervert, as you stated earlier...but only for you. Only you could get her so wound up and resorting to such a desperate act of degeneracy. She checks the time when she finally finishes: 1:23am it reads back to her. She groans out a sleepy sound of discomfort as she tosses your dirty underwear into her laundry basket, turning off her bedside lamp as the darkness of night consumes her. Her mind isn't so lucky, because now she's thinking of all the places she going to take you on your date. Yes date— you can deny it all you want, but like we've discussed: Leah Williamson always gets what she wants when she's determined…and she's never been this determined about anything before. So she decides right then and there— in the dead of night and the pitch black atmosphere, that by the end of the season…you will fully be hers. Not some secret hookup or whatever the fuck you two are now. No, Leah’s mind is set in making you her pretty girl who stands on the sidelines with her cute little first aid bag, ready to go. Hell, if she’s real lucky you’ll be her WAG on the on med staff, a shiny ring sitting on your finger as her physical claim of you. She finally starts to fall asleep to those thoughts, a smile gracing her lips as she prays that she sees your beautiful face in her dreams tonight.

#l.williamson 6 #woso fanfics #woso smut #woso x reader #woso writers #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson x y/n #leah williamson smut #leah williamson fanfic #woso x y/n #BMB.daph #woso imagine #woso blurbs #leah williamson x you #wlw smut #wlw x reader

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nolita-fairytale · 4 months ago

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something will happen | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter one

summary: you and luca embark on another a big new adventure together: one of second dreams and second chances. the long-awaited sequel to 'burn your life down.' titled inspired by something will happen - berlioz.

warnings: fluff, light angst, grief, death, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, off-canon connection to the storyline of the bear.

word count: 1.9k

a/n: it's really happening! i can't promise i'll be updating frequently, but season 3 got me inspired and i've really missed this world. this feels more like an intro than a chapter but here we are anyway. all italicized scenes are a part of the same conversation. i just wanted to play with something new so i hope it makes sense. lmk if you'd like to be tagged.

masterlist | chapter two

Late Spring

“Well? What do you think?” Luca asks you, the anticipation in the silence between the two of you palpable.

“I don’t know!” you practically exclaim, all giddy at the mere idea of it. You chew on your lower lip as you wait for him to say something next.

“I’m just saying. It’s not a half-bad idea and ehm… well, I’ve been thinking about it. A lot, actually,” he reasons with a shrug. He sends a loving glance your way because you look so damn cute wrapped in your twin-sized duvet that makes up one half of the bed you share.

“For how long?” you ask, cautiously.

“Dunno,” Luca shrugs. “Ever since Marcus mentioned it, I suppose.”

He’s almost too casual about this—as if he hasn’t been stuck on the idea for the last month or so since his friend had returned to the States.

This is most certainly not a lazy Saturday morning with breakfast in bed kind of conversation.

This is a paperwork and really nice pens kind of conversation

A big step.

Huge, even.

You’ve already agreed to live with the man.

And now this?

“Luca…” you struggle to get out on an exhale. “I just. It’s not that I don’t want to. I just-.” You pause, collecting your thoughts as you shake off all your nerves before choosing to pivot.

“What if we just-.” you begin again, taking a breath as you brace yourself to jump over this specific cliff. “Total fantasy. No limitations, no logistics, then sure. Okay. We could talk about it.”

“Alright,” Luca accepts with a nod, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes like he knows he’s got you right where he wants you. He sits up straight, pushing himself off of where he leans against the headboard, shifting so that he’s closer to you. The smile that spreads across his lips begins to grow as repeats your words back to you. “Then, my love, total fantasy. No limitations. No logistics. What’s the dream?”

—---------------------------------------

Summer

The dream was only supposed to be this—one where you’d begin living with your very sexy and very sweet pastry chef of a boyfriend—and yet, months later, as you move your things into Luca’s Vesterbro flat, your thoughts are consumed by ‘what ifs.’

What if you did it?

What if you opened the restaurant of your shared dreams?

What if your dreams came true with the love of your life by your side?

Opening Kokuore had been different. It was your first step towards your next chapter, one where you had moved to Copenhagen in search of a new beginning. But this would be… a proclamation: that you were here to stay, that you and Luca could be something permanent, that you could be more than just romantic partners.

Proof of a life well-lived and a life well-loved.

Kokuore had been your dream, your first, your baby. Sure, there’d been talk of expansion—maybe a bigger space, or something along the lines of that—but you hadn’t thought too deeply about a second.

You hadn’t thought about what would come next.

And then he did.

Luca.

“Need any help, love?” Luca offers, watching you scoop two stacked boxes up into your arms, ready to be hauled into the bedroom.

“Nope!” you heave with a sigh. “Not with these. But if you could grab the other three I’ll meet you in the closet, babe.”

He smirks, calling after you with a:

“And what do you suppose we should do there?”

You chuckle in response, your voice sounding further away as you shout back, “Let’s just unpack a few of my clothes, love, before we start taking them off.”

—---------------------------------------

“Then, my love, total fantasy. No limitations. No logistics. What’s the dream?”

You sigh, like you too haven’t been thinking about it since Marcus brought it up in the first place.

“Okay, I’m not ready yet,” you preface, cautiously. “But. If we were, hypothetically speaking, talking about opening a restaurant together… I kinda love the idea of a brunch spot.” “Like Marcus said.” “Exactly.”

“Slash bakery.” “Right.”

“Hypothetically speaking.” “Of course.”

For a moment, your mind gets away from you, running wild with the fantasy that’s beginning to unfold before your eyes.

“I think I really like the idea of it being a bakery during the weekdays when we’re open,” you admit, an excitement beginning to bubble underneath the surface of all your reasons why you shouldn’t. “Maybe we do Wednesday, Thursday all grab-and-go sort of breakfast stuff in addition to the bakery.”

“Kind of like a NY-style bodega,” Luca adds, building on your idea. “You know. With a little extra finesse.”

“Yes! Then… Friday, maybe, we pivot to full breakfast/brunch till the end of Saturday,” you reply, building off what Luca’s just said.

“Think Wednesday – Saturday service would work?” he asks curiously, knowing that most places are closed on Sundays in Copenhagen.

“We could try it out. Extend our hours to Sunday down the line IF it feels right,” you reason with enough ease to worry you a little. You begin to back pedal, your mind flooded with doubt. “But-, I don’t know, honey. Don’t you think Copenhagen has enough bakeries?”

“Not ours! Copenhagen doesn’t have ours yet,” Luca protests, as soon he begins to recognize what’s going on in your head. His excitement and passion alone might convince you to do this as he sits up on his knees, his body language expressing just how fully IN he is on this idea.

His face changes—he’s only just a little more serious this time—his tone light and voice gentle as he warns you with a:

“And I’m not letting you talk to yourself out of this.” He crosses his arms over his chest almost as if it’s a challenge. “So tell me more about this bakery-slash-brunch spot you’ve got in mind.”

“Luca Davies! I don’t know where you get off thinking you can sweet talk me into this,” you scold him teasingly.

He’s even faster to reply.

“Oh I think I can.”

And this time, you know it’s a challenge.

“Fine,” you concede to him, meeting him right in the middle of his challenge. “But I don’t want this to be all about my ideas. Besides, aren’t you the one who’s been thinking about it for months now?”

—---------------------------------------

Fall

Over fresh ink that’s barely had a chance to dry, you and Mathilde clink glasses in celebration of the very big step you’ve just taken together. The contract had barely been drawn up before she charged into now-your Vesterbro home, opened a bottle of Veuve Clicquot, ready to sign on the dotted line.

A promotion, chef du cuisine, and a bigger percentage in ownership of Kokuore—a piece of your heart—now shared between the woman who helped you create your masterpiece.

“I can’t believe we’re really fucking doing this!” Mathilde practically squeals, bursting at the seams with excitement as she rests her arms against your kitchen island. The two of you sit side by side on twin bar stools, facing each other to the best of the chair’s swivel-ability.

“I know. It’s unreal and yet it feels like the right thing, yeah?” you agree, half in shock. Shifting gears, your back to business as you continue with an explanation of the ownership plan that you’ve thought long and hard about. “It’s important to me to stay involved, but most of my focus will go towards the new space for at least the next year. We’ll have weekly check-ins and Mathilde, I want you to at least consider some kind of ownership eventually in the hospitality group should we go in that direction.”

“I forgot you went to business school. It’s very sexy,” she teases, but the prospect of a hospitality group feels even more exciting.

There’s a feeling of familiarity between you and your friend as you begin to break down some of the nitty gritty details of the contract. With Luca out for a jog, it reminds you of the days when it was just you, her, and Jesper, exploring your shared wildest dreams. The nostalgia wells in your chest as you take another sip from your champagne flute.

You were really doing this and you’re so lucky you get to do it with your favorite people.

Well, with your favorite people again.

Who would’ve thought that moving to Copenhagen would bring you this grand of an adventure?

—---------------------------------------

“Fine,” Luca agrees, knowing that the way he looks at you only stokes the flames you feel for him. He’s got plenty of ideas, spent maybe too much time thinking about breakfast menus and laminated pastry doughs folded with all kinds of experimental ingredients. He hasn’t felt this creative in… well… since he met you.

“I love the idea of breakfast/brunch. And I’m already feeling really inspired by the prospect of getting to create a menu with you, darling,” Luca begins, ready to build off of your previous idea. “I guess my first question is… who will lead it?”

He’s not expecting the elated, “You, silly!” that escapes your lips without hesitation.

It’s not that he has doubts about himself, but you are the one with the business degree. You’re also the one that’s opened a restaurant before, so he'd be more than happy to let you take reins.

“Not that I’m going to totally love being on opposite schedules but…” you continue, this hypothetical conversation feeling less and less hypothetical. “...maybe I turn Kokuore over to Mathilde… spend a little more time developing this next concept with you. But. Without question, my love, I think you should lead it.”

It’s his turn to be surprised, your unwavering belief in him felt so deeply it practically takes his breath away. The only response he can get out is:

“I love you.”

“I love you,” you giggle in response.

“I guess my question for you,” you shift cautiously, as it begins to dawn on you that this is something you just might want as much as he does. “...is… is this something you want to do? I mean, I know it’s going to be a really big pivot from fine dining and-.”

“God yes!” Luca exclaims, relieved at the thought. “I’ve been dying to get away from the fine dining stuff. I-. It’ll be an adjustment, sure. But yes. Yes, it’s what I want.”

You nod as you process, listening to the conviction in your lover’s voice.

He wants this. He really wants this.

And he’s so sure.

You let out a sigh of relief as you realize you don’t have to have to suppress the feeling any longer.

“Fuck it!” you declare, as if you’re inhaling for the first time. “Fuck ‘hypothetical.’ We should totally do this, babe.”

“Yeah?” “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

A beat.

“So…” Luca trails off, the wave of excitement beginning to wash over him.

“What do we call it?”

The baritone in his voice catches your attention, and as you look at him, you can practically see it all. In Luca you’ve found your second chapter, your second great love, and now your second restaurant. The word falls out of your mouth as if it were destiny:

“Seconds. I think… we should call it Seconds.”

“I love it,” he grins back at you.

And now, you’re just as certain about a second restaurant, because you get to do it with him. Luca chuckles, catching your gaze once more, almost as if he’s about to say ‘I told you so,’ as he utters a cheeky:

“Well, love. Looks like we gotta call Marcus and let him know he’s about to own 10% of a restaurant.”

#chef luca #will poulter #luca the bear #the bear season 2 #the bear headcanon #luca x reader #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #chef luca x reader #pastry chef luca #burn your life down #something will happen #berlioz #the bear season 3

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iheartyouyou · 1 year ago

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SWEETHEART | Jeremiah Fisher

Summary: After your parents file for a divorce, you’re forced to move in with your mom’s friend until the divorce is finalized. You wished you could stay with your dad and your friends, but when you meet Jeremiah Fisher, that changes. And now you’re wanting to stay in the Cousins. Too bad things don’t last forever.

Word Count:

Part: 6

previous part series masterlist next part

Authors Note: I’m like actually so sorry for not updating. I’ve just been really unmotivated but since season 2 is out I’ve gotten more motivation and energy to continue the series! Not proofread (like always) but please let me know if you want to be on the taglist or if I missed you! (it wouldn’t let me tag some ppl for some odd reason.)

“Y/N, wake up!” You hear someone whisper.

You mumble something you don’t even remember, shoving your face deeper into a pillow. You think whoever was trying to wake you left, and so just as you were about to fall back asleep a pillow hit your back.

You look up to see Jeremiah with a pillow in his hand… and he was shirtless. You lazily stared at his abs before he smacked your face with pillow.

Fuck, did he notice?

“C’mon! It’s Belly’s birthday, we gotta go get up before her.” He says.

“Wha—“ You start, cut off with another pillow to face. You reach your arm out to snatch the pillow away, but he pulls it out of your reach.

“What time is it?” You ask, rubbing your eyes.

“8:00”

“What the hell—“

“It’s Belly’s birthday, we gotta decorate the kitchen before she wakes up.” He explains, throwing the pillow back onto your bed.

It was her birthday? Shoot, why didn’t anybody tell you? You would’ve gotten her a gift, you know you just met her and all but still.

“I’ll be down in a bit.” You mumble, shoving your face back into your pillow.

Maybe you could get her a gift later? What does she even like?

“Okay, make sure to brush your teeth… I can smell your breath all the way from over here.” He exaggerates, jokingly grimacing as he plugs his nose.

“Shut up!”

And before you knew it, you were back asleep. You were exhausted from the night before. After Belly joined in on your guys’ movie marathon, she shortly fell asleep and whenever you would close your eyes for longer than 5 seconds, Jeremiah would be the one to poke you, waking you up. It wasn’t until after the movies were over, Jeremiah woke Belly up and the two didn’t even have a chance to leave before you were passed out.

You rubbed your eyes hastily, jumping out of bed after you heard the multiple “heys” coming from downstairs.

Grabbing the first shirt and shorts you saw, you sped walk downstairs, following the voices.

“….Conrad, uh, do you wanna give Belly your present?” You hear Susannah ask.

It’s quiet for a few moments, before Conrad responds, “Sorry… I forgot.”

Nobody noticed you yet as you watch the side of Belly’s face fall, a small frown on her lips.

An awkward pause of silence washes over before Belly quickly recovers, “Oh. That’s cool— I wasn’t really expecting anything anyways.”

Another awkward pause happens until your mom spots you. “Ah, there’s Y/N!”

You watch as all eyes fall on you, your mom getting up from her spot on the couch and making her way to you. She pulls out a small box from her front pocket, giving it to you. She mouths the words; “We’ll talk later”

You give her a tight lipped smile, before she makes her way back to her spot. You follow quickly, giving the box to Belly as you say “Happy Birthday.”

Belly sends you an appreciative smile, “Aw, Y/N. You really didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Pfttt, of course I did.” You say, watching as she opened the box. It was a pair of earrings along with a necklace. Her smile widens, “Thank you!”

Conrad makes an excuse, before exiting the room as Belly smiles once falls again.

“Hey, why don’t we practice driving before we have to go pick up Taylor from the bus station?” You hear Jeremiah say.

Who the hell is Taylor?

“I can’t believe you would sleep in like that!” Your mom lectures you after pretty much everybody left the house. Jeremiah invited you to go witness “Belly’s terrible driving skills” but you mom quickly shot him down.

“I didn’t know—“ You start, uncomfortably sitting at the edge of her bed.

“Really? Because didn’t Jeremiah wake you up?”

“Well, yeah—“

“Jesus, Y/N. Why are you acting like this? I didn’t raise you—

“Oh, I don’t know! Maybe because you’re forcing me to stay here when I can stay with Dad!” You interrupt.

Before your mom could even get a chance to go off at you, a knock on the door stops her. She exhales before opening the door.

Susannah stands there with a smile on her face, “Hey, I was wondering if I can take Y/N out for shopping? I need to get some stuff for tonights dinner, It would be a great time to get to know her better.”

Your mom stays quiet for a moment before nodding, “Yeah, I’m sure it’ll be fun.”

You follow Susannah outside to her car, silent as you sat in the front seat. You put your seatbelt on before you realize that Susannah wasn’t making any move to put hers on.

“Y/N, look, I know how it must feel to be staying at some random strangers house. But, I’ve known your mom for a while. And she has her reasons, okay?” She tries to explain, staring at you with a look of empathy on her face.

You bite your tongue, trying to stop yourself from saying anything rude. You appreciated Susannah letting you stay here, she was nice, had amazing sons, well one of them at least, and she was an overall sweet person. It was just… you missed home. You missed your friends, you missed your dad, and it feels weird being here. You feel out of place, like an intruder. Everybody knows everybody but you.

“I just wanna go home.” You mumble, leaning your head against the car door.

She stays silent for a moment. “… Okay, how bout we make a deal?”

This perks your interest as you lift your head to look at her.

“If you still wanna go home by the end of this week, I’ll talk to your mom and see about flying you home.”

Your eyes widen, “Wait really? You’d do that?”

“Yes, but only if your mom is on board. Just try to stay on your mom’s good side until then?” She suggests, sending you a wink causing you to laugh.

“Okay, okay, deal.” You say, trying your hardest not to smile from ear to ear.

She starts the car, “I actually need stuff for Belly’s birthday dinner tonight but we can stop for some pies and eat them in the car. Just don’t tell anybody.”

By the time you’re back at the house, you notice Jeremiah’s red jeep back in the driveway. You felt fat and full after splitting a pecan pie with Susannah and just wanted to sleep it off.

You helped get the groceries out of the car, setting them inside on the counter. Your mom was nowhere to be found, thank god so you didn’t have to continue the lecture from earlier… at least for now.

As you were about to grab the last bag, you spot Conrad and his girlfriend, whatever her name is, walking to the backyard.

Oh god were they about to make out in the pool or what? Why’d he even bring her? It’s Belly’s birthday and he just brought his girlfriend over like they weren’t arguing a few days ago? Pathetic.

“Do you need help with putting these away?” You offer Susannah once your back inside, she shoos you away, claiming you should go hang out with the rest of the kids.

You shoot her a appreciative smile, your arms sore from carrying all those bags as you went from store to store.

Opening the sliding door, the first people you notice are Conrad and his girlfriend sitting on the edge, and the next thing is a net with a volleyball flying over it.

“Hey, Y/N! You’re back!” You hear Belly shout, Conrad and his girlfriend both turn to look at you but you ignore them as you make your way closer to the pool.

“Hey.” You say. You finally notice the new face next to her, a dirty blonde in a teal bikini. And you definitely don't miss the dirty look she sends you.

She waits a few moments, hoping her friend in the bikini would introduce herself but she doesn’t make any effort, still looking at you like you were gum on the bottom of her shoe.

Belly nervously laughs, “Y/N, this is my best friend Taylor. Taylor, this is Y/N. You know the one I was telling you about on the phone?”

“Oh yeah.” Taylor says, forcing a smile your way.

What the hell was her problem?

“Join us! Steven can sit out—“ Jeremiah starts, throwing the ball up in the air but catching it.

“No, no, I never agreed to that!” Steven argues, Jeremiah spins around and guessing by the look on his face or something he said that you couldn’t hear Steven groans before giving in.

“Actually we were about to go to the beach, right Belly?” Taylor speaks.

“Uh, yeah.. Y/N do you want to come?” Belly asks, looking away from her friend to look at you.

Telling by the annoyed look on Taylors face and the way she’s been looking at you, you can tell she doesn’t want you there. Or anywhere around her for that matter.

“No thanks, I’m pretty tired from shopping.” You tried to joke, chuckling to yourself.

“How could you be tired if you slept in this morning?” Taylor quips, shooting you a glare. Belly turns around to shoot her one, causing Taylor to shrug.

“Haha, yeah…” You mumble, scratching your arm. Oh god, the end of the week couldn’t come any faster.

Belly gives you an empathic look, or you think she did, you were too busy staring at your feet.

You didn’t want to go back inside because you didn’t want to seem like coward but you also didn’t want to stay if you weren’t wanted.

Jeremiah was quick to notice your awkwardness, telling you that you could dip your legs into the water on his side and so that’s what you did. Sitting on the edge of the pool, dangling your legs in the water and most important of all, sitting far far away from Taylor.

Instead of Belly and Taylor going to the beach like Taylor said they would, they play a few more rounds of volleyball until Taylor hit Conrad’s girlfriend in the face causing her and Conrad to go inside.

And soon Steven left because his girlfriend called him, causing him to almost drop his phone in the water, and because it was just Jeremiah vs. Belly and Taylor they finally decided to go to the beach.

“Hey, y’know Belly doesn’t care you slept in right?” Jeremiah says, splashing water at you. He swims closer to you, pulling himself out of the pool to sit on the edge next to you.

You roll your eyes, “Her friend does.”

“Taylor? Yeah, she’s a little cray cray.” He says, motioning it with his finger.

You laugh, shaking your head. “How long is she staying?”

“Just a few days, then we’ll be Taylor free for the rest of summer.”

The rest of summer.

“You should get in.” He says, elbowing your side.

“I don’t have a bathing suit.”

He stays silent for a moment, “So?” He pushes you into the water, your body submerging into the cold water as you shoot up coughing.

You can hear him laughing, while you’re basically choking on the chlorine filled water. “You jerk! I didn’t want to get my clothes wet!”

“You can still take them off.” He suggests, watching as you slicked your hair back.

You shoot him a playful glare, “In your dreams.”

“Every dream since I’ve met you.”

You splash him with water, “You’re stupid.”

He stares at you for a moment before tackling you under water, pulling you back up with his arm around your waist. “What’d you say?”

You wipe your eyes, trying to shove him off you but no budge. Your guys’ faces were even closer, your breath hitched. What was gonna happen?

He made eye contact with you a few times, and the times he wasn’t doing that he was staring at your lips. He started leaning in, closer and closer to the point where your noses were almost touching.

You felt like you couldn’t even breathe.

Did you even want this?

And just as he was about to move closer you shoved him away, taking him by surprise.

He backs away quickly, eyes widening.

“S-sorry.. I just… I just don’t really know you.” You say, scratching the back of your neck.

“No, yeah, yeah I shouldn’t have done that. You don’t have to apologize.” He says, eyes still as round as saucers.

“Uhrm… yeah…” You mumble, crossing your arms around yourself as you suddenly felt cold even though you were used to the water.

What a way to kill a mood. Why’d you even do that, damnit.

He nods, placing his lips into a tight line. “I’m gonna…” He closes his mouth, pointing to the house while backing up.

“Okay.” You say, nodding.

You watch him turn around, pull himself out of the water and grab a towel before he quickly goes inside

Leaving you in the pool alone as you stared at the spot he was just at.

Taglist: @mindflay3r @lexi-2004 @buckys2thicc @agoodmansaid @jeremiahfisherslover @yourfavoritefangirl @leslienjazzy @natsgaygf @justkayleighhere @puptails @simp4jackharlow @yobabygirlally @whenmypartysover @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @medusaslilsister @maexxc @siriuslysmoking @nowimyurdaisy @totallynotkaibiased @eevee0722 @theyallhaveluv4lyricb @wh0reforstefansalvatore @pariahsparadise

#jeremiah fisher fluff #jeremiah fisher imagine #jeremiah fisher x you #jeremiah fisher x reader #jeremiah fisher fanfic #the summer i turned pretty #tsitp #jeremiah fisher #belly conklin #conrad fisher #tsitp x reader #tsitp imagine #tsitp x you

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milksuu · 1 year ago

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Second Magic

Pairing(s): Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III & II / witch!fem!reader

Word count: 2.OK

Content/Warnings: soulmates, reincarnation, immortal, soft magic, slice of life, fluff, minimal use of y/n, minor angst, implied sexual themes, minor blood

Summary: Death claims everyone at some point. Unfortunately for you, your gift of magic cursed you with eternal youth and an ability that has shunned you from the village of Berk. More than one-hundred years later, memories resurface when you’re visited for a potion from Berk’s next chief.

He was the spitting image of your long-lost love—your soulmate—Hiccup Horrendous Haddock II.

a/n: hello there everyone! I'm back with something new to add to the hiccupxreader tags. still on my mythical/magical kick. I do plan to have about three parts to this. so please stay tuned for updates, or let me know if you'd like to join a tag list. thank you and please enjoy.

There came a knock at the door. No one ever knocked on a witch's door by accident.

From the bedroom window, you peeked through the muslin curtain. Below the two-story cottage, grew a garden of lush greens and wild flowers. Where the weeds and dandelions led a trail to your front porch, a figure stood at your door. More pestering thuds bothered the home and the skin of your nose wrinkled. Muttering a thing or two, you ambled down the aching stairs. Before reaching the door, you rummaged through a decorative drawer, procuring a gray river rock. It was enchanted with one of your magic spells—a screeching stone, you called it.

“You can stop trying to break down my door,” you said, pressing the stone against the entryway. “Didn’t you read the sign posted on the oak tree outside? Clearly, it said no trespassing.”

“No—think I might’ve missed it,” the muffled voice of a young man answered, and it seemed honest enough. The stone hummed at the response. “Are you [Y/N], by chance?”

“There’s a chance I could be,” you said with soured lips. “Not many people come this far into the woods. And fewer people know of me, let alone my name. Which leads me to ask, who exactly sent you?”

“Gothi sent me. She mentioned you two knowing each other,” he replied in truth, and the stone continued its soft hymns. “She said if there’s anyone who could help me, it would be you.”

She’s still alive?

“That all depends. I trust Gothi, but I’ll need to trust you as well. You can start by telling me your name.”

There was a beat in the air. “It’s Hiccup.”

The ghost of your breath trapped itself inside your chest. That name—it had been buried beneath over a century ago. Yet the stone sang sweetly, and your heart squeezed in a haunting delight. A part of you wished it would scream. Wretched and revolting as it was, it would give you reason to cast the stranger away.

To your grief, he wasn’t so much a stranger as you thought.

Pocketing the stone, you opened the door with a creak. Meeting the green meadow of his eyes, your magic dug its fiery claws between your ribs. With all your power, you tried not to let his familiar freckles unsettle you. Fearing if you did, your magic would spring out of control. The windows would shatter. The roof would crumble to dust. The fireplace would spark and scorch the floors. Or something much worse. Touch him, and reveal when death would knock on his own door.

You wouldn’t let that happen. Not again. Not ever.

With a deep breath, you pushed the door open wider. “Come in,” you said, "we can talk more inside.”

He tipped his chin and thanked you for the invitation. When he stepped through, his gaze swept about your home. Dried flowers, herbs and spices hung from every inch of ceiling by twine. Sunlight spilled from the white-painted windows, and warmed the cushions of two chairs perched near the fireplace. Bookcases stood on either side of the mantle, stretched tall enough to touch the rafters, and wide enough to cover the entire walls. At the back of the home was the kitchen and brewing space. With emerald cabinets and honied-countertops, stacked with jars and vials, scattered petals, and corked potions.

“Make yourself comfortable,” you said. “I’ll prepare us something warm to drink.”

With a blink, he tore his gaze from the foliage and oddities. “Sure, I would appreciate it.”

When you left for the kitchen, he absently traced a hand against the chairs upholstery. Although it matched its counterpart, there were subtle differences; the legs were built taller, and arm rests crafted higher. When he took a seat, it felt made for someone of his stature—an odd thing to notice. His gaze raised to a row of books on one of the bookcase shelves. One particular book stood out among the jewel-toned backs of scarlet, green, and yellow. A simple spine of leather, softened over-time with use, and streaks of charcoal staining the edges.

Like a cool breeze, a sense of familiarity swept through him, touching the marrow of his bones. It begged the question.

“Have you always lived here by yourself?” Hiccup asked.

“You could say that.”

For a moment, you lost yourself in the fragrant pools. When was the last time you served someone tea? It may have been the day before a young man's mortal fate—the same day you couldn’t convince him to stay. Leaving you to join the collection of things he left behind. Your throat tightened around what felt like a ball of hot wax. Searing as it was, you swallowed its entirety.

Balancing the trembling porcelain, you returned to the next room and took a seat of your own.

“I’m sorry if I was rude earlier. I’ve…never welcomed visitors. It’s always been safer that way.” With a smile, you offered him a cup. “But between Gothi sending you and your genuine nature, I’d like to help you.”

“Thanks—and you don’t have to apologize to me. I’m the one who decided to come here unannounced. So…” Hiccup trailed off, taking a drink. He stared at the ripples with solemnity. “My father isn’t doing so well. And you know Gothi, she’s the best Seer we have on Berk. She’s done all she can, but it’s not going to be enough. When I asked if there was anything more I could do, she recommended that I seek you out.”

“I’m sorry about your father,” you said, lowering your own cup. “If Gothi wasn’t able to help him, then he must be very sick.”

“I’m trying not to think about it too much.” He worked the tension of his lips between his teeth. Then pitched a sincere look your way, and said, “So you know, I’m not worried about you being a witch. If anything, I find myself pretty lucky to ask for your help. Even if that does mean I have to sell my soul for it.”

“I have some good news for you, then. I won’t be needing it. Quite frankly, I wouldn’t even know what to do with yours,” you said with a laugh. “But most spells and potions require something of personal value. At least, the stronger ones do.”

Setting your tea cup aside, you hopped onto your toes. Approaching one of the bookcases, you trailed a finger against the backs of countless titles. Your search came to an end when you plucked one out; dense with musky pages, a silver lock clasped at the side, and a small wooden door carved into the cover.

Peering over your shoulder, you found your nosy company arched forward in his chair. You cleared your throat, “Don’t think about peeking over here. A witch never reveals her secrets.”

He apologized under his breath, and shifted his chin away. But like a child snuffed out of his curiosity, he wore a pout of disappointment. You smiled in amusement, and brought your attention back to the book.

You knocked against the small door in a melodic tempo. The little door sprang open, revealing a tiny ear inside. You brought your mouth close, whispering the incantation with the smallest voice you could muster. Too loud, and the door would snap shut against your lips.

An unpleasant experience you remembered from childhood.

The lock clicked open, and you breathed a sigh of relief. Page after page, you mumbled and zipped through each recipe. A couple more turns, you tapped against the right one. Breezing through the ingredients, you had all but one. Oh buttercups, you blushed.

“What is it?” Hiccup furrowed his brows at your dawning expression. “Everything all right?”

“It’s a bit hard to explain. I—I don’t have one of the ingredients any longer. But maybe you still do,” you exclaimed, taming the warmth of your cheeks. “Come with me.”

With a tilt of your head, you gestured to the kitchen. Your guest rose from his seat, following your footsteps. With instructions for him not to touch anything, you scrambled to find your proper ingredients; mugwort, newt tail, bog water, and a strand of witch hair. Tossed and muddled by mortar and pestle, you poured the mixed contents into a glass jar.

“Time for the last ingredient,” you said, picking up a kitchen knife, “hold out a finger.”

Although hesitant, he lifted a hand. “Tell me you’re not going to cut it off. I’m already down a leg, if you haven’t noticed.”

“Not at all. That would be more than what I actually need,” you answered, albeit a little too plainly. With your other hand, you touched the stone tucked in your dress pocket. “You only have to be honest when I ask you this question. If you’re not, then we’ll both hear about it.”

He nodded carefully. “Go ahead.”

“Have you ever—Oh, how should I put this?” Calming the storm of embarrassment brewing in your chest, you exhaled the words in one breath. “Have you ever committed the coupling act?”

There was a gulp. Then a twitch of his lips. Followed by a blush that bloomed from nose to ear. “What? No, I—I haven’t. What kind of question is that?”

Without a word, you sliced the tip of his finger. A hiss sizzled from his mouth when you squeezed it open. Aligning the bottle underneath, you caught the blood falling in pitter-patters. Once enough dripped into the brew, a plum of red smoke burst into the air. Both of you coughed and waved your hands around the space. When the pungent cloud faded into wisps, you corked the bubbling potion.

“A warning would’ve been nice.” He wrapped his finger in a handkerchief you provided. He went on to mutter, “Not sure why you couldn’t use your own finger.” By the delivery, the last part was meant to stay in his head.

Embarrassment washed through your veins, and painted every inch of your skin posy pink. The sight of it colored his own complexion.

“I didn’t mean to say that, honestly,” he apologized after the realization struck him. “It just sort of came out.”

“Absolutely no tact at all,” you chastised, snatching back the handkerchief. “Gods, you’re just as bad as him.”

He blinked with mystification. “Him?”

A slip of the tongue had the back hairs of your neck bristling. Magic pulsed like coils of lightning in your stomach. Crackling up through your chest, wanting to burn deeper holes in your heart. The roof groaned and creaked. Grains of wood dust fell onto your nose, dispelling the awful feeling.

“You have to go. Please, take it and leave. And don’t worry about repaying me.” Before he could argue, you forced the potion into his possession. With a clap of a hand, the wood beneath his feet shifted, motioning him out the front door.

“Wait a second.“ He wedged his prosthetic between the shutting door and frame. “Right bookcase, third shelf, leather back.”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“There’s a book that belongs to my family. Ask me how I know.” The question was rhetorical, and in your bafflement, he continued. “My families crest is sealed in its spine. And the only way you could have it is if someone gave it to you. You said you never had visitors. Sorry to say, but I’m not buying it.”

“That book has nothing to do with you or your family,” you glowered, and the stone screeched and howled from your pocket. You clapped your hands against your splitting ears, with your company mimicking your movements. Over the prevailing wails, you cried, “You’re right—I lied and I’m sorry for it! It belonged to your great-grand uncle. And that’s the truth of it.”

The screeching stone fell to whispers. But the thumping of your heart continued to beat in your ears.

“Wait. My great-grand uncle?” He caught a breath in his throat. “You don’t mean—there’s no possible way you’re talking about—”

“I am.” Your voice dropped to a whisper. “My only visitor before you; Hiccup Horrendous Haddock II.”

#hiccup x reader #httyd #hiccup httyd #hiccup horrendous haddock iii #how to train your dragon #hiccup horrendous haddock ii #reader insert #httyd fanfiction #httyd 2 #x reader #fanfiction #hiccup x you #httyd book references #you bet we're going to get some flashbacks of hiccup the second #buckle up dragon riders #we're expecting some angst in this fanfic

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youwouldntdownloadapizza · 10 months ago

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The Gates of Jackson | Joel Miller x F!Reader | Chapter 1 - New Arrivals

masterlist | ao3 | follow @youwouldntdownloadapizza and turn on notifications for updates

You showed up at the gates of Jackson with hands covered in blood and no memory of how you got there. That was two years ago. Since then, you've become Maria's right-hand woman and the person in charge of Jackson's logistical backend. Patrol schedules, inventory—all your purview. When a patrol gone wrong forces you to get to know Joel, memories of your past begin resurfacing—along with their consequences.

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pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+, minors DNI

word count: 1.6k

tags: no use of y/n, eventual smut, no beta we die like sarah, jackson era, other additional tags to be added, slow burn, ellie needs a hug, joel lives, good parent joel, reader-insert, reader insert, forced proximity, only one bed trope, nightmares, childbirth, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, soft joel, cuddling & snuggling, fluff, masturbation, pining, joel falls first, possibly demisexual reader (tbd), ptsd, ptsd flashbacks, panic attacks, amnesia, sexual braiding

chapter warnings: childbirth (mentioned)

Chapter 1 - New Arrivals

The first time you met Joel, he stank like shit. Literally, he smelled like he had rolled in it. You issued him soap, and sent him on his way. That was a loss to Jackson’s ledgers you were more than willing to take.

The second time, he smelled better. Unremarkable mostly, more of a neutral scent tinged with man smell around the edges. Nothing to write home about. Still, you issued him deodorant. Couldn’t take any chances.

He requested bullets, a basic first aid kit, and warm clothing. With Maria’s approval, you made the relevant deductions and issued the items at hand. You even sprung for wool socks. With a winter like this, he could use all the help he could get.

“You’re headed south, right?” you asked him as he packed a worn duffel bag.

“Colorado,” he replied. You waited, but that’s all he gave you. Guess he didn’t feel like elaborating.

“What about the girl, she need anything?”

He considered the offer, then asked, “You got any pens, pencils or anything? Notebooks? She likes to keep track of things, take notes. Draw, mostly,” he trailed off, scrubbing a hand over his face, “And we’re almost out of paper.”

You smiled at that. A girl after your own heart . “I’ll see what I can scrounge up.”

* * *

You asked Tommy about him, once the two of them were gone. He didn’t have much to say.

“Barely talked to the girl. Probably know about as much about her as you do. Joel… Well, Joel’s an enigma.”

You rolled your eyes at that. “Come on, Tommy. I’m asking for the basics, not his social security number.”

Tommy sighed. “He’s brash, he’s protective, he’s opinionated… I don’t know what much else to tell you. He’s just Joel. One of those people you gotta get to know just by knowing ‘em, I guess.”

You blinked twice. “Supremely helpful, Tommy.”

* * *

The next time you met Joel, he smelled better but looked worse. You only half-remembered his eyes, but something in them last time had been warmer. The ones you saw now were… dead, almost. Like something within them had been destroyed. Whether he’d been the one to do the destroying or it had been done to him remained to be seen.

You’d seen him and the girl with Tommy and Maria in the dining hall that first time they’d come to town, wolfing down chili like they’d just discovered, well, chili. They ate slower now, both of them, not like they weren’t in a rush but like their heads were elsewhere. The girl seemed to stare into nowhere—not all the time, but it was distinct when she did it.

Joel didn’t zone out. No, if anything he was zoned in . On that poor girl who had been so full of life just months ago, now hollowed out like far too many others. You’d see about filling her back up later. But for now, he was the one that perplexed you. Why was he so focused on her? What had happened out there? Part of you never wanted to find out, but part of you really, really did.

Regardless, she needed new shoes. So you joined them. The man stopped mid-chew, looking up at you with trepidation.

“Hi,” you smiled, “glad you two made it back in one piece.”

“Me too,” he replied, turning his attention back to his cud. You couldn’t tell if that was supposed to be a joke or not. You turned your attention to the girl.

“You’re Ellie, right? I’m Doe. Or that’s what most folks around here call me, anyway.”

“Doe?” She cocked an eyebrow. “Like a deer?”

“A female deer,” you winked back at her. She stared at you blankly.

“It’s a song,” Joel muttered to her softly, “from before.”

“Oh,” Ellie nodded. The silence dragged, but thankfully you came prepared.

“Cobbler?” you offered bowls to each of them. It was fresh from the oven, still steaming and smelling of cinnamon.

“Yes, please!” Ellie yanked the bigger bowl towards herself, broccoli forgotten. She got a few bites in before Joel intervened, pulling the sugar aside and reinstating the vegetables. The girl frowned at that, but his pointed look said not to bother arguing. So she didn’t.

“Don’t worry, it’ll still be hot in a minute.” You tucked into your own cobbler, savoring the warm sweetness as it glided across your tongue. Even in Jackson, it was a delicacy. But it was spring, and the cherries were here. And you’d accounted for everything.

“Did you want something?” Joel asked, finishing his own plate and reaching for the cobbler.

“Ellie needs new shoes.”

“We’ve got it handled,” he said.

“Do you, though? You haven’t got much to trade with, and we’ve got plenty in inventory. That’s kind of what it’s there for. Why suffer blisters when communism’s got your back?”

“Can I?” Ellie’s face lit up. You liked seeing her eyes like that: brighter. They belonged that way.

Joel swallowed his cobbler, mulling over the idea. “After lunch,” he agreed, nodding to the eager teen. “Finish your cobbler first.”

* * *

Ellie’s new light-up sneakers lit the way as you exited the storeroom through your office. Joel had insisted on a sensible pair as well, but you couldn’t deny the kid a little whimsy.

“Maria give you your patrol schedule yet?” you asked him, nodding to the well-worn chalkboard in the corner. Routes on the left, days and times up top. Names filled in the boxes in between, a testament to your logistical wizardry.

“Not yet,” he said, crossing to examine it. “Guess she doesn’t need to, now.”

“I’ve got you paired up with Tommy. Seemed easiest, to get you started. You’ll be headed up to the lodge, it’s a pretty standard route. Get the occasional runner, but it’s wildlife more than anything.”

He nodded, heading toward where Ellie was already scampering out the door.

“See you Tuesday, I suppose. Guessing you’re the one to check-in with?” he asked.

You smiled at his correct assumption.

“Sure am.”

* * *

You didn’t know Joel well enough to make assumptions about his punctuality, but Tommy was never late. Even you were late from time to time, often getting swept up in tasks and losing track of things. But the man was annoyingly punctual. According to Maria, that’s part of why she fell for him.

Tommy was late today.

You crossed to the large observation window lining one wall of your office. It gave you a clear view of the front gates and surrounding guard stations, but there was no sign of Tommy anywhere. Or Joel, for that matter.

A knock on your door interrupted your analysis. It was Eugene. The grizzled old man acted anything but, a smile breaking out across his face at the sight of you.

“Hey, Doe! How’s things?” He asked.

“Fine. I’m looking for Tommy, actually–”

“Didn’t you hear?” He interrupted, “Maria’s gone into labor. He’s with her at the clinic.”

Your stomach dropped. Here you were preparing to chew Tommy out for his tardiness when the whole time he’d been busy becoming a father. A very valid excuse.

“And Joel?” you asked. “They were supposed to patrol together this afternoon, lodge route.”

“Not sure. He wasn’t with them. Listen, I gotta go grab the baby blanket I made and drop it off, but you and I need to have a drink one of these days. I worry your hair’s gonna start falling out in clumps if you don’t take a break eventually.”

“Yeah, but then what would you do, patrol out to the dam with Jesse? There’s a reason I don’t pair you two up anymore.”

“Because you don’t like blackberries?” he chided.

You frowned, “No, because you spent so long harvesting them your 8 hour patrol took 12. I was this close to sending out a search party. A little planning prevents a lot of headaches, Eugene.”

He turned to leave, looking back over his shoulder to get the last word. “You know what else is good for headaches? Whiskey.”

You sent Eugene on his way with instructions to give Maria your best. You’d visit her when the baby was here. For now, you had a community to protect.

With Tommy out of commission and Joel MIA, you’d have to find someone else to help you cover this patrol route. Dina was always a solid partner, if she was around. Devon the bartender could generally be counted on to have your back. Eugene would be ideal, but you didn’t want to make him work a double.

You headed to the stables to see who you could find. Upon entering, the warmth of the building and company of the animals soothed your unease, if only slightly.

You found your horse’s stall, the gray spotted mare whinnying at your arrival.

“Hey, Bailey,” you smiled, offering her a slightly bruised apple. She took it gratefully, big brown eyes closing in enjoyment.

“She’s beautiful,” a voice said from behind you, making you jump.

“Sorry,” the voice stepped into the light, “It’s just me.”

“Joel,” you took a deep breath in an attempt to slow your racing heartbeat.

“Sorry I’m late–”

You cut him off with a raised hand, looking him in the eye.

“You’re not with your brother,” you finally said, more of a statement than a question.

“You’re not with your best friend,” he replied, offering no further details.

You sighed, debating arguing with him about it before deciding the subject was better left untouched. You had your reasons for staying away from childbirth. If Joel had his own, he was entitled to that. You weren’t going to press him on it, so long as he didn’t press you.

“Come on,” you said, swinging your leg over Bailey’s back and settling into the saddle, “We’re making up for lost time.”

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller series #joel miller fic #the last of us #tlou #joel x reader #joel x you #no use of y/n #joel miller x f!reader #jackson era #joel lives #ao3 #fanfic #fanfiction

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redrose10 · 10 months ago

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Yoongi X Female Reader. CEO/Arranged Marriage AU

Summary: You were selected to marry the wayward CEO/Billionaire/Heir, Min Yoongi. You went into it with an open mind and heart determined to try and make it work. Yoongi on the other hand had no intention of ever letting you in let alone allowing himself to fall in love with you. Slowly you start to associate the smell of cinnamon and vanilla with the feelings of hurt and sorrow.

Word count: 2,531

This chapter will touch on some darker subjects so I highlighted the specific trigger warning in red. In the story it’s not really detailed or any thing and is really minor but I still wanted to make it known just in case.

Warnings: (May get updated as chapters progress): Arranged marriage, cheating/infidelity, hints of smut (Probably won’t get very explicit but we’ll see how it goes), Sexual Assault, Very brief allusion to suicide, Brief mentions of death, Reader grew up an orphan, General Angst, Swearing

*******************************************************

Alright here is chapter 9! Thank you to everyone that has read this story and for the comments and messages. I tried to add everyone to the tag list that I saw but I feel like I missed people and I apologize for that. I was never good at keeping tabs of a tag list.

Tag list: @gimeow @kam9404 @viankiss @baechugff @gaby-93 @kayleefriedchicken

You stared back still in shock from everything that had just happened to you. “Y/N are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

You shook your head as Yoongi wrapped his suit jacket around you gently pulling you into a hug. The cinnamon and vanilla scent that you’d come to hate was somehow comforting in that moment. After a few seconds he pulled you along with him.

“What about him?”, you asked looking back at the man still lying on the ground.

“Don’t worry about him. I’ll handle it later. Let’s just get you out of here.”

He quickly had a car ready and got you inside while he got in after you advising the driver to head to Jimins.

“Yoongi who was that guy and how did he know so much about us?”

He ran his hand through his already ruffled hair. You noticed the bruise on his knuckles starting to form.

“It’s a really long story Y/N.”

You scoffed, “Yoongi he just assaulted me and knew a lot of my personal information so I think I deserve an explanation regardless of how long the story is.”

“You’re right. Once we get to Jimin’s I’ll explain everything.”

You looked over at him noticing how disheveled he looked. You wanted to reach over and smooth his hair and comfort him, but you decided against it after remembering everything that happened between the two of you recently.

“How did you know where to find me?”, you asked stop kind of surprised that it was him who came to your rescue.

“Well I saw you leave out the front entrance when I was talking to Taemin and I was going to go after you then but I figured you’d want some space so I stayed back. After you were gone for a while I started to get worried and began looking around and then I got a call from Jungkook?”

“You’re intern Jungkook?”

He chuckled, “Yeah, apparently he had met a new friend during the auction and was in the backseat of a car that was parked on the street with that friend and he saw you. He called me and said you were with a guy but he wasn’t sure if you were l with him willingly or not because you looked uncomfortable so I started running towards where you were while I stayed on the phone with him and he kept an eye on you and that’s how I found you. At first I was just going to leave you be because if you wanted to be with another guy I have no right to stop you but when Jungkook said you looked uncomfortable I knew I had to at least check on you and then I heard you telling him to stop and that’s when I decided to step in.”

“Oh well I’ll have to tell Jungkook thanks for looking out for me next time I see him.”

Once back at Jimins you quickly showered and changed into some comfy clothes and headed back towards the living room. Yoongi had borrowed some clothes from Jimin so he was comfy as well and he walked over handing you a mug of warm milk. Smiling you accepted the glass.

After he took a seat next to you he started flipping through channels on the tv.

“Okay Yoongi enough stalling. Tell me what’s going on.”

He let out a long sigh and set the remote down, “Alright, soooo the guy that attacked you is Suri’s brother, Hwan.”

“I’m sorry what?!”, you asked in between coughing on the sip of milk you just swallowed.

He continued, “Yep. I’ve known Suri and her brother since we were kids. We all went to the same school. He’s a year younger than us. Not long after everything fell apart with Mia I developed a friends with benefits relationship with Suri but I was clear from the start that I never wanted anything more. I knew rather quickly though that she was developing feelings for me so I tried to end the relationship but she made an offer. And then I got really selfish.”

“Yoongi what did you do?”

“Remember how I said that at one point I had dreams to be a music producer and rapper?”

You nodded.

“Well Suri’s dad happens to own Bangtan Records, one of the most successful labels in Asia. After trying to break things off she promised me she would get her dad to release my mixtape if I kept seeing her. I know now that I should’ve just walked away but at the time I was hurt and going through a lot of shit mentally and emotionally and I thought it was a great idea. I lost my dream of marrying Mia but maybe I could still achieve my dream of making music. I gave her a copy of the tape and we continued on with our friends with benefits relationship.”

He paused to take a deep breath. You looked at him wide eyed waiting for what was next.

“Anyways after like a year or so she still hadn’t given her dad the tape. I was in a better place mentally and I had started focusing on the company more so I didn’t really care about releasing music at that point. Honestly, I kind of forgot about the whole thing until a few months ago when I told her that I was ending things for good. I told her I was married and wanted to be a better husband and that included not sleeping around with anyone any more. Obviously she didn’t take it well and brought up the tape again. She said if I didn’t continue the relationship that she would have it released.”

You sat there really confused by the whole story and you didn’t mean to let out a laugh but you just couldn’t stop it.

“Yoongi please forgive me for saying this but that seems like a really dumb reason to keep going through all of this. Why don’t you just let her release the mix tape? What’s the worst that could happen? People make fun of you for some cringy lyrics you wrote a long time ago. I mean you’ve embarrassed yourself enough over the years anyways so this shouldn’t be anything new. It would probably blow over in a few weeks and then you could move on with your life free from Suri.”

You realized your words may have been a little harsher than you intended when you noticed the redness of his cheeks. He scoffed, “It’s not that simple Y/N. I wrote most of those lyrics at a really dark time in my life. I talk about hating my parents and the life I was forced into even though I’ve been very privileged since birth and have never had to worry about money or any real world problems. I talk shit about capitalism but now I own a company that feeds into it and runs off of it. I’d be the biggest hypocrite out there. Theres a song where I rap about hooking up with any woman I see and I say something about tongue technology and going to Hong Kong.” You bit your lip to try and hide a chuckle for that one but Yoongi sees it. “I was young and dumb and thought I was cool. Okay?”, he said with raised eyebrows before continuing again, “I mean there’s even a song where I talk about how many times I thought about just ending it all so I wouldn’t have to feel anything any more and I could stop being a failure at everything. If that tape gets out it’ll ruin me and my business and everything that I worked hard to build. We’ll loose investors and business partners which will mean millions if not billions of dollars gone. I’ll be the laughing stock of the corporate world and the company could crumble. I’d be an even bigger embarrassment to my family than I already have been.”

“So what are you going to do Yoongi? Keep sleeping with her just to shut her up?”

“Honestly, after you walked out I thought about it. Not wanting to hurt you any more was the only reason I ended things with her to begin with so if you weren’t going to be in the picture I didn’t see any reason why I should stop. But I just don’t want to do it any more. I don’t want to hurt you any more and I don’t want this to keep hanging over my head.”

“Okay so if you ended things with her then why did she send you that text that I saw at the cabin? About last week being fun and the lingerie?”

“She had been insisting that I either meet up with her or she was releasing the tape. So the week before you and I went on our anniversary trip I did meet up with her just to shut her up for a while.”

You gasped, “So you did lie to me?” He went into panic mode grabbing your hands into his.

“No no no Y/N it’s not what you think. I didn’t meet up to sleep with her. We got dinner at that Japanese restaurant that had just opened down the street from my office. We had a private room and she ended up storming out of the place leaving me there. You can even ask the staff. They saw it all. I told her again that I wasn’t interested in that type of relationship any more and that her and I were over with. I offered her money. I offered her jewelry, or a car, or a penthouse to just go away. She wouldn’t accept any of it. At the end of the dinner she told me that not only would she release the tape but she’d make my life miserable in every way possible that she could, including making sure that you were miserable as well and then she left. She had been texting me like that the whole week leading up to the trip. Different photos and videos and messages. I think she was hoping that you would eventually see the message and get upset which is exactly what happened. I would always just delete them when they came through and never responded to any of her texts but I’m just too afraid to block her right now.”

“And what about her brother? How does he play into this?”

“Well Hwan never did like me to begin with. He’s always had this weird inferiority complex with me. He always has the need to prove that he’s better than me or to have what I have, even when we were younger. Anndddd I also might have slept with one or two or maybe three of his girlfriends over the years.”

You began rubbing your temples, “Seriously Yoongi? Is there anyone in this country that you haven’t slept with?” He just shrugged his shoulders before continuing, “I’m assuming that him and Suri saw it as a winning situation for both of them. They knew that hurting you would hurt me, you’d get upset and want nothing to do with me leaving me available for Suri, and Hwan would also get the satisfaction of taking something or someone that I love away from me so that’s why he went after you today.”

“Okay then and how did he know about Namjoon? He mentioned something about how Namjoon might actually care for me?”

You didn’t miss the eye roll that Yoongi gave at that question but you chose to ignore it in the moment. He ran his hands over his face, “I really don’t know Y/N. I’ve never mentioned him to either of them.” The thought that maybe this guy had been stalking you a lot longer than just tonight made your skin crawl. You didn’t know of any other way he could know about you and Namjoon.

This was all so much information to take in and you could feel a headache coming on but if this had you so stressed you could only imagine what Yoongi felt like.

“Yoongi I’m sorry I didn’t let you explain yourself sooner. Even though I was upset I should’ve at least given you the chance.”

He shook his head, “No no I completely understand why you did what you did. I was really upset too because just when I had decided to try and we were making a little progress I thought it was all going to be taken away from me. I should’ve chased after you but I didn’t want to hurt you any more than I already have. I am really sorry Y/N. For everything. You would be so much better off if you never came here and married me. You deserve so much more that what I can offer. I’m sorry you’re stuck with me.”

You noticed his hands shaking slightly. You gave them a little squeeze being careful to not be too hard on the bruised spot. Rubbing your thumb over the area you whispered, “Thank you for buying that painting for me today. You knew it was exactly what I wanted. And also thank you for, you know, saving me tonight. You really were my hero.”

“So does that mean I get moved up to Harry Potter status now or am I still Voldemort?”, he said flashing you a gummy smile you hadn’t seen in so long.

“Whoah slow down there. You still have a lot more groveling to do before I 100% forgive you for everything and give you Harry Potter status.”

He chuckled, “Understood. I will work on it.”

You sat in silence for a while trying to figure out how to proceed. Finally you asked, “Yoongi she’s blackmailing you which is pretty illegal. Why don’t you just go to the police or get lawyers involved or something? You obviously have the money and power.”

“It’s not that simple Y/N. I signed away the rights to that music so even if I do go after her the label can still release it and then it would be all for nothing with a legal battle on top of it.”

“I don’t know Yoongi. I feel like there has to be a way around this other than you just continuing to sleep with her. Which by the way is not going to work for me, so if you want this to work then we need to figure something else out.”

Before he could speak Jimin walked in dropping his bags at the entrance while being completely oblivious to everything that had happened during the last several hours. He curiously looked at the two of you sitting next to each other while holding hands.

He sat down on the other couch while pointing a finger at the two of you, “Soooo I’d love to know what’s going on between the two of you and why you’re holding hands in my living room right now. But I just saw something even stranger downstairs. Suri and her brother are currently down in the lobby with two police officers. Any idea why?”

#bts #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #yoongi angst #cinnamon&vanilla #yoongi x y/n #min yoongi #yoongi fic #arranged marriage au #bts fanfic #yoongi au #yoongi #bts fic #bts x reader #bts yoongi

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dreamywriter143 · 2 years ago

Text

Main Masterlist

Hiii!!! Welcome to my Masterlist!!

Last Update: 06/25/2023

All my works are SFW, but some may be NSFW. For those particular ones, I’ll have the warnings in place. So if you’re a minor, ( under the age of 18), please do not interact!! (MDNI) Here, you can access all of my stories. Please do not repost any of my works to any other site without my permission!! Other than that, Please enjoy!!! (Also if you want to be tagged, please let me know!!)

Requests: OPEN

Genres(I write for): Fluff/SFW, Angst, NSFW/Smut, Humor etc..

Fandoms: Avatar/Atwow, Spider-man ATSV, Harry Potter, MCU, BNHA, KNY, CSM Etc...

** All my characters are AGED-UP, please be advised**

Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan ~~ “Who’s the mighty warrior? C’mon, say it” ~

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Scorching Heat (NSFW/MDNI)~ 2.1k

Genre: NSFW/MDNI, Some fluff, Jealousy. (Two-Shot)

Y/n never bothers her mate with her heat cycles. How will she deal with her cycle when it comes early?

Lingering Sensations (NSFW/MDNI)~ 5.1k~

Genre: NSFW/MDNI, Fluff-ending, Insecure Neteyam. (Two-Shot)

Pt.2 of ‘Scorching Heat’

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I Wish I Knew ~ 5.9k~

Genre: ANGST, SFW, Unrequited love, Mutual Pinning, Romance. (One-Shot)

Neteyam realizes that falling in love with his best friend comes at a cost. A cost he is willing to pay as long as he can keep her by his side, as his best friend forever. But what will happen when he realizes that what he thought was one-sided, was actually mutual? That she actually loved him back?

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Sweet Boy ~1.4k~

Request By Anon

Genre: SMUT, NSFW/MDNI, DomReader, SubNeteyam. (Literally just smut with no story. Please read at your own discretion. Thank you) (One-Shot)

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Special ~2k~

Request By Anon

Genre: FLUFF, Teeny Tiny Angst, Cute Neteyam, Misunderstandings, Jealousy. (One-Shot)

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Precious Tsyeym ~10k~

Genre: Fluff, tiny bit of Angst, Insecure Reader, Misunderstandings, Jealously, Suggestions of smut, NSFW (only in the second part, which can be avoided entirely if you’re not comfortable!)

Y/n and Neteyam have newly mated before Eywa. Y/n couldn’t ask for anything better; she had a loving and devoting mate, her Tsa’hik duties have been going great and she finally felt like her life was perfect. But, Y/n can’t help but wonder why Neteyam hasn’t actually mated with her. Does he not find her attractive? Is it because she is untouched and Neteyam wants someone experienced? All these insecurities weigh her down as she watches his student cuddle up against him. (Two-Shot)

Pt.1 (SFW)

Pt.2 (NSFW/MDNI)

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Mine ~0.7k~

Genre: NSFW/MDNI, Pure Filth!! AGED-UP Characters. Smut with no plot. Read at your discretion. Exhibition/Voyeurism. PervLo’ak, PossessiveNeteyam. (Imagine)

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My Dearly Detested ~9.6k~

Genre: Romance, Angst, Enemies-to-Lovers Troupe, Rude Neteyam, Fluff?? Mentions of blood

Neteyam never liked Y/n. He hated the way she held herself, the way she accomplished everything with ease. It didn’t make sense why she excelled in places he lacked in. It just further grew the anger within him over time. But as the saying goes, ‘there is a fine line between love and hate’. Is Neteyam willing to cross that line?(Mini-Series, On-going)

Prologue, Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Final.

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Karyu ~3.3k~

Requested By Anon

Genre: Romance, FLUFF, Cuties in love. (One-Shot)

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Badass ~2.1k~

Requested By Anon

Genre: Romance, Fluff, fighting, Reader being a Badass. (One-Shot)

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Jealousy ~1.3k~

Requested By Anon

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Tiny Angst and Possessive behavior. (Scenario + Lo’ak)

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Nihona ~7k~

Genre: Angst, Mentions of death, Pregnancy, Romance, Fluff, Jealously, Forbidden Love Troupe, Step-Siblings, suggestive content!!, NSFW/MDNI (later on? Maybe not, depending on the response) All characters are AGED-UP.

Y/n, the daughter of Neytiri ‘s childhood is left with nothing after her mothers passing. After a sign by Ewya, Jake and Neytiri take her in and surround her with love and happiness. What will happen when Neteyam, who is tasked to look after his ‘sister’ falls deeper then he had intended? What will happen when Y/n starts feeling the same? (Neteyam x StepSisterReader/NOT RELATED BY BLOOD AT ALL, Reader isn't even ‘adopted’ like how Kiri is. Please keep that in mind and proceed with caution!!) (Three-shot, On-going)

Prologue, One, Two, Final.

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Tsongtsyìp ~0.9k~

Genre/Warnings: FLUFF

Just Avatar/Atwow characters reacting to the S/O having dimples. (Multiple Character Scenario)

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Breathtaking ~11.4k~

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Romance, Mentions of Violence, Some blood, Jealousy. Neteyam x HumanReader.

Y/n grew up with Spider. She played with him, fought with him, ate with him and slept with him. There is nothing they couldn’t do together….well, one thing. And that is leaving the base at any costs. Now, what will happen when Y/n does leave the base? Why had she been trapped in the base for so long? And why did a certain Na’vi take her breath away? (Three-shot?)

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Pfft, Me? Jealous? ~2.9k~

Requested By Anon (Could be read as Pt1.5 of ‘Breathtaking’)

Genre/Warnings: Fluff, Neteyam being a jealous cutie, Spider being oblivious, Lo'ak being…..Lo'ak. Neteyam x HumanReader.

Neteyam is always calm, collected and always thinks things through. He never lets anything slip his façade without thinking it over. So why is it he cannot control his emotions when he watches Spider get way to chummy with Y/n? (One-shot)

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Tease ~1.5k~

Requested By Anon

Genre/Warnings: NSFW/MDNI, Suggestive Content, Fingering (cum eating?), Exhibition/Public, Neteyam being a Tease, Frustrated Neteyam, Dirty talk, Degradation?? The nickname ‘Slut’ used like once? (One-shot)

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Lo'ak te Suli Tsyeyk'itan ~~ “Who do you think knocked her up?” ~~

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Quiet Love ~ 7.2k~

Genre: Miscommunication, Angst, Unrequited love, SFW, Romance, Misunderstandings, slow-burn, Fluff ending.

Y/n always felt as though she was nothing more then a sister to Lo’ak after the Sully’s took her in. Coincidentally, Lo’ak worries Y/n only sees him as a brother! Basically, two idiots in love as they force down their feelings for one another fearing rejection. (One-Shot)

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Close Call ~1.7k~

Genre: Fluff! Mentions of suggestive content near the end. (Imagine)

Summary: Lo’ak meets a aggressive Na’vi who tries to attack spider. All while stealing his heart in the process.

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Jealousy ~1.3k~

Requested by Anon

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Tiny Angst and Possessive behavior. (Scenario + Neteyam)

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Tsongtsyìp ~0.9k~

Genre/Warnings: FLUFF

Just Avatar/Atwow characters reacting to the S/O having dimples. (Multiple Character Scenario)

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Consequences ~COMING SOON~

Genre: Love-at-first-sight, some fluff, ANGST.

Lo’ak is a rebel, a troublemaker. And his mate to be always reminds him that he should be careful. That every action has consequences. And Lo’ak, learns that the hard way. (One-Shot)

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Jake Sully ~~ “That's right, you're mine.” ~~

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Tsongtsyìp ~0.9k~

Genre/Warnings: FLUFF

Just Avatar/Atwow characters reacting to the S/O having dimples. (Multiple Character Scenario)

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Ao’nung ~~ “If you want to live here, you'll have to ride.” ~

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Creepin’ ~2.1k~

Request by Anon

Genre/Warnings: NSFW/MDNI, Suggestive content, Mentions of drinking, PerAo’nung. (One-Shot)

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Tsongtsyìp ~0.9k~

Genre/Warnings: FLUFF

Just Avatar/Atwow characters reacting to the S/O having dimples. (Multiple Character Scenario)

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Unfeigned ~COMING SOON~

Spin-off of ‘I Wish I Knew’

Genre: Kind of Enemies-to-Lovers, Fluff, ANGST, Realization.

After the battle against the RDA, Y/n is afraid that she’ll lose her new home. She’s lost so much, feeling herself break upon realization the one she loves will never see her the same. Luckily for her, Ao’nung comforts her. He pieces her back together, mending her heart in the process. (One-Shot)

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Miguel O’hara ~~”I’m Miguel O’hara”~~

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Web Of Destiny ~2.1k~

Genre:Fluff, Angst, Enemies-to-Lovers Troupe, RudeMiguel, BubblyReader, Swearing, Hidden Sexual Tension, femReader, Pinning, Flirting.

Hobie and Gwen successfully apprehend a Mysteiro anomaly from Earth-618 with the help of that universes Spider-person. Amazed by her skills they decided to bring her back to Nueva York. Much to Miguel’s dismay.

Part One, Part Two,

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Web That You Weave ~COMMING SOON~

Genre: Sexual Tension, Masturbation, NSFW/MDNI, Oral (m receiving), Marking/Biting, Smut (p in v), some Fluff, Breeding?

After Jessica became impressed with Y/n’s skills when apprehending an anomaly from her universe, she is on a mission to recruit her. Unfortunately for her, Y/n is quite stubborn and firm on her decision. Which means Y/n needs more.....convincing.

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Multiple Characters

Nga Yawne Lu Oer 25.5k~

Genre: Fluff, Slow-Burn, Unrequited love, Love-Triangle/Square?, Angst, SFW, NSFW (like one chapter later on, MDNI), Romance.

(Neteyam x Reader, Lo’ak x Reader, Ao’nung x Reader)

Y/N, the twin sister of Tsireya and eldest daughter of Ronal and Tonowari is faced with new challenges and obstacles as the Sully’s arrive to Awa'atlu. Her feelings are put t the test as they fight for their lives and freedom against the RDA. (Series-Ongoing)

1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14,

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Avatar/Atwow Prompts/Incorrect Quotes

I saw some hilarious prompts and incorrect quotes that I couldn’t leave alone. I didn’t want to giggle at them all by my self so please enjoy!! The characters from avatar and atwow fit these scenarios perfectly!! There will be multiple ships, this is solely for comedic purposes! (Characters include: Y/n, Neteyam, Lo’ak, Kiri, Ao’nung, Tsireya, Roxto. Occasionally: Jake, Tuk, Neytiri etc..)

#1,#2,#3,#4,#5,#6,#7,#8,#9,#10,#11,#12,#13,#14,#15,#16,#17,#18,#19,#20,#21,#22,

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1K notes · View notes

seasidepierre · 1 year ago

Text

sunkissed face part 8 | charles leclerc

FORMULA ONE DRIVERS MASTERLIST

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8

summary: You’ve been in love with your best friend Harrison for quite a while now but when Tom, Harrison and Tuwaine go on a trip to Monaco for the F1 Grand Prix, you’re quick to tag along, even though it means spending time with Harrison’s girlfriend.

warnings: I’ve left them alone for quite a bit so they’re full of fluff.

words count: 6k

a/n: I’m sorry it took so much time, I can’t promise the next update will be quicker, I promise I love them to bits but I suck at sticking to one task. The “meeting your dad” little blurb I had made its way to this part, though I added a few bits and bobs around it, so you don’t have exactly the same thing. It made sense to have it there, I hope you don’t mind Xx

“I’ll see you in two weeks,” Charles whispered against your lips in the middle of a business lounge in the airport in Nice. “Just two little weeks and I’ll all yours.” “I know,” you sighed. “Two weeks is manageable, right?” “It totally is,” he smiled, raising the corners of your lips along with his. He sounded like he was trying to convince both you and himself. “We’ll barely notice them passing by. Two little weeks.”

He took a step back, keeping an arm around your hips, counting on his fingers and muttering the numbers in French underneath his breath.

“Quinze dodos. Fifteen sleeps,” he grinned. “You’re the dorkiest,” you laughed. “You love it.” “I kinda do,” you nodded.

You were far from saying those three little words. You weren’t sure you felt them quite yet, but you did love the dork side of Charles, like his looks didn’t quite match the child that was still trapped inside his soul, sometimes.

“Wait.. Fifteen?” you realised. “I could come on the Monday?” He sheepishly suggested, a blush slowly creeping on his neck. “That would be nice,” you whispered, resting your head on his chest. “My bed seems too big when you’re not there.” “I will come fix that issue, then,” he promised, with a kiss on your forehead. “You should go, you’re gonna miss your flight.” “Do I really have to go?” You whined, pushing your face deeper into his shirt. “I’m afraid you do..”

You didn’t say goodbye, when you left. You raised on your tippy toes, gave him a quick kiss, then waved before you had to say it. Because saying goodbye felt too harsh and too final. “See you later” could have worked, but it still meant leaving and you didn’t like it either. So you just waved and Charles waved back from the other side of the window. You were clad in the hoodie that you were supposed to give him back. Charles said it was yours, now, and you didn’t have to say thanks because your happy grin sufficed. During the weekend, he had worn it for as long as he could and you were pretty sure he did spray way too much perfume on it, just for the sake of sending you back home with something you’d be able to cling onto.

The AC in the plane was on full blast, you thought, as a shiver ran down your spine. The sun was no longer on your face and you couldn’t bask in Charles’ warmth anymore. You shook a little and slipped your hands in the pocket of the jumper, only to find a wrapped up candy from the hotel you just left. You had no idea where it came from, because you didn’t wear that hoodie much during the weekend, since Charles was the one sporting it the most. He must have hidden it for you to find, you realised, and you smiled at the attention.

Fifteen sleeps. Quinze dodos.

☀️

Those fifteen sleeps went by a blur. You went to work on a Monday morning and on the evening, Charles was sitting in the hall of your flat, waiting for you to come home. You opened the door to him without a word, grabbing his hand effortlessly, leading him in what he now knew to be your safe space. You didn’t eat dinner that evening, you just went straight to bed, peeled off each other’s clothes and kissed every parcel of skin you could find. You slept for a blissful ten hours, your head lodged in the crook of his shoulder and his nose resting on top of your skull, your legs intertwined just as tightly as your fingers. Charles knew you had work to do and you couldn’t just pretend that life didn’t exist outside of these walls. So he woke up a bit earlier than you did, cooked breakfast (or most likely, toasted bread and spread butter and jam on each piece of toast) and made tea in a pale yellow mug that had small golden stars on it, because it looked cute and he instantly liked it. He knew that you liked your tea with only one cube of brown sugar and that your favourite tea was the one berry-flavoured. You didn’t have a tray for his very romantic idea of a breakfast in bed, but you did have a large pan that worked wonder in bringing everything to you. That morning, you got woken up by hot tea vapours and small kisses along your jaw, only matched in their softness by the fingers that sneaked between the sheets to find your bare hip.

Charles will later say that you woke up with a small on your face and that it was all he could hope for. You ate in silence, because there was nothing you could say to explain how full your heart felt that morning and Charles seemed to be in the same state of mind. He took you to the shower, washed your hair, lathered your body in foam and couldn’t help himself to a lazy morning shower sex, just because he could and just because he wanted to make you happy. Then he redid the whole foam on the body, because it felt like the right thing to do.

You left for work before you could change your mind, with a kiss and, finally, his first words since he arrived in your building being “Have a nice day, work well and come back fast.” You’d argue you tried your best to have the shortest day at the office you could have. He’d argue that the day felt endlessly long.

On the evening, you ate in bed after Charles jumped on you the second you were home, naked but blissful, in a post orgasm state that rivalled the feeling they must be experiencing in heaven.

“Do you think your dad will like me?” Charles whispered, the words dying between your own lips. “He’s gonna love you,” you reassured him, eyes closed, head on the pillow, fighting to stay awake. “I’m kinda nervous.” “You shouldn’t be,” you breathed out before finally succumbing to sleep.

☀️

Tom called during the week, to ask how you were doing and if you were going to Silverstone. You said you were and that you were happy.

“Lover boy in London?” He laughed. “He is,” You smiled softly at the phone. “What is he doing during the day? Since you’re at work, you know..” “I actually have no idea. He’s hanging out at the flat. He’s resting. I think he had a debrief on the phone with the team, yesterday.” “Do you think I could take him out for lunch?” “I dunno,” you shrugged. “Call him, ask him yourself. But why do you want to have a date with him?” “I dunno,” he repeated. “To chat, I guess.” “Tom, I don’t have an older brother and you don’t need to fill that role,” you groaned. “I mean, I kinda do, actually.” “No you don’t,” you argued. “I’m happy. He’s good to me, Tommy.” “I know. But the last time I saw you in love, you ended up in tears more than I could ever handle it once again.”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see nor hear it. Tom had seen you being miserably in love with Harrison for longer than you’d realise. He knew before you admitted it, actually. He had dried your tears too many times to forget about it. He had supported you through everything, without a word. And it was Harrison, it was both your best friend. Now this was a guy he didn’t really know, beyond the occasional hangouts or texts, and while he’d agree that Charles seemed to be a good guy, he wanted to make sure. You couldn’t quite deny him that one.

“You have his Instagram. Ask him yourself.” “I will.”

On the evening you came back home, Tom was sitting in the flat, with a PlayStation that you knew from his living room. He had taken everything apart just to bring it to your place and bags of takeout were sitting on the kitchen counters.

“Hi boys,” You smiled.

They barely mumbled their hellos back to you, engrossed in a game of Fifa that you couldn’t begin to understand. You smiled at your favourite boys together, noticing the similarities and the differences in just a glance. Tom was obviously shorter but he seemed broader, while Charles was slimmer and taller. Both had short dark hair, both held kindness in their eyes and both would follow you to the end of the Earth if it meant having you happy. Your heart warmed at the realisation that you were so incredibly lucky to be surrounded by such great souls.

You made dinner, a simple dish of pasta because Charles was still on a diet and Andrea would have his head on a pike if he went for anything that would mess it all up. Tom stayed for dinner, eating with you two, talking about your day and everything in your lives. Charles told him everything he could about F1. Tom told him everything he could about Marvel movies. Both revealed secrets they shouldn’t have but promised to never peep a word about it. They joked at your expense sometimes, though Charles was quick to drape your hand with his after, as if he needed to apologise for the teasing and reassure you that he didn’t truly mean it.

“You got a good one,” Tom said before he left. “It didn’t feel like your place anymore,” he added. “He fits in there perfectly,” he concluded, before dropping a kiss on your cheek and leaving in the dusk of the night, his PlayStation underneath his arm. “Do you think Tom will be at Silverstone?” Charles asked. “I think so, why?” “He ruined me at Fifa, I need a revenge,” he shrugged.

You did get a good one, you grinned.

☀️

Soon enough it was Thursday and Charles had to leave for his work, emptying your flat from his infectious smile and smell, again. But that was okay, because you had managed to score a Friday off and you would be joining him at the track just the day after. Un dodo. Just one sleep.

Andrea was kind enough to fetch you from the garage when you arrived on the Friday morning and Charles was already in a briefing. You met with one of the most important people in Charles’ life and Andrea was nothing but nice. He spoke in an even more broken English than Charles, thick with his Italian accent, but he was funny and spoke highly of Charles, so you automatically liked him. He told you Charles had insisted that you were to be in his driver’s room when he’d finally get out of his meet so you listened to Andrea’s stories for about an hour before Charles came barging in the room like a mad man. You were in his arms before you could say hi and before Andrea could even react.

“If only your reflexes could be quick like that all the time,” Andrea muttered.

That made you laugh and Charles grinned in return, happy to hear that sound again, as if you had been separated for more than 24 hours. You had lunch with Charles and Andrea, you met a good part of Charles’ team, some of them remembering you from the French GP, but this time you were properly introduced. The “girlfriend” label was quite already attached to the nape of your neck, but you could feel it looming above your head and for the first time, you didn’t suffocate with the idea of belonging to anybody else than Harrison. You were thrilled by the prospect, actually.

The Friday went by slowly and you sat in the garage with a pair of headphones, learning as much as you could and basking in the fumes of oil, rubber and car exhaust. The air was thick with warmth and mechanical particles, but you liked being there. Andrea was entertaining and you couldn’t ask for more. On the evening, the qualifications for the Sprint race happened and you spent the whole session crossing your fingers. Charles ended up P4, which wasn’t amazing, but it also meant that he could skip the top 3 interviews and be back to you quicker. He had to find positives everywhere.

The Saturday was another deal and while you wished your dad could be there, you knew he would still have the time of his life on the Sunday. With such short notice, he couldn’t manage to get out of work but you promised you’d have an extraordinary Sunday, which Charles had been starting to plan.

Charles was wearing his red pants when you walked in the paddock. You had taken a taxi from the hotel, because Charles let you sleep and because you had asked for it, the night prior. You knew media and fans would be waiting for Charles to arrive on the track and you didn’t want to attract attention while you still didn’t quite know what you were. So you met with Andrea again, who brought you to the garage, where Charles was settling the last details before the second free practice session. He kissed you before he went to drive and you tapped gently on his helmet, knocking lightly on it.

“What was it for?” He chuckled. “Knocking on wood. Good luck out there, be fast but be careful.”

It must have been a lucky charm because he ended the session P2, with not only half a second that separated him from Max Verstappen, who you knew to be bloody good. For the Sprint Race, you couldn’t do it and it brought Charles back to the P4 spot, just as he had been before the race. Nothing lost, but nothing gained either. Charles was frustrated. Relieved that he wasn’t starting lower on the grid, but frustrated that he couldn’t grab a point, when he was just three seconds behind Valtteri Bottas.

That night, Charles went to the gym and you sat on the floor, watching a movie on your phone while Andrea was shouting in Italian words that you couldn’t even start to comprehend. You watched the coat of sweat on Charles’ forehead turn into sweat stains on his shirt and after an hour, when his breath was so short he sounded like he was about to pass out, you got your man back and helped him in the shower because his arms were so tired from lifting weights, he couldn’t even reach his hair. So you scrubbed every bit of his body that you could and let him turn putty in your hands, groaning when you pressed the palms of your hands in the knots on his shoulder blades, as you tried to relieve the tension.

That night, you didn’t even try anything funny, because Charles needed to rest and because Andrea had said “You sleep tonight, Lover Boy, you hear me?” and you were kinda scared that he would know, one way or another. You liked Andrea, but not to the point of having him know your sexual activity. So you went to bed and slipped beneath the covers after Charles, because you still had a few minutes to watch on your movie and you wanted to know the end. When you finally made it to the hotel bed, Charles was asleep face first in your pillow, the duvet low on his back and you could see the small dimples on each side of his lower spine. You slid behind him, kissed each shoulder blade and slipped your arms around his stomach, spooning him.

“This is the other way around, normally,” he mumbled, sleepily. “Do you want to turn around?”

A small silence followed by a sleepy breath was all you needed to know that you wouldn’t move one bit.

“I like it when you hold me,” he admitted.

You never got to tell him that you liked holding him more than he liked you holding him. He was already asleep when you came to that conclusion.

☀️

You had no idea how you managed to keep the secret for that long, but damn it did feel glorious to watch your dad’s face crumble as you presented him with a paddock pass with his name and face on it. The lanyard was neon green, branded with the F1 logo and as you passed it around his neck, you were almost certain that tears were welling up in his eyes.

And he wasn’t even close to the biggest surprise yet.

When Charles invited you to Silverstone, you were ecstatic to say the least. You had already planned to go but couldn’t have found cheap tickets and were on the lookout for resellers who might sell their tickets back. You only needed two, one for you and one for your dad, but you only had managed to almost get scammed in the process. So when Charles offered for you to be his guest, you had one condition and one only: you and your dad were a package deal. Charles was so happy to comply, it filled your heart with warmth and happiness. The fact that he was adamant that you would only come with your dad was absolutely adorable and even more so when he learned that you hadn’t told him anything about the fact that you were seeing each other. Dating? Was he your boyfriend? He had no idea and to be honest, he wasn’t as pressed about it either. He was just glad to spend time with you, whether it was to kiss you and cuddle with you or just to talk. If you wanted him to be your boyfriend, he would gladly be so. If you wanted to introduce him to your dad as just a friend, he would smile and shake his hand either way. This wasn’t time for the big debates on whether or not you were his girlfriend. And you were thankful for that.

“How the hell are we in the paddock?” Your dad kept muttering, walking next to you. “I told you, I got those passes through someone I know,” you grinned. “Do I have to send a gift basket to Tom again?” Your dad rolled his eyes. “I love this kid to death but he has to stop with the gifts.” “It’s not Tom,” you giggled. “But you’re gonna like him either way.” “Oh so it’s a “he”, then,” your dad teased. “Stop digging for intel, you’re gonna know soon anyway,” you laughed.

The more you walked through the paddock, the faster your heart beat. You hadn’t seen Charles in almost a month, ever since you left from the French GP with an usual hole in your chest, shaped like your favorite monégasque. You had texted and called, of course, and you had watched every bit of content you could find to feel closer to him but nothing would ever replace the feeling of his arms around your waist and of his lips on the crook of your neck. You couldn’t wait to get him back.

The walk in the paddock still felt foreign and if it wasn’t for the couple of familiar faces that you crossed path with, you could have felt terribly out of place. But you kept on walking, waving back at Pierre who you properly met about a month ago and who had followed you on Instagram to chat, in the following days of your meeting.

Next to you, your dad gasped at your familiarity with the driver, making you stop wondering where your fangirl tendency could have come from. Your dad was a fangirl. There was no way you didn’t inherit those genes from him. There was no way you would be able to contain your giggles either when he’d finally understand that you were headed to the Ferrari garage.

“I’m not sure we’re supposed to be going to this part of the paddock”, your dad mumbled, a bit embarrassed and turning shier by the second. “I’m certain we are,” you teased back, dragging him by the arm until you crossed the row of trucks with the different teams’ logos on them. “Holy shit, this is the actual pitlane,” your dad almost sobbed. “This is incredible. How the heck am I here?” “Wait until you see where we’re gonna watch the race,” you grinned mischievously.

Charles had been the best sport you could find. He knew how much you owed your dad for your love of Formula One and since it was his first time meeting him, he wanted to impress. He had scored you two seats inside the garage, so you could follow the race on the different screens and watch the pit stops happen in real time. You would be basking in the racing vibes of the Scuderia and he had already planned to shower you with enough merch to last a lifetime. Your dad was about to combust and he wanted to make sure of it. Selfishly, he also wanted to make a good first impression. Not that he was trying to buy your dad, but if he was.. The way to your dad’s heart was about to be easier than ever expected…

“Oh Lord, can we walk up to the Ferrari garage? Is that allowed? Or are we gonna get booted out of here?” “Sure, let’s walk to the Ferrari garage,” you laughed. “Maybe.. Maybe not so close. I don’t want to get shooed away. Stop- What the bloody hell are you doing? You can’t just walk into a garage!! Oh my Lord, I raised a complete nutcase,” your dad spilled out so fast it was actually comical. “Dad, welcome to the Ferrari garage,” You grinned, opening an arm to welcome him in, as if you had any say over who’s allowed in and who isn’t.

You didn’t have much time before you could warn him about what happened. One second you were trying not to explode in tears of laughter in front of his bewildered face and the next, a head was nested in the little space between your shoulder and your neck. You raised a gentle hand, resting it in the messy hair that you could feel tickling your skin and smiled at the familiar feeling of Charles hugging you from behind. He dropped a gentle kiss on your skin, squeezing your sides in his grabby hands and immediately straightened back up to face your father, whose mouth was shaped as a perfect O and who couldn’t quite believe his eyes.

“Dad, I want you to meet Charles,” you introduced them both. “Charles, this is my dad, possibly your biggest fan,” You giggled. “It’s an honor to meet you, Sir,” Charles started, presenting a hand to your dad. “I heard I was to thank you for raising a Ferrari fan as a daughter. I must say I’m super grateful for that, meeting your daughter has been a highlight of my year.” “Shut. Up,” Your dad spat. “You know Charles Leclerc?!” He whisper-yelled at you. “You know Charles Leclerc and you didn’t tell me anything?!” “Dad, he can hear you,” you laughed. “Yes, I know Charles.” “Was he the one whose hand I could see on that car in Monaco? Were you that hand?!” He finally addressed Charles, who was still waiting to shake his hand. “I’m quite sure I was,” Charles blushed, amused. “Your daughter’s been a delight to have around in Monaco.” “Oh my God, this is the best day of my life, I need to sit down,” your dad started to hyperventilate. “She’s hanging out with a Ferrari driver and she doesn’t bloody tell me. This is the best thing in my life right now,” he ranted. “Dad, Charles is still waiting to shake your hand,” you smiled. “Oh yeah, sorry Son, yeah, ahem, big fan,” your dad blushed (blushed!!), finally greeting Charles. “Phenomenal drive. Such bad luck in Monaco. My my. Love what you’re doing. You’re the best. Hope you win today.” “That’s the goal, I’ll do my best. In the meantime, you’re welcome to watch the race from here. There’s a seat with your name on it. Well, not quite literally, but you know what I mean. I also got you a pair of headphones so you could listen to my radio, in case you’re interested in that. It protects the ears from the loud noises, too.” “Oh man, I think I’m gonna fall in love with you,” your father almost cried, before launching himself to the chair waiting for him like he had fire underneath his ass. “You think I made a good impression?” Charles almost grimaced. “I think he already loves you very much,” you replied, amused. “You made his entire year. Thank you for everything, it means the world to me to have him experience such a thing.” “Then it means the world to me too. Anything for you,” he smiled. “Am I allowed to kiss you or is that tempting my luck too much?” He cringed. “You are absolutely 100% allowed to kiss me,” you smiled, rising to your tippy toes to kiss him yourself. “He’s deep into a screen, watching the replays of your onboard anyway.” “I’m glad he likes me,” Charles sighed, relieved. “What can I say? Must be a family thing,” you joked, kissing him again.

Your dad was already engrossed in the screens in front of him. He looked just as home as you were, clad in a Ferrari shirt that he had chosen that morning without knowing where he’d be. You were wearing one of Charles’ shirt, which you were grateful that your father had not really brought to attention, but you knew your friends who were currently marching down the paddock would. You’d see them later, probably after the race, you thought, but that was without counting on Charles who had managed to outdo himself and score two passes for the grid walk, for you and your dad. The fact that your father’s eyes gleamed with unshed tears as he took Charles in his arms was enough to bring tears to yours, silently thanking Charles, even though he couldn’t see your mouth beneath the face mask you still had to sport. Charles nodded above your dad’s shoulder and you thought, just for a minute, that you couldn’t be happier that your heart stopped being stubborn and chose to move on with Charles. He wasn’t just a great rebound, he was everything you could hope and wish for. The fact that he went ahead and tried to make this even more magical for your dad was all the proof you needed that you were in for the long term. The grid was busy as ever, with celebrities looking either ecstatic or completely bored. You almost stumbled onto Will.I.Am and barely had time to apologise before an engineer pushed you to the side. With a bit of a struggle, you made your way around the cars, taking pictures of your dad in front of each one of them, just because you didn’t know when you’d be able to do that again and because he deserved every picture he could get. You even got one of him and Charles chatting for a second before Charles had to put on his helmet again. To say your father was impressed would be an understatement, but you couldn’t ignore the grin that appeared on his mouth just like on the Cheshire Cat’s when Charles gently grabbed your forearm and dropped his helmeted head to your level, without a word. You frowned for a second, then remembered your little moment the day before. With a giggle, you knocked twice on the helmet, muttering “Knocking on wood, be fast but be careful”, which got him smiling, if you trusted the corners of his eyes through the open visor.

“So you and Charles, huh?” Your dad teased. “Yeah. It’s new, but he’s good to me, Dad.” “I can see that. The fact that he went above and beyond for your old fart of a father was enough for me to see that.” “He truly did all of that, huh?” “He did. This is the best day of my life,” your dad grinned. “Now, let’s enjoy the racing and push behind our guy to win.”

Our guy. That sounded just about right.

☀️

To say that your dad was fuming wouldn’t even bring justice to the state he was in. When Lewis Hamilton passed him, you believed he was going to go to the engineers and push all the buttons to release an extra boost of power himself. But there was nothing he could have done and nothing else to do but watch as Charles lost the lead of a race that you truly believed he could have won and that would have made your father so happy it would have been an actual joke. When Charles crossed the line second, your father slapped his cap on the railing in front of you and you sighed with frustration. You knew you were supposed to be happy for a podium, but he had been so close to win in front of you, in front of your dad, that you couldn’t help but be a bit sad for him.

Andrea was the one who pushed you to the bottom of the podium with your dad in tow. You wouldn’t be close to the parc fermé barriers but you would be there for the podium, at least, and Andrea promised he would get you two as close as possible to both the podium, then the doors, so you could get back to Charles for a couple of minutes before he’d have to go through the whole media circus again. You kind of wished they didn’t have to do that every time, just so you could cosy up with him for more than a handful of seconds before he’d be whisked away somewhere else. In your haste, you checked your phone to see Tom had texted both you and Charles to congratulate him on his podium.

Quick text to say congrats! You should have won today, but silverware is still silverware, right? Sending this to your girl as well, I know you won’t have your phone on you

You smiled at the text, sporting a video of Tom, his brothers and Tuwaine, cheering for Charles from the top of the paddock club, where people looked at them like they were proper nutcases. Tom had said “your girl” and you had enjoyed the sound of that. It was the third time already that you realised that being linked to Charles didn’t feel like such a bad thing. You had been really cautious with Tom, because he was your best friend and you didn’t want to cause any type of prejudice or to create drama when there wasn’t drama to begin with, but with Charles, you truly didn’t care. Let there be drama. Let there be chatter. That wouldn’t change the fact that you liked the guy and that the feeling was mutual.

Standing proud but slightly defeated on the second step of the podium, Charles scanned the crowd, hoping to discern the right Ferrari polo that belonged to your shoulders. You thought he would never be able to, surely, when the crowd was that compact and when more than half of the garage was standing there, but the smile he sent your way felt personal and you took it for granted, arrogance be damned. Your dad was clapping and yelling on your side when the presenter introduced Charles Leclerc, second on the podium, like the frustration of seeing him being somewhat robbed of a victory had been wiped for pure joy. You jumped up and down when he raised the trophy in the air and you watched him pour sparkling wine all over himself and the rest of the podium. There wasn’t much you could have done more, but Andrea seemed to be happy about your joy and before you could properly bask in the vibes of it, he was dragging you and your dad away so you could sneak into the right hallway.

Charles was barely out of the door that you were running to him, hanging yourself at his neck and hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

“Have a nice evening, bro,” a voice resonated behind you and you didn’t even comprehend that it was Lewis Hamilton, too busy finding your man back and smelling the melted rubber clinging on his skin. “Did you have a nice day?” Charles whispered. “It was amazing,” you whispered back. ��Thanks for everything. Dad was over the moon.” “I’m happy then. Let me go check with him what he wants to do for a second?”

You begrudgingly let him go, watching your dad take him in his arms and slapping him on the back, in a proper men’s hug. You smiled at the vision of them two, walking away with arms on the shoulders or just above the waist, Charles having let the trophy in the trusted hands of your father for just a bit.

“I wish you could have won. You deserved it,” your dad muttered. “I’ll win somewhere else,” Charles shrugged. “Yeah, but I may not be there to cheer for that one.” “I’ll make sure to have someone facetime you, then,” he smiled. “Thank you for having been here today and for pushing behind me. It was nice to meet you that way.”

Your dad nodded and before you could catch up with them, they were out of earshot. You could only see their heads bobbing up and down, the smiles on their mouths and the chuckles rumbling in their chests. Your dad kept patting Charles on the chest, until they turned serious enough that Charles nodded solemnly, before he got engulfed in your father’s embrace once again.

“What did my dad tell you, when we left that building after podium?” You asked, when your head was resting on Charles’ chest in the hotel room bed, after Charles had closed the door of the taxi on him and waved him goodbye. “We talked about you,” he confirmed. “Don’t worry. He didn’t tell me any secret.” “Did he try to scare you off?” “No. But that’s between me and him,” he kissed your forehead. “Okay,” you breathed out.

After your father had gone, you stayed in the Ferrari hospitality, enjoying a cup of tea and helping yourself to not one but three scones, reading stuff on your phone and scrolling down Instagram. You texted a bit with Tom, apologising for not having been able to catch up with them all during the day, to which he replied he understood and asked how the meeting between Charles and your dad went. Charles came out of the briefing room at almost 7pm, with a tired air on his face and yawning like a toddler. You smiled at his ruffled hair and grabbed your bag before joining him and Andrea to jump into a car appointed by Ferrari to drive back to the hotel. You hadn’t really thought about grabbing his hand on the walk over and he had happily swung your intertwined hands between the two of you, throwing back the image of two children in love in the school’s playground. You didn’t care if anybody was seeing you. You didn’t care if the chatter was going to go around the paddock, if tea would be “spilled”. All you cared about was the little rough patch between his thumb and his index finger and how it was scratching the skin between your own thumb and index finger.

“Was it okay that I took your hand when we left?” You timidly asked. “It was perfect,” Charles sighed, sleepily.

You closed your eyes, letting your eyelashes rest on Charles’ jaw.

“Goodnight, girlfriend,” Charles murmured. “Goodnight, boyfriend.”

You didn’t need to talk about it. You didn’t need to question it. The decision had been made a few days ago, you realised, and you had both made it without telling the other. You met each other midway, and it was perfect as it was.

Your boyfriend was now happily sleeping at your side, blissful and a heart full of fondness for you, only matched by the one you held in your heart for him.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8

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dancinglikebutterflywings · 2 months ago

Text

Not Deat Yet | Part 04

-> Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x Medium-Fem!Reader

-> Synopsis: After a strange encounter, Jeonghan wakes up outside of his body. The only person who can see him is Y/N, a woman with a gift (or curse as she would call it) who is able to see and communicate with the deceased. But Jeonghan isn't dead... not yet anyway.

-> Warnings: Paranormal au. This is a work of fiction and in no way does it represent the guys or their families. Jeonghan's birthday part is a little cheesy. This whole part may be a little cheesy.

-> Word Count: 2,887

-> Taglist: Open until series is completed. Leave a comment on the masterlist post, send an ask or fill out the Tag List Form.

Not Dead Yet Masterlist | Jeonghan Masterlist | SVT Masterlist

“So, you want to tell me about what just happened?” he asks as they get into the car and he starts driving.

“Can you drop me off at the hospital?” she asks, pulling her phone out of her pocket. She goes into social media and starts searching for Yoon Jeonghan, her heart pounding with each passing second.

Jihoon raises an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by her request. “The hospital? What’s going on?” he questions her. “Is this a ghost thing?”

“I think so,” she says as she scrolls through her feed, finding anything she can on Jeonghan. "Why of all surnames did he have to say Yoon?" she mumbles to herself and quickly finds what she's looking for. Her heart sinks as she reads the latest updates from his family, informing those he’s closest to that the doctors have found nothing and that there’s no explanation for why he should be in a coma. Looking at his profile, something catches her eye. It’s a date. His date of birth. “It’s his birthday tomorrow,” she says, sympathy for the man filling her body again.

“Who’s birthday?” Jihoon asks, reminding her that he’s still in the car with her.

“Yoon Jeonghan,” she tells him.

“Who’s Yoon Jeonghan?” Jihoon says, quickly glancing at her and then back at the road. He was use to her erratic behaviour when it comes to the ghosts but something tells him this time is different. “And why does he have you all flustered like this?” When she doesn’t answer him, he does a double take as their earlier conversation comes back to him. “Omo, have you actually fallen in love with a ghost?”

This gets her attention. She looks up from her phone, glaring at him, slightly offended by his accusation. “We’ve already had this conversation. Jeonghan’s a new ghost but I don’t actually think he’s a ghost,” she tells him, only causing Jihoon confusion. “It’s complicated. I’ll try and explain it later,” she continues as she turns her attention back to her phone. This time she pulls up a contact in her list and quickly sends them a message asking if he’s free tomorrow. He quickly replies letting her know he has time free in the early evening. Putting her phone to sleep, she looks up spotting a connivence store. “You can drop me here,” she tells Jihoon, who pulls to the side of the road.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice filled with concern.

She nods, reaching for the door handle. “I’ll be fine.”

“Call me if you need me to come get you,” he tells her as she leaves the car. He winds down the window as she closes the door.

“You know I will,” she says leaning back into the car. “I haven’t said it yet, but thank you for tonight. I really don’t know what I would do without you Jihoonie,” she says, smiling at him truly grateful for his friendship.

“Crash and burn, that’s what you’d do without me,” he smiles back at her, his concern never leaving his eyes.

“Drive safe, okay?” she tells him. “The roads are still wet from the rain and I can’t have you becoming a ghost and making me fall in love with you just to prove your theory right.”

“You already love me so I don’t think that’ll work,” he teases her. “Now get out of here, I have a bed I need to get back to.”

“Okay, bossy,” she chuckles. “Wooahae,” she says curving her hand in half a heart shape against her cheek and steps back from the car. He returns her gesture before he drives off to go back home.

As she stands on the footpath she looks up and down the street to find it surprisingly empty. Not letting it bother her, it not being the strangest thing she’s seen all day, she walks inside the store only to walk out a few minutes later with three things in her bag. She then makes her way to the hospital, not worried that visiting hours ended hours ago. Instead, her mind drifts back to everything that’s happened since she stopped ignoring Jeonghan’s presence. “Aish, I should have kept pretending I didn’t see him.”

It doesn’t take her long to get to the hospital and as soon as she arrives, she’s confronted by the elderly woman from earlier in the day. With less people around, she’s more at ease with interacting with the ghost but still vigilant in case anyone does see her.

“Give me an hour and then we can talk,” she tells the woman before she can say anything, “Meet me over by that tree,” she points towards a tree just outside, “I promise I’ll listen to whatever it is you have to say.”

The old woman nods, appearing pleased at the prospect of finally being heard, before vanishing.

With her mind now focused, Y/N continued her search for Jeonghan. She started at the intensive care unit, her heart racing as she approaches the glass doors and looks inside. To her dismay, his spot was vacant, the bed neatly made and devoid of any signs that he was there. She steps back, her mind racing with possibilities. Had something happened? Has he been moved?

Taking a moment to collect herself, Y/N turns on her heel and heads toward the nurse’s station, her footsteps echoing in the hallway. As she approaches the nurse's station she finds Sara, a nurse that she’s become good friends with, organizing charts, her brow furrowed in concentration.

“Eonni,” Y/N says, her voice trembling slightly as she gets the slightly older woman’s attention.

“What are you doing here?” Sara asks her, not all to surprise to see her at the hospital past visiting hours. She often comes at night, so much so that the night staff don’t question it. Even the higher ups know her well enough to let it slide. She doesn’t cause any trouble, sitting with those that are alone and have no one to be with them in their final moments.

“I’m looking for Yoon Jeonghan. He was in the ICU, but his bed is empty. Is he okay?” she asks.

“Yoon Jeonghan? He was moved to a more private room a few floors up,” Sara informs her. “Is he a friend of yours?”

“You could say that,” she nods. “What room is he in?”

“I want to help you, Y/N, but I’m unsure if I can do anything,” she says looking at her sadly. “We have a new member on the board and he’s quite strict. I don’t want to get into trouble. You’ll have to come back during visiting hours.”

“It’s just, it’s his birthday tomorrow and between everything I have going on, I won’t be able to see him,” she explains, trying to tug at the nurse's heart strings all while thinking that she’s getting too good at this manipulation tactic. Her voice trembles slightly as she continues, “I just want to be there for him, even if it’s just for a moment. He means so much to me.”

“I understand,” Sara replies gently, her tone shifting to one of empathy. “But-”

“Wow, you’re really good at that,” Jeonghan interrupts, making Y/N almost jump out of her skin.

“Jesus Christ!” she shouts, scaring Sara. "I'm sorry, I just saw a spider. Hate those things," she pretends to shudder. "And you're right, I should come back tomorrow. You make time for those you care about, right?" she rambles as she heads towards the door. "Right, well, maybe I'll see you tomorrow," she finishes as she ducks back through the doors to the floor. She turns to face Jeonghan who followed her into the empty corridor. "What the hell was that?"

Jeonghan leaned against the wall, arms crossed, a bemused smile playing on his lips and his eyes sparkling with mischief. “You were laying it on pretty thick back there, weren’t you?” he teases. “You really had that nurse eating out of the palm of your hand. I’m pretty sure she would’ve eventually caved in.”

“How can someone look like an angel and be a complete menace at the same time?” she groans in frustration.

“Follow me,” he says, taking the insult as a compliment. It wasn’t the first time he’s heard someone describe him in that way and it certainly won’t be the last.

“You really need to stop telling me what to do,” she shot back, but she follows behind him, careful not to be noticed. “I could easily go back to ignoring you. Today was going well until you caught me off guard.”

“Then why are you here?” he asked, turning to face her with a curious look.

“I honestly don’t know,” she admitted. “I guess I’m just… intrigued by your whole situation. I’ve never seen coma patients in limbo before. I don’t encounter the dead until they’re actually, ya know, dead,” she explained, omitting the strange coincidences that had followed her since their encounter this afternoon — the mysterious man at the bus stop, the concept of best friend's new song, and her brother mentioning Yoon as a surname for his fake girlfriend being at the top of the list.

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, his playful making its way on to his handsome face. He slants his head, his long dark hair falling slightly over his face, somehow giving him an even more angelic look as his deep brown eyes gaze into hers with an intensity she couldn't quite explain. “So, I’m like a puzzle and you're trying to put all the pieces together but you're missing a few so you need to find them?”

It took her a moment to process his words, finding herself lost in his captivating eyes. "I... I..." she stammers finding her words. "I wouldn't call you a puzzle but more of mystery that, despite knowing that I probably shouldn't, makes me want to look further into it."

“When you find those missing pieces, let me know because I know about as much as you do,” he tells her and turns to face the door they’re standing in front of. “I’m in there,” he says. Looking at her again, he sees she’s looking apprehensive. “You don’t have to worry about being caught.”

“You’re alone?” she asks as she opens the door and enters his room.

He follows behind her. “It’s just the nurses and doctors when they make their rounds,” he tells her. “It’s complicated with my family,” he says when she goes to ask about his family.

“So, you’ll be alone tomorrow,” she says feeling a ping of sadness as she approaches the bed his body is laying in, looking like a sleeping angel. “On your birthday.”

“It’s actually today,” He smirks as he moves to stand on the other side of the bed and points to the clock on the wall.

She looks at the clock and sees its after midnight.

“How do you know it’s my birthday? Did you look up my socials?” he questions, teasing her. “You must have been thinking about me.”

“You know what? Just forget I was here,” she says with a frown, turning to exit his room.

“Wait, I’m sorry,” he quickly says, stepping in front of her to block her path, even though she could easily walk right past him.

She stops and looks up at him, her resolve wavering as she meets his gaze. “I didn’t just come because I’m curious. I also came because I got the feeling you’d be alone. No one living, dead or in a coma should spend their birthday alone.”

He studies her for a moment, the playful spark in his eyes softening into something more serious, more contemplative. “You seem to be going to a lot of effort for a ghost you don’t even know,” he replies, a hint of admiration creeping into his tone.

“You’d be surprised at the lengths I’ll go for a ghost I don’t know,” she replies, setting the bag she’s carrying down on the table. Opening the bag, she pulls out the three objects she bought at the store – A cupcake, a pack of candles and a lighter. “This is mild compared to what I’ve done,” she says opening the pack of candles and the container the cupcake is in. She places a candle in the cupcake and lights it before turning to face him, offering the cupcake to him.

"You didn't have to do this," he says looking from her to the cupcake and to her again. "It's not like I can blow out a candle, let alone eat the cupcake."

"It's the thought, right?" she asks. He nods causing her to smile. "Make a wish and I'll blow it out for you."

"I wish I was back in my body," he says aloud, his voice taking on a more sarcastic tone and looks at her expectantly.

"You're not-," she stops herself and says, "Never mind." She blows out the candle on the cupcake before removing it. “I know someone who might be able to give us some answers about what’s going on,” she informs him, placing the cupcake back in its box.

“Why didn’t you mention that sooner?” he replies.

“I wasn’t sure if I was going to tell you until after I talk to him,” she admits. “I don’t want to get your hopes up in case he doesn’t know anything.”

“What is he? Some spiritual guru?” Is he in contact with the Gods?” he questions her, a little too sarcastically for her liking.

“I don’t know about the God thing but he’s like a spiritual advisor of some sort,” she says walking over to the chair beside the bed and takes a seat. “His eomma helped me out when I developed my gift. He’s been trained in this stuff since birth,” she continues leaning back in the chair. “He knows things that could possibly help you.”

He studies her for a moment as he processes her words. “And you trust him?”

“He’s got me this far,” she nods. “I just need you to tell me everything that happened so I can relay it back to him.”

“I already told you what happened,” he sighs looking out the window, the lights from the buildings below illuminating the night sky. “Some weird guy snapped his fingers and I woke up like this.”

“What did the weird guy look like?” she asks, standing up from the chair again. She walks back over to the table where her stuff is and pulls out a small notepad and I pencil.

“You really carry a notepad around with you?” he asks catching her reflection in the window.

“It comes in handy when talking to ghosts,” she replies flipping to an empty page. “Now, the weird guy. What do you remember about him?”

“He has sharp features, kinda like a cat,” he says as he begins to describe the man.

Y/N writes down all the words he uses to describe the man, her pen scratching against the paper, but she stops when he mentions the man’s attire. “A top hat?” she interjects, wanting to make sure she heard him correctly.

“A top hat,” he confirms with a nod, his expression serious. He then turns to her, his eyes searching hers. “I’m not sure why I’m describing him. I could have just said you’ve seen him too.”

“I have?” she asks, puzzled, her mind racing as she tries to remember if she had encountered anyone like he described. The details swirl in her mind, but nothing seems to fit. Suddenly, it clicks, and her eyes widen in realization. “The man at the bus stop?”

“The one who gave you the umbrella,” he replies, affirming that it’s the same person.

“Okay did he say anything to you?” she asks, remembering what the man had said to her, about how she should be worried for him.

“Just that he’s been watching me and was there to give me a warning,” he says recalling what had been said. “I told him I had plans and he said the only plans I have are with the Gods.”

“You must have really pissed them off,” she remarks, her voice barely above a whisper. The thought slips out before she can catch it, and she doesn’t it until Jeonghan growls loudly.

“I haven’t done anything!” he protests, his eyes wide with a mix of disbelief and frustration. “I don’t know what I could have done for this to be happening.” Frustrated he turns to look back out the window. “He also said the only person who can see me will know his name.”

“I’m sorry,” she apologises, the guilt from earlier coming back. “I wish I knew his name.”

He sighs, “Maybe your friend will.”

“I hope so,” she agrees, placing the notebook back in her bag. She looks at the clock on the wall, seeing that it’s almost been an hour.

“Is that lady waiting for you?” he suddenly asks, staring down at the entrance area of the hospital.

“I’ll be back sometime tomorrow,” she assures him as she gathers her things, leaving the cupcake on the table. She glances back at him, wanting to offer some comfort, but the words elude her. With that, she exits the room, the atmosphere around her feeling heavier with more unanswered questions.

©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy/modify/repost anywhere. reblog instead

@staytiny2000 - @rainydayteacups - @hipsdofangirl - @do-you-remember-summer-127 -

@cookiearmy - @catzachvsvt - @ateez-atiny380 - @lovrehani - @reiofsuns2001 -

@shuaserendipity95 - @qwonyoung23 - @lixisoul99 - @satoruifys

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burntheedges-updates · 1 year ago

Text

over again, chapter 1

This is my updates-only blog! Follow me at @burntheedges

Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: you fell in love with Joel Miller in Austin, Texas, in 2001, but you thought you lost him and your whole family in 2003 when the world turned upside down. now it's 2024, and you find the surprise of your life waiting for you in Jackson, Wyoming. or, five times you and Joel fell deeper in love, on both sides of the apocalypse (and one time you did something about it)18+ minors DNI chapter tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, light angst, cursing, no use of y/n, no description of reader (see note below), smallish age difference (reader is 26, Joel is 32/almost 33 when they meet in 2000) (small for this fandom, anyway) (the smut comes later, y'all, we're just getting started here) a/n: Well, here we go! This is part 1. This fic is completely finished. It’s a 5+1 and for some of the 5 parts I’ll post them together (on Sundays) and for some I’ll post them separately (on Sundays and Wednesdays) just due to length. Obviously I'm posting this one early (lol). I’ll tell you whatever the schedule is for the different parts. I've paid a lot of attention to the reader's description in this fic. I've avoided skin color, hair type, body shape/size descriptions, and even clothing (except for one or two spots where you are specifically wearing jeans and boots). You are vaguely shorter than Joel. He does not run his fingers through your hair, and you feel the blood rush to your face or your face heat, but you don't turn red or pink. Please tell me if you notice anything I missed - I want this to be as inclusive as possible. word count: 1724 (for this part) series main post & chapter list | series playlist (w/ plot-related mix) ao3 | chapter 2

Chapter 1: Meet Cute

Jackson, Early Winter, 2023

You’ve been heading northwest from somewhere in Kansas, thinking you’ve never bothered going out this way, even Before, so why not? It’s been months since you saw another person. You’re not even sure the last time you spoke out loud.

You blame the lengthy isolation for how easily they get the jump on you.

It's just after dawn when you're rudely awakened - at first, you’re not sure why, but a second kick to your hip sends you scrambling to sit up in your sleeping bag, which is tangled around your legs. Looking around as you struggle, you realize you’re surrounded by people on foot and on horseback. Every single one of them is pointing a gun at you. You glance to the side and realize your backpack along with anything possibly useful inside of it has been kicked away from you. The woman who kicked you has a steely look in her eye that reminds you, in your half awake state, of the last boss you had Before.

“State your business.” As she speaks you notice the two men closest to her start to fan out a bit, but you don’t dare look away from her.

“I’m just passing through, I’ve been looking for a good place to spend the winter.”

Or, that’s what you would have said, if not for the voice from your past shouting your name in shock just as you open your mouth. “No goddamn way, is that really you?”

You think you must be hallucinating, because everyone you knew Before is dead, but then Tommy fucking Miller pushes his way in front of the woman who spoke. For a moment you can’t do more than stare at each other — him with his gun hanging limply in his right hand, you with your legs still tangled in your godforsaken sleeping bag. Then you launch into motion and start to kick it away as you find your voice. It comes out shaky. Or maybe you’re shaking all over.

“Tommy? But — you’re alive? Where the hell have you been? Wait, are Joel and—“

Tommy cuts you off as he pulls you to your feet and into a tight hug. “Holy shit, we thought you were dead. Holy fucking shit.”

“We? Tommy wait, are they—“

Tommy pulls back, keeping hold of your shoulders as he looks you in the eye. He’s grinning, his eyes wandering all over your face. “He’s alive, sunshine. Or he was when he came through here about a month ago. We’re expecting them back in the spring.”

You can feel your heart racing and your whole body feels hot and tingly. You’re overwhelmed. You didn’t think you could still feel hope like this. It’s terrifying, but you have to know. “He’s- Them? They’re both alive? Sarah?”

You know the answer before he even says anything. Tommy’s face falls, his eyes drop from yours, and you feel it like a sucker punch, as bad as it was the first time around. Your knees give out even though this is what you’ve known, or tried to convince yourself must be true, for 20 years. Tommy falls gently with you to the ground.

Your baby girl. “Oh god, Sarah. And Joel, he must have been—“

“Yeah, sunshine. He thought he lost you both. It wasn’t… well. It wasn’t good.”

You’re starting to feel numb. You have no idea what your face is doing right now, but judging by Tommy’s, it isn’t pretty. 10 minutes ago you were alone in the apocalypse, and suddenly you’re face-to-face with your almost-brother-in-law and you know, without a doubt, that your fiancé hasn’t been dead this whole time. Is this shock? It’s been 20 years since you felt a shock like this. Since you felt anything like this.

“Tommy, I… I need to sit down.”

“Well, you are sitting down, sunshine. But get up, gather your stuff. You can come to town with us. Stay as long as you’d like.” You nod, unsteady, and Tommy guides you carefully towards what must be his horse.

The day passes in a daze. You think you might actually be hallucinating, or still back in your sleeping bag, dreaming, because a whole, functional town? A commune, and a house they’re just going to let you have as your own? A real community? With your only remaining family, miraculously alive? It’s impossible. You float through the rest of the day and find yourself sitting on a bed in a house with indoor plumbing that somehow belongs to you, having just eaten real food in the company of the family you thought you lost 20 years ago.

You give up and go to sleep. (What else are you going to do?)

...

As you settle into life in Jackson, the knowledge that you might see Joel — your Joel, any day now — never leaves your thoughts. It’s like a drum beat at the back of your mind that only repeats his name, marking time every hour of every day. You don’t know how you’ll prepare yourself for it. How could you? You haven’t seen him in 20 years. Anything could be different. You can so easily picture him with a daughter, but it’s Sarah in your mind, not Ellie, who Tommy has told you a bit about. Every time you open those old wounds that you’ve done your best to bury it hurts like the first time. Would he still want you? Still know you? Do you still know him? Would Ellie like you? You can’t imagine not knowing Joel, or Joel not knowing you, but it’s been 20 years and people change. You’ve changed, after all. Some days you barely recognize yourself.

You express these fears to Tommy once, but he only laughs and says his brother may be stupid but he’s not stupid enough not to want you. It’s reassuring and rude, so, exactly like Tommy. At least some things never change.

The day Joel Miller walks back into Jackson you happen to be standing on the road near the gates, talking to Tommy, and you swear he spots you in less than 5 seconds. It’s like you can’t help but look to each other first, even when you don’t know the other is alive, even when you haven’t seen each other in 20 years. You’d know the shape of him anywhere and your eyes have never stopped looking for it, never stopped catching on a set of shoulders, a cocked hip, a tilted head, only to be disappointed when it faded like a mirage. When the person in front of you didn’t fit the hole he left behind. It hurt every time. Maybe it’s been the same for him.

Joel looks like he’s seen a ghost, and you have no idea what expression is on your face, but the moment you lock eyes all you see is the moment you first met, almost 24 years ago, like a film negative laid on top of what’s really in front of you. He’s older, of course, but so are you, and he’s still the most handsome man you’ve ever seen.

He steps towards you and whispers your name like a prayer.

Joel fucking Miller.

Austin, Summer 2000

It was a Saturday morning in late summer, so not yet the hottest part of the day, but not comfortable, either. Your belongings were steadily moving from the truck to your new rental house under your somewhat careful supervision when movement from the house next door caught your eye. You looked up just as one of the guys from the moving company almost dropped your nightstand off the back of the truck, distracting you from the sight of a young girl, maybe about 10, rocketing out of the house next door and down her front steps. She was wearing a bright green soccer uniform.

By the time your nightstand had been righted and you looked back towards your neighbors’ house, she’d made her way to the bushes between your driveways, standing on her tiptoes and taking in all of the commotion. She met your eye and grinned. You grinned back as she called, “Hi, new neighbor!”

You walked over, stopping on the other side of the bush to introduce yourself. “Hi there, neighbor.”

It didn’t seem possible, but she grinned even wider. “I’m Sarah, that’s my dad.”

You looked up, realizing there was a man coming down their steps towards the two of you — the most attractive man you’d ever seen in your life. He was tall, with broad shoulders and the look of a man who spent a lot of time in the sun, tan lines peeking out of his shirt sleeves. His brown curls were a bit messy and his shoulders and strong arms drew your eye like a magnet. You caught yourself giving him a quick once over and felt your face start to warm, embarrassed, but when you met his eyes again you caught him doing the same to you. You realized you were both caught and you smiled, introducing yourself.

“Nice to meet you, darlin’. Joel Miller, and I think you’ve met Sarah.” You felt your face turn hot at the endearment but you knew he probably didn’t mean anything by it. Southern hospitality and all. “Welcome to the neighborhood.”

You’d opened your mouth to respond when you were rudely interrupted by a crashing noise from the moving truck behind you, and you whirled around to see a box on its side on the ground that definitely should not have been. You glanced back at your neighbors as you excused yourself. “It’s great to meet you! Sorry, I need to see what that was.”

They shooed you along before you could even finish your sentence, reassuring you that they understood. “Let me know if anything broke, darlin,’ I’m pretty handy, could probably fix it. It’d be my pleasure.” He smiled at you a bit, just on one side, edging towards a smirk, and you did your best not to stare at his mouth. “Deal,” you agreed, grinning. Both you and Joel seemed unable to draw your eyes away from each other. You were stuck, pinned in place under his gaze until Sarah tugged on his arm and dragged him towards their truck. “Dad, we’re gonna be late!”

The view from the back was just as nice as the front.

...

a/n: ch 2 is up!

taglist: @morgaussy

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #x reader

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ghastlyfilters · 8 months ago

Note

could i have some stu x fem!reader going camping hcs? like it’s him, reader, the rest of the group just going camping and having a good time :))

𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬!! :>

pairing: implied stu macher x fem!reader

a/n: I LITERALLY LOVE YOU FOR REQUESTING THIS OHFOHDEGKIGTPJUPKHOJDTGQRHOYYU

i cannot express how much i fucking think about this group. there will be plenty of the ‘gang’ content coming soon!! picturing them doing the stupidest shit together is just, AH.

anyways anon, thank you for your request that made me so ridiculously happy lol (ENJOY!!)

UPDATE: YO. THIS HAS BEEN IN MY DRAFTS FOR ABOUT A YEAR AND ITS SLIGHTLY UNFINISHED BUT I’LL JUST GIVE IT TO Y’ALL ANYWAY

warnings: harsh language, randy thinking he’s literally gordon ramsey

• Boy oh boy, summertime had finally came around once again. Giving you all a pretty good idea of what was coming soon..

CAMPING!

• Okay, okay.. this hadn’t originally been apart any of your guys’ plans, but all of your parents were stubborn and wanted you to spend more time together.

• And apparently camping was just the right way to do so? Whatever. It’s not like any of you were ever going to win if you tried to protest on going each year. You lot VS a ton of parents? Fuck. It would never work.

• The agreed arrangement had been Stu, Billy, Randy, Sidney, Tatum and yourself to all go camping for atleast one week during summer break.

• Of course Billy was always the one trying to creep his way out of this shitty plan. It had been going on for so many years that the rest of y’all stopped trying at this point. But Billy? Oh, he was pretty damn adamant on faking whatever dumbass illness he could think of.

• You all made bets on who he would call that year, trying to convince that person on how very ‘poorly’ he was doing.

“I can’t go. I have a cold.”

“It’s July..”

“I HAVE A COLD.”

• His dad ended up dragging him out of the house and right into the van Stu’s parents bought him specifically for this occasion.

• After checking you guys had everything packed and ready to go, you were off into the hills!

• It was an interesting road trip to say the least, hours of Randy complaining he had to take a piss, plus Billy whining about how he didn’t wanna be here.. yeah.. an ideal three hours, huh? Jesus.

• The minute you guys arrive, Randy instantly runs over to a tree a little further away from you guys and pulls down his pants, urinating onto the land.

• Tatum always tends to start an argument and tells him how fucking disgusting he is, but he insists that she shuts her mouth and waits until it’s HER turn to be forced to have her bodily functions take over.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s all fun and games until you have to take a dump in the bushes!!”

“AS IF!” Tatum squealed.

“Cut the bullshit, Alicia. You know it’s gonna happen sooner or later.” Billy chimed in.

• You insist on everyone taking a little walk through the woods, just to get familiar with the area once again.

• The rest of the gang agree and head on out with you, embracing the peaceful surrounding.

• You, Billy and Stu slowly walk side by side as the other three are already way ahead of you, arguing over the dumbest shit once again.

• Randy and Tatum always argued non fucking stop everytime you all went camping. Sidney would just awkwardly tag along, trying to change the subject to literally anything else..

• The three ask for permission to go back to camp, seeing as Tatum had made the poor choice of wearing her cute little white boots, though unfortunately they had heels.

• This just meant more peace and quiet for yourself, Billy and Stu. You’d see your other friends later, of course. But a tad bit of extra time with your boyfriend and another one of your closest friends wasn’t going to hurt.

• You guys returned for sun down, as spending all night in the goddamn woods of all places would be rather idiotic of you.

• Each and every one of your stomach’s began to growl, so Stu finally decided to whip out the grill!

• He had packed some hotdogs and burgers, ready to be cooked as soon as possible. Randy also brought along some snacks of course because you know, it’s Randy lmao.

• Another argument breaks out, but this time it’s between both Randy and Stu. Supposedly, Stu was in charge of bringing topping and sauces for the hotdogs. (Of course he had to forget it..)

“Aw, fuck this!” Randy said with a mouthful of food, throwing the remaining piece of his hotdog at a nearby tree.

“NOOOO!” Stu yelped. “What the fuck, man! You ruined a perfectly good hotdog!!”

Randy scoffed. “STU.. MY MOUTH FEELS DRIER THAN A DEAD WOMAN’S VAGINA.. THIS IS SO PLAIN. YOU DIDN’T EVEN BRING PICKLES DUDE..”

…

“Sorry but who the fuck puts pickles on a hotdog?”

“WHERE’S THE FLAVOUR IN THIS PIECE OF SHIT? IT’S BLAND. PAINFULLY BLAND.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, seemed like Randy was having his Gordon Ramsey moment.

• After drunk Randy’s constant complaining and Stu almost losing it over the fact you guys decided you’d make s’mores tomorrow instead of the present night, it didn’t take long until everyone decided to crash for the night. You all had proper tents built up, despite what y’all went through to get them that way..

“No, no, you’re gonna do it wrong. You see, you gotta make sure you’ve put the peg in the right place first.” Billy reminded Stu, trying his hardest to set up their tent. He knew his sleep was going to benefit from this of course, so that was the only reason why he began caring at this point.

“I got it!” Stu smiled, attempting to smack the peg with his mini hammer.

“THAT WAS MY FINGER YOU FU-”

Billy was sure he’d be sweating bullets for days after fully setting up the camp for everyone. He truly didn’t think it would be so hard, but much to his dismay, he was proven wrong.

• Randy and Tatum flat out refused to share a tent together, so they gave Billy the hassle of making two separate tents instead. Whereas Billy and Stu had agreed on sleeping in a tent together, whilst you and Sidney were more than happy to do the exact same thing.

• The tents were rather thin, causing everyone else to hear what was going on inside each tent. Including Randy letting out the odd bit of gas here and there or him sleep talking about ‘Prom Night’ with Jamie Lee Curtis.

• As the sunlight crept its way into everyone’s tents, you all began to stir and awaken. Morning was here. And you were all going to have to get up and start the day.

• Today was rock climbing! Something that had split opinions from the majority of you. Those like yourself, Stu and Tatum found it fun, but others such as Billy, Sidney and Randy weren’t too keen on it.

“You’re all such pussies, man. It’s safe. I don’t know why the three of you complain about it every damn year.” Stu remarked, his attention on your other three friends who really couldn’t be bothered to participate in such an activity right now.

“Please. You only like it because you’re tall and fast enough to catch yourself before you fall.” Billy snorted.

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hollyethecurious · 2 months ago

Text

CS AU: Once Upon A Grimm (2/?)

Summary: The world was far more complex than most people realized. Humans went about their lives, completely ignorant of the fact that there was a world of fairytales existing right alongside them. Well, not really fairytales. Not in the Disney sense, anyway. Many, like the Grimm brothers, had woven the truth into their stories, but the creatures they wrote about were even more nightmarish than their macabre and monstrous depictions. Creatures known as wesen. Supernatural, other-worldly beings who have always lived among humans and have always been hunted by those who had come to be known as Grimms. A struggle of secrecy, balance, and power among these species has existed since the beginning of time. This is a story of a man with his own struggle. The internal struggle of being a human, a wesen, and a Grimm, and the external forces that seek to eradicate one or all of his natures, especially those he tries to keep hidden. Fortunately, Killian Jones is not alone in his struggles nor his secrets. His personal savior, Emma Swan, has secrets and struggles of her own.

A/N: This fic is inspired by and will borrow from the NBC show Grimm. I confess I did not watch Grimm when it first aired, but absolutely fell in love with the show during a binge fest years later. If you have not seen the show, no worries! My beta - who has not seen the show either - assures me that it is not necessary. If you have seen the show, then I hope you’ll forgive the huge creative license I am taking with the material. This is not a strict Grimm retelling with Once characters. This is my own spin on the lore and cannon of both shows.

Sorry I am so late with this update. I underestimated how demanding real life was gonna be now that we are back in full swing with school. I'll do my best to stay on track going forward!

I cannot express how much I have enjoyed being a part of the @cssns all these years. Thank you to the mods who have kept it going year after year. We've had a terrific run! Huge shout out to @kmomof4 for always being my cheerleader and for her exceptional beta skills. A HUGE thank you and many fangirl squeals to my artist @eastwesthomeisbest for the amazing job she did on the cover art that accompanies this fic. Please go show her some love!

FYI: Because the show took cues from the Grimm brothers’ works, much of the vocabulary associated with the supernatural creatures was based on German or German coded language. For words like wesen and woge (which will be explained in the text) the w is pronounced with a v sound on the show. I’ll be using terminology from the show and more common creature names interchangeably within the fic.

Rated E (eventually) / Also available on ao3 and ff.net / buy me a coffee / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me! / Prologue

Chapter One

Two and Half Years Later…

“What have we got?”

Killian approached the scene with his partner, Robin. Their mate and uniformed officer, Will, brought them up to speed, keeping his voice low as the men conversed on the walkway that led to the grand house towering before them.

“Grace Hatter. Eight years old. Never made it to school this morning,” Will informed them, reading over his notes. “Father says she left the house at a quarter to eight like usual. An hour later he got the call from the school telling him she was absent.”

“Do we know if he’s clean?” Killian asked, assessing the distraught man who was being questioned by other officers.

“No,” Will replied. “Dad’s name is Jefferson Hatter. We're looking into him.”

“Mom?”

“Deceased.”

“Okay. Thanks, mate. We’ll go have a talk with him.”

Killian and Robin continued up the walkway. When the father caught sight of them, he rushed down the front steps to meet them halfway.

“Are you the detectives?”

“Yes, sir,” Robin responded. “Detectives Locksley and Jones. Can you tell us more about your daughter? When you last her? What she was wearing?”

“Yeah, um…” The man took a moment to try and compose himself. His hand shook as he brought it up to run down his face. A shuddering breath filled his lungs and a sob caught in the back of his throat. “She uh, she left here about 7:45. She’s wearing purple leggings and an oversized, purple top that has a white rabbit on the front of it. She also had on a red hoodie and her backpack is pink and purple with her name on it.”

“Does she often walk by herself to school?”

The man, Jefferson, nodded, tears welling in his eyes. “Ever since the beginning of the school year. She wanted… She wanted to be a big girl this year.” He took out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the freshly fallen tears drops from his face. “I was reluctant, but the school isn’t far and normally she walks with another little girl and her brother down the block.”

“But not today?” Killian inquired.

“No,” Jefferson answered. “Ava and her brother are both out sick this week. Grace walked alone yesterday, so I didn’t see an issue with her walking alone again today.” His face reddened, the tears now cascading down his cheeks as he pleaded, “Please. You have to find my little girl, please!”

“We’re going to do everything we can,” Robin promised him, digging a card from his pocket. “An officer is going to stay with you as we canvas the neighborhood, but if you think of anything else, give us a call.”

“Th-Thank you, detectives,” Jefferson said, taking the card then following one of the officers back to the house.

“So, what do you think?” Robin said under his breath as they turned back towards the street and surveyed their surroundings.

“If he’s involved then he’s an excellent actor,” Killian replied. “I think it more likely she was grabbed on her way to school. The question is… where?”

The street was lined with houses on one side, facing a wooded park area. The little girl would have made her way to the end of the block then turned to go around the woods. The school was located on the other side, about seven blocks away.

“We’ve spoken with all the neighbors who are home along the route she would have taken,” Will said, joining the detectives. “No one saw anything.”

“Maybe she didn’t take the usual route,” Killian said, jutting his chin towards the woods. “Maybe she took a shortcut.”

“Dad was very specific about the route,” Will told him. “He said Grace wasn’t allowed to cut through the woods.”

“Yeah, and we all know you did everything you were told when you were a kid,” Robin quipped, slapping Will on the back before heading towards the woods.

The three of them followed the worn path, carved out of the foliage by those who had used the woods as a shortcut over the years. Although focused on the task before him, Killian could not help but acknowledge how fortunate he was to do this job with his two best mates at his side.

It had been a series of unfortunate events that had led them here. Two and half years ago, he and Robin had been uniformed officers at different precincts and Will, after washing out of the academy years before, owned a local bar. After being attacked and having his life, once again, turned upside down, Killian had spiraled a bit. Neglectful of his duty and spending too much time at Will’s bar had made him a less than stellar candidate for detective, despite his high scores on the exam. However, everything changed once more the night Will’s bar went up in flames.

Though it had been deemed arson, they still weren’t sure how it had happened. The explosion and fire claimed the lives of more than a dozen officers and detectives from both Storybrooke and Glowerhaven. In the aftermath, personnel had been reshuffled, reassigned, and reevaluated, giving Killian a second chance at a detective slot and transferring Robin to the Storybrooke precinct. Will, determined to bring the perpetrator to justice, had reapplied to the academy and finished top of his class before being assigned to the Storybrooke PD.

Although the arson case had gone cold, Killian and Robin, with an assist from their favorite uniformed patrolman, had managed to garner the highest number of closed cases of any rookie or veteran detectives within the city or its outlying suburbs. Robin often joked that the reason the three of them were so good at this job was because in another life they would have been criminals themselves - and therefore knew how their perps thought - dubbing themselves the pirate, the bandit, and the thief.

Of course, he had no idea that Killian possessed abilities beyond those of a normal human detective which gave him an advantage. Abilities he was currently applying in the hopes of bringing this little girl home safely.

When the trail forked, the trio branched off in separate directions. Once out of sight from his mates, Killian crouched down and closed his eyes, homing in on the sounds around him as he inhaled deeply. Over the years he’d made peace with his wolf side. It wasn’t always easy to keep the wesen reined in, or explain away how he’d been able to accomplish some of the things his supernatural abilities allowed him to do, but as time went on he found ways to balance his human and wesen side.

Not able to pick up anything out of the ordinary, Killian resumed his search further up the path. A moment later, Robin’s voice called out.

“I’ve got something!”

Killian rushed towards Robin’s voice, arriving alongside an out of breath Will. Both men were too focused on the pink and purple backpack laying among the ferns to notice Killian’s lack of exertion.

“Grace Hatter.” Will read the name where it had been monogrammed in bright pink, confirming it belonged to their missing girl. “She must have been grabbed somewhere in this area.”

“Careful where you step,” Killian reminded them. “Will, call it in and inform the others that we have a crime scene in Wonderland Woods Park across from the victim’s house.”

Will stepped away to radio it in, leaving the detectives to peruse the area.

“Killian, we got boot prints here. They look fresh.”

Killian noted the direction of the prints and commented, “He took her this way.” Setting off down the path, he shouted over his shoulder, “Stay with Will until CSU arrives. I’ll see where the prints lead.”

Once out of sight, Killian crouched down again and took in a deep breath. The hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention and a primal growl rumbled in the center of his chest. He could tell the scent was wesen, although he wasn’t sure what species. There was something vaguely familiar about it, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on why.

Never before, since his transition, had he ever wished for the moon to be in its full cycle. If it were, then his sense of smell would be stronger. He’d be able to discern the little girl’s scent better, as well as her abductor’s, and he’d be able to tell which direction the two had gone once they’d reached the road on the other side of the woods.

Cursing under his breath, Killian made his way back to Robin and Will. The Crime Scene Unit had already arrived and the area was being cordoned off so they could work making casts of the boot prints. Killian eyed Grace’s backpack as it was being bagged and tagged so it could be processed for fingerprints. He wished he’d gotten a chance to scent it, but the K-9 unit was already seeing to the task.

“There isn’t much more we can do here,” Robin told him. “Will and the other officers will follow up on the neighbors they didn’t get a chance to speak with earlier. Maybe one of their security cameras will have caught them coming out of the park.”

“Aye,” Killian said with a resigned sigh.

Clapping Killian on the back, Robin suggested, “Let’s go get some lunch. By the time we’re done, more evidence will have been collected and processed, then we can focus on whatever they found.”

“I suppose I could eat,” Killian relented. Robin was right. There was nothing more they could do that the other officers didn’t already have handled. They’d need their strength and their wits about them for the long afternoon and evening ahead. “Where did you have in mind?”

“How about Aesop’s?”

Killian cocked a brow his partner’s way. “Aesop’s? A bit swanky for lunch isn’t it?”

Robin shrugged. “I hear they have a great burger menu.”

“Mhmm,” Killian hummed. Something in Robin’s demeanor had him dubious as to whether that was the real reason. “I suppose we could check it out,” he replied with a shrug of his own, followed by a wolfish grin. “So long as you’re buying.”

~/~

“So that’s the real reason you wanted to come here,” Killian ribbed in a sing-song tone. “The lovely and elusive Miss Mills.”

Robin’s cheeks flamed pink behind the bun of his burger as he took as long as he possibly could to bite off then chew a mouthful.

“You know this constitutes stalking, right? Why not just ask her out?”

Robin swallowed and chased the bite with a sip of water, once again taking his time running his napkin over his mouth before placing it back in his lap.

“You’re hopeless,” Killian exasperated, getting up from his seat. He shot a wink over his shoulder to his mortified partner as he approached the nearby table, teeming with lawyers in their power suits. “Miss Mills?” he said in a feigned tone of surprise.

“Detective Jones,” she said in a friendly yet reserved greeting. “Funny running into you here?”

“Aye,” he said. “The lunch burger menu was recommended to Robin and me, so we thought we’d give it a go.” He gestured back towards the table Robin was metaphorically trying to hide beneath. Miss Mills - Regina - gave him a wave which he awkwardly reciprocated. “I won’t keep you,” Killian continued. “I was on my way to the facilities when I spotted you and just wanted to say hello. Enjoy your lunch.”

“Thank you, detective. A pleasure seeing you,” she replied, though her attention was not set on him but rather still subtly fixated on his partner.

When Killian exited the lavatory hall on his way back to the table, he slowed his steps and his lips twitched up in a smile. Robin and Regina were standing at the table conversing as the prosecutor’s colleagues were filing past, on their way out the door. Regina slipped Robin her card, her painted lip caught between her teeth, and he accepted it with a full, bright smile. Killian chuckled to himself, eager to take the mickey out of his friend, when something in Regina’s countenance shifted.

She’d turned towards the door, prepared to follow her colleagues, when her entire body went rigid. Something rippled through her expression and Killian was taken aback by what he saw.

She woged.

Regina Mills was… a hexenbeist?

No. He had to be seeing things. She couldn’t have woged. If she had, the entire restaurant would be in an uproar, especially Robin. There’s no way anyone would have missed the gruesome sight of a hexenbeist revealing her true form. Unless…

No. That wasn’t a possibility either. The full moon wasn’t in cycle yet, so there was no way he could have witnessed a demi-woge. Could he?

Regina’s features returned to normal, but her posture was still stiff and on guard. He followed her eyes to try and determine what had prompted such a response and was stunned to see another woged hexenbeist casually standing by the hostess stand. She had flaming red hair and was dressed in a tight, green dress. When her human face presented itself once more, she wore a smug, slightly challenging smirk.

Finally collecting herself, Regina marched past the woman without a word or backward glance, but the red-haired witch watched her all the way out the door and down the block.

“Did you see that?”

Robin’s question shook Killian from his shock, but a fresh, confused panic spiked within him. “See what?”

“The text,” Robin said, lifting his phone for Killian to see. “We’ve got a body.”

“A body?” Killian parroted, attempting to get his racing heart under control while processing what his partner said.

He didn’t see it, then. Didn’t see them change. Then why did I?

“Not Grace Hatter?” Killian’s heart dropped a little as his mind finally caught up.

“No,” Robin assured him. “Not the missing girl, but the captain wants us to take point on this one, too.” He beckoned Killian to follow him through the tables towards the exit. “I’ve already settled the bill. Will’s waiting for us at the scene.”

Before heading out the door, Killian scanned the restaurant for the red-headed hexenbeist, but saw no sign of her. He tried to shake off the unnerving feeling her and Regina’s woge had elicited in him. The mystery of why he had been able to see it at all would have to wait. He had more pressing issues to concern himself with.

~/~

“Are you sure this is even a homicide?” Killian heard Will ask under his breath. “Looks more like an animal attack?”

For the second time that day, Killian’s hackles rose. The scene before him was familiar. Too familiar. He could remember, as though it were yesterday, making the same inquiry to the detectives working a similar scene. A scene that had led to Killian being attacked and transformed. A scene that had been declared an animal attack after the DNA had come back as inconclusive. A scene where no other evidence had been left behind except…

“We got a boot print!”

Killian’s entire body reacted in a ripple of goose bumps and a sharp inhale confirmed the truth as a familiar scent penetrated his sinuses.

It’s him! He’s back. The blutbad who attacked me. The blutbad who made me. He’s back and he’s killed again. He’s killed again and… HE’S TAKEN GRACE HATTER!

“Oi! Kill, er… detective. You alright?”

“You look as though you’ve seen a ghost, mate.”

Killian’s Apple apple bobbed painfully. “We need to go see the Captain. Now.”

It was a quick ride back to the precinct, though Killian’s silent stewing had probably made it feel longer to his partner. Robin knew him well enough to not pepper him with questions when he was like this, allowing him space to get his thoughts together. It didn’t mean his mate didn’t side-eye him with furtive glances the entire way back to the station, though.

“Captain Gold, do you have a minute?” Killian asked at the open doorway of their captain’s office.

“For my two best detectives? Of course,” Captain Gold said, gesturing them forward. “How’s the investigation going into the missing girl? Or is this about the body we found? A jogger who was a student at the local university?”

“Actually,” Killian hedged, still unsure how he was going to convince his captain and his partner of what he knew to be fact. “It may be about both.”

“Go on.”

Killian and Robin took a seat in front of the captain’s desk. Leaning forward, Killian began to fill them in on what he’d pieced together.

“A little over two years ago, there was a hiker who was attacked in a similar fashion to how we found the jogger today.”

“I remember,” Gold said, nodding his head. “That was ruled an animal attack, wasn’t it?”

“Aye,” Killian said. “The DNA was inconclusive, but that wasn’t the only evidence left at the scene.” Flicking his eyes towards Robin, he said, “There was a boot print. Just like the one at the scene today. And that’s not all…” Sitting back, Killian wiped his hand down his face and let go a heavy breath. “The same day the hiker was attacked and killed, a little girl went missing in Glowerhaven.” Robin’s eyes widened and Killian knew he didn’t need reminding, but the Captain still needed to know. “I know because Robin helped work that case and we were mates back then.” Setting his attention back on his captain, Killian continued. “Look. I’m not saying all these cases are connected, but we did find boot prints where we suspect Grace Hatter was abducted, and it all feels a little suspect to just be coincidence.”

Captain Gold tented his fingers in front of him, and his eyes narrowed at Killian. “I’m inclined to agree,” he said, after a few agonizing seconds. “It’s all too coincidental to not look into.” His eyes shifted to Robin. “Locksley, reach out to Glowerhaven and see if you can get a copy of the missing girls file from two years ago. Check it for any similarities to the Grace Hatter case. Jones,” he continued, focusing his attention back on Killian. “Follow-up on the boot print. See if the one from the hiker’s scene matches the jogger’s, then compare it to the ones we found at the abduction site.” With a dismissing nod, he added, “Keep me informed.”

“Yes, Captain,” the two detectives replied on their way out of Gold’s office.

“How did you put all of that together?” Robin asked. “Remembering that girl from more than two years ago who went missing the same day a hiker was mauled? I don’t think I would have put that together.”

“I don’t know,” Killian deflected. “Something about that night just… stuck with me, I guess.”

“Well, good pick up,” Robin said, clapping him on the back. “I’m gonna call GPD, then head over to collect those files. Check in later?”

“Aye,” Killian told him. “Later.”

It took Killian less time to confirm the boot prints were a match at all three scenes than it did for Robin to make it back with the files. Although it proved the crimes may be connected, the boots that matched the prints were a very common brand. It would be nearly impossible to find their suspect that way. Frustrated, Killian shot off a text to Robin and Will, letting them know he was gonna go out for some air.

There had to be a way of finding this monster.

Not that he hadn’t already tried. He’d gone back to the scene of the hiker’s mauling time and time again in search of any clues, hoping to discover the identity of the killer and the wesen who had turned him. Once the case had been cleared from homicide, investigators believing a wolf or mountain lion had caused the grizzly death, there had been little Killian could do inside the law. He’d been too preoccupied with the changes he was facing as a newly made wesen to pursue the blutbad on his own, and too worried about what his brother’s reaction might have been if he’d turned the case over to a Grimm. A Grimm who might have been able to detect such changes in his little brother.

Now, he couldn’t help but feel as though the jogger’s death and the missing girl were his fault. He should have told Liam about the rogue blutbad or gone after it himself.

He wouldn’t make the same mistake this time.

Digging his phone from his pocket, Killian dialed his brother’s number and held his breath as the call rang.

This is Liam Jones. I’m not available to take your call. Leave me a message.

“Liam. It’s Killian. Call me back. I’ve got a situation here that might require your expertise.”

Typical.

Killian’s phone vibrated in his hand. He glanced at the screen, expecting it to be Liam returning the call. Instead, the caller ID displayed Will’s name. Killian knew he’d been pouring over videos collected from neighborhood cameras, and he was eager to hear if he’d found anything that might help them locate the missing girl.

“Will? What you got?”

“Not much,” Will confessed over the phone. “I’ve checked all the cameras we collected from Tweedle Drive, the street the perp would have exited the woods from, and there’s nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Nothing?” Killian asked, defeated. “From the whole street?”

“Well, there’s a bit we don’t have footage of, but none of the videos show any car, truck, or van he may have used to move the girl. The only vehicle on the street at that time was the mail truck.”

“The mail truck?” Killian repeated, an idea coming to him. “Do me a favor. Find out who was working that route today and whether the postal service issues a certain type of boot for their employees' uniforms.”

“You think it was the postman?”

“It’s the only lead we’ve got,” he told Will. “If nothing else, the postal worker may have seen something. We should track them down as a potential witness.”

“I’ll get right on it.”

“Text me the name when you’ve got it.”

“Will do.”

A renewed rush of hope filled Killian as he made his way back to the precinct, but it was hindered by a fresh realization.

If the postal worker did turn out to be their suspect, then he wouldn’t be going up against their usual perp. He’d be going up against a wesen. A blutbad. And not just any blutbad… his sire. The one who had turned him. Would he know? Even without the full moon bringing out his wesen characteristics, would his sire be able to tell what he was?

Killian stopped short of the station door and did an about face. He needed to better prepare himself for this confrontation, and there was only one person who would be able to help him do so.

Searching his contacts as he made his way to his vehicle, he prayed this call would not go to voicemail.

His prayer was answered.

“Hello?”

“Swan. It’s me. I need your help.”

~/~

The fingers of her left hand drummed against the counter as the nails on her right were being assaulted by her teeth. Normally, Emma Swan would not allow a situation to unnerve her this way. Of course, it wasn’t the situation, not really, it was the man involved in the situation. The man who only came in once a month to pick up his wolfsbane tonic and share polite pleasantries with her or her brother, who assisted her at the shop. The man who had agreed to keep things between them strictly professional after the one time thing incident that had occurred early on in their association. The man who had kept to that promise… until now.

He wasn’t coming here for his tonic - the full moon was still over a week away. He wasn’t coming here for tea, or spices, or herbal remedies, or anything within the purview of her business. No. He was coming here because he needed help on a case. He was coming here because he had nowhere else to turn. He was coming here because he needed… her.

Although they had managed to keep one another at arm’s length these past two years, it hadn’t been that way at first. The month following his attack and introduction into the wesen world, they had texted and chatted numerous times, having built a rapport by the time of the next full moon.

A rapport that simmered with attraction and temptation.

Fortunately, they had both understood the seriousness underlying his stay with her during that first full moon. Setting aside the obvious chemistry between them, they focused instead on the alchemy of finding the right balance of wolfsbane. Everything had gone as expected… until it hadn’t.

“Emma, sweetie,” Granny said in her admonishing tone. “Are you trying to drive us both mad with your fidgeting?”

“Sorry, Granny,” Emma mumbled, removing her nail from her teeth and flattening both hands on the counter.

The elderly woman’s soft, weathered hand covered hers and she gave it a light, comforting squeeze. “What’s got you all riled up? You said he was a regular customer.” Her eyes narrowed and her head tilted to the side. “Is it because he’s a lycanthrope?” Patting Emma’s hand she assured, “I may not look it, but I can still hold my own. If he gets unruly, then--”

“No, it’s not like that,” Emma said, cutting the woman off in a rush, not wishing her to get the wrong impression. “Detective Jones is much more disciplined than lycanthropes are believed to be. He’s… he’s a good man.”

“Then why on earth are you worked up in such a state?” Granny inquired. “I can practically smell the anxiety and tension wafting off of you.”

Emma chewed her bottom lip, then silently cursed herself. Get a grip, Emma. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she straightened her posture and schooled her features. “It’s nothing.”

Granny let out a dubious hum. “Try again,” she said. “If you want me to help a lycanthrope - and a detective to boot - that has you all tied up in knots then you’re gonna have to give me a reason.”

Emma released a heavy sigh. She knew Granny was right. The woman was going out on a limb for her, the least she could do was give her the truth.

Given that she expected the detective to arrive at any moment, Emma quickly told Granny about her and Killian’s first meeting, and the subsequent month that had followed.

“Sounds like the two of you became fast friends,” Granny remarked, though Emma thought she could detect something slightly off in the woman’s tone. “What happened?”

Glancing at the door, Emma wasn’t sure if she was irritated or relieved that he hadn’t arrived yet. She’d never told anyone what had happened.

“He came to stay with me for the full moon, as planned,” she began.

“Here?” Granny asked, knowing the proprietor lived above her shop.

“Yes,” Emma confirmed. “In my spare room. I wanted us to be close to the workshop so I could make adjustments on the fly.”

“What do you mean?”

Swallowing, Emma told Granny about the experiments they did, testing the effectiveness of the wolfsbane. “Things like, provoking his temper and trying to elicit responses that were more primal,” she hedged, with half a shrug of her shoulder, “to see how well he could keep control under such stimuli.”

“And?” Granny prompted. “How did he do?”

“He did great,” Emma said, then winced slightly as she added, “Until August showed up.”

A knowing huff left Granny. “Yeah. I’d imagine the presence of another male might have set him off a bit. Did your brother come away unscathed?”

“Barely,” Emma replied. “Killian didn’t know who August was and when he saw him hugging me he… woged.”

“As in… fully?”

“Yeah.”

“That must have been intense for all of you.”

“It was,” Emma sighed. “I had to use magic to diffuse the situation, but once cooler heads prevailed and I was able to introduce the two of them, I thought things were resolved.”

“Until?”

Emma’s mind flashed back to the morning after he’d woged and tried to attack August. The morning after the final full moon.

“So… you made it through your first full moon.”

“Aye. Thanks to you, love.”

“No need to thank me,” she told him. “I should be thanking you.”

“For?”

“For not ripping out my idiot brother’s throat,” she said in a tone mixed with amusement and annoyance. “I told him not to come here this weekend, but does he listen?”

Killian hummed, a sultry, toe-curling sound, and sauntered forward. “Perhaps gratitude is in order then?” he murmured, tapping his lips suggestively with a raised brow and challenging smirk.

“Yeah,” she said, a little breathlessly. “That’s what the thank you was for.”

Another sinful sound echoed past his lips as he pressed further into her personal space. “Is that all your brother’s life is worth to you?”

“Please,” she scoffed with an eye roll, trying, and failing, to get her heart rate under control, knowing full well he could probably hear its erratic beat. “You couldn’t handle it.”

The corner of his lips lifted in a feral and taunting manner. “Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it.”

The crack of the t against his tongue reverberated through her, and without thought she grabbed the lapels of his jacket, fusing her mouth to his. It took him the briefest of seconds to respond, inhaling deeply before thoroughly devouring her.

It was hot. It was primal. It was all-consuming.

“That was…”

It was a big fucking mistake.

“A one time thing,” she murmured, pulling back from his chasing lips. “We… we can’t do this. I… I can’t do this.”

Releasing him, she took several steps back, unable to meet his eye or look upon his confused expression.

“Swan,” he panted, both of them still working to catch their breath. “Have I… Have I done something? I know attacking your brother was bad form. Please don’t think I’m unaware of the seriousness of that--”

“No, it’s… it’s not that,” she said. “I know you didn’t really have control over--”

“Then what?” he asked. “What’s changed?”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Emma rocked back on her heels and said, “I just don’t think it’s a good idea for us to… I mean… this is all new to you and the last thing we both need is to complicate an already complex situation. I think it would be best if we… kept things professional between us.”

She braced herself for his response, expecting him to be angry. Expecting him to accuse her of leading him on, or taking advantage of him while he was vulnerable. She hadn’t expected him to run a hand through his hair while letting go a heavy sigh before agreeing with her.

“Aye,” he said, softly. “Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps now is not the best time to…” Flicking his too blue gaze up to hers, he gave her an earnest smile. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me, Swan. I think I’ll be able to manage on my own now, thanks to you.”

“You’ll still need the tonic each month,” she reminded him with a slight edge of panic in her voice. She didn’t mean for their association to end altogether. “And you can still call or text me if you have questions about--”

“Thank you,” he interjected, cutting her off before she could continue with her offer. “I’ll swing in for the tonic in a month’s time. I’ll be sure to let you know if there are any issues regarding the treatment.” Reaching up, he pawed at a patch of skin behind his ear. “I, uh… I should go. I have a shift in an hour.”

“Right,” she said, letting him pass so he could collect his things from where he’d set them by the door. “See you next month?”

“Aye, Swan,” he said over his shoulder as he exited the shop. “See you then.”

“Only… I didn’t see him then,” she told Granny. “I chickened out and left the order with August.”

“Are you telling me,” Granny chastised, “that you haven’t seen that young man since--”

“No!” Emma replied, indignantly. “Of course I’ve seen him. We just… it’s been…” Another heavy sigh expelled out of her lungs. “After our… shared moment, I did avoid him for a bit and I know he struggled to cope with his transition, which made me feel worse about how we left things, but then there was this fire at his friend’s bar, and he made detective, and I don’t know… something about him changed. Things were less weird when he came in and we managed to carve out this nice, albeit superficial, relationship and yet--”

“The feelings are still there?”

Emma laughed a rather hysterical sounding laugh. “Uh, no. No feelings. I mean, obviously I care about him, as a person, but my current demeanor has nothing to do with feelings.”

“Oh? What does it have to do with, then?”

Emma didn’t get a chance to answer the woman’s smug question. The bell over the door chimed and the two women's heads snapped in its direction. In walked Killian Jones, as handsome and alluring as ever.

“Swan,” he greeted with a reverential nod. “Thank you for seeing me.”

“Of course,” she managed to choke out, her mouth having gone dry. Clearing her throat, she gestured towards Granny and introduced, “This is, uh, Granny Lucas. She runs the new B&B and diner up the street. I thought she might be able to help. Granny, this is Detective Jones.”

“Please,” he said, taking Granny’s hand and offering it a polite shake. “Killian will do.”

“A pleasure to meet you, detective,” Granny said, obviously sizing him up. “You’re not at all what I expected.”

“Meaning?”

Her gaze still assessing him, Granny quipped, “Most lycanthropes have me wanting to rip out their throats within seconds of meeting them, but you… you’re different.”

Killian’s brows shot up and his eyes flicked to Emma even as he continued to address Granny. “It seems you have me at a disadvantage,” he said a little too calmly. “You know about me, yet I have no idea why Swan brought you in on--”

“Granny’s a blutbad,” Emma blurted out, causing his brows to raise even higher as his head snapped back to the elderly woman. “I thought, seeing as you said your case had something to do with a blutbad, and that you needed more information about them, that you’d like to have your questions answered by someone who--”

“Not just any blutbad,” he said, cutting her off in a tone laced with menace and anger. “The blutbad.”

Emma gasped. “The one who turned you?”

“Aye.” His gaze turned dark and his features hardened. “He’s back and he’s killed again. He’s even taken a little girl captive.”

“That’s terrible,” Emma said, keeping herself from reaching out to offer him a hand of comfort. “When did you--”

“Today,” he told her, catching both women up on the case of the little girl and the jogger and how he’d connected them to the cases from over two years ago.

“We found matching boot prints at the crime scenes, but I also detected his scent at each location. I knew there was something familiar about it, but didn’t put it together until I smelled it mixed with the jogger’s blood. It brought back the olfactory memory of that night,” he said, momentarily getting lost in thought until he shook his head and added, “Of course… I can’t enter that into evidence. Fortunately, we have a lead, but I am wary of confronting him without knowing more.”

“More?” Granny said, her countenance a bit stand-offish and very imposing. “Like what?”

“Like,” Killian hedged, wetting his lips and taking a moment to assess Granny as she had him. “Whether I’ll be able to know him by scent even if he isn’t woged. Typically, I can’t detect wesen by scent whilst they’re in their human form or see them demi-woge unless it's the full moon, so I can only assume he was in full woge when he abducted the girl and attacked the jogger.”

Granny remained stoic and stone-faced, still unsure whether she should trust the gemacht wesen in front of her.

“Look,” Killian said with a tone of authority Emma imagined he employed often in his line of work. “I know there’s a code among wesen. This desire to look after one's own kind. But this guy is a killer. He’s killed two people that we know of and may, even now, be holding a little girl captive, so please. Help me find him. Help me find her.”

The reminder of the little girl softened Granny’s features. “If he’s done what you say he has, then he’s putting us all at risk.” Quickly, she flicked her gaze to Emma then back to him, conceding, “You’re right. There is a code among wesen, but it only extends so far. It sounds to me like this blutbad has gone feral, and his behavior is only going to escalate the longer he’s allowed to run wild.”

“Then… you’ll help me?”

Her posture relaxed further and she stepped up to the counter, bringing her closer to both Killian and Emma. Nodding, she said, “Yes, I’ll help you.”

A relieved breath fell from Emma’s lips and she took Granny’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “Thank you, Granny.”

Granny patted her hand then straightened her shoulders, getting down to business. “Now, I’m no expert on lycanthropes, but unless he fully woges, I don’t think you’ll be able to tell whether your suspect is the blutbad you’re looking for. If he is feral, then it wouldn’t take too much to provoke a response, but you’d have to be ready. Once he woges… he’ll be out for blood.”

Emma saw a shudder pass over the detective and she wondered if he was remembering his own experience with an uncontrolled woge.

“What about the girl?” Killian asked. “What motive would he have for taking her?”

Granny pursed her lips together then hesitantly replied. “If he’s feral, and attacked someone before, then he’s likely gotten a taste for human blood.” Killian and Emma both grimaced, sickened by the notion. “I’d wager he attacked and fed on that jogger first. Probably lost control. He knows he’ll be good for another week until the urge takes hold again, but by then it’ll be the full moon and it’ll be risky for him to be out and about. He probably took the girl in preparation of making a meal of her later. Taking her now gives him time to fatten her up.”

Emma thought she might be sick, and while she could see the shared disgust in Killian’s face, she also saw rage.

Granny caught his eye and imparted, “Having her will make him even more territorial and dangerous. So you’ll need to be ready for anything.”

“Will he, uh…” Killian began, haltingly. “Will he be able to discern who I am? What I am?”

“No,” Granny said, shaking her head. “I only made that quip about lycanthropes because Emma had already told me what you are… and I wanted to see how you’d react. You ought to know by now that wesen can only sense you during the full moon.”

“Aye, but he isn’t just any wesen,” Killian countered. “He’s my maker. Are you sure that won’t have an effect?”

“I don’t see why it would.”

Killian’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, a reluctant question seemed to pause at the tip of his tongue.

“So there won’t be any… connection between us, then? No weird side effort of my turning that would make me sympathetic towards him or beholden in some way?”

Granny scoffed and cocked an amused brow at him. “Such sire bonds only exist in fiction.”

Killian’s head fell in relief and Emma could now detect how much tension he must have been carrying over that worry.

“Gemacht sometimes latch on to those who aid and guide them through their transition, and many times that is the wesen who turned them, so if you were to have bonded onto someone it would have been the person who was there for you at the beginning of and during your first change.”

Killian’s head snapped up, his eyes locking onto Emma’s. Her heart stuttered, then began pounding in her chest while her breath remained trapped in her lungs.

Granny’s gaze volleyed between the two of them, her heading tilting to one side as she quipped, “I suppose that explains the pent up tension I’ve been sensing between you two.” A warm smile lifted the corners of her mouth in response to their awkward reaction to the call out, and she assured them, “Don’t worry. The bond was temporary. I dare say enough time has passed that it would be gone altogether.” Her no nonsense demeanor returned as she focused her attention solely back on Killian and asked, “Anything else?”

Unsticking his tongue from the roof of his mouth, Killian cleared his throat and said, “Just one last thing… Do you know who this blutbad might be?”

“Afraid not,” Granny told him with obvious regret in not being able to provide him a name. “I only relocated to Storybrooke a few months ago, and I find it best to avoid my kind as much as possible.” Her eyes fell down to the counter and on a bit of a grumble she added, “Bad things happen when we get into a pack. Especially when we see red.”

Killian’s eyes went wide.

“What?” Emma asked. “What is it?”

Killian locked eyes with her once more. “The little girl. Grace. She was last seen wearing a red hoodie. And the jogger and hiker both had on red jackets when their remains were found.”

“So, red provokes him?” Emma said, shaking her head in confusion. “But you weren’t wearing red when he attacked you. You were in uniform.”

“Which,” Granny interjected, “along with your natural demeanor of dominance and authority, he would have seen as a threat.”

“Which means he’ll likely view me as a threat when I confront him.”

“Most likely,” Granny warned. She glanced at the clock on the wall, and Emma knew she needed to get going so she could get back to the diner before the evening rush. “My advice,” she said, rounding the counter on her way out. “When you do confront him, do it alone. You don’t want him to feel trapped or backed into a corner, and if things go badly…”

“Aye,” Killian agreed. “I don’t want anyone else getting hurt.”

Extending her hand, Granny offered him a sincere expression as he accepted the gesture. “Take care of yourself, Detective. I hope you can bring him to justice, but if not… bring him down any way you can.”

With that, she said a quick goodbye to Emma then exited the shop.

“Tough old bird,” Killian said in her wake, causing Emma to huff out an amused breath.

“Yeah. Granny is… something else.”

“Terrifying, I believe is the word you’re looking for,” he quipped with a light chuckle.

The two shared a laugh then stood awkwardly regarding one another for a long moment before Killian cleared his throat and said, “Um… thank you, Swan. I truly appreciate your help. I didn’t know who else to--”

“It was nothing,” Emma blurted out, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I mean… I was happy you called and that I could…”

Her words fell away and a wash of something akin to embarrassment or bashfulness swept over her. Her face was hot and her palms were starting to get slick.

You're being ridiculous, Emma. You’re not a silly school girl unsure of what to say to her crush. In fact… you don’t have a crush. This isn’t a crush. This is--

Killian’s phone chimed with a notification. Pulling it from his pocket, he checked the text and his grip tightened to the point that Emma feared he’d crack the screen.

“Killian? What is it?”

Slowly, Killian’s eyes lifted and met hers. The look that swirled in those blue depths made her breath hitch.

“We found him, Swan.” His voice was low, almost a growl, and it made the hair on the back of her neck stand in a way that caused her to shiver.

“Who is he?” she asked in a whisper, only vaguely aware that she was rounding the counter to move towards him.

His eyes never left hers and once she was standing before him, they flickered between her own as he answered. “His name is Quinn Adair. His address puts him outside of the city. Out in the woods.”

Emma swallowed hard as an eruption of worry filled her chest. “Are you… You’re not going to go after him now are you?”

“I have to, Swan,” he insisted. “He has Grace, remember? I have to get to her before he…”

Emma nodded, knowing that time was of the essence for that poor girl who was probably terrified out of her mind.

“Just… be careful?” she said, wetting her lips, which caused his gaze to drop down briefly. “And, um… Call me later so I know how it… so I know the girl is okay… and you.”

“Aye,” he said, pocketing his phone. “I will. I promise.”

She expected him to rush out after that, but he continued to stand there. Conflicted.

“Swan, I know this isn’t the time, but… what Granny said earlier. About us. About the bond that might have been created between us. Was that… Was that the reason you pulled away? Did you suspect?”

“Killian, I…” Emma didn’t know what to say. It would certainly be a plausible reason to give him. One that was safer than the truth.

It would be a lie, though.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, waving off the question and sparing her from having to answer. “As Granny said, whatever was going on between us at the time, it’s likely run its course, so…”

“So?”

Stepping forward, Killian grabbed her hand and lightly held it in his. A rush of goosebumps swept up her arm when his thumb brushed over her knuckles.

“So… Maybe when this case is solved and things go back to relative normalcy, we could… try again?”

“Try again?” Emma parroted. A contradictory cocktail of hope, elation, dread, and panic collided within her as her good sense warred with her wants and desires.

“As friends, I mean,” he clarified, and in tamping down her own disappointment she missed the tone of it in his voice. “We had the start of something I was beginning to cherish and I miss…”

“Me, too,” she told him, turning her hand in his so she could give it a squeeze. Maybe it was reckless. She’d avoided close relationships all her life for a reason, and yet… “I’d love to start again. As friends.”

His smile took her breath away, but it was quickly schooled so he could focus on the dangerous task that lay before him.

“Do you want me to come with you?” she asked, filled with concern about him facing his maker alone. “I know Granny said not to make him feel trapped or backed into a corner, but I doubt he’d see me as a threat. And I doubt he’d be expecting a witch.”

His lip curled up on one side. “As much as I would love to see him go up against your magic, I won’t put you in harm's way like that.” When she opened her mouth to argue, he quickly added, “Besides. I need to try and do this by the book. I’m a cop before anything else.”

“I get that,” Emma relented, begrudgingly. “But I’m going to keep my phone close by in case you get in over your head and change your mind.”

“In over my head?” he said in feigned offense. “I’ll have you know, love,” he murmured in a low timber, edging a bit closer to her. “If there is one thing I’m good at… it’s surviving.”

“Mhmm,” Emma hummed, meeting his taunting expression of challenge with one of her own. “Well, I’m going to insist that you stop by afterward in order to prove that to me.”

He smiled down at her, another message alerting from his phone, indicating it was past time for him to go.

“As you wish.”

Chapter Two - Coming Soon!

Tagging the Curious Crew: (add to tag list)

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