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caraetdeul · 4 months ago

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Checkmate, I Couldn't Lose

Jeon Wonwoo x fem!reader

You have a secret to tell and what's a better way to confess than through a toast during your wedding's reception?

TW: none other than Wonwoo's killer looks cuz that's a warning on itself.

A/n: this was supposed to be posted weeks ago but I never got to finishing it. And now that I have to cram on so many projects, my brain has decided that its time for the creative juices to push through my writer's block. This was also a sort of reprieve from the amount of angst that I wrote in Tolerate It so hopefully I did good. Anyways, enjoy reading caratdeul!

~Main Masterlist~

The cheers of your loved ones as they dance on the floor. The clinking of champagne glasses together as they congratulate you on a new life. The cold breeze on your white gown as you sway to a waltz rhythm with your husband close to your chest. Your arms around his shoulders and his hands settled on your hips.

It was the night of your lives and it was perfect.

You were well into the reception of your wedding. And honestly, you were having too much fun that you were sure you wouldn’t have a detailed recollection of everything that happened so far. It was a blur of happy faces and celebrations. But if there was one thing you will remember the most, it was the feeling of walking down the aisle, bouquet in hand, slowly inching towards the wonderful life that you will have with Wonwoo as your husband.

Now here you were, in each other’s arms as you swayed to the wedding playlist you both had a hand in creating (he knows that it was 1% his songs and the other 99% was yours but he also knows that you’ve been dreaming of a perfect wedding since you were a kid and he won’t be a hindrance to that). You can see the reflection of your wedding bands on the corner of your eye and you swear that you’ve never seen something shine as brightly as the ones you always see in your lover’s eyes up until now.

You would’ve danced the night away but alas, the event’s host has other plans. The music slowly faded to make way for the host to announce that it was time for some toasts.

Wonwoo huffed, “Do we really have to?”

“Oh honey,” you giggled, kissing the pout on his lips which made him smile, “We both know we won’t be leaving this place without hearing your drunk aunt’s speech about how you were so little when she first met you and how cute you looked in your little dia—”

“Okay, you can stop now,” he blushed, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, “Please tell me she actually won’t say any of that tonight.”

You just shrugged teasingly, earning another groan from him. Hand in hand, you led him back to your seats, laughing as he begged you for any reassurance that he wouldn’t be embarrassed any time soon. You then promptly shushed him when he tried bribing you with something about your honeymoon that you would rather not say in public.

That little shit, you thought as you narrowed your eyes at his smirk. You stopped yourself from slapping the smug look off of his face when he saw your face warming up, fully knowing where your mind had gone the moment he said it.

You were cut off from your thoughts when your sister went up on the stage, officially starting the toasts. You both settled in your chair with Wonwoo’s arm around your shoulder. Inhaling deeply, the two of you start to brace yourselves from the onslaught of inside jokes and nostalgic memories from your closest family and friends.

As each loved one went through their speech, you slowly started to feel your hands clam up with nerves. You didn’t even notice your leg bouncing until you felt Wonwoo’s hand on top of it. You glanced at him only to be met with his brows furrowed in concern. You shook your head with a smile, silently reassuring him that you were fine. He nodded in response before turning back to his father who was currently giving his own toast.

Ending with a lovely note to the wedded couple, your father-in-law gave the mic back to the host before going down the stage. You took multiple deep breaths to calm your nerves as you reached for the glass of water in front of you. Wonwoo watched in concern as you gulped down every last drop before putting the glass down.

“Hey,” he whispered, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nodded, “Yep. Just stage fright getting on my nerves.”

He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head in confusion, “What do you mean stage fright?”

You were about to answer him when you heard the host finally call you up on stage. You could feel Wonwoo’s eyes following you as you stood up and got on the stage. You thanked the host as they gave you the mic before finally facing everyone.

“Hi,” you started nervously, chuckling when everyone actually responded hello back to you.

“First of all, I want to thank each and every one of you for giving us your precious time to come here and celebrate with us on this very special day. This ceremony wouldn’t have been as happy as it is right now if any one of you were not here tonight.” you smiled, doing your best to make eye contact with as many people as possible.

“To all of those people who know me best, it’s probably a huge shock for them to see me standing here on stage and actually talking in front of a huge crowd,” you laughed, “To be fair though, I’m trying my best not to actually jump off the stage and run out of here. One of the two reasons that’s stopping me from doing that right now is the fact that I can’t really run in these heels and I would rather die than actually let you all see me trip and fall.”

A chorus of laughter echoed throughout the hall. As the laughter dies down, so do your nerves a little bit. You thanked the heavens above for still having humor as your coping mechanism before continuing with your speech.

“As for the other reason, well…” you said, your voice gradually softening. You faced Wonwoo properly as you announced, “It’s because I have a confession to make.”

You licked your lips nervously. You watched as Wonwoo glanced at your parents, puzzled over what was happening but he was only met with the same uncertainty from them. He looked back at you with worry written all over his face. You have to stop yourself from swooning over the fact that you knew he was more worried about your well-being than whatever you were about to say.

“Love, I haven’t really been honest with you,” you sighed, “In fact, I haven’t been truly honest with you ever since we first met.”

~~~~~

You were late.

Well technically, you weren’t but you only had about 10 minutes before the movie starts and you’re still 2 blocks away from the theatre. Now, you were running for your life just so you could arrive on time and frankly, you didn’t really want to die in the hands of your best friend if she ever caught you late again.

You were nearing the entrance to the theatre when you saw your best friend Lila standing with 2 guys in front, the three of them seemingly distracted with whatever they were talking about. Once you were close enough, Lila finally looked up from their conversation. Her face lit up upon recognizing you, greeting you with her iconic bear hug. You were about to return the hug when she suddenly smacked you on the arm.

“Ow! What the hell?” you exclaimed, rubbing your arm.

“You’re late,” Lila grumbled, crossing her arms.

“I know, I’m sorry,” you whined, “I accidentally fell asleep watching Netflix and by the time I woke up, I knew that I would have to run to actually get here on time.”

“Fine, but you’re paying for the popcorn,” she huffed.

You groaned, “Okay, fair enough.”

Taking out your wallet, you were suddenly reminded of the fact that you two weren’t alone when one of them cleared their throat, successfully catching both of your attention. You looked up from your bag to the taller guy among the two.

“Well, Lila?” he asked, “Aren’t you going to introduce us to your lovely friend over here?”

“Oh right,” Lila chuckled. She then introduced you to the two and vice versa. The guy that just spoke was Mingyu and the other one—

Oh my fucking god.

The other one was breathtaking.

Is it possible that you were just so out of it from running that you were hallucinating an angel? You’re probably just hallucinating things but you were sure that actual flowers and hearts were floating around him like some cliche rom-com anime scene. Maybe the lack of oxygen was finally getting to your brain. That’s definitely more plausible than whatever is actually standing right in front of you. Because goddamnit, that face is too immaculate to be a real human being.

Now, that’s just fucking unfair to the minority.

“What’s unfair to the minority?”

“What?”

And that’s when you actually notice that Mr. Born To Kill Me With His Face—you think his name was Wonwoo as far as you can remember before you got too caught up with your thoughts—was already looking at you with a smirk. Your face warmed up with embarrassment when you realized that he caught you staring at him, amusement written all over his face. Thankfully you were saved by the bell when Lila tugged you towards the theatre complaining about the movie already starting without you and you still haven’t bought any popcorn yet, effectively stopping you from making more of a fool out of yourself.

Dazed, you let her pull you towards the snack bar but not before you glanced back at Wonwoo, walking behind you alongside Mingyu. Catching his eye, you immediately turn back to face the counter. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you were the one who caught him staring at you just now and not the other way around. You smiled to yourself at the thought.

Once you got the food and drinks, you then made your way inside. Getting to your seats, you sat between Lila and Wonwoo. A mere coincidence to everyone but you. And as you gaze at him from the corner of your eye, his face being illuminated by the rainbow of colors from the screen, you have decided right then and there that you are getting this man one way or another and no one can stop you.

So if you accidentally brush hands with him as you reach for the popcorn you share, if you mistakenly take his drink instead of yours which was on your other side, if you subconsciously lean towards him as you laugh at a joke made by the actors in the movie, there’s nothing to say except it’s all just a mere coincidence.

~~~~~

“And that’s just the beginning of a long and tedious process of stealing your heart,” you grinned.

You started sharing memories of you two where you deliberately changed the course of your relationship. Throughout your speech, you tried your best to avoid looking directly at Wonwoo. The fear of seeing any trace of disappointment and disgust on his face from your actions kept you from making eye contact with him. But that didn’t stop you from confessing to every move you ever made. In fact, it only urged you to be honest more knowing that this is the only time you’ll have the guts to say all of these things. To be fair though, you probably should’ve said this in a more private manner but you can’t really do anything about it now that you’re almost done with sharing your stories.

Laughing as you shared a fond memory of you tricking your husband—then, boyfriend—into letting him think that his idea of your living room arrangement was all from him and not at all a perfectly timed series of suggestions from you, you raised your glass as you finish your toast, “Some of you may call me a genius and others may just think of me as some long con artist. But in all honesty, none of these would’ve ever happened if there wasn’t a single drop of love in between the both of us,. And with that, I want to toast to our married life. May this be a life that will serve as the epitome of our love for each other.”

A round of cheers and applause echoed across the hall as you stepped down from the stage and walked towards your seat beside Wonwoo. Biting your lip, you gazed at him, trying to gauge his reaction to your speech/confession. You didn’t know what to expect to hear from him after all of that but a wide smirk on his face as he whispered his own confession to you was definitely not one of them.

“I knew.”

“What? How?”

“You may be a mastermind but you definitely aren’t subtle enough.”

Wonwoo’s smirk widened even more as he witnessed your cheeks heating up from embarrassment, amused at the way you tried defending yourself. He chuckled before kissing you on the lips, effectively shutting you up.

Once he felt you relax under him, he pulled back a bit from you, far enough for him to watch as you tried to chase after his lips but not too far for you to not hear what he had to say next.

“I love you, my little machiavellian.”

You grinned widely, pecking his lips once more before replying, “I love you too.”

Taglist: @moonwonuu @belladaises @porridgesblog @sasaapportela @allys-reads @clownprincehoeshi @yoonzzziino @gyuguys

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strawberrysainz · 2 years ago

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pretty visitors. charles leclerc

“ at carlos and isa’s wedding, a certain someone can’t seem to take his eyes off of you. you can’t either. ”

charles leclerc x reader

a warning — crude language and alcohol consumption.

from leila; “a short little something for ya. xx”

The wedding photographer was calling Isa’s friends to come take a picture, and you downed the champagne you were holding, dropping your belongings on the table chaotically before rushing outside the tent to the beautiful lawn in the forefront of the vineyard.

It was a gorgeous Spanish summer evening, absolutely perfect conditions to hold a wedding, and you couldn’t help but get a little emotional with nostalgia when you see Isa laughing in the glow of the early evening, remembering the chaos of your early twenties trying to learn Spanish from her, then going to work in motorsport- where your personal and work lives crossed when you accidentally introduced Carlos to Isa.

You hugged her again, surrounded by all of these lovely women from all over, and she kissed your cheek.

“Tu es si belle [you are so beautiful],” you say in French, pursing your lips trying not to cry again, and everyone agrees loudly, emotional on the champagne.

“Shut up,” Isa says. “I’ve tried not to cry the whole day and now you might make me.” You laugh, and everyone follows.

Many pictures are taken, and more champagne is poured while the newlyweds walk around, grasping hands.

You head back to the table to get your phone quickly, wanting to take pictures of the gradual setting sun, when you see Charles putting his things down next to your seat. “Ah, you are my seat buddy?” You say, smiling, and he brings you in for a hug. “Ravi de vous voir [nice to see you]” he answers with a peck to your cheeks, and you pick up your phone. “Please can I take a picture of you and Carlos!” You shout, slightly tipsy, yielding it, and he rolls his eyes. “Don’t you dare send it to the social media team.”

You wink.

Eventually you manage to get Carlos with him to take a picture while the sun sets, and someone’s aunt comes to snatch your phone. “Ve a estar con ellos [go be with them],” your rusty Spanish helps you, and you go to stand in the middle; Charles taps Carlos. “Kiss her cheek!”

You laugh when they both smush their lips on your cheeks, giggling uncontrollably as the auntie grins from behind your phone.

Someone gets Isa to join in, running in between them to kiss you on the lips, and Carlos gasps dramatically. “Ay! Ay why do you steal my bride?”

You nearly can’t breathe when you get your phone back, cooing at the photos you got.

💌💋💐💿🍓

Dinner flies by; you’re seated with Charles, Lando, Daniel and Heidi, a few of your friends from the paddock, and from home, and their partners. You laugh and get progressively more drunk as the night continues.

You find yourself resting your cheek against Charles’ for Lando’s camera, and your smile is wide and real.

Eventually the first dance happens, and suddenly you’re all dancing, and then the stronger drinks are distributed, and the night gets more fun.

You find yourself dancing with Charles, spinning and jumping, and your silky dress is a blur, his grinning face imprinted in your mind.

Eventually you stop, going outside for a breather, and he follows you.

The alcohol has finally hit you like a train, and your smile is bright and boozy as you sit on the grass in the fresh night air.

He sits down next to you, eyes droopy, and you rest your head on his shoulder with a drunken huff.

A slow song is playing from inside, and he stands up unsteadily, pulling you up, and he dances with you, swaying slowly.

You gaze into his eyes, heart beating wildly in that way only this night could describe.

“Tu es incroyablement belle [you are incredibly beautiful],” he whispers, and your eyes soften.

Daniel calls for the two of you loudly, and you reply, breaking away with a reluctance you didn’t realise you had.

The party carries on, Lando stealing the DJ’s job, and you find yourself stealing glances at Charles every moment you can get, looking away hurriedly when he does the same.

“There’s something about a wedding, no?” A friend shouts in your ear, and you giggle, nodding.

Charles brushes your arm about an hour later at the bar, ordering something strong, and he murmurs something too soft in your ear for you to hear. His lips on your ear make you shiver though, so when his fingers grasp your arm you nearly lose yourself in him.

“Charles,” you slur. “I’m too drunk to kiss you right now.”

He cackles then, and loses his balance; you grab him with an equally loud laugh.

“I know, me too. Tomorrow. I promise.” He says, and kisses your cheek. You hug him tight then, whispering promises of forever.

💌💋💐💿🍓

A pounding headache wakes you up the next morning, two of your friends next to you in the king sized bed. You yawn, getting up to make coffee and get something to help with the hangover.

After you resemble a functional being, you try to look through the mess of the villa to find your nearly-dead phone, where texts from Charles from last night await you.

4:23

Noo why did you go to b Ed

Lando and i are still shooting Jägers

4:56

i think I wil L go to bed later now maybe

Borin G without you

5:20

Fuck I got ya be awake soon

Nibht night

9:50

Please don’t read any of that please

Gonna go get some croissants and orange juice please find a 🍾 so we can make some mimosas i want to drink still lol

We can have a nice brunch thing by the patio

Save me a kiss

The last text leaves you somewhat bashful, and you try to rake a hand through your knotted hair, yawning, opening the fridge to get a bottle of champagne and two glasses to set on the counter.

A knock on the door some minutes later makes you grab the things and take them to greet him. He sets down a blanket on the grass; you put down the bottle and glasses next to his bag of fresh croissants.

“I’m sorry I’m still in my pyjamas,” you laugh, and the smirk on his face makes you blush. “I think you look cute.”

“Cute enough for a kiss?” You say, scrunching your nose, and he hands you the mimosa.

“The cutest.”

His kiss brought the sun, and you could bask in it forever.

💌💋💐💿🍓

yourinstagram

holy shit my besties got married, isa & carlos may your love last forever. proudest to know you. also you know im serious when there’s an outfit change 🖤

tagged: isahernaez, carlossainz55

landonorris you were the worst bridesmaid

username y/n living my life rn

danielricciardo enchanté

username AWWWW … but who that 🥸

username i may be delulu but that could be mr charles himself…..

isahernaez ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

charlesleclerc

you guys finally got married. beautiful beautiful couple ❤️‍🔥

username HOL UP THATS yourinstagram BLACK DRESS ???????

carlossainz55 can’t drink jägerbombs again after you mate

username 😳😳😳😳 Y/N??????

username charles you are NOT subtle

heidiberger_ thanks for being the photographer! lando was awful

landonorris girl????

lando.jpg

going to the chapel and we’re….

username THAT IS Y/N’S BLACK DRESS AND CHARLES HAIR. OMFG

author’s note — if you have requests, feel free to send in! 💌

masterlist

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 x you #charles leclerc imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc drabble #f1 one shot #f1 fic #f1

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 1 year ago

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Making Arrangements Part One

Masterlist | Part Two

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only. Any minors interacting will be blocked.

Length: 6.1K

Notes: It's a two-shot! Part two will have explicit content.

No beta, we die like Billy Kimber

Warnings: Arranged marriage; mentions of prostitution; canon-typical attitudes toward sex; slow burn; enemies to allies to lovers; Reader has a brother and an aunt; no physical descriptions of non-canon characters; Reader gets drunk

Summary: If you’d been involved with anyone, if there’d ever been a hint or a whisper of a beau recently, you might’ve been able to plead differently for your future.

But you knew as well as your family that this was your best move, and with no great love waiting in the wings, there was nothing to be done but to marry the man. You secured your interests, the interests of your family. You gained a powerful ally—but you also gained powerful enemies.

“D’you think you could bother to give them a smile?”

On the face of it, it seemed a fair question, but all things considered, it made you want to punch Thomas Michael Shelby squarely in the jaw. You didn’t, of course—that conduct would be unbecoming of a bride in front of her new family.

You’d been getting knowing looks from the women all night—pursed lips from Ada and Polly, and a wide smile from Esme. It was almost wolf-like, the way she watched you—welcome to the pack.

“I could,” You conceded, nodding, casting your gaze around the party. The revels had only just begun. It was early enough that nearly everyone was coherent, on their feet, but you knew that in just a couple of hours, the party would likely turn to shit. These people would be drunk, coked out of their minds, dancing, and flirting…Probably fucking. You had no doubt that you would be expected to do your wifely chore that evening.

Maybe that was why a permanent frown had been fixed on your lips from the time you’d put on your wedding dress, as you’d walked down the aisle, all the way through the fucking I Dos.

“You’re still frowning.”

You didn’t bother to hide your eye roll before you turned your head fully to look at him. He didn’t give you the same courtesy. He watched the revelers with the same bored speculation as you’d given them just moments ago.

“And this is what your fucking grin looks like?” You snipped. He raised his cigarette to his lips, drawing in a deep drag that sank his cheeks. He managed to cast you a knowing glance, his brow raising.

“It’s the most that you’ll get of me tonight.”

“And of me. Don’t ask me to stoop to something that you won’t bother with. I’m your wife now. At least pretend to respect me in front of them,” You insisted, nodding toward the others. It took him a moment, but Tommy nodded.

“And behind closed doors?” He asked.

“That’ll be none of their concern. And you’ll have to take it up with me later.”

“I intend to.”

You sat on the edge of the bed, and watched. All Tommy did was light up another damn cigarette. You weren’t sure if you married a man or a chimney.

You could hardly believe that you had married the man at all.

Your family had never been a big player in Birmingham, or Camden. You’d kept your head down, stayed out of the way, operated cleanly. When the Shelbys had come to you with a proposition, it hadn’t been for your minor operations in the UK—it had been for your connections in America. They were looking to expand, offered you a good deal, and a union between the two households.

When it had first been brought to your attention, you’d thought that it was a pretty good idea. But when it came down the line that Thomas Shelby had specified an interest in marrying you, well—the thought had become less and less appealing. If you’d cared less for your family, or known less about the mounting tensions that they were facing overseas, you would’ve laughed the idea off. If you’d been involved with anyone, if there’d ever been a hint or a whisper of a beau recently, you might’ve been able to plead differently for your future.

But you knew as well as your family that this was your best move, and with no great love waiting in the wings, there was nothing to be done but to marry the man.

You secured your interests, the interests of your family. You gained a powerful ally—but you also gained powerful enemies.

Tommy had spoken to you only once before your wedding day. The meeting had been brief, and he’d done all of the talking. He’d promised to protect you, sworn to never raise a hand against you.

“You know as well as I do,” He’d insisted, “That this is the best way forward for our families. And I know,” He’d leaned in a touch, “That you want what’s best for your people.” He’d reached into his pocket and drawn out a small velvet box, setting it on the table before he stood, straightening his waistcoat.

“You have until tomorrow night. I need an answer.”

You’d sent him your reply—a single slip of paper sent with your brother Lewis that simply read: Yes

“...It was a nice party,” You offered now, unable to stand the silence any longer.

“You didn’t seem to particularly enjoy it.”

“No one left with a bullet wound. In my family, we consider that a successful bash.”

Tommy’s lips quirked just a touch as he nodded.

“Our brothers seemed to get on,” You hedged, desperate to draw this out. You worried that once you stopped speaking, he may…Want to consummate the marriage. You weren’t sure how you felt about that. You’d heard rumors, whispers that Tommy was a good lover, but you weren’t sure that you were ready to find that out yourself.

“They did,” Tommy nodded again. “Lewis and John already seem thick as thieves.”

“Yes.”

The two of you fell into quiet again, and it was a harrowing few moments before Tommy pushed himself off of the dresser. Your hands dropped instinctively to the bed, grasping at the sheets—but Tommy turned and went for the door.

“G’night, then.”

Your brow furrowed as you glanced around. Goodnight? But—

“Where will you sleep?”

Tommy stopped in the open doorway, nodding behind himself. “I’ve a room down the hall.” He turned away, adding, “Shout if you need something.”

You hesitated a few moments longer before you sprung up, darting forward and shoving the door closed before locking it. You drew in a deep breath, closing your eyes and letting your forehead rest against the dark, cool wood grain.

He didn’t take.

You had gone into the room expecting shoving hands and a quick coupling, but Tommy kept his distance. You weren’t sure if you were more relieved or insulted. You turned away from the door, leaning back against it and peering around your dim new living quarters.

Relieved, you decided.

Insulted, you decided.

Tommy had the gall to lean in and peck your cheek when he’d come down to breakfast that morning.

It took everything in you not to shove him away.

Polly made no comment on how wane you looked the next morning, nor did Ada or Esme cast you knowing grins or teases. They all watched Tommy, and the little slip of a shadow that you’d met last night—a birch-pale, dark-haired woman named Lizzie.

You didn’t think that the news had made it back to your family—the fact that your husband had just spent his first night as a newly-married man with a prostitute-turned-secretary while you slept alone in an unfamiliar room wearing the lacy nightie that you’d bought specifically for your honeymoon.

Esme and Ada excused themselves as quickly as they could, but Polly lingered, and offered,

“He’s a prickly sort, and these things take time. Men have their needs and urges.”

“...Right,” You pronounced crisply as you stirred some sugar into your tea, “And I’m a novice in a nunnery.”

“You should’a seen the girls at the party last night,” Lewis groaned.

For all of your irritation during the last few days, you’d been happy, truly happy to see your family enjoying themselves. Carving out your space in the literary scene of London and running a few underground print shops wasn’t exactly a serene existence. You constantly had to move operations, vet workers, stop-up leaks in production cycles and deal with snitches. Your entire family was dedicated to the business, but your brother was the most determined of the lot. Lewis had become the man of the house at a young age, after your father had been hauled into prison for treason.

So to see him let loose a little—well, more than a little, truth be told—was a heartening sight.

“I don’t think I would’ve quite enjoyed them the way you did,” You raised a brow, smile widening as he ducked his head bashfully, “But I’m glad you had a good time.”

“And you?”

The pointed question came from just behind you. You didn’t dare turn to look at your Aunt Pearl. She knew you far too well. You could hide your feelings and concerns well enough from Lew—you had plenty of practice. But Pearl had been a motherly figure, a guiding hand in what would’ve been an otherwise rudderless life. She learned to read you like an open book when you were young, and you had been powerless to change the way that she understood you, even as the seasons of your life had passed.

You turned your head back toward her just a touch, biting the inside of your cheek as you waited for her to go on. It was a few moments of quiet before she urged: “Lewis, go get some air.”

You drew a deep breath in through your nose, fighting to steady yourself, and giving Lewis an encouraging smile and nod before he stood, pushing away from the kitchen table and heading outside. You saw him tipping his head back toward you, trying to catch on the line of questions that Pearl was about to level—as if neither of you knew any better to wait until he was fully out of earshot.

“Who’s Lizzie?” She finally asked. You weren’t sure how to answer at first. You scrubbed your hand over the back of your neck, making sure that you heard the door shutting behind Lewis.

“It’s just…Growing pains,” You finally offered, gaze set stalwartly on the table. “Every couple has them.”

“Where was he last night?”

“How should I know?” “He’s your husband. You’re supposed to know.”

You didn’t have a chance to argue before she strode closer, her hand resting on your shoulder. You didn’t flinch, or draw away. You were used to her hand on your shoulder, her nails digging into your skin. She didn’t dig her nails in just now—she merely rested and waited.

“Growing pains,” You finally offered again as you looked straight ahead. It was as if Polly had her hand on your other shoulder, and was staring you down in warning.

“Pains?” Pearl repeated. “Physical?”

You don’t want to answer, but—

“Emotional,” You blurted. It was another moment of quiet before she hummed. You stopped yourself from turning to look at Pearl—to catch the no doubt heavy judgment in her dark eyes, and the twist of displeasure to her small mouth.

“I see.”

“It’s early,” You insisted. She hummed again, stepping around you to walk toward the window. It didn’t take much to glance over, to see where Lewis was playfully fighting with John and Finn.

“Do they know?” Pearl asked.

“About where he was?” You shook your head. “I’m sure his brothers do.”

“And?”

“And what?” You scoffed. “It’s no business of theirs. Our marriage is between myself and Thomas.”

Pearl turned to face you with a crisp smoothness, her eyes narrowed as she cocked a hip.

“And that’s all you have to say about it?” She asked. You pursed your lips. You had plenty to say about it, but it would land on deaf ears. Any of Pearl’s meddling would spell trouble, and you weren’t about to sic the dogs less than twenty-four hours into wedded bliss.

“Yes,” You nodded firmly. Pearl’s eyes narrowed further before she hummed, turning back toward the window.

“...This is good for us, Pearl,” You reminded her. “The Shelby’s are strong, they know what they’re doing. I just have to hold up my end.”

“And what end is that?”

“That of a doting wife.”

“And mother?”

Doubtful. Thomas couldn’t even be bothered to touch you as it was. But it was early, you reminded yourself. Things could still change. Things would change. They had to.

“Perhaps,” You leveled evenly. “Someday. Time will tell.”

“Time,” Peal repeated, nodding as she rounded you. “Well, if we’re going on time, so far, you’re not managing it particularly well.”

You slid down in your seat a little as Pearl finally left the dining room. Your interest in the day’s paper had been sapped; your tea had gone cold. You didn’t want anything to do with Thomas Shelby, or with his family, not anymore. If you were going to make it through at least one year of marriage, you needed to nip this in the bud.

“I need to talk to you.”

Tommy didn’t so much as glance at you, his gaze trained steadily on a horse. You waited a moment, shifting from foot to foot, but perhaps you shouldn’t have waited. You’d spent nearly two weeks waiting. Maybe he hadn't heard you? You stepped a little closer and raised a hand to touch him. You couldn’t bring yourself to make contact, and your hand curled in on itself just before it could brush his waistcoat.

“Thomas?” You pressed.

“I’m busy.”

“When can we speak, then?”

“Tonight.”

Certain that he meant it earnestly, you turned away and left.

But the evening came and went, and you found yourself sitting alone, stewing in front of your uneaten dinner and eyeing his empty plate. The house was too quiet, and your thoughts were far too loud. You needed to clear your buzzing head—you wanted a drink, and some fun.

“You can’t let them push you around.”

The warning was spoken knowingly. You knew that she was right, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet Esme’s eye. Her gaze was so heavy, so all-knowing—nothing like the bright, uninterested gaze that Thomas often offered you. But Esme was having none of it. She dipped her head into your field of vision and clapped her hand over yours where it rested on the table beside your drink. You shook her hand away lightly, reaching for your drink instead. Maybe coming to the office to nip out of the bottle Polly kept in her desk had been a bad idea. But you couldn’t bring yourself to just sit in that house and rot in your anger.

“No one is pushing me anywhere,” You grumbled.

Esme let out a soft, cruel chuckle.

“I know what it is,” She insisted, “To come into this family and feel on the outside, feel that you don’t have a voice. Becomin’ a Shelby doesn’t erase who you were before.” She reached out again, taking up your drink and drawing in a deep pull before you could argue. As annoyed as you were, you knew that she was right. You nodded slowly, topping the glass up when she set it back down.

“...Should I not bother replacing Polly’s alcohol, then?”

Esme’s smile grew as yours did, and the two descended into quiet giggles.

“We need to talk.”

It was steely when it left you this time. Despite that, Thomas still paid you no mind. In fact, he went out of his way to take his time drawing on his cigarette before fishing into his waistcoat. He pointedly drew out his pocket watch, flipping it open and eyeing the time. The tick tick tick of the second hand passed for several long moments before he flipped it shut again, lifting his gaze to the hustle and bustle of the office around him.

“Later,” He offered.

Later, always later. Weeks of later, of hearing Lizzie’s footsteps and the creaking across the floor as she left the house before you were up and about for the morning. Weeks of sitting alone in that empty house, putting on a brave face for Pearl and Lewis. Weeks of anger and shame eating through your gut.

“Now,” You spat.

He turned his head toward you, brows ticking up. You could feel the pace of the others in the shop around you slow just a bit, and speeding up again as Thomas shot them a glance.

“Alright,” He murmured, resting his hand on your lower back. You let him steer you toward his office, resolute in your irritation. He opened the door for you, waving you inside and shutting the door behind the two of you.

“What is so urgent that you pulled me away from my work?”

“Your work of watching other people count your money?” You quipped in irritation.

“...What is it that you want to discuss.”

“You need to keep your whoring private.”

Thomas’s brows jumped with intrigue, his chin tipping down toward you.

“Explain.”

“I understand that we went into this with our eyes open and a mutual understanding that the actions that we were taking were for the good of our families, but to the rest of the world, we are husband and wife. I will not ask you to stop your carrying on, as I can't imagine that you’d abide by it if I did, but keep it private. I will not step out on you publicly, and I expect to be given that same respect.”

Thomas blinked before he straightened, pushing away from the door and stubbing out his cigarette in an ashtray on the desk. He muttered something that you couldn’t hear, and you frowned.

“Pardon me?”

“Publicly,” He repeated firmly. “You said that you wouldn’t step out on me publicly.”

“I did,” You nodded.

“Do I get to know the lucky man’s name?”

Your face went hot with indignation. Was he trying to embarrass you? Whether he was or not, it was working. You folded your arms across your chest.

“You’re missing my point.”

“I take your point. You want me to treat you as my partner, and as my wife, you have that right.”

“And will you?”

“You can trust me to be discreet.”

“I don’t trust you to do anything.”

Thomas’ expression closed off, his eyes narrowing a touch, and your stomach twisted with nerves.

“And might I ask why.”

“What have you done to earn it? In our, what, two weeks of marriage, I have hardly seen you. You’ve made no point to acquaint me with your family or your business, and you’ve spent your nights down the hall with another woman. I’m not your wife, I’m a boarder.”

Thomas considered for a moment before he gave a short nod.

“I understand. I will make changes.” “Thomas—”

“I will.”

You pursed your lips together, pushing a sigh out through your nose before you gave a small nod of concession.

“Alright.”

“Anything else?”

“...No.” And, just to seal the deal, “Thank you for your time. And for listening.”

Thomas nodded, straightening up and opening the door for you. You strode toward it, and were nearly through before he rested a hand on your shoulder. You went still, turning your head toward him just a touch. Before you could get a good look at him, Thomas leaned in, brushing a kiss to your cheek. It was the most that he’d touched you since he’d kissed you the morning after your wedding. You thought that he may be making a show of affection for the office, but Thomas turned his head, brushing his lips against your ear.

“If I ever find out that another man has touched you,” He murmured, “I’ll take off the bastard’s hands and give them to you as an anniversary present.”

You balked, shock wracking your chest as he placed a final kiss to your temple before he gave your ass a pat, spurring you into action and sending your scurrying back into the office, and out of his reach.

“It’ll be nice for you to fix up the place and make it your own,” Polly commented.

“She was always going to get around to it of course,” Pearl insisted. You didn’t dare look away from the row of dressers. The one that you had in your bedroom was fine, but it was a bit small. You’d ordered several new pieces of clothing on Tommy’s account—well, on your joint account. Giving the name Mrs. Shelby had incited stunned, wide eyes from the shop keeper’s assistant and prompted fawning and a healthy discount.

Still, as much as you were trying to bring your families together, you realized belatedly that in this case, it was an awful idea. Polly and Pearl had taken every opportunity to take digs at one another, leveling backhanded compliments with smug smiles and drags of their respective cigarettes. The two of them were so painfully similar, and perhaps that was why they seemed to hate one another so much.

“Of course,” Polly echoed placidly.

“I want this one,” You pointed to the one in front of you.

“I’ll find the assistant,” Polly offered, brushing past you. You sighed heavily, shaking your head.

“Please pull it together,” You muttered.

“I’ve nothing to pull together,” Pearl pronounced.

“Please,” You bit out again. “I can’t make any of this work if you and the others don’t, either.”

You heard a deep sigh, chased by the tapping of her cigarette ash beside you.

“I will be myself.”

“I don’t need you to be yourself, Pearl. I need you to be pleasant.”

A little knot of tension unwound as Pearl chuckled.

“Becoming a missus really has given you fangs.”

“I’d rather not use them, if possible.”

“I understand.”

“Thank you.”

“...Are you going to give Miss Sourpuss the same talking-to when she gets back?”

“Lord above.”

“You look like you’ve had a marvelous time.”

Bringing Pearl and Polly to a somewhat peaceful place had been shock enough for that evening, but this took the absolute biscuit.

You might’ve yelped in fear at the sound of his voice if you hadn’t spotted the burning cigarette in the ashtray mere seconds before he spoke. As it was, you didn’t answer right away. You plastered yourself against the backdoor, your hands curled around your key and your purse. Thomas just arched a brow, expectant and silent. He wasn’t supposed to be there. You’d been told that he had business, and you had figured that once that had concluded, he would take care of other…Matters. You'd thought you’d have the house to yourself and have a nice cuppa before going to bed.

You finally managed to push yourself forward, away from the door, your face hot with drink and embarrassment.

“I didn’t think you’d be in,” You admitted.

“You didn’t think I would be spending the evening in my own house?”

“Esme told me there was a family meeting. She said that they can run late.”

“You were misinformed.”

“Clearly.”

You watched Thomas warily as he drifted closer, going tense as he stepped around behind you. You hardly dared breathe for a moment, then let it out as you felt him slide your coat from your shoulders.

“Thank you,” You mumbled as he stepped away with it.

“Were you with Esme?” He asked, tossing your coat over the back of a chair.

“Mhm,” You nodded, taking a few steps deeper into the kitchen. “And Ada, Polly…And Pearl.”

“Where were you?”

“Polly’s house.”

“Mm.”

You watched Tommy round the counter, taking up a clean glass and a bottle of whiskey. You nodded, stepping closer. “Please.”

He poured a good amount before setting the glass on the table. You sat down, watching him do the same. The light in the kitchen was low, casting an orange glow about the room. You felt almost like you were being interrogated as Tommy tucked his cigarette between his lips for another drag. You took your drink up in turn, giving your hands something to do. Besides, finding your husband at home had harshly staunched your blissfully tipsy mood, and you were desperate to get it back. Tommy made no comment as you took a deep swig, and you fought away a wince at the taste and burned as you gulped it down greedily.

“How was the meeting?” You asked.

“Fine…Would you like to know what it’s about?”

“If you’d like to tell me.”

You figured he would let it go there, but he gave a short nod, offering: “We’ve reached a trade agreement with your man in New York.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“Lewis can fill you in on the particulars later.”

Your brows jumped. “Lewis was there?”

“The business concerned him, I made sure he was in attendance.”

“I’m sure he appreciated it.”

He hummed, leaning back in his seat. You took another deep swig from your glass, but you couldn’t bring yourself to draw your gaze away from Tommy’s. He seemed so relaxed—though, maybe it was absurd to find a man relaxed simply because he had removed his suit jacket. Still, he looked irritatingly dashing in his waistcoat.

“Tell me about yourself,” He ordered as you lowered your glass to the table. You cleared your throat, shaking your swimming head to try and clear that, too.

“Pardon me?”

“Well,” Tommy plucked up the bottle again, topping your glass up. “As you have reminded me, you are my wife. I ought to know something about you.”

“...Are you drunk?”

His lips quirked with a small smile. “No. But if you keep on like that, you will be.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“If you say so.”

“I do say so, thank you.”

“I have to be drunk to want to learn about my wife?”

My wife. It made you feel oddly warm as he said it…Though perhaps that was the whiskey.

“We didn’t exactly have the most conventional courtship, or wedding,” You reminded him.

“All the more reason for me to learn about you now.”

“I don’t know where to start.”

“How about with the things you like.”

“I will tell you,” You nod slowly, “But only if you tell me about yourself in turn.”

Thomas seemed to purse his lips before he sat up in his seat. He held his hand out, the gold of his wedding ring glinting in the light.

“You have a deal.”

You hesitated for a few moments, certain that he was putting you on. But when he didn’t draw it back, you raised your hand in turn, grasping his and giving it a shake.

The first hint of light made you wince and turn away. Your mouth was obscenely dry; your head was pounding harshly. You groaned, rolling away from the window. Oh…You did not feel good. Your head felt like it was going to burst; your stomach rolled like you were taking a rocky transatlantic crossing. Oh, god…Were you going to be sick?

You peeked an eye open, then squeezed it shut again. Oh, no. You weren’t sure which was worse, having your eyes open or keeping them closed. You hesitantly opened both eyes, then groaned more loudly, tucking your head beneath your pillow. No. Having your eyes open was definitely worse.

You heard a harsh thudding, as if a giant has managed to get into your room. What on earth—

The pillow lifted away, and you tipped your head up into the cool brush of fingertips against your forehead.

“How’s our Sleeping Beauty?”

You weren’t sure what flustered you more: the teasing tone of Tommy’s voice, or the way the word beauty sounded coming out of his mouth.

“Right as rain,” You mumbled. “Or I will be, once you stop yelling.”

His chuckle brushed your forehead.

“Pearl is on her way to look in on you. Apparently Esme is doing just as well as you are this morning.”

“I don’t wish this on my worst enemy.”

“Rest up.”

“I wasn't planning on doing anything else.”

“Good girl.”

Before you could ask, or argue, or throw a hand out to slap him on the shoulder, he brushed a kiss to your forehead, then drew away fully. You listened to the retreat of his footsteps, a pause, the scraping of the curtains being drawn closed, and the gentle scruuuuuuh—thump of him shutting your bedroom door behind himself. You only dared look around after a few minutes, when you were certain he was gone. You rolled onto your back, sighing and trying to ignore the thud-thud-thud behind your eyes.

You feel like hell, but last night was sort of…Nice.

Drinking with the girls and breaking down some of the barriers before your families had been a success, but coming home to Thomas was…New. It wasn’t unpleasant, as you would’ve previously thought. You scrubbed your hand gently across your eyes, trying to recall your conversation. You had it in bits and pieces—his love of horses, his devotion to his family, his worries for Arthur and John. You wondered if he told you those things because you’d been spifflicated that he didn’t think you’d remember a damn thing. But you remembered.

You remembered the almost kind way that he’d smiled at you a couple of times. You remembered the way he’d taken your hand and led you up the stairs, steadying you when you’d wobbled and taken uneasy steps. You remembered him turning his back as you’d gotten undressed, waiting for you to get into bed before bidding you a goodnight.

A knocking on the door drew you up from your recollection, and you winced at the sound.

“Yes?” You croaked. The door opened, and to your surprise, two heads poked through.

“You’re in a state,” Polly chuckled before Pearl opened your door the rest of the way. The two entered your room, each eyeing the furnishings that were soon to be replaced. You pushed yourself up, wincing as your head spun.

“Had a night, did you?” Pearl settled onto the bed beside you.

“Could you lower your voice, please,” You grumbled.

“Did you go right to bed when you came home?”

“I meant to.”

“But you didn’t?” Polly chimed in.

“No.” You winced as you raised your voice just a touch. “I…I had a conversation with my husband.”

Polly and Pearl cast one another curious glances, so unlike the cutting looks they’d leveled at one another just a couple of days ago.

“It was fine,” You added. “It was…” Nice? Enlightening? Something you would be happy to have again? “Cordial.”

“Was he drinking?” Polly plied.

“We both were.”

Polly and Pearl each hissed, chased by sympathetic tuts.

“You should’ve quit while you were ahead,” Pearl admonished.

“I certainly know that now.”

Polly took another look at you before she patted Pearl’s shoulder, offering, “I’ll put the kettle on.”

“You’re a saint,” Pearl smiled. You sagged back against the headboard, scrubbing a hand over your brow as Polly disappeared.

“Since when are the two of you so friendly?” You asked. Pearl shrugged.

“We’ve come to an understanding…As you have with your husband, apparently.”

“I think it may be a very different kind of understanding.”

“D’you mind if I smoke?”

“...I don’t mean to sound harsh, but if you smoke, Pearl, I will be sick.”

“Better out than in.”

“Please, no.”

It wasn’t every night—it wasn’t even most nights, but you began to spend time with Thomas. It started with him coming home just as you finished dinner, and progressed to Thomas making it home just in time for dinner. Conversation wasn’t always freely flowing, and a few of those first dinners were a little quiet, and awkward. But as you spent more and more time together, those silences became more and more rare, and when conversation wilted, the quiet was comfortable.

You still slept apart, but for the life of you, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d heard Lizzie creeping out of the house as you awoke. Maybe she’d managed to work out which floorboards didn’t creak; maybe Thomas had stopped having her in the house…Or having her at all.

You were certain that the second possibility was the most likely. It still wasn’t the ideal situation, but you appreciated it all the same. Not only had Thomas kept his promise and been discreet, but he was taking the pains to distance you from his romantic liaisons. It was…Almost sweet, all things considered.

“...What are you reading?”

You jolted at the question, sucking in a gasp and dropping the manuscript that had been in your hand. Thomas’ brows rose as he walked deeper into the sitting room.

“You scared me,” You grumbled. “How long have you been here?”

“A few minutes. I called out twice when I came in.”

“Oh,” You frowned. “I’m sorry, I must not have heard you.”

“Clearly.”

He walked deeper into the room, taking up the fallen manuscript and sitting on the green velvet settee beside you. You let your gaze linger, sweeping over him. His jacket had always been removed, though his waistcoat was still intact. His cool eyes swept over the page, brow furrowing a touch as he took in the content. His head began to turn toward you, and you hurriedly stood, rounding to the bar cart.

“Would you like a drink?” You asked.

“Sure.”

You plucked up the bottle of whiskey, uncapping it and pouring a good amount. You rounded back to him, holding the glass out. He crossed his legs, resting the manuscript against it before he took the drink with one hand, patting the seat beside him with the other. You lowered yourself back down hesitantly, acutely aware of the way your thighs brushed.

“What is this?” He asked, nodding toward the pages.

“A book that was sent to us.”

“Topside?”

You smiled a little. Topside was how your family had always referred to the legitimate side of your publishing operations. You were certain that you and the others had said it around Tommy and his family before, but you were surprised he remembered.

“Yes,” You nodded.

“D’you like it?”

“Ah…” You considered before you blew softly between your lips. “I’ve read worse.”

“I’m not sure if that’s an indictment or praise.”

You chuckled. “It’s got a good frame, but the writing is unpolished. Could be good, with a little bit of work.”

“Will you work on it yourself?”

“I may. Need something to do with my time.” It felt like the wrong thing to say as soon as you said it—but Thomas simply hummed, turning the page as he lifted his drink to his lips.

“Redecorating hasn’t been enough of a challenge?” He asked after a moment.

“Well it was, but I’m nearly through. The only room in the house that I haven’t touched is yours.”

“And why is that?” His eyes slid toward you, and the sudden shock of blue made your stomach flip. You shrugged a little, shaking your head.

“I didn’t think you’d want me to.”

Thomas nodded before he turned back to the pages. The two of you fell into silence, and you leaned in a little, reading over his shoulder.

“...Dinner’ll be ready soon,” You told him after a few moments. He nodded, blowing smoke out of the side of his mouth, away from you.

“What’re we having?”

“Roast chicken.”

“Vegetables?”

“Potatoes and carrots.”

“Gravy?”

“Of course. I’m not an animal.”

Thomas huffed a soft laugh through his nose. He turned his head toward you a little, his lips brushing your temple. The touch made your eyes slide closed, your stomach fluttering at the sensation. You were so caught up that you nearly missed what he said next:

“We’re going to London tomorrow.”

You frowned, glancing up toward him. “Why?”

“I’ve a meeting.”

“A meeting that involves me?”

“I want you with me.” He turned his head a little more, nuzzling lightly against your hair. “Besides, it’ll be good for you to get out of the house for a bit.”

“I get out enough.”

“I think you could do with a bit more.”

You hummed thoughtfully before you leaned away, patting his thigh lightly.

“I’ll go check on the bird.”

You only managed to get up and take a single step before Thomas caught hold of your hand. You glanced back as he raised it to his lips, brushing a tender kiss to your knuckles. The action was so small, yet so intimate that it made your breath catch in your throat. He gave your hand a squeeze before letting go of it, letting his arm drift up to rest on the settee. You turned away, hurrying toward the kitchen.

Once you were alone, you braced your hands on the counter, drawing in a deep breath and pushing it out again. Your skin seemed to tingle where he kissed it, and you glanced down, as if you could see some discernible change. You shook your head, shaking your hand before you turned to the oven.

Dinner, get dinner together. You could worry about Thomas’ touch and the trip to London later.

Next Part

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#Tommy Shelby x Reader #Tommy Shelby x You #Tommy Shelby/Reader #Tommy Shelby/You #Tommy Shelby fic #Tommy Shelby imagine #Making Arrangements

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redrose10 · 3 months ago

Text

Sorry this has taken so long…Here is #10 from the picture game. I hope it’s okay!

Warnings: Angst, slightly suggestive, hints of loosing virginity, small mentions of death and seeing a therapist as well as mental health struggles, cheating , swearing, mention of divorce

September 8th, 2003

To Whomever It May Concern,

My name is Min Yoongi. I live in Daegu. I am in the fifth grade. My hobbies include basketball, music, and sleeping. My teacher said that we have to write a letter that will be sent to a random pen pal. I think it’s a dumb idea but it’s mandatory. So here it is.

September 15th, 2003

Dear Yoongi,

My name is L/N Y/N. I received your letter. I also think this is dumb but I need the extra credit so here I am. I am also in the fifth grade. I like to cook with my grandma. I love animals and purple is my favorite color. I look forward to hearing from you again.

You laughed as you read over the wrinkled faded letters one by one. At the time you did think that writing to a pen pal was the dumbest idea that your teacher came up with specifically to torture you. The guy you were writing was cute at least. The attached school photo showing a gummy smile and beautiful eyes. At the time you didn’t know how much that letter would become a part of your life.

November 1st, 2003

Dear Y/N,

What do you like to cook? I don’t cook much but I love when my mom makes kimchi stew. It’s starting to get cold. I hope that you are able to stay warm.

November 12th, 2003

Dear Yoongi,

It is getting colder which makes it the perfect weather for kimchi stew. It’s almost time for Christmas. That’s my favorite time of the year. Do you have a favorite Christmas Movie? Mine is Home Alone.

December 11th, 2003

Dear Y/N,

My favorite Christmas movie is also Home Alone. I prefer to listen to Christmas music but I will deny it if anyone asks. Do you have a favorite song?

August 14, 2005

Dear Yoongi

I’m sorry that I never wrote you back. We moved and I lost your address. I just found it again though, if you even still live here. You don’t have to write me back if you don’t want to. I just always felt bad for leaving you hanging without an explanation.

By the way…my favorite Christmas song is Jingle Bell Rock.

You remembered that time of your life. Your parents got divorced and you moved in with your mom. Your grandma suddenly passed away not long after. Your best friend moved across the country too. It felt like your life was falling apart and you wanted some sense of normalcy so when you came across Yoongi’s address you decided to write him even if you thought you might die from embarrassment. You folded those letters back up and gently put them back at the bottom white wooden chest in front of you.

September 9th, 2005

Dear Y/N,

I wondered what happened to you. I didn’t mind. They didn’t make me write letters any more at least haha. I’m glad you’re okay though. I just got back from my cousins wedding. It was very boring. If I ever get married I’m going to wear a blue kangaroo onesie or something, ya know to spice it up a little. Have you ever thought about getting married?

October 12th, 2005

Dear Yoongi,

Oh my god, I’m sure your mother will be thrilled to watch you get married in a blue kangaroo suit. Weddings aren’t too bad but I’ve only ever been to my Aunt’s wedding. Her maid of honor got super drunk and started dancing on a table until it collapsed. It was pretty funny. I’ve never really thought about my wedding. I think I’d want to elope but I know my mom would cry if I did that. As long as I marry my best friend I don’t care though.

December 17th, 2005

Dear Y/N,

Merry Christmas! I hope you enjoy the holiday and break from school.

February 26th, 2006

Dear Yoongi,

I hope you had a great holiday! We went to visit my grandpa. It was really nice. I’m sorry I didn’t write sooner. I’ve been busy packing. We’re moving again in a couple months. My parents said I can finish this year with my friends but I’ll have to start a new school next grade. I’m scared.

March 3rd, 2006

Dear Y/N,

I think it would be exciting to start over somewhere new. Don’t be scared. I’m sure it’ll all be okay. You can still write to me if you want. I’ll always be your friend.

You were scared. Your mom had accepted a job a few hours away. Your parents agreed to to let you live with your dad for the remainder of the school year but then you’d have to move back with your mom and start at a new school the following semester. It was terrifying until you realized something as you were addressing a new letter to Yoongi.

April 8th, 2006

Dear Yoongi,

Thank you for being my friend. That is comforting knowing that I can always write to you. I just realized we’ll be going to the same school though. Maybe we can meet up some time and be friends in person. Is that weird? Anyways I hope to see you in a few months.

August 2nd, 2006

Dear Y/N,

Sorry it was a crazy busy summer. I had to work on my grandparents farm. Wow yeah it looks like we’re going to the same high school. We should meet up! Meet me underneath the maple tree at the front of the school before first period.

That was the most nervous you had ever been. Your heart rate increased as you walked towards the guy waiting underneath the tree. He was even cuter in person. Part of you didn’t want to meet him. Part of you didn’t want the letters to stop as you were sure they would now that you were at the same school. But you pushed forward greeting him with a shy smile which he quickly returned. Your friendship really evolved that day.

September 18th, 2006

Dear Y/N,

I know it’s kind of silly to write you a letter when we already spend almost every day together but I miss it. I really hate our algebra class. I swear Mr. Park is trying to make sure I never graduate. I think I’m going to try out for the basketball team. I might really have a shot at making it. If I do I hope you come to all of my games!

October 1st, 2006

Dear Yoongi,

Mr. Park is not trying to force you to fail. Maybe if you actually paid attention instead of staring at me the whole time you’d actually learn something… I know you’ll make the team, they’d be dumb not to take you. And of course I’ll be in the front row at every game!

And you were there. Yoongi was the star player. You attended every game cheering for him as loud as you could. You were shocked when after the championship game Yoongi pulled you in for a kiss. Neither of you mentioned it again after that night though.

August 21st, 2007

Dear Y/N,

Can you believe we’re in our second year of high school already? I know we haven’t written letters in a while but it seemed right. I’m excited for this year!

September 3rd, 2007

Dear Yoongi,

I was wondering when I’d get a letter… I’m ready for this year. I can’t wait for another basketball season too. I might look into drama club or something. That sounds fun. I’ll see you at Taehyung’s on Friday right?!

September 8th, 2007

Dear Y/N,

I’m sorry I didn’t come up to you at Taehyung’s party. I saw that you were getting pretty cozy with Hoseok and didn’t want to interrupt, anything going on between you two by the way? Not that I really care or anything but as your best friend I think I deserve to know.

September 8th, 2007

Dear Yoongi,

I’m literally sitting right next to you at the lunch table. We can just talk. But no nothing is going on between me and Hobi. I was actually asking him if he knew when you were going to show up.

September 8th, 2007

Dear Y/N,

Okay cool because I wanted to ask if you would go out with me. I’m sorry I don’t have the courage to say it to your face and have to ask you in a letter.

September 8th, 2007

Dear Yoongi,

Yes I will go out with you...but only if you promise to wear a blue kangaroo onesie at our wedding.

September 8th, 2007

Dear Y/N,

I will wear whatever kind of suit you want me too, birthday suit included ;)

You could still remember how hot your face felt that day. You had a huge crush on Yoongi and were planning to confess to him at the party but he never showed up. You were over the moon excited when he confessed first.

The next several letters were just little bits and pieces here and there. Yoongi took a vacation with his family. You got a part time job at an ice cream parlor. They were all important to you in their own ways but you were looking for one in particular and after some searching you found it.

July 11th, 2008

Dear Y/N,

I can’t believe we’re going to be going into our senior year of high school. Last night was amazing. I hope you’re not too sore. I’m sorry if I did or said anything dumb. I was so nervous but I’m thankful that my first time could be with someone that I love so much. You’ve gotten me through so much and I’m excited to see where the rest of our lives takes us.

July 11th, 2008

Dear Yoongi,

You were nothing but gentle and sweet and amazing. I’m glad I could share my first with you too. I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. I love you Yoongi.

That night was one that you would never forget as long as you lived. The love that you two felt for each other was overwhelming and you never thought it would ever change.

January 22nd, 2009

Dear Yoongi,

You are a meanie boo beanie. That is all.

January 23rd, 2009

Dear Y/N,

I am a meanie boo beanie but I’m your meanie boo beanie. I’m sorry I forgot that I was supposed to drive you and your sister to the concert. I really am and I promise I’ll make it up to you both. I love you.

You chuckled as you folded up those letters. Teenage you had no self control sometimes. You probably called him twenty five times and sent who knows how many texts. He stayed calm through it all and apologized to both you and your sister. He got you guys flowers and took you both out to dinner. It was probably super hard on his wallet as a teenager but he still did it without even a frown. You never realized how much that meant to you.

August 21st 2010

Dear Y/ N,

It sucks we ended up at different colleges. I really really miss you. Sometimes I regret our decision. I hope you’re doing well and everyone is treating you good. If anyone tried anything let me know and I’ll be there so fast. I love you Y/N.

September 5th, 2010

Dear Yoongi,

I know I miss you too. I hate that you’re six hours away from me. I’m already counting down the days until winter break when we can finally be in each others arms again. Be safe and make good choices. I love you Yoongi.

January 3rd, 2011

Dear Y/N,

I know you just left but I miss you so much already. Your friends seem really nice, but I’m super suspicious of that Namjoon. I’m keeping an eye on him (just kidding…not really though). Before you know it summer break will be here and we can be together again. I love you Y/N.

January 9th, 2011

Dear Yoongi,

Leaving was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I was so warm and comfy in your arms. Summer break can’t come soon enough.

PS. You don’t have to keep an eye on Namjoon. He’s nice and all but you’re then only one I want to be with. I’m more worried about all of those women constantly following you around…I love you Yoongi.

Oh boy you sighed to yourself. If you’d both only known the weight of your words in those letters at the time. The next few letters were thankfully light hearted and sweet. Yoongi made the basketball team. You surprised him by driving all day to make it in time for his first home game. Algebra was once again kicking your ass and Yoongi had a particularly hard time in Organic Chemistry. He got a job at a record store and you worked part time at the campus book store. You spent the summer break together before returning to your respective colleges. All normal and nothing upsetting. Then things quickly went south.

November 8th, 2011

Dear Y/N

I miss you like usual. Sometimes I really think about switching school. I’d give up all that I have here to be with you. I love you Y/N.

January 13th, 2012

Dear Y/N,

Christmas was nice wasn’t it? My mom loves that sweater you got her. She wears it almost every day. My brothers coming to visit for a couple days. It’ll be nice to see him since he couldn’t make it home for Christmas. I hope everything’s good on your end. I love you Y/N.

March 7th, 2012

Dear Y/N

It’s starting to warm up just a little. I’m glad because I hate the cold. The only thing it’s good for is cuddling. I miss seeing your face and kissing you. I know we text and call each other like every day but I miss your letters too. I hope all is well. I heard from your mom that you and Namjoon are working on some huge research project together. I’d love to hear about that sometime. Like maybe when we get together over spring break? I love you Y/N.

March 18th, 2012

Dear Yoongi,

I’m sorry I haven’t been writing as much. Things have just been so crazy that I feel like I have no time to even breathe. I’m so sorry I can’t make it for spring break. You sounded so heartbroken over the phone and it kills me. At least summer break is right around the corner right?! This research project is gonna be the death of me. Tell your brother I said he’s a doofus!! I love you Yoongi.

July 21st, 2012

Dear Y/N,

I’m sorry I had to cancel our summer plans. Coach is just so worried about this upcoming season but I didn’t expect him to hold a mandatory summer camp. I know you said you weren’t crying but I could hear it in your voice m and it’s been killing me ever since. At least we had those few days together. You ready for the next semester? You’re gonna kill it!

August 26th, 2012

Dear Yoongi,

How are your classes so far? I heard you got a job at a record label. I’m sorry if you told me that over the phone. I must’ve missed it. How’s that going? I bet you’re impressing all of them.

November 1st, 2012

Dear Y/N,

It’s getting cold again. I hate it but at least the trees look pretty. I’m sorry I missed your birthday party. I got the invite so last minute and I couldn’t get time away from work. I’m going to make it up to you, I promise. They have me working with this singer, Mia. I’m producing one of her songs. It’s my first solo project. She’s so talented. I think she has the ability to really go places. Anyways, I sent you a gift. I hope it got to you in time.

November 15th, 2012

Dear Yoongi,

I got it. Thank you. It’s a beautiful necklace. It would’ve been nicer to have you there with me though. I’m really proud of you and I can’t wait to hear the song. We’re planning a trip to the mountains. Namjoon’s parents have a cabin up there. Let me know if you’d like to join us. It would be nice to see you.

You took a deep breath trying to forcefully stop tears from falling and ruining your makeup. Yoongi in fact did not join you guys at the cabin. He didn’t even mention it. That was also the worst birthday you had ever had. And you knew his excuse of getting the invite too late was complete bullshit because your best friend told you she sent it to him three months in advance and he agreed to come but then cancelled the night before the surprise party. You never told him that you knew that. You also never told him that you spent that night crying into Namjoons chest. It was that moment that you knew your relationship was changing but you had no idea just how much.

The letters stopped for quite a while after that, for both of you. Truth be told the calls and texts slowed down too. When you pulled the next letter out of the box you took a long deep breath. You had wanted to rip this letter to shreds but you knew that would make you quite the hypocrite given what was written in your own letter beneath it.

May 11th, 2013

Dear Y/N,

I’m sorry I haven’t written in so long. I’m really sorry that there is a disappointing reason for me to write this letter. I’m also sorry that I’m too much of a coward to tell you this myself……I’m so sorry Y/N. I fucked up so bad. There was this girl…Mia. I can’t remember if I’ve ever told you about her. But she’s signed to the record label and we’ve been working together a lot and FUCK…I’m sorry Y/N. We were both drunk and I just miss you so much and one thing lead to another. I know that’s the oldest, sleaziest excuse in the book but it’s true. I regret it so much. She doesn’t mean anything like that to me. I just needed to release some stress and frustration and it just happened. I wasn’t thinking straight. I’m sorry again Y/N. I know I’ve said that like a million times already. I know we can get past this but I also know that if I never hear from you again that it was all my fault and I deserve it and I understand. I love you Y/N.

May 21st, 2013

Dear Yoongi,

Reading that letter did hurt. It hurt for many reasons I guess. But…I have my own confession to make. I kind of cheated on you too. Or I guess I did cheat on you? I made out with Namjoon. I stopped it before it went past kissing and some grinding but I won’t lie and say I didn’t want it to go farther than that. Maybe this long distance thing just isn’t going to work any more. We’ve really grown apart over the last few years and I think our relationship has ran its course. I will always have love for you Yoongi. Take care of yourself and I wish you nothing but success and happiness.

Ripping up those letters crossed your mind even now. Those were moments in your relationship, in your life, that you never wanted to remember again. Ultimately though they were apart of you so you folded them up and set them aside.

Understandably the letters stopped completely after that. You definitely had a few letters stored away in a drawer at home that you wrote but could never bring yourself to send.

And then two years ago you saw a familiar name in your mail box.

October 8th, 2022

Dear Y/N,

Wow it’s been a while since I wrote that…or at least wrote it with the true intention to actually mail the letter. I ran into your mom at the grocery store the other day and she gave me your address. I didn’t ask for it. I promise I won’t be weird and randomly show up one day or something.

I wasn’t even going to write this but my therapist said it would be good for me. I hope things are going well for you. Your mom also mentioned that you were engaged. Congratulations! I hope he’s treating you well. She also said you’re like some big shot at a research organization. That’s really cool. I always knew you’d do something important like that. I hope to hear from you again but I will completely understand if I don’t. No pressure or anything. I miss you Y/N.

You wrote him back. Nothing crazy. Just some info about your job and he told you about the music he was working on. How he got married and unfortunately divorced later the same year which you already knew but you didn’t tell him that. He opened up to you about his mental health concerns and starting therapy and you told him about your struggles as well. The two of you exchanged numbers and talked more that way too. Even after all those years and everything that happened he still felt like home to you.

You stared at the last letter you had written him. You were a mess while writing it. You were questioning your choices, you were exhausted and maybe a little drunk. If you’d known it would be the last letter you ever wrote to him you might’ve been a little more cheerful in your words.

June 16th, 2023

Dear Yoongi

I’m supposed to get married tomorrow but I don’t know if I can…I can’t do it. It just doesn’t feel right and feel like I’m stringing him along and he doesn’t deserve that. I don’t know what to do. I wish you were going to be there, even if you were wearing a stupid blue kangaroo onesie. It would make me feel better...especially if I was in a pink matching one just like we planned. Remember that? You were supposed to be the one I married. My best friend. We promised. But you’re not here. You’re probably in LA right now for your album release party. I hope you’re having the best time. I’m so proud of you and everything that you have achieved. I love you Yoongi.

“Y/N are you ready? He’s waiting outside with the photographer to get your first looks.”, your maid of honor smiled from just outside the door.

“Okay yeah be right there!”, you said quickly shuffling all of the letters back into the little white box.

Standing just outside the double doors trying to calm your nerves you heard your future husband laughing at something the photographer said which helped to bring some sense of comfort to your shaking nerves.

You gave the official okay and the doors were opened allowing you to walk out into the open courtyard.

Your future husband looked up breaking out into a huge gummy smile at the sight of you in a pink kangaroo onesie.

You couldn’t contain your laughter at the sight of him in a matching blue kangaroo onesie, baby kangaroo included.

“Oh my god Yoongi.”, you managed to cough out in between fits of laughter.

“My mom threatened me that if I wore this for the wedding she’d disown me so this was the best I could do.”, he said in between his own fits of laughter, “I’m glad you had the same idea.”

The photographer couldn’t help but smile as she snapped some photos of you before you quickly changed into your actual dress and Yoongi into his tux so she could get some photos that your mothers wouldn’t complain about.

“Five minutes til show time.”, the wedding planner announced.

“I’ve got to go get in place but I wanted you to have this.”, Yoongi said handing you a folded piece of paper before walking away.

You scoffed irritated because you could already feel tears begin to threaten your makeup artists hard work as you read,

August 15, 2024

Dear Lovely Wife,

We have come so far haven’t we? I never would’ve thought that the random letter I was forced to write in the fifth grade would lead me here but I’m glad that it did. I know we’ve made mistakes and have done things we wish we could change but we have been able to move forward from that and I promise to never hurt you in any way ever again. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life as your husband. I love you more than I can really write into words.

PS. I’m definitely bringing the kangaroo onesie on the honeymoon. I have some ideas that may or may not also involve binoculars, rope, and a suspiciously fluffy pair of handcuffs…

#bts #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi #bts fanfic #bts x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi fic #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #bts yoongi #suga

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your-hockey-mom · 9 days ago

Text

Intemporelle; timeless

Paring: Quinn Hughes | OC Female (Older)

Chapter: 1 of ?

WC: 5,825

Genre: Romance/Fluff

Warnings: Alcohol use, swearing, mentioned depressive thoughts, guilt/shame, embarrassment

Summary: Off-season wedding within the Canucks' organization. Quinn is drunk when he's introduced to a friend of the bride and groom. Things take a turn when he gets sick and requires being tucked into bed.

Big thank you to @insidious-apple for letting me gush about my silly ideas and spamming you with updates.

White flowers fell in cascaded archways over top of every doorway in the chateau's ballroom. No expense had been spared on the wedding, now in full swing, that evening. Guests had been arriving the last three days to the Fairmont Chateau to enjoy the luxuries afforded by their hosts. No matter where you looked, luxe decorations reminded you of the scope of the affair.

By now, the reception had gone late into the beginning hours of the morning. Parents, grand-parents, aunts, and uncles had all said their goodbyes hours before, leaving the younger generations to continue the festivities. Shoes had been abandoned, empty glasses, and plates of cake littered several tables, their respective owners all mingling on the dance floor or in their rooms entirely.

Madeline Ramsey, best friend of the bride, had gotten to the resort just that morning. Work as a dress consultant in one of Vancouver's high-end bridal stores had kept her away from joining the rest of the bridal party's celebrations and had made her feel like she was playing catch-up ever since the ceremony. She was tall, curvy; a deep brunette with striking sage green eyes. She had just turned thirty-four two months prior in June; becoming now the last of all of her girlfriends to tie the knot. Years before, she was so consumed by the fact that she wasn't even in a relationship let alone engaged, but now, it was just another day on her own.

"Maddie! About time you showed! You were missed!" The groom hollered over the booming DJ equipment. He was obviously feeling no pain, throwing his arm over his friend that was standing next to him and whose conversation had been interrupted when she wandered near. The friend, looked in way worse shape than the groom but equally enjoying his time at the reception, locked eyes on Maddie and never took his eyes off her.

"I'm sorry! You didn't have to schedule your wedding in peak season either! I work in the industry, you know!"

"I forgot about that. But hey! You're here now!"

They stood there for a few minutes, just talking, giving congratulations and catching up. Maddie still being admired from the unintroduced bystander, took a sip of her wine, smiling with her eyes over the rim of her glass.

"Ah, goddamn, sorry! Maddie, Quinn; Quinn, Maddie."

"Hello," she says, making Quinn smile, his eyes finally falling away from her for the first time.

"Quinny's a little shy," the groom jokes. Quinn's face goes beet red in the dimly lit hall, at the sound of being called by one of his nicknames. He receives a playful shove to his shoulder from his teammate before he turns to leave. "I hate to leave you too, but I need to check on my bride. She's been left unsupervised with an open bar...for probably too long. Don't be strangers!"

Maddie said her goodbyes and turned her attention back to Quinn. He was looking down at his feet, kicking one with the other. His awkwardness made her smile. "So, I take it you play with Connor?"

"Yeah, he's a great guy," Quinn replied, trying to keep his drunk gaze on her face. "You're really...pretty."

His compliment was the last thing she had expected to hear so she just stared at him like a deer in the headlights for a second. Knowing she heard him correctly, she still asked him to repeat himself like the music was too loud.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

Quinn shook his head, trying to make it come off like he hadn’t said anything, realizing in his drunkenness he had some regret over saying what he had. After a few moments, he began to crack a smile.

“Yeah, huh, you said I was pretty.” Maddie teased, taking another drink from her glass.

“Nuh-uh,” Quinn grinned.

Maddie, realizing he was being full of shit, gave her best fake, dramatic gasp. “How rude!” Quinn just continued to smile that same cheesy grin. Leaving it alone, Maddie looked forward to the dance floor, trying to see if there was anyone she needed to say hello to before while they could still remember seeing her. However, from where she stood it was hard to say.

“Would you want....would you like to dance?” Quinn blurts out, when the song changes to a slow one making Maddie look back over at the young captain.

“You want to dance? With me?”

Quinn nodded quickly in succession, like a little boy asked if wanted candy.

“Since you called me pretty…I guess,” she teased. “Yes, I’ll dance with you.” Putting her glass and clutch down on a nearby table she takes Quinn’s wobbly, outstretched arm and tries her best to let him lead her to the outer fringes of the dance floor.

At first, Quinn seemed hesitant to put his hands on her for the dance. Maddie helped him along by putting her arms around his neck which brought the two of them together quickly. Quinn’s face burned hot smelling her perfume and feeling her so close to him.

"Are you okay?" She said, leaning in to tease him.

"Mhm." He blushed, again.

The two of them just swayed back and forth to the slow beat of the song, in their own little world and no one paid them a bit of mind. Maddie stood an couple inches taller than Quinn due to her heels but he didn't seem to mind. From time-to-time, she'd look over at Quinn who would just start to giggle. However, towards the end of the song, something changed in his face.

"Quinn?" Maddie's brows pulled inward. Looking at him a little longer, she knew that look. His breathing had deepened, his brows were knitted together, and he just looked worried. He was going to be sick if she wasn't proactive in getting him out of there, for the sake of his pride if nothing else. "C'mon, let's get you outside."

This time, he doesn't even nod. He fully lets her guide him to the connecting hallway where she hoped she might find a bathroom. Quinn's feet began to drag, like he was fighting the urge to expel his guts all over the marble hallway.

"You're okay," she reassures, her hand in his. "Hold on just a little longer."

He didn't answer her; didn't even hum an answer, just kept his eyes down and clung to her grasp. Eventually, she'd find him a safe place and he wasted no time pushing through the door while Maddie waited outside. While she stood there, she remembered she had left her purse behind. If she didn't get it now, the possibility of someone else running off with it, or forgetting it entirely, was growing with each second she stood there.

Down the hall she sprinted - sprinted as fast as she could in her heels - to gather her things and return to Quinn hopefully before he was better. Before she reached the door she slowed to a dignified walk and acted like nothing was wrong. No one needed to know there were things going on; not her friends or his.

"Maddie!"

"Maddie come here! Where have you been?" A couple bridesmaids spotted her and at the top of their voices they yelled her name. "Come dance with us!"

Maddie just smiled and waved a "no thank you" in their direction. Their audible, disappointed whines melted into the music as she passed by them. She'd blow the group a kiss before finally parting ways, thankful that she had been able to skirt that situation without being too hindered, or asked why she was leaving; worse yet if they had seen her leave with Quinn.

Back down the hall her heels clicked almost at a panicked pace. She'd turn that final corner to see Quinn sitting on the ground, outside the bathroom door, his head resting on his knees as he hugged them. When his eyes lifted to see her, they were red and wet. He looked so tired, drained, and just like he still felt like shit.

"I'm sorry, Quinn. I just left to get my bag."

Quinn shook his head, his eyes staying locked on her face, "It's okay."

"C'mon, how about we get you upstairs?" Maddie reached down, both of her arms extended for him to take her hands and get up off the floor. His skin was cool and clammy when he finally decided to move and reach out for her. "Nice and slow."

He had lost his suit jacket by this point, it laid beside him in a crumpled heap but he was so wobbly getting back up that Maddie decided to get it for him instead. Quinn stood against the wall, his breathing slowed now and he was leaning.

"Do you have your room key, Quinn?" She asked respectfully feeling around in the pockets of the jacket in case it was in there.

"Mhm, somewhere. Oh, here, I think." From the pocket of his pants, Quinn produced the black room key and did his best to hand it to her.

"Thank you. Do you want to wear your jacket?" Maddie asked, thought it laid draped over her left arm. He shook his head and stayed leaning against the wall. "Do you need a minute?"

"No."

He sounded awful; like there was nothing left in him to interact with. Maddie put her hand against his back and his eyes opened, looking at her with exhaustion. She wanted to help him, but there was only so much comfort she could offer him from their current position. "Ready?"

"Yeah."

Getting Quinn towards the elevator had been easier than getting him to the bathroom, but it was still no speed walk. He was still wobbly underfoot and couldn't walk in a straight line without Maddie as a bumper. He mumbled inaudible apologies, laying his head on her shoulder as the elevator doors closed and pulled them upwards towards the top floor suites.

"I...sorry." Quinn spoke through a sigh. "I am...I'm really sorry."

Maddie smiled, her cheek laying against his head ever so slightly to give him that brief moment of unashamed comfort. "We've all been there, Quinn, it's fine! You'll feel better in the morning."

"I don't...think....I doubt it," he replied, causing Maddie to stifle a laugh. His deep, full-bodied sighs were the only sound beyond the dings from the floors the elevator was passing. The chateau's top floor opened up to the two of them and she let Quinn step out at his own pace. Naturally, his room would be at the other end of the hall but she never once rushed him. It didn't matter if it took five minutes or fifteen, she'd let him stop whenever he needed to collect himself.

"Do you...have...do you have my key?" He asked, feeling around in his pocket. His voice was getting deeper, more monotone. Was he getting more relaxed or just on the verge of falling asleep?

"Yes, Quinn, I have your key."

"Oh, okay."

The lock clicked and with the weighted door pushed open, Maddie would insist Quinn go in first. He put one hand on the door, then the other on the wall and felt his way inside while Maddie stayed close behind; her fingertips hovering just behind the center of his back. He'd find his way safely to the edge of the bed and flopped down with another heavy sigh, laying on his back.

"I'm sorry," Quinn continued to apologize, his hands covering his eyes. "I'm...I'm really sorry."

"Don't be sorry," she added, hanging up his jacket. "Do want some help getting into bed?"

"Yes, please. Wait, no, yeah...I don't know."

Maddie smiled though Quinn never saw it. She stood there just looking at him have an existential crisis in real time. "Come on, let me help you or else you're just going to lay there all night in your suit."

"I'm fine."

"Quinn." Maddie said, her brows raised.

"Okay." He was just being a big kid at this point but she found it cute. She'd get his shoes untied and him pulled back up to a seated position. His little legs didn't reach the floor and she'd find Quinn kicking his sock feet when she turned back around.

Quinn's golden eyes just looked at her while she slowly unbuttoned his dress shirt. "Have I told you...that I think....that you're really pretty?"

Maddie tried not to look at him, not out of embarrassment, but because she, too, wanted to get back to her room and if she looked at him every time he said something adorable, she'd be there all night. However, when he brought a hand up to stop her from undoing another button, she had no choice.

"Have I? Because you...because you are." The natural sincerity in his words touched her, drunk or not. The look in his eyes said nothing but the truth.

"You have, a couple times, yes," she smiled, his hand still holding on to both of hers. "That's very sweet of you."

Finally, the childlike joy flashed in his eyes again and he mirrored her smile, "Okay...okay good. Someone should...you should be told that."

"Alright, Prince Charming, can I finish what I'm doing?" Maddie winked.

"You're trying to get me...you're taking my clothes off! You're...you want me naked, huh?"

This time she couldn't help but snort, she laughs so hard. Quinn just looks at her wide eyed and serious; almost shocked thinking he got her intentions correct.

"I knew it! Here, I'll...I'll help you!"

"Quinn it's fine! I--," but before she could finish her sentence, he started fussing with his belt but clumsy fingers couldn't conquer the buckle.

"I can't...I'm stuck...in my pants. Wow..."

Shaking her head she'd finally finish with the last remaining buttons of his shirt while he hung his head in what appeared to be the most self-defeating shame. She was, however, able to get him to his feet just long enough to get him out of his pants, leaving him wobbly there in a t-shirt and his underwear.

"Okay, bedtime," Maddie said, giving his back a little tap.

"Okay," he yawned, shuffling a few feet towards the turned back covers. Once he was under the blankets she put his phone on the charger but not before putting her number in his contacts, just in case.

"If you need anything, you can call me, alright? Do you remember my name?"

"Maddie?"

"Mhm, so if you need anything, just call, okay?"

"Thank you," Quinn said, giving her one of his bashful grins from earlier in the evening.

Maddie, standing next to him held her hair back before leaning forward to place a soft kiss to his forehead. Quinn smiled wider, snuggling deeper beneath the blankets after she turned off the light. "Good night, Prince Charming."

"Good night, Maddie. It was...I'm glad that...it was really nice to meet you."

"It was lovely to meet you, too, Quinn. Get some sleep, okay?"

"Thank you, you too."

In the darkness of the room Maddie smiled, before turning away from her not-so secret admirer. Once the door closed behind her, she hoped he'd be alright through the night. She felt that after some good sleep he'd bounce back to his old self which was a thought that she held for herself as well. And with said thought, Maddie returned to her own room, two floors down from Quinn's, instead of returning to the reception.

Maddie's room was much smaller than Quinn's suite, but seeing as she could only stay the one night, it was for the best, plus, she didn't have NHL money to afford the twenty-five-hundred-dollars a night charge. She undid the ankle straps of her stilettos, removed her jewelry, and slipped out of her dress. Having those heels off was such a relief but walking without them was terribly painful.

The cold tile brought some relief, as she stood before the vanity removing her makeup. Hot steam rolled from the spa-like tub filling with water and fragrant scents behind her. By this point, it was well after 2am, and by her face in the mirror, she felt it. This bath would be well worth the wait.

Forty minutes later, with her hair in a messy top-bun, Maddie stood there in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of boyshorts. She was exhausted as she applied her skincare, yearning for the comforting embrace of her bed that was just around the corner. That was before her phone began to ring in the next room. There was only one person she could think of that would be calling her: Quinn.

"Quinn?"

From the other end of the phone, a slight reverberation echoed with each word he struggled to speak.

"I need you. Please."

"Okay, okay, I'll be there in a few minutes," she replied, worried.

His line went dead and the phone call ended. Maddie didn't even bother putting on her leggings; just slipped on her white sneakers, grabbed her phone and sprinted down her own hallway to get to Quinn as fast as she could. The elevator took forever to open to her floor but at least it had been empty. Her acrylic nails tapped against the buttons, queuing Quinn's floor as she impatiently waited for the final stop.

"610, 611, 612," Maddie whispered to herself, hoping she had remember the correct room number. Knocking lightly, she hoped he would hear her.

"I'm sorry," Quinn said, opening the door to her slowly. He was covered in sweat, his white shirt damp and his hair all in front of his eyes.

"What's wrong?" No sooner had she reached for his shoulder, Quinn was turning away to stumble back to the bathroom.

Dry heaves. The devil.

He had nothing left to lose, but his body was trying to convince him that if he didn't clear his system, he'd continue to be miserable. Maddie followed behind him, seeing him draped over the toilet, his shoulders rolled forward as his body tensed against each retching episode.

"Oh, Quinn," she said under her breath. She knew his pain; dry heaves were almost worse than actually having to vomit: less painful. Maddie ran a washcloth beneath the cold tap and wrung it out before placing in on the back of his neck. His body shuddered against the sharp sensation which prompted her to run her hand up and down his spine for comfort and support. "You're okay."

He started to sniffle when he pulled away, feeling awful both physically and about having her see him like this. Maddie would hand him a towel off the warmer and he buried his face in it immediately. Her sympathy for him was growing. He just looked like a little boy getting sick for the first time.

"Want to try laying back down?"

He nodded.

"Okay, come on, sweetheart," Maddie cooed, getting him to his feet. His fingers clung to her body without hesitation, unlike before. Now, he came off like he needed her; no longer bashful about being so close to her. "You sit right here, okay?"

"I'll try," Quinn said, sitting back down on the edge of his bed a second time. She returned to his side with a bottle of water he had left out from earlier in the day. It wasn't full but it would serve its purpose.

"I need you to drink this, okay? Just little sips, alright?"

Quinn took the bottle and brought it to his lips several times; each time he pulled it away, he gasped for air slightly. He was still shaking; his shirt slightly damp from sweat. Maddie was standing directly in front of him, close enough for him to lean into her. When the bottle was nearly empty, Quinn reached out for her and pulled her into him; his head nestled directly between her breasts. She knew he didn't mean to be so forward, so she didn't push him away.

"You'll be okay, Quinn, I promise," Maddie said softly, both hands lost in his hair.

Eventually, he'd look up at her, the faint light from the harsh overhead bathroom fixture giving the bedroom enough illumination to see his expression. He looked so worried, so scared by everything going on with him in that moment. Maddie brushed the hair from his forehead; his eyelids fluttering closed each time she brushed them away.

"Wanna lay back down?"

Quinn's brows pulled together, like he was unsure if he should or not. Maddie continued to play with his hair, her pointed nails raking against his scalp comfortably,

"I don't want to get sick again." Quinn's voice was meek and solidified the notion that he was scared.

"I don't think you will. I think your body knows now that everything is gone now. Let's try getting you back in bed, okay?"

He nods again, his arms falling away from her waist as she takes a step back to give him room to move, taking the bottle from him. Quinn slips back beneath the covers as Maddie covers him up to his chin. "Can I get you anything?"

"No, thank you."

"Okay, if you're sure."

"You're not leaving, are you?" He asked, seeing her turn away from him again. Maddie turn back, her eyes locking onto his face immediately.

"Aw, Quinn you don't have to pout." The sight broke her heart, but she wondered if staying was really the best decision. However, looking at him beneath the covers, his dark eyes conveying immeasurable amounts of sadness, and that bottom lip. How dare he look so cute yet so heartbreakingly miserable.

"I don't want you to go," he mumbled.

"You're okay now, I promise."

"Please, stay?" Quinn pleaded again, this time with more emotion in his voice.

Maddie's eyes pulled away from his face. The bed was an obvious King; too much for one person let alone two. Quinn hadn't come off like a guy who couldn't keep his hands to himself so what harm would it be to stay?

"Okay, if you want me to say, I'll stay." She tried giving him a reassuring smile, but it didn't change his sorrowful expression.

Climbing into the bed from the other side, Maddie got close enough to Quinn that if he needed her she was within arms reach. She didn't want to crowd him, they didn't know each other that way. Surely he'd understand, right? She'd let her eyes fall closed but they didn't remain closed for long. The feeling of Quinn's hand touching her bare leg made her flinch.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" He mumbled. "I just...I didn't mean it, I just..."

Maddie didn't say anything, instead, she found his arm and followed it downward until her hand found his. Quinn gave hers a little squeeze, his heart falling back into its normal rhythm after his scare. It was all he had wanted in the end. They'd fall asleep hand-in-hand; Quinn's head facing Maddie's on their respective pillows.

Hours later, way into morning, Maddie awoke to find Quinn snuggled up beside her. His stray curls had tickled her nose, pulling her from a comfortable slumber. He remained asleep as she did her best to carefully leave his side, ensuring he stayed asleep. Afterall, it was Quinn who needed to recover from the wild night of drinking, not her.

Quiet as she could, Maddie laced up her shoes, grabbed her phone and redid her hair before slipping out of the room. She tugged at the hem of the shirt she wore as she walked, and even though it fell just below her backside, she wasn't at a frat house; this was a luxury resort... She felt dirty, like she was walking a modified walk-of-shame. Had Quinn been awake she might have asked to borrow a pair of his sweatpants or something but that just didn't happen. Maybe she could play it off like she had been in the gym or something, but though she wasn't sweating or out of breath, it might just look like a big lie.

Thankfully for Maddie, there was no one around. Everyone still seemed to be sleeping off their hangovers which kept the halls and elevators empty. Once back inside her room, everything was like she had left it in her frantic leaving some hours prior. The lights were still on, her bed was still made, even the containers of skincare remained open and strewn about the counter like she was in the process of applying it. Looking at the mess, she couldn't believe she had just dropped everything for a guy she had just met. Granted, the way Quinn had sounded and what he had said, it had conveyed urgency. She'd spend the next hour packing and preparing to head back to Vancouver.

It was the headache that had woken Quinn up.

The curtains were still drawn, his phone was silent, and he was alone. He didn't dream about everything that had happened the night before, had he? He had met Maddie, and gotten sick, and had begged her to stay, right? They went to bed together, too? Where was she now, he wondered. Clawing his way up to rest his body weight on his forearms, he looked around the room, but there was no sign of her; no sound but the gentle whistle of the air conditioner.

Quinn sighed, pinching his eyes shut before the buzzing of his phone on the nightstand grabbed his attention.

Connor: Hey bud (10:38am)

Connor: You alive? (10:38am)

Connor: Just checking in

Didnt see you again after leaving you with maddie (10:39am)

Quinn: Yeah, I'm alive. (10:40am)

Connor: Thats good

She treat you alright? ;) (10:42am)

Quinn: Yeah, I'm pretty sure I made an ass of myself, though.

She's the only reason I made it back to my room this morning. (10:45am)

Connor: ooooh ;) (10:45am)

Quinn: It was nothing like that. (10:47am)

Connor: Well damn, lol

You get sick? (10:48am)

Quinn: Yes. (10:49am)

Connor: On her? (10:54am)

Quinn: No, but I have a feeling I said some things I shouldn't have. (10:56am)

Connor: Oh im sure shes okay (10:58am)

Quinn: Hopefully.

I need to get up and shower. What are you guys doing today? (11:01am)

Connor: Sounds good

Come meet us downstairs for brunch (11:09am)

Quinn: I'll see you in a few. (11:11am)

Quinn let his phone from his hand into the duvet as he laid on his back once his conversation with Connor had concluded. He had no strength to get out of bed and get in the shower, though he knew the hot water would likely bring him some comfort. Several minutes passed before he finally threw the covers aside and left the warm embrace of the linens.

Before he made it to the bathroom, in the small closet area, Quinn noticed his suit hung up and his dress shoes on the rack below it. He hadn't expected to see everything so nice, so tenderly cared for. Maddie really had taken care of him from the moment she had met him. Normally, he would have smiled to himself at such a kindness, but instead Quinn found himself with an opposite emotion. He should have been able to do everything she had done for him on his own. Instead, he was ashamed of everything and dreaded hearing of anything he didn't remember.

Hanging his head, Quinn entered the bathroom and hoped the hot steam would erase his lingering shame.

"Maddie! You're not leaving us, are you?" Sarah, the bride of the whole affair said, seeing her best friend walking past their private, outdoor dining area. The chateau had no shortage of stunning views, outdoor patios, and grand interior decorating. Maddie was sad to be leaving after essentially just arriving, and considering she hadn't even turned back the blankets of her bed, it was shame to just pack up and leave, but she had other obligations.

Maddie stopped and gave a sorrowful expression to her childhood friend. "I've gotta get back to the city, babe!"

"Not even for brunch and mimosas? You literally just got here!" Sarah got up from her table and made her way to where Maddie had stopped. They met in a hug and Sarah hoped she could still convince her friend to stay just a little longer.

"Yeah, I know, and I want to stay, but I just have so much to do. It was so hard for me to even get yesterday off! I have over a dozen appointments a day right now. I'm working twelves just to make my numbers."

Sarah pouted, both because she hadn't been convincing enough and also because she hated to hear how over-worked her bestie was. "Well, we'll have to meet up sometime when you have a minute. I miss you, girlie!"

"I miss you, too!" Maddie responded, giving Sarah another loving hug.

"You be careful! Text me when you get home, please!"

"Oh, absolutely, I'd like that. And Connor, you take care of her for me!" Maddie threatened playfully. Connor returned comments of assurance before giving his well-wishes as well. She didn't like goodbyes, but thankfully they were all around Vancouver and it was easy enough to make plans. Maddie would just have to survive wedding season first.

"Well, we'll let you go! Please, be careful!"

"I will. Love you," Maddie said, with one final goodbye.

"We love you, too!"

Before Maddie left, Connor left the table to give her his personal farewells. His hug was tighter than Sarah's but it came with a meaning.

"Hey, thanks for taking care of Quinn the other night. I appreciate it."

Maddie pulled away, and looked upon his face with confusion. "He told you about that?"

"Yeah, and he was pretty embarrassed. I just wanted to thank you. I don't think anyone else would have done that."

She gave him a slight nod, a silent agreement between the two of them. Maddie waved back to the table once they parted ways and turned back towards the direction of the main lobby. At the same time she was leaving, Quinn rounded the corner and stopped when he saw her. Those legs, bare beneath the pale, floral sundress she was wearing; the same ones he vaguely remembered touching by accident. The dread came flooding in once again, remembering bits and pieces of things he had done that morning. She was leaving and he found himself feeling sad yet he was unable to do anything but watch her go. It was only after she was out of sight that he forced himself to walk again.

"Ah, there he is!" Connor teased, seeing Quinn finally darken the patio doorway. "You just missed Maddie. You know, if you hurry you might be able to apologize to her before she leaves."

Quinn looked down and sighed. It would take him a second to take his seat at their table.

"It's alright, bud, we all do stupid shit around pretty girls sometimes."

Sarah gave her husband's arm a slight tap, "Baby! Don't tease him like that! That's not nice!"

"Oh, he's fine, but you should have seen him, though. I don't think he blinked the whole time we stood there."

"Connor! Stop it!" By now, Sarah was trying not to laugh.

"Is she still dating the Henrik Lundqvist looking guy?" Connor asked, taking a slightly more serious turn with the conversation.

"Who, Jared? No, they split a year ago or something," Sarah recollected before taking a sip of her champagne drink. "I couldn't stand that guy. He was a pretentious asshole."

"Wasn't he a lawyer or something?"

"I think so, yeah. I mean, I know what she saw in him, but Christ. She's better off."

"Now's your chance, Quinny! Next year, it's your wedding we'll be going to if you play your cards right!"

"Ha, yeah, okay," he mumbled, his eyes scanning the morning's specials instead of interacting directly with the couple.

"I don't see Quinn the type to get engaged and married within a year," Sarah said, looking upon the young man with a smile, a hint of mischief in her eyes. Of course, she'd love to see her best friend find a great guy to be with, but she wasn't sure if Quinn was that fit either.

"I don't know, you should have seen how he looked at her, babe. It looked like love at first sight to me."

"I'm sitting right here," Quinn said in a huff, starting to get annoyed with the constant berating.

"Alright, alright! Fair enough," Connor chuckled.

Quinn's mind was racing like his heart in his chest. He still felt terrible about everything he had done, that other people knew, and that Maddie's opinion of him was probably terrible. He'd sit with Connor and Sarah through brunch, mostly hearing them talk, occasionally including him when needed. His mind was elsewhere: replaying the night before, wondering what he could do to rectify the past situation, and wondering if he'd ever see the tall brunette that called him Prince Charming, again.

After brunch, Quinn would remember that he had her phone number. By then, however, she would be hitting

Quinn: Hey, I'm really sorry about last night.

I hope I didn't do anything to offend you last night. (1:15pm)

Quinn: I feel awful about everything.

You were very kind to me, through everything. (1:25pm}

Quinn: I'm sorry if I'm rambling and bothering you. (1:27pm)

Quinn: I'd love to make it up to you, if you'd let me. (1:31pm)

Quinn: I know you're busy with work right now, but if you have some free time, may I take you to dinner sometime? (1:33pm)

Quinn: I'm sure you're still driving.

Sorry to keep messaging you. (1:37pm)

Maddie: You don't have anything to apologize for. <3 I'm just hoping you're feeling better! (2:45pm)

Maddie: Dinner sounds nice, but you don't have to do that just because you're sorry. (2:45pm)

Quinn: I'm tired, but I'm okay. Thank you. Did you make it home okay? (2:46pm)

Quinn: I am sorry about my actions, but I honestly would like to take you out. Genuinely. (2:46pm)

Maddie: :) You're sweet!

And yes, just got in, thanks. (2:53pm)

Quinn: That's good. (2:55pm)

Quinn: Hope you have a good afternoon and evening. (3:25pm)

Maddie: Sorry! My phone died! I didn't realize what my battery was on! D: (3:50pm)

Quinn: It's okay. (3:51pm)

Maddie: I'll let you know by the end of the week what my schedule looks like.

I'm already a day behind so I've a lot of catching up to do! :/

Where do you want to go for dinner? ;) (3:55pm)

Quinn: No rush. It sounds like a lot.

How do you feel about sushi? (3:58pm)

Maddie: It's my favourite! :D 🩷🩷🩷(4:05pm)

Quinn: Mine, too.

I'll make it up to you, I promise. (4:09pm)

Maddie: Nothing to make up for, Quinn. <3 Promise.

Take it easy, okay? (4:12pm)

Quinn: Okay, I'll try.

Have a good evening. (4:19pm)

I really worked hard on this daydream; days of brainstorming and note making. I hope at least one of you enjoys it. c: I can't guarantee a consistent posting schedule but I will do my best to get a couple out each month, as they tend to be a little on the longer side.

If you have any requests for stand-alone blurbs, please don't hesitate to reach out in my Asks.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey fanfiction

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bit-odd-innit · 1 year ago

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"Oh hell yeah." Argyle tips his head down to hang between his knees, clapping reverently and in time as he rises to the next song on Jonathan's mix. "Let's fuckin' goooooooo." Jonathan's nose scrunches around a laugh. "You don't strike me as a John Denver fan." Argyle's arms are up above his head, swaying elegantly in sync with the wind-swept branches above them. Robin is on her feet too, mimicking him, looking like an ancient aunt at a wedding attempting the YMCA. "As far as I'm concerned, dyood," he grabs Robin's wrists and maneuvers her to be somewhere in the neighborhood of the rhythm. "Anyone who's cool with the Muppets? S'cool with me. COUNTRY ROOOOOOADS—" Tonight was meant to be a relaxed night, an evening where the older kids could unwind, but there's an unshakable Finality to it. Jonathan and Argyle are shipping back to California in a few days, and it's a matter of weeks before Robin and Nancy head east for college. Steve's parents at last sold the house (well under asking, his mother loves to remind him) so he's crashing at Eddie and Wayne's Bright Shiny New Ranch for the foreseeable future. Steve's chest sinks. He's never going to be with these people, in this place, ever again.

Beside him, Eddie giggles.

"You amused, Munson?" He asks, rolling his head to the side. They're all more than a little high and more than a little drunk, but Steve and Eddie are the only ones who have fully laid back in the high grass behind the Hopper-Byers home. Steve thinks, briefly, of ticks. The bonfire he and Jonathan cobbled together flares orange, illuminates Eddie's cheekbones. Steve watches his plush pink lips silently mouth the words of the song, eyes closed. Steve's heart clenches. "Big fan of the Muppets, I assume," he says instead of you're everything to me. Eddie's whole face pinches in on itself, caught. "Are you surprised? I'm friends with Henderson, am I not?" Steve's laugh pulls him upright, his fist twisted in Eddie's tee shirt dragging him along for the ride. He's more than a little worried about ticks. Eddie follows him, still giggling, face pushed into Steve's shoulder. Across from them Nancy and Jonathan slow dance. There's something mournful about it; Nancy's hand curved around the back of Jonathan's neck, eyes and jaw hard; Jonathan rubbing his thumb on the small of Nancy's back, eyes watery and set somewhere far in the distance. Nancy's arm flies out and Robin is there at once, curved into her side. Argyle is there too, crushed against Jonathan's back, one hand still wrapped around Robin's wrist.

"Where you from?" Steve asks, feeling as stupid as the question sounds. Eddie squints. "Where d'ya think I'm from, baby?" And ah, God, fuck, shit. Because baby started as a joke. Baby built off their goofy innocuous teasing of darling and sweetheart and my love because they're friends and friends tease, but Eddie called Steve baby and his entire circulatory system collapsed, could only recalibrate by calling Eddie honey, watching his dark eyes go liquid soft, his body melting against him. They're friends. "You're from..." He gestures vaguely. "Not here?" Eddie laughs again, his breath warm against his collarbone.

"I'm from Kentucky," he lets his voice dip into his natural accent and Steve shivers. "I moved here in middle school when Wayne got the job at the factory."

"You miss it?" He tips his head so he mouths the question into Eddie's hair, in the space above his ear. Eddie hums and Steve digs his nails into the underside of his thigh to stop himself from jolting. "I don't remember enough about it to miss it," he says. "But I love this song, and it makes me miss something I don't think I ever had. Does that make sense?" Argyle, who is the closest he's ever been to the East Coast, tips his head back to face the canopy of trees and screams, "WEST VIRGINIAAAAAAAAA—"

Steve leaps to his feet, dragging Eddie with him.

"Dance with me."

Eddie's fingers curve around Steve's. "What about your girl?" "She's fine." Behind them, Jonathan Nancy and Robin kick out the square dance they learned in middle school gym class. Robin is one step behind, dragged along by the elbow Nancy has hooked around her bicep. Argyle watches, nodding and fascinated. Steve pulls Eddie in, chest to chest, hand crawling up to cradle the back of his skull, and murmurs, "take me home..."

He doesn't remember a lot after that. He remembers the thrust of Eddie's body, the soft press of his mouth. He remembers Nancy's squeaky "Oh!", Argyle's affirmative hum, Robin's hyena-like cackle that said he was going to get destroyed tomorrow, and the buzz against his lips. Eddie giggles, pulls him closer. "Take me home," he sings, and Steve thinks, we already are.

#stranger things #steddie #my fanfic

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amygdalae · 2 months ago

Note

I assume that you’re not particularly good at dancing (not very graceful) but that you make up for it with the enthusiasm of your movements

True! Well I do move on beat, and I try my best, but my typical dancing is a mixture of sultry hip movements and goth style arm/hand movements that's reminiscent of a drunk aunt at a wedding who's reaaally feeling the music. And was also casting a spell at the same time.

I can do the running man though I'm quite good at that. I can do it in platforms even

#I'm less good at footwork. I'll mix in a two step or a jazz square if im feeling funky but it's not my strong suit I mostly rely on hips #And torso and arms #I don't let myself get self conscious abt it cuz at least I'm dancing. Ppl are so shy at shows these days nobody dances

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themultifandomgal · 1 year ago

Text

John Shelby- Dancing

1 Year Old:

Music is heard throughout the house as Martha sits on the floor with her daughter in front of her

"Come on" Martha calls trying to encourage YN to walk over to her "YN, come on sweetheart, you gonna show your uncles you can walk?" the little girl just giggles crawling to her mum "I swear she walked this morning" Martha sighs in defeat hugging YN close. Tommy walks over to the little girl and helps her up on to her feet

"You gonna walk?" he asks letting her go watching her fall hitting her bottom on the floor. Finn the youngest Shelby brother at 3 years old starts laughing

"Come on YN I'll show you" he says holding her hand as she wobbly stands with the help off her mother "walk" he takes some steps with her then let's go of her hand. As YN gets more confident her speed picks up and she throws herself at Arthur. He picks her up and bounces her in his arms

"She walked!" he shouts excitedly as everyone else starts clapping and cheering while YN giggles in her uncles arms. He spins her around dancing with her in his arms. This was the start of YN's love of music and dancing.

8 Years Old:

YN's father and uncles finally return from war and end up at the garrison drinking. YN still loves music, always dancing which is what she has been doing all day

"Daddy please?" YN asks begging her father to dance with her

"No now YN" John sighs missing his late wife who passes away not that long ago. YN pouts, but her uncle Tommy steps in

"I'll dance with you. Come on" Tommy finishes his drink and stands up turning the record player up. YN wraps her arms around her uncles waist, standing on his feet.

16 Years Old:

After her first heartbreak she would of course go to her uncles about it. That's when Arthur suggests that they go to the garrison to have a drink and try to cheer YN up

"Ok then what happened?" Finn asks lifting his drink to take a sip

"He walked off laughing" YN says upset

"I'll fucking kill him" John grumbles. Esme, YNs stepmum tries to calm down her husband

"It's fine dad"

"YN he was your first love, it's ok to feel sad" Ada says hugging her niece

"I've got an idea" Grace smiles from behind the bar. She walks over to record player and start to play the record that's already on there "up you get"

"What are you doing Grace?" YN huffs not in the mood

"Your not sitting her drinking yourself silly" Grace pulls YN up and starts to dance "your not going to cry over him, your going to celebrate"

"Grace I'm really not in the mood"

"You know what Grace has a point. Come on YN" Esme says standing up joining YN and Grace

"Fine" YN sighs giving in and smiling slightly at her step mum.

As the even goes on and on, YN's dad and her uncles get quiet tipsy. Grace has changed the record many times and now YN is dancing with her uncles all laughing. It's the first time since the war that everyone was seen smiling and forgetting about the world around them.

21 Years Old:

YN's wedding was a bitter sweet day. She married the love of her life, but was missing her mum, dad and aunt Polly. Arthur was the one to walk her down the aisle while Tommy had the typical father daughter dance with his niece

"Thank you for today. It was perfect"

"Ya mum, dad and Poll would haunt me if I let anything go wrong" this makes YN chuckle

"I miss them"

"I know, but today is a day of celebration. To get drunk and dance the night away"

And that's what they did. YN got to dance with Tommy, Arthur and Finn, all her uncles tipsy

"You know we will kill 'im if he ever hurts you"

"I know Finn" YN laughs with her uncle "I don't think he'd do anything. Think he's to scared to even upset me"

"Good"

23 Years Old:

"Come on Harry" YN encourages her son who's just over a year old "you gonna walk for us?" but in response Harry babbles clapping his hands

"Music got you walking when you were his age" Arthur comments walking over to the record playing, turning it on

"Come on little man" Tommy pulls Harry up to his feet "maybe you want dance"

"You as well come on" Finn pulls YN up as music starts blaring through the house.

The house fills with laughs, dancing and cheers when Harry takes his first steps.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #john shelby x y/n #John Shelby x daughter #john shelby

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dearabby1990 · 6 months ago

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Chapter 37: Why can’t this be love

The surprise engagement party went off without a hitch. Everyone slowly showing up meeting extensions of your new family & receiving one of the warmest parental hugs you’ve ever gotten from Joyce & Wayne & Hopper who’ve known your mother way back in high school the constant reminder of how you look just like her warms your heart & soul. Having your best friend headline for your party to top it off gareth at the mic singing all your & Eddie’s favorites Van Halen “why can’t this be love” instrumentals dancing through the trees as everyone has the time of their life drinking laughing & becoming closer. Eddie swaying with you in the center of it all your head against his chest before he leans to whisper in your ear “I can’t wait to get you home & out of this dress you have no idea what you’re doing to me right now” his breath tickling your ear running along your spine all you could do was giggle and plan a kiss to the top of his nose “I love you Ed’s & I can’t wait to get my fiancé home either” you wink at him he nuzzles into you “I love the sound of that but I think wife sounds even better” he growls then you watch panic wash over his face “what’s wrong Eddie?” He pulls you off to the side “look princess I know you’ll be wanting to plan & all that jazz & that’s all fine & everything I want it to be perfect the best fuckin wedding this town has ever seen but… I wanna make sure we have the funds for such an event.. it’s gonna take me a bit but..” before he could finish you put a finger over his lips. It’s time to tell him not a lot of people know just your aunt & your cousins. If your father got wind of what you have he would’ve surely have gotten drunk with it & beaten you for the rest. “Eddie before you finish that sentence I have to tell you something..” he looks scared “sweetheart look at me okay look me in the eyes I promise you it’s nothing bad it’s just… okay when my mom found out she was pregnant with me she started a small trust for me her & my grandfather & he made her promise when he passed to put what he had left into it but that’s not all… my mom also had life insurance not just for her but for me too but then… then she got sick & then passed & so… I have these accounts that only me & very few people know about because Eddie listen to me okay?? If my father ever found out I was left even a dollar he’d come & beat the crap out of me & take it to get drunk” his eyes flash with multiple emotions & it has you feeling like you’re in fight or flight mode & Eddie’s starting to realize that so he grounds you from behind in a hug “id never let anyone hurt you… ever not for anything.. I love you & I don’t care about money just you” he turns you around cupping your face “I know that Eds it’s why I’m telling you.. I don’t want you killing yourself or working crazy hours for cakes and flowers I promise we have enough to pay for that & then some… now we’re not millionaires by any means but it’s enough to have our wedding.. buy a house & maybe even start a business I want to be smart & invest some too we’ll figure out those details later but for right now I wanna enjoy this in the moment with you..” he pulls you in smashing his lips against yours all you hear is a series of “aws whistling & dustins fake gagging sounds before gareth slaps him in the back of the head you see how sad Steve looks and have a small idea “stay right here love I'll be right back” you make your way through everyone to Steve & robin “hey you two mind if I borrow Steve a sec?” Robin smiles “by all means jame & congrats again I’m so happy for you” she squeezes you so hard it’s difficult to breathe before walking off to Nancy “hey Mr babysitter” you smile at him hand on his shoulder “hey Jame congratulations you look beautiful” you blush “thanks but um.. I wanted to ask you something my cousin Rachel is gonna be a bridesmaid & I know you’ll be a part of the wedding party too she’s single.. you’re single.. maybe you two should go out get to know each other” you wink at him before pointing her out.

You set Rachel & Steve up on a date watching them hit it off right away made you absolutely giddy inside before you knew it you & Eddie were saying goodbye & hopping into the car since Jeff had the band equipment & van plus Eddie loved driving Paula as much as you did something about the wind in our hair as we went home made life feel so freeing the street lights illuminating the town the sound of Elvin Bishop blasting throughout the car Eddie’s hand on your thigh as he sang to you loving moments like this 🎼”I fooled around & fell in love!!”🎼 both of your hair & his blowing across your faces you turn to him staring at him taking in the moment to tell your grandchildren years from now pulling into the driveway you didn’t give it a second the moment the engine cut you were out of your seat yanking Eddie from his pulling him up to the porch “hold your horses princess” he giggled as the door opened you pull him inside kicking the door shut behind you sliding your hand to his cheek pulling him in lips fitting like puzzle pieces his picks you up carrying you into the bedroom your legs wrapped around his waist not taking a second for air feeling completely dizzy but could care less what a way to die death by kisses & love. Eddie slams you up against the bedroom wall kissing down your neck lips gliding across your collarbone sliding down him you both wasted no time taking each others clothes off before you both knew it you were both nude and panting staring into each other’s eyes almost like you were looking into each other’s souls his hand cradles the back of your neck opening you up to him tongue swiping across your lips a silent plea you don’t hesitate hands in his hair he guides you to the bed knees hitting the edge as you softly fall upon the covers hair splayed across the pillows he looks at you like a work of art but touches you as if your made of glass. Hands dancing up your skin breaking out in goosebumps whimpering mess wanting to bare it all to each other you pull him up to you foreheads touching before he glides his cold rings & fingers across your aching heat you gasp & he chuckles “okay princess no teasing I promise tonight we make love” & with that he crashes his lips against yours once more hands wondering to your breasts parting your legs with his knee before nestling into you “should we get a condom shit I forgot” you look at him smiling “Ed’s we’re getting married I don’t think those matter anymore” you tuck a hair behind his ear he peppers your body in kisses before slowly entering you nails running down his back legs around his waist one of his hands on your hip the other on your cheek as he whispers the most loving sentiments making tears fill your lash line & soon a full stream as you bury your face into his neck letting him know you’ve never loved anyone as strongly as you do him the light of the moon glistening off of your body’s the sounds of your love the bed and bedsheets until you both finish body’s trembling both puffy lips and puffy eyes. Eddie truly never knew what it felt like to be unconditionally loved until he was loved by you at first it scared him but know he couldn’t be more happy to have taken that leap & with someone as amazing as you. He can’t wait to see what you look like in a wedding dress he just knows you look ethereal no matter what. He lays there in the dark with you watching you as you slowly drift into sleep playing with your ring finger smiling record player in the background Elton John “Mona Lisa’s & Mad hatters” lulling him off to sleep pulling you closer to his chest inhaling the scent of your shampoo as a comfort never feeling as content as he does in this very moment.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #eddie munson #robin buckley #stranger things fanfic #gareth emerson x reader #steve harrington x y/n

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gh0stcarnival · 2 years ago

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so, the tumblr gods rejected this ask on burythecarnival but, this exchange was too good not to post 🖤:

um, thanks to mystery science theater 3000, i call it "the drunk aunt at the wedding dance" & you can call whoever would enjoy dancing with me 👻

#ghost queen #goth dance #mst3k #i'm weird ok?#support sex workers #me

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k1spiegel · 6 months ago

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rundown of the past four days around bub's wedding (today included):

thursday:

got picked up by my aunt (and her friend. and a diff aunt's granddaughter) around like 8

spend the night at her house bc its close to the airport i was leaving out of

friday:

aunt and uncle drive me to the airport

my first flight is delayed enough to the point where i'd be getting into california at 9 pm if i got on it. they find a diff flight to replace it whichll get me in around 6

that flight also gets delayed by a storm

extremely scary first time flying

four hour layover with my second flight being delayed by a different storm

picked up by mom and driven to the rv her and dad took to california to sleep there for two nights

SAW BUB YAAAAY

saturday:

wake up at 7 to start getting ready for the wedding (11:30 am)

hang out w riz eric and bub for a bit beforehand

cried at the wedding multiple times

cried at the reception multiple times

that happened

didnt drink but did dance and hung out w riz and eric a lot

have kind of a shitty night after the reception bc mom got drunk enough to struggle walking (as an older disabled woman in heels. me and dad helped her .)

fall asleep at like 10 pm

sunday (today):

wake up at 4 with dad because my flights at 6

first flight goes perfectly fine. great. three hours no issue

40 minute layover in dallas (nightmare airport.) turns into about an hour because of. idk. misc delay

i got really scared in dallas bc of the escalators so i took an elevator

rough as fuck flight back because of storms because were flying to fucking florida

when we land the bridge to connect to our plane breaks so we had to be rescued via emergency staircase.

get picked up by a family friend and taken home to where i am: now

#k1.txt #im so tired.

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electronicgrowth · 2 years ago

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Burned

A/N: I have no idea where this fic came from. I wrote it when I was drunk tbh. I may add to it at some point idk. I kinda love the whole dark!Aemond thing. Also, I picked names of Greek origins for my female original characters because Rhea is a Greek name. So, I just kept that theme up. And I played Hermia in Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream in high school, so the name is dear to me. Aemond Targaryen x f!Royce!Targaryen!originalcharacter.

Summary: Daemon Targaryen’s daughter that he had with Lady Rhea Royce gets caught in the middle of the Dance of Dragons. She doesn’t want to be involved. And she really does not wish to involve Runestone in a petty Targaryen squabble. What happens when Aemond forces her to pick a side?

WC: 4.8k

Warnings: non-con, rough sex, breeding kink, (a little) biting, absentee father bullshit (thanks Daemon), also incest (cousins) but it’s HOTD so you already know lol

Hermia Targaryen had never considered herself a true Targaryen. She had grown up at Runestone, away from her father, Prince Daemon. She had been born only months before her mother died, or was killed, depending on what you chose to believe. Her mother gifted her with a name better fit to House Royce than House Targaryen. She even had dark curls. The only tell, aside from her Valyrian surname, were her eyes. Hermia had unique eyes. Closest to her iris the eyes had a hazel color, but it melded into a deep purple. The kind of purple that only Valyrian’s had.

Mia grew up far from the influence of her father. She was raised by other members of House Royce. And while she felt the loss of her mother, she never felt that for her father. She did not attend his second, or third wedding. She had also never met his two most recent children. She met her half-sisters only once, at their mother’s funeral. She had met Daemon’s step children. But that was when they were simply her cousins. She would travel to and from King’s Landing as a child. She would visit her aunt, uncle, and cousins at least once a year. Aegon couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to her until she puberty. Then he paid far too much attention to her. Helaena had always been kind and they shared a kinship as the only girls in the keep, but they were interested by vastly different things. Daeron had always been too little, so she never really got to know him. And Mia found Rhaenyra’s children to be grating and needy. She enjoyed Aemond’s company, despite the fact that he was a rather mercurial child. They had fun together and Mia was a shoulder to cry on whenever his brother or cousins picked on him for not having a dragon. House Royce did not wish to wed Mia to Aegon, such a union would take her away from Runestone for too long. So, Aegon wed Helaena. And Aemond truly believed that he and Mia would one day wed. He would be Lord of Runestone with her. And they would have countless children. It was all he dreamed of.

But then the visits stopped happening. And Aemond heard tell of a betrothal. A wedding followed closely behind the news of a betrothal. A man from a vassal house of house Royce was to be her husband, House Tollett. The Royce’s had insisted on the union. No man outside of the Vale was considered for Mia’s husband. Despite the fact that she had already been married, she retained her name. She’d had one daughter. But her husband had died in a hunting accident, leaving her a widow at twenty, before the birth of her only child.

Mia named her baby Eudora. It was a traditional name for house Royce. It also meant ‘excellent gift’. And Dorie was an excellent gift to Mia. The sunshine for all her cloudy days. Dorie had inherited Mia’s dark curls. But was fortunate to have gotten her father’s bright blue eyes. Dorie was everything to Mia. And Mia saw no point in marrying again, she had her heir. All her energies were devoted to ruling Runestone and raising her daughter. Dorie was to take the name Royce upon taking over Runestone.

At the age of four and twenty, Mia received her first ever letter from her father. The letter was beseeching Hermia to back Princess Rhaenyra as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Yet, House Royce had already received a raven from King’s Landing stating that Aegon was king. The letter further explained that the crown had been supplanted from Rhaenyra, and as his daughter, Daemon expected Hermia to offer Runestone’s support of the Queen.

Mia wrote her father back to simply say that Runestone had no interest in participating in the petty squabbles of the royal family. And she would not subject their resources or their people to a war that truly had nothing to do with them, beyond taxes and whose ass they would have to kiss. Mia thought that was the end of it. And for a while it was.

Until Mia got news that Prince Lucerys Velaryon was killed at Storm’s End by Prince Aemond Targaryen. The details were vague, but it seemed as if the pair’s dragons were involved. She felt justified in her decision to not get involved with the issue of succession. But then, another raven came from King’s Landing. The Hand of the King was asking that Mia bend the knee to Aegon. She responded in a similar manner as she had to her father. She stated that House Royce wished not to involve itself in the fight. She was not expecting a reaction from the crown. She knew Aegon. She had met him a few times when she went to visit King’s Landing. But she hadn’t been there in over ten years. She barely remembered her cousins.

It was a cold, cloudy day. Not so cold that snow could be sustained, but cold enough that the air had a bite to it. Mia had taken Dorie out to ride. Both mother and daughter loved the feeling of the wind in their hair and the sting on their cheeks. Hermia had just arrived back at the castle with Dorie. Her cousin, Gerrold, was nervously milling about the barn.

“Cousin,” she chuckled, “You look nervous. What ever is the matter?” She lifted little Dorie off the saddle as she spoke, setting the child on the ground.

“My Lady. Prince Aemond is in the hall,” Gerrold said apprehensively, not making eye contact with her.

“Prince Aemond? Here?” Mia asked, she was confused. When was the last time any member of the royal been to Runestone? And Prince Aemond? He had never even been to the Vale before. Dorie could not read her mother’s change in mood and decided to interrupt her mother’s nervous thoughts.

“Mama,” the little girl began, pulling at her mother’s riding tunic, “may I have some cake for lunch?” Dorie had a mischievous look in her eyes.

“Darling, it sounds as if mama has some business to attend to, perhaps, Septa Erydice could go with you to eat a proper lunch,” Mia suggested. Dorie pouted up at her mother, but she did not argue. Dorie’s handmaiden met the trio outside the main hall, to take the child to lunch. Mia wished that she had an opportunity to change. But protocol demanded that she meet the prince immediately. Yet she took off her outer clothes to avoid smelling of horse, leaving her in a long, knee-length tunic and slacks. She took a deep breath and pushed the doors open to the hall. The hall was long, stone. The windows were high, so dull light from the cloudy day struggled to light the hall. The torches were nearly always lit. Although, there were three torches that had clearly burnt out. Mia flushed in embarrassment. That would never happen in King’s Landing. Prince Aemond did not turn around. Surely he had heard the door open. But he stayed where he was, gazing up at the stitched House Royce coat of arms that was hung upon the stone wall. All she could see was his long, sleek silver hair and dark clothing.

“Prince Aemond,” Mia called. Finally, he turned to meet his cousin. Mia was shocked at how handsome the prince had grown to be in the last ten years. He had sharp facial features, and lips that, if they belonged to anyone else, Mia might desire to kiss. He was practically other-worldly beautiful. The only thing that marred his appearance was the scar that ran down his face, and the eyepatch. Souvenirs from the loss of his eye in childhood. Although, Mia thought the scar and eyepatch just added to his mystique.

“Lady Hermia. How nice of you to finally join me,” Aemond chided, his perfect, pink lips moving into a smirk as he spoke, “And in your riding clothes no less.”

“I apologize. If I had known you were coming I would have been here to greet you. In a gown, of course,” Mia countered with narrowed eyes. Mia walked forward to stand next Aemond. He stared down at her in amusement, for he was much taller than her now, almost the opposite of the last time they saw one another.

“How can I help you, your grace?” She asked, impatiently, spitting his title at him with disdain.

“I wish to speak about your response to my brother, King Aegon,” he replied.

“You will have to be more specific, Your Grace. I am in correspondence with many people.”

“Your response to his demand that you bend the knee.”

“What of my response?”

“It was unacceptable.”

“Unacceptable?” Mia laughed, throwing her head back. Aemond looked over her shoulder at Gerrold and other men that had entered the hall behind her.

“Perhaps, we might speak alone, cousin,” the Prince suggested. Mia exhaled in annoyance, before turning to speak.

“Leave us,” she commanded her men. Gerrold hesitated. The last time he left a woman of House Royce alone with a Targaryen man, she died.

“Gerrold, it is fine. Please go.” He nodded at the younger woman before leaving.

“Speak plainly,” Mia commanded. Without any witnesses she shirked the politeness that should have been reserved for a member of the royal family and adopted the tone of an older cousin chastising a younger cousin.

“King Aegon wishes to know who you declare for.”

“As I said in my raven, I will not declare for anyone. It is not in the best interest of House Royce to supply either side with our resources or men,” Mia said with a roll of her eyes.

“You expect us to believe that you will not declare for your father’s wife?”

“My father,” she laughed bitterly, “I would never declare for that man’s side. He killed my mother. If I were to declare, I would declare for Aegon merely to spite my father. But truly, I do not wish to be involved.”

“Again,” Aemond explained in a condescending voice, “that is not an acceptable answer. You have to declare one way or another.”

“No, I do not. I may be a Targaryen in name, but I do not wish to be involved in this family drama.”

“You may not wish it, but you are a member of this family, my Lady. You must choose.”

“I must? From what I hear House Arryn has declared for Rhaenyra. Should I not follow the lead of our overlords? We are simply a vassal to a bigger house.” Mia countered.

“Perhaps, it is the fact that you are a member of the family that no one has involved you,” Aemond suggested, “But the Hand of King remembers what your father said about your mother, and the Vale, during the reign of King Viserys. He had no love for your mother or your home. It would be in your best interest to declare for King Aegon.”

“Oh? And pray tell, what could King Aegon offer me?”

“Would you not wish for the advancement of House Royce? The King could make your house overlord of the Vale.”

“I do not wish to supplant House Arryn as the overlord for the Vale.” Aemond chuckled at her response.

“You are a woman. Without a husband. You have only the backing of your own house. Do you truly believe that all the members of this house wish to have a woman leading them? Aegon could reaffirm your position. Help you keep your seat. He could even help your house advance, then who would speak out against you?” Aemond said.

“I have heard no rumblings of discontent from members of my house. I have served my house to the best of my ability.”

“Then perhaps, I shall offer you safety for yourself and your daughter. I came here on Vhagar, my Lady.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Perhaps,” Aemond chuckled.

“Do you threaten every house that does not declare for your brother? Or am I just lucky?” He laughed at the question.

“I would say you are quite unlucky, my Lady. Where is your daughter right now?”

Mia’s eyes widened.

“Excuse me?”

“Your daughter. Eudora, isn’t it? Do you know where she is? She may be with her handmaiden as you bade her. But whose to say I came alone?” Mia turned and was about to run to her daughter’s rooms.

“Ohh, kēlītsos. Not so fast,” Aemond laughed. He was quick to grab her by her waist, pulling her back into him, her back to his front. He towered over Mia, he had to bend forward to bring his lips to her ear.

“Kēlītsos,” he said again— what did that word even mean?— “You will escape today with your life. But only you and your daughter. This visit was not to negotiate with you, rather to distract you. Your cousin, Robar Royce, wrote to the King with terms of his own. He wishes to be the head of House Royce. He wishes to rid this house of its two Targaryens. And in exchange for supplanting you, House Royce will bend the knee to King Aegon.”

“What use is Runestone to your cause that you are so determined to win our favor, even if it means stripping me of my birthright?” Mia asked as she struggled in Aemond’s arms.

“It is a foothold in the Vale. So very close to Gulltown. We can take the Vale from the inside,” Aemond had pulled Mia back further into him, arms tightening around her waist, “Robar suggested that we kill you and your daughter, but now I think that I have a better use for you. Lord Borros Baratheon declared for my brother after I offered myself in a marriage pact. But I care not for any of his plain daughters. I offered Lord Borros a fortune to get out of this betrothal. And I’m so glad I did. How better to ensure the loyalty of House Royce than to marry their Lady. To elevate you to a princess would elevate the entire house. Although, once we wed you’ll be a princess so the responsibilities of running the house will be far too involved. So, you would have to release the title of Lady of Runestone to Robar.”

“No, no,” Mia struggled against Aemond’s grip, “I will not wed again.”

“Your love for your first husband too great?” Aemond mocked, as he breathed in the scent of her curls. She smelled so sweet.

“No, my love for my daughter. I am committed to her and my house.”

“Your house would sooner see you and your child dead than continue to have a lady running it. Would you truly die for your house? When it cares so little for you? When you have a child to protect?” Aemond wrestled Mia to the ground. He straddled her hips to pin her down. His hands grabbed hers and stared down at her. Mia’s eyes were wide with fear.

“Please, you don’t have to do this. I will take Dorie and leave. Or I will bend the knee to Aegon. Whatever you want.” Mia suggested in panic, her legs flailing behind Aemond’s back.

“I could allow that,” Aemond considered, “However, you are a Targaryen, even if you don’t look like one. And I wish for my children to have Valyrian blood from both of their parents. And if it’s whatever I want, I have something very specific in mind.” Mia was attempting to tug her hands from Aemond’s as he spoke. It was all for naught. Aemond moved and gripped both of Mia’s hands in one of his above her head. His free hand slid to his cloak, he pulled out a blade. Mia froze, her heart beat erratically in her ears. Mia was regretting that she took off her outer wear, as Aemond easily sliced open her tunic. He licked his lips at the sight of her bare chest, before returning the blade to its place under his cloak. His free hand groped at Mia’s breasts, playing with one before the other, making sure to focus on her nipples as he went. His hands were rough, callused from years of sword training. He smelled like smoke and leather. It would almost be comforting, if Mia weren’t so alarmed. Aemond traced her upper body almost in reverence. His hand trailed down her belly to the ratty, old trousers she was wearing. He released her hands, both of his hands went to pull her trousers off. Mia took the opportunity to scratch at Aemond’s face. He hissed in anger, before pinning her hands back down at full force. Four scratch marks raked down his face.

“Careful kēlītsos. I can make this nice for you, if only you submit to me,” he hummed as his nose trailed along her jaw, “Or if you continue to fight me, I can fuck you bloody. It doesn’t matter to me, I’m going to take you either way.” Mia whimpered. “Sagon nykeā sȳz hāedar.”

“I-I don’t know w-what you’re saying,” Mia admitted in a breathy voice.

“You don’t speak Valyrian?”

“No, the masters here don’t know the language. I had no one to teach me.”

“I’ll have to teach you, then,” Aemond murmured as he reached for the shreds of Mia’s ruined tunic. He quickly tied her wrists together, before Mia could even react to having free hands. With both his hands free, Aemond returned to Mia’s breasts. With one hand he squeezed one breast, but he brought his lips to her other breast. He began suckling gently. It vaguely reminded Mia of breastfeeding, except it felt good. He laved his tongue over her nipple as he worked. Mia unwillingly began to buck her hips, searching for friction. He released the nipple and began sucking a bruise onto the underside of her breast, making eye contact with Mia as he did so. Then Aemond moved his mouth to the other breast, but rather than take her nipple in his mouth, he bit down gently at the top of her breast. And he bit down hard. Mia screamed, shocked by the sudden onset of pain Not only were impressions of his teeth left, but she was bleeding. She whimpered a bit, before Aemond returned his hands to her trousers. He moved so that he sat on his knees between Mia’s thighs. He made quick work of removing the trousers, revealing Mia’s long, supple legs. And leaving Mia totally nude on the rough, cold, stone floor. Aemond’s eyes raked over the figure of the woman in front of him. Her breasts were perky despite already having had a child, her tummy soft, protecting her thick hips. Hips that would give him heirs. She would have no trouble birthing children with hips like hers. And of course, between her legs, was the most perfect cunt Aemond had ever laid eyes on. And she was glistening already.

“Gevie,” he murmured in reverence. He had been waiting to take Mia since he was twelve years old. Since he lost his eye. Upon seeing the confused look on Mia’s face, he explained, “Beautiful. Gevie means beautiful in high Valyrian. Although beautiful doesn’t begin to describe this body. It’s perfect. These hips were made to bear my sons.” Mia panicked at the final sentence. She wriggled, trying to get away from him. She had no wish to bear his sons. But his grip was far too strong for her. Aemond could no longer contain himself. He leaned forward to press his lips to Mia’s. She didn’t respond as his lips moved against her mouth, until he bit down hard on her lower lip. Hard enough to draw blood. The metallic taste filled her mouth.

“Kiss me,” he commanded, barely pulling back from her lips, one hand tightening around Mia’s throat. She gasped before throwing her head forward in panic. Trying to comply quickly. Aemond claimed her mouth, moving his tongue against hers. Even with the taste of blood, she tasted so sweet. The hand that was around her throat moved down to rub Mia’s clit. Unintentionally, she began bucking her hips. Aemond smirked into the kiss. She liked this, that much was evident by her little moans. She was so clearly trying to silence any sound she made, trying not to give him the satisfaction. That wouldn’t do.

Aemond plunged two fingers into Mia. And she let out a surprised squeak. He quickly pumped his fingers in and out of her, his while arm moved with the rapidness of his ministrations. She got wet quickly.

“By how wet you are, I almost think that you like this, kēlītsos. Kitten,” he explained the Valyrian word before she could even think to ask.

“No,” she whined, shaking her head quickly. Her long, curly hair was starting to fall from the single braid she’d had it in to ride. Aemond moved to release the remainder of her hair from its tie. Aemond thought she had beautiful curls, he wished to see how wild her hair would look after a long night of taking her, claiming her, filling her. Gods, what would she look like satiated? What would she look like begging for him? What would she look like pregnant? Feeding his son from her breast? The thought alone made him thrust harder into her.

“Oh, you want it,” he responded, her legs were starting to shake. She was close. Aemond pulled his fingers from her heat and she let out a disappointed huff. “Beg for it. Beg for my cock. I know you want it.” Mia trembled. “Come on, sweetie,” he whispered, “Just say ‘please’ and I can make you feel so good.”

Her resolve broke, “Please Aemond.”

“Please what?” He prodded.

“Please Aemond, please fuck me,” she begged.

Finally, Aemond sat up on his knees to remove his own cloak. He was done playing. He pushed his slacks down just enough to release his cock. He was beyond pleased by the surprised look on Mia’s face when she looked down. He knew that he was well-endowed comparatively, but she looked positively shocked.

“That— that won’t fit,” she gasped. In her shock, Mia inadvertently stroked Aemond’s ego with her comment.

“Oh, but it will,” Aemond laughed wickedly. He ran his cock along the lips of her pussy, spreading her wetness.

“Did your Lord Husband have difficulty fitting inside you?” He mocked.

“No, but—“ Mia cut herself off. Aemond rested the tip of his length against her entrance.

“But what?” He feigned innocence, but his eyes glowed with mischief. Mia shook her head, she didn’t want to answer, but it didn’t really matter. Aemond knew.

“Let me guess,” he chuckled, “Your husband was far smaller? I wonder, did your husband ever get you this wet?” Aemond traced one finger along her slit, before bringing the finger up to Mia’s face and showing her all of the wetness he had collected. Mia simply trembled. Aemond slapped her across the face. She let out a shriek.

“Answer me when I ask you a question,” he commanded, angrily. Mia noted how quickly his mood could change.

“No. No, he never got me that wet,” she finally admitted.

“He must have barely touched you then.”

“He would only kiss me before he went inside me,” she explained.

“What a pity,” Aemond tutted, “I bet you look beautiful when you cum. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you enjoy my cock, even if you think you don’t want to.” And with that final sentence he thrust into her. Mia screamed at the intrusion. He didn’t immediately begin to move, but that was to be the only reprieve that Mia was to be granted, because he began to move shortly after. He began to thrust in and out of her in earnest. Tears leaked down her face. The stretch was painful. But underneath all the pain, was a sliver of pleasure.

“Gods, you are so tight,” he moaned. His mouth latched to Mia’s neck where he started to suck numerous bruises. He wanted— no, he needed to mark her. In this moment, Aemond knew that Hermia Targaryen was his. He just needed to show the rest of the world. And her, apparently.

With steady thrusts the intense pain began to subside, giving way to pleasure only. Without the distraction of pain, Mia had to come to terms with the fact that wetness was leaking onto her thighs and to the stone floor beneath her. She glanced down to where she and Aemond met, and she could see that she wasn’t the only one being coated in her wetness. His cock, his pelvis, even his thighs were wet. He caught her looking down at where they were joined. He was quick to cup the back of her neck, so she would be forced to watch herself take him.

“Look at how you take me, kēlītsos,” he groaned, “Enjoying yourself so much. Your cunt just keeps pulling me back in. So wet, so tight. I’ve been dreaming about taking you like this since the first day I met you. And by the way you’re taking me makes me think you’ve thought of it too.”

“No,” she whimpered in response, but it wasn’t convincing at all. The entire hall was filled with the sound of Aemond’s hips meeting her’s and the squelching from her wetness.

“Oh yes.” His hand reached down to rub gentle circles on her clit. Then Mia’s legs began to shake. Something was happening. There was a tightness in her lower belly. A pleasurable fire. Mia began gasping and moaning, the moans becoming higher pitched each time Aemond bottomed out inside of her.

“Shit,” she gasped. Aemond simply smiled, his long silver hair sticking to his sweaty neck, but that didn’t stop him from thrusting harder.

“Ohhh, are you going to cum, sweetie?” He cruelly mocked, “That’s okay. Let go for me.” It wasn’t long before the spasms started. Mia had never felt anything like it. Her legs shook and her insides quivered. She let out the most beautiful sounds as she came around Aemond. His hips faltered as she rode out her orgasm. “Doesn’t that feel so good, sweetie? Only I can give you that.”

Tears streamed down Mia’s face, she was half crying, half moaning. The pleasure was intense and unbelievable. How could he be making her feel this good? She didn’t want it. But it was so, so good. And that was what made it all so humiliating. She didn’t want to feel good, but she did. What did finding enjoyment in this savage ravishing of her body say about her as a woman? It wasn’t even just that physically it felt good. It was erotic, she didn’t want it to end. He was so handsome. The kind of man she had dreamed about marrying as a little girl. She wanted Aemond Targaryen to fuck her like this everyday of her life. The unfairness of it all made Mia cry harder. Yet, Aemond was still chasing his own release.

“I’m so close,” he moaned, “Gonna give you my seed. Get you round with my baby. Would you like that kēlītsos?” Mia shook her head rapidly back and forth. “Oh, I think you would love it. And I’m going to make sure I get you with child. This cunt is far too sweet not to thoroughly enjoy. Not to fuck everyday.”

“Please, Aemond, don’t,” Mia begged. She hadn’t said his name yet. Aemond’s hips stuttered.

“Say it again,” he commanded. Mia looked up at him, extremely confused.

“My name. Say my name,” he demanded. She hesitated. “Say it.”

“Aemond,” it was half a moan and half a plea.

“Gods, my name sounds so good when it falls from your lips,” he groaned, he was picking up his speed again, hand roughly gripping her hips. His grip would undoubtedly leave bruises.

“Beg for my cum,” he commanded. Mia sealed her lips tightly shut. Aemond started to punctuate his thrusts sharply, before slapping Mia across the face again.

“Fucking beg for my cum.” He slapped her as he finished that sentence too.

“Please give me your cum,” she whimpered out, stuck between wanting this to be over and never wanting it to stop.

“Oh, kēlītsos. I think you can do better than that.”

“Please Aemond. Please cum inside me. I need you to come inside me,” she begrudgingly moaned.

“You are mine,” he growled, hips stuttering as he chased his high, “Mine. Mine. Mine.” He groaned and grunted as he finished. His cum flooding Mia’s cunt. Aemond panted, trying to catch his breath, before claiming Mia’s lips.

“All mine,” he hummed as he pulled out of her. He stared at his cum leaking out of her. His eyes flicked up to her face. Her cheek was red where he’d slapped her. Her lips were swollen where he’d bitten them. Her eyes were watery and rimmed red, this only serves to bring out the purple in them more. She was gorgeous. And now she was his.

Author’s note:

Sagon nykeā sȳz hāedar= be a good girl

#aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #aemond the kinslayer #prince aemond #aemond targaryen x oc #hotd aemond #house of the dragon #aemond smut

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