#it's not new years without some when harry met sally | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fayes-fics · 1 year ago

Text

It Had To Be You: Chapter 9 - Nobody Else Gave Me A Thrill

Masterpost PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU

Summary: You two finally figure it all out on New Year's Eve...

artwork credit @colettebronte

Warnings: none, really… just some swearing and love confessions.

Word Count: 3.8k

Authors Note: A multi-chapter modern rom-com retelling of When Harry Met Sally. Here we are; this is the final chapter! Both reader and Benedict finally see the truth. There will be a short, hopefully humourous epilogue to this story as well, which I will post tomorrow. Thanks to @colettebronte for betaing. I hope you have all enjoyed this fic <3

For the next few weeks, the dreary weather, the clocks changing, and the chilly nights drawing in match your sullen mood. Your argument with Benedict at the wedding made you so sad but resolute to try and put it behind you.

It's the last weekend in November when you are buying a Christmas tree that you feel the worst. Making a mess of dragging the tree back to your place alone, leaving a trail of needles behind you, you stop halfway and slump onto a doorstep. Recalling with perfect clarity how you and Benedict had bought one together from the same man the previous year, laughing carefree as you easily carried it between you. Then you drank mulled wine as you haphazardly threw on lights and ornaments, dancing to cheesy Christmas songs. It's what you miss the most—his companionship, the ease of time spent with one of your favourite people.

Just as you are wrestling the tree through your front door, exhausted, sweaty and prickled by a thousand tiny shitty needles that seem to have it out for you, your phone pings with a message.

BB: I'm sorry for how things ended at the wedding. I've been thinking about it for weeks now. Please call me. I want to talk.

Pride (and your current disastrous had-a-fight-with-a-tree-and-lost appearance) stops you from doing what you genuinely want to—picking up your phone and Facetiming him to sort it all out.

Not ready yet.

Two weeks later, it's mid-December, and you are sitting cross-legged on your living room floor with a big glass of wine, wrapping presents for friends, when your phone pings again. For a while now, almost every day, he has been sending links to Insta posts with adorable and hilarious content. Each of which you have enjoyed but couldn't bring yourself to reply to. This time, it’s a message.

BB: If you are available at the moment, please call me.

You stare at the little pop-up notification and take a gulp, a weird weight in your chest at the idea you might cave this time. Perhaps. Once you are done wrapping this gift. A few minutes later, your phone pings again.

BB: Okay, I assume no call means:

BB: (A) you can't take a call right now

BB: (B) you can, but you don't want to talk to me or

BB: (C) you desperately do want to talk to me but are trapped under something heavy

BB: If it's A or C, please call me back later, doesn't matter what time

BB: Also, if it’s C, please call 999 if you are in danger, then call me after. I don't have any heavy-lifting equipment…

You can't help but giggle at his gentle, silly humour, attempting to diffuse the tension. A large part of you wants to call; you even have the phone in your hand, but at the last minute, you rest it against your forehead with a sigh, something stopping you. Your stupid rebound fling being the biggest one, Benedict’s cutting remark about how quickly you let someone else into your bed, making your stomach roil.

Still not ready yet.

—

“Obviously, she doesn't want to speak to me,” Benedict laments, his words muffled into a scatter cushion on Kate and Anthony’s sofa.

It's the morning after they've returned from honeymoon, three days before Christmas. While they are thankful Benedict popped over with some basics to make breakfast, they could do without his melancholy—they’re much more about a ‘let’s have newlywed sex on the kitchen table’ vibe.

“What do I have to do? Get hit over the head? Be in some calamitous accident?” Benedict whines, twisting his head in aggravation as if trying to burrow himself head-first into the furniture.

‘What do we do?’ Anthony mouths to Kate, who throws her hands up defeatedly.

‘How should I know?’ she mouths back, frowning. ‘He's your brother.’

‘Your friend's fault,’ Anthony shoots back.

Kate crosses her arms and gets a look like a sour lemon, and he instantly regrets that line.

Benedict lifts his head to look up at them, and she has to stifle a giggle behind her hand at the deep red imprint of the cushion zipper on his forehead.

“If she wants to talk to me. She will call me back, right? I'm done with making an idiot of myself….” Benedict claims boldly.

You are sitting on the sofa at your childhood home early evening on Christmas Day, almost disgustingly full of Baileys (your mum's tipple of choice on this day) and Christmas pud, watching The Wrong Trousers - a family tradition - when your phone pings with a message.

It's from Benedict and your stomach vaults. You honestly thought after more than a week of silence, he had given up trying. And part of you was so sad. There is no text this time, just a video attachment. You excuse yourself to the downstairs cloakroom, taking a seat on the closed lid of the toilet, intrigued as to what it is.

The video starts with him looking directly into the camera, his handsome face filling the frame and making your stomach swoop again. Fuck, you have missed seeing it.

“Merry Christmas y/n. I hope you are having a nice time. I miss you, and I hate how we left things,” he opens honestly, “and when Bridgertons don't know what to do, we always act stupidly. It's our ‘thing’. So here, You can blame this on my genetics...”

The video cuts to black briefly and then fades into him, a huge 6ft lump, crowded behind a plastic toy piano on the floor, probably one of Daphne’s kids' toys. You instantly giggle at the ridiculous visual as he apes a maestro, closes his eyes as if about to play Chopin, and flexes his hands. Then, the tinny, electric sound of some familiar notes being played hesitantly begins. He isn't exactly a natural pianist.

“Hey, I didn't just meet you, And this is crazy,

You know my number, So call me maybe,

It's hard to feel right without you, lady

You know my number, so call me, maybe…”

You are instantly laughing. He's such an adorable, charming idiot. Sitting behind a miniature plastic piano and playing, half in earnest, half in jest. At least his voice can hold a semi-decent tune. It brings an affectionate mist to your eyes even as it continues…

“Before you came into my life, I missed you so bad

I missed you so bad; I missed you so, so bad

Before you came into my life, I missed you so bad

And you should know that, I miss you now… so, so bad….”

For the last few words, he slows down the song and looks directly down the lens pointedly.

Something in his pleading look is the straw that breaks the camel's back proverbially, and with a slight tremor in your hand, you scroll to his name and hit the FaceTime button before you can think twice about it. The sound of the tone, as it rings, feels so loud, and each crisp ‘bringggg’ makes your nerves jangle. Just as you are about to hang up, the call connects.

“I'm sorry it took me so long to answer. I had to find a private spot.” he sounds a little winded.

“Where are you?” you frown, an unfamiliar background behind him.

“My childhood bedroom. Aubrey Hall.”

“Oh my god! Show me!” You enthuse, your initial equivocation derailed by nosiness, which you decide to frame instead in your mind as mere curiosity. You never got to see it the wedding weekend for, well, reasons you don't want to dwell on right now.

He quickly flips the camera around, giving you an audio-guided tour of the room he grew up in. Dark blue walls with framed posters for his beloved Blur alongside Travis, Radiohead and Shaun of the Dead. Silly stick-on glow-in-the-dark stars on the high ceiling that are likely too high for anyone to bother getting out a ladder and peeling off. Shelves with little wooden car models he made with his dad before he died, mixed in with certificates of achievement from school, shiny brass archery trophies, and his early sketches in those cheap snap-in frames. And lastly, a collection of jagged small rocks and colourful pebbles. It makes you feel so very affectionate for little teenage Benedict.

“You are bloody adorable!” you blurt out, almost forgetting all the awkwardness from the past few weeks.

The camera flips around, and his lopsided grin fills the screen. “Thank you. I try to make a habit of it…”

You smile back and then sigh. “I’ve missed this,” you confess quietly, wistfully.

“I’ve missed this too. You. Us. Can we please be friends again? Please? I know we both have a lot of things to talk about. With that night and all… but… can we reset? I need you, Bluey. I am miserable without my best friend,” he pouts, his raw honesty making your chest ache.

It’s exactly how you feel, too. Except with a massive pang of regret that he seems to want to forget your magical night together. Sex is never like that, at least not for you—electric and addictive. Doing a reset to save your friendship feels like the most logical step. Still, it doesn’t stop the “what if” fantasies running in your head with increasing frequency, especially on a day like today—nostalgia, sentiment and overindulgence swirling in your being.

“I would like us to be friends again,” you exhale, a lie by slight omission, drumming your fingertips on your cheek nervously to stop you from saying more.

“Wonderful! Then it is so! I can’t wait to see you again! Are you going to the New Year's party? The one Simon & Daph are hosting at the Sky Terrace? Cos if you are, I was wondering, if you don’t have a date if we could go together? We always said we would be each other's plus one if neither of us is with anyone…”

That he wants to completely reset to that world makes your heart crack. You want to scream at him, ‘No! I want to be your real date! Pick me, for real, this time!’

“I… can’t do that,” you waver, and it comes off sounding tired.

“You have a date?” It’s soft, hesitant, trepidatious.

“No…” you admit, “I just don’t think it’s a good idea to go together like that. I… I can’t be your consolation prize anymore, Benedict,” you blurt out, the hurt taking over your tongue.

The look of stunned surprise on his face makes it worse. As if he had never even seen it from that perspective.

“That’s not what I….” he begins but is interrupted by a loud door bang as it slams into the wall and a yelling voice.

“Stop fucking hiding and get your bloody arse back downstairs. You can’t miss family dinner on Christmas Day!” Colin scolds loudly offscreen.

“I’ve got to go…,” he sighs reluctantly as an arm manhandles him up and off the bed. “Merry Christmas,” he adds, belatedly realising you both forgot to say it earlier on the call.

“Whoever it is, hang up. No one is more important than family on Christmas,” Colin gripes. “That’s it, I’m taking your phone…”.

The screen is filled with random shapes and loud noises as they seem to wrestle like children. And then the call suddenly disconnects.

You sigh and tip sideways against the cold tile of your parents' cloakroom wall.

Merry Christmas, indeed.

Benedict takes stock of his surroundings. December 31st, 11:00pm, lying on his stomach on his sectional chaise, staring up at the big flatscreen on his wall.

This isn't so bad… he tries to convince himself. I've got Jools Holland’s Hootenanny - the only decent New Year's programme, some Glenfiddich and Mini Cheddars - the best snack there is…

He sighs and realises how pathetic he sounds, even in his own mind, alone in an empty flat.

The man whirls you around, and you are almost thrown straight into Kate and Anthony.

“I should never have let you drag me to this,” you grouse so only they can hear.

They both shoot you an apologetic look until you are whipped away again. This man’s dancing style is more akin to a waltzer amusement ride than anything sensual or fun. Your shoulder is already aching. It's a far cry from the surprising salsa Benedict pulled out of the bag last New Year’s Eve. And the idle thought of him has you spiralling…

“Mind if we stop?” you puff as the band finishes the song with a flourish. He’s some slick European investment banking type, and really, you couldn't give two shits about offending him, merely your ingrained politeness kicking in.

He nods and goes off to grab drinks as you stand, hands on hips, trying to gather your breath as you watch all the people moving like a mass of limbs on the crowded dancefloor as the following number begins.

Why the fuck am I here?

This is much better… Benedict rationalises to himself as he wanders down the rainy, empty East London streets not far from his Hoxton pad. Who needs to be at a big, crowded party pretending to have a good time?

He pauses outside a trendy shop on Old St, selling overpriced crap that he's not even sure what it is.

See? I can do some window shopping. He tells himself silently—clutching at anything to distract himself from the creeping sense of dread in his gut. A slow twisting knife as he thinks about you dancing the night away, ringing in the New Year with some fancy, handsome man who definitely doesn't deserve you.

What does it matter to me? We are just friends. Best friends… the only friend I ever want to see every day… the only one who truly matters….

He has thought about how to repair the damage between you so much over the last few weeks that he's exhausted himself. Really, he just wants you back. All of you, ideally, but being realistic, any part of yourself you will let back into his life. The suggestion of a reset he made on Christmas Day being his cowardly way out.

—

You are fake laughing at the banker’s story as you lean around the pillar you are backing yourself against in an attempt to secure more personal space. Glad of the heated lamps and the glass overhang to shelter from the drizzle.

“I'm going home,” you growl.

“You’ll never find an Uber,” Kate points out deadpan as you turn back around and keep faking amusement.

Just as his thoughts spiral, Benedict hears a chuckle on the other side of the road. There, a couple are laughing together, wrapped in each other's arms, kissing, looking like no one else in the world matters… and it’s like a lightning rod hits him square in the chest.

Suddenly, all he can see are images of you, fluttering like motioned-filled playing cards from above, swirling into his eyeline, then floating onto the glistening pavement around him. Vignettes of his life and where you intersect at so many pivotal moments. The day he left uni - the car ride where you bickered like an old married couple, the day he moved to Paris - your dilated pupils and hitched breath on the Eurostar when he whispered in your ear, the unerring sympathy when you heard about his divorce, the way you held his hand when you wandered after dinner somewhere (he doesn't even recall where… only that it was with you), watching movies together on FaceTime, your incredulity when he confessed to his uneventful recurring sex dream, your surprise and, yes, arousal as he led you in the salsa dance, the way you tucked so neatly into his arms haunting him. And finally, how it felt to be buried inside your gorgeous body as you clung to him, calling his name like a siren song, intimacy like he has never known, the profundity of the connection petrifying the very life out of him.

But as he stares down at his tatty old Converse, the same ones he wore the day you met, in fact, all he sees in the puddle beneath him is the simple truth he has been in denial about, possibly for a decade or more. Rippling refractions of your face - your knowing smile, bright eyes, your wonderful, happy expression…

And before his brain acknowledges it, his feet are moving….

Walking fast…

Then it’s a jog…

Then it’s a run….

.. his feet carrying him to the one place he knows with every fibre of his being he wants to be.

—

You wander as if in a daze, seemingly surrounded by nothing but couples, kissing, dancing, whispering, and it's the final straw. You spy Kate and Anthony sipping champagne together and slope over.

“I'm going,” you sigh.

“But it's almost midnight,” Anthony protests.

“Being surrounded by people kissing is just…” you shrug, melancholy creeping in like a clingy fog around your heart.

“I’ll kiss you,” Kate placates, and Anthony perks up to no end at that suggestion, nodding enthusiastically as you both roll your eyes, bemused. “Stay? Please?” she pleads, pouting and grabbing your hands.

“Thanks, Kate. But no. I have to go. Have a wonderful night,” you bid them, kissing her gently on the cheek. “Happy New Year,” you whisper as she returns the greeting.

Benedict's lungs are burning as he races down Old St towards Shoreditch, not far from where you celebrated last year. He ignores the ache in his muscles and keeps going, checking his watch to see 11:56pm and racing harder.

I need to be there at midnight!

As you walk to pick up your coat, a sight makes your heart leap into your mouth and stops you dead in your tracks.

There, rounding the top stair, casual in old faded jeans, those ancient Converse and a chunky knit jumper… is Benedict. Hair fluffy and dishevelled from the rain, out of breath and scanning the crowd desperately. As if he is seeking someone.

Then his eyes finally land on you, and your world tilts.

Oh god, is he here… for… me?!?

Then he is striding purposefully towards you, and it seems like the crowds part. His eyes blisteringly intense, like they were on that fateful night. You try to school your face, aiming for casual indignance; you probably fail spectacularly— your heart thumping wildly.

“I've been doing a lot of thinking…” he begins as he pulls up before you. “And the thing is… I love you..”

Everything grinds to a halt, and your head feels dizzy.

This must be a prank, surely?

“What?” you stutter, disbelief rocking your core.

“I love you,” he says with a simple shrug as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

“Ben.. I… what do you expect me to say?” you blurt out, floored.

“How about you love me too,” he smiles a tiny fraction, and you hate it.

You hate how RIGHT he is. Your body is a total jumble of live wires, but your mind is suddenly calm. It's like the clouds of your thoughts part, and it all seems crystal clear. And yet, something in your stubborn heart won't let you admit it. Terrified what it could mean to voice it.

“Look, Ben, I know it's New Year, and I know you may be lonely tonight. But please don't do this,” you implore haltingly, tears prickling hot in the corners of your eyes, “...not like this,” you whisper, defeated.

“Okay, how about like this….” he throws his hands up. “I love that you won't admit you love me. I love that you are looking at me like you want to kill me right now. I love that my body is screaming at me cos I ran here as fast as I could.” he gestures down at his slightly shaky legs.

“Ten seconds to New Year's!!” a loud voice blares out over the speakers.

“TEN!!” the crowd chants.

“I love that we are idiots who would never admit to how in love we are.”

“NINE!”

“I love that you are my blue lobster, rare and beautiful as a diamond but a delicious soft treat under that hard as nails shell….”

“EIGHT!”

He tilts your chin to look up at him, a thumb swiping a tear you didn't even know had escaped.

“SEVEN!”

“Don't leave me out here in the wind, y/n…,” he murmurs softly.

“SIX!”

“I… I love that you never give up,” you whisper so quietly even you can barely hear it.

The smile that lights up Benedict’s face makes your whole being feel like the stars live inside your chest.

“FIVE!”

“I love that you take homemade salads on a road trip,” he smirks playfully, referring to the first day you spent together all those years ago.

“FOUR!”

“I love that you kept your amazing dance prowess under wraps,” you laugh over a stilted snuffle, everything in you fizzling.

“THREE!”

“I love that I can still smell you on my clothes after we spend the day together,” he sighs, moving in closer, your eyes hypnotised by the movement of his cupid’s bow.

“TWO!”

“I love that you came here tonight,” you admit, your hands circling his forearms as you sway slightly in unison.

“ONE!”

“I love that you are the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep at night,” he confesses, his lips ghosting over yours now, smiling crookedly even as he speaks.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!” the crowd chants.

All around you, party poppers go off, colourful ribbons of streamers, and the sound of glasses clinking fills the air. But it’s background noise, your whole focus on each other.

Finally, your lips meet, the fireworks under your ribs matching those in the skies above, the same as it was that first time weeks ago. You melt into each other's embrace, your kiss a seal of a pact and the promise of something new and infinite.

“For the record,” he rumbles, his minty breath hot on your lips, the strains of Auld Lang Syne ringing around the rooftop. “I'm not saying this because I’m lonely and not because it’s the New Year. I came here tonight because when you finally realise you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start…”

“...as soon as possible,” you exhale, completing his sentence with him as he nods, grinning from ear to ear.

The drunken chorus around you gets louder; he chuckles and shakes his head. “I’ve never understood this stupid song.”

“I think it’s about remembering not to forget. Or not forgetting to remember. Or something,” you peal a laugh, knowing you are talking gibberish and not giving a damn. “Anyway, it’s about old friends,” you add pointedly, moving in for another spine-tingling, heart-melting kiss.

As you part, he cradles your jaw in his hands. “It was only ever you, y/n,” he sighs, hazy eyes burning into yours, his whisper fervent but contented into your skin. “It had to be you.”

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n #it had to be you fic

206 notes · View notes

hopefulromances · 2 years ago

Note

Dude first of can I say I bloody love your writing second of all I just read that piece of reader and Jamie watching finding nemo and I had an idea. What if Jamie is watching when Harry met Sally for movie night with the team and it literally gives him the biggest mindblown lightbulb moment that he’s in love with the reader aka his best friend of over 10 years. The ending of it always makes me cry.

This is crazy did you read my other drabble where Jamie and reader watch when Harry Met Sally (I love that movie) But I LOVE THIS idea.

The boys filed into the rec room, the chairs already set up for the boys to be able to watch whatever movie Ted picked out for tonight. You were in there, finishing setting up the projector cause lord knows that if you didn't do it Ted would never be able to figure it out.

"And there!" You finished, throwing your hands up in success. "All you have to do is press play."

"Well, now, thank you (Y/N), you've been a big help," Ted grinned. "Alright now, folks! Let's file in, get your seat we're gonna get started soon!"

"(Y/N)!" Jamie called over to you. You looked over at him and smiled and Jamie's heart about stopped. Sure he was in love with you. You were brilliant. But it wasn't like he would ever say anything and ruin the friendship you had. "Over here."

"Sorry, Jamie, I got work to do, won't be able to stay tonight," you told him walking towards the door. "But I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

You walked out of the door. Some of the team pat him on the shoulder sympathetically as they walked by. Was it really that. obvious? How could you not see it?

Jamie elected to slump down next to Sam and Isaac instead, unable to keep the pout off his face.

"It is alright, Jamie," Sam comforted, nudging him. "She's just busy tonight."

"Yeah! Anyone with eyes can see she's into you," Isaac agreed.

"Thanks, lads, but I think it's hopeless," Jamie grumbled.

"Alright, greyhounds, now!" Ted clapped his hands getting the attention up at the front. "Tonight we're watching a movie about friendship, and love, and how friendship and love walk a very dangerous line. But all you need is that one push to spill your guts."

"Fucks sake," Jamie muttered, adjusting his seat.

"And without further ado, When Harry met Sally!" Ted scurried out from in front of the projector. Jamie rolled his eyes and settled in for another rom com that he didn't enjoy because all he could think about is (Y/N),

But what surprised him was how great the movie was. The writing, the flirting, it was all so comparable to his own life. By the end of it, he was leaning forward in his seat as Billy Crystal rushed down the streets of New York to find Meg Ryan.

"I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."

Jamie felt him mind racing as he listened to that line. He thought about you and the butterflies that followed him around whenever you were near. The smile that lit up the room. The laugh that could save lives. He wanted to be with you and he wanted to be with you right now.

Just as the lights turned on, Jamie shot up out of his chair and raced out of the room. The rest of the boys cheered as he did.

Ted turned to Beard. "I reckon you owe me 10 pounds."

Meanwhile, Jamie was rushing to your room. When he arrived, he knocked fiercely on the door, not letting up until you opened it.

"Jamie? What on earth-"

"I love you," he blurted out. You eyes widened, trying to take in what he was saying. "I love you. Like I love the way you smile, I love the way you talk, I love the way you always seem to know what I want for lunch even though I don't know what I want for lunch."

"Jamie wha-"

"I love you," He repeated. "You know my hair dye brand, you know that I like the temperature in my house to be 18 degrees. Not 20, not 15, 18 degrees. I love you (Y/N)."

You were speechless. You couldn't form a thought into a word if you wanted to. You just looked back and forth between Jamie's eyes trying to decipher if this was a joke.

"(Y/N), I love you and when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you-"

"Want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible..." You finished the quote, smiling softly.

"I know this is sudden, and whatever, but I just... I need you to know."

"Jamie?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you kiss me now?"

"God, yes."

And he did. He kissed you. He kissed you quite a lot actually.

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso #ted lasso show #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fanfiction #drabble night #drabble #fluff

338 notes · View notes

miindfucked · 1 year ago

Text

benedict bridgerton fic rec

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

It Had To Be You by @fayes-fics

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

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

Whatever the Poets Say by @pagesfromthevoid

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

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

Foolish Endeavor by @murdockparker

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

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

Somewhere Only We Know by @fayes-fics 🔞

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

From A Father To A Son by @thebabblingbrookenook

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

(Be)Longing by @fayes-fics

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

This Is My Idea by @theship-thewalrus

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

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

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

to be loved and to be in love by @desertno3

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

When The World Is Free by @fayes-fics

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

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

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

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

Innuendo Bingo by @fayes-fics

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

Truth or Dare by @fayes-fics 🔞

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

Rhythm by @fayes-fics 🔞

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

All The Love (Under a Mistletoe) by @seasonsbloom

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

Summer Nights by @murdockparker

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

Waking Up by @fayes-fics 🔞

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

In the Oven by @murdockparker 🔞

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

Inspiration by @fayes-fics 🔞

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

Happy Birthday, Mr Bridgerton by @fayes-fics 🔞

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

Transitions by @fayes-fics 🔞

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

Breaking and Fixing by @fayes-fics

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

Mine by @fayes-fics 🔞

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

A Treat by @fayes-fics 🔞

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

Acting Up by @fayes-fics 🔞

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

Sonnet #29 by @fayes-fics 🔞

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

Lightening & Lilies by @fayes-fics 🔞

Summary: Simply put, greenhouse sex during a thunderstorm.

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

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

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

78 notes · View notes

heartthrobin · 2 years ago

Text

making merry, oh my little fairy (2)

sam winchester x fairy!reader

wc: 5.3k

warnings: soulmate!au (partners share scars), fem!reader, implied age gap (reader is early 20's), hella pining, tooth-rotting fluff, destiel is canon, town being mean to reader, some shaky police jargon, references to thick reader (everyone cheered) but can be ignored, dean being dean, canon-typical warnings (child kidnapping, violence ect.)

an: part 2 of my little fairy series! it's been sitting in my drafts for weeks and part 1 was pretty unpopular so i've been hesitant to post it but then i realized i write for myself and not for recognition! so enjoyyyyy. remember to comment and repost to support your favourite writers :)

summary: you flew around Sam's mind with your pretty little wings all night and all day, it doesn't help that you're popping up around every corner of this case. he's trying not to think about it.

part one part three part four

They'd sat in the car parked out front maybe longer than they should have. Sam noticed you peak through the curtain at the twenty minute mark, he only noticed because he could feel your curious gaze.

It disturbed him enough to allow Dean to fly down the neighbourhood road noisily at too many miles an hour.

Naturally, sleep became a stranger.

Dean was long passed out on the questionably lumpy motel bed and Sam was still at the desk. The white light off his laptop made his eyes itch.

A dryad is a tree nymph, commonly inhabiting oak trees, and generally born into the form of beautiful women. Many dryads were considered to be originally human or children of the nature Gods and it is widely believed that they take on the physical characteristics of the trees they protect.

Your eyes returned to him again, if not for the hundredth time that day. The way the greenery reflected off of them at him. The strength of your legs, how they were wide and grounding like the tree that engulfed your house. Your movements, your walk, how you floated like how the leaves shivered in the forest beyond your garden walls.

Sam had given considerable thought to his soulmate, as most people did.

He was turning thirty-one in a few months time and it had occurred to him that maybe you were on the other side of the world. Maybe you were dead. But people had warned him that he'd know if that were true. He'd feel it, like a gaping wound in his soul.

Castiel had appeared to Dean in a flash of light. In a heroic swoop of love, and Sam thought maybe that could happen to him too.

His thumb was warm where it ran over the scar down his arm.

He wondered if you thought the same.

If you dreamed of his arrival the way he'd dreamed of yours.

It was a silly thing, to dream of meeting your true love. Far too trivial in the life of someone like Sam Winchester when the fate of the world, of good versus evil and heaven versus hell was always in the palm of his hand.

But your figure was burned into his corneas like a blinding torch.

It scared him. Not an easy feat for the man who'd seen it all.

Sam had asked Dean a few years back.

Can someone live without their soulmate?

Dean had shrugged. "Sure, plenty of people do."

Sam had sunk back another sip of his beer at the time, they were somewhere in Florida.

"What if they'd already met them? Can they decide that they don't want to be with them?"

Dean chuckled at that. "I doubt that works out very often."

It was already long after Dean had met Castiel. Long after he'd survived his "my soulmate is an angel and a man what the fuck--" stage.

"What makes you say that? I'm sure some people have a strong enough willpower."

Dean had answered him by referencing some movie, one that Sam knew he loved and it took a bit of pestering for Dean to admit he knew the quote by heart.

He'd blushed nearly red and shrugged, accompanying it by another long slug of his beer.

"It's like at the end of the movie--" When Harry Met Sally, specifically, "When they're at that New Years party and Billy Crystal goes up to Meg Ryan and gives that whole speech, and he says that line."

Sam was grinning by then. "What line?"

Like he hadn't seen the movie enough times to know.

"You know, he when says ... when you realise you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."

Sam had long made peace with the fact that even if you did ever come around, that it would be better to leave you be. To leave you in the safety of a life different to his own.

At least he had.

In the slim hours since leaving your doorstep he'd found himself choking over the thought of never seeing you again. Of his eyes never laying again on your face that gazed so happily up into his own, like you felt his warmth in a cold winter.

He was plagued, possessed, by the thought of never knowing more.

Never knowing the way you liked your tea, how you looked first thing in the morning, or worse, how your lips would feel slow and warm against his own.

He wanted to know your favourite song, and your worst fear. He wanted to know where you came from, how you found Fernglade, Washington. What's your favourite book, do you like to read? Would you like it if he read to you instead? Maybe you would, you'd be tucked against his side in bed and he'd tell you about his favourites. His favourite movies and the way he drinks his coffee and the shampoo he used. Maybe you'd play with his hair, braiding little flowers into the ends--

Sam groaned. His face fell into his hands.

This wasn't supposed to be happening. Not now.

But he supposed there would never be an adequate time for your arrival.

And god, you weren't even human.

Cross species soulmates weren't impossible - improbable, sure (about as much as being hit by lightening) - but not impossible.

It was only Sam's luck, the Winchester's luck, that they'd both been struck.

Castiel was an angel, but the concept seemed to fade off Dean quickly at the time.

Dean himself had been little help on the matter during the blurry drive back to the motel. "Hey. I mean, all things considered, fairy sex must be crazy."

Sam closed the tab on Dryads: A Modern Day Delve into Greek Mythology. Another page blinked up at him.

When the sun was still setting and Dean was still seated across from him, he had managed to do some work.

It distracted him, barely, but he managed to somewhat narrow the list of potential suspects.

The filters helped. Creatures that steal children. Creatures that live in the woods.

In all the webpages and in some text from John's journal he'd found a common thread. A thinly veiled one, but a lead regardless.

Goblins are generally found living in communities in burrows of forests across Western America. They are known to be mischievous and malignant spirits which often feed on small animals or easy prey and hunt during the warmer months before hibernating in Winter.

Children are easy prey, Sam thought.

Some subspecies were believed to be able to shift into the form of naughty children and sneak into nearby villages to prey on young humans.

It was the last thing his eyes ran over before he slipped the laptop shut. He crawled to the bed, wishing more than anything that his mind would cut him a break, before sliding under the sheets: seeking respite from the crisp autumn Washington

"Rise and shine, Sammy."

The hangers reeled noisily against the rod where Dean had ripped open the curtains and the stark light brought Sam to gasping consciousness.

Sam pulled the pillow up over his face, grumbling into it.

He made out the sound of Dean setting a coffee mug on the side table.

"What time did you get to sleep?"

Answered by another indiscernible whine, Dean sunk into the chair at the tiny table in the room. "Fine, fine ... but did you find anything helpful? Besides fairy porn probably."

It earned him a well-aimed smack in the face with a pillow.

Dean laughed jovially, "Okay, okay."

Sam rose up into a sitting position with a moan. He ran a hand over his face, the other grappling for the already cooling coffee mug on the table.

"Goblins." He muttered around the rim.

Dean paused his own sip, face falling into incredulity.

"Did you just say "goblins"?"

Sam nodded. He didn't elaborate.

"Listen, I know it's a conversation you probably don't wanna have ... but are you sure we're ruling out your little garden fairy from this equation? I mean, it really doesn't look good for her--"

"You're right. I don't want to have this conversation."

Dean shrugged. He fiddled with the coffee mug against his hand.

"It's not her." Sam added quietly.

Nodding slowly, Dean watched his brother with tentative eyes. "Have you thought about that? What you're gonna do?"

Sam rose from the bed, stripping off his shirt. "I don't know man. I don't even think she knows."

It had been a thought that occurred to him at some point in the previous night, that you didn't know. That it was probably selfish to keep it to himself.

"Right, well anyway," Dean reached into the tupperware you'd gifted them the previous afternoon. He'd already cleared out his own and was starting on a pastry from Sam's box. "I was thinking we should go speak to the third vic's mom. Kelly Williams. We haven't spoken to them yet and maybe they can tell us more."

Sam nodded. "Sure. You got an address?"

"No, but she's working a stall at..." Dean picked up a leaflet from the table that Sam assumed he'd found on his coffee run before he was up, "The Fernglade Sunday Market. We can find her there."

"Fine."

He disappeared into the bathroom, Dean heard the shower turn on.

"And you can tell me about this goblins story on the way there!" He called after him.

The door slammed shut.

"So you think goblins are coming into town and stealing kids out their back yards?"

The morning was warm and the market made it more so. It was out on a farm a couple roads down from the boys' motel.

There were little set-up stalls as far as he could see over lush green grass, selling cakes and jewellery and home-made soaps. Couples strolled hand-in-hand and children chased their parent's ankles.

Sam shrugged. "I mean yeah, it makes sense. Dad mentioned about the trees, Y/n mentioned about the forest too."

Dean nodded, his eyes rolling over the scenery. "Sure, but goblins? I've never heard of that anywhere, I mean, how do you even kill it?"

"Them." Sam corrected. "They live in groups."

Dean sighed. "Well that's gonna be fun."

Somewhere down the row, a man was singing behind a set up microphone with a guitar in his lap. A small crowd had formed to watch him.

Sam's stomach had begun churning with that feeling that made his organs feel like jelly again. He shrugged against the collar of his shirt.

"Right, well, there's Kelly Williams' stall." Dean glanced again down at the pamphlet, "Rings and Things ... how creative--"

But Sam's eyes had found on another stall. One further down from Kelly Williams', a little set-up of vases and stain glass sculptures. Rather ... they found the woman standing in front of it.

Of course it was you.

Standing against the breeze in another, unsurprisingly, light green dress. It was ruffled and shimmering and glittery and short. It made Sam's airways tighten to a shut.

You seemed intent on avoiding wearing anything that draped any further than just over the curve of your ass, and Sam prayed to anyone listening that it would stay that way.

"Sammy?"

Dean's face shrunk in confusion, he followed his brother's line of sight. He began to laugh, clearly finding you, and jostled Sam with a hand on his shoulder. "Well, isn't this just your luck."

Sam was sucking in deep breaths again. Dean shoved him in the side.

"Go talk to her, I'll speak to Mrs Williams."

Jumping back into semi-consciousness, Sam shook his head, "No, no, it's fine. We'll go--"

"Stop being a baby, Sam." Dean shrugged him off. "You're gonna have to talk to her eventually. And I hope you do a better job than you did yesterday, because that was a train-wreck."

"Thanks."

But Dean's figure was already retreating.

"Asshole." Sam muttered under his breath.

Eyes found you again, they strained against the sunlight. He could make out your face from where he stood: it was twisting, falling into a creased brow that Sam didn't like the look of.

His legs began moving before he had chance to instruct them and it only took a couple paces of his long structure to find your side, heart thumping violently in his ears.

Your eyes lifted from the table, there was an elderly lady sitting in the shade of the cover and looking unimpressed.

"Sam." You smiled up at him and he swore in that second he could listen to you saying his name forever on repeat and never grow bored. "What a pleasant surprise."

"Hey." He sighed, it was louder than he anticipated and he could feel his cheeks growing warmer. "W-What are you doing here?"

You stuttered, "Well, I was just looking at this cute little crocodile--"

His eyes found where your hand was motioning over the woman's table. He was unsurprised to find it littered with stained-glass sculptures of animals. Lions and fish and elephants among others.

But the woman interrupted before you could find the end of your sentence.

"I don't sell to kidnappers."

Her elderly face was curled up in disgust. Sam was taken aback by her directness.

He was more taken aback by your polite smile at her.

"That's fine. I'll be on my way." You nodded kindly, looking back up to Sam. "Wanna take a walk?"

Sam's bones had begun aching with fury in the small seconds since he'd arrived. His brow-bone was heavy set against his eyes.

He glanced over at the crocodile you'd referenced. It was about the size of a shoebox, glassy in bottle green tones and grinning a mouthful of sharp teeth up at him. He could already see it sitting happily on a spot between your books and photo frames, maybe up on the mantle above your fireplace.

Brushing softly against your elbow with his hand, a movement that sent a stone cold shiver up his whole body, he shook his head. "Just one sec--"

He turned to the woman, sticking his finger in the direction of the lifeless creature.

"I'd like to buy that crocodile please."

"Oh, Sam, you don't have to--"

But the woman was unmoved, "No. I'm not selling anything to anyone associated with her."

She stuck a shaking finger in your direction and Sam suddenly wanted to rip the stall to pieces.

"We should just go..." Your voice was small and he fought hard against pulling your frame into his side.

Instead, he reached into his jacket pocket for his FBI identification: flipping it out into the daylight for the woman to see. Her eyes widened behind thinly framed spectacles.

"I said I'd like to buy that crocodile." His voice was stern, heavy laden with his trembling aggravation. "How much is it?"

The woman's face flickered between emotions, before settling on vexation. "Forty dollars." She mumbled.

"I'm sorry?"

"Forty dollars." She replied more clearly, face turning red in embarrassment.

Sam slipped away his badge and dug for his wallet in his pocket, he flipped between the notes and handed her two twenty dollar bills. The woman was quiet while she wrapped the creature, avoiding your and Sam's eyes in the process.

She handed it over with a scathing, "Get away from my stall."

"With pleasure." He turned to you, your face was a cherry red shade. "I'll take you up on that walk."

You stepped away, offering a small sheepish "thanks" to the woman scowling at your and Sam's retreating figures.

"Here." He handed you the crocodile gently, and you took it with tentative hands. "Get a lot of that?"

But you shrugged off his question, grabbing for your purse. "You really didn't need to do this, Sam. Let me just pay you--"

Sam stopped, taking your forearm into his hand - the tingle it sent up his body again didn't go amiss - and he huffed. "Please, please. Don't. It's a gift."

The sun was shining off your dress and it made your face seem lighter. "Sam, really, I can't ask you to--"

"Please?"

You paused, lashes blinking carefully up at him and god he could really kiss you right there--

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

Smiling again, easing the tightness in Sam's chest, you nodded. "Fine."

You held the crocodile up to your face, "What are we gonna name him?"

"We?" Sam laughed and you laughed back at him.

"Sure, he's ours now." You tucked it under your arm again.

Ours. He was fragmentally taken away with the thought of something belonging to them, to us. A house, a couch, a dog (or a fox if that's what you wanted)--

"Anyways, where's the other one?"

Sam was brought back to the conversation.

"Oh, uh, Dean?" his eyes grazed over the stalls, pointing over to where Dean was talking with the tall Kelly Williams behind a tray of seashell necklaces. "Talking to one of the victims."

"Right, I almost forgot." You fiddled with your bag over your shoulder. "He decided whether he's killing me yet?"

His mouth tilted teasingly. "What makes you think that I've decided I'm not here to kill you?"

You shrugged, teeth flashing in a gut-wrenchingly beautiful smile. "Well, you bought me this, and ... you don't seem the type."

"The type?"

"Nah, you're too sweet on me already."

Sam's stomach did a somersault in his chest. "I--"

"Besides, you couldn't do it here. Too much blood, too many witnesses ..."

Sam's hair flicked over his shoulder where he tossed his head back to laugh. "Right. You've thought about the logistics already."

"Sure have." You nodded. "Any headway on the kids?"

"Some." He shrugged. "There's this fairy--"

"Dryad."

"--living in this petting zoo in this cottage on the outskirts of town..."

"Fine." You conceded. "I won't ask."

"No, but we have--"

"Ah, look at you two. Getting along like a house on fire."

Sam hadn't noticed his brother's approaching footsteps. Dean clapped a jolly hand over his brother's arm.

You smiled in greeting. "Good morning Dean."

He nodded. "'Morning Tinkerbell."

"Dean."

Chuckling you nodded. "Good one. Haven't heard that before."

The sun was hot on Sam's shoulders, Dean was making it hotter with his conspicuous side eye.

"What's that you got there?" He motioned over the figure under your arm.

You lifted it up proudly, "It's my crocodile. Sam got it for me. The lady wouldn't sell it to me."

"Oh, Sam got it for you, huh?" Dean smirked, relishing in the admission.

"Yep."

The glitter in your eye was making Sam's knees buckle.

"W-We should get going ..." He shifted from his one leg to the other. "Work to do ... and stuff."

"Right," you agreed, fixing the strap over your shoulder again. "I should also head home, not very welcome 'round here anyways."

Confusion glazed briefly over Dean's face but he said nothing on it.

"Yeah, stuff to do." He nodded.

You began your walk past them, finding Sam's gaze. "Thanks again, Sam. I'll see you boys around."

His eyes followed you where your crystals were clinking around your neck. "Yeah. No problem."

Barely out of your earshot, Dean turned to Sam. "A crocodile, huh?"

"Shut up."

It wasn't another two days before Sam saw you again.

The boys dove head first back into research, Mrs Kelly Washington hadn't much more to add beyond the fact that she heard another child's voice in the moments before her daughter's disappearance.

"I mean, there was some mention in the lore about goblins being able to turn into kids. Naughty ones at that."

Dean sighed over his bar-top lunch. He took another swig of beer.

"Okay, so what, these ... goblins are coming into town as children and grabbing the kids from their yards? Maybe they'd met somewhere before then, at school or the park?"

Sam shifted the salad around his plate, bored. "Yeah, maybe."

There was a depressingly thin amount of information in John's journal on goblins and the website lore was too broad to even begin sifting through it before another child was taken.

"Well we know that eight kids are taken each time, right?"

Nodding, Sam took an unenthusiastic bite of tomato.

"That means there's still two kids to be taken. I mean, there's only been six victims and autumn is two weeks away from ending, if the story is true that they hunt before winter."

The boy's didn't have to wait long. They were less than an hour clear of the dilapidated bar they'd stopped in for lunch when the call came over the police monitor in the car.

"Units, this is dispatch. We have a suspected 134 at 98 Calvary, requesting assistance."

Code 134. Kidnapping.

Dean found Sam's eye across the front seat before taking a screeching turn into the next street.

Cavalry road was just a few streets down and the scene was as they'd expected. Burning red and blue cop cars littered the street and Dean pulled the Impala into a space between them.

There was a scuffle of officers, in the corner of the driveway a man holding a sobbing woman to his chest. The parents.

Dean and Sam flashed their badges at the nearest deputy.

"What's the situation?"

The officer huffed, tightening his grip on either side of his belt. "We think the kid was taken, Frankie Moore. Disappeared about two hours ago, the parents only called in the last twenty minutes. They thought he'd just run off."

Dean nodded and Sam watched over the scene around him.

"Any witnesses?"

The cop shook his head, Taylor, his badge read. "None. Right out the backyard, just like the others."

"Did the parents see anything, hear anything?" Sam pressed.

"Not from what we can gather from them right now, they're pretty out of shape." Taylor motioned back to where the Mrs Moore was desperately pushing out sentencing between racking sobs. "But we've got a suspect, they're out fetching them right now."

Dean glanced over the officer, "A suspect?"

Sam's hands were starting to itch. He twisted them against his the cuffs of his sleeve.

"Yeah, neighbour saw them out in the forest about an hour ago. Called it into dispatch. They never took it seriously until this call came in."

Somewhere behind them a short siren yelped from one of the cars.

"Did they have the kid or what?" Dean's face was laden with confusion, the story twisting around his brain.

"No, but they've been taken in on suspicion. Talk of the town and such." Taylor responded and Sam's heart sunk to his knees.

There was a click over the officer's radio. "Suspect is in custody."

He pulled it closer to his mouth, "Copy that."

Sam tugged up on the end of his sleeve, revealing his wrists in the afternoon light. They were turning a pinkish red. Handcuffs.

"Dean."

Dean's back stiffened at his brother's tone, eyes finding his wrists. He sighed. "You've got to be kidding me."

Sam's brain was turning muddy. "The suspect, is she a woman?"

Taylor nodded. "As far as I know, yes."

There was nothing else said.

Sam fled the scene as if the perpetrator himself. He flew into the passenger's seat with the force of an attacking bear.

Dean chased after him, slotting the key into the ignition: setting the car alight.

"Sam, I know what you're thinking--"

Houses flew past the car, streets and pedestrians, but Sam had no space to consider them.

"You don't know what I'm thinking."

But Dean was persistent, knuckles white around the wheel. "She's your ... your soulmate, I get that, but our leads are thin. Have you considered that she could really be doing this?"

The station came into view at the end of the road. Lights from the cars were flashing in Sam's eyes. His head spun.

"She's not a monster, Dean."

"But she is, Sam! She is! She's not a human."

Dean pushed down on the brake in front of the sheriff's station and Sam was out the car before it had fully pulled to a stop.

He threw the doors open. Officers were flocking around like seagulls over an abandoned hot dog.

Sam grabbed the arm of the nearest one, firm in his grip.

"The suspect, where is she?"

"Uh, they've just moved her to--"

The doors swung open again behind him and the rumbling of the station was overpowered by a loud low whine. It was followed by an equally distressed yelp.

Sam turned to find a row of officers, leading one after the other like ducks, each with a rattling metal cage of a different animal. Your animals.

Goose was yipping wildly in the confines of the box. A woman holding Lydia followed him. They come in procession: the rabbits, the ferrets, the ducks, the budgies.

"What the fuck!" An officer close to the door jumped out the way where Lydia hissed angrily at him from between the bars.

"No, please!"

Sam spun on his heel. His hands felt heavy with helplessness. It was your voice, echoing across the station and reverberating in his brain.

"Please, just leave them! They're not gonna hurt anyone. I haven't done anything--"

His feet chased after the sound. Sam found a long corridor near the back of the room, there were two officers tugging on either of your arms. Your eyes were bouncing wildly between each of the officers where they disappeared into the evidence room with your pets.

Your gaze found his own. "Sam!"

"Y/n." He was bounding down the corridor, long stretches of leg, but the officers were adamant in their grip.

"Sam, I promise I didn't-- it wasn't me. I swear--"

There was a loud huff and a heave and you stumbled backwards into a closed holding cell. Your hands wrapped between the bars.

"I know," Sam was breathless. "I know you didn't--"

Suddenly there was hands on his chest. "Sir, you need to get out of here."

"I need to speak with her--"

"Sir you can't do that. You need to speak to the sheriff."

Sam's chest was rumbling with a frenzied desperation. He couldn't pull his eyes off the fragments of your figure behind the bars.

The officers shoved him again. "Sir--"

He ripped himself off their grip, hair flushed back against his reddening face and he turned back down the corridor.

Dean was already at the sheriff's desk.

"--suspicious behaviour--"

"What the hell is going on?" Sam's voice rumbled across the room. "On what basis are you holding her?"

The sheriff was a small man and he looked smaller under Sam's furious stature.

"It's like I was telling your partner here, agent," He was patting a handkerchief over his balding head. "Y/n Y/l/n is being held on the basis of suspicious activity."

"What exactly is your definition of suspicious activity?"

The sheriff shrugged, "Well we got a call in of her roaming around the forest--"

Sam could feel his fists tightening at his sides, "What are people not allowed to go into the forest in this town or does that make them all kidnappers? You have no evidence--"

"Sammy, calm down." Dean's hand found Sam's chest but he shrugged him off.

"Release her. Right now."

But the sheriff shook his head. "Unfortunately, not even FBI have the power to do that. State's laws say she can be detained for 12 hours pending investigative procedures."

"Investigative procedures--?"

By then, Dean had him by the arm. "Okay, okay. Let's go cool off--"

He tugged Sam towards the door, surprising both himself and Dean by allowing him to do so successfully.

The cool dusk air rushed over his face. Sam took a deep breath.

"They have no evidence, Dean--"

"I get that, but you need to calm down. You're not helping the situation by threatening the sheriff."

An officer passed them with another cage. Three hedgehogs.

Sam ran a hand over his face. He took a deep breath.

"You don't even believe she's innocent, Dean."

There was quiet for a long moment.

Sam fell into a bench bolted against the side of the building. His hands found his face again. After a moment, Dean crouched into the spot beside him.

"Look." He sighed. "If you believe her, I believe you. Alright?"

Sam's eyes were watching his shoes. He nodded, only half believing his brother's claim.

They sat like that for nearly an hour with evening settling over Fernglade around them and the autumn crisp seeping into their suits.

After a long resounding silence, one that had stretched on past Dean's wide yawn, Dean rose to his feet.

"Sammy, we should go home. Get some headway on this goblins angle."

At that, Sam shook his head. "I'm gonna stay."

"What, until she's out?"

"Yeah."

Dean's eyes were dripping in pity and it made Sam's blood boil.

"That's--" he raised his watch into his eyeline, "She's still got another ten hours. It's only six o' clock now."

Sam nodded. "Yeah."

"Sam--"

"Dean."

Another cold silence.

Sam pressed his hair back with a wide hand, conceding. "Look, I'm sorry. But I'm gonna stay. You head back to the motel, do some work and get some sleep. I'll be fine."

Dean considered him, but he made no further argument and Sam thought momentarily it was maybe because he knew he couldn't budge him in the same argument with Cas.

"Alright. Fine." Dean nodded, tugging his jacket closer against the cold. "I'll see you in the morning."

Sam watched his brother's retreating figure all the way until the Impala had disappeared down the next street before going to stand.

The doors swung open with a whine, the station had cooled to a quieter buzz than when he'd first burst in. The sheriff had disappeared into an office off in the corner of the room.

Finding the nearest officer, Johnson, behind a short wooden desk, Sam approached him.

Officer Johnson glanced warily up at him from the papers he'd been filling out. He'd probably been witness to his first outburst.

"Uhm," Sam cooled his voice to a deferential timber. "The animals at the back, what's gonna happen to them?"

The officer set his pen down, "Well I'm doing the paperwork on them now. They'll be released if and when she does."

"If?"

He shrugged, "Yeah, if they don't find anything they'll let her go. Only got twelve hours."

Sam shifted his weight, running his eyes over the station. Somehow it was colder inside than the bench he'd just abandoned.

"Right."

The image returned to him again of your tiny green dress, the satin sleeves that reached down over your arms - he wondered for a moment if you wore them to cover all his scars - and the shiny ends that left your legs a prize for the bite of the freezing air that nipped at him even through all his layers.

He dug his hands into his coat pocket, pulling out his badge and his wallet and his phone to slip them into his pant pockets. Then he shrugged out the jacket.

Sam held it out to the officer. "Would you mind giving this to her?"

The officer took it with tentative hands, he gave it a glance over but made no move to stand.

"There's nothing in it." Sam huffed. "It's freezing in here, and unless you want her to die of hypothermia before morning, I suggest you do what I've asked."

He was considering it, Sam could tell by how his eyes flickered over the office door behind which the sheriff was hiding, but eventually elected to stand.

"Fine."

comment and repost if you enjoyed <3

taglist:

@firstsnowdrop @writerofthewinds @aria1245 @nyx22-blogs @lucysaloser @britishscum @pookiesnatcher @music-keep-me-sane @cryptid-with-a-cane @sammys-concubine @i-live-for-fantasy @grimbunnie @crystalreedwifey @haileycannotcometothephonern @i-cant-write-for-shit @did-someone-change-my-name @1313ek @chlorine11 @ch33ze00 @random-fandom-gurl @melancholicandmessy @harley-quinns-girlfriend @cardigan-ns @charliethealpaccaso @crystalandphoebewifey @nonbinarycryptic @multitargaryen @darylsleathervest @aquatic-bread @ferrersbiggestfan @miles-stargirl @secretsuitcasegooplawyer

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester x you #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester #sam winchester x female reader #sam winchester drabble #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x you

260 notes · View notes

rcgersromanoff · 1 month ago

Text

getting to know mutuals!

finally getting around to this!!! tagged by the lovely @hangmanbradshaw, @intrepidjourneys, @pissmotif, @ghostlykiss, and @mxrcusflint !! smooches to u all i'm loving reading these

what's the origin of your blog title? it's the last names of 2 marvel characters, Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff! couldn't do it without the lil 'c' in the middle so rcgersromanoff was born. not rly as into marvel anymore bit i'm simply too lazy to change my url

otp(s) + shipname(s): jake & bradley, hangster! super into buck & eddie recently, aka buddie. hmmmm and some classics, steve & bucky, stucky; peeta and katniss, everlark; damen & laurent, lamen (i think that's what it is ?)

favourite colour: green! usually sage green but i've been liking pthalo green a lot recently (go birds yknow)

song stuck in your head: jocelyn's dance by berlioz- been rly into jazz house recently

weirdest habit/trait: hmmmmmm not weird per se but i fiddle with/pick at my cuticles when anxious. you can tell my mental state by the look of my nails lol

hobbies: writing, reading, trying new wines (i'm a sommelier), used book shopping (i have like 6 different editions of Lonesome Dove they're all my babies)

if you work, what's your profession? fine dining server! i'm at an italian place rn

if you could have any job you wish, what would it be? writing!!!

something you're good at: making people laugh! and i have this insane talent for remembering movie lines. also for guessing what year a movie's from. and i dooooo think i'm not a half bad writer

something you hate: when people tell me i'm being too loud, ambiguous endings in books, jk rowling

something you collect: vintage concert tees, vinyl albums, different editions of Lonesome Dove, matchbooks

something you forget: oh god. i can't even remember what i'm forgetting tbh

what's your love language: hmmmmmm probably words of affirmation

favourite movie/show: when harry met sally, the nice guys, surf's up, lost, avatar: the last airbender, 911

favourite food: sushi. all day every day.

favourite animal: hmmm i love otters & red pandas, but i rly do love doggies <3 and cats. little weirdos

what were you like as a child: loud, sarcastic, outgoing, and bratty (all of these could still be said for me today)

favourite subject at school: english!!

least favourite subject: philosophy- i simply do not have the brain for it

what's your best character trait? i've been told i'm welcoming! also i think i'm pretty damn funny

what's your worst character trait? i have pretty bad patience and get annoyed VERY easily, but i get over it fast. also have a tendency to rush what i'm doing (aka rushing tables at work without even realizing it lol)

if you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be? ugh, MONEY. don't wanna worry/think about it ever again

if you could travel in time, who would you like to meet? anthony bourdain! his prose on food is some of my favorite writing of all time: honest without being rude, beautiful without being pretentious. his books are absolutely some of my fav nonfiction reads

tagging: @dracculaura and anybody else who hasn't done this yet and wants to jump in!!

#this was fun!!!#i love this stuff #tag game

9 notes · View notes

duchesschameleon · 2 months ago

Text

we'll be fine when you can finally make it home

summary: a story in five parts about meeting your best friends and the years of being friends, fighting, being separated by the Navy, and all the while realizing you're falling for them and can't live without them. pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw x jake "hangman" seresin x natasha "phoenix" trace rating: mature, for cursing and discussed sexual content warnings: sexual content discussed a/n: part of the @topgunhappilyeverafter exchange and written for arcticmoncks on ao3. inspired by when harry met sally find this fic on ao3

when it was Nat and Jake

It's Javy's idea, the road trip to Pensacola after graduation.

It's practical, if Nat shoves her feelings about Jake to the side. She'd never brought her car out to the Academy, plenty of her friends had theirs if she really needed one and an almost cross-country drive sounded heinous in her opinion.

Jake Seresin on the other hand, had driven his truck up from Texas as soon as he could. The pickup was a staple around Annapolis, engine roaring around too-small streets and signaling his presence.

So, Jake has a car and Nat doesn't. Jake has orders for Pensacola and Nat does, too.

Javy does too, but he has to fly to New Orleans first to see some family and pick up his car. Nat is definitely not lamenting that fact and totally hasn't considered asking if she can crash his trip home. Definitely not.

And so, Javy suggested in the weeks leading up to graduation a solution to Nat's whining about how she would get all of her belongings down to Pensacola that she join Jake on his roadtrip.

"There's room in the truck," Jake says nonchalantly when Javy asks. "Might be nice to have some company on the drive down."

Nat raises her eyebrow at that. "Company? Is that all I'd be? Not another driver or navigator?"

"Sorry, Trace, no one else drives the truck. Even if I thought you could handle her."

She scoffs and rolls her eyes, but knows that she's out of options. Jake's her best bet to get to Pensacola without breaking the bank to buy plane tickets and ship her stuff.

"Fine. When do we leave?"

And that is how Natasha Trace finds herself loading her bags and boxes into the bed of Jake Seresin's truck a few days after graduation. Fifteen hours on the road with him stretch out in front of her, all in the passenger seat. Fifteen hours alone with Jake Seresin, something she's done her best to avoid the last four years.

It's not that she hates Jake Seresin. It's just that…he's proven exactly who he is over the last four years and she's not interested. She's not impressed by his skill on the football field and how it's turned his ego into something too big for anyone to handle. She wouldn't go so far as to say she hates him, they definitely get along, but he isn't her favorite person.

So, the next fifteen hours should be interesting.

As she goes to lift another bag, the weight suddenly disappears out of her hands.

"I got it, Trace," Jake says, adding the bag to the pile of belongings in the bed of his truck. And then leans down to grab another one out of the rolling bin Nat found in her building's lobby.

"I can load my own bags, Seresin," Nat says as he repeats the process, loading her bags for her.

"I'm sure you can," he says, placing another duffle in the truck before facing her, "but my mama taught me to load a lady's things into the truck. So, take the help and make sure anything you want in the cab is up there. Otherwise it's all going in the bed."

Nat snorts, struggling to accept that this is the same man who said she'd be better suited to a convent than the Navy if she kept up her straight-edge attitude. But, she does as he says and finds her bag of items for in the truck, tossing it up into the footwell of the passenger seat.

By the time she circles back to the bed, Jake's finished loading her things.

"Got everything?" Jake asks, hands on his hips as he surveys the assortment of bags and boxes in the bed of the truck.

"Yeah, I'm all set."

"Let's hit the road then."

The first few hours of the trip are uneventful and quiet. The sun climbs in the sky, marking the passing morning as Jake drives them south, focused on their destination.

Natasha drifts in and out of consciousness, the rumble of the truck and low music from the radio lulling her to sleep. Both of them are silent, still fully waking up and both a little uncertain of what to say.

During one of her fits of sleep, Nat feels the truck slow and turn off the highway.

"Where are we?" she asks, words a little slurred together as she blinks sleep from her eyes.

"North Carolina. Truck needs gas and I need food so I assume you do too."

Sure enough, Nat's stomach lets out a rumble. She shrugs and Jake's mouth tilts up. She adjusts herself, sitting up straighter and looking around, trying to find any place that will get them a passable breakfast.

"Diner up ahead on the left," she says, pointing it out to Jake. "Probably our best bet for food, and there's a gas station across the way."

"Good eye, Trace."

She rolls her eyes, it wasn't exactly a hidden diner, but she'll take the compliment if it means he'll listen. And sure enough, Jake pulls into the left lane and turns into the parking lot. They both hop out of the truck and are quickly seated once they're inside.

It's a very typical diner, linoleum floors and vinyl booths, a countertop for solo travelers, and menus covered in protective plastic that haven't been changed in ages.

It's perfect and Nat inhales the scent of coffee and syrup, a smile spreading across her face.

The booth squeaks when either one of them moves and Nat can feel her thighs sticking to the vinyl padding but she doesn't care. The menu is perect and greasy, full of breakfast staples and lunch sandwiches for those stopping later in the day.

"I know I should have eggs, but those pancakes are looking mighty fine," Jake says as he peruses the menu. "What are you looking at?"

"Probably the breakfast special."

"That hungry, huh?"

Nat lets out a snort. "Of course. And you can't go to a diner and not sample a bit of everything."

She can tell Jake's shaking his head and laughing at her, even if her eyes are currently glued to the menu. "What, Jake?"

"It's just, I never knew you had a method to ordering food at a diner. It's…I don't know Nat, it's cute."

"You find me cute, Jake? Never thought that would happen in a million years."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he shoots out, right as the waitress comes to take their orders.

"Do you need a moment, dears?" she asks, eyes darting back and forth between them.

"No, we're ready, ma'am," Jake says, flashing her a bright smile. "I'll take the ham and cheese omelet, with bacon and hashbrowns for sides."

"Sounds great, sweetie. And for you, honey?" the waitress turns to Nat, eyes bright.

"I'll have the traveler's breakfast," Nat starts, "but can my pancakes be blueberry pancakes? And I want the eggs sunny side up, with the yolks a little runny but kinda set. And I'll have rye toast, medium toasted. And the bacon, can I get it well done? So it's crispy, not chewy? Thank you!"

The waitress blinks at Nat as she writes it all down. And she can feel Jake's eyes on her, judging her for every caveat she's made to her order.

"You really know how you like your food, don't you doll?" the waitress says as she finishes up the order.

Nat nods as she wraps her hands around her coffee mug. "Absolutely. Life's too short to not enjoy every bit of it."

"Amen to that. Well, I'll let the boys in the kitchen know to pay special attention to your food. Let me know if you two need anything else."

Jake shakes his head at her as she takes a sip of her coffee, just a little sweet with a splash of milk.

"What?" she asks, raising an eyebrow at him over her mug.

"'Life's too short to not enjoy every bit of it'? Seriously, Nat?"

"Yes, Jake. I'm absolutely serious about that. Everything I do, everything I eat, I want to enjoy it. I want to have the things I want if it's possible so I will ask for it every time. Not my fault that it's considered odd to ask for the things that you want and just accept something different."

"God, you've gotta be the bossiest woman in bed then."

"Not bossy,” Nat counters. “And anyway, if it makes sure I have a good time and actually come, then I'm all for it. Any guy who doesn't want to listen to a woman in bed is a fool as far as I’m concerned. I'm basically giving them lessons on how to make sure a woman comes and enjoys herself, but there's always the idiots who assure me they know what they're doing,” she explains, rolling her eyes.

"But they don't?" Jake clarifies, arms crossed across his chest, almost defensively.

"No, they don't. They're just jackhammering into me and completely ignoring anything else that could bring me pleasure. Penetration is the only thing that matters to most men, when for most women they need external stimulation to come. But no one wants to hear that, they all think they're sex gods." Nat explains with a scoff.

"Something tells me you don’t think they are,” Jake mutters, eyes glancing around the diner.

"Absolutely not," Nat replies immediately. "Oh my god," she says after a moment, taking in his defensive posture, "are you like that? Jake Seresin, are you a self-proclaimed but fake sex god?"

"Hey!" he protests, "I'll have you know that every woman - and man - I've slept with have left my room satisfied."

"The men I'll believe. But the women, I have a little trouble with that."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I've heard things, Jake Seresin. And your success rate probably isn't as great as you think it is." Nat shrugs, feeling a little bad for bursting Jake's bubble, but honestly it's better he knows now. "Tell me, when a woman orgasms with you, does she get all breathy and almost speechless? Or is she crying out in ecstasy?"

The red coloring Jake's cheeks tells her everything she needs to know.

"Okay, but maybe that's just how they're feeling? Screaming orgasms are totally a thing."

"Sure, occasionally. But most women scream maybe once when they come, not over and over."

"What do you mean? Are you saying the women I've slept with have faked it?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

"No way."

"Want a demonstration for what a faked orgasm is?"

"Do your worst, Trace."

Nat pauses for a second. If Jake's back to calling her Trace, she may be crossing a line here. And then she looks up at Jake's eyes and sees the challenge there. So she starts panting, dramatically closing her eyes and moving her hips against the vinyl bench, hands starting to roam her chest and up into her hair.

"Oh, oh Jake, yes! Yes! Yes! Oh!" she exclaims, catching the attention of the other diners. "That's it, yes! Yes! Ooh!" she finishes, stopping her movements and looking back at Jake.

His mouth twists into a scowl. "Still doesn't prove anything."

Nat lets out a laugh, throwing her head back against her seat. "Oh, Jake, I think it does."

She hears a woman whisper to their waitress, who's holding their food, "I'll have what she's having," and has to hold back another laugh.

"Fine. If I'm apparently so bad at sex with women, why don't you give me lessons?" Jake says, raising his eyebrows at her.

"Oh no, I am not sleeping with you. Or anyone else in Pensacola."

"Not even Javy?" Jake asks as their food is set on the table and the waitress quickly scrambles away.

"The Academy and flight school are two different things, Jake," Nat explains. "I can't…I can't have people thinking I'm only here to serve a specific purpose or as a favor to someone else. I have to be focused and be the best I can be. Not distracted or possibly thrown out for inappropriate relations."

Jake deflates a little and looks down at his plate. "Right, right. Of course. Stupid of me to ask."

"Not stupid," Nat says, cutting into her blueberry pancakes. "Just…not the right time."

when they met Bradley

The rest of the drive to Pensacola was fairly uneventful compared to the diner. Nat and Jake settled into a comfortable routine, one almost reminiscent of when they would study together at the Academy with Javy. It almost made Nat forget that ninety percent of the time, she doesn't like Jake Seresin all that much.

She's almost shocked when they pull into Pensacola, digging out their Navy IDs to show the guards at the gate. Fifteen hours seems to have gone by too quickly, but sure enough the sun is setting and darkness is creeping in over the base.

They get directed to a set of barracks for the incoming pilot class and Jake pulls off, thanking the guards as they go.

"So this is it, huh?" Jake asks, looking around as he drives. "Our new home."

"Guess so," Nat whispers, nerves starting to settle in. It's stupid, she shouldn't be nervous. She knows she's earned her spot here, but still. In a few days she'll be learning how to fly and kickstarting her naval career. She's not in school anymore, she's not a midshipman anymore. She's an ensign. She's going to flight school,

"Nat? You okay?" Jake asks, concern coloring his voice.

"Fine, I'm fine," she responds weakly. "Just, been a long day."

Jake hums, unconvinced. He's not used to seeing Natasha Trace uncertain. She's always been sure of herself, certain she's right where she's meant to be. And he knows it too, knows she's made for this, ready for this. Probably more than he is.

But he's not ready to admit that out loud. Nor help her through a crisis of confidence. She's Natasha Trace, she'll pull through, he reasons.

"Good thing we have a few days to settle in before flight school really starts then, right?" he asks, keeping the conversation somewhere comfortable for them both.

"Yeah," Nat agrees. "That's definitely nice." She pauses, takes a breath to steady her nerves, try to kick them out of her system. "Maybe we aren't the only ones here early and we can meet some of the others? That might be nice."

"Yeah, that'd be great," Jake agrees. "It's weird that after four years together, our class is kinda scattered just like that. All off to different jobs and trainings."

"Welcome to the Navy, everything keeps moving and changing."

Nat's dry tone startles a laugh out of Jake as he pulls into a spot by their lodgings. "God, ain't that the truth," he says, shaking his head.

It doesn't take them too long to unpack the truck, moving their things into their new rooms. The long day catches up with both of them though and it's not very long until both Nat and Jake are asleep on their new beds.

The next morning, Jake is startled out of sleep by someone whistling in his room. At seven thirty in the morning.

"What the…dude, I was sleeping!" Jake groans, covering his head with a pillow.

"You're in the navy and still sleeping while the sun is up? Gotta break that habit soon," the stranger laughs as he throws Jake a wink over his shoulder.

"I drove fifteen fucking hours here yesterday," Jake grumbles, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "Excuse me for wanting a little lie-in after that."

"Fifteen hours? Where'd you come in from?"

"Annapolis," Jake says around a yawn. "How about you?"

“Virginia. Charlottesville,” the stranger answers, jaw clenching. He blinks and shakes his head, turns back to Jake with a smile on his face like everything is just fine. “I’m Bradley Bradshaw.”

“Jake Seresin.”

A little later in the day, Jake introduces his new roommate to Natasha and the three of them hit it off, heading to a nearby restaurant for a late lunch.

“Wait, you grew up in Southern California?” Bradley asks Nat as she’s telling a story.

“Yeah! Well, between Southern California and Nevada, really. We moved around a bit because of jobs, but it was mostly in the southwest.”

“No shit, I spent a lot of time in San Diego as a kid. My…uh, I had some family out that way so mom and I would visit a lot.”

“I miss it, those warm days and the palm trees. Summers in Annapolis were just different and brutal. So muggy and humid,” Nat says, wrinkling her nose.

“Ugh, I know. Playing baseball in Virginia was the worst, I’ll take the summer league in San Diego over that any day.”

“Man, y’all would never survive a Texas summer,” Jake interrupts with a snort. “Humidity and intense heat, you’d both melt.”

“Yeah, Mom and I stopped visiting her parents there during the summer since they were so brutal,” Bradley says, a sad smile on his face. “She told them we’d come for Christmas or Thanksgiving, that’s it.”

“You got family in Texas, Bradshaw?” Jake asks.

“Yeah, my mom was from there originally,” he says softly. “Her folks are still out there, but I haven’t seen them in years.” He shrugs, one hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well, maybe we’ll get you back out there. Can’t go too long without a little Texas in your life,” Jake jokes, winking at Bradley. It startles a laugh out of the other man while Nat just groans and rolls her eyes.

“Please don’t tell me I’m going to have to deal with two cowboys now,” she grouses into her drink.

“Nah, I never lived in Texas,” Bradley explains. “I’m definitely more of a California guy than a cowboy.”

“Phew,” Nat sighs, slumping back in her seat. “One’s enough to deal with, and honestly half the time I just ignore him.”

“Or insult me,” Jake throws back. “Four years at the academy and she spent all of them busting my balls,” Jake explains to Bradley. “Can’t catch a break with this one.”

Nat just shrugs, setting them all off laughing.

Flight school continues in a similar manner, with Natasha, Jake, and Bradley spending time together outside of classes, usually with Javy tagging along or Nat dragging her roommate, Callie, out with them, but more often than not it’s the three of them hanging out and studying together.

It’s a strange bond, one that continually confuses Natasha. She spent four years holding Jake Seresin at bay, not being his best friend, and now she can’t imagine her life without him. It throws her for a loop, but she can’t complain about it too much. He’s proven himself to always have her back and not be so terrible.

When they start going up in planes and having their hands at the controls, Bradley showcases skills none of them have seen and shocks everyone by coming out on top as the most promising pilot in their class. Nat and Jake aren’t too far behind, but it’s still a shock to see their friend fly so easily when he’d never mentioned any prior experience.

“Bradshaw, what the hell was that?” Nat asks, excited to see him do so well, even as surprise colors her voice.

Bradley just shrugs, looking down at the ground between his feet. “It’s nothing, Nat,” he says.

“That’s not nothing,” she counters, standing right in front of him. “You were the most controlled and calm pilot out of the whole class. Almost like you’ve done it before.”

Bradley keeps staring at the ground, his jaw clenching and unclenching. Nat stands still, waiting for his response.

After a minute, Bradley sighs and looks up at her. “I, uh, I have flown before. My…my dad’s friend took me up a few times when I was a kid and was starting to teach me when I was in high school. Nothing formal, nothing that would count towards a license, but yeah I’ve been up in these kinds of planes before.”

Nat just stares at him, then looks up to Jake, who just walked up to them. “Damn, so you really do have a head start on us, huh?” she asks, throwing a small smile to Bradley.

“You been holding out on us, Bradshaw?” Jake asks, knocking his shoulder against Bradley’s. “C’mon, I thought we were all gonna help each other survive this!”

Bradley lets out a breath and a light laugh, which soothes Nat’s nerves that she’d overstepped a boundary, asking him about his flying experience.

“It wasn’t a lot of flying, just a couple trips up. Baseball and…life kept us from doing any more,” Bradley explains with a shrug. “So I’ve done this before, but I really don’t have a head start or anything. Just a couple trips up in one of his planes. Nothing too special.”

Jake lets out a snort at that. “Yeah, nothing special. Just a few hops with your old man’s friend. Take advantage of it Bradshaw, if you do well in flight school I’m sure they’ll let you go anywhere you want. You could get based back out on the west coast and return to your beloved California.”

“Maybe,” Bradley agrees, shrugging again. “You guys weren’t too far behind me, I’m sure you’ll pass with flying colors and get your pick of base.”

And that of course set off a discussion about the bases they could be stationed at and which one would be best. A discussion that drew in the rest of their class as they poured out of the classroom, all giddy from a day of flying.

As flight school continued on, the trio grew closer. Long nights of studying, reviewing checklists and protocols and controls, helped them form a bond unlike any other. They kept each other sane as they went on to jet training and certification with a few of their other classmates, helping to keep the stress at bay.

But even with all that time spent together over almost three years, Nat still couldn’t bring herself to ask either man a question that had started lingering in the back of her mind. Even on the eve of their wing ceremony, all having earned their fighter jet qualifications and assignments to new bases, Nat couldn’t do it.

Their fighter jet training class has taken over a corner full of tables at a local bar, everyone drinking and celebrating. Tomorrow, they’ll receive their golden wings and officially be naval aviators. Tomorrow evening, they’ll be on their way to one of two bases and starting their careers in earnest, assigned to squadrons and preparing for stints at sea on a carrier.

Nat knows she’s going to Oceana, going back to the east coast with Bradley. Jake got assigned to the west coast, to the Pacific fleet. The three of them won’t be in the same place anymore, separated by more than 3,000 miles - and that’s when they’re all stateside.

It’s a daunting and terrifying thought, that the three of them are going to be separated. Nat will only have one of her boys, because over three years she’s started thinking of Jake and Bradley as hers, and it hurts to think about.

They’ve become a unit, the three of them. Best friends, nearly inseparable, and a bit of a package deal. Javy had even grown used to it, knowing that Nat and Bradley would more likely than not be trailing behind Jake when the two would be hanging out. It doesn’t phase him, didn’t phase Callie, Nat’s roommate, anytime the boys would trail her into their room for studying or anything.

“Penny for your thoughts, Phoenix?” Bradley asks, nudging her shoulder. “You looked pretty lost there.”

“Just, just thinking about tomorrow. And the last few years,” she mutters, “we’ve gotten so close, and now we’ll be separated.”

“Hey, you’ve still got me,” Bradley reassures her. “It’ll be weird without Jake, sure, but we’ll talk to him. Call and write. And Skype. You know Jake won’t let us forget about him.”

Nat snorts, knowing she can’t argue that. “It’s just gonna be weird,” she says. It’ll be weird without the third person of our strange little triangle, is what she doesn’t say, without the other person I don’t know if I can live without.

The realization shouldn’t surprise her. It’s been building for some time. The most shocking part is one of the men she’s fallen for is Jake Seresin, someone she was barely friends with for four years at the academy.

But now, things are different. Now he’s become someone she doesn’t want to spend all this time away from.

“C’mon, Nat,” Bradley says, “I know it’ll be weird but at least we have each other to get through it,” he smiles at her.

And she knows that’s true, that she’s lucky to have one of her best friends assigned to the same base as her. They might not be on the same squadron, but at least they’ll be able to spend time away from training and base together. It’s the best she could have hoped for, honestly.

“I know, I know. It’s just,” she lets out a sigh, slumping against the back of her chair, “I can’t believe I’ve gotten so close to Jake Seresin I’m going to miss him!”

“Aw, Phoenix, I didn’t know you cared that much,” Jake crows as he comes back to their tables, throwing an arm around her shoulders.

“Ugh, now I’m regretting saying anything,” she grouses as he smacks a kiss to the top of her head. “I take it back, you’re annoying and I’m happy to be rid of you, Hangman.”

“Nope!” Jake says gleefully, hugging her from the side. “I heard you before, you’re gonna miss me, you no longer hate me!”

Nat rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. Somewhere along the way, these two men became her closest friends and people she depends on. People she likes, could possibly love. People she can’t imagine her life without.

It’s a daunting thought, and one she keeps to herself.

They’re in the Navy, they don’t need any more complications.

when they were apart

The next few years are filled with snippets of conversations over phone calls, Skype calls, and sporadic text messages. The time difference between the east and west coasts is difficult to navigate with a squadron training schedule, and then inevitably one of them gets shipped out on a carrier and makes things even harder.

But, they keep in touch. They spend time together, even if it is virtual, and do everything in their power to line up their leaves so they can physically meet up somewhere.

It’s one of those times that the stars align when Bradley gets proverbially struck by lightning.

They’re in Minnesota, borrowing the lakehouse of one of Bradley’s squadron mates. Bradley had to promise him that they’d leave everything back where they found it and he would be the only one driving the boat, given he had experience from summers with his mom’s parents.

But they’re all there together, for a whole three-day weekend. It’s the longest stretch of time they’ve gotten together in a while and Bradley’s so excited. Three days with his favorite people in the world, far away from any reminders of his past.

It’s perfect.

What’s even more perfect is taking the boat out on the lake just before sunset and watching the sun dip low in the sky, painting it pink and orange and purple, with the silhouettes of Nat and Jake curled up together at the bow of the boat.

It makes something catch in his chest, makes his breath waver. It’s an overwhelming feeling of rightness, like this moment is perfect and there’s no one else he’d want to share it with.

He’s blinking away the tears that collected in the corner of his eye when hands fall on his shoulders, startling him.

“Hell of a view, Bradshaw,” Jake says, right behind him. “Hell of a view.”

“Yeah, it’s something special,” Bradley responds softly, mind still racing with his realization.

These are his people. Nat and Jake are his people, the ones he wants in his life forever.

“You good here?” Jake asks, brows furrowing a bit at him. “Seem a little quiet.”

“I’m good, just…taking it in,” Bradley says, shrugging. “It’s a hell of a view, needed a moment to really appreciate it.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

Jake’s not looking at the sunset though, his eyes are stuck on Bradley’s profile, strong and steady, backlit by the setting sun. And then his eyes flit to Nat, the way she’s curled up on the bench in the bow, arms on the side of the boat as she looks out over the water.

They fall back into silence, letting the sounds of the lake wash over them. It’s peaceful and familiar, the quiet lapping of the waves against the hull of the boat. It’s reminiscent of their times on carriers, out at sea for months on end and always hearing the sound of the waves under the sound of jets.

It’s peaceful. It’s wonderful. It’s perfect.

“Are you two gonna stand over there all night, or are you gonna join me up here while we float?” Nat asks, a teasing tone in her words.

Both men’s heads snap up towards her to find Nat smirking at them from over her shoulder. It’s an enticing look and quickly, they scramble towards the bow and sit with her.

“Better?” Bradley asks softly once they’re all settled, legs tangled together and pressed together.

“Perfect.”

But of course, the perfect moments don’t last forever. All too soon, they have to report back to their new bases and squadrons.

This time, Bradley and Jake are stationed together on the west coast. Bradley’s tense with nerves from the moment he gets the orders, uncomfortable with being too close to a place from his childhood with so many memories, most of which have been tinged with negativity from Maverick’s actions.

But orders are orders. Bradley reports to his squadron and does his best to keep his head down, keep an ear out for anyone he wants to avoid and generally mind his own business.

Of course, Jake notices something is up the minute he and Bradley reunite in San Diego.

“I don’t know, Phoenix,” he says over a phone call one afternoon, “it’s strange, I’ve never seen him this nervous over anything. He’s always calm, cool, and collected but out here, he’s on edge and constantly looking over his shoulder. I don’t know what to do.”

Nat lets out a sigh on the other end of the line. “Just, remind him you’re there, Hangman. He’ll talk when he’s ready, he can’t hold this in forever,” she reminds him. “As long as he knows you’re there for him, that nothing will change that, you’re doing good. I think it's all you can do. All we can do,” she corrects herself. “I’ll remind him I’m here, too and he can always talk to me.”

“Alright,” Jake responds sullenly. He wants to do more, wants to force Bradley to talk because carrying around that much nerves and tension can’t be good for him, but he knows Nat is right. Knows that Bradley needs to decide to talk to them about whatever is bugging him. “Thanks, Phoenix.”

“Anytime, Hangman,” she responds warmly. “Let me know if he tells you anything? I hate that he’s closing in and suffering on his own.”

“Yeah, I’ll let you know if he says anything. Same for you, alright?”

“Sounds good.”

Silence falls over the line, neither fully satisfied with the plan, but unable to come up with anything different.

“Ugh, I gotta go, Hangman,” Nat eventually groans. “It’s late here and I have an early run with my squadron. Goodnight.”

“Night, Phoenix. Stay safe out there.”

“You, too. Both of you,” she says before hanging up.

Jake sighs and hangs his head, elbows resting on his knees. He knows Nat is right, knows that trying to force Bradley to talk to him will only push him away. It has to be Bradley’s decision to talk.

But Jake’s never been a patient man. He’s always gone after what he wants, always strived to achieve his goals no matter the cost.

It takes him time to confront Bradley. Jake spends their months on land preparing to be at sea reminding himself that this is clearly a sensitive topic, something Bradley doesn’t want to talk about. Nat said to just be there for him, he’ll tell them what’s going on eventually.

But months have passed with no progress, Bradley’s just dug further into himself and retreated from Jake and Nat, from anyone who might be able to call him out on his bullshit.

So, right before their squadron is meant to ship out on a carrier for a sea tour, Jake talks to Bradley.

They’re at the Hard Deck, savoring their time at a bar before they’re confined to the ship. Everyone’s letting loose and enjoying themselves, enjoying the last bit of freedom.

Everyone except Bradley.

Jake notices that he never volunteers to go to the bar and get drinks, but will give someone money for a round when it’s his turn to buy. His shoulders are tense and every once in a while, Jake sees him look around the place, checking for someone.

After watching Bradley glance around the room again, Jake nudges him. “Everything alright, Rooster?”

“Yeah, yeah it’s fine,” he says, shoulders hunched up around his ears. “I’m fine, Hangman.”

Jake hums, takes a sip of his beer. “Yeah, because when I’m fine I case out the bar I’m in every twenty minutes like I’m looking for someone.”

Bradley’s eyes slip closed and his jaw clenches. “Jake, everything’s fine. Just, leave it, ok?”

“If you’re asking me to leave something, that means it’s not okay. Something’s up. Something’s been up the entire time we’ve been here in San Diego but you refuse to tell me anything and I’m sick of it. So what the fuck’s going on, Bradshaw?” Jake asks, voice low and tense.

But Bradley doesn’t respond. He just slams down the rest of his beer and leaves the bar without a word. Jake follows, finishing his drink and stopping to give the rest of the squadron some money for another round before walking out towards the beach.

It’s a testament to years of friendship and how well he knows Bradley that Jake knows he’s heading for the surf. Anytime Bradley’s been bothered by something or needs to think things out, he goes to the beach and looks out at the water, as if it’ll give him the answers he’s searching for.

It doesn’t take long for Jake to catch up to Bradley, the breaking waves almost reaching his shoes.

“What the fuck, Bradshaw?” Jake asks sharply. “You can’t just walk away like that. Something’s been up since we arrived in San Diego and I’m just trying to help! So is Nat, I know you haven’t talked to her, either.”

“You two talking about me behind my back?” Bradley asks, narrowing his eyes. “Just perfect, I knew the two of you were closer because of the academy. Always going to stick together over me,” he murmurs, kicking the sand.

“God, dude, no!” Jake yells, stepping closer. “We’re not talking about you behind your back, we’re worried about you! You’re our friend, our best friend, and we just want to make sure you’re okay, but since you won’t actually tell us what’s going on we talk to each other and look out for you,” Jake explains, trying to catch Bradley’s eyes.

“That’s exactly what I don’t need you two doing! I’m fine, I’ve told you both I’m fine a million times! Just fucking let it go!”

“You’re not fine!” Jake yells back, too pissed off and hurt by Bradley brushing this off to do the right thing. He should de-escalate, can hear Nat’s voice in the back of his head telling him to, but he pushes on, matching Bradley’s tone. “You aren’t, you’ve been tense and nervous and cagey the whole time we’ve been here. You don’t want to go out, don’t even want to drive the Bronco around anywhere and I know how much you love showing off that stupid car. Something’s up, and we just want to help!”

Bradley scoffs out a derisive laugh. “Yeah, you two want to help. With your perfect lives and your academy records-”

“What the fuck does the academy have to do with this?” Jake interrupts.

“Everything! The academy has everything to do with this!” Bradley yells. But then he bites his tongue, as if realizing he’s getting close to revealing something he doesn’t want to talk about. “Look, just, everything’s fine, Hangman,” Bradley says, voice quieter. “It’s fine, and I’ll be better once we’re at sea. Just, trust me, okay?”

Jake stares at Bradley, eyes wide in disbelief. “Trust you? You want me to trust you, after months of you clearly hiding something and continuing to do so now? Seriously?” Jake asks, throwing his hands in the air. “Un-fucking-believable.”

“Jake, c’mon, I’m telling you it’s fine.”

“But it’s not!” Jake yells, getting even closer to Bradley. “It’s not and I’ve watched for months as you’ve hidden this thing that is clearly bugging you, clearly something that bothers you about San Diego to the point you’ve barely been to the beach! Which I know you love! So no, Bradshaw, everything is not fine and I’m not gonna pretend like it is! So just tell me what the fuck is up with you.”

“No!” Bradley yells, taking a step back. “You can’t force me to tell you. And it doesn’t matter anyways, we’re leaving San Diego and then I’m putting in a transfer back to the east coast or somewhere, anywhere else that’s not here. So it’s fine, and believe it or not, Seresin, I don’t owe you any kind of explanation,” he spits out.

And before Jake can reply, can say anything, Bradley turns and walks away. Jake stands on the beach, stunned into silence. He didn’t think it would go like this, never imagined Bradley would walk away from this, from him and threaten to really leave by transferring. It cracks something open in his chest, a wound he never expected to find there and doesn’t really know what to do with.

It’s ugly on the carrier. The argument that night fractures something in their friendship, something neither of them wants to apologize for or address.

They don’t talk about it, never bring up the shouting match that anyone on the porch of the Hard Deck would have been able to hear. Neither man apologizes, neither man thinks they should. As time on the carrier passes, the fractures between them turn into a chasm.

“God, I wish I was there to knock your stupid heads together,” Nat says one night when Jake Skypes her. “I told you to leave it alone, dumbass.”

“I know, but I just…I couldn’t, Nat. He looked so tense and worried, like something was going to come out and grab him. He was on edge all the time, ” Jake explains.

Nat drops her head into her hands, sighs loudly. “I know, Jake. I could hear it in his voice when he called me,” she admits. “But it’s his life and his story to tell, we can’t force it out of him. If anything, you shoved it back farther and made him even less likely to ever tell us.”

Jake hangs his head, knows she’s right. “And now he won’t even talk to me, barely looks at me unless he has to.”

“It’ll get better, Jake,” Nat reassures him. “He’s still talking to me, just give it some time. Maybe think about apologizing?”

“I shouldn’t have to,” he grumbles. “All I did was point out that he clearly isn’t fine and he could talk to me about what was going on.”

Nat lets out a pained noise and Jake snaps his head up, looks at her through the screen with a questioning look.

“If you think that argument is gonna get him to talk to you, you’re an even bigger idiot than I thought,” Nat explains, one eyebrow raised. “He didn’t want to talk, he didn’t want to admit things weren’t fine. All you had to do was remind him you’re there for him if he ever wants to talk. Instead, you call out his obviously very personal lie and double down on it when Bradley continued to tell you he was fine and handling it. Sometimes, when something is that personal and that painful, lying to yourself is easier and better than actually talking about it.”

Nat pauses and takes a breath before continuing. “So maybe, you should recognize that you confronted him and made him feel scared or something and just fucking apologize for bringing up something he clearly didn’t want to talk about. Okay?”

Jake chews his lip as he mulls over her words. “I’ll consider it.” There’s a chime in the room that lets Jake know his allotted time is nearly up. “Look, I gotta go. I’ll think about it, okay?”

“You better,” Nat snaps. “Look after yourself, okay? Him, too. Can’t have my boys getting hurt.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jake says before waving goodbye and closing the call.

True to his word, he thinks over Nat’s words as he makes his way back to his bunk.

There’s a part of him, a small part of him, that knows she’s right. Knows that sometimes, people lie to themselves to get through the day and shove down the hurt, act like they’ve moved past it. Hell, he’s done it himself.

But he also knows that pretending everything’s fine doesn’t make it so. He’d learned that lesson the hard way and doesn’t talk to his dad anymore because of it. It’s fine, he doesn’t need his blood family when he’s got his navy one to hold him up and get him by.

Bradley just needs to see that he has that, too. A navy family that’ll be there for him, no matter what.

By the time he’s back at their room - because of course he’s assigned to the same bunk as Bradley - Jake resolves to back off for now, but not forever.

That resolve holds strong the rest of their time at sea, keeping things tense between Bradley and Jake.

Even though they’d rather be talking to each other and Skyping Nat together, the way they always have. Even though they both miss how close they’d been in flight school, how close they were before shipping out on this deployment.

It makes for a rough time at sea, but they grit their teeth and get through it.

And before they know it, they’re back on land and granted leave before their next assignments.

“Got any plans for leave?” Jake asks Bradley as they pack their bags on base.

“Yeah, I’m gonna head out east. See Nat, maybe hit up some friends from Virginia.”

“Sounds like fun,” Jake says, focusing on his bags, ignoring the pain in his chest.

“You? Gonna go see the family?” Bradley asks, clenching his jaw.

Jake nods. “Yeah, I fly to Texas tomorrow morning. Spend a couple days there and then, I don’t know,” he sighs. “Was thinking of maybe hitting up Annapolis. Or something else on the east coast.” He shrugs, but his shoulders stay hunched up by his ears, betraying the tension still present between them.

“Sounds fun,” Bradley says, voice flat. “I’ve gotta go, I’m catching the red-eye tonight.” Bradley grabs his bags, moving to leave but pausing in the doorframe. “Have, uh, have a good leave, Jake. Stay safe and good luck with whatever’s next.”

And then he leaves before Jake can gather his thoughts to respond. And it’s the last time Jake sees Bradley for a long time.

when they barely spoke

“It’s crazy, we spent years talking and seeing each other every day and now, I haven’t heard from him in months! Months, Phoenix!” Jake explains as they walk around campus in Annapolis. “I just, I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Well, you could try emailing him,” Nat suggests, hiking her bag higher on her shoulder. Jake notices, takes it from her without a word and slings it over his shoulder with his own bag. “Thanks,” she says, the only acknowledgement of the action. “Just send him an email and apologize, Jake. Tell him you miss him, that you want to talk.”

“But I don’t want to apologize!” Jake whines.

“Why not?” Nat asks, shooting him a quizzical look. “He’s one of your best friends, you just said that. We used to talk all the time, the three of us together, and now we don’t. I talk to Bradley and to you and fill you both in on how the others doing. You clearly both miss each other, so apologize and stop making me the messenger pigeon.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong though,” Jake says, matter of factly.

“You so did, I can’t believe you’re still acting like this,” Nat points out, rolling her eyes. “You pushed Bradley to talk about something he didn’t want to talk about. You kept pushing and prodding and poking when he made it very clear he didn’t want to talk about it. You kept pushing even when he said to stop. You didn’t respect him, and you did it on a ship where Bradley had nowhere to escape to. You absolutely did something wrong and owe him an apology. So man up, Seresin, and send the man an email.”

Nat huffs and walks away, knows that Jake will follow anyway with her bag. They’re roommates at an off-campus apartment in Annapolis, spending an academic year as TAs per Navy protocol. So Jake will follow her home and they’ll avoid talking about Bradley until the next time Nat Skypes him, wherever he is, and she’ll update him.

It’s a strange set-up. It’s such a stark difference to how they started, three inseparable friends during the years of flight school and aircraft certification, and the constant catching up they did while first separated. To think it’s all changed now…it’s weird and strange.

Jake knows he has Nat and Javy as friends, but Bradley had so quickly become an important person in his life that his absence is felt so strongly now.

It’s a hollow feeling, losing Bradley and not talking to him. Jake doesn’t like it. But he doesn’t know how to fix it, despite the suggestions Nat gave him. He doesn’t like thinking that he caused Bradley pain and is the reason they aren’t talking.

So, he ignores that. Buries his head in the sand and fruitlessly searches for other ways to get Bradley to talk to him again, to have him back in his life. Because he misses his best friend.

It’s only a few days later that Nat is talking with Bradley, stationed somewhere in the Pacific and far from Annapolis.

“You know, Jake misses you as much as you miss him,” Nat says casually, after he’d asked about the other man’s wellbeing. “Maybe you could send him an email or something so that you two can start talking again?”

Bradley sighs, wiping a hand down his face. “I’d love to be able to do that, Nat, you know I would,” he says, exhaustion seeping into his voice, “but I can’t. He was really trying to force me to talk about something, and I told him I wasn’t ready. That it wasn’t his business.”

“We’re your best friends, Bradley,” Nat points out, “we care about you, doesn’t that make something that’s clearly bothering you our business?”

“No, not when it’s something I don’t need to talk about.”

“Fine,” she concedes, not happily. “But I’m telling you, Rooster, sooner or later whatever this is will bite you in the ass. And the longer you and Jake keep this fight up, the farther apart you’ll drift and the more alone you’ll feel. Just, keep that in mind, okay?”

Bradley’s silent for a bit, almost so long that Nat checks that the call is still connected.

“I’ll keep it in mind,” he says, finally, “but I’m not going to promise to do anything about it. The situation’s been fine for years. It’ll be okay.”

“Ok.”

They wrap the conversation up not too long after that, Nat strategically bringing Jake up towards the end of Bradley’s scheduled phone time. Once she hangs up, she sighs, slumping back into her chair.

It’s exhausting, managing the back and forth between her boys. No matter how much she nudges them back towards each other, towards a reconciliation, they stubbornly refuse.

It’s been months like this, probably longer, and it’s tiring. Nat misses having them both together. That feeling she started noticing towards the end of flight school flutters in her chest again, that something more is there, but she can’t do anything about it if Jake and Bradley refuse to talk to each other.

So, she just sighs and stands, going back to her other stubborn idiot.

The exhausting pattern continues, spending most of her time with Jake while they’re in Annapolis, biding their time teaching until they can be reassigned to fighter jet squadrons, and talking with Bradley when the time permits.

One day in the spring, she gets fed up with Bradley and lets him have it.

“I don’t get it, Rooster,” she snaps. “I know you didn’t want to talk about what made you so tense in San Diego but is that really worth losing your friendship with Jake? Straining your friendship with me?”

“It’s not like that, Nat,” Bradley shoots back, “it’s just, hard to explain.”

“Start from the beginning, I find that tends to help simplify things,” she suggests sharply, arms crossed across her chest.

“It’s a long story and not one I tell. Anyone.” Bradley takes a breath, running a hand through his hair. “Just, trust me, it’s bigger than whatever Jake told you the argument was about and just let it go. I didn’t want to say anything then and I still don’t want to say anything now. Not even to you.”

Nat bites her lip, trying to keep the tears stinging at the corners of eyes at bay. “Fine, be that way,” she says. “But, you’re gonna push more people away and wind up alone if you keep acting like that. So just keep that in mind. You tell the people you care about the things that are bothering you. You don’t just keep it locked away. We’re here for you, both of us,” she emphasizes, “always have been, always will be. All you need to do is talk, to lean on us.”

Bradley’s silent, not responding to her words. She can tell from the set of his jaw that he’s barely even listening to them, resolute in his silence.

“Fine. Be that way,” Nat snaps. “Guess I’ll just leave you to it. Take care of yourself out there, Rooster.” And she closes the call.

It’s the start of an icy patch between Natasha and Bradley, something neither of them had expected. They still check in with each other sporadically but the conversations are definitely shorter and chillier than usual.

Part of Nat hates it. A larger part of her knows it’s better to protect herself now than be heartbroken and disappointed later.

It’s not long after that conversation that Nat and Jake get reassigned to squadrons, leaving Annapolis once again.

Jake takes a turn in the Atlantic fleet with Javy, the two of them excited to be reunited and flying together again.

Nat gets sent to the Pacific, where she reunites with Callie, her roommate from flight school.

It’s the first time all three of them have been in separate places in a long time. But this time, they don’t talk nearly as often and no one is looking to see if their leaves match up to see each other and catch up.

It’s a stark difference, one felt strongly by all three aviators.

when there was three again

Eight months later, Nat walks into a bar in North Island, trailed by Callie and her pilot Neil, and a few other aviators from squadrons on their carrier.

A thrill runs up her spine when she spots Jake and Javy by the pool table, excited to see her friend even if they haven’t spoken in nearly six weeks.

“Well, if it ain’t Phoenix,” Jake drawls, leaning on his pool cue.

Nat takes her turn introducing Jake to the others in her group, the ones who hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting Jake before.

It’s a standoff, a testament to how broken things are between them as friends, and it makes Nat’s heart clench.

And then Bradley strolls in as well.

Her heart leaps at seeing him in person even as she keeps a stoic face. It’s been years, and now he’s here. He’s here in North Island, looking far too relaxed for someone who was by all accounts stressed to hell and back the last time he was here.

But he’s here, he’s stateside, and he’s part of whatever crazy mission this is they’ve all been assigned to. Nat will take the small mercies and get back at him for not telling her he was coming some other time.

Or the second she gets a pool cue and can ram it into him.

The rest of the night manages to pass without incident.

Nat wishes the same could be said for the next day.

Instead, they’re introduced to Maverick and the tenseness Jake had described to her the first time he and Bradley were on this base returns.

It’s present all day and it’s not until they’re released at the end of it that Nat can confront Bradley about it.

“He pulled my papers,” Bradley says, not meeting her eyes.

“What? Who?” she asks, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion.

“Maverick,” Bradley answers, “he pulled my papers for the academy. Set me back, since I needed the athletic scholarship at UVA to make college work and then I had to go through enlistment and OCS separately.”

Her jaw drops as things start clicking into place. There’s still some holes in the puzzle, but of course if someone Bradley had known in the Navy nearly sabotaged his career and was in the San Diego area, he’d be tense and not looking for a reunion.

“You’re here now though, aren’t you?” she asks instead, trying to point out any positives she could find.

“Yeah, but Maverick’s the one who taught me to fly. He knew I wanted to do this, be a naval aviator like him and my dad, and he took my best chance away,” Bradley explained bitterly. “My dad went to the academy. I just, I just wanted to be like him, to feel more connected to him,” he whispers.

Nat doesn’t get a chance to respond, as Hondo comes out onto the tarmac to check on them and hurry them along to the showers. She mulls it over though, the betrayal Bradley must have felt and the grudge he held onto as an eighteen year old. It starts making sense, but she knows she’s missing more of the story.

She wants to find Jake, to talk to him and Bradley at the same time but she knows they’re still not on speaking terms. That first night at the Hard Deck was rough and Jake’s inflated ego from getting his first kill hasn’t made anything easier.

And then Jake makes it even worse by revealing the missing puzzle piece to the whole class.

That Maverick used to fly with Bradley’s dad. That Maverick was the one flying the day Bradley’s dad died.

Once Maverick and Hondo had settled the group, gotten them to calm down and separate from each other, they were dismissed.

Bradley storms out of the room immediately, shoulders hunched up tight as he leaves.

Jake stays, leaning against a window with a smirk on his face, almost like he’s holding court.

“You’re an ass, you know?” Nat asks, approaching Jake. “I’ve always known you had the ability, but this was spectacular, Hangman. I’d thought you’d changed over the years, that maybe being friends meant you thought before you spoke, thought before revealing someone’s secret like that. Guess I was wrong.”

“Oh, c’mon, Phoenix,” Jake drawls. “The picture of Maverick and Rooster’s dad is downstairs, it’s the picture of their whole Top Gun class. There’s a declassified report of their hops, it’s hardly a secret,” he points out.

“Except that Rooster never told us any of it himself. He had a reason for not doing that and instead of thinking, you just act. You just expose it and don’t give a damn about the consequences. You’re a fucking asshole, Hangman,” Nat spits out, turning on her heel and leaving the room.

She looks down the hallway, thinking of the base layout and where Bradley would most likely run to. It takes her a few minutes of searching, but eventually she finds him.

“Hey,” she says softly, entering the empty briefing room she finds him in. “How are you doing?”

Bradley lets out a wet scoff, betraying the tears he’d shed. “Alright, considering my biggest secret just got spilled out to the whole squadron.”

“He’s an ass, I told him,” Nat says, stepping closer to Bradley. “That wasn’t his information to tell, and definitely not that way. Something’s gotten into him.”

“His ego, I think you mean,” Bradley replies, glancing up at her. “He’s always had that, always wanted to share every finding he had with the class. Today, it just happened to be me.” He lets out a hollow laugh. “Lucky me.”

“Seems like you were lucky if you grew up with Maverick,” Nat points out with a shrug. “He seems like a cool guy, must have been if he’s the one who taught you to fly.”

Bradley twists his mouth into a sordid smile. “Yeah, he did. He’s the one who taught me. And then ripped it away when he pulled my papers.” He let out a sigh and stood. “Lucky me, huh?” And with that, he walks out of the room and leaves Nat alone.

The next day, Maverick has them on the beach by the Hard Deck playing football. A team-building exercise, he says, and a much needed one.

It’s a chaotic day, involving two footballs and simultaneous offense and defense. They all see the genius behind Maverick’s idea, getting them to work together and showing how much they will need to rely on their dogfighting skills to accomplish the mission.

Once Bob scores a touchdown, the game falls apart. They’ve been in the sun all day and are ready for a break from the game. Maverick’s left at that point, telling them just to be ready for the next day back in the briefing room and up in the air.

“Well, drinks on me?” Jake asks. “Or at least the first round.”

And so they head to the Hard Deck. Thankfully, it’s a quieter weeknight and they can easily snag some tables and get the first round. By luck or fate, Nat, Jake, and Bradley wind up close to each other at a table at the end of their group.

It’s awkward, none of them knowing what to say. Nat looks down at the table, Jake takes a drink of his beer, and Bradley picks at the label of his.

Jake looks over at the two of them, sees the awkwardness and tension rolling off them. “Jeez, you’d think we weren’t best friends, the way we’re tiptoeing around,” he says, trying to break the tension.

“Are we best friends?” Bradley asks, still focused on his bottle. “Haven’t exactly acted like that in a while.”

“I’d like us to be,” Nat chimes in, looking up at them both. “I miss you guys.”

“I’ve missed you, too, Phoenix,” Bradley says, shooting her a small smile. “Life’s not the same with your check-ins.”

She lets out a chuckle at that, knowing that she is meticulous about making sure Bradley or Jake is okay whenever they get a chance to talk. Not that she’s done it in over half a year, thanks to their fights.

“Yeah, it’s a little weird not hearing your voices on the phone,” Jake says. “I miss it.”

Silence falls over them again, tense as they figure out what to say next.

“Look, I want us to figure this out. I’ve missed you guys, missed you both, so much,” Bradley admits, “but we’ve got to get through this detachment first. So let’s just, focus on the mission and then when it’s done we’ll talk this out. Figure it out.”

“Yeah, that's probably smart,” Jake agrees, with a sigh. “So, truce until then?”

“Works for me,” Nat says quietly. “It’s the smartest decision.”

“Ok, so truce for now. And then we’ll sit after this, figure it all out,” Bradley says, more definitively.

And so they go about their own ways the rest of the night, the next few days. Even through Nat’s engine fire and ejection. It’s strange, only having Bob and Javy by her side as they get cleared by the medical teams, leaves a hollow feeling in Nat’s chest as the two people she most wants to comfort her are absent. Even Javy looks over at her, silently asking where they are but she can’t give him a proper answer.

It’s hard. But it’s necessary. So, they do it. Treat each other like colleagues and nothing more. And then they’re on the carrier and Nat and Bradley are selected for the mission. But not Jake.

Jake almost goes to find them that night, to say screw the truce and their promise to talk it out after tomorrow. He has to say something now, to let out the words that have been clawing at his throat for far too long at this point.

He knows he screwed up years ago when he confronted Bradley about his weirdness over being in San Diego, understands better than ever now why Bradley wouldn’t want to talk about it. Jake knows he screwed that up and should have apologized the last time he was on a carrier with Bradley. But now, there’s no time. Bradley’s getting sleep before the mission. The mission that’s improbable, nearly impossible.

But they’re both going out there and Jake’s just on standby, ready in case anything goes wrong.

Which, of course it goes wrong. Of course both Maverick and Bradley go down in enemy territory, both of them ignoring orders and getting stranded. Forcing themselves to work together and find the craziest way out. And of course, they have bogies on their tail and Jake has to get himself ready to go up there and save their asses.

Which he does, of course.

It’s not until hours after they’re all back on deck that the three of them get a chance to talk, to be alone together. The debriefings, medical checks, scheduling of further debriefings and reports took ages.

But now, they’re in a bunk room, alone. Hugging each other and soaking in the fact that they’re all alive and in one piece.

“Rooster, if you ever pull some shit like that again I’m going to kill you myself,” Nat manages to say through her tears, voice muffled as she hugs both Bradley and Jake.

“I had to, Nat,” Bradley says, “I couldn’t let him die, not when I could help him.”

“But why? I thought you hated him,” Jake asks.

Bradley pulls back from the hug, shrugs as he sits on the bed of the bunk they’d found. “I thought I did, too. But I think, I think I did at one point. But now, I just want to know why he pulled my papers. It’s kinda like with you two, I was mad at one point, but now that’s faded and I just miss you and I don’t want to let this stupid fight go on any longer.”

This time, when silence falls over them it’s more comfortable. Some of the tension lifts from around them and they all smile, breathing a little easier.

“Rooster, you gotta know I’m sorry for pushing you all those years ago,” Jake says, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You made it clear you didn’t want to talk and I kept pushing when I should have let it be.”

“You were just trying to help,” Bradley interrupts, taking Jake’s hand. “I know that now, and I’m sorry for icing you out while we were on the ship.”

“Eh, I probably deserved it.”

“You definitely did,” Nat snorts, sitting down next to Bradley. “But, I get what you’re saying, Rooster.” She pauses, takes a breath. “And I’m sorry for the times I brought it up and tried to force you to talk about it. You weren’t ready and I should have stopped after the first time.”

Bradley slings an arm around her shoulder, tugs her close to his side. “You were just trying to help, to fix our friendship.”

“Yeah, and I’m sorry for shutting you down whenever you’d suggest I apologize to Rooster,” Jake says, locking eyes with Nat. “That was pretty shitty of me.”

Nat scoffs, tipping her head against Bradley’s shoulder. “God, we’re kind of shit friends, aren’t we? One fight and we splintered apart for years.”

“You tried to keep us together,” Bradley points out, nudging her head with his shoulder. “You really did, Nat and I think that got us here. You never really gave up on us.”

“Okay, before this detachment none of us had spoken to each other in like six months,” Nat argues.

“Time zones, deployments, stubbornness, that’s more on us than you,” Jake points out. “You really did try your best, not your fault we made it difficult.”

Nat sighs, leaning more into Bradley. “Had to try and keep my boys together. Last thing I ever wanted was to lose you,” she admits.

“You haven’t lost us, Nat,” Bradley murmurs, turning his head to press a kiss into her hair.

“Haven’t yet and won’t,” Jake promises, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder.

“So, that’s it? We’re friends again?” Nat asks, eyes flitting between both of them.

“Yeah,” Bradley says, smiling, “yeah, we are. Sure, we’ve got some things to figure out but we can do that as friends, right, Hangman?”

“Absolutely, Rooster.”

“Good,” Nat says, “I like having my boys back.”

They head to their own separate bunks after that, too tired from the mission and the accompanying bumps and bruises to talk much more.

But it only takes a few more days for the Dagger Squad to be back on land in North Island and once they’re dismissed from the last debrief of the detachment, they’re all at the Hard Deck.

Once again, Nat, Jake, and Bradley gravitate towards each other, their friendship growing stronger each day.

Bradley knows though, looking at the two of them, that friendship isn’t the only thing growing between them. It may have been what started their whole thing, but it’s gone much deeper than that at this point.

“Hey,” he says to them, catching their attention, “we’re all good, right?”

Nat frowns at him, “Of course, Rooster. We’re all good.”

“Yeah, we’re good. Getting better, too,” Jake says with a wink.

Bradley laughs, smiles down at his shoes. “Good, good, just wanted to make sure.”

Nat nudges him with an elbow. “Hey, what’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Just, happy I’ve got you guys back,” Bradley says, smiling at her.

“And?” Nat prompts.

“And, I just, I’ve been thinking,” Bradley says slowly.

“Oh, been thinking, have we?” Jake teases.

“Yeah, thinking,” Bradley says, gathering his courage. “I’ve been thinking I don’t want to be without you guys again. You’re important to me, and I don’t want to lose you.”

“You’ve got us, Rooster,” Jake reassures him, reaching out to lay his hand on the other man’s arm. “You’ve got us and we aren’t going anywhere, best friends, right?”

“Right,” Bradley scoffs, “except maybe it’s not just that, maybe it’s more.”

“More?” Nat asks, tentatively.

“More,” Bradley repeats, meeting her eyes, “more, like I know I can’t get through life without either one of you. Like life was miserable when I wasn’t talking to you, Jake, and then it got worse when I started fighting with Nat. More, like maybe I love you guys.”

“I love how stubborn you are,” Jake blurts out, looking right at Bradley. “You could rival me in stubbornness and I know I’m pretty damn stubborn. I love how you wear your Hawaiian shirts no matter the weather and insist on keeping your shades on when you play the piano, no matter how dark or light it is. And Nat, I love how you’re the glue that keeps us together ninety percent of the time. That you fought us so hard and tried to get us both to apologize, refusing to give up until you had to. I love that you always know what you want, that you go for it, no matter what anyone else might think of you,” Jake confesses, reaching for Nat’s hand as well.

“I’ve loved you both for so long I almost forget what its like to not be in love with you,” Nat admits, smiling at her boys. “I love that you’re stubborn, that you always have to push each other and test me sometimes. I love that you guys are the first people I want to talk to when I wake up and the last people I want to talk to before I go to bed. I love you both, even when you drive me crazy.”

They smile at each other, eyes all a little wet as they let each of their words sink in.

And then, Bradley reaches for Nat and kisses her soundly, kisses her like he’s wanted to for years. Jake makes a noise and scooches closer to them, laying his hand around Bradley’s shoulder. And when they break for air, Jake guides Bradley’s face over to him and takes his turn kissing the other man. Nat’s hand finds Jake’s again and squeezes it, feeling him squeeze hers back before he breaks his kiss with Bradley to give her one.

It’s heady, it’s a lot. It’s even more for them to work through as they continue righting their friendship, but Nat knows it’ll be worth it. She has her boys, she thinks as Jake runs his tongue along the seam of her lips. They have each other, and they’ll be stronger than they were before.

#my writing #fic stuff #top gun #top gun: maverick #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw #writing #top gun fic #natasha trace #jake seresin #rooster #phoenix #hangman #bradley rooster bradshaw #natasha phoenix trace #jake hangman seresin

10 notes · View notes

dramioneasks · 6 months ago

Note

Do you have recommendations for a cozy rainy day? I love the atmosphere in Out of Mind by galfoy. Some sweet tender moments, angst and a small mystery!

baby classes and reconnecting with old enemies - riddikulus_puff - T, one-shot - It has been twenty-five years since the end of the Second Wizarding War and it seemed as though everyone had moved on with their lives. Many of the students who had fought in the war had moved to the countryside or even across the sea to somewhere they could be aware of the trauma they had experienced. Draco Malfoy was haunting Malfoy Manor, the cries of his five-month-old son echoing throughout the corridors as the two boys mourned the loss of their late mother and wife, Astoria Greengrass, who had died five months ago in childbirth. He avoided everyone until Pansy forced him out of the house and made him attend baby classes that were happening in the local library with other parents and their children. This was where he was reconnected with Hermione Granger, learning that she too had a five-month-old and was also mourning the loss of their partner. A one-shot for the 2023 Twenty-Five Years Later Fic Fest.

To All the Wizards I’ve Loved Before - takenbytheview - M, 7 chapters - “What if—” Malfoy begins, twisting his signet ring with the forefinger and thumb of his other hand. “What if you didn’t tell him?” “What?” “What if we let people think we were actually together? Just for a little while. Not just the Weasel. Everybody.” A Dramione Eighth Year adaptation of Jenny Han’s To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before.

Lovefool - WillowingScribe - E, 12 chapters - Draco gets doomed by the Ministry to live without his magic for a year. Hermione, tasked to chauffeur the proud but now magically-impotent wizard to a small cottage in the middle of nowhere, never imagined she would be responsible for teaching her former nemesis how to use a toaster. Neither of them would’ve thought that through their forced collaboration they would learn to appreciate each other beyond their wildest imagination. OR A decade spanning love story inspired by When Harry Met Sally but with a much heavier dash of spice.

Jamais Vu - CosmicCthulhu - M, 15 chapters, Words: 123,328 - After a fall (from the world’s smallest step-ladder, mind you) Draco lost his memories, and all he can remember was his life as a teenager in the middle of a war. It was certainly going to be hard to adapt to this new life he knew nothing about – especially considering that he was married to Hermione Granger, of all people.

The Malfoy Mystery - kkavyaa - G, 23 chapters - One day, Draco felt himself changing. No, not like puberty, but something else. He discovers things about himself that his family has hidden since his birth. His family, his entire life had been a hoax. He has trouble accepting this reality and has to balance this as he attends his last year at Hogwarts after the defeat of you-know-who.

-Lisa

#anonymous #angst #mystery

18 notes · View notes

klaineccfanficlibrary · 1 year ago

Note

hii do you have any fics where kurt has to fight for / woo blaine after a fight/breakup/conflict ?

HI - we have so many great reconciliation or reunion fics that have been written. I can't always remember which are Kurt trying to woo back Blaine, but here are some examples which I hope are what you are looking for. ~Jen

Passed down like folk songs by dizzywhizz

A story of Kurt growing up, meeting his best friend and losing him and finding him again, discovering himself in the process.

~~~~~

A Song For Cordelia by MelissaMotown [PDF] [EPUB]

Kurt never called Blaine after the break up, despite Isabelle’s advice. It was not out of spite, or because he didn’t believe she was right, but because his heart didn’t know how to forgive. Five years later, when their paths cross once more, Kurt and Blaine decides to be friends again - just friends. But where the heart goes, the man follows…

Part Two: One of the Good Guys [PDF] [EPUB]

Part Three: Carry Me Home (never completed) [PDF] [EPUB]

~~~~~

A Week in the Hamptons by Afvampd Read at: [PDF] [EPUB]

Faced with a “live or die” situation in his career, Kurt Hummel, a small fashion designer in New York City, decides to take a breather and escape the city for a week in a retreat organized by his best friend. Thinking he has left his nightmare behind, he heads to Southampton, but what awaits him there is a far bigger nightmare; the love of his life who broke his heart 6 years ago. One week stuck in the same house, will Kurt regret having left the city, or is this nightmare really a blessing in disguise?

~~~~~

The Luckiest by wordplay

Blaine broke Kurt’s heart 3 months before high school graduation. Now, four years later, their group of friends reunites at a lake house to marry off two of their own. With luck, Kurt and Blaine will also be able to finally mend something that’s stayed broken for far too long.

~~~~~

Someone Like You by @iconicklaine

Kurt and Blaine keep up their very own version of “When Harry Met Sally” for years, a friendship fraught with sexual tension and longing, until the agendas of Adele (yes, THE Adele), a bored NY socialite and a super-sweet hetero couple bring our boys together. The only problem is… they’re both in committed relationships.

~~~~~

It’s A Wonderful Life by DireDyre

Kurt never forgave Blaine for cheating, they never got back together, they moved on, married other people, started other families but ten-years-later when Rachel invites them to a party they realize they never moved on at all.

~~~~~

Since Sense Sensory by @gleefulpoppet

One rainy night, nestled at a patio table of a small café, Kurt broke off his engagement with Blaine in a moment of heated frustration that had been building for weeks. That was 12 years ago, and they haven’t seen each other since. Suddenly, they may find themselves reunited in a place they never expected. If you had a second chance with your first love, would you take it?

~~~~~

Stick Season by BlurglesmurfKlaine @jinglejavey

After Finn dies, Kurt leaves everything he knows behind without a trace. His hometown, his family, his boyfriend. When his dad has a medical scare, he returns to Lima, one year after breaking Blaine’s heart with no explanation.

A non-chronological series of one shots and drabbles set in this universe. Based on the Stick Season album by Noah Kahan

~~~~~

With Every Broken Bone by @spaceorphan18

After finding that living together is proving to be too difficult, Kurt Hummel breaks off his engagement, and finds himself alone in the city that summer. As his life heads in a new direction, Kurt's forced to look back at the past, and re-examine his future, where he learns a little about himself, a lot about love, and that second chances are always a possibility.

Set at the end of season 5, a canon-compliant story that examines the question -- What was Kurt's journey between season 5 and season 6?

~~~~~

Hush, Hush The world is Quiet by starsandcologne

AU Prompt: “Have you noticed how exhausting it’s been ever since you moved back in?” Blaine’s ears rang. But instead of reacting in anger that night he just quietly apologies to Kurt ending the argument. After that Blaine becomes a virtual ghost in their apartment. Its not that hard considering he’s had plenty of practice growing up. It just hurts that his Dad was right all along about him being a nuisance. Luckily he knows how to fix it. Live by the motto “Don’t be seen, don’t be heard.”

~~~~~

Reprise by Calliope_Melpomene Read at: [PDF]

During Kurt’s senior year at NYADA, a life-changing event causes him to take a leave of absence and what was supposed to be a short stay turns into years. His life certainly isn’t what he expected, but he’s not exactly unhappy. His name is not lit up in lights on Broadway, but he’s involved in community theater and LGBTQ groups in Columbus and has friends who love him and casual lovers. But turning 35 has made him restless and he’s longing for the life he had before. Burt talks him into taking some classes at Ohio State University to finish his degree and start focusing on himself again. What Kurt finds on the OSU campus is much more than he bargained for.

#klaine fanfiction #fic finder #reconciliation #reunion fic

37 notes · View notes

118diazs · 20 days ago

Text

au's for eddie i want based on 80s/90s movies i think eddie loves.

sleepless in seattle. After the death of his wife, Sam Baldwin, moves to Seattle with his son, Jonah. When Jonah calls in to a talk-radio program to find a new wife for his father, Sam grudgingly gets on the line to discuss his feelings. Annie Reed, a reporter in Baltimore, hears Sam speak and falls for him, even though she is engaged. Unsure where it will lead, she writes Sam a letter asking him to meet her at the Empire State Building on Valentine's Day. when harry met sally. in 1977, college graduates Harry Burns and Sally Albright share a contentious car ride from Chicago to New York, during which they argue about whether men and women can ever truly be strictly platonic friends. Ten years later, Harry and Sally meet again at a bookstore, and in the company of their respective best friends, Jess and Marie, attempt to stay friends without sex becoming an issue between them. rocky. Rocky Balbo, a small-time boxer from working-class Philadelphia, is arbitrarily chosen to take on the reigning world heavyweight champion, Apollo Creed, when the undefeated fighter's scheduled opponent is injured. While training with feisty former bantamweight contender Mickey Goldmill, Rocky tentatively begins a relationship with Adrian, the wallflower sister of his meat-packer pal Paulie. dirty dancing. Baby is one listless summer away from the Peace Corps. Hoping to enjoy her youth while it lasts, she's disappointed when her summer plans deposit her at a sleepy resort in the Catskills with her parents. Her luck turns around, however, when the resort's dance instructor, Johnny, enlists Baby as his new partner, and the two fall in love. Baby's father forbids her from seeing Johnny, but she's determined to help him perform the last big dance of the summer overboard. Snobbish and wealthy Joanna Stayton is living a life of leisure with her husband, Grant, when she falls off their yacht and suffers amnesia. Grant takes the opportunity to rid himself of the demanding Joanna -- but Dean, a widowed carpenter with four kids who once worked for Joanna, arrives and claims she's his wife. Joanna can't remember her past identity, but has trouble believing that she was ever meant to be a working-class mother of four. breakfast club. Five high school students from different walks of life endure a Saturday detention under a power-hungry principal. The disparate group includes rebel John, princess Claire, outcast Allison, brainy Brian and Andrew, the jock. Each has a chance to tell his or her story, making the others see them a little differently -- and when the day ends, they question whether school will ever be the same - we should make this like. adult version. and being stuck in a work place for some reason. pretty woman. A prostitute and a wealthy businessman fall for one another, forming an unlikely pair; while on a business trip in Los Angeles, Edward, who makes a living buying and breaking up companies, picks up a prostitute, Vivian, on a lark; after Edward hires Vivian to stay with him for the weekend, the two get closer, only to discover there are significant hurdles to overcome as they try to bridge the gap between their very different worlds. the parent trap. In this update of a 1961 film, twins Annie and Hallie are strangers until happenstance unites them. The preteen girls' divorced parents, Nick and Elizabeth are living on opposite sides of the Atlantic, each with one child. After meeting at camp, American Hallie and British-raised Annie engineer an identity swap, giving both the chance to spend time with the parent they've missed. If the scheme works, it might just make the family whole again.

before sunrise. On his way to Vienna, American Jesse, meets Celine , a student returning to Paris. After long conversations forge a surprising connection between them, Jesse convinces Celine to get off the train with him in Vienna. Since his flight to the U.S. departs the next morning and he has no money for lodging, they wander the city together, taking in the experiences of Vienna and each other. As the night progresses, their bond makes separating in the morning a difficult choice.

#WISHLIST.#all this but like......gay ........ can we imagine with me 🧘‍♀️#i'll add more as i find them

3 notes · View notes

type-three-djinni · 1 year ago

Text

March in media

📚 readings

Ron Kamonohashi - Deranged Detective (vol. 3 to 8): not sure exactly how I feel about how the story deals with bloodlines and this "sickness" but I am having fun with the character dynamic so we'll see where this is going 3,5/5

Sanji's food wars: my pretty wife using Zoro's sword??? Being successful and pretty? 5/5

Hanako-kun vol 18: the hananene/mitsukou parallels truly be paralleling in these chapters 4/5

Spy x family vol 12: WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT ENDING WHAT THE FUCK 4/5

Daughter of the moon goddess: I have to be honest, I didn't finish this book during March despite my new year commitment because I had to study for some tests, but I was missing only the last few chapters and I finished it on april 1st so I'm counting it. Anyways, I really liked it! And a lot of stuff happens, but without feeling too much, I had a lot of fun 4/5

🍿 movies

When Harry met Sally: romcoms are my Achille's heel, and the insane sweater game of this movie makes up for the sheer stupidity of "men and women cant be friends" 4/5

Catherine Called Birdy: the cast is effervescent, and, while it sways a bit in terms of tone, it was a fun watch 3,5/5

Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind: one of those movies that leaves you feeling emptied out, but in the good way. 4,5/5

Red, white and royal blue: their banter is so fucking cute that I almost forgot how much of a nightmare they must have been for their security detail 4/5

Spirit, stallion of the Cimarron: when I was a kid, this movie rewrote my entire dna. Now that I am an adult I can also marvel about the dark magic they must have done to make horse faces emote and communicate without words 10/5

Colorful: the main character is so irritating good lord 2/5

Lilo and Stitch: I missed this movie so much 5/5

Madagascar: oh the good old classics of my youth 🥩/5

📺 series

Overlord (season 1): the premise is very interesting and yet. I was so bored. 2/5

3 notes · View notes

justagalwhowrites · 2 years ago

Note

hello love!

I hope you’re doing amazing and taking care of yourself I wanted to ask you since we gotta till 2025 for season 2 of TLOU I don’t know what to watch in the meantime so what shows or movies do you like or recommend???

OMG hi lovely!

I'm doing great thank you so much for asking! I hope you are, too!!

I haven't been watching much lately, I've been spending basically all my downtime writing lol BUT here's some stuff that I've generally enjoyed over the past few (maybe 10?) years!

Shows:

The Sopranos - Watched this right at the start of the pandemic and almost immediately saw why it was considered one of the best TV shows ever made. The idea of a mob boss going to a therapist? 10/10, fabulous. (HBO/Max)

The Newsroom - I'm a former journalist and lover of Aaron Sorkin so this show was addictive for me. Give me a good walk and talk dialogue sequence any day. Season one is far and away the best but the other two ain't bad. (HBO/Max)

Crazy Ex-Girlfriend - This show was CRIMINALLY underrated. Several new musical numbers every episode, the writing is so damn brilliant it should be taught in school if it's not already. It also tackles mental health beautifully and is hilarious without being overly silly. (Netflix)

Fleabag - Brilliant, insightful, funny and heartbreaking all at once. Phoebe Waller Bridge is a genius. The worst thing about it is that it's so damn short. (Amazon)

Andor - Probably the best Star Wars series so far (SORRY MANDO I LOVE YOU SO MUCH) the storytelling and character work here is so damn good. If you haven't seen it yet, make it a priority. (Disney+)

Movies:

Baby Driver - A love letter to what you can do with sound in film, it's got so much to enjoy. Great performances, editing that's pure genius, excellent storytelling with fun action and a great script. Watch it if you haven't!

500 Days of Summer - in my opinion, this is the best "romantic comedy" (not sure it can REALLY be called that) since When Harry Met Sally. A really critical look at what it means to put the idea of someone over the actual person, it's funny and insightful while making its point.

Promising Young Woman - It's dark and funny and truthful and cathartic all at once. It's a movie length middle finger to the patriarchy and I'm all about it.

Knives Out - Everyone's probably already seen this but the fact that Daniel Craig plays a southern gay detective and is having the time of his life now that he's free of James Bond, it brings me so much joy. The mystery is great, the performances are top tier, it's damn near flawless. Will watch at any time. (Adjacent recommendation: Logan Lucky, a heist movie with a bunch of rednecks robbing a NASCAR race including Daniel Craig debuting his kooky southern drawl. Super fun!)

Nightcrawler - This was one that was super underrated (even though it was up for Best Original Screenplay at the oscars), a noir psychological thriller about a stringer who shoots video freelance for local TV stations. The appetite for bloody content pushes him further than you would expect. It's dark but so well done!

These might be a bit all over the map but hopefully there's some stuff here you've never seen and it's helpful!

Thank you for asking and for being here! Love you!

#ask #tv recs #movie recs

4 notes · View notes

fayes-fics · 2 years ago

Text

It Had To Be You: Chapter 5 - This Was Never The Way I Planned

Masterpost PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Anthony Bridgerton x Kate Sharma, Modern AU

Summary: A double date with an unexpected outcome...

artwork credit @colettebronte

Warnings: discussions of sex, swearing, public sexual acts.

Word Count: 3.0k

Authors Note: Unbetaed. A multi-chapter modern rom-com retelling of When Harry Met Sally. In this chapter, Benedict and reader attempt to set each other up, but it does not go at all to plan. This chapter is dedicated to @musicismyoxygen84 and published today to commemorate the birthday of Mr Thompson, the man who plays this titan of a fictional character. Enjoy <3

18 months ago (3 months later)

“Your face is naked!!”

“Not quite the greeting I was expecting,” he laughs and leans in to give you a quick hug.

It’s New Year's Eve, and Benedict has shaved his beard off since you saw him a few days before Christmas. He looks younger and older at once, somehow, without it. Very handsome, though. His strong jawline is even more apparent now. Bastard.

You’re at some fancy rooftop party somewhere on Shoreditch High St., agreeing to be each other's plus ones, both of you not wanting to stay home and get maudlin about how your lives have changed since the last New Year celebrated with other halves.

“I like it,” you offer, “I can see more of your face.”

“This is indeed my face,” he laughs. “I figure new year, new me,” he shrugs, and you completely understand his reasoning. You briefly considered dying your hair for a similar reset.

A few hours later, you’re both quite a few drinks in, sitting at the bar. Most people, by this point, are dancing. The music has a hypnotic, heavy bass that makes you sway subconsciously on your bar stool.

“Come on, let’s dance then,” it’s almost a defeated sigh as he hauls you to your feet, two large hands landing on your hips as he walks you forward from behind. The touch surprises you, but it’s most definitely not unwelcome.

“You don’t dance,” you laugh over your shoulder as he propels you towards the dancefloor. Then gasp as he grabs your hand and expertly spins you away and back, your body curled into his—a warm solid mass.

“Don’t I?” It’s silky, murmured into your hair, and your mouth drops open in surprise.

“Benedict Bridgerton!” You admonish as he starts to lead you expertly in a salsa-type dance. “How dare you keep this from me!”

He spins you away again with a devilish grin, then back into his arms, your bodies swaying together. Something in your tummy flutters as he leads you in a dance, his hold always respectful but the moves undeniably sensual. You can feel the latent power in his body as it flexes around you. It makes your thoughts scatter in directions they shouldn’t—like when you got a preview of his sexual prowess, although for comic effect, in the restaurant weeks ago. The way he growled ‘look at me’ has occasionally popped into your head at the most inopportune moments since, making you squeak self-consciously. Last week, you dropped the gravy at Christmas dinner when it happened.

“TEN SECONDS TO NEW YEARS!!” the DJ yells, cutting into your abstraction and turning down the music.

There is an awkward moment where you stop dancing but stay holding each other as if you are, as everyone around you starts counting down. Your gaze falls from his eyes to his lips unconsciously.

“Do you want to get some air?” he blurts out, and you nod, grateful. It suddenly feels too hot on the dancefloor.

He releases his tight hold and slots your hand into his, leading the way, weaving through the crowd until you are out on the terrace. It’s so cold and crisp that few other people brave it. You stand awkwardly, half facing each other as party poppers go off inside, people yelling, and couples kissing.

His eyes cut to yours as you share a slightly awkward smile, uncertain, even tipsy, about what you should do.

“Happy New Year,” Benedict says softly.

“Happy New Year,” you reply, a flutter in your gut as he moves in for a hug and a friendly kiss.

It’s just a peck on the lips, but your stomach leaps regardless. His lips are warm and soft in the cold night air. You long to linger, grab his clothing and draw him in for more, bow your body into him, and let him plunder from you. The want for much more is electric. However, it’s over in a second, and when you pull apart, something in his expression looks thoughtful, almost puzzled.

Just as you go to say something to cut the tension of the moment, someone very drunk stumbles out of the party and projectile vomits right next to you both, narrowly avoiding your shoes.

“Seems an apt metaphor for the year we’ve just had,” Benedict comments drolly. And just like that, the odd spell between you is broken as you share a laugh and quickly move away.

——

“I’m not sure about this,” Kate wavers as you drag her down the pavement with your arm looped in hers on a cold Thursday evening the following March.

“Ben is a great guy; I really think you’d like him. It’s just dinner; where’s the harm?” you cajole.

This is a plan you and Benedict had hatched over dinner last week. He softly admitted he thought he might be finally ready to start dating again and did you know of anyone single. Your first thought was, of course, Kate, wanting her to find a good man to pull her out of the toxic thing she has with that married man. The idea of your two closest friends potentially finding happiness together gives you such a warm glow. You suggested a double date, a safe way for you to introduce each other to people you know. That’s when he lit up and said he was confident you’d like his older brother Anthony.

So now you are marching towards the restaurant to meet Benedict and his brother.

“I still don’t understand why you are trying to set me up with this guy if you have deemed him not good enough to date yourself,” she grouses.

“Kate, that's not it at all. He’s a fantastic guy. Definitely good enough to date. We are just friends, that’s all,” you insist.

She shoots you a side-eye.

“Listen, I’ll admit, this is going to be his first date since his marriage breakup,” you hold up a silencing hand when you see her go to protest, “but that’s a good thing. He has taken the time to heal and is finally ready to date again. He is a nice guy and available, unlike someone you know,” you conclude pointedly.

She sighs.

“He’s never going to leave his wife, Kate,” you add, knowing where her thoughts have run.

She slumps her shoulders. “You’re right; I know you’re right. Okay…” she concedes.

“Explain to me why you’re trying to set me up with the woman you are in love with,” Anthony drawls as their Uber crawls through Soho traffic.

Benedict splutters. “I’m not in love with her!”

“You talk about her ALL the time,” Anthony says pointedly, looking at him sceptically.

“She’s my best friend; of course I do,” Benedict frowns. “And you just said you wanted to meet someone who isn’t - I quote - so dumb you want to smack yourself. She’s smart, and I think you’d get on really well.”

“Fine,” Anthony capitulates, “but you’re paying for dinner, and if it goes tits up, remember, this was all your idea.”

“Guilty as charged,” Benedict concedes, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

Twenty minutes later, you are sat around a circular table, close to Anthony, opposite Benedict, who sits close to Kate. You wouldn’t deny that Anthony is a handsome man, and you can see the family resemblance, even though his eyes are brown to Benedict’s blue. He’s different in personality, though, no-nonsense, forthright and every inch the CEO he is. Very different to Benedict’s more laid-back temperament that you are so used to. It’s obvious Anthony runs on a schedule, whereas Benedict lives in the moment.

How different they are preoccupies your mind, to the point it overshadows your listening to him as he speaks. Too caught up in your own analysis. The conversation is one-sided as he waxes lyrical about the things he loves - apparently mostly sailing and investments so far - topics you struggle to contribute to.

“Kate,” you pipe up when there is an awkward lull after you have all placed your orders. “Benedict used to live in France, just like you,” you offer as a conversation starter for them.

“Oh, where did you live?” she asks him.

“Paris. You?”

“Grenoble.”

And they sort of both look at you askance, wondering what else you can do to assist. It’s obvious there is not much chemistry there, and they are struggling even to make small talk.

“Anthony,” Benedict leaps in, seeing it is quiet on your side too, “y/n here’s parents used to live in Twickenham, right by your beloved Harlequins,” hoping that will help you.

“Urghhh, Harlequins. Really?” Kate cuts in, unable to school her disgust. You forgot about her somewhat incongruous love for rugby—what started as something about wanting to see thick thighs morphing into a whole pastime for her.

Instantly you see Anthony bristle. “What's wrong with the Harlequins?”

“Umm, I think you mean, what’s right with them, don’t you?” Kate shoots back over the table, tapping a painted nail on the surface. “Your team has been shit this year,” she opines, forthright, tossing her hair.

“What do you know about rugby?” Anthony leans in, his whole demeanour changing, suddenly looking very engaged for the first time this evening.

“More than you ever will, probably,” Kate raises a challenging eyebrow and leans back in her chair, crossing her arms.

Before you know it, they have launched into a heated, complex debate about the sport, gesturing wildly and arguing back and forth. You’ve never seen Kate so animated. And while you don’t know Anthony, anyone could read from his body language how invested he is.

Your eyes drift across the table to Benedict and his to you. Realising what is happening, feeling guilty, the person you have brought for each other is not a good match for either of you. A little shocked at how instant Kate and Anthony’s connection, albeit antagonistic, is.

As the meal is served and the wine bottle content diminishes, conversation flows easier between the four of you than your pairs. But it seems like, at every opportunity, Kate and Anthony find a reason to challenge each other on everything from what should be included in a full English breakfast to the state of politics. As your dinner plates are taken away, they are fighting about Netflix.

“You are saying people should be able to share accounts, ad infinitum? Do you have any idea how much that is abused?” Anthony decries, very much in businessman mode.

“Oh yeah, poor little rich boy Netflix. They are so impoverished they were only able to spend, what, $20 million per episode on the last series of Stranger Things? Positively bankrupt. Pass me a tiny violin,” Kate sneers rolling her eyes.

Benedict's gaze cuts to yours, concerned, but you just shrug. It seems like they are getting pleasure from riling each other up; you see how Kate’s eyes flash, and it's not in annoyance. She is stimulated by it, sparring with a handsome man who can actually keep up with her for once. It’s more than a rare thing; it’s the first time you’ve ever seen it.

So when Anthony’s phone rings and he insists he needs to take it, Kate uses the break in their bickering to head to the loos.

“Bloody hell,” Benedict blows out his cheeks as you are left alone together at the table.

“They either hate or adore each other, I think maybe both,” you opine, taking a gulp of wine.

“I’ve never seen him like this,” he confesses, shaking his head disbelieving.

“It's a long time since I've seen Kate be quite this animated, I’ll admit,” you shrug.

As dessert arrives in their continued absence, you and Benedict chat amiably, shifting your seats closer to sit next to each other. In fact, it's only as you put down the spoons after sharing a creme brûlée that you notice Kate and Anthony have been gone for quite a while now—fifteen minutes or more.

“Where are they?” you frown.

“Ant headed that way when he took his call,” Benedict states, nodding towards a corridor.

“I think that's where the loos are,” you hum, thoughtful.

You exchange looks.

“Do you think they bumped into each other and continued arguing outside? I think there’s an outdoor space back there,” his tone intrigued.

You shrug. “Maybe?”

“I need the gents anyway. Let me go check,” he smiles.

“Okay,” you nod, reaching for your phone to text Kate.

Y/N: Where are you?

You've barely scrolled through a few Insta posts when Benedict is back with what you can only describe as a haunted look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” your question is a reflex to his expression.

“Yeah, uh, they’re not fighting,” he stutters.

“What happened then?”

“Uhhh, they are umm…” you've never seen him look so awkward and embarrassed.

Then the penny drops.

“Fucking hell!”

“Yeah…” his eyebrows shoot up.

“I have to see!” you stand up.

He reaches out and grabs your elbow. “No… you really don't.”

“Are they actually fucking?” your ask is a whisper.

“Pretty much,” he exhales, “I walked away when I saw… movement.”

“Wow,” you utter, then after a few minutes of silence. “Still sort of want to see,” you murmur, and Benedict looks at you with intrigue. “What?” you add, defensive.

“Never took you for a voyeur…” he comments, an element of gravelliness there.

“Oh, come on, our best friends are fucking on some outdoor dining tables. We should at least check they are okay,” you answer in a playful tone; you cant help.

“That's my brother,” he reminds deadpan.

“OK, fine, you stay here,” you stick your tongue out fractionally, feeling his incredulous gaze as you stalk down the corridor, shooting him a wink over your shoulder as you go.

At the far end of the hallway is a glass door, and as you pull up, you survey the outside space; over to the left, there is an outdoor deck filled with outdoor dining tables. The light is low, but there indeed is Kate, perched on a table edge, her shapely, beautiful legs wrapped around Anthony, her skirt pushed up around her hips as they kiss hard. If they aren't doing it, they are doing an excellent impression of it, him rocking against her slowly, everything concealed by the expensive dark wool coat he wears.

Somehow you linger, almost hypnotised by how good they look together. Part of you is so very pleased for your friend, completely unsurprised she would just go for it like this; when she wants something, she grabs it with gusto. Apparently, that includes one Anthony Bridgerton. If you are being honest with yourself, an even more significant part of you is jealous. It’s been a while since you shared a passionate moment like that.

Taking a deep breath, realising there could well be CCTV of you peering at them, you turn around to return to your seat. At the other end of the corridor is Benedict, watching you. He looks mildly troubled, to the point you feel self-conscious as you walk towards him.

“You watched them for a while,” he comments with a slightly uneven tone, a little vein in his neck pulsing.

“They look good together, not going to lie,” you offer with a neural shrug as you pull up next to him, and something makes you look up into his eyes. His pupils are slightly dilated. It's a very beguiling look on him. You don’t seem able to look away.

“Do you often watch other people have sex?” It’s an odd cadence like he’s attempting nonchalance and failing.

“I don’t make a habit of it,” you respond truthfully, keeping your voice low, not only not to be overheard but also to ensure he has to stay close to hear it, enjoying the proximity when he seems so flustered. “I was trying to figure out if they were actually doing it or just something else.”

“Something else?”

“Maybe just hand stuff?” you suggest.

“Yeah…I shouldn’t have asked,” he admits, pulling a face. “I don’t want to think about my brother doing.. that. Or anything really.”

“Let’s get out of here then?” you offer, moving towards the table and picking up your coat from the chair back.

He glances back towards the glass door and then nods. “I already paid. We could,” he comments. “Do you think they’d be okay with it?”

“I doubt they even remember we were here tonight,” you comment dryly.

You and Benedict retire to a pub a few doors down, grabbing a drink and sitting in a quiet corner. Just as you go to take a sip, your phone pings.

Kate: Where did you go?

“Looks like they emerged,” you inform him as your fingers fly over the screen, composing a reply just as his phone pings too.

Y/N: We left. We saw you guys…

Kate: Oh… you dirty little pervs 😉

Y/N: Says the woman fucking on a public dining terrace

Kate: We weren’t fucking!! I gave him a handjob, and he fingered me at the same time.

Kate: I did it to shut him up, tbh. It worked. 😌

Kate: Such an arrogant twat.

Kate: Fuck, he has a nice cock, though.

Kate: Oh God… I really like him. 🫣

You chuckle as you watch your friend unravel in real-time. You glance up and see Benedict is head down in his phone, too, probably texting with Ant.

Kate: Fuck it. I’m going home with him. He just asked.

Kate: I can’t say no to a cock (all senses of the word) like that.

Kate: Ciao Bella xx

Kate: if you don’t hear from me in 3 days, send an SOS. I don’t want a pussy prolapse…

Y/N: Wow, the ✨romance✨

Kate: No joke, I think imma marry this one.

Y/N: 🤣🤣🤣

Kate: Bitch I’m serious. You’ll see…

“They are going home together,” you mutter to Benedict as he puts his phone down.

“So I hear,” he raises his eyebrows with a twisted lip.

“What does it say about us that we thought they would be a good match for you and me? When it seems they were a much better match for each other?” You ponder aloud, almost vulnerable in tone.

“Shut up and drink your wine,” he grumbles.

That is an entirely fair suggestion.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @Mlovesbridgerton @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @jeanfreau

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n #it had to be you fic

213 notes · View notes