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stevie-petey · 6 months

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episode two: the weirdo on maple street

Trying to ease the awkwardness, you hold up a poster and offer it to them, but Steve snatches it from your grasp. “Henderson, didn’t know you were also a little know-it-all. Why don’t you share your review sheet with the rest of us?” He says, casting a teasing look your way. It isn’t until he inspects the piece of paper that he finally notices that it’s a missing poster for a child, not a review sheet. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.” You snatch the poster back from him. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

summary: you use your limited psych knowledge to help a bald girl, you force jonathan to accept $20 and he's later an ass to you, steve doesn't know what a "missing" poster looks like, and it's really hard being a single mother to now four kids.

rating: general, but there's cursing as usual and steve being... well, steve - but hes still season 1 steve so give him some time

warnings: cursing, fem!reader, use of y/n, and there's more angst in this chapter with some fighting between reader and jonathan, so fair warning.

words: 10.1k (the longest thing ive ever written)

before you swing in: i'm almost done with chapter 4, so here's a sweet treat as i cram for exams lmao. some housekeeping: should i do a tag list ? i got a few questions about it, so pls let me know soldiers. also, i feel the need to clarify that i adore nancy but for plot reasons - reader and her don't really get along (but they def will later, trust me). season 1 nancy and steve are just so silly. anyways, i hope y'all enjoy this loooong chapter. the rest definitely aren't as lengthy due to plot, but wow. i amazed myself. carry on !

Your jeans drip onto the Wheeler’s carpet, and you’ve definitely left a wet imprint on the couch cushion beneath you. The other boys are dripping as well, but all their attention is on the girl in front of them.

After finding her in the woods, your motherly instincts kicked in, immediately removing your coat to place on her and gently ushering her to your bike and demanding that the boys go back to Mike’s. Your mom is home, so your house was out of the question, and it’s always been easy sneaking into the Wheeler’s, anyways.

Once you all had made it back, you guided the girl onto the couch and sat next to her. You refuse to let her go too far from you, having no idea where she came from or why, but regardless you know she’s too young for any of it to have been good.

Which leads you to now: wearily watching the boys stare at the girl as if she’s some science experiment, asking her a million questions a second.

Bless them and their little prepubescent minds.

Lucas reaches out to touch her, and before you can nudge him away, Mike slaps at his hand. “Stop it! You’re freaking her out!”

“She’s freaking me out!” Lucas retaliates, which honestly? That’s fair. The girl hasn’t said anything yet, even after your multiple attempts to get her to do so. No matter how much you try, you can’t coax a response out of her.

“I bet she’s deaf.” Your brother offers, suddenly clapping his hands to scare her, making both you and her flinch. “Not deaf…”

You roll your eyes at him. “Guys, she’s probably just really scared right now. We should give her some space,” you look at both Lucas and Dustin, “and time,” now you look at Mike. The three boys deflate a bit.

“She’s probably cold,” Mike says after a moment of silence, and you nod at his suggestion. Seeing your agreement, he walks over to a basket of clothes and takes out some pajamas.

While Mike is away, thunder rumbles and the girl jumps, unconsciously getting closer to you. You wrap an arm around her reassuringly, making note that she doesn’t like loud noises. If anything, she’s showing more and more signs of trauma response, which makes you uneasy. You remember Hopper saying something about Will being in danger. What are the odds that this little girl was running from something as well?

“Here, these are clean.” Mike’s return breaks you from your thoughts, and you take the clothes from him and stand up. You thank him, then offer your hand to the girl. She looks at you uncertainly.

“It’s okay,” you reassure her. “Let’s go get you dressed in some warm clothes. I’m right here, sweetheart.”

“She’s super nice.” Dustin says, trying to help.

Lucas adds, “Yeah, you can trust her.”

“She’s alright.” Is all Mike offers.

You give them all an appreciative smile, even if Mike is being a bit of an ass, and then you feel a small, cold hand wrap around yours. The girl stands up, looking around shyly, and you lead her to the bathroom. When you go to close the door, she stops you.

Mike has followed, seeing the interaction. “You don’t want it closed?”

Her voice is quiet, solemn. “No,”

You and Mike look at each other, and he voices what you’re thinking. “So you can speak.”

He looks excited about this new information, and you shove his head out of the doorway. She needs to get dressed. “We’ll leave the door cracked, okay?”

She nods at you, and you stand guard outside the door. It’s not that you don’t trust the boys, but Mike has only known her for ten minutes and he’s already been nicer to her than you’ve ever seen him with anyone else. The only other person he’s this soft spoken to is Will, so you’re protective of her.

You can hear the boys discussing tonight’s events from the living area while the girl gets dressed. They sound scared, and a part of you can’t blame them. While you’re fairly certain that the girl isn’t dangerous, it’s still a creepy situation. Once again, Hopper’s new theory surrounding Will floats through your mind. This all can’t be some coincidence.

Sighing, you approach the boys and catch a bit of the conversation.

“Our houses become Alcatraz.” You hear Lucas saying, and you figure they’ve finally pieced together that there’s no way any of you can tell anyone about the girl. None of you were supposed to be out tonight. As much as you know you should tell an adult, you also need to be able to help Jonathan with finding Will. If your mom locks the house down, you’re doomed.

“Lucas is right,” the boys turn to you. “We can’t go to anyone about this just yet, but I also don’t think it’s a good idea to hide her. She’s been through something terrible, it’s obvious. Tonight, I say she gets some rest. We can figure out what to do later.”

Mike nods, for once agreeing wholeheartedly with you. “She’ll sleep here tonight-”

Dustin’s eyes widen in horror, “You’re letting a girl-”

You clamp your hand over his mouth, motioning for Mike to continue.

“Thanks, Y/N. In the morning, she sneaks around my house, goes to the front door and rings my doorbell. My mom will answer and know exactly what to do. She’ll send her back to Pennhurst,”

They think she’s from Pennhurst? You think, but don’t verbalize it.

“Or wherever she comes from. We’ll be totally in the clear! And tomorrow night, we go back out, and this time we find Will.”

You gotta hand it to Mike Wheeler, he may be a pain in the ass, but he’s a smart pain in the ass. The plan is pretty sound, so long as he follows through with it. However, it’s him following through with it that leaves you a bit unsure.

He looks at you for approval, and you hesitantly nod. “It’s a pretty good plan, Wheeler. So long as you stick to it.”

Lucas and Dustin nod along with you, there’s an unspoken sense of doubt that Mike will actually be able to turn the girl over to his mom. Then she walks out, dressed now in some of Nancy’s old clothes. She draws into herself when you all turn to her, shy. You walk over and offer your hand again, which she accepts.

“Mike, go find her something to sleep on. Dustin, we gotta go soon before mom notices we’re gone.”

Both boys comply, with Mike searching for a sleeping bag and Dustin packing up his stuff. You crouch down next to the girl, so that you’re face to face, and give her a warm smile. “It was lovely meeting you. My name is Y/N, I hope Mike over there doesn’t give you a hard time tonight.”

Mike flips you off, having heard you. “If he’s annoying,” you lean in close to her now, whispering in her ear. “You have my permission to pinch him.”

The girl giggles, finally relaxing a bit, and you warm with pride. She’ll be okay, she seems like a very resilient girl and you’ll oddly miss her.

The two other boys are waiting for you upstairs. You all wish Mrs. Wheeler a good night and head out. Thankfully the rain has now stopped, so the bike ride home isn’t bad. You stop at Lucas’ turn to make sure he gets home safely before finally arriving at your place. As Dustin begins pedaling into your driveway, you don’t follow.

“I’m going to go see Jonathan, he didn’t answer my calls earlier and I just…”

Dustin waves at you, not even bothering to turn around. “Yeah yeah, go see your boyfriend. If mom asks, you’re asleep.”

“He’s not my boyfriend-”

“Are you seriously going to argue with me after I offered to cover for you?”

Your brother gives you a pointed look, and you know he’s right. “Touche.”

Dustin goes to leave, but you quickly grab at his jacket. “Before I forget, swear to me that you’ll keep me updated if anything weird happens, okay?”

He nods at you, knowing better than to argue, and gives you a mock salute as he heads inside.

The living room light is on when you arrive at the Byers home, despite the late hour, but you aren’t surprised. You knock on the door and wait. When no one comes, you knock again, a bit louder this time. After another few moments, the door swings open.

Jonathan has a finger over his lips in a shushing manner, motioning to Joyce who is passed out on the couch. You nod, letting him know you understand. The two of you go to his room and when he closes the door, you finally get a good look at him. He looks worse than he did earlier, the bags under his eyes have somehow gotten darker. His hair is a mess, his eyes bloodshot.

“You’re soaked.” Jonathan says.

“Yeah,” he doesn’t want to talk about it yet, so you play along. “Got caught in the rain. Are some of my spare clothes still in your bottom drawer?”

He nods at you, going over and grabbing a t-shirt and pajama pants for you. You accept them gratefully and excuse yourself to the bathroom to change. Your bones are cold, the rain seemingly having penetrated the layers of your skin. In the mirror you see that your own eyes are bloodshot; you don’t look much better than Jonathan, really.

When you return Jonathan is sitting on his bed, so you join him. It’s silent between you, all you can hear is his breathing. You stare straight ahead, so does he, and you wait. You’ve only seen Jonathan like this a handful of times, where the stress and anxiety becomes too much for him. He shuts down, draws into himself, and all you can do is wait for him to return to you; he always does.

“Mom got a call tonight.” Jonathan’s voice is hoarse, and he looks frail. You wonder if he ever did end up making the spaghetti you prepared for him.

“Who was it?”

He swallows heavily, taking a moment to respond. “She said it was Will.”

“Will?” You look at him now, searching for any signs on his face, his voice lacks emotion. By the way he stares blankly ahead, as if he’s not really present with you right now, you know that it hadn’t been Will on the other end.

“She started freaking out, going ballistic,” his voice cracks a bit, so you take a chance and reach for his hand. He lets you take it, giving you a squeeze, before continuing. “She was screaming, begging whoever it was to give Will back.”

Jonathan pauses again. You don’t say anything, because no words will help. He’s never been the type for comforting words, anyways. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. “It wasn’t him. Lightning struck and our phone got charred. It wasn’t Will.”

Now it’s your turn to squeeze Jonathan’s hand. He doesn’t deserve any of this. None of the Byers do. Out of the entire town, they’re the family who deserves the most that life can give. Will, too good. Jonathan, too selfless. Joyce, too loving. They’re the best damn people you know.

“I tried calming her down, but she was hysterical. She’s only asleep right now because she worked herself up too much and passed out. I’m worried she-'' Jonathan shakes his head, as if ashamed by his own words. “I’m worried she’s going crazy, Y/N.”

He’s quiet again, but you can tell he’s about to break. His knee is now bouncing up and down and his breathing has become slightly ragged. Everything from today has been building up, it was only a matter of time before he snapped. You’re also worried about Joyce, a part of you skeptical to believe her, but the little girl you found tonight in the rain? Something was definitely weird about Will’s disappearance, but you’re hesitant to tell Jonathan just yet. For all you know, she could’ve simply been a girl who got lost and will be returned to her family tomorrow.

You don’t want to worry Jonathan any more than you need to.

“I should’ve been there for him. I shouldn’t have taken that shift.” He gasps out, and like a dam the tears begin to fall. You’re quick to pull him into a hug and he crumbles into you. His body shakes with violent sobs and he clutches at you as if afraid you’ll leave.

“You can’t blame yourself.” You whisper, stroking a hand through his hair. He cries even harder, the force of it almost enough to knock you over, so you situate yourself so that you’re fully on the bed, laying against his pillows, with Jonathan crying into your chest beside you.

“He’s g-gone.”

“We’ll find him, I promise.” Your own tears threaten to come out, but you force them down. You have to be here for him, he needs you. The only other time Jonathan has so openly cried was when Lonnie left years ago. He’s been holding everything in since then, all those years of looking after his family, taking care of his brother, getting harassed by assholes like Tommy Hagan.

Neither of you say anything else, and you know that Jonathan needs to let it all out. You soothe him as best as you can, running a hand through his hair, stroking his back, reassuring him over and over again that none of this is his fault until your own voice becomes hoarse. You don’t know how long you stay like this, but sometime during the night Jonathan finally falls asleep, and you follow shortly after him.

—

Sunlight streams through Jonathan’s spare bed sheet that he’s pinned over his window, serving as a makeshift curtain, waking you up. You stretch, careful not to wake the boy beside you, and crawl out of the bed. You’re antsy, already knowing that today will be another long day. After grabbing some clothes from your designated drawer and getting dressed, you head into the kitchen and start making a quick breakfast. Just as you’re finishing up, Jonathan comes out of his room, dressed and ready for the day.

Neither of you say anything about the night prior, instead silently working around each other in the kitchen with years of practiced ease. He hands you the salt shaker right when you need it, you grab the pieces of toast that he popped into the toaster, the two of you never once get in each other’s way. You get deja vu, remembering all the times you’ve slept over with Dustin, you and Jonathan making the boys breakfast while they slept in.

The only indication that last night really happened is a forehead kiss from Jonathan, his lips soft against your head. Out of the two of you, you’re definitely the touchy one, so it’s always a nice surprise when he initiates the touch, and his forehead kisses were a welcome rarity.

When the plates have been made, Joyce gets up from the couch and stumbles over to the table. You quickly help her sit down, and for the first time since Will’s disappearance you’re able to really look at her. She looks like Jonathan, only worse. The bags under her eyes are darker, her hair is more matted, and you believe she’s still wearing the same shirt you saw her in the night that Will went missing.

“All right, mom. Breakfast is ready.” Jonathan tries to place her plate on the table, but Joyce stops him, worried about the poster of Will.

Jonathan gives you a look and you run over to the table, grabbing the poster so that he can set the plate down.

Joyce gives you a tired smile, “Thank you, Y/N, but I can’t eat.”

“I just need you to eat, mom.”

“Jonathan’s right, Mrs. Byers. You need to eat, we gotta keep your strength up.” You feel like you’re talking to a child, but in a way, you suppose you are.

The woman lights a cigarette instead, and faintly you wonder how many she’s had within the last 48 hours; you’ll need to wash your clothes when you get home. She begins to ask Jonathan to go to Xerox to make as many copies of Will’s poster as possible. You sit down in front of her, silently eating, knowing there’s no place for you in this conversation.

It’s not that the Byers are ashamed that they have little money, but you know it’s rude to listen in. They make do with what they have, and Jonathan has never felt embarrassed with you knowing it.

“I don’t want you to go alone,” Joyce says, causing you to speak up.

“I’ll go with him and help hang them up, it’s no problem.”

Jonathan turns to you. “You have that chem test, remember? I’m not letting you miss that.”

“Shit…” you bury your face into your hands. You completely forgot about that after finding the little girl last night and dealing with Jonathan. You’ve heard about how impossible the chem exams were, and science has never been your best subject. That was Dustin’s thing, your thing was more humanities.

“You’re the smartest person I know, you’ll ace the exam,” Jonathan reassures you before turning to his mom. “And I’ll handle the posters, it’s okay.”

Joyce has been lost in thought during your conversation with her son, only beginning to speak again when she’s asked how many copies will be efficient. Once she starts speaking again, it’s almost like she’s physically unable to stop. She begins to ramble, finally exposing the crumbling woman that you’ve only heard about, now understanding Jonathan’s fears for her.

“Mom-”

“If we… ten cents-”

“Mom!” Jonathan raises his voice a bit, now grabbing at his mother’s hand. “You can’t get like this, okay?”

The look on Joyce’s face kills you. She looks so lost, ashamed of her behavior, and you cast your head down; this is a private matter. Joyce profusely apologizes to him and all Jonathan can do is gently reassure her that it’s okay. All of this is okay.

Their tender moment is interrupted by knocking on the front door, revealing Hopper on the other side. His presence makes you uneasy, so you stay in the kitchen and begin to clean up with Jonathan while Joyce attacks him with questions.

“A little bit of trust here, alright? We’ve been searching all night.” You hear the cop say. Your hand clenches the sponge, rubbing a bit harder at the plate you’re cleaning. If they’ve been searching all night, why are they here now?

“Went all the way to Cartersville.” Ever since Will disappeared, you’ve been building a wall of hope within you that he’ll be found safe and sound. However, with every passing day, with every new situation that occurs, you can feel a piece of the wall collapse. You can feel it now; the search party went all the way to Cartersville.

“And?” Joyce asks.

“Nothing.” The cry that Joyce lets out causes you to drop the plate you’ve been cleaning, shattering on the floor. You curse, immediately bending down to pick up the pieces. Luckily it didn’t shatter into a million bits, but you still feel horrible for breaking one of their dishes.

Jonathan bends down as well to help, and the commotion catches Hopper’s attention. He sees you scrambling to clean up the mess and sighs with annoyance. “Does she live here or something?”

You and Jonathan look at each other, a slight smile on your faces, and only respond to Hopper with a synchronized shrug. You basically do live at the Byers’ at this point, you have been for years now. It was the same for Jonathan: if you weren’t at his house, he was at yours.

Joyce wipes some of her tears away. “Y/N is family, she’s here to help.”

Hopper ignores this, instead bringing up the phone call from the night before. Joyce leads him over to the phone, and you join them once you’ve collected the remaining pieces of broken glass. When you see the phone, you can’t help but gasp. Jonathan’s words from last night are accurate, the phone is charred.

“Storm barbecued this pretty good.” Hopper says.

Joyce waves her arms out, disbelieving. “The storm? You’re saying that that’s not… weird?”

“No, it’s weird.” Hopper begins, but you cut him off.

“It’s really weird.”

He glares at you. You mumble a quick sorry and back away a bit while Jonathan asks if the call can be traced. Hopper focuses back on the situation at hand, informing him that it isn’t possible and then questions if Joyce even heard Will in the first place. The question makes you cringe, knowing it’ll only make Joyce more agitated and hurt.

“Flo said you just heard some breathing.”

It’s the way he phrases the question, the way he emphasizes the word “just”, that bothers you. This woman has just lost her kid, what kind of mother wouldn’t know her own child’s breathing?

“Even if it was ‘just’ some breathing, I’d know it was my brother. Will is her son, she’d know better than anyone.” You find yourself saying. The words weren’t meant to leave your mouth, but the appreciative look Joyce casts your way outweighs the fear from Hopper’s glare.

“It was him. It was Will, and he was scared. Then something-”

“It was probably just a prank call,” Hopper tries to reason with her, causing you to roll your eyes at him. You respect the guy, you do, but could he at least attempt to listen to Joyce?

You excuse yourself before you say anything else, heading back into the kitchen to collect the two posters you and Jonathan made. While the others talk, you grab his things and pack his bag for him. You know he’ll probably skip school today to get the copies done in time, maybe keep an eye on his mom, so you make a mental note to inform him later that you’ll help with putting the fliers up the second you’re done with the exam. He needs someone there for him.

When you’ve grabbed the last of Jonathan’s things, Lonnie’s name is mentioned. You freeze, standing right outside the hall from them, only a wall between you. If Lonnie is somehow involved in this, you’ll kill him yourself. He was always cruel to Will, even when you were around to witness it. You hate him more than anything in this damn world.

“It’s been long enough, I’m having him checked out.” Hopper declares, storming out of the house.

You count to three in your head, and the second you get to three, Jonathan is following after Hopper. You knew he would, hating his father the most out of everyone who has had the displeasure of meeting him. You follow behind him, heading outside to talk to the Chief.

“Hey, Hopper. Let me go.”

Hopper takes a drag from his cigarette, facing the two of you. “I’m sorry?”

“To Lonnie’s,” Jonathan says, looking at you for backup.

You do your best to try. “If Will’s there, that means he probably ran away. Cops will scare the poor boy, he’ll think he’s in trouble.”

“And he’ll hide. He’s good at hiding.” Jonathan finishes for you.

Hopper stares at you both, inhaling more smoke from his cigarette and blowing it in your direction with a curious look in his eyes. “You two are sickening to be near, you know that?”

You and Jonathan share an annoyed look. A kid is missing, and you still have to clarify that you aren’t together? “It’s not like that,” Jonathan says.

“Sure, you know cops are good at detecting lies,” Hopper approaches him now, grabbing his shoulders. For a brief second you’re afraid he’ll hurt him. “And we’re also good at finding, okay? Stay here with your mom. She needs you.”

Hopper punches at Jonathan’s shoulder before facing you. “And you,” you brace for whatever he’s about to say, knowing you probably aren’t his favorite person at the moment. He points at Jonathan, “He needs you.”

His words hang in the air several minutes after he’s gone. You glance at Jonathan, but he doesn’t meet your eye and instead he goes back inside. You sigh, following after him because it’s what you do. Hopper’s right, he needs you.

Jonathan’s in the living room, speaking softly to his mom when you enter. You don’t disturb them but rather snatch Jonathan’s keys from the counter and wait for him by the door. Like Joyce said, Xerox opens in about thirty minutes and you have a chem exam to take. If you leave now, you’ll be able to make the copies with him and be back in time before school.

The ride to Xerox is tense, you know Jonathan is upset that he’s been sidelined by Hopper. You also know that he’s torn between wanting to help his mom and staying out of his house as much as possible. If it weren’t for your god damn chem test you’d offer to skip and hide out at your place, but you can’t. Jonathan wouldn’t let you risk your future for him (even though you would, in a heartbeat, a million times over).

The man at Xerox gives Jonathan a look of pity, clearly recognizing Will’s picture on the poster. It’s your favorite photo of him, smiling with all his teeth and happy as can be. From what you’ve heard, the whole town has been conducting search parties for him. Jonathan ignores the look and asks for the 200 copies to be made.

It’s just you and him in the store as you wait for the prints to be done. The guy said it’d be about a ten minute wait so you wander around the store. Jonathan clearly is in a no talking mood, so you occupy yourself with whatever you find. You wish you’d brought your backpack to Jonathan’s last night so you could at least study a bit while waiting, but you didn’t. It’d be a miracle if you pass this exam.

Jonathan wanders around as well, so you give a quick look around and find the employee. He’s standing over the printer when you approach. “I’d like to pay for the copies, please.”

“You can pay after they’re done-”

“No, I can’t let him see,” you point over to Jonathan, who is now looking at some stationary. “Please, just let me pay now so he can yell at me later.”

The guy gives you a shrug, clearly not getting paid enough to care. “Okay, it’ll be $20. Just leave the money on the counter over there, the prints should be done soon.”

You nod and do as you’re told, leaving the $20 bill on the counter while Jonathan isn’t looking. He can kill you later, right now you want to make up for not being able to help with hanging them up. There’s literally hundreds to get through, he can’t do that all alone.

When the posters are done and Jonathan collects them, you wish the worker a good day and then wrap your arms around him and use all your strength to drag your friend into the car. He doesn't fight back at first, too confused by your actions, and you’re almost out the door before he sees the man pocket the money and wave at you. The dots connect in his head and Jonathan begins to fight against you.

“Y/N, let me pay-”

“Nope. Not happening!”

“We both know I’m stronger-”

“Debatable, honestly, seeing as how we’re almost to your car.”

“Let go!” He tugs harshly as his arm, which you’ve got a secure hold on, causing you to stumble a bit.

You plant your feet more firmly against the ground and use all your weight to pull the boy forward. You’re a few feet away from the car, just one more solid pull should do the trick. “Stop fighting this, Byers. I’ve already paid-”

“Which you shouldn’t have!”

“Keep fighting and drop all the posters, I dare you.”

Jonathan looks down at the posters in his spare hand, realizing that you’re right. If he doesn’t give in soon, they’ll topple over. He lets out an agitated groan, throwing his head back, and then marches over to the car to unlock it and fling himself into the driver’s seat. “Just get in.”

You do a small victory dance and hop in the car.

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

He hesitates only for a moment. “God, I hate that I do.”

You smile, buckling your seatbelt. Jonathan pulls out of the parking lot and begins the drive to school. He’s less tense this time, at least. The small little wrestling match between the two of you seemingly did some good, then.

When you pull up to school, you once again apologize to Jonathan for being unable to help. He waves you off, understanding.

“It’s okay, I promise. I can’t have you failing out of high school because of me.”

You roll your eyes. “One test won’t make me become a high school dropout, Jonathan.”

He ruffles your hair, which you slap him for. “You can join me after, okay? Good luck, bug.”

“Fine, but I’m taking some posters with me so I can hang up on my way to my locker.”

“Deal.”

You run to your locker, flinging it open and letting out a sigh of relief when you spot your chem cards. Honestly, you really should’ve prepared better for your little sleepover at the Byers. You glance at the watch on your wrist, noting that you have roughly fifteen minutes to memorize all the elements in the periodic table as well as some chemistry definitions.

Just peachy.

You tie your hair up so you can focus better and grab the note cards. If you review the cards as you walk to class, you can save at least three minutes of studying time. You tuck the few remaining posters of Will under your arm and begin to head to your class, getting absorbed in all the elements and words. As you’re skimming a card about protein being K, you run into Nancy and Barb, who also seem to have the same idea as you.

“Oh, hey Y/N.” Nancy greets you, Barb waving to you as well.

They’re being nice, so you try to make conversation. “Studying for Kaminsky’s test?”

They nod at you and Nancy sighs, “Yeah, his exams are the worst.”

You laugh a bit, for once on the same page as her. “I know. I spent last night at Jonathan’s, I completely forgot about the test until this morning. I’m screwed.”

Barb raises her eyebrows at you while Nancy suddenly looks sad. “Oh, I’m sorry about Will. I know you and him are close.”

“Yeah, it must be hard taking care of Jonathan right now.” Barb voices.

You give them both an awkward smile. “Thanks, I guess? It’s just, there’s still hope, so…”

The three of you stand there as your voice trails off. It’s painfully awkward. While you’ve known Nancy since you were 12, and at some point you even called her a close friend of yours, the second you entered high school she became distant. You never blamed her for it, people simply grow up and grow apart. Now you only ever interact with her if it concerns the boys.

Trying to ease the awkwardness, you hold up a poster and offer it to them, but Steve snatches it from your grasp.

“Henderson, didn’t know you were also a little know-it-all. Why don’t you share your cheat sheet with the rest of us?” He says, casting a teasing look your way. It isn’t until he inspects the piece of paper that he finally notices that it’s a missing poster for a child, not a review sheet. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.”

You snatch the poster back from him. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

His friends laugh, but Steve has a bit of heart to look guilty, so you count that as something. His shame doesn’t last long though and the goofy and sweet boy who made sure you were okay after almost hitting you with his car is gone.

Steve plays off the situation as if it were nothing. “Let me make it up to you, Henderson. I know you’re probably stressed out of your mind dealing with boyfriend troubles because of Bill-”

“His name is Will,” you grit out, remembering now why you dislike Steve so much. Everything was about impressing his friends, and while you can sympathize with him, it doesn’t give him an excuse to be an asshole.

“Right, Will. Anyways, I was just about to inform Nance over here that my dad has left town on a conference and my mom’s gone with him, ‘cause, ya know, she doesn’t trust him.”

“Good call,” Tommy says, and you glare at him.

Steve carries on. “So, are you guys in?”

“In for what?” Nancy asks.

“No parents, a big house?” Carol says, as if Nancy is a giant idiot.

You feel bad for her being treated so poorly by her boyfriend’s friends, so you lean in and whisper, “A party, Nancy.” Then you look at Steve. “And no, I’ll pass.”

Steve pouts. “Can’t leave loverboy alone for a couple hours?”

You scoff, shoving the poster against his chest, using more force than probably necessary, but the satisfying grunt he lets out pleases you. “If I didn’t know you I’d say you sound jealous. Unfortunately, I do know you, and that’s exactly why I’m not interested.”

“Meow,” says Carol as she and Tommy laugh.

You ignore her and push past the group to get to class. You’ve wasted enough time, you have to study. Steve lets you, hurt by your words, but tries to play it off, instead focusing his attention on Jonathan up ahead hanging up some posters. You both see him at the same time and as you start to approach him, you hear Steve and his group mock him.

“God, that’s depressing.” Steve says, and you’ve never wanted to hit a man more than you do right now.

You glance at Nancy, trying to convey your disappointment in her. She’s a nice girl, she shouldn’t be with an idiot like Harrington. Who the hell makes fun of a guy with a missing brother? Nancy doesn’t meet your eye, which pleases you. She should feel guilty.

As you near Jonathan, Nancy calls after you to wait up. You listen, mostly because you’re surprised she even followed, and together you walk up to him. “Hey, bee. I thought you’d be long gone by now.”

Jonathan looks up at your voice, surprised when he sees Nancy next to you. He gives you a look that you conclude is a what is she doing here? look and you can only shrug as if to say I have no clue how I ended up in this situation.

Nancy doesn’t see this exchange. “Hey,”

“Hey,” Jonathan responds, still confused.

Nancy looks at you uncertainly, but you refuse to leave. Screw your exam, if she even considers voicing her boyfriend’s opinions to Jonathan then you’ll personally see that she fails alongside you. “I just… I wanted to say, you know… I’m sorry, about everything.”

Oh, she’s being nice. You’re still unimpressed, but Jonathan motions to you to stop staring her down, so you reluctantly listen.

“Everyone’s thinking about you.”

You all turn towards Steve and his group, who are clearly listening in, and you snort at her words. “Right, obviously.”

“Y/N.” Jonathan warns.

“Sorry.”

“It sucks.” Nancy continues, and you have to give her some credit. You’re being a blatant bitch, but she’s still trying. You feel a bit bad now, which honestly makes you dislike her a bit more. Damn morals. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, he’s a smart kid.”

The bell rings, ending Nancy’s little monologue. “I have to go, chemistry test. Y/N, want to walk together?”

She really makes it impossible to be a bitch to her. “Sure, just give me a second.”

You lean close to Jonathan and lower your voice. “Good luck with your dad, bee.”

“How did you know I’d go-”

“Because of course you would. Now go, give him hell for me, will ya?”

Jonathan nods, relieved you aren’t pushing the topic. You know that Lonnie is a sore topic for him, for the entire Byers family, really. You only knew Lonnie for a year or so before Joyce left him, but you’ll never forget his spiteful words and the bruises that Jonathan tried to hide from you. He needs to do this alone, father and son.

You see Nancy watching, and just to spite her you kiss Jonathan’s cheek, relishing in the fact that she looks away, and you wish him luck once again before following her to class.

The test isn’t as bad as you’d feared, and the rest of the day goes by with relative ease. You don’t see much of Steve and his group and you’re thankful for that. Nancy also keeps her distance, no longer attempting to be all buddy buddy with you. A part of you feels bad about that, because honestly the thought of someone thinking you hate them makes you feel physically ill, but as long as Nancy is with someone like Steve, there’s not much you can do about that.

After school you stop by all of Jonathan’s classes and collect the work he’s missed over the last few days; he has enough to worry about, so you figured you could help do some assignments for him. It’s nothing unusual, truth to be told. There was a time you were out for two weeks straight due to the flu one year and Jonathan did every one of your assignments, so it’s about time you returned the favor.

Once you have what you need, you hang up the remaining flyers in your bag and begin your journey to work. You’ve used up all of your sick days helping the Byers, and while Mrs. Waters has insisted on letting you have more time off, you figured the distraction would be good for you. Jonathan will want some space after confronting his dad, and as much as you hated Lonnie, something told you he had nothing to do with Will.

Just when your shift is almost done, your coworker, this young kid named Alex who you’re honestly surprised can legally work, informs you that your mom is on the phone and wants to speak with you. You stack the remaining books in your hands and thank him, walking over to pick up the call.

“Hey, mom. Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, sweetie! I was just calling to tell ya that Dusty is at the Wheeler’s tonight for dinner, so my plan for ribs won’t work without him. I was wondering if darling Johnny could feed you tonight? I know the two of you have that little sneaky food game.”

Your posture, once slumped over and uninterested, now straightens out. Why the hell is Dustin having dinner at the Wheeler’s? They never do that. “Uh, sure mom that won’t be an issue.”

Your mom lets out a sigh of relief. “Bless that Jonathan! I’ve always liked him…”

Your mom may be the biggest Jonathan supporter you’ve ever met. “Yeah, he’s your favorite. I know,” you shift a bit to catch Alex’s attention, mouthing to him that you need to leave work early. “Hey, did Dustin by chance say how long he’ll be at the Wheeler’s? I can swing by and pick him up after my shift.”

“Oh, I think he’s staying the night there. He mentioned something about Mike not finishing his part of their little science project?”

They’re calling the little girl a science project now? Boys are so typical. “Oh, I see. Well, I gotta get back to work, mom. I’ll be home late tonight.”

Your mom wishes you goodbye and warns you not to be out too late. You hum, already trying to figure out the quickest route to the Wheeler’s house. You can’t say you’re surprised that Mike didn’t follow the plan, but you also can’t say you were prepared for this either.

Alex comes back with your boss and you quickly make up a lie about not feeling well. Mrs. Waters gives you a pitying look and tells you to go. You’re incredibly grateful for her, she’s like a grandmother to you and has always been so kind.

You quickly bike to Mike’s house, going over a grand speech in your head for the boys. Logistically speaking, you’re not sure if they can even harbor the little girl in his basement. Would it be kidnapping? Could kids even kidnap other kids? You aren’t sure and you definitely aren’t willing to find out.

You arrive at the house just as Nancy and Barb are pulling out of the driveway, presumably to Steve’s grand house party. They wave at you awkwardly and you don’t have it in you to wave back. You park your bike next to their doorstep and knock on the door.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Mrs. Wheeler asks after opening the door.

“Oh, I was just wondering if I could hang out with the boys tonight? Jonathan’s busy and I promised Dustin I’d help with their campaign.”

Mrs. Wheeler cocks her head at you. “But I thought there was a special assembly at the school for Will? Nancy and Barb just left for it.”

You feel your blood boil a bit. There was no assembly for Will at your school, and it was really damn low of Nancy to use his disappearance as a cover story for her stupid party. She’s known Will since he was practically a baby. You have no idea how someone could be so unaffected by a missing child, let alone one who has been at your house every damn weekend for years now.

“Oh, that!” You force yourself to remain calm; there isn’t time to snitch on Nancy, Mrs. Wheeler would only have more questions for you. “Yeah, I’m, uh, skipping it. Jonathan doesn’t want to go, so after he’s back from his errands I’m heading over to his place to, you know, comfort him?”

The woman stares at you for a second, trying to determine if there are any lies to your words. You’ve never been the best liar, but being the oldest Henderson child has unfortunately prepared you for being quick on your feet when needed.

“Well, come on then. They boys just went downstairs, and if you can please remind them to bring the plate of food back up here I’d really appreciate it.”

You thank Mrs. Wheeler and let yourself in. Her words have all but solidified your suspicions: Mike kept the girl.

When you descend the basement steps, it’s almost comical how the kids scramble to hide the girl like little cockroaches. They run around and Dustin screams something about covering her before the poor girl is being manhandled into a sheet as Mike screams at Lucas and Dustin to calm down.

“Guys! It’s just me! Jesus!” You shout, shoving past Mike to rush over to the girl and free her from the sheets. She looks more frightened than usual, but at least she’s alive.

“God, why am I always the one you push?”

You shush Mike, smoothing back the girl’s hair and offering her a reassuring smile. “Remember me, sweetheart?”

The girl nods and softly says, “Y/N.”

“Very good. I’m going to scream at my brother real quick, so why don’t you cover your ears for me so you don’t get too frightened?”

“Wait, what-”

The minute her ears are covered, you turn to Dustin and begin screaming. “Are you brain dead and not understand the words ‘tell me if anything weird happens’ or do you simply lack the appropriate empathy needed for a concerned sister?”

Dustin ducks his head in shame. “Y/N, look-”

“No! I’m all for helping you guys with your adventures and whatever, but Will went missing and then she appears and Mike,” you turn to him and he hides behind a frightened Lucas. “You said you’d stick to your plan. Now tell me, did you?”

Mike shakes his head, his eyes wide. Dustin looks no better as he cowers behind the others. Lucas simply shrugs, knowing that this would happen. You never, ever, yell at the boys; the few times you have in the past, all hell had broken loose.

“Y/N-”

“Zip it, Henderson. I’m so pissed off at you right now and if you want to make it to thirteen I suggest you keep quiet.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Now, why don’t you guys catch me up on what you’ve so sweetly kept hidden from me.” It’s worded as a question, but the boys know better than to deny you.

You sit on the ground so that you’re next to the girl and then motion for the three boys in front of you to start speaking. They look at Mike, giving him a nudge, and he hesitantly steps forward to begin speaking. “Her name is El.”

The girl, El, looks up at you and smiles. You return the smile and knock your shoulder against hers in a playful manner. “Nice to meet you, can I ask what El is short for?”

“Eleven,” she says, and you want to question the name further but the look on Mike’s face stops you. Now is not the time, you guess.

“El, she’s… different.” Mike continues, looking around nervously. He’s acting as if someone could break in any second and snipe you guys, and a part of you doesn’t doubt it can happen. “She has these powers, like, mind control powers.”

You snort, unable to stop yourself. El looks at you, looking unoffended, seemingly expecting this reaction. However, Mike groans at you. “Y/N, this is serious. She-she knows about Will.”

At this, your smile fades and you feel an overwhelming sense of hope take over you. You find your arms wrapping around El before you can control yourself and you give her a tight hug. She stiffens in your arms and you immediately pull away. “I’m sorry, I just… sorry.”

She laughs a bit, softly saying that it’s okay.

“Do you really know Will? Where he is?” You ask, almost too scared to say the words out loud. If she’s telling the truth… you shake your head in an attempt to dispel any false hope. You don’t know this girl, she could be lying.

Before El can say anything else, Mike speaks for her. “She does, but there’s bad men out there who want to hurt her. I think they’re after Will, too.”

You freeze. “Bad men?”

“Yes, this is why we didn’t want to tell you!”

“I wanted to tell her,” Lucas says, which causes Mike to glare at him.

You wave your arms at the two boys, breaking up their fight. “Mike, what do you mean by bad men? Honey,” you look at El, “did someone hurt you? Are you in danger? Should I call the police?”

“No!” All three boys shout at once.

You look at them, at the genuine fear in their eyes, and sigh, “Okay, if you can give me a good reason not to call the cops, I won’t.”

“Did you not hear the part about El having powers?” Dustin asks.

“Gee, Dustin. You’re right! It’s like her having powers is totally believable and reassuring to the situation at hand!”

“I can show you,” El speaks up.

You all face her now. “You can?”

She nods at you, getting up and grabbing your backpack that you threw on the ground when you walked in. She rustles through it while you and the boys look at one another. After a few seconds, El grabs one of your comic books and places it on the table. She looks at you and tilts her head, indicating for you to sit down next to her; you do as you’re told.

El straightens out your comic and then closes her eyes, going completely still. The air around you shifts and you can practically feel the static electricity encasing you; the hair on your arms stand up. The pages of the comic begin to flick up, fluttering as if someone is thumbing through them in rapid succession. You watch as the Spidey panels flash before your eyes, the pages flying faster and faster until it becomes almost frightening to be near. Then, once it gets to its last page, the comic flies up into the air and hovers for a few seconds, right in front of your face.

“Holy shit,” you breathe out, your eyes wide.

Just as quickly as it began, the comic drops back onto the table. You look up at El and see that her nose is now bleeding, which rips you back to reality. The chair scrapes against the ground as you get up to help her, dabbing at the blood with a tissue that had been laying on the table.

“Do you believe us now?” Mike asks, a smug look on his face.

You gently wipe away the remaining blood from El’s face, looking her in the eye and directing your words to her. “I’m listening, sweetheart. What can you do to help us find Will?”

El smiles, pleased to have earned your trust, and you get the feeling that this little girl is the most powerful thing in all of Hawkins, maybe even the world. At her request, Mike places his DnD board on the table and arranges the pieces for El to use. She sits down and closes her eyes once more.

Lucas gives you a doubtful look. “What’s the weirdo doing?”

You flick his head, not enjoying the name calling. Honestly, you thought you raised these boys better than that.

El seems to accomplish whatever she was doing and picks up the wizard piece, murmuring, “Will.”

You feel your heart stop. Will always insisted on being the wizard whenever they played the game. He was Will the Wise, forever and always. El couldn’t have simply guessed that, and you know it’s her-

“Superpowers,” Dustin finishes your thought for you. The two of you exchange a glance and you notice the slight glee in his eyes. Under different circumstances, you’d also find this all pretty cool.

Mike sits next to El and begins to ask some questions about where she last saw Will. She gives him a look that you can’t quite decipher before swiping her arm across the table and spilling the pieces onto the floor. She then flips the board over, having it now face upside down, and places Will’s piece back down.

You knit your brows together, trying to follow along. El’s movements are methodical and carefully planned, being unable to find the right words due to her poor speech, and you try to piece together the information you’ve been given.

“I don’t understand,” Mike says, being extra gentle with El. You’ve never seen him so soft spoken before and you’re grateful at least one of the boys doesn’t view her as some monster. Which reminds you that you need to have a conversation with Dustin about respecting women, but for now you’ll hold off.

“Hiding.” says El.

He’s good at hiding, Jonathan’s words echo in your head.

“Will is hiding?”

El nods, now looking more nervous. You can tell that Mike is getting closer to information that she doesn’t want him near, which finally causes you to ask the question that’s been heavily on your mind. “From the bad men?”

Now El gives a slight shake of the head, and Mike presses on. “Then from who?”

Without saying anything, El places a second piece onto the board right in front of Will’s. It’s a piece you’re unfamiliar with, with two snake-like heads that loom over the small wizard piece. Whatever it is, you know it isn’t good judging the way Mike, Dustin, and Lucas look at each other in fear.

You turn to Dustin and whisper, “What’s that piece?”

Your brother puts his hands behind his head and sighs deeply, a new resigned look on his face. He looks as if he’s just aged thirty years, which you find a bit dramatic. “It’s the Demogorgon.”

“The Demo-what?” The name sounds familiar, but you can’t remember anything about it.

Mike looks at you and for once his voice holds no annoyance when he says, “There’s a lot we still have to catch you up on.”

–

Your head is spinning as you bike to Jonathan’s with all the new information you’ve just received. Demogorgons, magical vortexes, kids with damn superpowers. It’s all a lot for you to take in, and while you fully believe that El is something entirely different from a normal little girl, how can you be sure that it’s connected to Will? While his disappearance still confuses you, it’s illogical to jump to supernatural conclusions.

Dustin had begged you to let him spend the night at Mikes in order to keep talking to El, and you only agreed because you figured you’d be at Jonathan’s again tonight anyways. He’s been MIA all day and you’re worried as usual, but you made him and Mike swear to you that they’d stay put in the house. At least this way they’re in one place, so if they screw around they’ll be easier to find.

When you arrive at the Byers home you notice that Jonathan’s car isn’t in the driveway, which only confuses you further. Where the hell is he? You gave him all day to deal with Lonnie and cool off, trusting that he wouldn’t do anything stupid for twelve hours, and yet…

You fear he’s done something stupid.

You don’t have time to think too much about Jonathan’s absence because a frantic Joyce runs out the door screaming. She runs straight past you and into her car, and the house begins to light up like a christmas tree. You can hear The Clash’s Should I Stay or Should I Go, a song that Will once had on repeat for three weeks straight, and you can feel the same static electricity in the air that you felt when El used her powers in front of you.

Joyce suddenly gets out of the car and spots you, pointing towards her house. “You see that too?”

You swallow. “Yeah,”

She nods, as if your confirmation is all she needs to determine her sanity, and then marches inside. You stand in the yard, motionless. You’re terrified, and after learning about El tonight, you don’t have it in you to discover any other supernatural beings in Hawkins at the moment. Sighing, you follow after the woman because Jonathan isn’t home and someone needs to talk her down from whatever panic attack the flashing lights have inevitably caused.

“Mrs. Byers-”

“Y/N, you can’t tell me there isn’t something,” Joyce waves her hands in front of her face, almost grasping at the air, “weird about all of this. That was Will’s song, the lights were flashing in Will’s room, something came out of Will’s wall-”

“Something came out of his wall?”

“Yes! I’m not… I promise I’m not crazy, okay? You saw it, please tell me you saw it.”

You bite your lip, now thinking about El. You swore to Mike you wouldn’t tell anyone about her, and honestly you’re not sure that you should tell Joyce about her right now. You’re still unsure if El is being honest with you, and you can’t just give the woman false hope for her son. It’d kill you if you were wrong about El. But seeing the lights, hearing the music, the thing in the wall… There’s something that she’s not telling you.

“Mrs. Byers… I’m not quite sure what I saw, but we just had a bad storm and it could be faulty wiring.”

Joyce slumps her shoulders, frustrated that you aren’t conspiring with her. You just… you can’t. Not yet. Not before you figure out what the hell El is doing in Hawkins. You refuse to worsen Joyce’s already chronic anxiety and paranoia; Jonathan would never forgive you if you fed into her delusions, but it kills you to lie to her.

“Look, I do think that something is weird about this entire situation, “ Joyce’s face lights up, but you’re quick to add, “however, there’s no proof. You, I mean-Mrs. Byers, you’ve seen things in the past. You’re stressed, and anxious, and all the other synonyms.”

The woman lets a few tears drop from her eyes, now embarrassed. “Maybe you’re right. I-I’m sorry, honey. I just-”

You grab her hand. “I know,”

Her smile is brittle, a ghost of the once beautiful smile she’d give you, and your heart breaks for her.

After your conversation, Joyce excuses herself to her room. She looks even more exhausted than before, so you leave her alone and hole yourself up in Jonthan’s room.

You glance at your watch and note the late hour; you’re starting to worry now. Jonathan didn’t mention anything besides Lonnie and the posters, so you don’t know what else he could be doing so late. He wouldn’t go searching for Will without you.

You wake up to Jonathan returning an hour or so later, apparently having fallen asleep while waiting for him.

“Y/N?” His voice is gruff and surprised.

You groan and rub your eyes. “Turn the light off, bee.”

He doesn’t. “What are you doing here?”

The tone of his voice wakes you up a bit, making you sit up and look at him more clearly. His shoulders are tense, his eyes are hiding something, and his overall demeanor is hard to read. “I had something to tell you, but is everything okay?”

“You couldn't have waited until tomorrow? Y/N, this is my house, just… just get out.”

“I’m sorry?” You’re confused by his behavior, now starting to become a bit defensive and hurt by his dismissal.

“You can’t just let yourself in whenever you please.” Jonathan puts his camera on his desk, still refusing to meet your eyes.

“Jonathan, we literally have always let ourselves into each other’s houses whenever we please.”

He rolls his eyes at you and rips off his jacket, throwing it at you. “Get out!”

You catch the jacket before it hits you in the face. “What the hell, Jonathan!”

“Listen, I get that you think you’re a part of the family, but you’re not. You’ve been here for days now, it’s getting old.”

His words cut through you and leave vicious wounds against your skin. He doesn’t mean that, he can’t mean that. You and him were family. He’s never, ever insinuated anything less. He wouldn’t dare. Your Jonathan would never act like this to you, and the only time he’s ever been this cruel to you was when he accidentally dropped Lonnie’s last beer in the fridge and was too embarrassed and ashamed to ask for help; he’d shown up with bruises later that night.

Then it hits you. He did something, something that makes him feel guilty; he keeps glancing at his camera. You soften your voice, “Bee, what did you do?”

He whips around, now yelling. “Nothing! Just get the hell out of my house! It’s getting pathetic!”

You swallow back the angry tears that build in your throat. Fine. Whatever. Let him be a raging bitch after everything you’ve done for him these last few days.

“Fine, I will.” Grabbing your backpack you snatch the assignments you were supposed to give Jonathan and slam them against his chest. “Here’s all your fucking assignments, by the way.”

He seems to come back to himself, blinking away the anger and shame. “Bug…”

“You don’t get to call me that.” And with that, you don’t spare Jonathan another glance.

–

When you get home, the house is eerily quiet. Dustin is at Mike’s and your mom leaves you a note saying that she’s spending the night at your aunt’s. Great. Looks like it’s just you and Mews tonight then.

After everything that’s happened tonight, you never found time to eat dinner, and your stomach is loudly growling. You drop your stuff in your room and then reheat some leftovers, feeling like a pathetic child. You know that Jonathan didn’t mean what he said, but the words had come too easily to him to have just been a way to dodge his guilt. There had been some truth to them. Maybe you were pathetic for always fretting over him.

Dinner is quiet tonight.

You wait for the phone to ring, for Jonathan to call you and apologize, but the call never comes.

You’ve never felt so alone before.

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist, just let me know :)

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #wdtai #m's writing #the thought of steve just taking will's missing poster and then being like oh shit was so funny to me i had to add it #also sad ending #sorry #but also not

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queers-gambit · 1 year

Text

Petitions

[ series masterlist ]

prompt: your family returns to Kings Landing to hear petitions regarding your brother's legitimacy.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!Velaryon!reader

fandom: House of the Dragon

word count: (this got away from me at) 11.3k+

note: i tweaked the timeline in the show a bit to match my own timeline. also it's long, but i need time to plan the next part(s). i hope this suffices!

warnings: spoilers, cursing, (poorly written) smut. basically when Aemond's in the training yard and the court scene. potentially too detailed but that's intentionally for the readers who don't watch the show. descriptions of violence, just a bit more background - marking this as fluff? it's pure filler? again, not edited, canon-level incest, dialogue. ❗️major season one, episode eight spoilers

His gaze followed you around your shared room, smirking at your nervous, jerking movements. "You know we've maids for this kind of thing, my love. And you've cleaned three times this night already, I do believe it is as spotless as it will get, sweet girl."

"Okay, well, it's just not right, yet," you rushed, sighing to yourself as you rearranged the pillows on your bed again. "'S just not right, not right, 's gotta be right," you muttered to yourself under your breath.

"Why's that, pet?"

"It's just not, Aemond, please - stop questioning me!"

His hands rose in mock defense from his place in the carved, wooden chair beside the table and before the hearth, watching you for a few more minutes as you moved like a tornado. You picked things up and rearranged them somewhere new. When your busy body moved towards the table he sat at with a pile of books in your hand, he reached out swiftly and wrapped both arms around you - making you briefly panic. He pulled you to his lap, leaving little room for you to wiggle free.

"Aemond - "

"Ease yourself, my sweet wife," he spoke smoothly, loosening his hold to let you turn comfortably on his lap. "The room is absolutely spotless, you need not worry for a thing. And you've been barking at the servants all week to clean the other chambers, I promise, things are where they need to be."

You sighed and leaned over to set the books to the table, picking up his goblet when your hand was free, and leaning your back to his chest. "I do not bark, and you'd stand well not to mock me," you muttered softly, taking a sip of sweet wine.

"I do not mean to," he sighed, nuzzling the skin in front of your ear as you sat somewhat sideways on him. "You are worrying for nought, my sweet love. Please, ease yourself, my busy bee."

"My mother's coming to the Red Keep, Aemond," you refused, head shaking to swirl tresses of silver-white hair. "And it will be the first time in years I've seen her. Please, I only want her to see that we can keep house and feel as if she's raised a proper lady - who knows how to be a wife."

"You do realize it is not our responsibility, sweets, for this is not technically our house," he muttered against your temple, placing a kiss there as you drained his goblet. "It's my mother's house to keep, and she does, so you do not need to worry yourself. Besides, they are not going to stay in our chambers."

"I know," you sighed, finally deflating against his chest. "I just want things in place. I feel in place when things are proper and away."

"They are," he assured softly, letting you lean back into him with a snuggly arm around you. He reached for your goblet and extended his arm to set it to the table's top. "Are you going to meet them?"

"Yes, of course," you assured, reaching up to gently pet his jaw as you pressed your forehead to his neck. "You are to train, are you not?"

He sighed softly, "This morn, pet, yes."

"Will you join us after?" You pouted lightly. "Before we are to hear Lord Vaemond?"

"Perhaps it is not wise for us to visit with your mother before the proceedings," Aemond admitted before he pondered a moment and decided to adjust his answer. "Or at least... It is not wise for me."

"We shall see," you sighed softly, leaning up to kiss the underside of his jaw as you understood why the meeting would make him uncomfortable. "But you are excused, my love, if that's what you are looking for."

He chuckled, "Hmm, all right. Thank you, my sweet girl. You will find me after, won't you?"

"Oh! Do not tell me it is time to rise already? I have only just sat."

"'Tis time to depart, actually, yes," he mused, leaned in to kiss your lips. You whined lightly, keeping hold of his cheek as your lips adjusted against his; his breathing deepening when his hands tightened their hold on your hips; readjusting your hips so that both legs laid over his lap in a straddle.

"Aemond," you warned half-heartedly when he began to ease you back and forth over his lap, rocking you over his growing bulge.

He sighed, "What if we did not leave this room? Hmm? For the day?"

"We have to, because we are responsible and lead by example," you chuckled lightly, letting your tongue lick over his bottom lip.

"You're not making a valid case, pet," he returned your laughter, tightening his hands so they jolted into your ribs. You lurched forward with laughter, incidentally grinding over on his lap; the both of your breaths catching when he pressed you downward.

"Aemond," you now moaned softly, brows furrowed in concentration as your hands held his jaw and neck for balance. "You know we're needed in the courtyards."

"I think we've a moment or two," he muttered against your lips, breathing the same breath as he lead you back and forth, back and forth, back and forth over his lap. His hips stiffened to raise slightly, fighting back his moan when his cock rode up into your weeping hole. "You vex me, woman," he chuckled breathily, letting his tongue dart out to flex over your neck. "How the Gods have blessed me."

"We will be late, my love," you giggled lightly. "Your mother already blames me for your new late attendance record."

He smirked at you, letting your manicured hand caress his jaw; reveling in the warmth from your fingers, "But you are the reason for our late arrivals, pet. You're irresistible."

"Maybe you're just insatiable."

"Hmm," Aemond considered with a smirk, letting your lips pucker to pepper kisses around his jaw and chin. "Are you trying to distract me, my love? I hate to admit it might be working."

"Perhaps I'd only like to savor another moment with my husband before duty holds our obligations the rest of the day."

He nodded and let his hands fall to the meat of your arse, "Fair point... Should we go back to bed then, my sweet wife?"

"Do not tempt me with a good time," you mocked him, making him laugh and lean forward to peck your lips. "Come," you finally sighed sadly.

"Yeah, all right, c'mon. Mother needs one of her children to be responsible," he agreed, letting you raise off his lap to move around the table so he had room to stand. After taking time to finish getting ready, you both laced on your boots and moved out the door. Like a gentleman, Aemond escorted you to the front landing-courtyard, where you would wait for your mother's envoy; and after a kiss to your lips and a muttered, "I love you," your husband was leaving you there to head for his training session with Ser Criston Cole, Queen's Guard.

In truth, the knight was always polite to you, but you saw his glare when he thought he was concealed. Funny how people think themselves invisible, but in reality, they are glaringly obvious. Your mother had once told you the truth behind the drama she and Cole found themselves in from years ago, and while it wasn't your place to offer judgement, it was obvious now that Cole had never forgiven your mother. Being her daughter, you were the next best thing to take his anger out on. Yet he favored your husband and his obvious skill, so, you were merely endured.

You waited only a few moments before the front gates opened and your mother's carriage was lead into the courtyard, making you perk up; straighten up; hands clasping in front of you as your shoulders straightened. You wanted to show her that she had raised you right and she need not worry - because you were a proper Targaryen lady whilst under the Hightower's heel.

One of the stationed guards called in announcement, "All hail Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne."

"Mother," you sighed to yourself with sweet relief.

"And her royal consort, Prince Daemon Targaryen!"

"Princess," a maid approached you with hurried steps and a flustered face, "you're needed - "

"Not now," you insisted, wanting to see your mother and nothing more. Even a glance - a simple glimpse of her would suffice right now. You had missed her gravely.

"Please, it is Kasta, Princess - she grows restless and aggressive," the servant rushed in worry. You sighed, nodding at her; taking the skirts of your dress in hand. "Thank you, Princess, thank you - you're the only one who can calm her."

"All right," you tisked, turning from the courtyard and following the young maid away just as your mother's carriage had opened, and she stepped out - catching a simple glimpse of your hurried back and recognizing the tense posture. "What is the matter?" You asked the maid, dodging around different personnel.

"She's refusing anything brought to eat," she explained quietly, "and she grows aggressive as time passes. We do not know what to do anymore, I am sorry for bothering you, Princess."

You huffed, "She's just restless I'd wager, I've not taken her out in a spell. Come, she'll want beef more than venison."

The maid nodded, and together, scurried off with you towards the Dragon Pit. She broke off to consult a local farmer, Mr. Drox, who provided livestock for the royal dragons, and when you reached the Pit, all guards were gathered outside in fear.

"Princess!" They breathed in relief.

"She's all right," you assured, spying the maid leading a fully grown steer closer. "Is she below?"

"No, she's refusing to go down," a guard explained, making you nod.

"Come," you gestured the maid forward. Taking the lead rope, you directed the frightened cow inward; soon spying your emerald dragon as she bellowed in distain. Sand and pebbles fell from the ceiling. "Kasta, easy, easy. What is it, my girl?" You spoke in High Valyrian. "Easy, my sweet girl. Hey, hey, hey," you sassed when she growled at you, "what's all that for, hmm? I know you want to go out, my girl, but soon. I promise, you've got to mind your manners til then, sweetness," you had to pause to turn and heave the steer forward until you could latch the lead rope to the post driven into the sand.

Kasta sniffed the air, cocking her head in curiosity when she understood your offering. Her head swung over to look at you, chittering lightly, and you smiled.

"Yeah," you sighed, "that's all and only for you, sweet girl. Kasta, you need to go down, my girl. Hey? If I offer this steer, will you go down? I will be back in the next few days to take you out. Yes? Is that fair?"

She huffed lightly, shaking her neck and head out before huffing two nostrils of smoke.

"Yeah, that's my good girl," you praised, stepping back to a safe distance. Nodding, you gave her the command to set the horned-cow on fire, listening to it wail in pain for only a few moments before dragon fire engulfed it whole - killing it over.

You watched as your terrible beasty tore the cow apart, listening to the crunch of bone and slurping of flesh before there was nothing but a charred mark in the sand where the cow once stood. You nodded in pride, approaching Kasta's shoulder.

"Good girl," you boasted to her brightly, patting her hide. "Was that enough of an offering? Could you go down now? For me?"

She huffed, and you swore, if dragons could talk, she'd be grumbling to herself like a sassy teenager. You praised the great dragon the entire walk down under the Pit, leaving her in the Dragon Caves so she could curl up in her alcove begrudgingly. "Oh, I know. That's my very good and patient girl," you assured, scratching the scales of her head. "I will be back, and we will stretch your wings, my love. Soon, I swear it." She sighed sadly, a light stream of smoke billowing out. "I know, but today is very important... My brother's lineage is in question, and I must be present for the proceedings."

Her head lifted to tilt at you as if in question.

"I know," you assured with a patient hand. "It's been very stressful. I'll come back and tell you all about it, my sweet. How's that sound?"

Kasta let out a long huff and laid her head down, making you grin with acceptance and give her head a quick hug, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Patting her scales once more, you bid her a safe night before heading out and discovering the guards still gathered. Still trembling. Still scared out of their minds.

"She's all right," you informed the men with a sigh. "She's under the Pit in the Caves and she will not come out without me. She'll have an attitude, but she's doing well. Leave her be for now."

"Yes, Princess - thank you, Princess."

You nodded in response, wiping your hands on a spare cloth as you moved away from the Pit with a deep sigh; navigating through the city. By position in the sky, you wagered you had spent quite a bit of time there, and when you returned to the Keep, there was a commotion in the training yard that caught your attention.

Slowing your gait while you aimlessly wiped your hands still, you saw your husband in the middle of the commotion - but it was Ser Cole that was posing the challenger. You paused at your vantage point in the causeway to watch, not wincing like you used to as Cole took fatal swings because Aemond was truly a gifted warrior. You used to worry, but there was no use now.

Aemond was just too good.

At the end, your husband had flipped his sword in hand to position at Cole's thick, pale neck - signaling the end of the match. This earned a round of applause from the lingering bystanders, and for the Queen's sworn sword to compliment, "Well done, my Prince. You'll be winning tourneys in no time."

As you descended the stairs leading into the yard, you heard Aemond respond, "I don't give a shit about tourneys. My wife is all the prize I need. Nephews," he directed, sword hilt twirling effortlessly in his hand as his eye shifted over to the crowd, "have you come to train?"

But luck served its purpose, and a guard was shouting, "Open the gate!"

You sighed as you reached the crowd, passing a few drooling Ladies of the court to stalk up to your husband. Approaching his flank, you reached for his elbow first; his head snapping over but relaxing when he took in your face.

"My love," he greeted calmly, smirking gently, "I did not think to see you so soon. Did you catch the show?"

"I did," you nodded, smiling up at him. "You did well, my Prince. It was very impressive, indeed." You leaned up a bit to speak in his ear, "But you'll do well not to challenge my brothers like that again, yes?"

He nodded to you, "As you wish, pretty girl. Have you been to see your mother?"

"Not yet," you sighed, "I was called away to the Pit, Kasta was restless and the guards grew fearful."

"Hmm," he nodded once, easing his arm around your waist tightly as the gates had been wrenched open and your Uncle Vaemond's entourage entered into the Red Keep - waving the blue Velaryon banners. You sighed as Aemond took up a shield, his attention turned to the marching procession and unable to fight off his taunting smirk.

"Aemond," you sighed, jabbing his ribs with your elbow.

"What?" He asked innocently, another smirk in place.

"Behave yourself, please," you sighed, seeing Cole readying for a new fight. Leaning in, you held his waist to peck his lips, "Good luck, my Prince."

"Thank you, sweet girl," he whispered, smirking down at you before stealing his own kiss, and pulling away as he readied his sword. "My wins are in your name, of course."

"And your losses?" You teased him as you backed away a few paces, hearing him chuckle.

"I have none, Princess," he assured with a curt nod, which you understood was more of a wink for him. At least, between the two of you, that's what you understood.

Aemond relied on mostly nonverbal communication and after being married for a few years now, you could read him like you did Valyrian.

You sighed to yourself with a small grin as you approached your brothers, greeting, "Oh, who are these handsome lads? Surely not my wee brothers? All but scrawny last I saw them!" They turned swiftly and grinned at you, breathing your name as they both surged forward to latch onto you in greeting. One set of arms around your neck and the other around your waist. You laughed as you hugged them back, "Oh, my sweet boys! How good it is to see you, hold you again. Ah!"

"It is good to see you, too, sister," Jace beamed; you could hear it in his voice. The two pulled back to face you in full, and your hand reached to caress your younger brother's nervous face.

"Yes, I am glad you're here, too," Luke nodded after, glancing at his brother.

"Oh, worry not, my boy," you sighed, your thumb rubbing the skin of his chin, "for we all know you are the rightful heir to Driftmark, but because Lord Corlys does not have an obvious heir right now, this is just protocol. Though, because grandfather already settled this, I'd not worry at all, Lucerys," you reached for his shoulder then, giving it a squeeze. "You are not standing alone, and you know if it would help and come down to it, I will stand for you."

"You will?" he whispered, small tears gathering in his eyes. "I could not ask that of you..."

"I would never let you stand alone, Luke," you smiled. "Or you, Jace, ever. You both will always have me on your side," you nodded at your other brother. "Though people like to whisper, we share the same blood, and to our mother, the Heir to the Throne, and grandsire, current King, you are her true born sons. That is all that matters, my loves," you spoke with reassurance. "Now, might you want to sneak into the kitchens this me? I hear they're making lemon cakes..."

"Oh! Let's go," Jace beamed, nudging his brother into action. Either boy took your hand, and felt your husband's eye on your retreating form. For the following hours, you and your brothers pursued around the Red Keep with lemon cakes, meeting with your cousins, the Ladies Rhaena and Baela; all reminiscing on shared memories and fond moments from your childhood.

They asked how your life was in the Red Keep, and while you assure all four that you were okay, you smiled sadly as you told them that you missed them all dearly. They filled you in on what your mother was up to, how your step father, Daemon, faired; what they were learning, and how life was treating them as of late.

Rhaena still did not yet have a dragon, but you knew it could not be long before she had one to claim.

Baela was doing well, all things considered.

And outside of this legitimacy fiasco, your brothers were well, too.

When the time for the court proceedings drew nearer, Aemond found you in the Godswood with the other four. "Love," he called, stalking towards you stiffly.

"Oh, Aemond," you smiled.

"Though I hate to interrupt, we're needed, love," he nodded at you with meaning, and you understood.

Again, you knew how to read your husband incredibly well.

"Right," you nodded at him, letting his hand take yours as you turned to your brothers and cousins slash step-sisters. "I will see you lot in the throne room, yes?"

"We'll be there," Jace nodded, glancing at Aemond - who only watched you. "Thank you for the hospitality, sister."

"It is always a pleasure to host you, my siblings," you spoke softly, winking at them with a smile before letting Aemond lead you away. When you exited the Godwood with your dress' skirts in hand to save you from tripping, you asked, "I imagine the Queen has summoned us?"

"She wants a word before the court proceedings begin, yes," Aemond nodded, sighing sadly. "How are your brothers, my dear?"

"Good, thank you for asking," you whispered, smiling up at him. "It is good to see them. And my step-sisters are doing well, too."

"That is good news. It is good to see you so happy," he nodded, readjusting his hold on your hand so you stepped closer all the slightly. "Mother will want us to change before court."

"Saw that coming," you teased. "Wanna match?"

"Hm, what color are you thinking, love?"

"Black," you smirked, making him paused before his mother's chambers to chuckle. "You look very handsome in black."

"Deal," he winked, pecking your forehead as he knocked at the door. When it opened, Ser Cole was on the other side, and let you pass through the open doors.

"The Prince Aemond and Princess Y/N, Your Grace," he announced to your step-mother, who paced in front of the fireplace.

"Thank you, Ser Criston," she thanked, dismissing him, and leaving you three alone. "Would you like to sit?" She offered softly, gesturing to the seating before the fire.

Like you always did, you let Aemond take the reins when talking to his mother. "No, thank you, Mother. We are going to change before the trials, after this meeting."

"'Tis not a trial, Aemond, but only accounts we are hearing. Petitions," Alicent Hightower nodded to herself. "Speaking of, my Lady, might I ask which position you intend to take?"

Knowing now was the time, you assured the King's wife, "The same position I plan to always take, Your Grace. That of my husband."

She nodded once, "Good. That is good to hear."

"Though, should I need to, I am prepared to come to my brother's defense," you spoke strongly, feeling Aemond stiffen slightly. "I do not intend for it, but should my Uncle Vaemond want to drawl me into his petition, trying to cite me, again, as absurd evidence, then I am prepared to support the Prince Lucerys' claim."

Alicent offered a solemn smile, "I would expect little else, dear girl. Very well, then..."

"If it's any peace of mind, Your Grace, I do not intend to stray from my husband's side. It is only if I am forced to, that I am prepared to defend my brother. And I only expect my Uncle Vaemond to do such, my mother nor brother would never."

"I understand," Alicent offered a smile. "Thank you for your honesty."

"Of course, Your Grace," you nodded, bowing to her after.

"If question of my wife's loyalties was all, Mother, we're going to take our leave to change before hearing these... Petitions," Aemond spoke with a hardened tick he rarely took with his mother, cocking his head slightly at the end.

"All right, yes, go on," she dismissed, waving you both out as she turned to resume her nervous pacing. You would've asked if she was all right, but decided against it.

"Everything all right, my love?" You asked when the door shut behind you and Aemond - him tugging you towards your rooms. "Hey, hey, hey, hang on a bit, my legs don't move as fast as yours, love!"

He slowed his gait, sighing lightly, "Sorry, sweet girl. Forget how fast I move sometimes."

"Yeah, 's all right, love, but are you all right?" You asked again. "Got a bit lippy with your Mum, didn't you?"

"Well, she does this often enough," he seethed slightly. "Questions your loyalties even after all these years. It's fucking ridiculous."

"She questioned my mother, she'll question me," you sighed, not wanting to stir him up. "I do not wish to say it is okay, but in a strange way, I do understand it."

"Shouldn't have to," he grumbled, arriving at your chamber doors and pushing them open.

"Well, it's our reality," you rebutdtaled as you moved past him to enter your rooms. "Is that truly what plagues you, husband?" You wondered gently after he shut the door, hands to your hips.

"For now," he sighed. "How was your mother?"

"I told you, I haven't been able to see her yet," you admitted. "I was gathered before I could see her to deal with Kasta."

"Yes... What was wrong, again?" He wondered softly, moving to select something more appropriate for your time in court.

"She is annoyed with me," you chuckled, stripping from your dress to favor the new black gown you chose to wear. "She wants to fly but I have not had time as of late."

"Hmm."

"I will take her out soon," you promised your husband as your had your dragon. "There's more on my mind currently."

He nodded, fixing a new tunic and jerkin on over his pale torso. "Things like your brother's standing as Lord of the Tides?"

You huffed before snapping, "He's the rightful heir, I do not know why this is suddenly back in bloody question. I'm sure mother's been overwhelmed with this, and I have not been there to aid her."

"Why would she be stressed?"

"How would you feel if your children's birth was called into question around every fucking corner?" You sent him a hardened look, pausing your ministrations to stare at him with malcontent. Your eyes dared him to argue with you.

"Well... When you look like you, and they look like them... Love," he sighed, pleading for you to see his reason.

"You act as if our familial traits cannot do funny things through bloodlines and time," you snipped, crossing your arms. "The Gods favored me only by allowing me white hair and the paler complexion of my father - and the boys were not so lucky. That does not make them any less Targaryen, Aemond, and I will not have this argument with you again!"

Aemond sighed and wanting to placate your ebbing and waning anger, agreed, "You are right, my love. I'm sorry for pushing."

"It's all right," you sighed, shaking your head as you went back to work, "it's not like I'm stupid or blind. I know we look different, but it does not mean that we do not share the same blood."

"No," he nodded, reaching for you to help lace up your gown. "But for now, they will plead their petitions - "

"Uncle Vaemond is the only one with a fucking petition because Luke is the rightful heir," you corrected.

"Right," he nodded in agreement, patting your waist when he was done lacing you in. "Ready, pet?"

"In a moment, yes," you sighed, reaching for a new, extravagant jewelry set - one Aemond had gifted you on your name day, the first one you shared together after you took his last name as your own.

When you were in your new gown and boots and your jewels attached properly, and your husband was changed into a new tunic, jerkin, and trousers with boots; you laced your hands together, and out the door you went. There was a growing crowd outside the courtroom, and as you drew nearer, the procession was halted to allow you passage first.

Your husband's name was announced first, and then your own; letting the two of you descend into the courtroom together. Behind you, other patrons were allowed entrance after you were a distance inside. You saw your mother and brothers standing there, smiling at her before taking your place at Aemond's side behind his family. You saw your name form on your mother's lips before she was returning your smile, only looking away when Otto Hightower, your step-grandsire and Hand of the King, took his place in front of the Iron Throne.

How wrong it looked to spy a Hightower at the legendary Throne, but you knew he was only exercising his common occupancy of being a placeholder. With the thought in mind, you let your hand press to Aemond's stomach as his hand curled around your waist; turning your attention, obediently, towards the front of the courtroom. Aegon, Helaena, and Alicent stood in front of you both, but neither you nor Aemond seemed to mind; as the second row provided optimal viewing.

Otto's voice boomed over all as he started the proceedings, "Though it is the great hope of this court that Lord Corlys Velaryon survive his wounds, we gather here with the grim task of dealing with the succession of Driftmark. As Hand, I speak with the King's voice on this and all other matters." He turned slightly to guide himself to the edge of the Throne's seat. "The crown will now hear the petitions. Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon."

"Oh, Gods, here we go," you whispered, your husband smirking and tightening his arm as your great-uncle stepped forward to the attention of the courts.

"Shh," Aemond shushed quietly with a smirk stretching across his lips to assure you he was entirely entertained by the events.

"My Queen," Vaemond greeted Alicent first with a respectful nod of his head. "My Lord Hand," he addressed Otto. "The history of our noble Houses extends beyond the Seven Kingdoms to the days of old Valyria. For as long as House Targaryen has ruled the skies, House Velaryon has ruled the seas. When the Doom fell on Valyria, our Houses became the last of their kind. Our forebearers came to this new land, knowing that were they to fail, it would mean the end of their bloodlines and their name..." His voice raised to address the whole of the court, and Aemond's hand curled and pet over your waist in an effort to soothe you. "I have spent my entire life on Driftmark defending my brother's seat. I am Lord Corlys' closest kin, his own blood. The true, unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins."

You wanted to protest, but your mother, ever the protective Mama Bear, spoke first with interjection, "As it does in my sons, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon. If you cared so much about your House's blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir. No, you only speak for yourself and your own ambition."

Without missing a single beat, Queen Alicent was calling, "You will have chance to make your own petition, Princess Rhaenyra. Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard."

You lifted your chin with a clenched jaw, watching your mother's head turn from Alicent to stare forward again, as Vaemond's smug face turned to stare her down. "What do you know of Velaryon blood, Princess, outside of your only daughter?" He sneered, making Aemond's arm constrict to pulled you a step closer so you were nearly standing on top of his feet. This was what he feared, you being pulled in, but you remained silent with a hand pressed flat to your husband's chest. "I could cut our veins and show it to you, and you still wouldn't recognize it." Your mother nodded, as if making a mental note of the insults he projected - not missing the veiled threat to you. "This is about the future and survival of my House, not yours."

You let out a soft huff when you could see Luke's face full of fear, looking down to your feet for a moment to recenter yourself; Aemond's thumb rubbing with reassurance - something that Daemon, your step father, clocked from his position across the way. Your hand briefly pet down his chest to then rest against his stomach again, an effort to remain close... To remain safe.

Your Uncle Vaemond turned from glowering smugly at your mother and her family, to then face the front of the room again, addressing, "My Queen, my Lord Hand. This is a matter of blood, not ambition." You missed the way your brothers glared at your husband, who stared back with unnerve, because your own violet eyes glared at your father's uncle. "I place the continuation of the survival of my House and my line above all. I humbly put myself before you as my brother's successor... The Lord of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides."

You sighed through your nose as Otto called, "Thank you, Ser Vaemond." There was a sickly pause as Vaemond nodded, your mother looking like she was visibly trembling; and your brother-by-law looked far too pleased and amused by the proceedings. Aemond kept his usual mask of neutrality, but his arm was heavy around you as your feet shifted your weight. "Princess Rhaenyra," Otto called, "you may now speak for your son, Lucerys Velaryon."

You smiled softly as your mother stepped up in a gorgeous black gown that had red and gold embroidery around the hemlines; coming to a halt in the middle of the courtroom to be presented. Her hands discreetly caressed the front of her pregnant belly.

"Never have I witnessed a man threaten a Princess so boldly and get away with it," she spat towards Vaemond, "and if you ever speak of my daughter again, I will ensure it be the last time you speak. Now..." She faced the front again. "If I am to grace this farce with some answer," she spat again, as she could not hold back her temper from Otto or Alicent, "I will start by reminding the court," but behind her, the throne room's door opened with a heavy clang, "that nearly 20 years ago, in this very cour - " She cut herself off, turning with shock to spy who had entered the room during an official hearing, but never did anyone imagine the late arriving newcomer.

Two guards opened the doors, and two more entered first, with only one announcing, "King Viserys of House Targaryen, the First of His Name," your mother's head snapped over to catch your eyes, both of you sharing a look of utter shock, "King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men." Otto rose from his seat on the Iron Throne slowly, staring with disbelief as your mother's father, your husband's father, your grandsire used a cane to help him hobble into the room. "Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm."

The entire courtroom bowed in respect as nobody could believe their eyes; having the impression that King Viserys, the Peaceful, was not soon for the world. Yet here he was, dressed in his robes, golden face mask in place to his the injuries his illness has left, and with a decades-old, ancestral crown sat on his balding head, limping into the throne room. Yes, he limped severely, and yes, he required a cane, but by the Gods, this was something akin to a miracle.

You felt tears of pride swelling in your eyes, knowing the babe you grew in your womb would wreck havoc on your emotions, and in an effort to not give anyone reason to question your tears, willed them away. But it was a powerful moment to watch your grandsire, and technically, father-by-law, show the court that he is not yet done with this world, and what an entrance to make.

You knew that with Viserys present, there was no real need for Rhaenyra to give her petition. However, your eyes clocked the way Vaemond looked from the Queen to the Hand with distraught, disbelieving confusion. Your eyes cut over and met that of your step-father, your single brow perking in conversation; and he subtly gave a nod of his head before turning back to watching Viserys.

But it was obvious both you and Daemon had noticed the same motions and figured it meant Vaemond had struck some deal with the Hightowers prior to the current court hearing.

How interesting, indeed.

With worry, you asked quietly to Aemond, "Should one of us help him?"

"No, sweet girl, 's all right," he assured in your ear. "Father's a proud man," he let his forehead rest against your temple; finding your kindness a breath of fresh air in the otherwise tangibly tense room.

Aemond eventually took both of your hands in your own as if to keep you anchored at his side, but your body had turned to watch the King; and as his sunken, dried, deadened eye turned, your grandsire caught sight of your encouraging smile amongst a sea of envious Green - who all provided unsure looks of shock.

A few steps later, and he saw the relieved look on his beloved daughter's face - and Viserys knew, he made the right choice in coming today.

When he leveled with Otto, the King breathed through a wheeze, "I will sit the Throne today."

You had to hold your breath to resist the scream of laughter and excitement you wanted to give. What a moment - what a fucking moment to bear witness to. And by the small smirk on your husband's lips when his gaze darted down to meet your eyes, he was feeling something akin to pride. Aemond let loose a small snort of air out of amusement, patting your hip before gripping it once more.

"Your Grace," Otto agreed, stepping away as the King tried to make it up the stairs by himself and his cane.

The whole hall echoed the the thumps of his cane and groans, moans, and grunts of determination - as well as unfiltered pain. When his guards tried to help, King Viserys refused help, and only made it a few shuffles on his feet before the crown on his thinning head clattered to the stone floor.

But tears sprung to your eyes involuntarily when Daemon stepped up beside his brother and picked up his ancestral, golden crown.

Viserys, again, tried to refuse aid, but when he saw his brother's patient face and heard his whispered encouragement, the King allowed his brother to help him. Such a moment you were feeling privileged to witness, because what a moment it was - to see Daemon, the once scorned, reckless Prince of the City, who had been disinherited as Viserys' heir in favor of your mother, Rhaenyra, helping his weakened, sickly brother up to take his seat on the Iron Throne. He then placed the golden crown to his head, taking a moment to absorb his brother's very being, and then turn to head off the Throne's pedestal.

Daemon returned to your mother's side on the court's floor; both taking their posts around their children as your hand slid into Aemond's to hold in a vice. Viserys readjusted in his seat as your husband didn't care for your positioning, pulling you closer by your waist and settling there.

Through panting breath, Viserys called to the court, "I must... Admit... My confusion. I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession. Only one present... Who might offer keener insight into Lord Corlys' wishes is the Princess Rhaenys."

All eyes, including yours, turned to look at your grandmother - who stood with her ward, Rhaena, who was Daemon and your aunt, Laena Velyaron's, daughter. Baela, their other daughter, had chose to remain, it seems, with her father and step-mother.

Princess Rhaenys is married to Lord Corlys Velaryon, the Sea Snake, where the two shared two children - you aunt Laena, and your father, Laenor; both of whom were deceased. Now, with Lord Coryls' severe wounds, it seems only his wife can provide proper insight to what his wishes are following his death.

Gods forbid it came to that...

Inclining her head, your grandmother, who was years ago passed over to succeed the Iron Throne in favor of your grandsire, Viserys, agreed, "Indeed, Your Grace." With a solemn look to her brother-by-law, Vaemond, she moved for the center of the court. When she came to a halt, she kept her voice even and diplomatic, "It was ever my husband's will that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor, to his trueborn son... Lucerys Velaryon. His mind never changed. Nor did my support of him." You noticed her words drew the attention of the Greens, remaining silent. "As a matter of fact, the Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her sons, Jace and Luke, to Lord Corlys' granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena." You noted the looks your brothers offered your mother, smirking gently. "A proposal to which I heartily agree."

Your stepmother shook her head in displeasure, and you realized, while Vaemond had sought the Queen and Hand's council, your mother had alined herself with Princess Rhaenys - and it was checkmate.

Your mother had the upper hand, and now with the Princess' words, you knew she had solidified her son's position. Well played, Mother...

"Well... The matter is settled," Viserys decided. "Again. I hereby reaffirm Prince Lucerys of House Velaryon," heads turned to look at the boy, "as heir to Driftmark, the Driftwood Throne, and the next Lord of the Tides."

Hearing Viserys wheeze in punctuation, Rhaenys turned from her place, sending a small smirk to Rhaenyra, and moved back towards her granddaughter, your cousin and step-sister, Rhaena.

But the matter was far from settled.

"You break law..." Vaemond seethed, stepping up to the King's attention, "and centuries of tradition to install your daughter as heir. Yet you dare tell me... Who deserves to inherit the name Velaryon... No... I will not allow it," he hissed in anger.

"'Allow it'?" Viserys repeated. "Do not forget yourself, Vaemond."

You flinched gently when Vaemond turned to point an accusatory finger at your younger brother, "THAT is no true Velaryon," he turned back to the King, "and certainly no nephew of mine."

"Go to your chambers," you mother demanded of your brothers. To Vaemond, she directed, "You have said enough."

"Lucerys is my true-born grandson," Viserys reiterated. "And you... Are no more than the second son of Driftmark."

"You... May run your House as you see fit... But you will not decide the future of mine. My House survived the Doom and a thousand tribulations besides!" He growled. His head whipped around to glare at Rhaenyra. "And Gods be damned, I will not see it ended on the account of this - " He took a breath to finish his sentence but pursed his lips, reminding him that he was in the presence of the King. He held his tongue.

Across the way, you saw your step-father challenge under his breath, "Say it."

Your spine straightened as Aemond's hand rubbed deftly up and down in assurance, everyone waiting for Vaemond's next words. Even Viserys cocked his head as he waited with a pant to his lungs.

"Her children," Vaemond started quietly - but all still heard him, "are BASTARDS!"

"Hey, hey," Aemond whispered, both arms around you when you shifted in place - wanting to throw some punches, but your husband restrained you.

Anger shifted around your family, both boys doing little to hide their disrespect; you doing little to hide your acute anger. Daemon caught your eye and you saw him raise a silent finger, sighing, and relaxing into Aemond's chest. He even breathed a sigh of relief when you did, pressing a quick peck to your temple as if to thank you for backing down - saving him from a fight.

"And she..." Vaemond turned forward to tell the King, "Is... A whore."

The crowd gasped, Aemond smirked, and his arms tightened around you - despite your frozen shock. Truth of the matter was that both Laenor and Daemon had taken time to train you themselves on Dragonstone with a sword, so, you felt as if your odds at taking on the older Velaryon were better than most.

But your attention turned towards the King as he hobbled from his Throne with a hefty glare. "I..." He breathed, yanking his dagger free from his belt, but your eyes watched Daemon as he moved stoically, almost invisible to the court as they were all waiting for Viserys' judgement; the King panting, "Will have your tongue for that!"

Before you could yell not to, your step-father had unsheathed his sword and expertly cleaved Dark Sister to slice clean through Vaemond's head. You flinched some and Aemond turned his body to turn you away from the sight, blood splattering across the floor. Helaena and Alicent turned away, too, Aemond seemingly unable to look away, as Aegon only turned his head to the side with disgust.

When the dead body hit the floor with a squelch, you could see that Daemon had sliced clean through the man's skull - and only his jaw and tongue were attached - the latter flopping to the side uselessly. Standing above the body, Daemon glared down at him with Dark Sister planted to the ground, his hands folded over the hilt.

"He can keep his tongue," Daemon leered.

"DISARM HIM!" Otto snapped back into his senses from shock, hollering to the King's Guard; making a chorus of unsheathing swords sing.

"No need," Daemon brushed off casually, catching your eye to drop a quick, reassuring wink as he lifted his blade to wipe it clean while he moved back for his wife's side - ever the protective husband.

But you seemingly heard him first, and caught sight of Viserys' strength failing him, "Alicent - the King," you rushed to tell her.

Her head snapped around as Viserys collapsed, moaning in discomfort. "Call the Maesters!" She cried, a hand briefly squeezing your forearm in thanks before rushing up the stairs to catch her husband's failing figure.

"Father?" Rhaenyra stepped up, and while you wanted to rush for her, the King was the most pressing matter, and you paused at Aemond's side. Though the King never truly showed his sons love, you knew in some twisted way that he did; and so did Aemond in that moment, for his face showed concern while you felt his body tense.

You turned to press into his side, under his tight arm, and with your hand flat to his chest, muttered, "'S all right, love. He's got help."

He nodded mutely at you, trying to relax as a guard took Viserys under his arm - the Maester racing to the scene, and together, they helped the groaning King down from his Throne. You pet over your husband's chest as the King was escorted away, leaving Queen Alicent before the Throne, and Rhaenyra at the base of the pedestal.

How odd to see... Alicent standing above Rhaenyra. Green above Black. Hightower above the mighty Dragon.

The turn of the tide was soon to crash over the House of the Dragon, and from the image before you, you worried the Hightowers would topple the structure of your beloved family. Aemond sighed heavily, his head tilted towards your ear. "C'mon, my love. Please."

You sighed and let his hand tangle with yours, waiting for dismissal - but after the King leaves, there is little need to linger. You could not yet speak to your mother, step-father, brothers, or cousins, but you managed to catch your mother's eyes - nodding once, to which she returned the motion, and then Aemond was striding out of the hall with you in tow. His siblings might've followed, you're unsure, because your feet had to jog to catch up with your husband's elongated strides.

When you got to your chambers, he ushered you inside and shut the door before locking it. "Aemond?" You asked in a breath.

"What was that?" He asked, starting to pace the length of your room. "What the bloody hell was that? Huh!?"

"Aemond, calm yourself a moment to explain to me what you're on about."

"That!" He roared, hand held up in gesture.

"Sadly, that was just Daemon being Daemon. He's rash, my love, and has always operated by his own want, merit, and doing. He cares very little for political politeness. Even when he was heir after Viserys, before my mother, he was ruthless. He's calmed down considerably, but he is still brash. Do not let Daemon startle you - "

"I am not startled."

"Then what is this?" You asked, sighing with a gesture towards him.

"It is strange, is it not? That he can behave in such a manner?"

"He's the King's brother," you shrugged a bit.

"I am the King's son," he snapped, "and yet when his grandsons attack me, he favored them over me. Even after I was disfigured! What am I doing wrong? Hey? His brother is allowed to openly murder a man, yet I lose an eye without consequence, and for what?"

"Vaemond Velaryon offered deep, troubling, public insult to the crown heir of this kingdom," you snapped. "Nevermind he also seemed to have threatened your wife, my dear husband! Mind your fucking manners for that is still my mother and our future Queen you speak of. Vaemond decided to raise ill word to her, insulting her seed, insulting the King's seed, threatening to make me bleed, and Daemon does not handle disrespect well." You were enraged, but your heart also shattered in your chest for your husband. You stepped up so you could take his hands in your own, "But I am so sorry for what happened years ago, Aemond, I truly am, my sweet love." His hands tore from yours in favor of squeezing your waist closer to him. "It is not fair and justice was never served for your injuries, but I implore you to see that this jealousy will not get you anywhere. You forget, my young brother is heir after my mother, and my brother after is heir to Driftmark. But I, my sweet, am heir to Dragonstone. When the time is right, you and I can be away from this political foolishness and have our own homestead to rule over. You will not always endure being a second son, because you will be Lord of Dragonstone. Hmm? We will not always have reason to play by everyone else's rules."

He sighed, chuckling lightly after, "Aye, you know how to soothe me, don't you?"

"I'd be a pretty terrible wife if I did not," you teased softly. "Vaemond made a mistake, my love, and while I will not justify Daemon, I cannot say I am surprised. He is not named the Rogue Prince for nought. But I do know there will be no consequences to his actions."

"And how fair does that seem, wife?"

"It is not, husband," you sighed, "but there is little to be done."

"Like there was little to be done when I lost my eye?"

You frowned, caressing his cheek softly before reaching for both his eye patch and hair clip; releasing his silver locks first. His eye closed and his head bowed some to then let you lift the leather patch from his face. "Would you look at me? Please?" You asked softly, caressing his cheek again to let your thumb run over the under side of his scar softly. When his violet eye met your amethyst orbs, he shuddered a small breath. "The loss of your eye is truly unfortunate, and I cannot extend my deepest sympathies for it. But it does not take away from you," you let your eyes rake over the injury, the sapphire he liked to put in his bare socket almost winking at you in the torchlight. "I find you incredibly beautiful, my sweet husband." Your eyes moved to his, "And nothing is going to change my love for you. Eye or no eye... So long as your love remains mine, I do not wish for anything else. You are all I need in a husband, in a partner," his hands tightened to a bruising strength, pressing you against his front - and growing bulge, "and I love you exactly the way you are."

Aemond, a man of little words, surged forward to lock your lips in a searing kiss; earning a high-pitched whine from you. His arms locked around you, your hands gripping his neck as if he was the only thing keeping you upright. Aemond felt emotion swell in his chest and started to back you up towards the bed; leaning you down to sit on the bed, hands locked in your hair.

He smirked when your teeth pulled over his bottom lip, letting it snap back into place. "Lay back," he ordered quietly, aiding you by means of guiding your legs up to help you push back on the bed. His smirk didn't falter as he unlaced your boots and then pulled them off, caressing your bare feet after pulling your stockings off. His hands then moved up your calves, pushing the skirts of your dress up as he went. With your feet planted, he pushed your knees apart and let your skirts fall up your hips.

He let his gaze rake over you, his nose exhaling a deep sigh.

Your head cocked slightly, asking as you reached for him, "What's wrong, love?"

"Nothing," he assured swiftly, pausing to start unlacing his leather jerkin. "Just appreciating the view of my stunning wife."

You pulled yourself up onto your elbows, smiling at him, "You know this view well, do you not?"

"I will not tire of it," he nodded, finally ridding his upper half naked, much to your appreciation. "I do swear you get more beautiful as time passes. How blessed I am."

Sliding yourself to sit up, you let your hair tumble around one shoulder as you watched him. When he moved towards you again, you held a hand in pause to him, making him halt in wonder as you explained, "The pants, too, my Lord."

He smirked, "You do not wish to dispose of them yourself?"

"I want to watch you," your voice lowered, standing from the bed only to pull all your under clothes off from underneath your skirts. Dropping them at his feet, you looked him up and down as prey did predator before moving for the spare table. Pouring yourself a goblet of wine, you moved back for the bed to sit, cross your bare legs, and take a hefty sip as your brows perked. With your eyes watching your husband, you prompted, "Well? Do you mean to disobey your wife? I did not think I'd have to ask twice."

His fingers slowly, tauntingly, yanked at the leather strings of his trousers; never once breaking eye contact with you as you took another gulp. In the effort to finish your cup before he was done, you took another drawl as Aemond yanked the hips of his britches open; then shucking them from his hips.

Your head cocked with a tease, swallowing another mouthful of sweet wine as he tugged the leather trousers down his muscular thighs, and then finally, down around his calves.

"Keep going," you whispered, his hands pulling his boots free, tossing them to the side; and then finishing by freeing his legs, tossing his leather pants away. They landed near his boots, but still, his eye did not break free from yours. You finished your wine.

Slowly, your tongue licked between the seam of your lips, tasting the sweet Dornish wine Aemond preferred. You hummed lightly, smirking at your husband, making him prompt, "And now, my Princess?" He took confident steps forward, making your legs uncross to spread and welcome him. "What would you have of me, wife?"

"On your knees," you whispered when his face hovered over yours. He took the goblet from your hands and let it clatter to the floor.

"Hmm. On your back first, love," he purred in response, making you smile when his hands swiftly bunched your skirts up to your waist, lowering himself as he went until he was perfectly level with your bare cunt. He breathed across your lower wetted lips, taking a tasting lick. He hummed, "Just as I thought you could not be more perfect. Gods, you taste delectable, my sweet girl."

Before you could speak his name in reprimand, he opened his mouth, and dove tongue first into your weeping heat. All that fell from your lips were breathless moans and his name chanted like a prayer; legs spreading wider to accommodate his broad shoulders while your head tipped back in pleasure.

With desperate fingers, you pulled at your dress to free your arms and wrangle from the garment; his hand instantly shooting up your body to palm your breast with near relief, kneading it with fervor. His mouth engulfed the whole of your cunt, moving both tongue and jaw to lap at the juices you secreted from arousal.

He hummed against your clit, tongue messily wagging back and forth; hand tight on your tit, the other holding your hip in place. "Aemond," you begged shrilly, without breath; mind lost to his ministrations. Your hand tightened in his free flowing locks. "Wait, wait, wait," you panted, over come by the feeling he provided you. But he bore down, keeping you in place, and the hand that had once twisted your nipple dropped to sweep against your weeping hole.

With a wanton cry from you, his fingers pushed in, and the combined pressure of his fingers pumping in and out of you relentlessly with his lips sucking on your puckered clit sent you to heaven.

A warm flushed your body, and your blood began to sing as you were overwhelmed with the adrenaline rush - gasping for Aemond, hands fisting his hair, and keeping him close to your cunt; resulting in you releasing over his mouth, chin, and fingers.

"Ah, that's it," he praised, not relenting his finger's motions to only glance up at you, "keep going, my sweet girl, that's it. Good girl, yes," he gazed back at your cunt, speeding his fingers up when your back arched, and a moment later, a second wave crashed and Aemond was laughing as you squirted over him - again.

"Ae-Aemond," you pleaded brokenly, nearly wriggling with pleasure.

"One more, one more, one more," he grunted, one arm now holding your hips down as the other rapidly spurred into you to prod at that spongy-good spot within your walls. His drool dripped onto your puffy clit before he descended to suck his lips over you. "Yes, yes, yes, good girl, that's it, fucking soak me, go on, yes, that's my girl, one more, one more," he praised in a chant, holding you down as your hips bucked and for a final time, spewed over your husband's chin and chest.

"Oh, my Gods," you panted, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes involuntarily; chest heaving as your legs felt limp, yet simultaneously alight with a buzz. "N-No more, please. Gods..."

"Yeah? You all right, precious girl?" He chuckled, crawling up your body. He paused for a moment to finally yank your dress off you; raising your hips to help him before crashing back to the bed.

"Yeah," you panted still. "Gods, where did that come from, hey?"

"You're surprised?" he chuckled, laying beside you a moment; letting his head dip down to kiss your neck.

"No," you admitted, chuckling a bit. "Just not used to it, yet."

"Your body sings for me, pet," he whispered, letting his tongue rake up sweaty skin. After biting at your throat gently, he wondered, "Got another in you?"

"Anything for you, my Prince," you whispered, petting his cheek to raise his lips to yours. He groaned when your teeth bit his lip, making him press harder into you; bare, throbbing cock pressing into your hip. "Aemond," you begged, reaching for his twitching member; hearing his breath sharpen and stagger.

"On your stomach, sweetheart," he smirked, petting down your waist. When you felt his hand purposefully skate across your lower stomach, you worried he felt the change in your body.

"Maybe not," you pouted some.

"What's wrong?" He asked instantly.

Your hand laid over his, curling around it to hold. "Well, I'm soon to start my cycle and I believe the fish the other night wasn't good. I just feel bloated, not myself."

He hummed, "Do you feel unwell?"

"No."

"Then it is of no concern to me because you know you're perfect in my eyes," he chuckled a bit, leaning in to kiss you fully. "Let me fuck you, pretty girl."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever my Lord husband wants," you playfully rolled your eyes at him, easing from under his body to plant your feet on the ground but lay your stomach on the bed, giving your hips a quick wiggle. "Hmm?"

"Good girl," he growled, wasting no time in leaping off the bed after you; planting his feet between yours, and after giving a single sweep of his cock up your slick, he pushed his hips forward until fully sheathed inside you. The both of you moaned, and while you thought your husband often insatiable, you would not get used to his size nor girth; often craving it.

You panted beneath him, feeling his hands move from your hips to waist to your back and then your hair and to your shoulders then to waist, again. All the while, as if energized by something you could not see, his hips hammered into the back of yours; making your hands fist your sheets in tune to his low, growling grunts.

You begged his name as if for relief, but it fell on deaf ears.

Aemond was chasing his orgasm now (that had built all day), letting his fingers find your clit to rapidly toy with it; feeling your knees buckle into the side of the mattress. You let your face screw up slightly as your orgasm was damn-near blinding, nearly collapsing into the bed as Aemond's hands seized your hips to hump all the hard, all the faster.

"FUCK!" You shouted from a twinge of pain, feeling him stretching you - prodding into spots deep within your walls, and feeling your pleasure mount to new heights. Your hands once held the sheets now shot back to grab at his forearms, trying to alleviate the pressure you felt, but he did not falter - nor slow - his hammering hips.

"That's it, I know you can fucking take it, like a good fucking girl," Aemond snarled, one hand holding your hips as the other reached out to wrap in your hair and yank back. Your back bowed and your chest rose; a guttural moan ripping from your throat with near pain from the pull to your scalp. But when you were close enough, his arm helped adjust you; one hand in your hair as the other wrapped around your chest. His hips did not falter in their movements, that now pounded into you upwards. "That's my girl," his lips spoke in your ear, wetting the shell of it before giving a scrape of his teeth. "Always so fucking good for me, so wet and willing. Just sucking me in, Seven fucking Hells."

"Aemond," you whimpered now, almost delirious as one of your hands drifted down your body to finger your clit while the other helped you keep your position.

"Get there, my love," he encouraged, licking at your neck. "C'mon, pretty girl. Get there, I feel you squeezing me - lemme fucking feel you gush all over me."

It did not take long, and within a few strokes, you were tumbling over the cliffside; Aemond following only a few moments after to paint your inner walls with his hot ropes of cum. You both let yourselves fall forward to the bed, and your husband did his best to hold his balance off of you. But his chest rose and fell with trepidation, making you reach back to pet over his cheek.

His hair was damp from sweat, your own no real different.

Aemond heaved for breath as he pulled his softening cock from your cunt, shoving himself up the bed before reaching for you, and yanking you up by grabbing under your arms. You whined, naturally, but settled when he had laid you against his chest; pausing only to readjust comfortably against him, one leg hitching over his hips. "Please tell me we are done for the day?" You sighed against his flushed chest, manicured nail tracing patterns over his breast. "We're not needed elsewhere, right?"

"I believe we're done for the day, yes, my love," he sighed softly, kissing your forehead.

"Hmm," you nodded, playfully nipping at his pebbled nipple.

"Hey, now. Do not tempt me, I will take you again right now."

You grinned up at him when his arm tightened. But before you could say anything, there was a (dreaded) knock at your door. "Prince Aemond?" A servant called through the wood, making your head fall to his chest with a defeated sigh.

Your husband huffed and grumbled a curse while sitting up to yank a blanket from the bottom of your bed; swiftly covering both of your lower halves with your chest pressed to his side for protection.

"Come in," he lazily demanded, laying back to the headboard with an arm behind his head, and looking to the opening door. His other hand lazily drug calloused fingertips over the plain of your bare back, sending a legion of goose flesh over your flesh and for a shiver to shoot down your spine. "What is it?" He asked stoically of the servant.

"M-My Prince, Princess," the servant nervously stuttered, bowing with respect, "my apologies for the intrusion, but the Hand has called for a dinner later in the evening."

"I'm sorry?" Aemond snipped, making your hand thump against his chest in silent reprimand. He adjusted his tone when he asked, "What's that to mean?"

"The K-King, my Prince, has called for a dinner. The Hand is tasked with delivering the message and ensuring the royal family attends."

You sighed and whispered, "'S fine, love. Dinner sounds nice."

Aemond nodded, waving the servant out, "There a time?"

"Sundown, my Prince."

"That will be all," he dismissed with finality.

"Thank you!" You called, hearing the door shut right after. You chuckled, "You could stand to be a bit nicer, you know. It will not kill you, my love, I promise."

"They're lucky they knocked when they did. Should they have arrived minutes prior, I might've had to knock around a skull or two," he grumbled.

You chuckled slightly, "Perhaps you'd fancy a trip to the training yard, my love? Work out your frustrations with a sword?"

"Usually you offer yourself," he teased.

"I need to be able to walk if we are to have dinner with the King tonight," you covered, leaning up to peck his lips. "But I can feel your tension, just thought you'd want to hack your sword into something."

"Have another uncle I could dice up?" He teased.

"Oh, you're so bloody funny, ha-ha," you teased, feeling his lips spread in a grin across your forehead. With a sigh, you let yourself relish in the few moments more you had with your husband - before he would rise, dress, and depart, and you'd be left alone to figure out what the hell to wear that evening. You've already worn most of your dresses that concealed your swelling-belly, wondering what else was left in your wardrobe to use.

After another few moments to stretch in bed, you called for your handmaiden, Amira, and rose to tie a dressing robe over your bare figure. While you waited for her arrival, you chose proper undergarments and in an effort to save yourself embarrassment, dressed quickly before retying your robe - where moments later, Amira knocked, and began the process that would ensure you wore the perfect gown for dinner.

Something proper that would not give away the shape of your belly, and therefore, uncover your secret.

[ series masterlist ]

#aemond targaryen #prince aemond #aemond the kinslayer #aemond imagine #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #hotd smut #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut

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luvrhyune · 1 year

Note

hi!! can i ask for ot8 hcs dating idol!reader if you are comfortable with it, if not feel free to ignore this, have a nice day<33

-; ✧˖*°࿐ IDOL PARTNER HCS . HYUNG LINE .

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ SUMMARY ; you as an idol with your skz bf hcs !!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ PAIRING ; hyung line x gn! reader

— warnings ; established relationships, LONG ASS HEAD CANONS, mentions of eating, minho’s & changbin’s hcs implies that ur in a gg.

— notes ; this is SO BAD because i literally know nothing abt idol life,, sorry if you hate this nonnie </3

— notes ; i’m sorry that these are so long😭

— notes ; i only did this as eldest three (3) simply because of how LONG they are, and the more i write for it the more i’m losing inspiration for it!

masterlist.

— CHAN !!

chan most definitely knew your leader and thats how you two met.

you and your group were getting yourself ready for a comeback stage and chan came to congratulate you guys on your comeback.

the both of you hit it off instantly, and exchanged numbers.

because of how close you and chan had gotten there we’re definitely a few dating rumours, that set both stay and your fandom off.

he most definitely plays your groups songs on his v-lives and he is ALWAYS singing your parts like he knows them off by heart

if you ever do a solo album you go to chan (3racha) to help you out because you trust his judgment.

when you and chan eventually start dating, it’s hard for him to not mention it at all.

this man is almost blurting out the fact he has a partner to his live.

“stay, i have someone, i haven’t seen them in a while because we’ve both been busy. but i love them so much, and i hope you understand… stay, i’m in a relationship with.. the sea!” and he starts laughing but it’s nervous laughter.

you and chan spend a lot of time in his studio, you’ve 100% picked up a few of his music production tips.

late nights in the studio with chan most definitely.

i can see you & him making a few covers of songs, like ‘i’m yours’, ‘iris’ and a few others, the both of you just jamming out, harmonising effortlessly just enjoying each other’s presence.

i think since the both of you know what it’s like to over work yourselves , you both make it your mission to make sure the other is taking the right amount of breaks, eating and sleeping properly.

he LOVES watching you onstage in your element. he’s just so proud of you, especially if you were nervous before hand.

theres just clips of him watching your groups performance, bopping his head with the biggest love sick smile on his face.

— MINHO !!

you met minho when you were filling in as an mc for your group member since she had something important to attend to.

he stormed into the dressing room to have some of his daily banter with your group member, only to find you in her place.

so theres just you sat there in the chair looking over your shoulder at him, startled. and him in the doorway blinking with a confused look on his face before he immediately apologises.

the both of you thought it was going to be awkward for the rest of the day, but you actually found it wasn’t. you and minho talking easily and making jokes.

he’s almost upset that you won’t be there to mc the next episode with him.

he next meets you when you’re both mcing for a different show and there’s constantly laughing and banter between the two of you thats theres dating rumours and shipping going on between the two of you.

we all know minho is a gg choreo lover, so there is no doubt there are fancams of him dancing to the choreography of your title song.

during your premonitions on instagram, tiktok, etc minho is always your partner for it and vice versa.

once your minho’s official partner, he’s always subtly telling stay’s he has a partner.

nobody ever gets the hint, because it’s minho, and the both of you find it hilarious.

minho will always go over your dances with you if you’re feeling like you can do better. he’ll watch over what you’re doing and direct your moves to help out.

when watching you preform on stage he’s literally copying every move in tiny.

— CHANGBIN !!

wow, surprisingly you guys met in the gym.

changbin goes to the gym daily so it’s not really a surprise that he was there.

but you were there because you needed to work on your upper body strength for a special stage you were doing (as well as your mv)

quick note from me,, i’m using solar from mamamoo as a reference for this hc (her pole dancing)

your first time there, you were only going there to scope out the gym.

and changbin noticed how timid you were so he came up to you with a soft smile and asked if you wanted any help.

you just stared at him in amazement because he was so ??? nice??? and even if you found him a little intimidating, you still felt safe.

you explained to him that you were just checking out the gym and he showed you around telling you what all the different equipment was for (if you didn’t already know).

when it’s time for you to leave, he gives you his number and tells you to contact him if you ever need any help.

that’s how the two of you end up as work out buddies (ft 3racha & sometimes minho).

though sometimes when he vlogs his workouts, you can’t workout with him that day because you don’t want any dating rumours because last time you had some you had a lot of bad backlash.

the two of you exchanged contact info because you had told him you’d be going to the gym less as your schedule was getting busier.

the two of you start going on frequent dates, you go to the gym together (when you can) and then go for food afterwards and he’ll drive around while you both talk about whats going on in your schedules/practices/comebacks/promotions, etc.

AND THEN YOU DO THE SPECIAL STAGE AND BACK STAGE CHANGBINNIE ASKS YOU OUR RIGHT THEN AND THERE

so as your bf, changbin is so smiley and giggly, and i guess while thats normal for him stay’s can’t help but question why he’s more smiley and giggly than usual.

“it’s all because of stay” is what he says, but then he’ll look away from the camera with his classic little grin and nose twitch.

he’s also a gg choreo lover, so 100% is he dancing to half of your groups songs

i can 100% confirm that he would write songs about you. whether or not they get published is a different story, but changbin will write so many songs about you.

the songs will vary from your smile to how much he loves you it hurts.

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thesithdiaries · 2 years

Text

Monster (Aemond Targaryen imagine)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x female Strong!reader

Requested: Yes, but @astraljedi and I modified it a lil

Warnings: angst, cursing, lets say rhaenyra and laenor get married two years earlier than in the show (everything else is the same), im trying to make this timeline make sense, spoilers for episode 6, 7 and 8, aemond channeling his inner daemon, typical westeros violence, awkward dinner, very telenovela fight after the dinner A/N + additional warnings: i normally try to avoid this but i will be mentioning hair descriptions in this. sorry about that

Aemond was hugging his mother, resting his head on her shoulder. He had just lost an eye but he gained the biggest dragon in Westeros.

He watched as his betrothed, Y/N Velaryon, held onto her younger brothers. Many years ago, Alicent had agreed to an arranged marriage, all because Viserys thought it would be a good idea. Aemond always got along with Y/N, she was the only one that did not antagonize him for not having a dragon. He did expect her to take his side and comfort him, but he was a fool to think that.

“This marriage,” Alicent started, pointing at her son and Y/N, “is off. I do not want your daughter near my son.” Rhaenyra smirked as she was walking away from the hall. After what had happened in the past weeks, she also did not want her daughter with Aemond.

Six years later

Y/N sat in the gardens with her younger brothers Joffrey, Aegon, and Viserys. She was reading to them but they fell asleep. Life at Dragonstone had been peaceful, being away from King’s Landing was the best for everyone, especially after what happened after Laena’s funeral.

Part of her wishes to be in Harrenhal with her brothers, looking after their father’s castle. Harwin's death was devastating for her. Rhaenyra and Laenor got married sooner than expected, after the news that she was with child. Everything was perfect until Y/N was born without silver hair. They tried to dismiss it, claiming it was because of Princess Rhaenys’ mother. The speculations about who their real father was were growing more as Rhaenyra gave birth to three boys, all with dark hair. Y/N found out at a very young age that Harwin was her father. He always treated her differently, and part of her knew it was not because she was a girl. Rhaenyra had no other choice but to admit it, knowing her daughter was stubborn and would not drop the matter.

Ser Harwin knew he could not act like a father in public, yet that did not stop him from treating Y/N well. He would give in to her many child-like demands, which consisted mostly of getting savory cakes and being carried around. He would also give her a single flower whenever they were alone during their walks along the Red Keep. Harwin would say “Here you go, Princess,” as he placed it on her hair. Y/N kept all of them in a small jewelry chest, along with many other gifts he gave her through the years. She treasured them all.

Daemon was quietly approaching her after noticing the three young boys laying around her. “Darling,” he whispered. Y/N carefully got up, trying to not disturb them. Daemon grabbed her hand and pulled her away.

“What is it, father? Did something happen?” She asked, noticing he had a worried expression.

“We have to return to King’s Landing.”

“Why?” Y/N sighed with annoyance.

“Y/N,” Daemon warned, causing her to roll her eyes. “Vaemond has decided he wants the Driftmark throne. By doing this, he will also bring up Lucerys’ legitimacy.”

“What about grandfather? Can he do something about it?” Daemon shook his head.

“The greens are the ones making the decisions,” he pointed out. “We need to be there and prevent Vaemond from taking what he wants.”

Y/N nodded, now scared at the possible outcome. Daemon noticed immediately, caressing her face as he gave her a reassuring smile. “It will go our way, I promise.”

Every fear Y/N had was solidified the second they arrived at the Red Keep and nobody was there to greet them. Her parents went to see the King, while she went to the training yard with Jace and Luke, who was getting nervous from all the stares they were receiving.

“What’s your problem?” Jace asked him while looking at all the weapons that they had for training.

“Everyone's staring at us,” Luke replied, fidgeting.

“So?” Y/N scoffed.

“No one would question me being heir to Driftmark... if... if I looked more like Ser Laenor Velaryon than Ser Harwin Strong.” Y/N stared at him in disappointment. She understood what he felt and how Vaemond’s claims made all of them look yet that did not make her feel less sad.

“It doesn't matter what they think.” Jace reminded him before Y/N could say anything.

Their conversation was interrupted by the cheering crowd behind them. As they approached in curiosity, they saw Ser Criston fighting with a man with long silver hair. In all honesty, it was impressive.

“Well done, my Prince,” Criston congratulated him. “You'll be winning tourneys in no time.”

“I don't give a shit about tourneys.” The man turned around to face them, it was Aemond. Y/N felt Luke grabbing her hand, it was something he did when he was very nervous. “Nephews, niece... have you come to train?”

Aemond was staring at her, she was more beautiful than he remembered. Y/N was avoiding his gaze, making him smirk. If only things had gone their way, they would have been married at this moment. They could have been happy.

The air in the throne room felt tense.

“I hereby reaffirm Prince Lucerys of House Velaryon as heir to Driftmark, the Driftwood Throne, and the next Lord of the Tides.” The King had appeared, surprising everyone. Y/N smiled at her grandfather’s strength, she knew he was in so much pain but he loved his daughter and his grandchildren. “And, in addition, I declare that Prince Aemond and Princess Y/N are still betrothed and will be wed before the next full moon.”

Y/N felt her heart drop to her stomach. Daemon and Rhaenyra looked at her with worry. They knew what Aemond had become, they knew what he was capable of. On the other side of the throne room, the Prince’s chest filled with pride at the King’s command. He gazed over at his future wife, who was also looking his way. Her expression was unreadable, he did not know if she felt happy or sad. They were both so concentrated on each other that a yell from Vaemond Velaryon snapped them out of their thoughts.

“Her children are bastards!” Y/N held onto Jace’s arm, knowing that he was capable of throwing himself on top of Vaemond to beat him. “And she... is... a whοre.”

The crowd behind them gasped. This was the highest of treasons and he said it all in front of the king. “I... will have your tongue for that.” Viserys threatened him, but Daemon had other plans.

He sliced off his head with Darksister. Y/N flinched, hiding her head on Jace’s shoulder. “He can keep his tongue.”

Aemond looked for Y/N, only to see Jace shielding her from the graphic scene in front of them. He had his arms protectively around her, despite knowing Daemon would never hurt them. He felt his blood boil. If anyone should be comforting her during a moment like this, it should be him, not her bastard brother.

Viserys had requested to have a family dinner.

Y/N entered the dining room behind her parents. Alicent and her children were already there, waiting for them.

“Y/N, dear, you can sit here.” The Queen called for her. There was a seat next to Aemond’s. Y/N flashed a look of absolute fear to her father before walking towards them. Aemond was once again staring at her every move. She sat next to him quietly. Helaena grabbed her hand, giving her a reassuring squeeze. Lucerys was right at the other end of the table with Rhaena. They both smiled at her as if to say everything would be alright.

“You look beautiful,” Aemond whispered in her ear. Y/N finally turned her head towards him, flashing a quick smile. He hummed at her shy behavior.

Y/N was not focusing on what was being said during the toasts. The fear she had felt the previous day was returning. She still did not understand why Viserys wanted her to marry Aemond, he knew why it was called off. However, she did not hold it against him, she knew he was very sick. She would do this for him, as a final wish.

A hard bang on the table made her flinch. Jace had stood up in anger, trying to control himself. Aemond also stood up, daring him to do something. He gave a toast in honor of his uncles. Luke was biting his cheek to hold back his laugh, all the memories of them being children filling his mind.

Helaena stood up next. “I would like to toast to Baela and Rhaena. They'll be married soon. It isn't so bad. Mostly he just ignores you... except sometimes when he's drunk.”

Y/N’s eyes widened at what she said. She felt pity for her, Helaena was kind and she did not deserve to be married to Aegon. He was not a good man. Aemond was carefully studying Y/N. Her expressions, her movements, the subtle shake of her hand when she reached for her cup. It had been so long since he saw her last and he wanted to make up for the lost time.

Jace stood up again, asking Helaena to dance with him. Y/N smirked at Aegon’s expression, but it quickly dropped when he glanced her way to lock eyes with Aemond. Luke was next to her out of nowhere, grabbing her hand. As they danced, Aemond felt the anger rising in him again. Seeing Y/N dancing with the same boy that took his eye was driving him mad.

A servant sat a cooked pig right next to Aemond. Luke was giggling quietly at this.

Aemond hit the table before standing up. "Final tribute. To the health of my nephews: Jace... Luke... and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise... hm... strong. Come, let us drain our cups to these three... Strong boys.” The room fell quiet after this.

“I dare you to say that again,” Jace threatened him.

“Why? 'Twas only a compliment. Do you not think yourself Strong?”

A hard slap echoed through the room. Y/N stood directly in front of Aemond, her body was shaking with fury. He stared at her in disbelief but before he could even move, Jace was in front of her. She held his gaze over her brother’s shoulder.

“Wait, wait!” Daemon warned, softly pushing his children away.

“Go to your quarters. All of you go, now.” Rhaenyra ordered.

They all walked out, Y/N getting ahead of her siblings, not wanting to speak about what had happened. Aemond had followed them out, quickly spotting her in the distance. He took a shortcut, appearing right in front of her in another corridor.

Y/N scoffed, attempting to walk around him but he grabbed her forearm tightly. “Let go.”

“No,” he retorted. “How dare you hit me, in front of everyone.”

“You know why I did it, Aemond,” Y/N hissed, still struggling to get away from his grip.

“I was speaking about them,” he told her.

“You insulted them, and me,” Y/N corrected him. “Whatever insult you throw their way still includes me.”

Aemond stammered, he truly did not wish to include her. “That was not my purpose.”

“No? And what was it? Just antagonize my brothers for fun, as revenge for what happened years ago? I still remember what you said to Luke, how he would die screaming in flames just as our father.”

He just stood there, bewildered, without saying a word. He still remembered that night perfectly, the look on her face when he said that. Y/N kept trying to remove his hand but he had other plans. Aemond grabbed her other forearm, leaving her completely at his mercy.

“Let me go,” she ordered him again. He scoffed, shaking his head.

“You are to be my wife, you will listen to me.”

“Aemond, I will only do it for the King. If he wasn't the one asking, I would be on a ship to get away from you,” Y/N confessed.

He finally let her go. Her confession stung, the Y/N he remembered would not have said that to him. Aemond did want to marry her, but the feelings he felt when he was a child had not changed. They stared at each other, no words being said.

Y/N started walking away. Her steps echo through the corridor. Her thoughts wandered, thinking about what could have been of their life if that night at Driftmark had not played out the way it did. Would they be happy right now? As she turned a corner, she looked back. Aemond stood in the same spot, he had not moved. He stared at the ground in disbelief, still replaying the conversation in his head. He truly felt like a fool for saying those things in front of her.

#hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader

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lingering-42-long · 3 months

Text

The Last Goodbye

When they are Kia

Cod characters x f! reader

Inspired by MW3 and the tragic events that occurred this will be a three-part series if I do not get writers block lol.

So sorry for the not posting as much! It’s been a really crazy month and a lot of things had happened and caused me to have a bit of a depressive episode so thank you all for being super patient!

Warnings: mentions of death

John Price

You saw it on the news first before you got the visit. Your breath hitched when you saw the news of the air strike that had hit the base where your husband of 12 years was stationed at everything was decimated. And you couldn’t call or check to make sure that he was all right as he would not have his personal cell phone with him. It wasn’t until two days after the attack did two uniformed military officers showed up at your door holding prices old hat and SAS badge and dog tags. How they got them so quickly, you weren’t sure, but the news came like a sudden wave of cold water. “ we are so sorry for your loss.” One of the officers told you. The body would be arriving shortly within a week or so for proper burial you two had purchased side-by-side grave plots. And the will was already drawn up well before all of this had happened. John was a very precise man and always make sure to think 12 steps ahead. He knew his job was rough and he knew that at any moment he could drop dead. He made sure that his life insurance would be going to you, which was some relief sense the army didn’t pay much.

How to tell your daughter, that her father was not going to be coming back. What is the worst thing you could ever do to her young heart. She was only eight years old. She adored her father practically worship the ground. He walked on. She was always his little girl, and now the war stripped her of him. Stripped you of him..

When she came home from school, you had to sit her down. You held her hands, and with tears, you told the heartbreaking news. The young girl did not understand at first on why her father wasn’t coming back, and once again, you explained that he had died in action, and he would never be able to come home you’re a little girl started to cry, and when he tried to comfort her, she bolted from your arms and ran to her room, slamming the door, and she could hear her wails. You yourself cried yourself to sleep for the first few weeks all the way up until the funeral your friends and family members gathered around you doing everything that they could to comfort you and your daughter people were calling in every single day talking with you for hours on end, while other people stopped by to bring you food.

Every day it felt like a horrifying nightmare. The one that reoccurs every single time slightly more horrifying than the last. As you were going through your stuff and trying to decide what if his you wanted to keep and what of his you wanted to donate you noticed on your phone you had gotten an email from Kate Lasswell. She had sent a video to you actually several saying in the email that he wanted you to have this and gave her explicit instructions in case if he was to ever die.

Pressing the play button, you watched as his face appeared in the camera as he sat down and smiled at you. The way, his eyes twinkled and the crows feet around them creased. “ hello dove” he started at first and you had to pause the video because you were overwhelmed with the emotions. When you stabilized yourself again, you continued. “ I know it’s been a long time since I’ve talked to you and I know that if you’re seeing this, it means that I have passed….. mission was going to be botched no matter what I just didn’t want to tell you the statistics at first…” he paused himself, as he seem to be collecting his words in his own voice was shaking “ I really wish I could come back home to you. I told you that this would be the last mission that I would do before retiring… I promise to take you out on that date that you wanted to go to that fancy restaurant.” he paused again, closing his eyes, and releasing out a large sigh.

“ I’m sorry I never got to take you…. I had so many plans to do with you and Alice… it doesn’t seem fair that I didn’t get a chance to do that” once again, you had a pause the video so that you could take a minute to cry. The plans that you had with each other right now by the wayside. You unpause did it again, and continued on listening. “ I know right now you’re depressed.” he stated, folding folding his hands, and leaning on the desk in a slightly business fashion way. “ in the email that Kate sent you there is several groups that you can join that are for the spouses of the deceased militant partner. Please join one as well as make sure our daughter also goes to one for kids. She’s going to need that support… you both are.” he smiled again, but it was a Sad smile. “ I also made sure to have a college fund started for her. You don’t have to worry about it until she’s ready. There should be plenty of money for her to attend all the way up until graduate year as long as she goes to a decent university. Make sure it’s only used for that if she chooses not to go to university or to go to a less expensive one, you can use the money to buy her a car or whatever she needs to get her life started…. I’m sorry this had all come to this…. As you know I have set aside a life insurance, and the beneficiary goes to you. I also saved up a lot of my savings as well. Feel free to use it as necessary.” he knew that you were going to be smart with the money. “ He paused and looked at you “you are my beloved…. I’m so sorry my dove that you have to face this alone. Please take care of yourself. Find a husband that loves you like I did and a good father figure for our daughter.” This made him tear up. “I will wait for you in heaven and I will watch over you both. You mean so much love. No one or nothing can separate this love. The email that is sent to you also has several videos for Alice. For her birthdays, graduation, moving out to university, marriage and their child. I made sure to make a video for all of that… I also left many for you. Please don’t hesitate to just let me listen to you… I love you.”

The video ended and you sat in the chair, Thinking things though. He set life up for you and your daughter. He was still looking after both of you. You cried for a bit before getting up and knocking on your daughters door. Your little girl opened up with tears on her face. “Hey baby… daddy sent you something.” She sniffed as you picked her up and took her to your old husband’s office. After sitting down with her in his old chair, you turned on the next video. “Hey Angel!” John’s face lit up when the camera started you could see he had been crying. “Angel, im not coming home, it’s not that I don’t want to but it’s because I got called up to heaven. I want you to do something for me my sweet, I want you to watch over momma ok? She is going to need you and you are going to need her. He glanced up as if looking at you then looked back down at his daughter. “You are such a special little girl. I love you so much. Momma has the other videos for you to watch when you grow up. I’m so so sorry to leave you like this. I did not

I did not want to go. I know you were looking forward to see me and so was I… you are my sunshine. My only sunshine.” He stated singing the song he sang when she was down or sad. “You make me happy, when sky’s are grey. You never know dear, how much I love you, so please don’t take my sunshine away…. I love you my angel.” The video ended. Your daughter looked at you. “What now?” She asked. “Well… now we do what daddy said… we do our best to move on, but not to forget him. We will be OK.” You held her as you too watched the sunset fade beneath the horizon, a beautiful white dove landed on he window, cooed and looked at you before flying off into the golden rays of the pink sky.

Simon Riley

You were cleaning in the kitchen when you heard a knock at the door. Putting the sponge back in the soapy hot water. You wiped your hands and made your way to the door. Two military officers took at the door, Solum faces as they greeted you. “Hello can I help you?” You asked

“Mrs (y/n) Riley?” One of them asked.

“Yes that is me.” You looked at them worried.

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant Simon Riley was killed in action.” The officer said gravely as he handed you a box of his things.

You took the box with tears in your eyes. The men told you that his body was found and would be returning soon. You thanked them and closed the door as you held the box tightly in your arms and sunk to the floor sobbing. Your sweet Simon. He was gone, never to come home to you and your son. You knew it was a dangerous job, but it never really hit you till now. Your husband, the man that always let you take off his mask, the man that would cuddle with you at night and rub your back after a long day, the father of your 3 month old son who he would stay up late to let you sleep. He was gone, ripped apart from you. How were you going to tell your son about his father, the man who loved his son from the moment he was born. You cried on the cold floor till you fell asleep, still holding onto the box. You woke up to the sound of your son crying in his room. Getting up, you walked and a dead sonter to his room. Tomas your son named after your husbands brother, was crying in his cradle. Carfully you picked him up and held him close. He looked so much like his daddy, blonde hair, dark blue eyes, fair skin. “Shhhhh my love” you rocked your son with tears in your eyes. “Daddy isn’t coming back.” You stated as a hiccup got you. “He loved you so much…. He loved me.” You knew your son wouldn’t remember this but it was still so sad to hold your little boy and know he would never have a father and son bonding.

You sobbed as you held onto him. Tomas sensing his mothers destress, he quieted down and cooed. After a while you fed him and put him down to bed once more. You opened the box after sitting down with a hot cup of tea, ready to take on what you needed to. With a sniffle, you opened the lid to reveal his skull mask, the dog tags that he wore, his SAS badge, and a few other things. “Oh Simon” new murmured as you carefully picked up the mask and set the box down as he traced over the lines to his skeletal features on his balaclava. It smelled like him. That rich, earthy smell, that he always seems to have with a hint of gunpowder and bourbon. It was a lingering sent, but it was a good one at that. You held the mass close as you leaned back on the couch and close your eyes. You already missed him more than you did before maybe it was because you knew that you would never see him again, to have him be in the house and be present with you and your son. You would go on with your life fine you are a tough woman, one of the many reasons to why Simon married you, but it was your son that you were worried about. You wanted your son to have a father figure. A dad that he would learn to grow up and love. Simon never had that sort of dad, and had always wanted to be that way for his own children.

Now Simon was never going to live out his dream, and Thomas, your son, was never going to have that sort of special bond. I thought made you incredibly sad once more but no tears fell, your eyes were all dried from the previous crying. The weeks came and the funeral happened, your husband looked peaceful in his casket. You wanted some alone time with him first and held his stiff, cold hand. “ Thomas will miss you… I will miss you. You were my rock and shield. It’s going to be hard without you Si… I will always love you and miss you.” The funeral took place and it was a sad time. The team of 141, your family and friends helped with whatever you needed. Now, you were cleaning out things from your late husband. As you were cleaning out his bedside table drawer, you saw a note, folded up neatly. Curious, you unfolded the lined paper and read the words on the paper.

“My dear (y/n), Birdie if you are digging in my drawer then that means I have passed, the mission was botched… I’m sorry… I know Thomas is in good hands with you. Please don’t worry about money. My account will be given to you. As I am writing this, it’s late, you’re sleeping next to me. It’s the night before we leave… I am looking at you for the last time, taking in all your beautiful details. Your face is so soft in sleep, you look so angelic. I am going to miss you… I know you will miss me too… I’m sorry I haven’t said ‘I love you’ that much. I hope you know I cherished and deeply loved you. I still do. I know you are a strong woman, that is what drew me to you. I know you will move on. If you wish, find someone who can love you and our son just as much as I loved you. I will be waiting for you when you come. I will always be watching out for you. Please don’t let our son forget me. I want him to know how much I loved him and you. I love you my Birdie, my beautiful wife. ~Simon.”

You held onto the paper and cried. This was going to be ruff. You were going to be ok. A sense of comfort filled your mind and warmth flooded your body. “I love you my Simon” you smiled and the familiar sent of him wafted and you felt his warmth envelop you.

Gaz

when the news reached you, it hurt like 1000 tiny little daggers. You had just gotten married to Gaz, your Relationship was just beginning. The two of you had been high school sweethearts. Times had gotten tough for both of you and you broke off your relationship before time being until you rekindled it once again, realizing that he was the only person for you. You had only gotten married a few months prior and just had your honeymoon before he was shipped off. Four months he was gone. And he was supposed to come back in two, however, the letter that you received told a different story. He would never be coming home. His body was blown up so badly that they couldn’t find all the pieces to him. We would do everything that they could to get the majority of him back home so that there could be some proper burial. This broke your heart. He would never get to share the life with you that you too so desperately dreamed about, a small home, somewhere on the suburbs of London with a dog, and maybe a child somewhere down the line. That was your plan at least but now things have changed, and now your beloved was gone.

It had been a few weeks since the death, and the burial of what was left at him. You had moved back in with your parents for the time being. As you were cleaning up your room, doing the best to get over your grieving you noticed a note on your bed they have been delivered by your mother earlier. Carefully you walked up to the letter and looked at it. It was addressed to you by Gaz. A sense of panic swelled in your chest. Did he really survive? Or was this some cool trick that somebody was playing? Quickly opened the envelope, and you looked at the letter the date showing that it was a month ago that he had sent this; before his death. With shaky hands, you begin to read the chicken, scratch lettering, tracing over every word, and taking to heart as if it was the gospel.

“Hey Love!

Things are crazy right now! We’re going to be going into a city not too far from here. I’ll make sure to pick up some stuff for you. I know you’ve been wanting to decorate the house for a while and I’m so excited to see what sort of projects you’ve been working on? How’s the art piece coming? I remember you telling me that you wanted to start up painting again. We always had such a pretty drawings. I have no doubt that they’re not going to be beautiful. I hope you hang them on the wall for us to see. I miss you. A part of me wishes that you were here at least the part that isn’t the most violent. Unfortunately, we’re not in the best area we are being attacked left and right. Don’t worry sweetheart. I’ll be home soon! I promise I’ll fix the leaky faucet. I know it’s been driving you crazy. I I sent a letter to my folks, but could you tell them that I miss them as well? I want them to know how much I miss them, but I think I miss you the most. When I get back can we get a dog? Also, can we have like a full day of playing video games just with you and me? I know I sound like I’m rambling, but it’s just what’s on my mind recently. Late night cuddles with you while playing Mario kart. It just sounds so relaxing right now. I’m really tired. Well sweetheart, I better get to bed. I love you and I hope that you have an amazing day tomorrow and the next and the next after that.

Your Husband,

Gaz”

Hugging the letter, you cried your eyes out. Tears streaming down your face as you laid on the bed, holding onto the last remnant of what your husband left you. It sounded as if he was somewhere in a safer, better place. You hoped that he died quickly that he didn’t suffer and his last thoughts were good thoughts. A breeze drifted into the room from your open window and a warm bit of sunshine hit your cheek as the breeze drifted passed it felt like a stroke on your soft face. He was there sitting beside you, even though you couldn’t see it, you could feel his presence. He was safe and he was watching over you.

Johnny McTavish

The news has gotten to you quickly. It was actually delivered by Price himself. You couldn’t believe it. Your Scottish highland your man was no longer going to come home to you. He was shot through the head. Taking a bullet to save a life. Your young son, John, named after his father, was going to be home from school soon the devastating news hurt you more than anything else out there. How are you going to tell your six-year-old son that he was not gonna have his daddy near anymore? Who was going to play football with him in the yard? Who is going to read bedtime stories? Who is going to play in the rain with him? Your son needed his father that boy looked up to his dad, like he was the sun, its self. The news hurt you hard calling his parents and his family was going to be hard as well if they had an already heard the news. He was close with everybody and his family and he had quite a large family.

The upcoming days to the Memorial as you wish to have been cremated, were hard and brutal. Everybody that you knew, and your friends and his family all gave their condolences to you and to each other he was loved and well liked by everyone your son took it hard he didn’t understand why his dad wasn’t coming home and cried and cried and cried it was like that for almost a whole week, he was doing so bad that you had to pull him out of school for the time being because he was unable to function properly. You did everything you could you hold him tight in your arms until he cried himself to sleep at night in which you also cried your own silent tears. You would go walk on the open, Highlands that overlooked the beautiful scenery where your husband, his father’s ashes, cast out upon the open landscape. A small memorial was placed there in memory. You would have picnics out there are frequently, simply listening to the birds call from high above and feel the warm sun cast It’s beautiful rays. They felt cold and dull to you, but you did your best to hold out for your son.

Cleaning out the closet with all of his stuff. What is your next task as you were taking some of his old stuff down you noticed a hard drive they had fallen out of one of his pockets with your name on it. Curious, you took the hard drive and you plugged it into your laptop. It open the file which had a video and it. You clicked play.

The video with your husband sitting on the couch in your living room, smiling at you “Hello my bonne Lass. if yer seeing this then ye know what happened and I don’t think I need ta say anymore abou tha’. I am so sorry that I cannot be with Yer. I love ye so much. I love our son John so much. Please remind hem’ every day how much I love him. Please play football with hem as much as ye can. Please read to hem every night fer me. I know it’s a lot ta ask with what’s going on but I think it might be good fer both of ya ta share tha’ quality time. I’m gonna miss ye both, but I’m always going te be with yer. I’m always going to be watching over mo little family. Don’t worry Lass, life insurance should cover a huge portion of everything. Hopefully it can help provide some security fer you and fer John. I also have tha’ university fund ye wanted me ta set up fer him. Let the money grow and add te it. If ye want by the time he turns 18 he can open that account. The files are actually in my cabinet on the right side of the desk. It has all the important paperwork and documentaries yer gonna need. I really wish I was there with ya Lass. I’m going to miss holding you at night and whispering I love yous.” His beautiful eyes stared right back at you with his stupid little mohawk and broad shoulders facing the camera. “ I know you got this, please don’t ferget about me, but I do want you moving on. Find a man that makes yer heart is happy to be with as it was with meh. I know it’s a lot ta ask for, and I’m not expecting ye ta get married right this instant… I want ta see ye happy I want to see you taken care of. I love ye, my princess.” he reached over to turn off the device that he was using, and the video ended abruptly. A new wave of tears hit your face as you laid your head on the desk and cried for the fifth or sixth time in the past few days. Your son came in the room and gently touched your shoulder. “It’s OK mama! Daddy’s going to be with us. He’s just going to be invisible.” he was quoting some thing that you had told him. When you had to break the news to John, you had told him that the angels up in heaven needed his daddy to help fight the battle up there because he was so good at his job. One day he would be able to meet his daddy up there as well. Now John had taken this to heart and there’s now quoting this in hopes to make you feel better. You carefully picked up your son and held him close to you. “ you know you’re the best against your father had ever giving me? When you were born, he had tears in his eyes and he was hugging you and kissing all over your face and just absolutely doting on you 24 seven. He told me how proud he was of you. He told me how proud he was of me. Those were good times.” Your son gently hold you tight in his own little arms. “ it’s OK mama will make it out together.” You could almost feel a kiss on your forehead as if…. As if your husband was leaning over to comfort you.

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letters2won · 3 months

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GOOD 4 U!

03; Bewitched

Your legs bounces up and down as the realization hits you.

You’re not a regretful person. You don’t regret accidentally taking a raccoon home instead of your beloved dog or how you showed a Jacob Elordi edit in front of your English class when you meant to present your presentation on “The Outsiders”.

But fake dating? not your smartest idea…

You have to be crazy for suggesting it. You have to be even crazier to agree to it. But what do you expect from a down bad admirer and a girl who wishes to move on?

The adored cat-like boy sitting across from you, felt his hands get sweaty. He knows you’re here to lay out some ground rules, but this was basically a date in his eyes!

You two sat in awkward silence, unsure on how to start the conversation. “Can’t believe your ex hates my guts… I'm just a silly little guy!” he joked out and you let a giggle slip out.

After that small joke he made, you guys were able to relax and have a smooth conversation. Jungwon even managed to started a debate on how cats were better than dogs.

“You’re literally betraying your own dog right now!” you said through fits of giggles. He was laughing alongside you as he ate the shared cake you guys got.

Soon after you two were full off of sweets and had calmed down, deciding it was best to start the rules as you see the sun setting.

“How should we go about this..?” he began, trying to hide his excitement.

You pondered for a minute before responding, “Rule number one! Don’t fall in love!”

Jungwon's smile falters a little before he proceeds to roll his eyes, “Seriously? Am I not your type?” he teased.

“Maybe if you were Choso..” you seriously considered and he glared at you.

“Of course you’re a Jujutsu Kaisen fan.. it all makes sense now.”

“HEY?!”

You huffed and then continued, “Oh another one! Rule number two, we hold hands and give each cheek kisses to make it believable!”

Jungwon's eyes widened. He only ever imagined giving you small pecks of kisses, he can’t believe his manifestations are coming true right now. You on the other hand can’t believe you really came up with that. Feeling embarrassed, you moved on rather quickly.

“Oh! I got one! Rule number three, only our close friends will know the truth.”

“Do we have to let them in on our plans..” he mumbled.

“Well yea! I suck at lying, I even got a whole medal at home for being the worst liar in school!” which you stated a little too proudly. He should’ve questioned that but he didn’t, instead he gave you a love sick smile and sighed dreamily, “You’re so talented…”

“Rule number four, We go on dates every friday or saturday!”

Jungwon added on, “We should also always go to each events..” and you weighed the pros and cons of that. For a second, you almost forgot that this was your student council president that was going along with everything that you were saying.

He plays such an important role for the school yet here you are dragging him into your little petty revenge plan on your ex without an incentive.

“Jungwon, what do you want to benefit from this? I feel kind of selfish for only thinking about my side of the plan..”

He let out a hum before giving you his famous dimpled smile which has you bewitched. “I want to spend more time with you in all of this.”

There it is again, that funny feeling. Something about Jungwon is making your heart do somersaults and cartwheels. You’re still confused about what's happening and tried to push it aside. You never felt like this with your ex so why now?

You cleared your throat after realizing you were staring at him with a dumbfounded look for a good moment, “O-oh okay! Easy peasy!”

He let out a breathy laugh as you tried acting nonchalant, shifting in your seat feeling your face get hot. “Moving on! For the last rule…hm.” You two started thinking hard, almost felt like your thinking caps were going to explode any second now.

You gasped and gave him a wide smile, “ Rule number five, every Thursday you watch the new Jujutsu Kaisen episode with me.” He gave you a deadpanned look.

“I’m not watching Jujutsu Kaisen with you.”

“Please! None of my friends wants to watch or hear my thoughts and since you’re my soon to be boyfriend you have to tune in to my rant sessions about them!” you rambled on, giving him those expecting wide eyes.

Jungwon was gone. He had officially lost it. Soon to be boyfriend? Yeah, he’s agreeing with everything you're saying from now on.

“I’ll do anything you ask me from now on queen!”

Oh boy… he is down bad.

PREV ✩ MASTERLIST ✩ NEXT

╰┈➤ this feels kind of rushed… i hope you guys enjoyed </3

SYNOPSIS in which you’re DEFINITELY not upset that your ex moved on really easily (spoiler alert: you are!). Yang Jungwon, the student council president is glad your ex moved on because it’s time for him to shoot his shot (just not in the way he wanted.. a win is a win in his book!)

TAGLIST < open > @firstclassjaylee @sincerelyrki @w0nslvr @poollabug @mrchweeee @nanuer @jwonistic @nyfwyeonjun @jiamini

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moonah-rose · 2 months

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It's kinda funny when people ask me about CBS Ghosts, I usually tell them to give the first six episodes a go, and to try not to be put off by the first two-parter. Because those first two episodes do have a lot of forced jokes, a lot of shot for shot scenes of the UK pilot which feel badly copy and pasted, and a bit too much toilet humor. I almost quit the show after the first two hander and then decided to give it another chance and am glad I did because the show does find its own identity pretty quick after that.

But what's interesting is that, I had a similar experience with the UK version. I did NOT like the show at all on first viewing. My best friend suggested we watch it, I sat through the first three episodes and thought...."meh". Like the plague ghosts got a chuckle out of me but not much else. And I HATED the main ghosts. So much. It kinda had the opposite problem to the US version, while the characters there felt too flat and cheesy, the UK ghosts felt way too mean - not even in a fun way like Red Dwarf or Blackadder. Like the first episode is fine, but in the second one they are all basically torturing a woman who literelly just got out of the hospital after barely surviving - because of them! With the exception of Pat and Kitty, I really didn't want to like any of these guys. And then the third episode, even when they stop tormenting Alison, I found them trying to set the builders up really cringy and a little uncomfortable, especially the scene with planting Alison's wedding ring. These episodes work great on rewatch to see how far the ghosts and Alison's relationship with them develops, but at the time I just wasn't enjoying the show so stopped after that. But my friend continued and kept saying it was amazing.

So a few months later I decide to give it one more try and the next episode up was Free Pass. I think this episode, while not the strongest of S1, is very underrated because this is what won me over and kept me watching. And I think it's because this is the episode where the ghosts are not just annoying assholes. We get to see them as actual people being excited and interested in the film crew. Aside from Robin messing with the lights, the ghosts aren't really a hindrance to anything. Instead it's where we see that Alison is just as unhinged and morally grey as they are - willing to put people at risk in her unstable house for the sake of making some money. The whole thing about her winding Mike up with her celeb crush is also funny and cute. It's also interesting to learn that this was the first episode the guys filmed and you can kinda feel that buzz of them all being excited to start and how it bleeds over into the episode. After that I was hooked.

#cbs ghosts #bbc ghosts

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scoobydoodean · 2 months

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Do you have siblings, and what order are you in?

How do you view and feel about Sam running away multiple times, and then in 5.16 Sam running away are the only memories he's given? (and do you think angels did that purposefully?)

I am the younger of two and I understand how Sam can run away and how it would only be about getting away from their, but that Dean would feel the brunt of it all. But I can totally imagine my older sibling understanding Dean, but not necessarily Sam's pov.

I also don't think Sam's reasoning is ever fully explained, at least in 5.16, it makes him seem much more selfish and uncaring. I think he assumed Dean was better equipped to handle living with their dad alone simply because he behaved, it just happened to be that Dean and dad were linked - and I don't really know how much they talked about their relationship with their dad till they were older.

I wonder if Dean ever would've considered leaving John and living somewhere near Sam, or even running away with Sam.

I have three siblings. I'm in the middle. Two older siblings and the caboose is 7 years younger than me. So I remember what it's like to be the baby but I also know what it's like to play older sibling to a sibling several years younger than me. My younger brother and I are also very close.

If this was all prompted by my comment the other day that I wasn't looking forward to watching "Dark Side of the Moon", I don't dislike the episode because it shows Sam running off. I do have issues with the episode, but a large part of my distaste for it is that it is generally very depressing. It being depressing in of itself isn't a criticism of the episode—it's supposed to be depressing because it's about total loss of hope and belief for Dean (and then Cas as well losing hope at the end of the episode). It's doing what it's supposed to do in that sense. It's just hard to watch. Unfortunately, a lot of people take the bleakness of it and the idea that Dean is a burden and etc as truth and not manipulation meant to drive him to say "yes", and that also makes me rather sour about it.

I don't care that Sam wanted to go to college, or that he was happy at another family's thanksgiving at one point in his life. The Flagstaff memory bothers me a little because Sam's fond recollection of it, unmarred by any negative associations, clearly suggests he didn't face any consequences for running off once John found him. The fact that he never even into his adult life considered that Dean might have faced consequences does feel rather self-centered, and that's on purpose. I don't care that Sam went to school or that there were points as a kid where he wanted to run off.

I do disagree with the premise that Sam still desires some normal core Thanksgiving. I simply don't think that would be a favorite memory for Sam anymore. Just a few episodes prior to this, in "Swap Meat", Sam sat down with someone else's family for a normal, family dinner and he hated it. He found Gary's parents absolutely obnoxious. He told Gary afterward that he envied his life, only to turn to Dean and say he lied.

SAM I totally lied. That kid's life sucked ass. All that apple-pie, family crap? It's stressful. Trust me – we didn't miss a damn thing.

Or observe earlier in the episode:

DEAN You ever think that you'd want something like that? Wife, rugrats, the whole nine? SAM No, not really my thing anymore.

In fact, it's Dean who envies the normal life in "Swap Meat" and several other episodes (ex: 2.20, 4.19) whereas Sam indicates several times that a normal life is not something he wants (2.02, 2.10, 2.20, 4.08, 4.19, 5.12). In 4.08 and in 2.20, Sam in fact overtly states that he would not go back and choose a normal life now if he could go back. In 3.01, 4.19, and in 5.06, Sam also heavily emphasizes the importance of family within the hunting dynamic. I track a lot of this within the tag #sam the hunter.

I think there is a strong argument to be made that Zachariah ran them through heaven like rats in a maze in 5.16, directing them toward certain memories and not others in order to make Dean believe that Sam doesn't care for him (I have a separate post to make about this in more detail). However, I don't believe Zachariah forced in memories that aren't "greatest hits". I think he just drove them away from any happy memories Sam has with Dean and toward ones where Sam grasped independence from John, misappropriated to make Dean feel Sam doesn't care about Dean or appreciate/recognize his sacrifices (the former is not true, but the latter is in fact true in many cases).

Note though that when Joshua arrives and takes them to heaven's garden:

SAM: This is heaven’s Garden? DEAN: It’s-it’s nice… ish. I guess. JOSHUA: You see what you want to here. For some it’s God’s throne room; for others it’s Eden. You two, I believe it’s the Cleveland Botanical Gardens. You came here on a field trip.

So right there, we have a shared favorite memory, right after (presumably) any potential influence Zachariah had on what memories they were seeing was eliminated.

What primarily irritates me about this episode and many other Dabb/Loflin episodes is their perpetual need to insert the narrative that Sam wants a normal life he explicitly states he does not want over and over and over in everyone else's episodes, while they write Dean as someone who says things like "I mean, we’re supposed to be a team. It’s supposed to be you and me against the world, right?" It implies a sort of desperation vs apathy that, even when contradicted in subtler ways, I just don't find interesting... And yet they seem to harp on the same dramatic "misunderstanding" over and over and over for all eternity. And Dabb continues it after cutting ties with Loflin. In fact he continues to toy with these obnoxious dramatics to the very end of the series in a way I find unbelievably tired and obnoxious and I resent it. He's the same one-trick pony when it comes to his ideas on Dean and Cas conflicts in the later seasons.

As to your last bit there: Dean did consider running off. We see this in "Bad Boys", and in that episode, we also see that Dean doesn't end up abandoning their family because he felt Sam needed him. We hear a similar narrative in regards to John in 1.06 from the mouth of the shifter—that Dean had dreams of his own, but Dean felt that John needed him, so Dean stayed. John echoes this when he says that he was an emotional wreck and Dean took care of him (2.01). We see Dean also taking care of Mary in "Dark Side of the Moon" after she gets off the phone with John, upset. 5.16 casts Dean as someone perpetually sacrificing his own needs for his family, but unappreciated all the while. In fact, Sam doesn't recognize any of his sacrifices. Dean is nothing more than a blood offering on the altar of family. Zachariah intends this narrative and leans into it heavily in the scene where he explicitly manipulates what Sam and Dean are seeing.

MARY: Don’t you walk away from me. I never loved you. You were my burden. I was shackled to you. Look what it got me. The worst was the smell. The pain, well. What can you say about your skin bubbling off? But the smell was so… You know, for a second I thought I’d left a pot roast burning in the oven. But… it was my meat. And then, finally, I was dead. The one silver lining was that at least I was away from you.

Zachariah has Mary speak about Dean being a burden to his family and to her, but it's potentially more layered than "Dean has abandonment issues". What Mary says about being shackled to Dean—being burdened by her child—firmly recollects Dean's claim to Cas in 5.03 that he's chained to his family through responsibility, and that finally being away from Sam is a relief. This fake Mary says death was her escape from similar chains of responsibility to her loved ones. It was the only escape. Burned up and dead but finally free. There's an implication there that Dean can finally escape responsibility in a similar way, and in two episodes, Dean is going to try and escape by saying "Yes".

#5.12 #5.16 #writer disk horse #family chains #mail #dabb disk horse

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tokkibbang00 · 1 year

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WHY CAN'T WE BE FRIENDS? - C. YEONJUN (TEASER)

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS, DO NOT INTERACT. UNEDITED.

synopsis: Being caught in a series of scandals and controversies, Yeonjun's company has had enough of his attitude problems and finally decides to send him off to university. Despite his arguments towards management, he has no choice but to follow them or else he can kiss his modeling career goodbye. You're a fashion major attending university. You'd think you'd be delighted hearing the news about a famous model coming into your department, but as soon as you were seated beside him in one of your classes, you'd soon come to realize that you absolutely hated his guts

rating: (n)sfw

pairing: model!choi yeonjun x fashion major!afab reader

genre: college!au, enemies to lovers!au, kinda angsty, reader and yeonjun are idiots.

warnings: cursing, yeonjun's kind of an asshole at first, mentions of alcohol, suggestive, (will add more when the full story is posted)

a/n: i was originally planning on posting my han jisung fic first but i got so excited about this one that i knew that i just had to post this. i was also writing a part 2 of a certain fic, but that's a conversation for some other time 👀 I'm currently working on 3-5 fics but I'm also taking in requests!! Feel free to message me or Dm me~ Enjoy the teaser and watch out for the full fic in a week or two 💙

teaser posted: 05-18-23

MODEL CHOI YEONJUN RUMORED TO BE DATING WORLD-STAR IDOL HUH YUNJIN... AND MODEL JEON SOMI?

CHOI YEONJUN SEEN BAR HOPPING THREE NIGHTS IN A ROW IN ITAEWON

CHOI YEONJUN'S EXPLOSIVE EPISODE ON PAPARAZZIS. READ HERE !!!

BAD HABITS AND BAD ATTITUDE? INSIDER WHO WORKED WITH CHOI YEONJUN SPILLS IT ALL!!

Seungjin's eyebrows meet at the middle as his forehead starts showing lines and wrinkles, obvious dissatisfaction etched on his face. His fingers were rubbing his temples out of frustration while he continued to read article after article about their oh-so-beloved model, Choi Yeonjun.

The CEO sat at the end of the table, his back leaning on the chair while he reads along with Seungjin on his iPad.

Every article has been stating one common issue— Yeonjun's superiority complex and attitude problems.

The company already knew about this... issue, before the articles came to surface and has warned the young man every time.

He never listened.

Now here they are, reaping the consequences of the man's actions. They did all that they can to scold him, reprimand him, and even cover for him. Nothing ever stopped Yeonjun.

At the other end of the table, Yeonjun had his legs up on top of the meeting table and his back resting on the chair. His fingers brush his slicked back hair, making strands fall down his face.

The only sound you'd hear around the room was his loud chewing from his gum and his pen tapping.

The CEO, Shihyuk, let out a sigh, placing his iPad down. His elbows were perched on top of the table as he rested his chin on his hands that was clasped together.

“Yeonjun, I'm guessing you know why we've called you and Seungjin here today... Right?”

The young man raised an eyebrow, a small smirk forming on his face. He puts his feet back down on the floor and copied Shihyuk's posture on the table.

“I don't know Sir Bang. You tell me.” Yeonjun teased, “I've been nothing but the perfect role model as far as I can see!” He said sarcastically.

Shihyuk wasn't phased by him at all. A stern look remained on his face as he continues the conversation.

“We have been thinking of ways to better your reputation.”

“Oh? Do enlighten me, please.” Yeonjun held himself back from rolling his eyes. He has heard things like these more than a hundred times already. “It's not like most of those articles are fake and heavily fabricated.”

He was confident that his company would cover for him or would keep shut.

On the contrary, Shihyuk and the PR team has seen the increase of negative articles towards the model. They knew that keeping quiet or finding a cover up will not work anymore.

Shihyuk cleared his throat, a small smile creeping on his face. It was his turn to be smug.

“We have decided to send you to University.”

Every ounce of confidence that was evident on Yeonjun's face immediately disappeared. His eyebrows immediately furrow while his jaw prominently clenching.

“What. The. Fuck.”

TBC.

NOTE: Characters presented do not represent anyone mentioned in the story. This is a work of fiction and is not real.

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unknownfacelessfanfictions · 8 months

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Warning

Fandom: Star Trek : Strange New Worlds Pairing: Hemmer x Counselor! fem! Reader Words: 3.9K Warnings: A bit of swearing Summary: They had an agreement that everytime Chris sent a very attractive person to the counselor office, he would warn her beforehand. Apparently they have a different understanding of attractive A/N: Don't take this too seriously. Also, I just watched the first three episodes of season 1 so if anything is not fitting with canon, forget it

@bigblissandlove1 I don't know if you have seen Strage New Worlds yet, so I just did it

Chris didn't know why or how he had done it this time, but he had fucked up, which he was more than aware of as he walked down the corridor.

To be honest, he wasn't really used to being ordered to a person, as this was mostly his job. Of course, M'Benga had called him to sickbay several times and a few times he had been called to the engine room, but he had usually known what the problem was.

Now, however, on his way to the counsellor's office, he had no idea what he had done. All he knew was that she had sounded anything but happy with him, which was reason enough to run in the opposite direction and hope that she would not find him.

He stopped in front of her door and took another deep breath before pressing the button and waiting. Moments later, the doors slid aside and Chris hesitantly entered.

She was already waiting for him. Instead of a blue uniform top, she wore a blue uniform jacket over a black top and leaned against her desk with her arms folded and a falsely sweet smile that was enough to send a shiver down his spine.

"You wanted to see me?"

For a long time she remained silent and simply looked at him, which slowly caused him to turn under her gaze.

Sedately, she sat down on the edge of her table and crossed her legs. "Can I ask you something, Christopher?"

Oh he had screwed up so badly. A bead of fear sweat ran down the back of his neck.

'Christopher' was reluctantly used by her, only when she had to lecture him.

Actually he didn't really want to answer her, however he knew he couldn't escape his end.

"Yes?"

She jutted her chin. "You remember that agreement we made years ago in that dodgy bar."

Slowly the nervousness faded and gave way to confusion. Of course he remembered that agreement, after all she had even insisted on writing it down and having them both sign it "Yes."

"Do me a favour and tell me again what it was about."

Chris blushed slightly. He wasn't embarrassed, but they were working and it really didn't belong there.

"Is this really necessary?"

"Christopher."

"Okay." He raised his hands defensively.

"We decided that in case I had a ... slightly late night and showed up late for duty, you would cover for me."

He wasn't particularly proud of having made this agreement and felt bad that they were thus indirectly exploiting her medical authority, however it had been useful to him too many times for the shame to be too great.

"Right." She propped her chin on her hand as her eyes bored into his. "And what was the other part of that deal?"

Chris sighed. "That in case I ever sent a, and I quote, 'to-die-for Adonis-like person' to you, I'd give you advance notice."

"Very well." She regarded him eagle-eyed and stood up slowly, causing him to take a step back. "And tell me, Christopher, have I ever left you hanging? Have I ever failed to keep my end of this bargain?"

Slowly he shook his head. Nervousness had now completely given way to confusion. "Not as far as I know."

Her forced smile disappeared and turned into an angry grimace. "And what, then, gives you the fucking right to not hold up your end?!"

"Woah!" He threw his hands up defensively again. "I don't know what you're talking about! I've always given a warning."

"Except today!"

"Today?"

"Yes, today! The day I wore that crumpled uniform from the back corner of my closet and my hair just looks unwashed and messy."

Chris took a step back. "I think there's been a misunderstanding. I definitely didn't send an Aphrodite or an Adonis to you."

"Of course you did!" Her face darkened with the blood rushing to her face in excitement.

"The only person I sent because he was new was Lieutenant Hemmer. Otherwise I ... oh." He saw her avoid his gaze and a smirk climbed his lips.

"Oh."

"Shut up."

She turned, though it was now up to Chris not to give in.

"Really now? Hemmer? You're not joking, are you?"

"Do I look like I'm joking," she hissed back, causing his grin to grow even wider. He settled down on the couch. "Oh heavens, you're serious." He laughed out. "Who'd have thought our new chief engineer had it in him like that."

Chris bit his tongue to suppress the grin. "I'm afraid you and I have a different picture of Adonis after all, don't we? No offence to the Lieutenant

With a frustrated groan, she dropped down beside him. "I hate you." He put an arm around her shoulder. "No you don't. But really now, all kidding aside, was it that bad? I didn't think Hemmer could do it to you that bad."

There was a reason they had made this agreement. She was, always had been actually, incredibly nervous around people she found attractive.

The more she found herself attracted to them, the worse, which was why Chris had let her know every time there was a possible candidate who might catch her attention, so that her professionalism wouldn't be questioned.

So far, though, it had only really been necessary once, and Chris really hadn't thought Hemmer was her type. Her partners, male, female and everything in between, had so far been ... different.

At least he couldn't remember a single grumpy, sarcastic and slightly cynical partner.

"It hadn't been this bad in a long time." She buried her face in her hands in shame, all anger forgotten. "I'm so incredibly embarrassed, I could die."

Chris patted her back in an attempt to reassure her. "I don't think it was that bad."

"Oh yes it was. It was."

It beeped, signifying that her last "patient" for the day had arrived.

"Come in." She heard the doors open and a person step into her office while she was in the next room trying to move a box to one of the shelves. Her patient before only managed to concentrate when she was playing board games with him, so she was now trying to put them away.

"Doctor?" She smiled when she heard his voice. It was pleasant and very welcome after an hour and a half with the Ensign whose nasal, high-pitched voice had given her a headache.

"Lieutenant Hemmer, isn't it? Side room, I'll be there in a sec." She sounded strained as she pushed the box further up. Footsteps sounded behind her and she could feel the man's presence behind her.

"That is correct. Do you need any assistance?"

She groaned softly, planning to rearrange her storage space on her day off. "That would be nice."

Hemmer stepped behind her so she could feel his warmth radiating through his uniform, and reached over her with his arm, helping her slide the box into the compartment before stepping back to let her have her space.

"Thanks. I really need to reorganise, this is getting really ridiculous..." She broke off as she turned around.

Oh God help her.

She had gathered from the brief information on his file that he was their chief engineer and belonged to the Aenar species and although she hadn't seen many, she was pretty sure it couldn't get any more attractive.

He was slightly taller than her, not by much, and slightly more athletically built than normal, though not nearly as much as Chris. His white hair fell fluffily into his face, causing an urge in her to run her hands through it as his antennae swayed serenely back and forth.

His eyes were milky white, which was impossibly beautiful at that moment, he had a rather dominant jaw and she was sure she could cut herself on his cheekbones if she slid her finger across.

She had a problem. A big, attractive, white problem.

A slight chuckle, much more a breathy laugh, from Hemmer brought her out of her thoughts and she felt her face grow warm.

"I'd recommend it. That, or you stop loading the boxes so much that you can't lift them over your head."

She nodded slightly and held out her hand to him. "I believe you already know my name, Lieutenant. It's a pleasure to meet you."

For a few moments he regarded her outstretched hand and a slight panic spread through her.

Damn it, Aenar didn't shake hands. She had made a complete ass of herself and exposed herself right in front of him. She absolute idiot. She was good for nothing. Nothing!

Hesitantly, she began to withdraw her hand again when Hemmer reached for it. His hand was surprisingly warm and a little rough to the touch, though not uncomfortable under any circumstances and she had to pull herself together not to blush completely.

"Likewise." Was it just her, or had his vocal pitch just gone down a notch? Oh, she was fucked.

Smiling slightly, she looked up at him and although his expression was friendly-neutral, she thought she saw a spark of mischief flit across his face.

She swallowed and gestured to the room behind them. "Shall we sit down? I think this is a bit more comfortable."

Hemmer hummed in agreement, turned and returned to her office. She took a deep breath in and out and closed her eyes for a moment.

She was so going to kill Chris for not giving her a warning.

"Would you like something to drink? Tea? Coffee? Um... water?"

Hemmer, meanwhile, had made himself comfortable on the sofa, crossed his legs and seemed to be looking at her with a mixture of curiosity, amusement and surprise. Or she was imagining it, since he was blind and she was nervous.

"Coffee. Black, please." She nodded, grateful to have something to do, and scurried to the corner of her office where, at her request, a small kitchenette had been installed. "Caffeine this late in the evening?"

"Night shift," he returned and she winced inwardly as the water ran through the coffee filter. "I hope you hadn't gotten up too early for me." She glanced over her shoulder. "Otherwise, you could have asked for another appointment. I'm here to be a conversational partner, not to deprive you of sleep."

Hemmer leaned back a little. "It's not a problem. Otherwise you would have had to get up in the middle of the night. We don't want that either."

She had to turn around to keep from blushing again. This was getting really ridiculous.

"With all due respect, Lieutenant," she said, pouring water into her cup, strictly focused on not burning herself, because that would be just what she needed. "In an emergency, I think a sleep deprived chief engineer is a little more dangerous than a sleep deprived therapist."

The coffee and her tea were ready, so she did her best to set both cups down safely at the small table, but Hemmer seemed to be doing his best to upset her. "You sell yourself too low. I've heard you're a brilliant woman and and I'd really hate to put bags under those eyes."

As soon as his compliment reached her brain, even if it was more quote than compliment, it seemed to short circuit as her right hand, still holding her tea, gave a little jerk and the contents spilled over the edge and landed on the table, as well as her hand.

"Holy shit," she cursed and waved her hand around, her face contorted into a pained grimace.

Hemmer sat up straighter, his antennae straight up in attention. "Doctor, do you need-"

"It's all right," she pressed out between her teeth, trying to smile.

'Stupid handsome Hemmer, why do you have to be so impossibly cute so I make a complete ass of myself.'

"It's alright. Happens all the time." She reached under the table and whipped out a cloth, it really had happened to her before and she was prepared to wipe up the liquid. In mid-motion, however, Hemmer grabbed the cloth. "Let me do that. You need to cool your hand under cold water."

Unfortunately, his hand had grazed hers and, startled by the contact, she had not been prepared for skin-to-skin contact with the handsome man, she took a step back, tripped over the table and fell to the floor with a loud grunt.

"Ohhh," she moaned and held her head, forgetting that her hand had been burned and hissing at the contact between burn blisters and hair.

Instantly Hemmer was at her side, looking at her with concern. At least she thought he did.

"Doctor are you all right?" Fuck, why did his voice have to be so soft if he was concerned?

"I'm fine," she returned again, hoping to at least somewhat still save face, though she knew that was a lie.

Her ankle throbbed, her hand ached and she was pretty sure the room wasn't supposed to be spinning.

"Doctor!"

Her gaze zoomed back to his face, which was so close she could have counted his eyelashes. Now that her view of his eyes was better, she corrected herself from before.

They weren't milky white, no. Much more they reminded her of molten silver, shiny and smooth, soft and hard at the same time.

Like the reflection of a full moon in still waters, mysterious, close and yet at the same time so impossibly distant from her.

She was also pretty sure she might have had a mild concussion.

Above her, she heard Hemer sigh before he took her by the arm and helped her up.

As soon as her left foot touched the ground, however, she gasped and clawed at Hemmer, who, to his credit, took it without pulling a face.

"I think I sprained my ankle."

"Okay." Hemmer tried to sound calm, which made her feel bad. After all, the poor man just wanted to do his job and in order to do that, he had to just hold a brief conversation with a Counselor to begin with.

"I think it's best if we take you to the infirmary first so M'Benga can look at your foot."

She nodded, through clenched teeth. Hemmer carefully put her arm around his shoulder and wrapped his arm around her waist to steady her, making the short walk to the infirmary that seemed so impossibly long to her at that moment.

Silence reigned between them, for which she was very grateful, because the only thing she could focus on was his body pressed tightly against hers, his hair brushing her cheek, his hand holding hers and his arm wrapped around her waist as his other hand dug gently but firmly into her flesh.

To be honest, she was glad she was still breathing when M'Benga and Chapel took her from him, although she instantly felt the loss of Hemmer's body heat.

M'Benga and Chapel moved her to one of the beds and immediately Hemmer appeared behind them to watch them.

Secretly, she found it very touching that he stayed by her side while she was being treated instead of returning to work, though his presence distracted her from answering Chapel's questions.

The latter, however, only acknowledged her embarrassment with a knowing grin and a wiggle of her eyebrows, which made the blood rush to her face again.

"Sprained ankle, second degree burns and a mild concussion," she grinned at her and shook her head. "That's news even to you." Chapel patted her on the shoulder. "Take it a little easier, will you? If the pain gets too bad, come back for more, okay?"

She nodded and Chapel disappeared, leaving her and Hemmer alone.

"I'm sorry," she murmured softly. "This is probably not how you imagined your evening ... or morning, as the case may be."

"A trip to sickbay wasn't on my list, no. However, a little excitement can't hurt."

She smiled weakly at his attempt to cheer her up.

Sweet, dear Hemmer. Too good for this world.

He cleared his throat slightly and glanced to the side as his antennae rippled slightly.

"I'm afraid my shift is about to start and we won't be able to have our conversation today." She nodded in understanding and smiled slightly at him.

"It's understandable. How about this: You didn't really strike me as being unfit for duty, which is why I don't need to have any urgent conversations with you. You work your shift and I'll try to schedule a second appointment as soon as possible, yeah? That probably makes a little more sense, as you've had time to settle in and get to know the rhythm of the ship. If there are any urgent questions: I am always available."

Hemmer raised one of his eye ridges. "Even at night?"

She grinned slightly, relieved to find that she was slowly getting over the fact that she felt very attached to Hemmer. Which professionally was an absolute disaster, however she didn't think about that now.

"If I have to, I'll sit in my office in my pyjamas, completely drowsy, to ease your worries."

"I hope it won't come to that." Hemmer bowed his head slightly. "I wish you a good rest."

"Thank you. You have a pleasant shift." He nodded and left, giving her a glimpse of his back.

Had he had such broad shoulders before or was the uniform just a little small?

Strangely, Hemmer stumbled at that very moment and almost fell down as he left the infirmary.

"You really sprained your ankle and got a concussion yesterday because you found someone attractive? Oh man, I think I'm going to have to look closer when I send someone your way soon."

Groaning, she buried her face in his chest. "Keep it down Chris and rather tell me how I'm ever going to face him again."

"Well you'll have to eventually, after all you still have your talk to do."

Frustrated, she threw a pillow in his face. "No help, Chris!"

He laughed and raised his hands. "You should have just come to the dinners. Hemmer was always there and you didn't even have to talk to him then."

Scowling, she stared at him. "First of all, still no help. Secondly, it's not my fault you always put your dinners when I have appointments."

Chris patted her back. "I don't think it's that bad. I haven't known him long, but I don't think Hemmer would hold it against you. At most he finds it amusing, nothing more. Just talk to him, apologise again. Maybe invite him to dinner."

"Chris!" This time her exclamation was accompanied with laughter as she broke away from him.

"What, you seem to like him more than most. At least you haven't twisted your ankle over any of them."

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "That would be far too unprofessional. I'm practically the ship's therapist. I'm not allowed to do things like that."

"As long as it stays professional, if it has to."

Chris shrugged before sighing. "Look, I can't tell you what to do because I don't know. However, I do know, for one thing, that Hemmer doesn't think any worse of you for this, and for another, that it's late and you desperately need something to eat. So shoo-' He pulled her up and hustled her towards the door. "Off to the canteen with you."

Sighing, she gave in. "Anything else I should probably know so I don't embarrass myself further in front of him?" Chris thought for a moment, then shook his head.

"No, not that I know of."

~**~

She poked listlessly at her food, resting her head on the back of her hand, when suddenly someone stepped up beside her. "May I join you for a moment?"

Instantly she was awake and shot up at the sound of Hemmer's voice. The latter was standing beside her table, a PADD in his hand, looking at her expectantly:

"Of course, Lieutenant." She pointed to the seat opposite her. "Please, sit down."

He nodded and complied with her request. "Hemmer only, please. We are not on duty." "Likewise."

Hemmer nodded in acknowledgement.

"How are you?"

She felt her face grow warm again and glanced quickly at her plate.

"Better, I don't feel any pain anymore. Thanks, again, for accompanying me yesterday and I guess a 'sorry' would be in order again too."

"It was no problem," Hemmer brushed it off. She looked up and saw that he was looking at her intently. "I'm here for the appointment. My duty roster would allow me to be available from 1800 hours tomorrow."

Disappointment spread through her, which she immediately suppressed.

Of course he's here for the appointment, she scolded herself immediately afterwards. After all, only you are stupid enough to find a person you barely know so fine.

"Of course." Quickly she pulled out her own PADD and studied her appointment book. "That should be fine. How about 1930 hours?" Hemmer considered for a moment before nodding.

For a moment there was silence between the two of them and for a split crazy second, she truly toyed with the idea of humouring Chris and inviting him to dinner, though she immediately suppressed it.

Stay professional, after all, Hemmer shouldn't feel uncomfortable.

He cleared his throat and stood up, which again caused her a little bit of disappointment. "Well then, thank you. Enjoy your meal."

She thanked him and Hemmer turned around, but remained on the spot.

When he still hadn't moved after a few moments, she asked, a little worried.

"Hemmer, are you all right?" He kept his back to her.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

He turned back to her, however his expression did not hint at what he was thinking.

"How familiar are you with Aenar biology?"

She blushed, though this time it was not due to the fact that he was outrageously handsome.

"I'm ashamed to admit it, however, I was never very good at biology."

"Then I assume you are not aware of the fact that Aenar posses telepathic abilities."

All at once everything froze inside her, her movement, her thoughts, everything. "Oh, really?"

Her voice was low and thin and Hemmer just nodded, amusement clear on his features.

"Indeed. You know, normally I can ignore the thought processes of others, however that becomes a little difficult when they are about your own person. So it's fair to say that you weren't the only one who was a little ... distracted last evening."

She wasn't even able to panic.

"Oh."

"Mhhh." He nodded and leaned towards her a little, a small smile on his face and god did he have a pretty smile. Which automatically widened as he caught her train of thought. "It is not my intention, but you humans are very... loud in that way."

She slowly closed her eyes in shame and braced herself for him to reject her, however this never came.

Briefly, his hand brushed hers and she snapped her eyes open, only to see him straighten.

"I think it's really honourable that you want to remain professional, but ... I wouldn't mind dinner." He turned, but still paused. "By the way ... 'molten silver' and 'reflection of a moon' are really nice descriptions that no one has ever used for me. Thank you."

She stared after him as he left the canteen, the food and everything around her forgotten.

Telepath. He was a bloody telepath and had caught every embarrassing thought she had had about him. She closed her eyes.

She wasn't sure what had just happened, but she knew one thing.

She would fucking kill Chris.

#star trek strange new worlds #star trek snw #strange new worlds #snw #hemmer #hemmer star trek #lt hemmer #lieutenant hemmer #hemmer x reader #hemmer x you #hemmer snw x reader #strange new worlds hemmer x reader

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meshlasolus · 2 months

Text

The Winner Takes It All

Episode 12

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Tribute(OC)!Reader

Chapter Warnings: this might be the saddest one... or maybe I'm delusional and it can only get worse from here. Anyways, death, canon typical violence, drowning, my sweet baby Lukas is trying his best as always... oh yeah a hUGE AMOUNT OF ANGST

Chapter Summary: This is the endgame, there are four tributes remaining. Who will live, and who will die? The choice has never been up to the tributes.

Word Count: 3.8k

my live action cinderella dress (movie accurate) is finally done so expect me to have a lot more editing time. I will also probably have more writing time so expect some endings to unfinished series.

“He had f-feelings for me?” Lukas was dumbfounded. The poor kid didn’t even get to tell you. He tried to speak, opened his mouth to do so, but froze upon not knowing what he could possibly say in response. Maybe just start with the truth. “He did,” his head fell when the words finally escaped. “I’m sorry, he wanted to tell you.”

You’d been silent. Not quiet, but absolutely silent. Lukas didn’t try to make you be anything else… but he did have to keep you moving. It wasn’t much later in the day, but the sun was already setting. The minimal amounts of light only being shown through the small openings of the tree canopy. It was harder to tell where you were going. Nothing looked the same as it did yesterday, or the day before. You could swear you’d walked through here to get to the stream, but the path had somewhat changed along the way.

As drowned in your thoughts as you’d been right after it happened, your entire body, including your brain, had been numbed to Rodey’s death. His blood was still on your hands. Figuratively and literally. You didn’t stare at it too long, forgetting to let your gaze linger on anything except the path ahead, and Lukas, who was three steps in front of you.

You both were half of the remaining tributes. It was a miracle you both had made it this far, but now that the numbers had dwindled, there were two other tributes left who were hunting the both of you. It was better to keep moving than to sit like a duck and let one of them take their victory.

The longer you went without finding the stream, your need for freshwater had grown exponentially. It was strange how the past few days it would rain for hours, but now that you actually needed water it ceased to exist… in a literal rainforest. That was the peak behavior of a game maker, to play sinisterly.

“We can stop here for now. Maybe if I can get up one of these trees I’ll be able to spot the stream again.”

You barely minded what he was saying, giving a small nod to at least show you heard him. You didn’t care much to speak anymore, not even to the person who you felt the most patience from. He was doing fine without the constant dialogue of the days before, and you knew he’d be fine without it till the end. He was going to win, there was no doubt in your mind. You’d thought that perhaps it could be him or Rodey, but Rodey died saving you. Now you would do the same for Lukas, whenever the situation finally came.

You sat down, back against a tree trunk and head dropped forward, eyes making an instant connection with the dried blood on your body. Even if you scrubbed at yourself for hours, there was no chance you could get rid of it all. You have the blood of two allies on your hands, now. That’s as many as you’re willing to have.

Lukas had set down his pack, starting to climb the roots and knots of the tree’s enormous base, when a tiny parachute descended straight towards him. You looked up when you heard the familiar sound it made, watching it fall into the boy’s hands.

“Head’s up,” he called, tossing you one of two canteens full of water. You took it gratefully, beginning to drink up as much as you could take.

Lukas smiled before looking down to the note included.

Talk to her for me, tell her it’s not her fault. - F

He sighed, trying to come up with any ideas on what he could possibly say. There’s no way to know if she’ll even be open to a conversation. There’s no indicator that she even wants to speak at all. But this is a sponsor that keeps them from having to exhaust their resources, and Finnick asked for something simple in return. He doesn’t understand why Finnick is so dead set on coddling you in this arena. It’s not like things are going to get any better from here. It’s an absolute fact that the time can only become worse, until everyone meets their end but one.

But against his logic, and against what his brain is telling him, his gut wants to follow his mentor’s instructions… So he does.

He sits beside you at the base of the tree, his own canteen in hand and his pack in the other.

“Listen, I know you don’t wanna talk about it,” he assumed, given the fact that you’ve literally said nothing since it happened. “But what happened, it wasn’t your fault. You know that, right?”

You reasoned with the scene over in your head, and the only way it didn’t end the same way is if he didn’t choose to jump in front of you. It was hard to think about, because you feel responsible. He wouldn’t have jumped if you weren’t there. But if you weren’t there, she’d only have him to charge at. It all ends the same every time. He was faster than you, braver than you. He would have stepped time and again, and you couldn’t stop him.

“He s-saved me. It was f-for me.”

“I know.”

You closed your canteen and let it roll out of your hands and onto the ground next to you, curling your legs to your chest and trying to comfort yourself. You really didn’t want to talk about it, but if he was adamant for you to do so, it was going to be on your terms.

He seemed to be stumbling for more words, and only came across some having rambled a thought from his head.

“I wish he’d never told you…”

“T-told me what?”

He hadn’t caught onto the fact that you had no idea what he was talking about. So like a dumbass, he kept going.

“About his feelings for you. I told him a few days ago it could only hurt you. Then again I also told him it was a good idea so I guess we were both stupid,” his rambling of a response made your eyes widen in both shock and anger.

“He had f-feelings for me?”

Lukas was dumbfounded. The poor kid didn’t even get to tell you. He tried to speak, opened his mouth to do so, but froze upon not knowing what he could possibly say in response. Maybe just start with the truth.

“He did,” his head fell when the words finally escaped. “I’m sorry, he wanted to tell you.”

For some reason, this information didn’t hurt you as much as it should. Instead, it angered you. How could he possibly have been so stupid to sacrifice himself in the name of feelings for someone he’d only recently met? How could he have given up a possible win, just to show his devotion. Had it been an instinctual move of protection, you could have accepted it… but no.

“I s-should be dead r-right now. All these p-people around me, dropping l-like flies. And I’m still h-here.”

“Don’t say things like that. Look, I get it. You feel responsible…”

You nodded, because yes, you absolutely did. Your ally’s blood is on your hands, and no matter how many times you scrub it away, it will always be there.

“But I feel responsible for you. I’d rather it be any of them than you, understand?” He finished off, his look of seriousness piercing yours of confused emotion. Sadness, anger, guilt. Probably more, but you can’t identify them.

You nodded, but his words didn’t make you feel any better. If anything it just made things worse. He was still trying to protect you, and you couldn’t stand losing one more ally. Especially not him. He had to be the one to make it out of here. You’d been thinking about it so much more the past several hours, now that only four remain. You’ve only gotten this far because of your allies, but now they are almost gone. It’s on the verge of every man for himself, but you know Lukas won’t let you die on your own. If it comes down to the two of you, you have every intention of throwing yourself from the top of a tree so he can go home. You don’t think you’ll survive the other two tributes, however.

“You’re g-going to win, y’know.”

He sighed, looking at the ground and shrugging. Maybe they are true, the things that you say. He just hopes they aren’t.

“I’m not so sure anymore. If I were a gambling man, I’d have to put money on you.”

“Well then it’s a g-good thing you don’t gamble,” you smiled, trying to expel every other feeling you had, and only hold onto one emotion at a time. The air was light, just around the two of you. Old friends, fighting for their lives, but they can still make the other smile, or laugh. It’s simply what friends can do.

Lukas hopes that he doesn’t leave this arena without you. He is praying to anyone that can hear his thoughts that if he watches you die, he’ll die too. It’s not like he has anything to go back to, anyway.

“Promise m-me something, for when you get h-home?” You asked, his curiosity piqued. “Promise me that you’ll take care of m-my family. My brother, make sure he d-doesn’t ever have his name in the bowl more than it h-has to be.”

He smiled. He hadn’t even thought about his own family, his mother. Probably because he didn’t consider her to be so, anymore.

“I promise, if I get out of here, I will.”

“T-thank you, Lukas.”

He leaned against you, his head resting on the tree while your own head was on his shoulder. You’d be perfectly content with dying if you could just drift away like this. Everything now was peaceful, and you’d left no stones unturned. Your family would be taken care of if Lukas lived, you know he’s good on his word. You know that having spoken with him, and even sitting here with him now, you will have resolved everything with him. There’s nothing else you need to know… except-

“Lukas?”

“Yeah?”

“W-why did you volunteer?”

He took a deep inhale beside you, then went stiff as the reasoning coursed through his mind. He could lie and say it was an impulsive mistake. He could come up with literally a million other things that would sound plausible for any kid on why they would do something so stupid. But he wasn’t any kid, and you weren’t just some bystander. You were his best friend. Either of you could die any moment, so he wanted to make sure you got nothing but the truth.

“The morning of the reaping, my mom and I had that argument,” he recalled. You nodded along, remembering the scene vividly. He hadn’t been himself until he’d gotten on a boat. The water always seemed to calm him down. “I’d been feeling better after work, but I went home to shower and get dressed.”

He stopped for a moment, his brow furrowing as he tried to bring it all back into recollection. The nasty look on his mother’s face, the way she swore at him and spewed her insanity. Thinking back to it now, him volunteering is just what she wanted. It would have been better to refuse volunteering out of spite.

“She told me I would never measure up to my father, and that there was no point in trying. When I asked her what she wanted from me, she told me she wished I had died in his place.”

Your hand immediately found his in a tight and reassuring grip when you heard this. It was just like his mother to go off and say some shit like that. Something that would scar him the rest of his life and force him to go immeasurable lengths, and for what?

“I told her I would volunteer if she wanted me dead so badly. She said I might as well, because it would be the only way to bring some pride back to our family. The sad thing is, I didn’t regret it until they called your name…”

“I’m s-so sorry,” you whispered to him, barely heard above the humming and buzzing of the rainforest. You clung to him, hoping that this could bring the smallest semblance of comfort in a place that exudes horror and danger. He clung right back to you, being still in your embrace as it was one of normalcy. He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to hug you, or look at you, or talk to you. Even simply being in your presence wasn’t something he was going to take for granted, because he knew that soon, he would never be able to again, whichever way it went.

The day continued on, and the sun was setting much faster than you would ever anticipate. Probably because it wasn’t a real sun, and any glimpse of normalcy was non-lasting. It couldn’t be, because there had to be reminders that this was not the wilderness, and you were not safe. You would die any second. There were only four tributes remaining. You could imagine that things were getting tense back in the capitol. You couldn’t imagine the kid from eleven had garnered much of a fan base with Lukas being the prized tribute this year. You doubted the girl from one was getting any special attention, either. Not that they needed it. Estelle was most definitely the most qualified remaining tribute, a career who has trained for this moment all her life… but still, you’re sure Lukas will win it from her.

While walking in the marshy rainforest, you’re quickly reminded how easily this game can end.

You hear a branch snap a bit down the trail behind you, and you freeze.

“Lukas…” you whisper, drawing the knife from your hip.

He heard another branch, and turned his head, the boy named Brock from eleven quickly approaching, with Estelle on his heels. Whether or not she was chasing him, no one could be sure, but they both had a determined look in their eye, and all it took was one word for you to bolt ahead like lightning.

“Run.”

The branches below you snapped in half, the pressure of your rapid footsteps was intense enough to squash any animal or snake that dared slither into your path.

You could hear Lukas’ hard breath intake, as he was passing you every few seconds, then trailing a step behind, only to look back and make sure they weren’t gaining too quickly… except for they were. This was going to end in a face off, whether you liked it or not. You couldn’t run forever, and it was just a matter of time. You were ready to die, and you would protect Lukas.

You tripped over your steps, holding your hand out to stop Lukas in his tracks before he fell.

Well, at least you’d found the waterfall. The only downside is, you were at the top of it, having run onto a ledge that was at least a thirty foot drop into deep waters, raging from the pressure of the falls. There was no way you were making that jump without drowning. You’d probably have a heart attack on the way down and die before hitting the water.

“W-what do we do?” You turned to your counterpart, and he whipped his head back at the two approaching tributes.

“We’ve gotcha, now!” Estelle could be heard shouting, the sound getting far too close for comfort. It was now evident that they had been teamed up on this effort. “Nowhere to run!”

Lukas yanked your arm, pulling you beside him.

“Do you trust me?” he asked sincerely, the look in his eyes made you scared, like he was thinking irrationally, and he was… but it was all he could come up with.

“Yes,” you nodded, but grabbed his hand which was still on your arm. “Lukas?”

He didn’t even hesitate. He didn’t answer your call of his name. He didn’t even give you a second to understand what the hell he was about to do. He just did it.

Within a moment, gravity became your enemy, and you went flying backwards off the edge of the cliffside, arms and legs flailing as you screamed all the way down into the waters. You sucked in a quick breath before being fully submerged, hammered down by the constant onslaught of heavy water.

Lukas took off, running away while the others were distracted by your fall into the depths. He ran towards the forest again, trying to jump logs and dodge trees, anything that could make their path to him harder.

Brock was still looking over the edge, having been surprised by the play of events.

“Let’s go, we can’t let him get far,” Estelle pulled him by the shoulder, turning him to the rainforest patches again.

“What about the girl?”

Estelle scoffed, “We’ll hear a cannon in a few minutes, she can’t swim.”

And with that, they took off.

Immediately being in water, the panic set into your mind. You were clawing around, trying to make it out, reaching out for anything that you could use to pull yourself up… but with the pressure beating down over you, you sank deeper, and deeper, with no savior to jump in after you, now. This was it. This was the moment you had to choose.

Live, or Die.

Last time you chose to die, but there was nothing on the line. Lukas is on the line now. He is the only person you swore you were going to protect in this arena, and you had to find a way out of here if that was going to happen.

You tried to quiet your mind, to forget the past and just how much you hated being in this water. You were ignoring just how badly your arms ache while attempting to paddle to the surface. You forgot it all and remembered the boy you’ve known since childhood. You remembered all the times he stood up for you against the kids mocking your stutter. You remembered just how much he’s done for you and is still doing for you… and suddenly, your head breaks through the surface, and you’re able to crawl into the small cavern behind the waterfall.

You start heaving breaths, rapidly letting the air tear through your lungs, now that they had access to air in the first place. You smiled to yourself once you were able to get high enough on the rocks to stand. You survived. You’d been dealt a hand that was completely out of your favor and you managed to climb out and breathe the air around you.

Your excitement was immediately cut off when you heard a cannon sound.

You didn’t waste a minute in climbing the rocks as fast as you could, albeit a little clumsy from having wet hands and shoes. Your mind raced, and you hoped that your heart pounding would be eased, and you would be wrong about your suspicions.

“No, n-no,” you shook your head, running into the rainforest and looking around frantically. You took several turns, and couldn’t see anything or anyone, but you had your knife drawn anyway. You were practically panting by now, the heaviness in your breath never dwindling.

The minute you came to a clearing, your eyes falling on the person in front of you, your eyes watered with tears.

“Lukas,” you slid down to your knees next to his limp frame, pulling him into your lap to hold him. “Wake up. W-wake up, Lukas, I’m h-here.”

He didn’t budge, but as you rocked him, you were able to see the source of this tragedy, the trail of blood, streaming from his chest and over his body in gushes. It was all over your hands, and it was all over your arms. It was all over you. You were covered in his blood, just like you were covered in Rodey’s dried blood. You’d let another ally sacrifice themselves for you. You swore you wouldn’t.

This wasn’t just another ally, and this wasn’t just a tribute you’d met a week ago. This was the best friend you’d ever had. The person who grew up alongside you into a wonderful man. He was the person who comforted you when you felt too embarrassed to go to a family member. He was the boy who’d complimented you when no other boy would dare. He was the one who brought you shells every morning from his walk to the docks. And now he is the boy who’s blood you are covered in, crying over miserably.

You can’t bring yourself to part with him, to let him go. You know if you do, something different will become of you. Something you have never been before. So you don’t. You cling to him, and you cry, and you let the thunder that begins to rumble above you reflect your emotion. It’s been a day since it’s rained in this rainforest, but even still, the rain doesn’t pour, it only trickles slightly. Enough to remind you that despite this loss, and despite the fact that you will never be the same, you are still in this arena, and there is only one way out.

You raise your head, and hear another sound of a cannon. You look around, but there is no sign of movement or of other tributes.

There’s only one left, and despite what you’ve said since the moment you entered this God forsaken place, despite your morals, and despite these tributes not being your real enemy, there is only one thing on your mind, and you will not rest until you’ve attained it…

As you move to stand, you roll Lukas’ body on his back, placing his hands over his chest to be at rest. You hate that this is how his story ends. You want to bury him, you want to give him a proper memorial, but you know this arena will be scrapped by the capitol for next year’s use, and this spot will be desecrated soon after you arrange it. So you’ve decided you will raise a memorial of him back home, when you arrive there.

Your tears are still running hot, but there’s a new fire under them that hadn’t been there before. There’s an anger you’ve never felt before. There’s a glint in your eyes that will not be satisfied.

You turn your head at the familiar sound of an incoming parachute, the contents of the container seem to be large, as there’s an entire box being lowered in. You watch it fall to the ground, in disbelief at the sheer size of it alone. It comes up to about your knees, and you wonder, what could Finnick have sent me?

You flick open the top, and immediately see the contents of the inside. Rope, lots and lots of rope. Several carabiners are included that could be used for rock climbing, but you know, and he knows, that’s not what you have in mind.

You pick up the note, two little wet spots appearing from the tears in your eyes, and the rain from above.

Show no Mercy… - F

tags(open): @thepassionatereader @i-voluntears @secretsicanthideanymore @mystargirl-interlude @c4ttheart @lilibrn

#finnick imagine #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair thg #thg finnick #finnick odair #finnick x reader #finnick odair x reader #finnick x you #hunger games #sam claflin x reader #sam claflin

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therisingdarkness · 19 days

Text

Making my case for Sleeper Agent Crosshair, 'cause even if it doesn't happen, I think it's an interesting idea and I'd happily watch three more seasons just to see it play out.

I just think it was pretty suspicious how events played out Infiltration and Extraction. Something always sat weird with me, the way Crosshair acted about his time on Tantiss, and then when he was faced with the CX clones.

I suppose you could say that the reason Crosshair was tight-lipped about his experiences and his apparent reluctance to speak about it could be chalked up to the torture and trauma he undoubtedly went through, but I don't really buy that. I think it's made clear that he cares about his brothers and Omega far more than he cares about keeping secrets.

But what was really interesting to me was the way he reacted when he came face to face with the captured CX operative in Rex's stronghold. It was the immediate unease, and the way the CX clone teased that they should be asking Crosshair, because he already knows. His taunt was so malicious, like Crosshair was supposed to have all the answers.

But then Crosshair seemed genuinely confused at points. Like he did end up telling them what these operatives were, but it still feels like something is missing. It doesnt take a rocket scientist to deduce that these clones went through some reconditioning program to make them this way. Its a conclusion I think they could have arrived to without Crosshair's input.

But what if Cross is actually a Sleeper Agent? Like, the reconditoning ran so deep that he himself isn't aware, but it shows itself in these weird little tells, like being so nervous to be in the same room as the CX clone. I would even say that in this last episode, maybe that shot he missed was missed on purpose--the reconditoning overriding everything else. Crosshair thinks he missed the shot, but it was actually a latent decision. Another deliberate choice not to show his facial expression throughout this moment, because what might we have seen? Horror, sadness, anger over missing the shot? Oooor...maybe blank indifference as his reconditioning takes over and does whatever needed to be done to complete the mission.

And even in Extraction, when he goes hand-to-hand against the assassin...like no offense, but why Crosshair, when he's the weakest member in close quarter combat? It's almost as if he deliberately outs himself in that position because he feels compelled to.

What if his hand tremor is not just a psychological response, but also the reconditioning at work, trying to keep him from helping his brothers. Like trying to prevent him from aiding them in any meaningful way.

I don't really think anything will come of it, it's honestly just a feeling I have and an idea that I thought sounded kinda cool and angsty. I could write about it.

Anyway, these are my thoughts about Sleeper Agent Crosshair Theory, and if it somehow comes true, ya'll heard it here first XD

#tbb #star wars tbb #tbb crosshair #the bad batch #bad batch theories #star wars the bad batch

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abeautylives · 25 days

Text

Times I Remember Well

(and Some That I Don’t)

Part 2

author’s note: The word "skivvies" means underwear. Apparently not everyone knows that lol

pairing: female!OCxjake

time frame: 2014-2016

word count: 7k this part

warnings: language, more teenage angst, illicit substance use, underage drinking, mentions of sex and sexual situations, fingering, angry Sam

I was serious when I said I couldn’t show my face at the Kiszka household for a while.

Sam showed up at my front door the next afternoon, and immediately started making fun of me for being rejected by his brother.

“Oh Joshy, why won’t you kiss me?!” Complete with immature kissy sounds and puppy dog eyes.

I could only wonder what Josh had told him happened. He wouldn’t tell me. Menace.

It was one thing to hang out with Sam so soon after the incident, but there was no way I could be around Josh. Or even Jake.

The more I thought about that night (which was a lot), the more I over-analyzed Jake’s reaction to his twin cozying up to me.

Was I crazy to think that he was mad at me? Or at Josh? The look on his face had been murderous (it got even more murdery every time I thought about it). Had I imagined that?

Because I’m the luckiest girl on earth, I didn’t have to wait that long to find out.

After three weeks of avoiding their house all together, Sam convinced me to come by for a smoke sesh in the garage. Same as always, the usual, totally casual. I knocked twice on the door and let myself in, sat on the old throw rug right next to Sam, joined the rotation with Danny on the couch across from me and Sam to my left. Around and round it went, while I refused to meet the eyes of anyone in the room but Sammy.

Jake sat upon his ugly floral throne and Josh was tucked into the corner of the couch beside him. I risked peeking up at them, back and forth, whenever I knew they weren’t paying attention.

They were so different. More different than I had ever realized, but Josh seemed okay - a little quiet but he smiled easily and laughed freely. I don’t think Jake even glanced in my direction once, but I was too scared to look at him for too long, so who knows.

Eventually, Sam smoked too much. He did this almost every time, you’d think he’d have figured it out by then. He laid himself flat out on the cement floor and dozed off, so I asked Danny to toss me one of the dingy throw pillows from the couch.

“Here, stupid.” I shoved Sam’s shoulder and he stirred enough to lift his head, I stuffed the pillow underneath it. He went out like a light.

Jake chose the moment Sam passed out to stand from the chair. He stayed there for a second, and I could see him from the corner of my eye. Just standing there, like a total weirdo! So yeah, I looked up at him. Don’t you worry, he was already looking down at me and our eyes locked. Of course they did.

His expression was pretty neutral but made me feel squirmy anyway, so I blinked and looked at Josh instead. You guessed it, he was already looking at me too! Except he’s perfectly lovely and sweet, so he grinned and shrugged his shoulders.

“Come grab some snacks with me, Tiny.”

Nope, Josh didn’t say that. I nearly snapped my neck jerking my head back up to Jake. “C’mon, T.”

When we were still in middle school, Sam and I would sometimes watch reruns of The Twilight Zone, have you ever seen that show? Each episode was a story about some seriously weird and disturbing shit, alternate realities.

This was like that. I had entered the Twilight Zone.

Josh was my only option for help, so I obviously looked over at Danny instead. He was melting into the couch again, lightweight.

“Let’s go.” This Jake was freaking me out. I mean, he didn’t talk to me much under normal circumstances, but he definitely never asked me to go anywhere with him. Let alone demanded it.

“Okay!” Once again, I embarrassed myself under this roof. My voice came out strained and squeaky. Let’s blame it on the dry mouth.

He skirted around the chair and out the side door, and my body just got up to follow him. Traitor! I stepped over Sam and before I made it to the door, Josh’s hand shot out and grabbed my wrist.

“Hey, you okay?”

Ugh, he’s so perfect.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine but he’s being so weird, right?” Right?!

“He is. He’s been kinda weird for a couple weeks, even with me. But uh… Good luck in there, missed you around here.” He released his hold on my wrist and chuckled. Traitor!

My possible friendship with Josh was tenuous at best, but I was considering a forever type of silent treatment after this betrayal. I sucked a few deep breaths into my lungs before I walked into the house, and when I made it to the kitchen, Jake was leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. He hadn’t even pulled any snacks out. He lifted his eyes to me as I walked in, and did that flippy thing with the hair that always flopped over them.

“What’s up Biebs?” He hated that (he and Sam both did, it was great), and I knew he hated that, but he was getting on my nerves with his attention, with his demands. I could see the hate written all over his face, but I crossed the kitchen and leaned into the counter across from him. Then I matched his wide-legged stance, crossed my arms, and scowled. We stared at each other for a beat, my underarms started to sweat before he responded.

“Where have you been the last few weekends?”

What do you mean he’d noticed I hadn’t been here? Was he for real?

“Uhh, I’ve been around, I guess. What do you care?”

“You avoiding us, Tiny?” He adjusted his stance, straightening up to his full height (a whopping half inch taller than me - what is it with these guys?) but kept his arms across his chest. His hair had fallen back into his eyes and he flipped it away, and I just stared at him in silence. “Something happen the last time you were here?”

What do you know, dickhead?

“Like what, Jacob?” I smoothed out the scowl from between my eyebrows and batted my lashes at him. I’m so innocent! He did not like it. His arms dropped to his sides and he pushed himself away from the counter. In less than a second he was standing right in front of me. In a fraction of that, he had leaned in close, the tip of his nose nearly touching mine. I tried to back away, arching my back over the edge of the counter, but he moved in further.

Now my back was sweating.

“Did you fool around with my brother?”

Jesus. His question breezed over my lips and his words shot straight to my gut. It wasn’t like the soft caress of Josh’s voice asking what I was doing when I’d been begging him to kiss me. This wasn’t like that at all.

“Uh-“ Yeah yeah, I had to clear my throat. I think I stopped breathing. “Who? Sammy? Gross, dude.”

Deflect! Deflect!

“Did you fuck Josh, T?”

WHAT?!

I pushed him away from me. I couldn’t breathe!

“What the hell are you talking about, Jake? Of course I didn’t… do that!” I’d never done that, with anyone, had he lost his mind?

“Then why is he acting so weird? And why haven’t you been here since that night?” He really seemed surprised that I hadn’t fu- had sex with Josh on the couch in the garage. What kind of girl did he take me for?

“Ask him yourself, asshole!”

“I did! Multiple times! He won’t say shit and says you guys are just friends, but that doesn’t explain why you’ve been too chicken-shit to show your face!”

Why was he so close to me again? I put a palm squarely in the middle of his chest, ready to push his ass to the floor if I had to, but he wrapped his fingers around my wrist and squeezed. Kinda hard.

“My own brother won’t tell me the truth and it’s your fault.” He pushed my hand back into my own chest. “What did you do to him?”

I was truly at a loss for words, so I uttered a few that I honestly had never said to anyone before. Not even Sam.

“Fuck you, Jake.”

But he didn’t even move! His face sort of twisted up, like he was confused, but I don’t think I could have been any more clear.

“Grow up, Tiny.”

Ugh, when did he learn how to push all my buttons? “You grow up, and mind your own business you creep. What, are you jealous I kissed Josh and not you?”

You should’ve seen it, seriously. You had to be there. He sprung away from me like I’d electrocuted him.

“You are! Oh this is hilarious, you’re jealous.” I had to say it, the look on his face was a mixture of disgust and embarrassment. I couldn’t believe it. “Do you like me Jake? Huh? You wanna kiss me Jake?”

There’s no excuse for that one. I still don’t know why I said it. But then, ohhhh then, he rushed back into my space, wrapped both hands around the base of my skull, and slammed his lips against mine.

See? Luckiest girl on earth.

A lot of things happened in a span of a very few seconds.

The weight of his body pushed me into the counter pretty hard, but I barely registered the pain. My first reaction was obviously shock, confusion, but it quickly turned into acceptance and my lips went from stiff against his to soft and welcoming.

Yep. I kissed him back.

My hands flew up and wrapped around his wrists, and he actually gripped my hair. I gasped into the kiss and he slipped his tongue into my mouth. He groaned, I moaned and-

“Seriously?!”

We bounced apart like the opposite poles of two magnets. Jake didn’t stop moving backwards until he hit the counter across from me.

“This is seriously fucked up, guys.” Sam stood in the doorway of the kitchen, eyes red and unfocused, but they landed on me. “Go home, T. I shouldn’t have even asked you to come here.”

Before I could argue or even get upset with him, he turned out of the room and was gone.

I was confused. Very confused. My heart was still beating erratically in my chest and my breaths didn’t feel right either. Of all the people on the planet, I had to look to Jake effing Kiszka for help.

“Jake…” My voice came out small, weak.

For a minute, he just shook his head. My vision went a little blurry.

I am not going to cry in front of another one of these idiots!

“Jake.” Stronger that time, better. “Why did you do that?”

“Why did you?”

“You kissed me first! I-“

“You liked it.”

No, no I did not. I loved it. There was enough potential that I could’ve been smitten with it.

“You’re disgusting.” As I found my voice, I also found some anger. That anger coerced my feet into action, and I found myself toe to toe with him again. I pushed a finger right into his chest, for good measure. “Don’t ever-“

I learned a few things that night. One thing was that Jake was a really terrible listener.

He didn’t grab me again, he didn’t crowd me or slam his mouth to mine. He just leaned forward and let his lips hover over mine. That shut me up real quick.

“You sure, T?” Ugh, he whispered. And it was sexy, and seductive.

Another thing I learned that night was that Jake was a real prick.

Because he whispered those words across my lips, wrapped his hands around my upper arms and spun us around, backed me into the counter…

And walked away.

With all that being said, that might have been the night I started falling for Jake Kiszka. But I don’t really remember.

Sam didn’t speak a word to me for six days.

He was really mad at me! Or at least I figured he was, since he sent me away and said I never should have been there to begin with. And he ignored all my texts. And calls. Shit, I even emailed him once.

I passed him in the halls at school all week, tried to catch his attention from a distance, watched him purposefully look past me, or through me each time.

I had really fucked up.

On the seventh day, he gave it a rest. A full week since incident #2, he texted me.

sammy: I’m sorry too

That was it. I had apologized a hundred unanswered times, pleaded with him to just talk to me, for a week. After so much silent treatment, I didn’t really know how to address it.

Me: my dad wants me to stay with him for the summer

That was true. My dad always wanted me to stay with him for the summer, but I usually chose to stay home and traded out the other, shorter holiday breaks with him. I hadn’t seriously been considering it, until incident #2.

sammy: In Traverse? Are you gonna go?

Me: yeah.

What did you expect me to say? I needed to get out of the bubble that was our town and away from all the testosterone. Granted, Traverse City is only like three hours away, but that was pretty far for a kid with no license.

Sam didn’t text me back. I was glad I was leaving.

School let out for the summer and my dad picked me up that weekend. Traverse City isn’t all that different from home, aside from triple the population. There’s plenty to do outdoors - beaches and trails - but my dad didn’t exactly provide the same kind of company as Sam.

When you’re running free with your best friend, the break never seems long enough. This was the longest summer I could remember, but by early July Sam and I were back on regular speaking terms. We texted all the time, and eventually accepted each other’s apologies.

But after not hearing from him at all before I left town, the first time he reached out was not all that fun.

sammy: Can I ask you a question

Me: shoot

sammy: Why did it have to be my brothers?

Me: …

Me: what do you mean

sammy: You could make out with ANYONE else

sammy: Why them?

So Josh did tell him something.

Me: Josh told you we kissed?

sammy: That’s not an answer.

The truth? You know the truth. I started crushing on Josh sometime between his bare chest at Fischer Hall and the skintight jeans with the peace sign patch on the ass that he started wearing later that summer.

But I still didn’t know what the hell had happened with Jake.

Me: i already said i was sorry sam. I. AM. SORRY.

Me: i really did like josh… he doesn’t like me back

Me: but i DID NOT KISS JAKE!!! He kissed ME and i have no clue why

Me: I DO NOT LIKE HIM, I HATE HIM

Look, I rarely lied to Sam. I had no reason to. But that text? That was a big fat lie.

How could I tell him that not only did I not hate Jake, I liked kissing Jake. I wanted to kiss Jake again. I wanted to learn how he did it, what his moves were, what made him-

No. Couldn’t tell baby brother all that. So I lied, and I avoided at all costs.

Back to the best of friends by August, Sam was waiting in my driveway the day my dad dropped me off. We spent the last week of the summer attached at the hip again, but I didn’t step foot in his house for a very long time.

The Friday after my eighteenth birthday, Sammy threw me a party. That I didn’t ask for.

I rarely hung out with him at his own house anymore, and if I did it was only when I knew for certain that Jake wasn’t home.

Josh and I had developed a sort of friendly relationship over the last couple years, stemming from a run-in at a movie theater. I was on a date (it went terribly), Josh was on a date (I asked him about it later and yes, that guy liked him back!), we fumbled awkwardly through hellos and introductions. He told me he missed seeing me around.

Those five words were enough to convince me that it would be okay to go to the house if he was there.

But not Jake. Never Jake.

So imagine my utter shock and horror when I knocked twice on the garage door, slipped underneath it, and found the room packed full of people.

“SURPRISE!!!”

Fuck me, right? No one likes surprise parties. I particularly hate them. Especially when I’m standing there like an idiot, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, taking in an unexpected mass of people and my stupid eyes lock on Jake stupid Kiszka.

And he smirked. Asshole.

“I’m not ready to leave you.”

Despite the garage full of our friends, I still ended up on Sam’s lap in the ugly chair, a little buzzed and kind of weepy. I tucked my face into his shoulder.

Don’t judge me. I’d already done a few hours worth of dancing, laughing and drinking. And avoiding the proverbial elephant in the room. It was exhausting.

He shrugged off my concerns. “When I’m famous, you can just drop out and come on tour with us.” He raised his beer up to me, so I tapped mine against it. Cheers to adulthood, I guess.

“You better get famous, you dick. Or even better, fail miserably and come live in Ann Arbor with me.”

In a month, I was graduating. It's not like I was leaving for college right away, but the reality of being eighteen was weighing on me. Sam’s reality was even heavier.

The fucking band was getting noticed. Being seen. What was I gonna do if they took off, if he left me and Michigan behind?

“Cheer up, T. This is supposed to be a party.” He squeezed me with the arm wrapped around my waist.

“Yeah yeah. I’m fine… I’m just gonna miss you.”

He was really great sometimes, my best friend. He reached down and sat his beer on the floor, then wrapped both arms around me. “I’ll miss you too, you know that.”

I let my eyes close for a minute and just enjoyed it, then sighed heavily against his neck. “Okay, sorry for the pity party. Let me up, I gotta pee.”

A few people were lingering in the kitchen when I made it into the house, they all raised their drinks and yelled happy birthday as I passed through. In the upstairs bathroom, I could hear when they filtered back outside, the house falling silent. I gave myself a little pep talk in the mirror before I left.

Get it together, woman. Have a good time, enjoy the fucking summer. Grow. Up.

Good talk, I know.

When I hit the bottom of the stairs, I heard the refrigerator open. As I turned into the kitchen, someone was still standing there, hidden by the door.

But I knew who it was.

The fridge door swung closed and there he was. And we were alone.

Not this shit again.

I wasn’t gonna do it, I wasn’t gonna do anything. I swear. But I kept moving to pass him and leave the room, and he stuck an arm out and stopped me in my tracks.

“Just let me go, Jake.” See? I had zero interest in this! I didn’t even look at him. Ya know, until he physically turned my body to face him. He had the nerve to smile.

“Happy birthday, T.” Thank God he didn’t whisper it, he was so good at whispering.

“Yeah, thanks. See ya.” I tried to leave again, but he put both hands on me and kept me facing him, toe to toe. Another showdown in the Kiszka kitchen.

“Don’t be like that.”

Oh, how I hated him in that moment. Everything came back, the confusion, the anger I felt the last time we’d been here. When he basically accused me of being a slut right before accusing me of wanting him. And being right about it.

I shook his hands off my arms and took a step back. “No. No, I’m not doing this again.” I turned to leave again, and he caught me by the wrist.

“What are you talk-“

“Stop! Don’t pretend you don’t know!”

“Tiny, I really-“

“Don’t call me that, and don’t act like you don’t know exactly why I have avoided you for two fucking years.”

Maybe it was my expression, or maybe it was the tone of my voice, I’ll never know but he dropped my wrist and actually managed to look guilty.

“Exactly. Bye, Jake.”

I made it to the doorway. If I had just been moving faster, I would’ve missed it and probably never experienced what happened next.

“I’m sorry.”

There’s no way I’d heard that right. It spun me around where I stood.

“What?”

“I said I’m sorry, about that night.”

I waited for the ground to open up and swallow us, or a meteor to blast through the ceiling. Surely the world was ending. Nothing happened.

“Really. What exactly are you sorry for, hm? Why exactly do you think I hate you?”

“You hate me?” I’m sure you can imagine, but yes, he had the audacity to look surprised by that information. It pissed me off.

“Get real, Jake.” I moved closer. “Get fucking real. Tell me what you’re apologizing for, go ahead. What part of that night are you sorry for?” By the time I was done, I was all up in his space and he looked uncomfortable.

Good.

“I’m sorry I accused you of sleeping with Josh.”

The big bad anger deflated, but only a little. I really hadn’t expected him to acknowledge that.

“You accused a sixteen year old virgin of fucking your brother on a dirty couch in your garage.” He literally cringed. I get it, it sounded bad. Because it was.

“That was really shitty of me-“

“You think?!”

“Let me finish,” His hands were on me again, wrapped around my upper arms. “Please.”

All I could do was nod. That please is what did it. He really seemed to feel bad, and I was believing it.

“I said that out of anger, T. I knew something happened out there, and Josh was all fucked up about it after. He wouldn’t talk to me, and he tells me everything.” My shoulders shook with the force of that word. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

My mind was reeling, grasping for the meaning he intended. I shook my head.

“We’re twins, we don’t have secrets. I thought you either forced him to do something he didn’t want to, or you… were mean to him. Judged him.”

It dawned on me, clear as day.

“You knew.”

He tipped his chin and nodded, just once.

“I don’t- then what about the rest? I called you jealous, but it had nothing to do with that. But you were!”

He nodded again. My resolve crumbled.

“Why did you kiss me?” I whispered it, but I wasn’t trying to be sexy, or seductive.

“Because I was jealous. And I wanted to.”

Gulp.

“I’m really sorry that I hurt your feelings. I never wanted you to hate me.”

“What did you want?”

As you can imagine, that question sealed my fate.

“Just you.”

My back was against the refrigerator before he even finished breathing the words. This time, there was no moment of shock, I wasn’t confused, and my lips were not stiff.

His hands slid up my arms and into my hair, and he tilted my head. My mouth opened for him, and I gripped the front of his t-shirt for dear life.

Remember when I told you that by sixteen, I had kissed plenty? That was true. By eighteen, I’d kissed plenty more.

But this kiss was going to ruin me, and I knew it.

He let a hand slip from my hair and ran it down the length of my body, past my shoulder, over my ribs and the small of my waist, then he tucked it between me and the fridge and flattened it to my lower back. And pulled my hips into his.

Oh my god. He did want me, I could feel the evidence of that pressed against me.

“Jake.” I broke the kiss but his lips kept moving, he tilted my head further and ran kisses over my cheek, my jaw. “Jake.”

“Mm?” His hips ground into mine, he didn’t take his lips off of me.

“What- fuck, what are we doing?” My hands flattened against his chest and pushed, just a little, and he finally lifted his face.

His breath was coming quickly, I could feel it under my palms. “What do you wanna do, T?”

My brain raced toward an answer, past all the reasons we shouldn’t do what I wanted to do. There’s still a party going on in the garage, Sam is waiting there for me to come back from the bathroom, this is a bad idea, this is Jake, Sam may never forgive me for this.

“Can we- should we… go somewhere else?” Yeah, that’s what my brain landed on.

“You sure?” The memory of that same question, two years ago, rushed in and I knew that if he walked away from me this time, I would never get over it.

“I’m sure.”

He didn’t stop to reconsider or question my decision, just took my hand and led me back to the stairs. We rushed to the second floor, not leaving time to second guess or re-evaluate. He practically dragged me into his room, slammed the door behind us and locked it.

I didn’t bother looking around, it was dark anyway but I didn’t want to think too hard about what was happening. I just let him push me towards a bed and fell into it. He tore his shirt over his head and covered my body and mouth with his.

My legs opened and he settled between them, immediately grinding into me. This was happening, and it was happening fast. Our mouths were securely attached, so I wriggled beneath him, tugging the hem of my shirt up. As soon as he caught on to what I was doing he took over the task, sliding a hand up under my shirt and touching my bare skin for the first time.

“Fucking hell, T.” God, his voice was ragged, he was literally panting as he leaned back to use both hands, spreading his palms over my stomach, my ribcage, skimming over the sides of my breasts and up until my shirt was over my head and thrown to the floor.

For a minute we just stared at each other, our heavy breathing the only sound in the room.

He had changed so little and so much in the last two years. Physically, his hair had grown long, hanging to his shoulders instead of flipping across his forehead. His cockiness had transformed into confidence, and his actions up to this moment had been firm and self-assured. As we took each other in, I wondered what changes he saw in me.

Did he see a woman that night, pinned to his mattress by his eyes? At sixteen, I’d tried so hard to convince all of them that I was grown - could he see the ways that I had?

“You’re so fucking hot.” Okay, yeah it wasn’t poetry or anything, but his words pulsed through my bloodstream and settled between my thighs. Something like a whine slipped from the back of my throat, and suddenly we were moving in fast motion. He covered me again, but his kiss landed on my jaw, then below my ear, then the base of my throat. As it passed my collarbone I tangled my hands into his hair. He’d propped himself up on an elbow and the other hand slid up my ribs again then covered my breast.

I wish I could remember what my bra even looked like that night, but it hadn’t seemed like he cared.

He squeezed me softly, I moaned, he squeezed harder. Then his fingers tugged the top of the cup down, and for the first time, a part of me was truly naked in front of Jake Kiszka.

There was only a fleeting moment where he lifted his head and looked at my chest, bared to him, my nipple already hard and aching for his attention - then he dropped his mouth over it and sucked it in.

My back arched off the bed and he sucked me in deeper, his tongue swirling around my nipple before he softly put his teeth on it.

“Yes.” I hardly recognized my own voice, but he must have recognized the need or the urgency in it, because he applied just a tiny bit of pressure, and bit me. “Yes!”

His head popped up and his eyes met mine. “Fuck, you liked that?”

Was that weird? Was I not supposed to? I didn’t know what to say, so I nodded. It prompted him to pull the other side of my bra down and treat my other nipple to the same affection, so I guessed it was the right answer.

We were writhing together, friction between our hips and my hands holding his head to my chest until I couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Jake, kiss me, please…”

Somewhere along the line, he’d become a better listener. His lips slotted over mine and he kissed me deeply, I felt it everywhere. Until his hand started fumbling with the button of my jeans. It popped open and he slid the zipper down. Just as his fingers danced over the edge of my underwear, he paused.

Against my mouth he whispered, “Yes?”

I nodded frantically, breaking the kiss.

“Say it, T.”

“Yes.”

Fingers slid over cotton and tucked themselves between my legs, and my entire body shuddered. He dropped his gaze to where he was touching me as he pressed them into me and slid them up my center, catching on my clit. I jolted at the contact.

“Jesus Christ.”

Had I surprised him? Done something wrong? Why was he pulling his hand away- oh.

His hand slipped out of my jeans only long enough to slide under the waist of my panties, then it disappeared inside them.

Jake Kiszka had his fingers on my actual, bare-

You get it.

Again, they pressed into me and then through me, I could feel the way my body offered no resistance, slick and easy.

“You- you’re so…” His voice trailed off, but I needed to know. What was I? What was he thinking?

“What, Jake?” I sounded breathy, my voice coming out shaky and quiet. He looked up into my eyes.

“You’re so wet.” He sounded stunned, awe lacing his tone.

My throat closed, I swallowed hard. Embarrassment made my chest hot and I opened my mouth to say something. I’m sorry? But my mouth snapped shut because he moved his fingers through the wetness again and groaned, deep and low, before tracing up to my clit again and circling it.

He continued to watch my face, I think. I’m not sure, because my eyes slammed shut as my body bowed into the feeling, but it seemed like he was watching all of my reactions closely. I’m sure he saw my face drop when his fingers left my clit, only to see my jaw fall open when one moved lower and pushed inside me slowly.

Inside. Me. My eyes shot open and found him staring at me, nostrils flared.

“Relax, T. You’re so tight.”

Was that bad? I pulled a deep breath into my lungs, in through my nose and out through trembling lips. Tried my hardest to relax every muscle, but I was wound so tight I felt like I would implode.

I must have done something right, because his finger slid deeper and he murmured the worst thing I’d ever heard.

“That’s good, good girl.”

In hindsight, I know he wasn’t even trying to be sexy. But my body tightened around his finger again and he started to withdraw it. I panicked, gripped his wrist and dug my nails in just as he pushed all the way inside.

“God!” I couldn’t help it, the invasion was overwhelming me.

“Shhh, I’ve got you.” He was pumping it inside me now. “Tell me what you want.” Focus made his features look so serious, but his voice was calm and coaxing. I had no fucking clue what to say.

So I said the first thing that popped into my head.

“More.” He smiled, his mouth curling up at the corners. I felt him withdraw his finger all the way, gasped as he swirled two over my clit, then entered me again with both.

“Jesus, you’re so tight, you feel so good.”

So good, so good. That’s good. I let myself relax into his touch and within a few seconds my hips were moving in time with his fingers. My bottom lip was held tight between my teeth as I tried not to let any of the sounds building in my throat escape. He noticed.

His face came close, he pecked a kiss to my cheek then whispered into my ear. “Let me hear you, just be quiet.”

I really had no choice, because as soon as the words left his mouth, he pressed his thumb to my clit and plunged his fingers deep.

“Shit Jake, yes yes yes…”

Still next to my ear, he tucked his face into my neck and kissed me there before making his way back to my lips. His tongue swept out over my bottom lip and I opened to him, let him in. My eyes fluttered closed.

Then I felt it, a tightening, low in my belly. A tingling even lower. I don’t know what I did that signaled to him, but he knew.

“Are you gonna come for me?” He asked between kisses. I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

I didn’t have to. All it took was a few more pumps of his fingers, a couple circles with his thumb, and I had my first orgasm.

Trust me when I tell you, it was a doozy.

My entire body tensed, my back arched and my mouth opened. Thank God I couldn’t hear myself over the buzz in my head because I’m sure the sound I made was mortifying, but it didn’t matter. As quickly as it had gripped me, it started to fade away. Things came back into focus and I felt Jake’s fingers softly moving in shallow strokes before they stopped and he pulled them from me.

“Wow.”

Who said that? Oh, it was Jake. I peeked up at him and his eyes were wide, almost black in the darkness. Then he pulled his hand from my pants and stood up so quickly, I was sure I’d done something wrong. I shot up to sit and had barely planted my feet on the floor when I heard his belt buckle clink. The shuffle of his shoes across the carpet as he toed them off his feet. The soft swish of denim falling down his legs and hitting the floor, more shuffling and he stepped out of his jeans.

Holy shit holy shit holy shit.

I didn’t even have time to truly panic, because he stepped back up to the bed and leaned down, kissing me briefly on the lips before using his hands to guide me backwards, laying across his bed again. He reached for the waist of my pants and, already undone, started to slide them off of my hips. I let him pull them down my legs until they got stuck at my shoes.

He chuckled. I giggled, nervously. He slipped my shoes off then tugged my jeans from my feet. I shifted and sat back up.

And there I was. Looking at Jake Kiszka in nothing but his skivvies and socks, and myself wearing much of the same. Except my tits were out, the cups of my bra pushing them up from underneath.

Jake must have sensed my nerves, because he asked me if I was still sure. I nodded and he demanded to hear it out loud.

“Yes.”

He turned to his nightstand, rummaged blindly through the drawer, and when he straightened he slipped his thumbs under the elastic waistband of his underwear.

Then they hit the floor.

And there I was. Looking at Jake Kiszka in nothing but his socks.

My cheeks exploded with heat and I was grateful that he couldn’t see me blushing in the dark, but I must have made a face, or a noise, because he was poised to tear open the condom wrapper and he stopped.

“Are you okay?”

Oh shit, what did I do?

“Um-“ Cleared my throat. “I- yeah. Yes. Sorry. I’ve just, never done this before.”

“Ha ha, T. For real, what’s wrong?”

Ha ha? I wasn’t laughing.

“Nothing. It’s fine, I just haven’t ever…” It trailed off, because there was something wrong with the way he was looking at me.

“Fuck. You gotta be kidding me.” Ouch.

His arms dropped to his sides, condom packet still between the first two fingers of his left hand. He flicked it away, it skimmed the surface of the nightstand and fell behind it.

No, no no no.

“What? What are you doing?” There it was, a little bit of that panic, finally allowed to bloom under my skin. He bent and stepped back into his boxer briefs and pulled them up. My own semi-nudity suddenly felt shameful, so I tugged the cups of my bra back up to cover my breasts. “Jake, I still want th-“

“No. I can’t, T. You’re still a virgin?”

Was I crazy, because I hadn’t seen anything wrong with that before this exact moment? He stepped back into his jeans and started pulling them up.

I reached out to stop him, a hand on his wrist. “Yeah, but who cares? It’s not that big of-“

“I care!” He ripped his arms away from me, pulled his pants up and fastened them. He continued as he started plucking my own clothes from the floor and shoving them into my shaking arms. “I can’t do that, I can’t be your first. I can’t fucking believe this.”

The first tear slipped and ran down my cheek, and I swiped it away, frustrated. “You’re overreacting, Jake. Why are you-“

He cut me off again. “How could you not tell me? What if I, if I had- God.”

“I didn’t know I was supposed to!” I jerked my shirt over my head and shoved my arms through the sleeves. “Why would you think I wasn’t?!” Pulled my jeans over my feet and up my legs.

“Because Sam told me!”

My fingers stopped buttoning my pants, my head jerked up. “What?!”

“Sam said he thought you were fucking that idiot you dated last year, when you weren’t coming around for like a month. He-“

“I’m gonna kill him. That’s it, I’m finally gonna actually kill him.”

Jake threw his arms up. “What was I supposed to think, T? With the way you were kissing me, and- and- you weren’t acting like a virgin!”

“Because you still think I’m some kind of slut, Jake? Is that it? Oh my God I’m so stupid.” I fastened my jeans and pulled my shoes on, then shoulder checked him on my way to the door.

It felt good, okay?

He was right behind me, forgetting his shoes and pulling his shirt on as he followed me down the stairs, but I didn’t stop. I bolted through the kitchen and outside, then into the garage.

A lot of people had left and I found Sam immediately, strewn across one end of the couch. He was probably crossfaded and ready to pass out, but he popped up as soon as he saw my face.

“Tiny, where have you been? What’s wrong-“ Jake stormed into the garage behind me, and even through hooded, bleary eyes, Sam put some pieces together. Or tried to.

I was trying desperately not to cry, and I’m sure I looked it. I could feel how kiss-swollen my lips were, and I guessed that Jake’s looked the same. Add in the fucked up bed hair, and then two tears that slipped free and ran down my face.

“What the fuck did you do..”

But Sam wasn’t talking to me. He was looking past me.

“What did you do?!”

The few of our friends that were left lingering in the garage were all staring at us.

“Party’s over! GET OUT!” I flinched. I’d never heard Sam yell, not in anger. Everyone jumped and hustled through the side door until we were alone, and Sam took one deep breath before speaking.

“T, come here, are you okay?”

I didn’t move, just nodded my head and wiped furiously at my cheeks. “Yes, I’m fine, I- I just wanted to tell you I was leaving.” He came to me and wrapped his arms around my shoulders.

“What did you do?” I knew he was speaking to Jake, still standing silently behind me.

“Sam, I don’t know what you’re thinking but-“

“Why is she fucking crying?”

I broke free of his hold and stopped him. “Sam, it’s okay. I’m fine, I swear. I’m going home.” I grabbed my bag from the floor beside the couch and flung it over my shoulder, lifted the garage door and slipped out.

I didn’t stop running until I reached my driveway.

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