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bluesidez · 27 days

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GymRat!Miguel Part 3

content warning: small food mentions, a little suggestive at parts so MINORS BEWARE, sexual tension?? 😗, insecure thoughts about a plus size body (may or may not be triggering for some), a few mean girls, college party, alcohol, drugs, mentions of throw up like once, a bad look for sororities (sorry, y'all are probably very wonderful people)

word count: 3.2k (NOT A DRABBLE WTF 😭) not proofread, if you see a mistake lmk

GymRat!Miguel's workout playlist is here! I had to stop myself from adding more songs because it’s already so long lol. I didn't even include any cool down songs.

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GymRat!Miguel who wakes up without having to hobble to the bathroom for once. No morning wood because his dream of you was soft this time. You two were cuddled up on a couch with the world’s most fluffy blanket. He smiles to himself as he drags his feet to the bathroom. It was if dancing clouds and bubbles were floating around his head.

GymRat!Miguel who’s able to sit and chat with Ms. Beatrice longer today because his class doesn’t start until that after noon. He compliments her on the egg sandwich from the other day and she squeezes his cheeks when she thanks him as if he were a baby.

GymRat!Miguel who tinkers in the engineering building as he waits for lunch. He joined the small but mighty robotics team as soon as he found out there was one. There was a fighting robot division, and he needed to figure out the problems with his team’s robot sooner rather than later.

GymRat!Miguel who spots you at the student center having your lunch. He wastes no time to grab his food and book it to your table. He calls your name before he gets there, not wanting to startle you. You smile when you look up surprised to see him there.

"Can I join you?" he says, trying not to seem out of breath with how fast his heart is beating.

"Yeah," you say, arranging your things around. You push your computer to the side as he places his burito bowl on the table. "I'm finally getting to see you outside of lab."

In his mind, he takes a note of you being in the student center at this time. He wants to make eating with you a routine thing.

"What were you watching?" he asks, trying to curb the rush that your presence has on him. He opened up his bowl and started to mix his food, waiting patiently for your answer.

"This is a little embarrassing but," you pause to dump one of your nuggets in sauce. "I was watching someone explain the downfall of Chuck E. Cheese." Your voice gets softer as you finish your sentence, eyes avoiding his gaze.

You were so cute. And it's almost as if you've never met him, the ultimate nerd.

"Nothing wrong with wanting to know why more and more locations went from five animatronics to one. Or how they started to sell their pizzas under ghost kitchens," he says, taking a bite from his bowl.

You looked at him and your smile grew. Miguel could only think 'there she is. there's my girl.'

The two of you chatted about everything from malfunctioning Chuck E's to your classes to your food. Miguel was through the roof.

GymRat!Miguel who offers to carry your art portfolio case for you to the art building. Anything to extend your time together. Plus, why should you have to hold it when he's here? He holds the doors for you and presses the elevator buttons before you can even think to.

GymRat!Miguel who really loves when the elevator door closes and he can look down at as you talk away. Just for those few seconds, the outside world is quiet and it's just you two. In another world, he'd kiss you before the doors open. In another world, he'd tilt your head up and have you look at him when you speak, he wanted to read your eyes too.

You're staring at him expectantly, eyes reminding him of baby deers. He tilts his head at you, wondering why you're staring at him.

"Miguel the door is open. We have to leave before it closes," you say.

He's instantly broke back to reality.

"Right! Sorry," he says, heat rising on the back of his neck. He steps out and holds his hand in front of the opening so that the door doesn't close you.

"Thank you," you say, a giggle under your breath.

Miguel has done some pretty embarrassing things when it comes to you, but he didn't think it would bleed into when he was actually in front of you.

In this world, he needed to not give you the creeps. Get it together.

GymRat!Miguel who is ecstatic that you still want to come work out with him. You all plan to meet that Friday. You don't know what you want to work out, but you say you're excited. Miguel has tonight, Wednesday, and Thursday to plan the perfect workout for you.

Should he go buy a bottle so he can make you a smoothie? Or should he offer to buy you a smoothie afterwards? Do you even like smoothies? Maybe he should invite you to breakfast. Would you want to eat right after you worked out? You needed to eat to make sure you can speed up the healing process though....

GymRat!Miguel who waves you goodbye when it's almost time for your studio class to start, mind filled with so many questions.

Your friend turns to you immediately when Miguel is gone.

"And who was that?" she says, eyes shocked.

"He's a guy from my lab. His name is Miguel," you say, grinning in your hands. You felt like kicking your feet in the air, but alas, no time.

"He's super hot. Like, seriously," your friend says, moving her taboret next to her workspace. "I would hit it. Constantly."

"Please stop talking," you say, laughing along. "I'm not even sure if he goes for girls like me. I'd rather not get my hopes up." You wanted to keep yourself in reality and falling for Miguel might put you too close to the land of delusion. You figured that Miguel was just super nice, especially after you two worked so hard for that lab project.

Your friend stops and looks at you, she slams the liquin tin on the table and puts her hand on her hip.

"First of all, those "types of guys" love big girls, so don't give me that. Second of all, are you not seeing how he looks at you. He's giving you the biggest puppy dog eyes, like, ever." She picks the liquin tin back up and starts scooping aggressively at the sides. "You gotta be more confident! You're gorgeous, anyone with a functioning brain can see that."

You stand there stunned, shocked at your friend's outburst. "I am confident!" Partially true. "I just...don't want to be hurt."

"I understand that, but have you even asked if he likes you or not?"

You shake your head no.

"Exactly. The night is still young," your friend says, pointing her palette knife at you. "And if you don't go for it, I will."

"Oh my god, shut up," you say, throwing a crumbled shop towel at her. You still kept her words in the back of your mind, storing it for later.

GymRat!Miguel who paces in front of the campus gym, waiting for your arrival. He got up extra early and gave himself a pep talk in the mirror. It wasn't a date, per se, but he felt that it could lead to one if he played his cards right. He decided to just invite you out to eat, figuring you would bring your stickered-water bottle.

GymRat!Miguel who spots you before you even call his name. He waves, smile taking over his features. You wave back, and it isn't until you're ten steps away that he finally takes in your full outfit. Another two-piece that was going to be the death of him, the only thing was that this was in the flesh. He cursed under his breath before you got closer, brain short-circuiting at the fabric hugging your skin.

"Ready to go?" he asks, forcing himself to not look at your body and to look at your face.

"Yeah! I'm a little nervous but I'm ready to work," you say, following him to the door.

He opens the doors for you, "Nothing to be nervous about. You're in good hands."

He brings you to his locker so you can put your bag in there, not wanting anyone to snag your belongings.

You guys start at the track, walking a lap as a warm up. Usually Miguel would do a lap or two of jogging, and as much as he wanted to watch you bounce, especially on him, this was a beginner workout. He didn't want to scare you with how intense he can get. While walking, you guys chatted about little things. Miguel tells you how wasn't nearly this big four years ago, ensuring you that the path to get here can be hard. You tell him that you just want be healthy, not caring if you lost weight or gained muscle. Miguel was secretly happy to hear this because he liked your body the way it was, but he would roll with whatever you were feeling.

GymRat!Miguel who helps you stretch. You both sit on the floor and face each other with your feet touching. Miguel saw how much smaller your feet were compared to his and his heart fluttered. His mind was filled with a million voices rambling off new things about you.

"She's focusing so hard"

"How can a gym outfit be so hot"

"She's so close to me when we do this stretch"

"Her hands are so warm"

"Maybe I should have stretched her from behind too"

That last thought gets Miguel to move you guys to the next part of the routine. How is his head always in the gutter?

GymRat!Miguel who starts you off with dumbbells, giving you the 5 lb weights to start. He starts you off with a few shoulder and arm exercises, giving you tips and praise along the way. His touches linger on your arms as he corrects your form, watching your body intensely. His constant "good"s, "one more''s, and "uh huh"s hit you right in your core. You're thankful that you're out of breath and heated from the workout, otherwise you would have melted before him.

GymRat!Miguel who pulls out all of the stops, using the heavier weights for his sets. He screams on the inside when you cheer him on. You clap at the end of one of his harder sets, happy that he pushed himself. He bows in silly way, sweat dripping down his face and laughing at your actions.

GymRat!Miguel who spots you while you use a heavier weight to do squats. You wanted to go for the 15 lb weight even though it was your first time doing weighted squats. He didn't want you to fall over, so he stood behind you and held his hands in the air by your waist as you went down. He knew that he was supposed to be focused, but he couldn't help but to glance at your ass a few times. God.

GymRat!Miguel who ends off your workout with the bikes, you guys making it a small competition. He stands and cycles, watching as your jaw dropped. You started to stand but got a little scared and gave up quick. Miguel couldn't have that. He stopped moving and got up to be by your side.

"You got it! Don't be scared," he says, watching you work.

"I literally can't do that," you say, cycling a little faster.

"Sure you can! Try it, I'm right here," he says, encouraging you.

You fight your fear and stand up and cycle. "Oh my god," you say, breaths coming out hard.

"That's it, that's it," Miguel says, voice warm as he praises you. "You're doing so good. Keep going."

You push until you can't anymore, Miguel cheering at your side.

GymRat!Miguel who guides you to the showers after your workout. It sucks that he can't be in there with you. His imagination can only get him so far.

GymRat!Miguel who waits for you to come out of the bathroom, ready to ask you to go for smoothies and breakfast. He hopes you say yes.

GymRat!Miguel who is in awe again at how you look. How many two-piece sets did you have? How does he survive them every single time? He mutters up the courage to ask you if you wanted to go get smoothies, adding on that he would pay. You glow and say yes, stating that you love smoothies. He's soaring.

GymRat!Miguel who brings your food to the table, two wraps and two smoothies. A protein shake for him and a fruit smoothie for you.

"That was a really good workout today. You definitely put me to work," you say, unwrapping the straw to stab it through the top. You hum at the flavor as you take a sip.

"Good?" Miguel asks, and you nod your head with your thumb up. "I'm glad you liked the workout. I was excited to have a partner."

"A partner? Why didn't you invite us to join?"

You both look up to see a few girls standing by the checkout counter. Miguel notices them as the sorority girls from his literature class. They walk over to your table, eyes twinkling as they take in Miguel.

Miguel chuckles awkwardly, not knowing what to say. He didn't think he had to deal with them outside of class too.

One of the girls look at you and goes, "Oo are you a personal trainer?"

You're taken aback, eyes scanning between the girls. You're about to open your mouth to respond but Miguel gets to them first.

"No, we're workout partners," he says, snapping at the girl. "And we're kind of having a conversation right now so is there anything else that you guys want to say?"

The girl cowers a bit at Miguel's words, laughing as if he told a joke and twirling her hair. The leader of the pack turns to Miguel, "Sorry about that. We wanted to see if you could come to our party tomorrow night. It'll be super fun and we would love to see you there."

A party? Miguel hadn't gone to one since he moved on campus. He always wanted to experience a college one. He turned to you and saw that you just tapped at your phone, not looking to the girls.

"I'll go if I can bring her," Miguel says, tapping his foot against yours. You look up, shock in your eyes,

Some of the girls slump, and the leader tightens her smile, "Fine! That's cool. I'll send you the details later."

The girls walk off and you stare at them, eyes squinting.

"They're an interesting bunch aren't they?" you say, continuing to eat your wrap.

"Right?" Miguel says, turning back to you.

GymRat!Miguel who comes to your dorm, ready to walk you to the party. He knocks on your door, a little nervous. He had on a nice top, the top open a little bit and a thin chain around his neck. After a while, you opened the door and gobsmacked him again with your outfit.

"Wow," he says, standing in the door like an idiot.

"Is it bad?" you ask, body glowing.

"No, you look amazing," Miguel says. "Ready to go?" He holds his arm out, softly smiling at you.

You nod and intertwine your arm through his.

GymRat!Miguel who takes in the atmosphere, frat guys yelling by a pool table, a few girls dancing with red solo cups, some people making out on the couch.

For Miguel, it was a lot.

He turned to you, yelling to ask if you wanted a drink. You say yes and you both make your way to the kitchen.

There, you both are met with the sorority girls crowding the kitchen. Some of them are passing some pills around and others are chatting by the island. One of them looks up and sees you guys lingering by the entrance.

"Miguel! You made it! Come on have a drink," she pulls him closer in the room. "Want a xannie?"

"I'm good," he says, handing you a cup of Pink Whitney. You take a sip and turn your nose a little bit. You might have to suck it up to get through the night.

"I'm so glad you made it. I have something that I've been meaning to show you," she says, batting her eyes. She convinces him to follow her up the stairs.

Miguel yells over his shoulder that he'll be right back.

You stand in the kitchen, fingers tapping against your cup. You felt a little silly and out of place. You didn't know anyone else here and the people were cliquey.

You joined a few games of beer pong, trying to enjoy yourself, but you couldn't help but to think about Miguel.

You dance a little, joining some random girls in the middle of the room. The music is ok, but you were just trying to have a good time. After an hour or so, you get nervous. Miguel hasn't been back in a while.

You head back to the kitchen, thinking maybe he could be in there.

"If you're looking for Miguel, he's probably deep in a bed right now," one girl giggles as she comes up beside you, grabbing another drink.

"What?" you say, eyebrows furrowed.

"Yeah girl, why else would he be gone so long? I tried to go up there and the doors were locked. Just text him tomorrow."

Your hand grips your cup tighter, watching as the girl goes back into the thick of the crowd.

You decide to wait a little longer, scrolling on the same three apps back to back for another hour. You look at the time again and the 3 am stares back at you mockingly.

You figure that he's really not coming back down and open your Instagram to give him a text.

“Hey Miguel! I’m gonna go ahead and go back to my dorm. It's getting pretty late."

You walk back to your dorm, arms wrapped around yourself to brace from the cold.

GymRat!Miguel who finally makes it to a bathroom that's not occupied with some one hovering over the toilet. He feels out of it. Throwing back a few too many shots. He was trying to get back downstairs but there was always someone there to pull him back, offering something.

A shot? Sure.

A pill? No.

A game? Maybe.

The girl who brought him up there tried her best to get in his pants, but if he was being honest, he didn't even remember her name. Or any of the names of the girls that came in afterwards. He declined every one of them, just wanting to get some air.

He was able to check his phone.

3:35 am.

He sees your message and feels sick. He runs downstairs and out the door, the cool air sobering him up a bit.

"Fuck," he says hands to his head. He squats and texts you back.

"I am so sorry. I got caught up. Did you make it back safely?"

It was so late, there was no way you would respond. He fucked up.

He texted Gabriel, maybe his drunk mind pushing him to seek help from his little brother.

"So if I invite a girl to a party and leave her what are the chances that she will text me back? :((("

"Dude. It's almost 4am. And where is this so-called game that you have? Ik you're not asking me about anything"

"Gabri :(((("

"I'll be honest, she's probably blocking your number. IF she even has it lol"

Yeah. He fucked up.

dividers by: @yeribbon 🩵

a/n: Miguel's gym playlist is such a jarring difference from my own gym playlist. 😭 I left you guys with an extra long addition today because I have soooo much hw that's piling up and it's tearing me apart.

As always, leave a like and reblog. Leave comments please. 🥺 I want to see your reactions! Let me know how you feel. 🩵

taglist: @ghost-lantern @miguelhugger2099 @slushycoookie @emelie-s-h @lake-lili @obsessed-with-miguels-ass @scaleniusrm @superiorspiderass @lexluvswriting @flordelalunas @froggygal @vmpz8sauceee @famouscattale @nixinluv02 @jada-of-arcadia @spideykid22 @what-the-jams @julia4today @tojishugetiddies @samjinxx @sleeklyalisha @the-pan-liquid @prongs-lover @kikaaauu @urlocallocachica @wanderlustingcastaway @peachey-pie @ch3rry-bl1ss @girl-of-multi-fandoms @love-kha1 @manlikemilesmyguy @sillysillygoofygoose @monticellohoe

#love lab drabbles 💊#GymRat!Miguel 💪🏾#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x plussize!reader #miguel o’hara x chubby!reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #plus size reader #chubby reader #spiderman 2099 au #spiderman 2099 x you #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara au #miguel o'hara x chubby reader

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undreaming-fanfiction · 1 year

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Eddie hated this and he'd just started.

See, he was so proud when he made it, when he got his first office job. He saw what decades of physical labor did to Wayne's back, his hands, and he wanted to make his uncle proud. So he kept applying and applying and getting ignored and rejected and finally, finally he got a job in a pretty large corporate. Not exactly something prestigious, but hey, it had potential. The experience counted and all that.

He thought maybe workplaces would be different, that the good ol' high school dynamic would fuck off, but no. He was sitting at his desk, trying to fill in paperwork after a taxing phone call, but all he could focus on was whispering from the neighboring cubicle that was ostentatiously loud. He didn't know who sat there yet, the guy had been on vacation for the two weeks Eddie was in the company. From the stuff he was hearing, he was getting introduced anyway and not exactly the way he'd have liked to be.

"Can you believe they actually let him work here?" It was Carol, of course it was, the office gossip and mean girl knockoff. "I mean, he doesn't even look decent! Did you see that hair?" Okay, that hurt. He actually pulled his hair into a neat bun every morning, but you can't please some people. "And he has tattoos, what would our customers think if they actually met him, plus you should have heard the rumors about his past-!"

But just as he was about to slam down the pile of paperwork and either take an extended smoke break or gently ask Carol to go fuck a polar bear, he heard another voice. Bored and wonderfully bitchy.

"That's absolutely fascinating, Carol. Please tell me more, what could this guy possibly have done? It must be something juicy. Did he perhaps fuck his boss during the Christmas party and then lie about it to his boyfriend of five years? Oh wait no. That was you. Silly me."

Eddie had to bite his pencil to stay quiet, but his whole chest hurt by trying to keep the snickering in. And then the offended gasp. "I- you promised you wouldn't-!"

"I didn't promise shit, Carol. You just came to me, cried your eyes out - bad move by the way, invest in some waterproof mascara for god's sake, mascara in wrinkles doesn't good on anyone, and yes, you do have wrinkles - and tried to play the victim. Except I heard your small proposition to the guy before so it didn't really work out. But it's fine, you know," and oooh, the tone was smug, so bored, Eddie loved this guy already, "Tommy saw you as well and had a good time with Nicole to get even. So there's nothing to worry about. Now tell me, what did this horrible Eddie Munson do to summon wrath of such a righteous woman such as yourself?"

Eddie heard a sharp sound as Carol got up from the desk. "Fuck you, Steve Harrington," she spat out and sped past Eddie's seat. He just gave her a small salute.

When the sound of high heels faded, Eddie leaned over the cubicle wall and knocked to draw the guy's attention. And yeah, maybe he was a little bit biased because he'd just obliterated a textbook definition of a shrew, but this Steve was fucking gorgeous, light brown eyes looking at him, a smug smirk tugging at his lips.

"Oh hi," said Steve and offered his hand, shaking Eddie's. "Sorry for that. I'm Steve Harrington and whatever deepest, darkest secrets you're hiding, I don't care, I'm pretty sure I've heard them all. What did you do? Shave your head in school? Join a cult? Cut dolls apart and chant hail Satan?"

That had Eddie laughing again, but he still had an introduction to make. A proper one. "Nice to meet you, Steve. Eddie Munson, and I'm worse than your darkest nightmares. I sometimes wear socks in sandals."

Steve's eyebrow twitched. "Oh, Carol was right, you are a monster!" he muttered. "Speaking of monsters..." His head leaned to the side, towards Carol who was angrily carrying her coffee mug, her mascara running again.

Before he could catch himself, Eddie leaned over the wall and whispered as loudly as he could muster. "Can you believe some people wear dotted dresses with stripes on their stockings? We can't all be born with taste, I guess...tragic."

And again, maybe Eddie was just biased, but Steve's laughter was so pretty that it actually made dealing with Carol's bullshit worth it.

#steddie #steddie au #steddie drabble #corporate au #coworkers au #stranger things #stranger things au #stranger things drabble #yeah so I'm crazy busy and kind of not doing too well #so this is not proofread #but I wanted to put something small together so here you go

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exhaslo · 3 months

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Oh heyy, just wanted to say that i loved the chubby baker x miguel where he hates sweets and i was wondering of if you could do like a pt 2 to it where Miguel and baker are married and she’s like in her second or third trimester of pregnancy and she’s now starting to lactate and it turns miguel the fuck up mainly bc his spider dna is like “oooh sweets ew but wifey sweet taste yes” so he just like swoops in and pretends to give her a massage but instead gives her one of the best fucks she could imagine ????????

Okay, I can do this, but I don't quite feel too comfortable with sex during pregnancy. I know it happens, but I just can't see myself being able to write that, but I will still work with your request, just tweak it a little.

Also, so sorry for getting to this so late! I had so many requests at the same time!!!

Part 1

Warning: MINORS DNI, Smut, p in v, masturbation praise, rough sex, creampie, breeding kink, lactation, shower sex, mating press

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Sometimes you still felt like Miguel was an Angel. He entered your life and gave you everything you've ever wanted in a man. So perfect, that you had to question if you were dreaming every time you saw him before you.

When Miguel asked you to marry him, it felt like a dream come true. He gave you the fairy tale wedding that every little child desired. It did make you slightly embarrassed since now all of your friends and family knew that you had a rich husband.

Your honeymoon was nothing short of relax. Miguel was skeptical about leaving the city alone for the week, but you had managed to convince him otherwise. He took you to your dream vacation spot and an all exclusive package to everything.

Plus, the endless nights of rough, non-stop sex, made you go over the moon. You swore you lost weight from all the special 'exercise' but gained it all back whenever Miguel filled you to the brim. It made your heart flutter, but your cheeks fluster at the thought.

Thanks to that special week, you immediately got pregnant. Both you and Miguel were over the moon with the news. The amount of pampering and extra care you received made you cry sometimes. Never had you thought you get so lucky with Miguel.

"Miggy? Can you try this batch for me, please?" You begged, taking out some scones from the oven.

The further into your pregnancy, the worse your cravings and taste buds got. You weren't sure if this was an effect of carrying Miguel's baby since his DNA was half spider, or if it was just a pregnancy thing, but it was affecting your work.

Sometimes you cried since you couldn't taste your own sweets. You had wanted to make sure everything was good for your customers, but it was proving difficult. Some of the bully teenagers even made fun of you because of it.

Miguel put a stop to the bullies and offered to be your taste tester, despite his dislike for sweets.

"Of course, baby." Miguel hummed, kissing your cheek, "Why don't you sit, you've been on your feet for a while?"

"I-I'm okay," You whimpered, offering him a scone. Miguel took a bite, making eye contact with you the whole time,

"Delicious," He hummed and picked you up, carrying you to the couch, "Don't worry, baby, you'll be able to enjoy all your sweets soon."

"I-I know," You cried softly, going through a little mood swing.

Miguel comforted you as you cried, enjoying having his plump wife in his embrace. Hearing you sniffed and whine, Miguel glanced down at you and noticed your shirt getting soaked by where your breasts were.

"N-Not again!" You cried some more.

Miguel's eyes widen as he felt something in him stir into a frenzy. His grip around you grew tighter as he whispered sweet words into your ear to calm you down. Miguel could feel his heart rate increase as a new sweet scent caught his attention.

"I...I have to go to work. Let me know if you need anything," Miguel groaned lowly as he released you once you calmed down.

"Okay, love you."

"Love you more," Miguel pecked your lips before heading out.

--------

Not even swinging through the city could calm Miguel down. He had to stop on top of a building to ease his burning erection. This was the first time Miguel had seen you lacerate. Who would have thought that you would smell so sweet?

Miguel hissed as he pumped his cock at the thought of you under him again. It had been so long since his dick was inside you. Miguel didn't want to risk anything with the baby. It was hard for him to restrain himself, especially now that he was infatuated with your new sweet scent.

"(Y/n)!" Miguel moaned as he pumped his hand faster.

His cute chubby little wife, so needy and so delicious. Feeling his fangs poke out, Miguel just wanted to fuck another baby into your already. Your cries of pleasure eluding him for the moment. Cussing lowly, Miguel panted as he cam against the wall.

"Fuck,"

This looked pathetic. Miguel couldn't control himself around his precious wife. Once you gave birth, Miguel was going to have to treat you to a job well done, by filling you up again.

----------

You felt exhausted. After giving birth to your son, all you felt like doing was sleeping. During the last month of your pregnancy, you felt like eating and eating and eating, to the point where you were sobbing at your weight.

Miguel had to comfort you so much that you felt bad, but now, you gave birth to his son and all you felt like doing was sleeping. The stress of it all had gotten to you, but Miguel was there to carry both you and your child home.

Once you got home, your son started crying for food. You whimpered softly from being woken up and took your son to feed. Miguel was right behind you the whole time, kissing your neck as he watched his son drink from your breasts.

"I hope you're not too tired, baby," Miguel hummed, nibbling your ear, "I think you deserve an award."

"Miggy~" You cooed, finishing with your son, "Let me shower first-"

"We can start there."

Miguel felt lust consume his common sense as he followed you to the shower. Your sweet scent distracting him from anything else. His hands were all over you the moment you stepped into the bathroom squeezing each part of your body.

"M-Miguel...D-Don't squeeze the baby fat...I-I-"

"Am beautiful? Perfect?" Miguel captured your lips in a deep kiss as he turned the water on, "Fucking ready to be eaten,"

"Mhm~ W-What's gotten into you?" You asked with a soft laugh. Miguel nearly tore your clothes off, pressing you against the shower wall,

"I've been so patient," He groaned, kissing down your chest, "(Y/N), you've been driving me crazy with your sweet scent. I just want to gobble you up,"

"Sweet scent?" You questioned, but gasped as Miguel started to suck on your breasts, "M-Miguel~!"

"Fuck, baby, you taste even better."

You gasped and moaned as Miguel started to rut against you, his hands and mouth all over your breasts. You had wrapped your arms and legs around Miguel, arching your body against the shower wall. You whimpered as he started to bite,

"M-Miguel, g-gentle please," You begged.

Miguel glanced up at you with blown pupils. His look was screaming lust as he licked up your milk. Bringing his lips against yours, Miguel shoved his tongue into your mouth as his dick started to slid into your tight gummy walls.

"Ah, I missed you so much," Miguel groaned, his lips unmoving from yours.

You felt yourself getting slight dizzy from both the shower heat and Miguel's antics. His hands gripped your ass as he bottomed out inside of you. Miguel swallowed your moans as he started to slap his dick into you.

"Fuck, look at my precious wife. Taking me in so well after so long. Such a good girl,"

"M-Miggy~ mhm~" You moaned, burying your head into his shoulder.

"The best baker giving me the best dessert."

You gasped sharply as Miguel hit your sweet spot, fucking that spot repeatedly. You tighten around his dick, crying out in pleasure as he kept filling you, kissing your cervix and kissing you.

It didn't take long for him to draw out your first orgasm. You were gasping for air, enjoying your high. Miguel grunted as he returned to your breasts, pounding his cock into your convulsing pussy, determined to fill you.

"Not done, baby." Miguel grunted, coating your insides white.

You shook in pleasure, holding onto to Miguel tightly. He brought you in for another kiss, turning the shower off. His hands were still all over you as he kept you on his cock. Miguel brought you over to the bed, setting a towel down first,

"You're squeezing me so much, baby. Doing so, so good." Miguel started to babble as he pressed you into mating position.

"Ah~ M-Miguel~!" You cried out, feeling him push himself deeper into you.

"Lets put another baby into you. Our son is going to need a sibling," Miguel chuckled lowly.

You arched your back as you moaned in pleasure once Miguel started his charade of rough thrusts again. Miguel held your arms above your head as he kept sucking the milk out of your breasts, groaning in pleasure.

"That's right baby, you did such a good job with our son. Enjoy your reward."

---------

You weren't sure how much longer you could last. Miguel had kept bulling his cock into you for what felt like hours. You swore you saw stars, heaven and whatever else from your many orgasms. Your body was so numb at this point, that it would probably collapse if Miguel wasn't holding you up.

"(Y/N)!" Miguel moaned as he filled you once more.

Panting heavily as he painted your insides white, Miguel finally pulled out. A smirk formed against his lips as he watched his cum spill out of your abused cunt. Glancing at the time, Miguel winced as picked you up, taking you back to the shower.

"Mig..."

"Sorry, I went overboard again," Miguel apologized as he set the water up, "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"Mhm," You muffled lowly as Miguel sat you between his legs in the bath, "So...you don't like sweets...but my breast milk made you go crazy?" You asked with a small laugh. Miguel felt flustered as he started to clean you,

"Yes," He admitted shamefully, "You smelled so, so good. I had to hold back so much." Miguel groaned, his fangs grazing your shoulder.

"I guess I'm just that good of a baker," You joked, shivering as his hands started to rub your clit, "Miguel~!"

"Just once more, please?" He begged, kissing your shoulder gently. You huffed your cheeks out since your body was already exhausted,

"J-Just once more!"

"That's my lovely wife~"

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Sorry this was so late again!! Trying to catch up as much as possible, haha. I hope you enjoyed!!!

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara smut #miguel spiderman #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #miguel x reader

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navybrat817 · 1 year

Text

What Goes Around

Pairing: BFD/DBF!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky is your friend's dad and your dad's friend and nothing more. Until he isn't. Word Count: Over 6.2k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, vaginal unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), semi-public sex, possessive behavior, dirty talk, light Daddy kink, age gap (reader is in early 20's and Bucky late 40's), arguing, light violence, swearing, conflicted reader (everything is consensual!), everyone is a mess, Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: Woohoo! Stepped out of my comfort zone a bit on this and I'm so proud! Thank you to @sweeterthanthis , @dreamlessinparis , @buckyownsmylife, @targaryenvampireslayer , @christywantspizza , @sgt-seabass , @lookiamtrying for listening to me ramble about this. Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thank you as well), but any and all mistakes are my own. Banner and moodboard by yours truly. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated! ***Any soft!dark undertones are unintentional as everything is consensual.***

You met Bethany Barnes your freshman year of college. While some of the girls on your floor knew each other, you went off to university not knowing a soul and had to be assigned a roommate. Your nerves shot up when you walked into the shared room. Beth, as she preferred to be called, was intimidatingly beautiful. You hadn't met any supermodels, but she could've chosen that as her profession with her tall, slender build, long auburn hair, and sparkling blue eyes.

Your nervousness faded when she smiled and gave you a hug, after asking if it was okay.

"You're here!" she smiled more when she pulled away, looking over your shoulder at who you thought was your dad. "By the closet."

You weren't normally stunned silent by looking at a person, but that was what happened when you met James "Bucky" Barnes. With the beard and quiet confidence in which he carried himself, you would've mistaken him for a professor had it not been for the fact that he was in the dormitory. Call it instant attraction or lust, but you found yourself openly staring at the handsome man as he carried a box into the room. He gazed at you, too, or so you thought. Your mind may have been playing tricks on you.

"Dad, quit staring at my roommate. That's weird."

The needle on the record scratched. Her dad. You could see where she got her good looks. He was taller and broader, his hair dark brown instead of auburn, and eyes a deeper shade of blue. One of the hottest men to ever grace the earth, if anyone asked for your opinion.

It didn't matter how good looking he was. This was Beth's dad. It put him in the "look, but don't touch" column.

Your dad, Dave, appeared moments later and introduced himself. Bucky was kind enough to help him with the rest of your stuff and even offered to buy lunch. While he didn't look the least bit upset about leaving, it was clear your dad was having a tough time holding it together and even had tears in his eyes. You understood. It was the two of you for so long and now you were out the door.

Beth put a hand on his arm and gave him a small smile to ease his worries.

"Hey. Your daughter and I will look out for each other, okay? You have nothing to worry about. Plus, I think we're going to be good friends."

She was right.

To your surprise, you discovered that Beth only lived about an hour away from your hometown. Like you, Beth didn't know anyone, but she was friendly and welcoming. Definitely more outgoing than you would ever be. Her popularity grew quickly, but the two of you were there for each other like she promised. While you had lost your mother, hers took off when she was so young she couldn't even remember her face. Bucky did the best he could to raise her. Like your dad had done for you.

Maybe that was why they became such good friends, too.

The two of you traded off different weekends at each other's houses when you left campus and spent a few holidays together. You did a couple of summer trips with your dads doing their best not to be overbearing. Eventually Beth joined a sorority and moved into the chapter's house, so you no longer lived together. Bucky suggested that your dad move closer to his place when he decided to sell the house, that way everyone could still spend time together.

"You wouldn't mind, would you?" your dad asked at the time.

You didn't at the time. It still gave everyone a chance to hang out and your dad seemed to need it more than you. He admired Bucky for being self-made, having a nice house, and a good job. It was as if the man's confidence rubbed off on him. He began to dress better and get in shape. He mentioned possibly dating again, which you encouraged. Your dad deserved to be happy.

You couldn't have predicted it would all go to hell after graduation.

You nursed your wine as you sat at the bar, staring into the abyss of the liquid as you swirled it around. Maybe if you looked long enough, you'd forget about tonight. It should have been an evening of celebration for you. Nothing major, but it was something that meant the world to you.

"I think you need something stronger."

You stayed silent when you turned to your right, slightly surprised when you saw none other than Bucky take a seat beside you. The citrus scent of his cologne filled your nostrils when he moved his stool close enough that your knees touched. Up close, even with the dim bar lightning, you could see the gray hairs in his trimmed beard and perfectly coiffed brown hair. Of all the people you expected to see, he certainly wasn't one of them.

"What are you doing here?" you asked.

"I thought you could use a friend."

"Are we friends?" You asked softly.

Hurt flashed in his eyes, which filled you with guilt. "I thought we were."

You weren't sure if you would label Bucky as a friend, but you cared for the man. He had been good to you over the years, staying up with you and watching movies when you couldn't sleep or listening to you ramble on about your papers, internship, resume, while Beth pampered herself. He gave advice when you asked and listened when you only wanted to talk.

You didn't need to be rude to him.

"We are," you wanted to assure him and you felt a bit better when his shoulders relaxed. "How did you even know where to find me?"

"You rushed off before dinner started and you mentioned that you liked this place," he replied, like it was obvious. "We were supposed to be celebrating. We didn't get all dressed up for nothing," he teased, gesturing to himself and drawing your attention to his large body as you smiled a little.

Over the last few years, you got used to seeing different looks from him. Jeans and shirts tight enough to see the muscles underneath, sweatpants that hung low enough to let the imagination wander, swim trunks when you went on vacation, and even the occasional suit. He opted for a dark blue suit tonight that matched his eyes, but skipped the tie. It wasn't a look many could pull off and he did it with ease.

You blinked and shook your head, trying not to pay attention to how good he looked. Just because you were upset didn't mean you had a right to check him out. It was wrong to be attracted to him and you refused to acknowledge it. Mainly because he was one of your dad's best friends and one of your best friend's dads.

No, she's not my best friend. Not anymore.

“We even kind of match,” he smiled to himself.

You glanced down at your short, sleeveless dress. It wasn’t revealing or flashy, but you felt beautiful in it. The shade of blue was close to his suit. Part of you felt silly for dressing up for a simple dinner.

"I guess we do," you said softly, looking at your glass again.

“Surprised the boys aren’t lining up for a chance with you,” he said.

You snorted, thankful you didn’t take a sip of your wine. You would’ve spit it out. “The boys have never lined up for me, but it’s okay. I’m used to it.”

Boys usually talked to you to get closer to Beth.

“Their loss,” Bucky said sincerely as he held up a couple of fingers for the bartender.

“And we have nothing to celebrate,” you said, not wanting to dwell on your sad dating history.

"Bullshit," he said, ordering two shots of whiskey and setting some money on the counter once the bartender came over. "You got a job at Stark Industries. I'm proud of you."

Your cheeks heated at the praise. "Thank you," you said, sparing him a glance when he passed you a glass. "I already have a drink.”

“And I said it isn’t strong enough,” he hesitated as he picked up his own. “Beth said you weren’t much of a drinker. Not even on your 21st birthday. You were a good girl, weren’t you?”

You were conflicted as you listened. Did Bucky mean for that to be an innuendo? You chose to focus on Beth instead, and how angry you felt. How many nights did you hold her hair back while she puked?

“You're right. We should celebrate."

Bucky gave you a worried look as you picked up your drink.

Your cheeks ached from your wide smile. "To my dad and your daughter fucking each other. Cheers!"

You might as well address the elephant in the room since he wouldn't.

He frowned when you downed the shot, the burn spreading from the back of your throat to your chest. You half expected him to see a clench in his jaw or an embarrassed blush in his cheeks, but he merely threw his drink back and slammed the glass down when he finished. "You sure you don't want to do another toast? I don't think the entire bar heard you."

"Oh, I wouldn't want to make a scene. I did that already, remember?"

You hadn't seen Beth in months since you graduated. Neither of you landed dream jobs right away, but you did find temporary work to help cover the rent for your new place. You wanted to be independent and your dad supported you. But your friend hadn’t even seen your place.

Any time you reached out to meet up, she made an excuse why she couldn't join you or bailed at the last minute if she agreed. At first, you didn't take any offense. You figured she met a guy. She got like that sometimes over boys, but she had never gone that long without hanging out with you.

Maybe she had outgrown you after college.

Your dad sensed that you missed Beth and assured you that you'd see her soon. He planned a special dinner to celebrate you getting a job at Stark Industries. Beth promised she wouldn't miss it. You thought it was strange how easily she accepted your dad's invitation, but you discovered quickly that she wasn't there for you in the first place.

"Sweetie," your dad began as he slipped an arm around Beth's waist. "We have something we want to talk to you about. Beth and I are, well, we're seeing each other. Now I know that may be difficult to hear, especially since I haven't seen anyone serious since your mother, but…"

Your dad used to describe you as amicable and well-behaved when someone asked him about his daughter. No matter what life threw your way, you did your best to be friendly and stay out of trouble. It could have been before your mother was always kind and you did your best to follow in her footsteps. It often meant putting the needs of others before your own, but it never bothered you.

Until tonight.

Until you saw the ring on Beth's finger.

Beth, the girl who flashed boys from her sorority house window and blew off studying. The same girl who cried with you on the anniversary of your mom's death. She was going to marry your dad.

A slow moving storm began to swirl in your mind. You managed to hear your dad say that they began seeing each other the night of graduation and promised it wasn't sooner. It explained why Beth had blown you off all that time. They were trying to figure out how to tell you, but all they did was lie.

Outrage was a foreign feeling to you and you didn't know how to channel it. Were you supposed to scream? Cry? All you knew was that it clawed at your insides until it broke free.

Whatever you yelled was enough to make your dad step back in shock and Beth grab your arm to drag you outside. The porch light illuminated her enough to see the anger etched on her face. You didn't even recognize her.

"What the fuck? You've been fucking my dad?!" you yelled, snatching your arm back from her.

"Yeah, I'm fucking your dad!" she yelled back.

"How did this even happen?!" you demanded to know, immediately regretting asking a second later.

"After your graduation dinner, we were drinking and I said I always thought he was hot and-"

"God, stop!" you shrieked, covering your ears until her mouth stopped moving. "So, you two have been sneaking around behind my back and lying to me for months?!"

"We had to because we knew you'd lose your shit! I knew you wouldn’t be mature about this!"

You trembled as you took a step back. You weren't used to yelling or being yelled at. There were times that you and Beth bickered, but it was nothing like this.

And, of course, you'd lose your shit. What did she honestly expect? Was she the real reason your dad began to take better care of himself over the years?

"Why?" You asked almost timidly, a contrast to how you shouted moments ago. "I don't want to sound cliché, but you can have anyone you want. Why him?"

"Because I want him," she said unapologetically.

Beth, in the time you knew her, was never afraid to go after what or who she wanted. She also went all in with guys. She didn't believe in doing it half-ass. But your dad was far from her type, the opposite of the fuckboys she typically dated.

"My dad isn't one of those stupid boys who does lines of coke off your ass. He's a good man."

"I know he's a good man. That's why I'm marrying him," she snapped, holding up her hand for you to see the ring again. It was beautiful. If you had to guess, it was also expensive. "We just want your support."

You wondered what it would be like at times to have a stepmom. Whenever you envisioned it, your best friend never came to mind. Your dad had to be going through a midlife crisis. God, what would your mom say if she was alive? What did Bucky have to say?

"You're half his age!" you argued, the anger starting to surface again as you stepped forward and smacked her hand away. "What do you two possibly have in common?"

"A lot, actually," she said, clutching her hand against her chest. "You never had a problem with your dad and I hanging out in all the years we've been friends. And you wouldn't give a shit about his age if this was any other guy."

"But this isn't just any guy! This is my dad!" you argued, pleading with her to understand as your vision blurred. Didn’t she realize how awkward it was? What if they ended things? "And you're my best friend."

Beth bit her lip at the sight of your tears. "Your dad and I care about each other, okay? We deserve to be happy. And I care about you, too, but I'm not letting him go. I refuse to be like you."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" you demanded when you watched the sympathy leave her eyes.

When backed into a corner, Beth lashed out like an animal. Anyone who got too close got hurt. Unlucky for you, you knew you were about to be on the receiving end of her wrath.

"You spent all four years of college studying and being nice instead of living. You only had fun when I made it happen. You hardly dated. You're lucky you even got laid at all," she said, digging into your insecurities. It was tough for guys to look at you when Beth stood beside you. It made you wonder how long she felt this way about you. "Deep down, you’re just a fucking coward. Unlike you, I have the balls to go after what I want, so that's what I did. You should find a pair and do the same."

Your hand connected with Beth's cheek before you could stop yourself. Like a scene out of a movie, your dad opened the door in time for him to witness the slap. But it wasn't his hand that gripped your shoulder to pull you away.

It was Bucky’s.

Your hand stung as Beth dissolved into tears in your dad's arms. He looked disappointed in you and said as much as you tried to say something. You waited for Bucky to snap at you for hitting his daughter, but he stayed eerily silent as he looked at your hand.

Did he hate you now?

"I'm sorry," you whispered, pulling away before he could say a word.

You ducked inside long enough to grab your purse and take off before any of them could stop you. It was a coward's way out. Maybe Beth was right about you, after all.

"You didn't cause a scene," Bucky said, ordering you both another drink. "That being said, I didn't hear most of the argument, but I did see you hit Beth."

You winced a little and rubbed your palm against your thigh. It was the first time you ever hit someone. "I'm sorry for slapping her."

"Don't be. She deserved it," he said under his breath.

You didn't expect him to say that.

"Your dad is worried, you know," he said, surprising you again. "Said you aren't answering his calls."

"No, I'm not. I don't know what to say to him," you admitted, finally taking out your phone to glance at it. You had missed calls and texts from your dad and Beth, but you refused to listen to the voicemails or look at the messages. "I don't get it."

"What do you not get?" He asked curiously when you finally took your drink.

"Them," you said, allowing the alcohol to burn your throat again. "I don't get them together. Beth isn't. Well, she's not…"

"Your mother?" he guessed.

You looked in your lap with a sigh.

"No, she isn't, but maybe that isn't a bad thing. She won't try to be your mom. Just a partner to your dad," he said. Was your dad someone who could ground her? Was she someone who could make him feel younger? "They're consenting adults. And your dad is lonely. Has been for years."

It sounded like he was trying to placate you, but something in his voice kept you from calling him out. You knew your dad was lonely. Beth said something similar about Bucky.

"I think Beth is bringing him out of his shell," Bucky gently added.

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve hardly seen them in months,” you mumbled.

“They should’ve made time for you,” he said, putting his hand over yours. You didn’t dwell on how nice his touch felt since he pulled away just as quickly. “I should have, too. I’ve missed seeing you around the place.”

It wasn’t his job to make time for you.

“You’ve missed me?” you questioned, warmth spreading in your face as he smiled. It was nice to hear that. “I’ve missed you, too.”

“Though I have a feeling you won't want to stop by as much now to see me.”

"If I don't, it has nothing to do with you," you said.

"Sure," he smiled a little.

You examined him with a critical eye, trying to decipher what was going on in his head. Wouldn't it be awkward for him, too? Where was his anger at the situation? Was he hiding it?

"Why are you not upset? She's your daughter."

He gave you a wistful smile and had his drink. A drop of liquid stayed on his lip and you were tempted to wipe it away. Or lick it away. You couldn't act on those urges, especially after the way you went off on Beth. It would be hypocritical.

"Just because I’m not letting it show doesn’t mean I’m not upset. Truth is, I can’t control what Beth does. She stopped listening to me a long time ago. And if I tried to force her to let Dave go, it would make her want him more," he explained, his jaw twitching. "I had a few choice words for him since he kept it from you."

"Wait," you swung in your chair and almost landed in his lap. His hands gripped your arms to steady you, but he didn't let go. "Because he kept it from me? Not you?"

Bucky gave you a single nod, making your heart crack.

"So you knew?" you asked, sadness bubbling up this time instead of anger.

"I did. I’m sorry."

Why would they tell Bucky and not you? Did they expect him to be more mature? Was he the lesser of the two evils or worse?

“How long have you known?” you asked, moving off the stool with his help. “Why didn’t you say anything to me?”

“I’ve only known about their relationship for a couple of weeks,” he answered, trying to stop you when you put your phone in your bag. No wonder he wasn’t as upset. He had time to process the news. “Look, it wasn’t my place. You had enough on your mind with job interviews and I was-”

“You were what? Trying to protect me?”

“In a way, yeah,” he said, making you take a step back when he stood up. “I know how my daughter can be, but I didn’t expect them to pick your celebration dinner to tell you.”

“Tonight wasn’t about me,” you said with a bitter laugh. “It was never meant to be about me.”

Age gap and weirdness aside, you didn't want to say out loud that you felt pushed out. Your dad and Beth would be wrapped up in each other from now on. They already were. How would Beth be able to talk to you about romantic issues when those very issues involved your dad? Would your father make time for you? What if they decided to have a kid?

Were you wrong for thinking of yourself instead of being happy for them?

“Come here,” he whispered, embracing you in a comforting hug.

You were close to bursting into tears, shutting your eyes to keep them at bay. What were you supposed to do with the emotions you were feeling? And why did it feel so good to be in his arms?

“I don’t want to be mad at him,” you whispered.

“You won’t be mad at him forever. He’s your father,” he said, leaning in close so his lips brushed your ear. “But he isn’t your daddy, is he?”

Your eyes slowly opened at his words.

“You want me to be your daddy?”

You nearly stumbled back, your eyes wide as you looked at him. There was no playfulness in his gaze. Nothing to give away that it was a joke. You heard him wrong or imagined that because there was no way he would ask you that. Maybe those couple of shots got to you quicker than you thought.

“What did you say?” you asked.

“You heard what I said,” he said evenly.

You laughed as you backed away more. It had to be a joke and you weren’t in the mood for games. So why wasn’t he laughing with you?

“Whatever that was, I-I can’t process this right now. I need air. I need to go home.”

“You’ve been drinking,” Bucky pointed out as you began to walk to the side door. “I can take you. Let me take care of you.

“You’ve been drinking, too,” you said over your shoulder. “I’ll call a cab.”

“Wait!”

You pushed the door open and welcomed the cool air as you walked down the alley. It didn’t bother you since the alcohol warmed you a bit. It was dark, except for the glow of the neon lights. The perfect cover to hide your oncoming tears.

You turned around when you heard footsteps behind you, but didn’t speak when you saw Bucky a few feet away. What would you say to him? It was difficult to think with him watching you, the air thick with tension. The longer his gaze lingered on you, the harder it was to breathe. If he noticed your hand shaking when you wiped at your eyes, he didn't point it out.

Such a gentleman.

"You're not going home until you talk to me," he said, taking another step toward you.

"You can't keep me out here all night. There. I spoke to you."

"That isn't what I meant and you know it. You're pissed about everything, I get it, but don't act like I'm the bad guy here."

"You're not the good guy either," you snapped, pointing back at the bar. “What the hell was that in there? Asking to be my daddy?”

“You know how relieved Dave was that I didn’t beat the shit out of him over Beth? Or that I didn’t push him away as a friend? You know why I didn’t?” he asked, avoiding your question. “Because I’d be a fucking hypocrite.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’ve wanted you since I walked into your dorm room your freshman year.”

The air rushed out of your lungs. A man who is practically sex on legs wanted you. Someone off limits and you could never have.

“Beth never wanted a stepmom and the women I dated didn’t want a bratty daughter. I almost gave up on dating and then I saw you. You were right in front of me and I couldn’t have you because you were half my age and living with my daughter,” he explained.

You thought back over the years, searching for signs in the memories that he wanted you. The late, quiet nights together. His interests in your studies. How he used to joke with your dad that the reason you didn’t date much was because the boys weren’t good enough for you.

“Been almost five years and I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve tried to be good. What’s stopping us now?”

“I. That’s not. We.” Why couldn’t you form a coherent sentence? “You’re a good man and a good looking man, but you’re Beth’s dad.”

Bucky’s bitter laugh chilled you more than the cool air.

“So, you’re going to pretend that you don’t want me? That you haven’t wanted me all these years and I’ve just imagined the looks and want between us?” he demanded, every bit the confident man you grew used to seeing. “Say you don’t want me and we’ll forget this whole thing.”

You couldn’t say that.

“Say I do want you,” you said carefully. “We just can’t.”

You backed up when he strode forward and wrapped his hand around your wrist. The touch was gentler than you expected as he turned and backed you against the wall, your bag unceremoniously falling to the ground. You were forced to look at him when he gripped your chin, pressing his body closer to yours. His eyes flickered between your gaze and trembling mouth and you wondered if he heard how fast your heart pounded.

Were his eyes always such a dark shade of blue or did you ignore the lust hidden beneath the surface?

"Why can’t we, hmm?" he asked, firmly keeping your head in place when you tried to avert your gaze. "Is it because you’re scared? You don’t have to be.”

You were scared as hell. Bucky is a man. Experienced.

"Aren't you tired of being good? I know I am."

You thought back to Beth’s previous words. How she had the balls to go after what she wanted and you needed to do the same. What better time to start than now?

You pressed your lips against his and it didn’t take him long for his tongue to slip in, tasting the whiskey as he devoured you. He moaned when your hands moved down his torso, allowing you to divulge in the thing you both denied yourselves. Some twisted part of you mourned what you could’ve had for months had you simply stopped being a good girl.

Were you truly good to begin with?

The line of his hard cock pressed against you as he rocked his hips and kissed down your neck. “This isn’t how I pictured it, but I can’t fucking wait.”

“How did you picture it?” you whimpered, rolling your hips back against his.

“I’d rather show you later,” he whispered, lightly biting down. It wasn’t hard enough to break the skin, but enough that pain and pleasure lingered. “You have no idea what I’m going to do to you.”

He moved away enough to push your dress up around your hips, shocking you when he tore your panties off. Tucking the ruined fabric into his pants pocket, he slipped his hand back between your thighs. His fingers were cool against your slick folds and you shamelessly writhed, needing everything he was willing to give you.

“Did you touch yourself at night wishing I’d show up and fuck your pretty pussy until you cried for me? Hmm?” He said, kissing you again as you whined. The light scratch of his beard made you shiver as he nipped your bottom lip. “Tell me you want my cock.”

Your head spun at his demand. You weren’t a virgin, but the guys you had been with before weren’t big on dirty talk. Unless they talked about how amazing their cocks were.

They weren’t.

“I want your cock,” you whined against his lips, desperate for him.

You wanted him to fill you up until you were sore, aching, and forgot why you were so upset in the first place.

“I’ll give it to you,” he promised.

Your fingers twisted in his shirt when he slid his fingers into your wet slit. You couldn’t recall a time in your life you felt this hot and slick. And feeling one finger push inside, you were sure this was nothing more than an erotic, dirty dream.

“Fuck, you’re tight. And you’re gonna let me fuck you against this wall, aren’t you?” he asked as you nodded. “Dirty girl. My dirty girl now.”

His finger twisted as he added another and you nearly smacked your head against the wall, but his other hand came up to soften the blow. “Bucky,” you gasped.

“I don’t know if you really want my cock,” he teased, moving his long fingers deep. “Might need to hear it one more time.”

As if you weren’t practically riding the thick digits at this point and moaning in the dark alleyway, he really needed to hear you say it again? The squelching sound of your pussy wasn’t loud enough? But your body liked his teasing. Loved his demands.

“Please, I need your cock. Please, Bucky. Please.” you begged, almost sobbing when he took his fingers out.

“But you said we can't do this. Isn't that what you said?” he asked.

When you opened your mouth to answer, he pushed his wet fingers inside.

“Taste yourself and try to say you don't want me. I dare you,” he whispered, wiping some of the bittersweet juices on your tongue. His fingers slipped free as you gaped at him, watching as he licked the remainder with a groan. “Even sweeter than I imagined.”

The sound of him unbuckling his belt snapped you out of your stupor. “Bucky, I’m-”

“On the pill and clean. I know,” he cut you off as he took his cock out and stroked himself. “I need to fill you up, pretty girl. Need to make you mine, the way I should’ve a long time ago.”

You struggled to keep yourself upright as he guided himself between your legs, holding your hip steady when he pushed the head in. You weren’t nearly stretched enough to take him, but your greedy pussy didn’t care as he slipped in inch by inch. You moaned as he kept pushing until he was fully sheathed inside you. You had never felt so full and likely never would again.

“Fuck,” he groaned, pressing his forehead against yours as your walls pulsed around him.

In the dark place in the back of your mind you kept locked away, you wondered how he looked and sounded when he was pleased. If he gasped when he came or if his eyes rolled back. You were going to find out though, weren’t you?

You cried out when he thrust, one hand moving up to grip his hair. The quick, hard motions felt as desperate as you did inside. You didn’t care if it was fast or dirty. You were tired of being clean. This wasn’t tender or making love. It wasn’t soft touches and kisses to your breasts or slowly building you up.

It was Bucky Barnes fucking you against an alley wall.

“Fuck, are you always this wet or is it just for me?” he asked in awe, pulling one of your legs around his hip to shove his cock in deeper. “Do I have to chase anyone else off?”

You didn’t hear the words as you cried out. It felt so good to be taken like this. The rage, hurt, confusion, all of it molded into ecstasy. You never wanted it to end.

A light smack to your thigh pulled you back to the present.

“Tell. Me. You’re. Mine.” The gravel in his voice grew with each punctuated thrust.

“I’m yours,” you moaned, helpless to the onslaught and uncaring of the implication in the moment.

Your response encouraged him to move faster, kissing you deeply with a groan. His thrusts became almost punishing, like he had to feel you let go so he could come. It wouldn’t take much more with your orgasm building the way it was. You’d be surprised if his cock wasn’t coated in your wetness once you came.

“I-I’m gonna…” you trailed off.

“I know, pretty girl,” he grunted, gripping your chin again. “Be good and come for Daddy.”

Your body seized up before you exploded with pleasure. You struggled to hold yourself up as you trembled with bliss, your vision going white from the intensity. It was so much at once and you thought you might sob from how good it felt.

“Good girl. My good fucking girl,” he encouraged as he fucked you through it, the obscene sounds drowning out your whimpers. He tipped over the edge after a few more thrusts, coating your wet walls. “Fuck, take it.”

He managed to hold you up as he finished, panting as his head fell back. Your grip on his jacket loosened as the reality of the situation sank in, like a bucket of cold water being washed over you. Why did pleasure have to be short lived?

You fucked Bucky. You let Bucky fuck you. How could you cross that line? Just because Beth and your dad had done so, why did you think you could?

God, what were you going to tell them? That you were the biggest hypocrite alive? That you were no better than they were?

What goes around, comes around.

“Hey,” he whispered when he lifted his head, both of you still breathing heavily. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

“It’s not okay,” you whispered as he pulled out of you, your mixed release dripping down your thighs. You covered your face as he fixed your dress and himself. “Oh, my god.”

You flinched and dropped your hands when he pulled you away from the wall. His expression was unreadable as he shrugged his jacket off and slipped it over your shoulders. “It’s okay,” he said again.

“W-We can’t do that again,” you whispered as he bent down to retrieve your bag.

"Why not?" he asked, picking up some of the contents that fell out before he stood up.

"Because we can't," you said with no strength behind your words.

“We’re doing this again. You can’t avoid me or this,” he said, pointing between the two of you.

“Your daughter is marrying my dad. This whole thing is fucked up and-”

“And I said I'm tired of being good. I’m fucking tired of denying myself the chance to be happy,” he said firmly as he got in your face. “So are you. I know it."

You pulled the jacket tighter around you, not backing away as he stared at you. Did you shake from the sudden cold, your orgasm, or from the thought that he wasn’t about to let you go?

His gaze softened before he kissed your forehead. “Let’s get a cab and I’ll take you home. We can talk about it once you’ve rested.”

You let him take your hand, your feet moving on their own accord to follow him to the end of the alley. “I can get home on my own.”

You needed to be alone so you could figure out what to do about everything.

“You said you’re mine, didn’t you?” he said, smiling when you stopped. “And what kind of Daddy would I be if I didn’t take care of you?”

Would love to explore more of this new pairing. 😏 Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #dbf!bucky barnes x reader #bfd!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #dbf!bucky barnes #bfd!bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you

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em1e · 1 year

Text

⠀ ⠀わかさ // BABY SITTER'S CLUB ⠀ ༝ ༝ wakasa imaushi [ft. cousin!sano's/black dragons] ⠀ ༝ ༝ 4.2k words ⠀ ༝ ༝ some drinking ! ⠀ — shinichiro asks if you can babysit your younger cousin's for the night, and you get to have a late night convo with his pretty friend after.

you think you might’ve been doomed from the start.

shinichiro didn’t specify what you’d need to babysit your younger cousins for, just that he was desperate because his grandpa was out of town and none of his friends could be trusted to actually watch them. you could almost hear him falling to his knees to beg over the phone.

you like to think you’re a nice person. generous and caring, and you haven’t seen mikey or emma in a while anyways, so there was no real harm in saying yes. taking every penny from his wallet was a plus, too.

you get to their house right when he tells you, almost tackled by emma who is saying something about having a sleepover in the living room with a pillowfort in the mix the second you’ve finished slipping off your shoes, and you catch a glance of mikey pouting to his older brother while emma drags you further into the house.

“(y/n)’s gonna take good care of you guys, don’t sweat it.” shinichiro pats mikey’s head with a hum, then turns to you, “left some money on the counter for pizza or something if you want, but there’s food in the fridge too if you wanna cook. ‘m gonna be in my room for a bit before i have to leave, but i’ll prob’ly be home way after you guys are asleep.”

you offer a nod, setting your overnight bag in a corner of the living room, “s’okay, i’ll probably need a ride home tomorrow though, if that’s alright.”

“not a problem - thanks for coming, i really appreciate it-”

he’s interrupted by the front door swinging open, a man with a long scar going over one of his eyes coming in like he owns the place, with two kids running past his legs to greet your younger cousins. he drops their bags by yours, stretching and popping his back as if carrying them was the worst thing in the world before his eyes find your own wide ones, unlit cigarette between his teeth while he takes you in.

“you’re the babysitter, right? sanzu, senju, come introduce yourselves. ‘m takeomi.” he offers his hand, and he must be confused by your bewildered stare, because he takes his hand back and looks to your older cousin, “they okay shin?”

you whirl around to glare at him, completely appalled by his apologetic stare. “surprise?”

“you did not tell me i’d be watching four kids!”

shinichiro is quick for damage control, gesturing towards takeomi, “he’s gonna pay what i am, promise!”

takeomi looks surprised at this news, opening his mouth to argue, but deciding against it from the look shinichiro gives. he fishes out his wallet, counting out some money and offering it to you. you eye it, then him, then shinichiro. your cousin clears his throat, jutting his thumbs upwards as a sign for more. takeomi sputters, pulling out all the cash he has and placing it in your open hand.

“i am not a daycare.” your eyes narrow between them, pointed look enough to have shinichiro humming nervously. you shove the cash in your wallet, finally acknowledging the two new additions to your entourage.

“i’m senju! this is my brother sanzu.” the girl says, hands on her brother's shoulders as she pushes him forward.

“i’m (y/n).” you smile, and sanzu looks away from you before escaping his sister’s hold and scurrying back to mikey.

shinichiro and takeomi whisper between themselves while you and emma start gathering blankets from around the house, before shinichiro calls out, “okay, we’ll be out here for a bit! you’ll probably hear us leaving soon!”

“see ya.” you call back, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you help senju put blankets on to chairs and set pillows over them to keep them in place. the door shuts, and you’re left alone with no one over the age of 10.

⠀ ⠀ ༝⠀ ⠀ ༝

shinichiro honestly expected you to come barrelling into his room far sooner than you did.

takeomi sat to his right on the couch, benkei to his left, and wakasa sat on the table in front of them. your soft knock was barely audible, but it made shinichiro pause in his talk about black dragon, turning to face it when you open it slowly and peek into the room.

“what’s up?” he asks, standing when you make your way further in.

“i just wanted to make sure sanzu and senju weren’t allergic to anything.” you look past him, to takeomi, who takes a long drag of his cigarette before shaking his head.

“not that i know of.”

“emma and mikey?” you’re looking at him now, head tilted slightly.

“nothin’.” he confirms, “you gonna make somethin’?”

“mhm.” you scan the room, eyes glossing over each of his friends, before they settle on one person for a second, then you’re turning on your heel to go back to the kids, “i’ll put some leftovers in the fridge if you want.”

he snickers, despite having no idea what could’ve had you leaving so quickly, “sounds good, thank you!”

the click of the door fills the air as you leave, and silence washes over the group before wakasa sighs.

“okay, i’ll bite. who was that.”

shinichiro turns slowly, acknowledging his friend for a second, and takeomi answers before he has a chance to open his mouth, “(y/n). babysitter of the night and thief of all the cash in my wallet.”

“they stole from you?” benkei laughs, the idea almost comedic.

“not directly,” takeomi’s eyes narrow to shinichiro, “but they are definitely making a pretty penny tonight.”

“and dealing with your monsters of siblings,” wakasa sighs out a puff of smoke, “it’s easy money well-earned.”

“think i could pay enough for ‘em to babysit me-”

takeomi gets hit in the back of the head by a shoe, jolting forward while shinichiro gathers the matching pair to slide onto his foot. “that’s enough of that, you guys ready to go or you wanna fantasize ‘bout my cousin all night?”

“cousin?” takeomi scoffs, throwing the shoe back to him. he slides it on then goes for his bike keys, “thought the attractive gene skipped over your generation.”

“more like skipped over you. we leavin’ or what?”

⠀ ⠀ ༝⠀ ⠀ ༝

you heard their bikes take off about two hours ago, finished feeding the kids right after that, and got everyone changed into their pjs in record time. babysitters around the world wish they had your skillset. it takes a bit to get them to quiet down into the fort you’ve created, but with the promise of tv and a snack before bed, they’re hooked.

it’s a surprise when the guys stumble in through the front door with the smell of alcohol following them, benkei supporting most of shinichiro’s weight with a nasty bruise on his cheek. wakasa follows behind the two of them, remnants of a bloody nose still flaked lightly under his nostril, and . . . you look between the three, making sure your headcount is accurate.

“aren’t you guys missing one?”

the men look between each other, then out the door as if he was waiting outside, then back to each other.

“oh.”

“oh?” you parrot, “the hell happened to you guys?”

“oniichan’s face is messed up.” one by one, the kids pop out from the blankets to see their siblings and friends alike. emma pouts, tugging on your arm, “he promised no more fighting (y/n), can you believe it.”

mikey almost laughs at his brother, “like he ever could, you know how he likes to pick fights.”

“where’s ‘omi?” senju rubs her eyes as a yawn slips past her lips, and sanzu nudges her shoulder.

“maybe he got arrested.”

she stiffens at the thought, suddenly very awake and pulling on your other arm, “he isn’t really is he? he’s just sayin’ that?”

your eyes narrow at the three men for riling up the kids right when you were getting them ready to sleep.

“out.” you point towards the garage door, gently pulling your arms from emma and senju and shoving wakasa by the shoulders when no one moves.

“what’d i do?” he whines out, eyes not leaving you as you grab benkei by the wrist and drag him in the same direction.

“‘s my house.” shinichiro grumbles, being pulled along by his friend.

you open the door for them and push them one by one into shinichiro’s room, ignoring the complaints from each of them while benkei gives an apologetic smile. he closes the door for you, and you’re left consoling senju while trying to get everyone back into the fort as if it will help get them to sleep faster.

and it almost works, shrek playing on the tv with sanzu’s head resting on your shoulder.

the door swings open, and each of you startle at the sudden sound, takeomi’s voice loud while he complains about being left by his dearest friends. you climb out of the fort to glare at him, and senju lets out a small omi! before you’re grabbing him by the ear and dragging him to the garage door. you push it open and all but shove him into the room, completely ignoring the whines he gives about his poor tortured ear.

“stay.” you threaten, glaring at each of them like they’re dogs who just won’t listen, and not one of them can find it in themselves to argue from the way you’re looking at them.

“‘s my house.” shinichiro grumbles again, once the door is shut and his safety is secured as you retreat.

an hour passes and takeomi sips idly on a lukewarm beer shinichiro keeps in his room, pout still very evident, while wakasa lights a cigarette. benkei breaks any leftover silence with a grumbling stomach.

“‘m kinda hungry. we never stopped at the store like we said we would.” he scratches his cheek, looking to his friends in hopes of a solution.

“(y/n) did say they made somethin’ for dinner, didn’t they?” takeomi sits up slightly from his slouched position, thinking dreamily about what you could’ve made.

“you wanna risk goin’ into the house?” wakasa takes a drag from his cigarette.

“it’s my house.” shinichiro stands, repeating that phrase for the third time in one hour. it’s almost like he’s trying to convince himself it’s okay.

it’s decided then shinichiro would go in, grab something quick, and be back in his room before you notice he’s even there. hoping time would be on his side, since it is very late, maybe you’ll be sound asleep and he won’t really need to be as sneaky as he’s planning. the plan falls apart very quickly at the seams, realizing the door that connects his room inside the house is locked from the otherside. he silently curses you, trying to turn the lock one more time in case his first attempt just wasn’t right, then sighs.

“gotta go through the front door.”

his friends watch with amused grins, wondering if maybe you’ve completely cut all contact with them until the morning, as shinichiro goes out the side door that leads to the front porch. he thanks whatever god is out there that the door is unlocked, opening so, so slowly to ensure it doesn’t make a creak, and slides into the room as quietly as possible.

quiet, until he knocks into the umbrella holder right beside the door. it falls with a clatter, and he can see you sit up slightly from your spot on the couch, hissing out a ‘shh’ while sanzu in your lap makes a noise of complaint in his sleep. he places it back as it was with a wince.

“the hell are you doin’?” you whisper scream, barely able to turn your body in fear of waking up the boy you’ve had to constantly pat to keep asleep.

“we just-”

“no. no ‘we’. if you wake up these kids, i swear-”

“okay! okay, okay, okay, you win.” he grumbles something under his breath that has your eyes narrowing at him in the dark, and he inhales sharply before going back to his friends.

attempt one : failed.

shinichiro arrives back to the gang empty handed and dejected at losing so easily.

and his friends have the audacity to laugh at him.

“an umbrella holder? shouldn’t you know that house like the back of your hand?” wakasa almost snorts, holding his stomach at the fact that something so small did him in.

“i do!” he assures, “one of the kids must’ve moved it closer to the door or something.” he explains in vain, “and i don’t see any of you guys stepping up to try.”

takeomi claps a hand on benkei’s shoulder, shaking him slightly after, “benkei’s my vote, he’s the one that brought up food in the first place.”

“i didn’t know we’d have to become ninjas to eat.” he argues, “besides, i’m the biggest here, what makes you think i’ll do any better?”

he makes a good case, but the idea of you whisper-yelling at someone twice your size almost makes shinichiro laugh. “i agree with takeomi, i think you should try.”

“i can’t believe you guys are plotting against me.” he looks to wakasa, who just shrugs and offers no help. so, with a sigh, he stands, taking the beer takeomi had been nursing, and chugs what’s left while ignoring the complaints that follow.

he goes out the same way shinichiro did, opens the door as quietly as he can, and . . . bumps into the same. fucking. umbrella holder. with the warning in mind. you whip around to glare, curses on your tongue as you take in benkei, who looks so sorry, it has the words dying on your lips. the two of you stare at each other for all of five seconds, before he’s wordlessly picking the holder back up, placing it where it was, and closing the door behind him.

attempt two : failed.

benkei returns to the group just as empty handed as his captain, just as dejected.

“couldn’t even get through the door.” he sighs, waving off the laughter that follows.

“they say anything to you?” wakasa snickers, offering benkei another beer. he takes it gratefully, chugging it easily and shaking his head.

“i kicked the umbrella holder,” louder laughter surrounds him, “didn’t even say anything. we just stared at each other and i left.”

“we’re never gonna eat at this rate.” shinichiro groans, “why is this so hard?”

“they aren’t even that scary,” takeomi hums, ear incident long forgotten, while putting out the remainder of his cigarette before standing, “i’ll show you guys how it’s done.”

takeomi is so self-assured, so confident that it doesn’t matter if he fucks up. he’s a smooth-talker, through and through. surely, if you get upset, he can just talk it out. that’s what these idiots don’t understand.

with that in mind, he takes the same route as the others. he decides, maybe their flaw is in opening the door so slowly. that must be why they keep kicking the umbrella holder. they let it sneak up on them, too worried about the wrong thing to even notice it. he pushes the door open with no regard to how loud he is, taking a step past the frame and cursing when he kicks the one thing he was meant to avoid.

it clatters across the floor, and he hears a groan from sanzu, both from the sound and from you shifting to face him.

“d-didn’t mean to-” he stutters out, and your glare hardens when he makes no attempt to keep his voice down.

“so help me god, if you do not go back to the garage right now you are going to wish you never met me.”

he audibly gulps, bowing his head while apologies fall off his lips. you throw a pillow in his direction, and he takes that as a sign to bounce, not bothering to pick up the umbrella holder like the past two attemptees.

attempt three : failed.

takeomi comes back, head still high with nothing in his hands, and the laughter that erupts is infectious.

“they threatened me! me!!” he explains desperately, “and it worked!”

shinichiro really thinks they should’ve just gone to a twenty-four hour store at this point, but each attempt seems to be funnier than the last. he turns to wakasa, who sips on a beer from the couch. he catches his eye, and shakes his head.

“nuh uh, no way am i going in there after all of that.”

“you’re the only one that hasn’t!” shinichiro argues, “and technically, you’re the one least likely to get caught! being the smallest and all . . . “ his voice trails off, and the comment has wakasa’s eyes narrowing to slits.

“i’m not even that hungry, it’s you guys who are so desperate.”

“it’s only fair you try, too.” benkei grumbles, still not over the look you gave him when he first walked in.

four of the toughest delinquents in tokyo, arguing about fairness. out of fear for their leader's younger cousin, no less. it’s laughable. wakasa grumbles profanities under his breath, almost certain this will end with you leaving shinichiro’s house with an attempted murder charge.

“fine, but if i come outta there alive, you guys owe me.”

“not if you come back empty handed.” takeomi opens another beer, plopping his ass back down on the couch, “careful, they have sanzu in their lap. that kid’ll be the reason they snap.”

wakasa takes the warning with a grain of salt, sure that the four of them bothering you is the real reason for your aggravation. with a sigh, he’s left walking to the front door and opening it quietly. you’re already glaring holes where he stands and he hasn’t even had a chance to do anything wrong.

“what could you guys possibly want so badly?” you ask through clenched teeth, and wakasa’s hands come up defensively, closing the door behind him and very aware of the umbrella holder takeomi left in the middle of the floor.

“we’re just hungry.” he assures, stepping past the couch towards the kitchen, “be in and out before you can notice.”

he stumbles slightly in his drunken state, and it has you heaving a sigh and slowly peeling yourself from under sanzu. you carefully place a blanket over him, and follow wakasa to the kitchen, finger pressed to your lips to make sure he knows to keep quiet.

wakasa is already shuffling through the fridge, hoping to find something quick and easy so he isn’t in your hair for any longer than he needs to be, but you’re pulling him back gently by his upper arm and grabbing something in a tupperware container.

“i made rice with some vegetables and beef i found in the freezer,” you say softly, and wakasa wonders for a second if you’re always soft spoken or if it’s because you’re trying your best to be quiet.

you pop the lid off and move to reheat what you made, leaning against the counter as the microwave counts down.

“what’d you guys do for you to earn that?” you nod towards him, and despite not directly saying what, wakasa knows you’re talking about his previously bloodied nose.

absentmindedly, he taps at his nostril, honestly having forgotten to even clean what blood was there. “fight.” he says dumbly, and the simplicity of it has you giggling. he thinks he really likes that sound.

he watches intently when you grab a paper towel, dampening it with the sink water, then so very gently cup his cheek to tap at the blood to clean it. if he had any shame, he knows his face would be flushed right now. instead, he grins, eyes half-lidded while he absorbs your focused expression.

“you’re awfully sweet on me, huh?” the comment has your own cheeks dusting pink, but your reply comes by you squeezing his cheek tighter.

“quit movin’, makin’ this harder than it needs to be.”

by the time you’re finished, the microwave is seconds away from going off, and you drop both the paper towel and his face in favor of making sure the timer doesn’t have a chance to sound, stopping it right at :01. wakasa finds himself missing your touch, but the thought is lost when the smell of food hits. maybe he was hungrier than he thought.

he grabs a plate for himself, piling a portion onto it and groaning when it hits his tongue.

“you made this?” he finds himself asking, despite you literally explaining the fact that you did not even five minutes ago. you hum out a reply, already in the process of getting other plates and utensils for his friends.

“‘s very good.” he grins when he’s finished, “thanks for takin’ care of me.” he eyes you lazily, grin growing bigger when he sees that the pink dusting your cheeks spreads.

“don’t mention it,” you mumble, pushing the plates and now warm food to him, “should probably take these to them before they starve.”

“let ‘em.” he says with such confidence, it has a giggle passing your lips. he wants to hear that more. he pulls himself onto the counter with such ease, it makes you wonder how drunk he really is.

“so who’d you guys fight?” you lean against the counter beside him, tapping at his knee as if his undivided attention wasn’t already fully on you.

“some idiots,” he waves dismissively, “heard from people at the bar we're inna gang and started shit talking shinichiro.”

you grin, “he take the first swing?”

he mirrors your smile, and fuck does he look pretty when he does, “damn right. got socked right after,” he taps his cheek, “everyone was fightin’ after that. benkei had to drag us out ‘fore the cops came.”

“who hit you?” you muse, head tilting slightly.

“some random that followed us outta the bar.” his grin only widens at the memory, “shoulda seen the other guy.”

“i can only imagine.” you push yourself from the counter when a head of pink hair peeks around the corner, eyes widening slightly when they meet yours before he scurries back to the living room.

wakasa’s eyes follow your movements when you leave him alone in the kitchen, in favor of going back to sanzu who can’t seem to stay asleep without your comforting touch. in his inebriated state, he finds himself following behind you. in the time it took him to make that decision, you’ve already gotten comfortable on the couch with sanzu’s head in your lap. you rub his back idly, and he catches the faintest whisper of you asking if he had another bad dream, sees the way sanzu’s head barely moves with a nod.

it’s really domestic, seeing how well you’re taking care of a kid you didn’t even know about hours before, and wakasa finds himself almost jealous of the 9 year old. what a cockblock, coming in when he was reeling you into the conversation.

instead of voicing these concerns, he finds himself clambering on the other end of the couch, feet tucked neatly under him and looking at you.

“hi,” you whisper with a small laugh, “don’t you have a delivery to make?”

he waves off the suggestion with a hum, “they shoulda came on their own - kept tellin’ horror stories ‘bout you being mean, but i think they’re just scaredy cats.”

“that so?” you muse, and sanzu shifts closer to you when wakasa leans over him to get a better look at your smile.

“mhm,” half-lidded eyes scan over you, and he can honestly forget about the boy between the two of you easily with the way you’re looking back at him, “think maybe they can’t handle you like i can.”

you offer another giggle, putting a finger against his forehead when he invades too much of sanzu’s space, “i think you should tell me this sober.”

“i’d tell you it everyday if i could.” he whispers so seriously, it has your face flushing.

“try again tomorrow.” you tap his forehead twice for emphasis, then pass a blanket his way since it’s very apparent he won’t be going back to his friends.

his friends, who are mourning the loss of him the longer he takes to come back.

shinichiro, after his dear friend wakasa hadn’t shown up in the five minutes they’d timed him for, delved into horror stories from when you were younger. how you’d been suspended from school due to your temper, picking more fights than him when someone said the wrong thing. how he’d spend some weekend nights helping you tend to bruised knuckles after you’d defended him.

and it ends with each man giving a soft prayer for their friend, who, after an hour, still hadn’t come back yet.

unbeknownst to them, wakasa had fallen asleep listening to you tell stories about your cousin. how you’d protected him in grade school because kids were assholes, but you were a bigger asshole who didn’t take that shit. and on the couch, the three of you fell asleep peacefully, while the men in garage hoped you gave wakasa a quick and painless death.

#salmon rowe #wakasa imaushi x reader #imaushi wakasa x reader #imaushi x reader #wakasa x reader #wakasa imaushi #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #x reader

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ryoalouette · 5 months

Text

Machi's #15 DPxDC Idea

Bruce couldn't understand what was happening, or why, or how, or why, or when, or well, anything at all. One day he found two civilians, two teens goofing around the cave like two newlyweds. When Batman, with capital B; tried to interrogate them he only got mockery.

"What's with the long face?" They said before disappearing through one of the smaller caves. For a moment Bruce thought he had hallucinated the Asian boy and the Hispanic girl. Only to find the same Hispanic girl with a blond boy making out on Red Robin's bike. Plus another couple with them! And all of them were holding hands!

Then, a few days later, while he was investigating the lower levels of the batcave he found a black boy with a red beanie flirting with Jason, and Jason was flirting back? Batman had to pull everybody out of the caves and call for an emergency meeting. Only to find a boy with black hair passed out at the meeting table, using Batman's reports as cushions. Sitting next to him was a girl with also dark hair drinking with a straw from a coconut.

"Poor Danny," she said. "After all these years he still can't deal with alcohol." And then she promptly started to offer coconut milk to everyone.

He snapped at her but she only raised an eyebrow and left carrying the boy, Danny, on her back. And then the music started. Day and Night it would start playing at the most random moments. Samba, Rumba, Fados, Boleros, K-pop, anything went in, they even accepted petitions if the kids yelled loud enough. Steph had gotten in the habit of asking for Kill Bill's OST and Dick constantly asked for Taylor Swift. They even answered when Damian complained about their choices and asked for Chopin's nocturne. And then the batcave started to grow flowers! And trees? And the fruit was edible? What the heck?

"Sounds to me like you have a nymph infestation," said Wonder Woman after hearing his rant report. Batman stared at her like she had grown another head.

"I mean, flower powers, free love, did they have pointed ears?" Batman nood. "Yup, definitely a nymph infestation." Batman kept staring at her. Don't look at me like that, they are very common where I come from. The only solution is to wait until they get bored and move on. If you try to get rid of them violently not only you will fail. But also will risk the wrath of the gods." Batman kept staring. Wonder woman sighed. "I will call Pan to see if he is missing any nymphs and wants them back".

#machi's idea #dpxdc #dp x DC #batman #danny Phantom #prompts #Fae Danny #Fae Amity Park #Free love Amity Park #Everybody is into everybody #Sam has plant powers #So they always have food #They keep moving so they don't extenuate the soil and to let it rest #it is called letting a field lie fallow #so the soil can restore their natural nutrient balance #wonder if Luisa in Encanto does the same #bc her powers are useless without soil to grow #not to mention Poison Ivy #to make such a huge plants the soil must suffer a lot #Responsible agriculture #This tags got out of control pretty quickly #summary #Amity Park is weird #there is a massive polycule and they travel the world partying and exploring #and sometimes they do chores for CW #like finding the pools of rancid ectoplasm and cleaning them #wait until they make it to Nanda Parbat #Ras Al Ghoul will have an aneurysm #Dani will have Thalia

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literallydontknowdontcare · 5 months

Note

I’m literally BEGGING a Vanessa x fem!reader where Vanessa gets jelly and it ends up in rough/angry sex

You DO Own Me

Vanessa Shelly/Afton x Fem Reader

PLUS this request: “Can we get Vanessa fucking y/n roughly? Like pulling hair, biting neck and scratching back type of rough?”

a/n: yessir 😜 merged this request with another anon as they coincide… sorry for the delay in fics. I am still sick but that not my excuse: my excuse is I'm lazy lol. This may be shit, sorry ;')

Content/Warnings: Top/Rough Vanessa, Bottom sub reader, smut, choking, strap use [r receiving], rough sex, not proofread/edited, Vanessas kind of an asshole but that's hot

w/c: 2024

The ride home was silent. Well, not completely. Though Vanessa was extremely unimpressed, her lips pressed together and her hands gripping the steering wheel so tight her knuckles turned white, you were having the time of your life. Under the influence of alcohol, you were giddy and chatty, oblivious to your girlfriend's simmering anger beside you.

“And I literally told Mike that he was insane for thinking those robots cut him in his sleep, but of COURSE he decided to ignore me and continued to take those pills. I mean, really? The poor man is half asleep most of the time!”, you huff, recalling your last shift. “What do you think?”, you turn to Vanessa, your half dazed, half-blushed face informing her that you really did have no idea that she was mad.

“Mm”, she replied, uninterested. You, again, didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. “I know! Maybe I should replace them with some melatonin gummies.. He probably wouldn’t notice”, you giggle, rolling down the front window to breathe. Fanning yourself, the alcohol making you overheated, you gaze at the stars outside in awe. The outdoors really does hit differently when you’re drunk. Unbeknownst to you, Vanessa was seconds from snapping. Pulling into the driveway of your shared home and parking her personal vehicle beside her cop car, she immediately stepped outside as soon as the gas turned off and slammed the door shut, ignoring your own door and walking to the front of the house. You frown, beginning to zone back in.

“Maybe she just forgot”, you think, in reference to her not racing to open your door or offering to carry you inside as she usually would. Stumbling out of the car, you follow behind her into the house. “Vanessa?”, you ask aloud, wondering where she disappeared to in the span of two seconds. Pausing, you try to listen for any footsteps around the house for any indication of her location. Nothing. “Vanessa? Baby?”, you repeat, concerned now. Half limping, you shrug off your jacket and kick off your heels, wandering around the house. Finally, in the corner of your eye, you see the upstairs office light getting turned on.

Sprinting up the stairs, going as fast as your tipsy body would allow you to, you head for the office. Before you could open the door you heard a mumbling sound. Cracking the door open, you witness your girlfriend pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance, talking to someone on the phone.

“Yes, yes. I understand. I just thought- no thank you. I’ll be alright. Sorry for the misunderstanding”, Vanessa answered someone on the line, grinding her teeth when she saw you enter. “Thank you. Have a good one”, she hung up the phone, turning away from you and leaning against the desk.

“Vanessa? What’s wrong?”, you whisper. She snorted.

“What? Now you notice?”, she spits, still not turning around.

You bit your lip, anxious at her reply. “What was the phone call about?”

“Work. Nothing for you to worry about”, she then laughs. “Not that you were, to begin with”. She leans over the desk, reaching for a pen and paper to jot something down, and you try to not let your mind race with thoughts of her rolling her hips forward as you can tell she needs comfort right now, not a horny girlfriend.

You walk towards her nervously. “Are you okay baby? You were fine in the car-”

She snaps at you. “No. I wasn’t. If you weren’t so lightweight you would know that”. Stillness filled the air, the only noise coming from the scribbles of the pen as Vanessa jotted down the information from the phone call.

Coming up behind her, you gently place your hand on the back of her arm. “Is this- is this about Mike?”, you watch her jaw clench from the side. Blinking in surprise, you reiterate. “It is? Isn’t it?”

“Drop it”, Vanessa scowls, shoving herself off the table. Your foggy brain couldn’t help but think ‘muscle memory’ with the way she practically ground against it in annoyance.

“Are you serious? He’s a respectful guy! His old crush means nothing”, you protest.

“Nothing? You make me sick”

“What do you want from me? For me to spit on him and never talk to him again?”, you snap, frustrated now.

She crosses her arms. “Preferably”, she snickers. She comes closer to you. “Or maybe you like the attention? Hm?”

You pull away, hurt. You’d like to believe she was drunk saying this, but she was completely sober. “Vanessa-”

“Poor you, huh? Do I not give you enough attention? Is my poor baby always so needy”, she mocked, snarling.

You blink away tears and begin to walk out of the office when you feel a gust of wind and a sudden thud against your back. Gasping, you slam into the wall, your head narrowly missing the collision. Before you could turn around, you felt Vanessa pin your hands behind your back, her cuffs clenching around your wrists and shutting with a loud ‘click’.

“What the fuck Van-FUCK”, your sentence gets cut off as you hear a loud smack; Vanessa had just hit your ass. You feel numb for a few seconds, and then everything after that. You whine out, trying to cover yourself as she grabs your cuffed wrists and pins them above your head, her other hand coming around your waist to arch your back towards her. “Always whining. Never taking what I give you”. She slaps you again, the force of her hand biting your skin, surely leaving red marks that would turn purple tomorrow. You bite your lip, pain, and pleasure fighting to take over your emotions. You settle on both and she digs into your scalp, raising you up to her. You whimper out as she turns your head to the side and begins to suck at the front of your neck. Your life flashes before your eyes; having to walk in tomorrow at Freddy’s, a hickey so prominent that any efforts to hide it with makeup make it look evening trashier, and Mike seeing exactly what she did to you. You never understood her anger when it came to Mike; she liked him well enough. You just were never allowed to talk to him, apparently.

“Vanessa, please”, you whisper as she bites the side of your neck, pain seeping in. Squirming, she finally releases you. You flop against the wall, breathing heavily as she stares you down.

“Look at you”, she hisses. Everything about Vanessa commanded respect. Not one part of her demonstrated sex except for her slightly flushed cheeks and large pupils. Her hair was perfectly in place, her shirt was properly ironed. You, on the other hand, were tied up, beaten, and most definitely not commanding respect. It was exactly how Vanessa liked it on days like this.

She leans forward, tangling her hands gently in your hair. She tugs on your strands gently, lulling you into a false sense of security as you close your eyes, content. You should have known it wouldn’t last. “Pathetic, you are”, she says. Suddenly, she drags you to the office desk, making you gasp out in pain, flinging your hands to hers in a poor attempt to release her grip. Shoving you over the desk, she had you right where she wanted you in the first place; bent over and tied. “What, you thought I was going to treat you?”, she laughs. You stutter, words being unable to properly form. “Nothing happened! You were there the whole time! Why am I being punished for your jealousy issues?”, you yell out as she begins to scratch your back deeply. Her nails dig into your skin, fire spreading everywhere you touch. Wailing and twitching in her grasp, you hear her from behind. “Stupid girl. So disappointing when you act out against me”, she taps on the handcuffs. “Are you forgetting who protects you? I can harm you instead if you want baby, just ask”. She pauses, waiting for your reply. Nothing.

She smiles. You can feel the cockiness being emitted without even seeing her. Instead, you intently stare at the table, wishing you were in bed right now instead of feeling the humiliation of your girlfriend lifting up your skirt to check your panties.

The cold table was a harsh polarity to your pussy; you hated how your pussy was throbbing faster than your heart. Vanessa hummed from behind you, clearly amused and proud of you. Leaning over you, the shape of her breasts being felt against your back despite her clothing, she whispers a soft “I love how much of a whore you are”, before standing back up and softly grinding her front against your bare ass. You widen your eyes as you feel something hard press against you. You love how hot and cold Vanessa can be. No matter how rough and angry she can get, she can never resist treating you first.

The sound of her unzipping her pants was as close as you were ever going to get to hearing church bells. Hell, even angels singing couldn’t replicate the sound of her strap slapping your pussy. Shutting your eyes, your brace yourself against the table, moaning as her cock dipped into your soft entrance.

“You think you deserve this?”, she asks, moving your hair back with her hands, a gesture she couldn’t help doing. Not when she knew you did nothing wrong.

You nod desperately, grinding your ass back into her strap, your pussies walls clenching around nothing in a desperate attempt for friction.

Vanessa stayed silent as she plunged her cock into your pussy. You, however, most definitely did not. Your screams filled the quaint neighbourhood as she thrusted into you at a brutal pace that didn’t account for your lack of adjustment. Your hands gripped anything on the table in sight, your body becoming simultaneously needy and overstimulated. “P-please Vanessa slow- oh FUCK yes-”, you cry out, conflicted with the pain.

She rakes her hands over your ass, switching between slapping your reddened cheeks and clawing at your lower back. Hearing her deep, ragged breaths, you knew she was close; the strap hit her clit at every thrust, making her let out lowly strained moans. “Van-”, you roll your eyes back, your vision turning white. She was hitting your gummy walls so right that it felt insane. Your arousal was streaming down the table and her legs, which Vanessa acknowledged by letting out a snort.

“Need to come, baby?”, she hummed. You whine, grinding back. You needed this release so badly; anything Vanessa had told you had already been forgiven.

“V- nessa I need to.. Please”, you bite your lip and squint your eyes, begging yourself to not release before she allowed you to do so. You couldn’t risk more punishment. She sighed as if thinking about it. She sped up the pace, pounding the strap in a way that made it ten times more pleasurable for her as it did for you.

As your fingers grabbed at the table, she let out the smallest whimper that made you go feral. You pleaded, over and over again, to come. You felt extremely betrayed and turned on as Vanessa slumped forward, her chest heaving from cumming quietly. “Oh y/n”, she moaned, “Cum now baby”, she snaked her arm around your waist to bring your ass up even higher as you came with a loud cry.

You let go of the table, your body now going limp. “Vanessa”, you sigh, unable to move. Despite your comfortable position, consisting of you flopping across the table and Vanessa holding you loosely with her strap still half inside of you, she pulls out and forcefully slips you over way too soon for your brain. The pleasure was turning into pain again, and you hiss as your ass makes contact with the table, the marks making it unbearable.

“Don’t think this is over”, she murmurs as you pull her closer.

You look at her, confused.

“It’s only 1 am. If you think I’m done with you, you are sorely mistaken”

#five nights at freddys #fnaf vanessa #fnaf movie #fnaf vanessa x reader #vanessa shelly #vanessa monroe #vanessa shelly x reader #vanny #elizabeth lail #fnaf au #vanessa x reader #vanessa afton #fnaf vanny #fnaf #mike schmidt

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carionto · 7 months

Text

What Humans call the "Thousand Yard Stare"

As more and more Humans interact with and integrate within Coalition stations, reports, closer to hushed whispers really, began to circulate of some Humans being... discomforting... to be around.

Initially we thought it was just rudeness or passive aggressive behavior or any number of subtle actions or choice of words, no matter how advanced or civilized there will always be some assholes.

However, when some of these "offenders" were presented to us peacekeepers, we found them to be perfectly polite and reasonable. As our conversation continued and shifted topics, whenever there was a lull or the focus was on another speaker for a longer time, the Human's gaze drifted somewhat.

Sometimes she would look to the side and it was harder to tell what her exact expression was, but every so often she would be looking at one of us, but... not. It was as if she was staring at something behind us, through us even. Beyond the walls of the station, it even felt as though beyond space and time itself.

It was one of the most unnerving and chitin-chilling feelings we've ever felt, but then the Human seemed to notice our change and became that friendly and cheerful person once again:

"Sorry, my mind drifted there for a bit. What were you saying?"

And the conversation continued as if nothing was out of the ordinary for the Human.

Upon our return to our office, one of the Human peacekeepers heard about our impromptu assignment and offered this explanation after we told him what happened:

"Oh yeah, I think that person was a retired firefighter or rescue worker of some kind. Professions like that can be dangerous and you'll eventually encounter something horrible at a disaster site or crime scene. Probably saw someone die, or a person they rescued later didn't make it, or it was a kid... It's the toughest when you're the last one a child sees before..."

There it is again. That look, but with a tinge of sadness this time. We didn't know he was carrying such memories. The untimely death of anyone is a difficult time for those that survive, especially when it is the young whose life was still just starting. It seems Humans with their heightened senses and sensitivity to the feelings of others these kind of experiences imprint a far stronger memory than for most.

"Anyway, we've got a bunch of names for such things, but typically we call it the thousand yard stare. It's an old measurement unit, don't worry about it. I think the meaning may have changed a bit over the years, but basically some people go through traumatic stuff and they decide, consciously or not, to sort of... detach themselves from reality. It's a coping mechanism.

A few people thrive on horrible things, but they're the exception. Most of us would go crazy or depressed or any other infinite bad possibilities our brains can go in if we don't find a way to separate ourselves from certain realities. It can get real bad otherwise. It's rare, but a few go truly nuts and try to inflict their pain unto others. Most end up suffering alone for a long time. And some can't take it anymore and decide to end it themselves.

Thankfully therapists and support options are widely available, so those kind of scenarios are really rare, like... suicide accounts for about three out of a hundred thousand deaths last time I saw those charts. Plus drones and automation take care of most of the dangerous tasks, leaving the vast majority of cases to be caused by interpersonal relations actually. A broken heart is one of those traumas we'll never get rid of it seems. That's just life, I guess."

#humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #humans are deathworlders #humans are space australians #I don't know if these tags are actually appropriate for this one #it feels weird writing about depressing adjacent topics like that #one one hand #I don't feel good about it #on the other #I feel I have to put it into words or it'll leave a stain in my brain #sometimes words are more like a tumor #and the only way to get rid of it is to transfer them to a public space #carionto

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sunraies · 1 year

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hiiii can u do rafe x reader? she is really shy and a very nice person and maybe she is jj twin and one day she is just browsing on a second habd bookstore cause obvi she cant afford to buy books all the time and rafe sees her there cause he took weezy there and he buys the books that she looked more interested at and later he approaches her and jj all protective

idk where i want it to go🤣 u can be tyr judge

thank uuuu

This is so cute! I hope this does the request justice. x

Second-Hand Books

Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

Warnings - Fluff, protective JJ, Reader is JJ's sister, but no description given. Hints of Luke being a shit dad.

As requested above

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

You loved the second-hand bookstore in Kildare. It sometimes felt like a second home. Its name and sign was by no means magical "Secondhand Books" written in cursive golden letters, but the atmosphere was.

The old converted shop was a treasure trove of wonders, tucked away in a little side alley. It smelt like an old library with its shelves filled with countless stories and adventures waiting to be picked up and read. There were plants dotted all around, and even ivy tangled amongst the fairy lights on the ceiling.

Mixed matched lamps, tables, and plush armchairs were scattered around. If you caught Ms. Peggy, on a good day, she would let you sit and read until closing. The old lady enjoyed your company, often making you tea and giving you cookies.

You returned the favour by helping clean, unbox shipments, and take orders. You never accepted a penny from her, even if it was desperately needed it.

"Wheeze, why are we here?" You knew that voice as it carried through the aisles. "The store up the road has brand new books, not these dusty, old shit ones."

"They aren't dusty. Some are old. But none are shit." the youngest Cameron's voice protested. "I like it here. Plus, there is no chance of finding first editions of classics in that one"

"Just look online." Rafe sighed as you peaked around the corner.

He stood close to the door, which bell had jingled as they entered, with his hands stuffed in his shorts pockets. The backwards baseball cup gave him a boyish charm as his sunglasses were tucked into the collar of his pink tee.

He looked a little out of place, but only by his uninterested expression. Rafe Cameron would most likely fit in anywhere if he wasn't jugding his surroundings.

Wheezie, on the other hand, had a smile so bright as she practically skipped into the store. "There is no fun in that. You can't smell the books"

"You're a weird kid, Wheeze." Rafe shook his head, but you caught the small smile as he watched his baby sister happily search the shelves.

"Shut up and help look for Little Women." Wheezie called over her shoulder. "Make sure it's first edition"

You were shocked as Rafe chuckled and held up his hands before helping Wheezie look. He checked the higher shelves that she was unable to reach.

One problem with Ms. Peggy was her store had no order to it. You had offered to organise and arrange in alphabetical order, but she claimed it took away the magic of finding the perfect book.

"Here." You smiled as you approached Wheezie. Rafe had given up looking about 20 minutes ago and was slumped in an armchair, scrolling on his phone. "It's not a first edition, but the cover is beautiful."

"Oh. It's beautiful!" Wheeze smiled, taking the book and admiring the cover. "It's ok, I just said that, so it would give me more time in here." she whispered, making you laugh.

Your laugh caught Rafe’s attention as he quickly glanced up from his phone. His eyes looked you up and down.

Damn, how did you look so beautiful. He was sure he'd seen the crop top you were wearing on Kie before, but it looked so much better on you. He loved the way your shorts hugged your ass and waist. He even smiled a little at the shell anklet at the top of your greyish white Converse.

"You find it?" He asked, having shook the thoughts from his mind and tucking his phone into his back pocket.

"Yeah, Miss Maybank helped me," Wheezie smiled, remembering her manners, even if you were the same age as Sarah. "But I wanna look around some more."

Rafe sighed and rolled his eyes at her pleading look. "Alright, fine. One hour, and then we gotta go."

As Wheezie bounced around the store, he flopped back into the chair, even picking up a book from the table and glancing at it.

What you didn't realise was that as you looked away, he would glance over the top of the book every so often and watched as you moved around the store. He noticed that you would read the back of a book, flick to the first page before smiling and tucking under your arm if you like it.

"Just the one, Ms Peg." You smiled at the old lady behind the till before digging into your old, tattered, looking tote bag and pulling out your purse.

"I can put the others to the side for you, dear." She offered as you had walked up to the till with a pile of five.

"It's ok. If they are gone by next week, then it wasn't meant to be." You said as handed her the cash.

You didn't know why you even admitted to buying all five as you should have known your card would bounce. Maybe this time, you had just been hoping that Luke, your father, hadn't run up the credit bill.

You wished a goodbye to Wheezie as she walked up the counter with a pile of books and even gave Rafe a smile and wave as you left the store.

*-*-*-*

The sound of a dirt bike coming up the road broke you out of the world you were emersied in. You had been reading your new book on the creaky old porch swing on the porch outside. Enjoying the evening coolish before sunset.

At first, you thought it was JJ coming home, but then you realised he'd come home an hour ago with John B and Pope. You could hear them laughing in the house.

"JJ?!" You called into the window open as you stood up, placing your book on your blanket. "Are you guys expecting anyone?"

You were a little nervous as unplanned visits from people not in the Twinkie or Kie's car normally meant your father or JJ had caused trouble.

The rider stopped a few feet away, and your eyes widened in shock as Rafe Cameron removed his helmet. His hair tousled from the helmet and his cheeks little pink.

"Rafe?" You frowned and hugged your hoodie around your body as you hid your hands in your sleeves.

He looked a little unsure of himself as he walked over to you, a cotton tote bag in his hand. "These are for you." He held the bag out to you as he glanced around, not looking at you directly.

You took the bag, completely confused before gasping as you looked inside. It was the books you had to leave at the store.

Before you even had a chance to question it or say thank you, the screen door burst open as JJ came flying out "What the fuck are you doing here, Kook?"

You tried to pull him back as he got right in Rafe’s face "Jayj. Stop"

JJ looked between you and Rafe "What the fuck did he say to you?" He asked you before turning to Rafe again "What'd you say?"

"What's it to you, Pogue" Rafe looked like he was trying to hold back his anger but with JJ right in his personal space it was hard.

"Stay away from my sister, pretty boy" JJ pushed Rafe a little "Get the fuck outta here"

John B and Pope appeared in the doorway but before they could back up JJ, you got between the two that were squaring up to each other.

You stood with your back to Rafe as you spoke to JJ but could feel him breathing heavily behind you.

"Jayj. Go back inside" You sighed and got annoyed as he stared at Rafe over your head "JJ, go the fuck back inside. I will call if I need you"

It took you actually pushing JJ a little for him to snap out of it. He looked at you before nodding "He tries anything. We beat him. He's on our terf now"

You rolled your eyes "I'm sure, he won't. But sure, you boys can protect your territory if needed"

You knew Rafe was taking a risk being in The Cut, especially after the stunt he pulled the other week. You knew why the boys were bitter as you hadn't been too happy either after finding out he'd jumped Pope at the Country Club.

You watched JJ walk backwards and stand on the porch with the others. You sighed before turning to face Rafe.

"I can't take these." You held the bag out to him, but he stook his head.

"They're yours," He said, rubbing the neck of his neck. He seemed nervous and not because of the boys glaring at him from the porch. "Bin them, read them, do whatever you want with them."

You looked in the bag again before smiling. "Thank you, Rafe." You smiled at him.

"I better go." He sighed after nodding at your thanks. He looked like he wanted to say more but walked back to his bike

"Bye," JJ yelled. "Don't come back. The Cu- Ow!" You cut him off as you shoved into his shoulder

"You guys are fucking unbelievable" You muttered walking into the house, leaving them looking offerened at each other.

As you sat on your bed, you pulled the books out of the bag before finding a note, tucked into one of them. Your heart fluttered as you read it.

'I would buy you all the books in the world, just to see that smile - R'

#rafe cameron #outer banks rafe #outerbanks #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #outerbanks fic #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron fic

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luveline · 8 months

Note

for early eddie and roanie!! maybe eddie and roan sees you in your work get up for the first time and they’re just in awe and think you’re so pretty!

ty for requesting ♡ eddie and roan —eddie and his daughter meet you for dinner after work and find themselves surprised at your attire. fem!reader

"Dad, what–" Roan stammers, smart but young enough to struggle anymore, "what are we doing, um, here?"

Eddie puts the car in park. "We're having dinner in a restaurant! How fun, right?"

"Right. We're not going home?"

Eddie gets out of the car and takes a breather. It's weird for them to go somewhere after daycare that isn't home or the grocery store, he can understand her confusion. He's nervous about it himself, and he could really do without more sweating. Right now is the only time you could see him for the next couple of days (a friend's birthday, a hair appointment, a work commitment you couldn't squeeze out of), so despite his bedraggled appearance and Roan's stained dress, he's here.

Eddie opens Roan's door. "Well, Y/N's busy for a couple of days, but she still wanted to see us," he says, unclicking Roan's car seat. He lifts her out and sets her on the asphalt of the parking lot. "So we have to do it right now. She squeezed us in."

"Oh…"

Eddie crouches down in front of her to smoothe the hair from her face. Careful, he brushes kinks and coils behind her ears, hands dancing down to her shoulders, her arms. He dusts her off. "Let me get your cardigan from the trunk. It's cold, huh?"

"Shivers!" she says.

"No, not shivers!" Eddie guides her away from the door to close it. Roan takes his hand without being asked, following him to the trunk. "Here, babe, let's get this on and then we'll go inside. We should have a little bit of time before Y/N comes." You're cutting out of work early.

Eddie worries you'll get a good look at him all grease-covered and clammy and turn straight back around, but this is exactly as he looked when you asked him out the first time, and despite being busy you were insistent on seeing him. Good signs. Plus, you've seen him dressed up, so maybe you could just superimpose that image of him onto his frizz.

Eddie makes sure Roan is buttoned up warm before offering his arms. "Want me to carry you? I know you've had a long day, haven't you?" Roan wraps her arms around his neck and he stands, lifting her against his chest. She calms him down whenever he's nervous, resting her cheek on his. "Okie dokie, let's go inside."

"Kiss?" Roan asks.

Eddie kisses her chubby cheek. "Kiss," he says, the wool of her cardie soft under his hand.

He rushes into the restaurant to get her out of the cold, rubbing her back in a pointless mission to keep her as warm as possible. It's a small restaurant inside of an Inn, dark wood and carpeting lit by butter yellow sconces. It's nice but not fancy, a family place you chose without any input from him. He's always pleasantly surprised by how willing you are to have Roan join you —this wouldn't work if you weren't, but some people wouldn't be as accepting of it as you are. He thinks he's pretty lucky.

Luckier still when he sees you already waiting at the little podium. You're distracted by something in your pocket, looking up at the sound of the door closing. "Hi, Munsons!" you say, big sweet smile on your face.

"What are you wearing?" Roan asks.

You give a startled laugh. "This is what I have to wear at my stupid job. Do I look silly?"

"You look beautiful," Eddie says.

He means it more than anything. He's used to seeing you in nice skirts with a little chain necklace on. And that's perfect, you always look like the sweetest thing god ever let near him, but this is a different kettle of fish completely. You look—

"So pretty!" Roan says, clapping her hands together.

You visibly fluster at the double compliments. "I have to wear this stuff to seem professional. I always feel like I'm playing dress up."

"Are you kidding?" Eddie asks. "You always look great, this is… you look stellar. I mean." He shakes his head with feigned disapproval. "They let you walk around like that?"

You bring your hands to your cheeks.

"I'm kinda embarrassed, we look like a mess compared to you," Eddie says, shifting Roan in his arms sheepishly, his shoulders hiking.

"What are you talking about? You guys look nice! And they know it's after working hours anyways, you don't have to be perfect. Just hungry. What do you want, princess? They have a buffet, does that sound nice? We can have unlimited mac and cheese."

Roan's stomach gives a gurgle right on schedule. She nods emphatically.

You nod back, the buzz of their compliments here to stay as you step up to the podium. "I have reservations for three, under L/N?" you sound infectiously pleased.

Eddie dips his head down to Roan's ear. "Thank you for being so nice, babe. I think you made Y/N really happy."

"Can I have clothes like that?" Roan asks.

Eddie chuckles, picturing Roan in a button up shirt with a stiff collar and slacks, smart black kitten heels to match. "Maybe when you're older. I don't think you'd find it comfy enough."

"It's actually not too bad," you say, as the three of you follow a hostess down a gentle gradient into the restaurant.

Eddie shakes his head behind Roan's. You catch his plea, coughing suddenly. "I mean, the heels make my toes cry and I can't do any running or dancing in my pants, but you get used to it, Ro."

Roan lifts her lips to Eddie's ear. "I like dancing," she whispers.

Eddie pats her back. "I know. Let's stick to comfy clothes for now, okay?"

"Okie dokie. Why don't you wear stuff like that to work, dad?"

"It's hard to explain."

"You don't want to look nice?"

Eddie sighs as you laugh behind your hand. "It's dirty work, bub, I don't know what to tell you."

764 notes · View notes

crazyk-imagine · 2 months

Text

There’s a Heat Between Us, You Must Admit

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Plus size!rader

Characters: Plus size!reader, Anthony Bridgerton, Benedict Bridgerton, Colin Bridgerton, Daphne Bridgerton, Violet Bridgerton, Mildred “Millie” Nightington (reader’s cousin), Bernard (the servant), Eloise Bridgerton, Francesca Bridgerton, Gregory Bridgerton, Hyacinth Bridgerton, Simon Bassett, Augie Bassett

Warnings: Anthony is an idiot, the bee scene (mainly from the book scene), drama, Daphne doesn’t want to see her friend end up alone, reader gives Anthony the biggest side eye ever, reader and Anthony are idiots, Millie is a sweetheart, reader and Anthony are competitive, the sideburns line was something I learned about, reader is stubborn, Anthony is oddly very emotional in this, reader knows a lot of things, reader doesn’t know how to deal with her emotions, pregnancy scare, the pregnancy scare reminds me of a sitcom

Word Count: 13,647

A/N: Reader’s last name is Starlington and also, super excited to have finally finished this one.

*1,700 follower celebration post*

Also, Happy Valentine’s day!!

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Sometimes you loved your dear friend Daphne and other times you didn't, right now for example, you don't.

Honestly you don’t know how this got brought up (again) but you’d wish she would stop; it’s not going to happen even if she wants you to officially join her family.

You knew her being the first to marry out of the two of you was going to lead to more of her shenanigans, but this was too much for you.

You sigh, setting your cup down to look her in the eyes, “I have no plans on being in this season.”

Her shoulder sagged, “I understand that but-”

“But, nothing. Daphne, I am more than content with my being staying very much untied to a man. If I happen to meet someone worth it, you’ll know.”

Anthony glances over in your direction and his mind goes elsewhere.

You’re his sister’s best friend who also became Benedict’s best friend soon after you met the rest of his family.

He isn’t particularly upset at the fact that you’ve managed to befriend his siblings (slightly better than he could) but, there’s something that keeps bringing a certain idea to the front of his mind.

“Are you going to take your turn or continue staring?” Benedict asks.

The eldest shrugs off his brother’s comment.

Anthony uses the dreaded “death mallet” and once again, manages to pass the others.

Daphne heads towards her siblings before they can scream and shout at her for sitting down instead of taking her turn.

You sigh, shoulders sagging because you know she means no harm; you know that but, you can’t force yourself to love and care for someone you don’t have feelings for.

You’d never admit it (out loud or to her) but there are nights where you do wonder how it would be if you did get married to someone you loved.

The concerning part is how her brother sneaks into your mind; not your closest friend, Benedict, or the third oldest, Colin, and of course not, Gregory.

No, Anthony is the one to invade your mind and corrupt your dreams with his charming smile and smooth movements.

And you would never dare tell Daphne or your cousin of your thoughts; no matter how hard she tries to convince you he feels something for you.

You take a deep breath, returning your focus onto the game only to meet a pair of oak brown eyes gazing upon you.

You tear your gaze away at the sounds of Violet walking down the stairs, carrying a smiling Augie in her arms earning a smile from you as you observe the happy baby.

You glance towards her and offer a polite smile, giving her a moment to settle down in the free chair before turning to focus on the young babe. “Hello, Augie,” you greet him with a baby tone and shake his chubby fingers.

“He’s always taken with you,” Violet comments.

“I am the one who always manages to search for his mother when he cries for her. Sometimes I believe myself to be a dog.”

She chuckles, “that’s not it.”

“Why else would he like me?”

“You have a natural instinct that he senses. Children know these things.”

“If that’s what you say.”

Daphne steps away from the others, wanting to see her child. “She is right, you know.”

“Not you too,” you groan.

“You will make a fantastic mother.”

“Someday.”

“It could happen sooner than one would think.”

“What are you planning?”

“Nothing.”

Anthony stares back at you once more, observing the way you interact with his dear nephew. As he searches for someone to call wife, his most secretive thoughts keep coming to mind. The more he searches and the longer you stay, the more he finds himself wondering.

His mother continues to help him in his search for a wife albeit reluctantly since she finds herself so fond of you. She’d never explicitly tell him to pursue you but, she could always kindly ease him into the right direction, which is when his disbelief comes to the surface, truly believing you to feel nothing for him.

He knows if he tried to pursue you and it fell through, he will have ruined a lifelong friendship for his family- as he watches Daphne hold her purple mallet for you to take- he realizes he can’t pursue you.

Not that he’d ever given it any real thought, but he’d never be able to forgive himself if he was the reason, you stopped coming by.

You shake your head.

She puts it in your hand, persuading you into taking her place so she can attend to Augie.

You step down from the seating area with little energy.

His sister offers encouraging nods.

“I see you finally came to join us,” comments Anthony.

You avoid his gaze- you can barely stand beside him. “Not like I wanted to,” you reply.

“You’re scared to lose?”

You scoff, turning to look up at him, “that is not what I said.”

He smirks, leaning closer to you, “you didn’t have to.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “we’ll see who’s laughing when I win.” You walk away, taking your turn. You’re satisfied until you sense him behind you.

He follows you, “for someone who didn’t want to play earlier, you’ve certainly found your spirit.”

“Or was it a trick?” You smirk, glancing at him when the ball rolls through the metal hoop with ease. “You look nice,” you comment, turning around to walk away.

Anthony’s brows furrow together, his body takes over as he steps closer to you, standing beside you. “What do you mean?”

You turn, struggling to find the right words without sending the wrong message. “I only meant you look nice. You know, people- people can actually see your face now.”

He continues to stare at you.

“Your sideburns were nice but it- they- people may have assumed you grew them to hide what lies in your heart.”

“And what do you think lies there?” The words escape him before he could process his thoughts.

“I believe the love for your family and future wife is there, along with the care and compassion you hold for them. I do have to admit, I am a bit glad you shaved.”

He tilts his head, “and why is that?”

“I was afraid you would have continued growing them and at some point, they would connect,” you use both hands the gesture from your sideburns to your upper lip, “and you would look as though you were wearing a mask of sorts,” you say with one hundred percent seriousness until you think about it and snicker, covering your face with your hand.

Anthony is also unable to keep himself collected and joins in. He straightens his posture, “what of you?”

You take a deep breath, fanning yourself. "What of me, for what?”

“What do you think lies in your heart?”

“The same as you, I suppose. Love and compassion for my family and the few friends I have.”

“What about me?” He asks before he can stop himself.

“What?” You don’t know what to think.

“I-” He walks past you, placing his mallet back into place before exiting, wandering to the garden. He needs to get as far away from you as he can in order to clear his mind.

You don’t understand what’s happened and place your mallet beside his before chasing after him.

He stares at you, half listening to you and his attention moves elsewhere.

“Are you even listening to me?” You stare at him, wanting to understand him. You’re too into your thoughts to hear the faint buzz.

The noise sends a shiver down his spine, he knows the noise too well; his nightmares (if he can remember any) always start with the faint buzz.

He doesn’t move as he searches for it. Sadly, for the eldest child, he doesn’t have to search for long as the small, striped animal floats around you. He prays to whoever is listening to hear his silent prayers for it doesn’t sting you; he can’t lose someone else to the blasted creature.

“Anthony?” You ask, glancing down when you feel something land on you. You realize why he can’t look away. “Hey, it’s alright.”

He can’t focus on your words, his mind rattled with the memory of his late father. “Don’t move,” his voice is low and shaky.

“I know, it’s a bee but, it won’t hurt me as long as I-” you close your eyes due to the discomfort you get from the sting, and it sends him into a whirlwind. “I’ll be alright,” you say, still trying to reassure him. You open your eyes to see how pale he’s gotten.

He invades your personal space, grasping onto your arms. “Are- are you-” He glances back and forth between your face and your wound. His voice is low, far too low for you to understand what it is he is trying to say but you swear you hear him mutter something along the lines of, “don’t move'' repeatedly.

You know you must calm him down before he can do anything. You reach for him, placing a hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at you. “Breathe, Anthony. I need you to breathe.”

He can’t say anything, almost as if he’s choking on air. Images of his father invade his mind, filling him with worry and dread.

You can see he is close to tears. Your voice draws him out of his thoughts. “I promise you. I hope you know I wouldn’t lie to you. I’m fine but I will still have a doctor come and look at it so that it may heal properly. I’m right here. I’m here with you.”

Anthony’s hands grip your biceps, he notices how swollen the sting site has become.

“It stung me, but I am not hurting. This has happened before. I will be fine.”

None of your reassurances are having any effect on him.

The image of his father taking his last breath in his mother’s arm is enough to make lean in to suck the venom out.

“Anthony?! What are you-” You cut yourself off at the feeling of his shaky hands trying to remove the stinger. “Anthony, you must stop.”

“Shut up,” he hisses, trying to stay focused on keeping you healthy (and alive) while fighting to keep his father’s death out of his mind.

You take deep breaths, you try to push him away, but he is insistent and stronger than you. “I am fine, I just need to see a doctor and I-”

“Would you be quiet,” he finally lifts his head to look up at you.

You gulp, “I know- I know what tragedy has happened in your family but, today will not be the same for me.”

He doesn’t listen and continues to squeeze the area.

You gasp, eyes widening at the feeling of his hands being so close to your breast. This has gone too far; you must stop this before someone sees. “Anthony,” you place your hands on his chest to push him away once more.

“Stop it,” he shoves your arms off him. “Let me get rid of the venom.”

“There is a doctor who can do this and-”

“The doctor is not here. I am.” He stops squeezing when some liquid begins to spill out of the wound.

You look down, finding the trail of liquid, “see, you did it. Now, I am going inside to-”

Anthony pulls out a handkerchief, wiping away the trail. “It’s not all of it.”

You wrap your hand around his wrist, stopping him from patting you dry. “You must stop this, Anthony. If anything were to have happened, it would have happened already.”

“There is still more,” he mutters, staring at the irritated area.

“You need to stop.”

“I haven’t gotten all of it,” he turns, staring at you.

“Whatever it is you’re thinking of doing. Don’t.”

“I have to get the venom out before it kills you.”

“It won’t kill me-” you gasp, seeing the determination in him as he leans forward. You place your hand on his shoulder, keeping his head away but fail to remove his hand.

The click clack of women’s shoes against the rock pathway alerts you, but you feel as though you can’t move.

A gasp makes you turn to find his mother alongside your cousin, Mildred (Millie for short), staring at the two of you with shocked expressions.

Your heart rate increases and gain enough strength to fully shove him away from you, knowing how this looks.

He glances up at you with a confused expression.

“Anthony?” Violet calls out.

His brows furrow further, he looks over your shoulder, “mother?”

“What is going here?”

“She was stung by a- a bee.”

“A bee?”

“Yes, a bee. I’d told him repeatedly I was fine. I’ve dealt with being stung before,” you say, struggling to keep yourself together.

“You were stung by a bee and the boy found himself attached to you?” Mildred raises a brow.

“Don’t look at me like that, Millie.”

“I’m not, I’m wondering how you think this can be kept quiet.”

“Kept quiet?” You repeat quietly to yourself.

“Neither of us would repeat a word of what occurred today,” he argues.

“That doesn’t mean anything for a woman’s reputation,” Mildred says with an attitude.

“You do realize anyone could walk out here and spot the two of you, don’t you?”

He doesn’t say anything.

“Don’t you?”

He grits his teeth, “I do.”

“You should consider yourself lucky that it was us who found you and no one else, rake.”

“That’s enough now, Mildred,” Violet intervenes. “Let’s,” she takes a deep breath, “let’s go inside and talk about this further. Lady Starlington needs to be seen by a doctor.”

You can’t stand to be there any longer and turn away from him, walking past the two ladies and Anthony; your pace speeds up before you know it, you’re sprinting back to Audrey Hall.

Mildred sighs, “now what are we to do?”

“We will all walk back and discuss this,” Violet says.

“Of course, we are but, what am I to tell my parents? They’ll be curious to know why their niece’s name is in a Lady Whistledown column.”

Anthony grunts, taking a step towards the two. He passes by them and quickly announces, “we will marry before the end of the season.”

“Did he say what I think he did?” asks Mildred, watching his figure walk away with wide eyes.

Violet sighs, shaking her head, “I believe he did.”

“Did I do the right thing?”

The mother of the family stops, turning to face your cousin, “what do you mean?”

“I- I basically pushed themselves together into this potentially unhappy marriage. I know I sometimes I can’t keep my comments to myself but, I swear I had good intentions. It's just- when we came around the corner to see that I- I worry about her. I fear I may have ruined my relationship with the two.”

“I can’t give you an exact answer but, I can say that as long as you have your cousin’s interest and happiness in mind, the most you can do is hope for the best. They are both emotionally driven people, even if neither wishes to admit it. This will be hard for them, and it may be a test.”

“A test?”

“To see if they will make good of their marriage. You and I, as well as my other children, have come to realize how they connect with one another. They can’t see it for themselves but there is something there and now is the time for them to see it.”

“I suppose so. What if they can’t make it work?”

“Then I fear they will be in a miserable marriage.”

No one else disturbed you after the doctor left.

You sit at the edge of the bed, your vision blurs; you cover your mouth with shaky hands. You don’t want others to hear if they happen to be walking by. You cry, struggling to catch your breath.

Everything you’ve been feeling with the last few days is slowly escaping you. Your mother is requesting to visit and marriage situation with Anthony; it’s too much.

You take deep breaths, aiming to calm yourself down.

Maybe it would be better if you left and went home or maybe somewhere far from here.

A knock disturbs you from your thoughts.

You wipe your cheeks, hoping whoever it is will go away but fail as another knock comes through. You take a deep breath and open the door, “Viscount Bridgerton?”

He lifts his gaze off the floor, “what happened to Anthony?”

Any curiosity falls from your expression, “your making light of the situation?”

He shakes his head, “I would never.”

“I think you’ve done enough today. It’s almost time for bed.”

He takes a step closer to the door, his hand inches away from being crushed, “I,” he sighs, taking a step back, removing his hand from the door. “I have come to ask if you would have dinner with me.”

“With you?”

“I think it would be wise if we talked before anything becomes… official.”

“Now?”

“Are you going to use full sentences any time soon?”

“Why should I? Is it bothering you?”

“Nevermind that. Are you going to join me or not?”

“Will there be someone else there?”

He gives you a reluctant nod, “yes, your dearest cousin, Mildred.”

“I’ll be down in a moment. I will meet you there.”

“I’ll wait here.”

“Do you have to?”

“No but, I think it might be good practice for us.”

“Practice,” you mumble and shut the door. You walk over to the vanity, staring at yourself, wondering how you got into this situation. You snatch the extra handkerchief and pat your face, removing any evidence of your despair.

You take careful steps toward the door and exit, Anthony leaning against the wall across from your room. He holds his arm out for you to hold.

You shake your head.

“Don’t you think you’ve touched her enough today?”

He sighs, “Mildred.”

“Who else would it be?” She interlocks your arms together, pulling you ahead of the eldest Bridgerton. “Come on.”

“Do either of you know how to use it?” Anthony asks, staring at the stove.

Mildred shakes her head, “the maids are always around to do it.”

“Both of you sit down,” you say.

“Do you know how to work this?” he asks, sounding surprised.

“I do. It’s too late for us to have a full meal, instead we can have a glass of warm milk.”

They sit at the table in the corner of the room.

Anthony watches as you move gracefully around the kitchen.

“If you keep staring, she’ll catch you.”

He turns to her, “what?”

“You’re staring.”

“No, I wasn’t,” he denies.

“You can lie all you want but I know you care for her. Perhaps, you always have and never wanted to admit it before and the whole bee situation was a ruse so that you could stop being a ninny and marry her instead.”

His jaw drops, he doesn’t know how to respond. “I did not-”

She waves him off, “do not lie Anthony, I know you love her and have for some time now, only you must realize it now than later in your marriage. I do not want her… or you to be unhappy. Oddly enough, I seem to care for you but, obviously not the same way she does you.”

He scoffs through his nose, muttering to himself, “obviously.”

You place the glass of milk in front of the two, interrupting their conversation. “Don’t tell me you’ve decided to marry my cousin instead.”

Anthony nearly chokes on the liquid, setting the glass down and snatches the handkerchief you hold out for him.

He wipes his chin, “what makes you think I would want to marry, Mildred.”

She scoffs, “you’d be lucky to have me, Bridgerton.”

He narrows his eyes to her.

“I’ll be just outside this door, leaving the two of you talk and nothing else.”

You furrow your brows, “wait. Mil-”

She waves to you.

You take a deep breath, not wanting to face him.

It was different when he wasn't paying attention to you and rather his own life, but now... you hope he doesn't want to talk.

"We should- we should talk."

Everything in your screams to not run away and hide, even though it sounds like it would be the better option right now.

"How are you?"

"I would be happier if I was marrying for love and not because of your concern over my virtue," you mumble.

He overhears and sighs. “Don’t-”

“No, I understand. Truly I do, just- I need- it’s late. Apologies for keeping you up.” You grab the skirts of your dress and walk out.

Mildred watches as you run away. She spins around and stands in the doorway. “What did you do?”

“Me- I-”

She sighs. “Just shut up.”

He sighs and slumps in the chair. Mildred storms into the room after you.

“What happened?”

“Nothing.” You take a deep breath, hunched over your vanity.

“You know, you two act as a married couple who have known each other for too long and no longer know how to act lovingly around one another.”

“You are wrong, cousin. He is- he is the scum- the scum that rests at the bottom of my shoe. Why would I ever marry someone like that? Much less that Bridgerton, I mean, Colin would be a better option and I don’t like him as much as I do Benedict.” You keep your head down, “people marry for less.”

“I wish to marry for love, if it ever decides to come my way but until then I will deal with him marrying the only person, I care about that is close to my age.”

“So, you care enough about me to marry me off?”

“Don’t phrase it in such a way that makes me the bad guy,” she throws herself onto your bed.

“Go to bed. I will be fine, Millie.”

She props herself up on her elbows. “Are you sure?”

“I am. Please,” you look up and turn around, putting on a brave face. “I promise you. I will be fine.”

“If you’re sure-”

“Which I am. Goodnight, Millie.”

She sighs and steps outside of the room, “night.”

“Good morning.”

You don’t respond to Mildred.

“Are you ignoring me?”

“I am simply showing you the way my soon-to-be husband will treat me.”

“What do you mean?”

“It has already begun. I awoke early and decided I wanted to speak to him after thinking about it all. I say hi but he does not.” You shrug, "it doesn't matter now."

"It does though. Let me," she sighs. "Let me speak with him. I can- I can fix this."

"No," you say. “I don’t want you to be in the middle any more than you have.”

“Alright... now onto more pressing matters.”

“Such as?”

“Your plans for the wedding?”

“Oh, right.” You continue to stare out the window.

“Are you sure you're alright?”

“I just-”

Anthony stops himself from knocking on the door and decides to listen.

“I thought when I was to marry, I would marry for love not because I need my virtue protected or saved."

"If he didn't agree to this-"

"I would be a spinster."

"That is how I will live my life," Mildred grabs your hand and gains your attention.

Anthony takes his leave, unable to stay there any longer.

“That is not how I want you to live your life. I want you to be the one to have another you can call upon if there is something the matter because I won’t always be there and I need to know that you are protected before I leave.”

“You’re leaving?”

She sighs. “This isn’t how I wanted you to find out but yes. A week after you’ve been married, I plan on traveling the world.”

“Your childhood dream.”

“Precisely.”

"I- what if I'm not good enough to," you wave your hand around. "This."

"This what? I'm not sure I understand."

"What if- what if I am not fit to be a wife. I mean," you push yourself out of the chair and pace around the room. "I don't want him to be disappointed in the person he is to call wife. I don't want to be in a marriage of..."

"Regret?"

"Precisely."

She stops you by placing a hand on your wrists, “now is the time for us to plan your wedding. Violet and Anthony have been sitting in the tearoom since I came in here.”

“She’s- they’re- why didn’t you tell me?” You rush out the door.

You clean yourself up outside the door and nod to your servant, Bernard, to open the doors. You nervously smile at both.

Violet pops up from the chair closest to the window. “How are you?”

“Oh- uh- I’m,” you glance to the side and stare at her eldest, who locks eyes with you.

“I mean from the- well, you know,” she struggles to say.

You let out a breath of relief, “ah, yes. I do. I am- I am fine. I’m just happy that everyone else is fine.”

She smiles, “that is kind of you to say, but unnecessary.”

“I hear you came to talk about our upcoming… event.”

“Is that what Mildred told you?”

You furrow your brows, “is that not what you’re here to discuss?”

Anthony pushes himself off the couch. “Not yet. Mother, if you’d excuse us.”

“Anthony, I don’t-”

He gives her a look.

"We will be right outside this door."

"What did you want to discuss?"

"If we are to marry, we should have stipulations."

"You think I'll be so horrible that we need rules?"

"Not you. I believe if we have these, we'll have a better understanding of what should come from this marriage."

"Why don't I just stay by your side and show my face when you need me to so you can look like the perfect husband? Would that make things easier?"

He sighs. "That is one of the things we need to discuss, which events you'd prefer to come to."

"Oh, I get to choose those?"

"Please stop. I am trying to make this as easy as I can."

You clench your fists. "How am I supposed to be okay with this?"

“It’s my fault and I am trying to make up for that.”

You pause, “your fault?”

He nods, “yes, it was- it was me who... couldn’t.”

You step forward and place your hand on his, drawing his attention onto you. “It is not your fault when something so devastating comes to mind and you do all you can to prevent another. I do not blame you, but you must understand that I do not want to be one of those ladies.”

“Who?” The only word he can get out as he studies you.

Your compassion shifts into something of annoyance, one he knows too well. “You know who, someone who wants to be like Penelope’s mother or maybe even... all of the other ladies,” you chuckle, proud of the joke you made.

"I'm glad you can make jokes at a time like this."

You roll your eyes, "oh hush, I am still upset about pretending to be a perfect housewife for the one man every woman dreams of being with."

"Are you included?"

Your mouth agape as you stare at him.

"You two haven't maimed each other, perfect."

"Millie," you pinch the bridge of your nose.

"Oh, don't act so coy now."

You roll your eyes and sit down, waiting to hear what Anthony and his mother have to say. You pace along the floor, finding it to be quieter here than in the tearoom with the others, even if they weren’t talking it was still too loud. You know there’s no alternative for what’s transpired between you and your soon to be husband, but it still hurts knowing he will never love you the way-

“Are you alright?” Daphne’s voice draws you out of your thoughts.

You give her a small smile and hope she doesn’t poke further.

“I know this isn’t how it was supposed to happen but there is one good thing about your marriage.”

You scoff, “and what, pray tell, is that?”

“I finally can call you sister.”

You try not to show how happy that makes you, not wanting her to know she was right. “Thank you.”

She drags you over to the piano.

“I still don’t understand why you have many so pianos.”

She shrugs, “for moments like this, maybe?”

“Are you waiting for me to play?”

She nods, “of course, I am. You were always much better than I was.”

“I was not.”

“Show me then. Show me how awful you play, and I will not ask you again.”

You don’t know how long you had been playing for, but it was something you missed- not having a piano in your own home, you didn’t realize how long it had been.

You usually prefer to play when no one is watching but having Daphne by your side was nice, she always knew how to help calm you before things could get worse; everyone knew of your father’s temper, and no one wants to face that through his only daughter.

Anthony raises his hand to knock on the door but pauses as he listens, he doesn’t realize Daphne had learned a new piece. He slowly opens the door and finds you playing instead.

‘When did you learn how to play?’ He wonders.

Or maybe it was, you had always known, and he was too into his fantasies that he forgot to pay attention to the true version of you.

Just when he was hoping to learn something horrible about you; you’re becoming more and more like his...

“I didn’t know you played.”

You open your eyes and glance up at him, standing up as quickly as you can. “I don’t.”

He furrows his brows, “that’s not what I heard.”

“That- that was nothing.”

“Why are you lying?”

“I prefer to keep this information to myself so if you could kindly pretend you didn’t hear anything, that’d be best.” You exit the room, knowing you’ve left

Anthony in a wave of confusion. “What was that about?”

“She doesn’t like others to know of her talents because she knows they’ll ask her to perform one of them.”

“Her mother.” He finally understands.

“And her aunt.”

Now he truly gets it. "Is this what you two would do while I was out with mother?"

She shrugs and pushes the seat back. "Perhaps, or maybe you were never around long enough to learn about her even though you're entranced by her."

He stutters, unsure of where she could have gotten that idea. "What?"

She quickly hides her amusement before he can see. "Nothing. Goodnight Anthony."

He tries to stop her, but she ignores him, offering an excuse for needing to put Augie to bed. He wonders what else he doesn’t know.

You pace back and forth in front of his office door; this isn’t something you can do in person, is it? You sigh and wonder if it’s a wise choice to be doing this at all.

You slip the letter under his door and take a step back. “That wasn’t so hard.” You turn around and briskly walk down the hallway, hoping he doesn’t see that it was you who was there.

Something moving in the corner of his eye piqued his interest and moved closer to figure out what it was. He picks up the letter and opens the door, seeing someone’s figure turning the corner before losing sight of them.

He closes the door and opens the letter, wondering what you could have said when you’ve already said plenty.

Dear Bridgerton,

I I want to start off by apologizing for my outbursts, you don’t deserve them, and they are not aimed at you, but you happen to be the person I am talking to and... This is not how I expected the season to begin or end and I’m sure you didn’t either but if there is someone I were to marry, I’m happy it’d be you... because I trust you. I will do all that I can to be the perfect wife for you and if not, I apologize in advance.

Sincerely, Your annoying soon to be wife

The next day came, and you didn't know how to act.

You sit between Daphne and Mildred when he enters.

He sits in front of you and nods, acknowledging you, which you return.

The girls beside you don't know how to react, each staring at the other with a raised brow.

You two talked with his mother about the decisions for your wedding.

"Have you two discussed what you want?"

Anthony opens his mouth to answer but finds himself without an answer.

"Everyone will talk, and it will no doubt be in Lady Whistledown's column, but it would be preferred if we had a small ceremony, family only."

You don’t look up from your plate. Violet nods, listening intently. "I will use the dress my mother made when I was born, it'll save us time on getting a dress. The flowers can be your choice."

"And after?"

You turn to her, "it'd be smart to hold a small reception after all though it will increase because everyone will want to see who married the handsome and fortunate viscount."

You push yourself out of the chair. "I apologize but I realized I promised to spend time with the girls before we go out for our shopping trip."

"What just happened?"

"Have you two talked about anything regarding your wedding?" Violet asks her son.

"Every time we discuss something-"

"No, have you sat down and discussed what you two are to do? Who will be there? Anything that a soon to be husband and wife should discuss?"

His shoulders sag. "No."

"I want you to go in my place."

"What? Why?"

"It will give you two a moment to talk and prepare for the future hardships you two will face as a couple. Raise her spirits. She got a letter from her mother, saying she will not be able to attend. Perhaps that is why she is so uninterested today."

"She- how do you know?"

"I'm your mother, I know more than you would think."

Anthony waiting by the door frightened you. “Are you joining us?”

“I’m here in place of my mother.”

It takes you a few seconds to process what he said. “You are?”

He nods. “Shall we?”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath.

The failed whispering voices of the women around you, annoys you to the point where Anthony feels that he needs to do something. “Is there anything that has caught your interest?”

You shake your head.

“Let’s go. I know somewhere we can have a better time, away from the whispers of these women.” He leans in, whispering into your ear, “they’re jealous of you.”

You cover your mouth to hide your amusement, not wanting him to know he’s helping lift your spirits. You two exit the shop and return to the Bridgerton home. “Why are we back here?”

“We are going to have a drink.”

“With your family? Couldn’t we do that any day we wanted to?”

He holds his hand out for you to take, which you do. “Although that may be true, that’s not what I had in mind.” He places his arms behind his back, clenching his fist not wanting you to see the control you have over him. “We’re going to spend time in my office.”

“Oh? I’m invited in, I feel so special.”

“You should, very few are allowed in here, especially when I’m working.”

“Of course. The head of the house needs quiet or else.”

“I see going out has helped you.”

You watch as he fills the glass for you before grabbing it and swallowing it in one gulp. “You could say that.” You scrunch your nose at the sensation, maybe doing that was a bad idea.

He takes a seat in his chair.

“Could I ask you something?”

He nods, staring at you over the glass as he takes a sip.

“Did your mother inform of the one guest we won’t be seeing at our wedding?”

He slowly sets the glass down before returning his gaze to you. “She may have mentioned it.”

“Is that why you came with me today because she told you to and not because you wanted to?”

“She may have said she thought it was best if I take her place, but it was initially my choice to go.”

“You’re not lying?”

“What would I gain from lying to you?”

You sit up and reach for the bottle, filling your glass. “A relationship built on a lie.”

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Are you trying to make this harder than it needs to be?”

“I can’t just- you can’t honestly expect me to ignore that we are marrying one another when you never wanted to marry and I hoped that when it happened, it’d be with someone who loved me.”

He’s out of his chair before you realize he’s now sitting in the chair beside you. “What will it take for you to stop saying that?”

“What?”

He leans in closer. “Why do you think I could never love you?”

“I-” You gulp. “You have spoken before that you never want to marry, what else am I to think?”

“How do you know I couldn’t change? What if something comes of this relationship?”

Your breath hitches and you continue staring him in his eyes. “I suppose we’ll have to cross that bridge if we get to it.” You set the glass down and rush for the door, “I’ll take my leave now. I’m feeling quite tired after our outing.”

He grabs your wrist, pulling you back in before you could open the door. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pressured you into answering my questions.”

“What if I enjoyed them?”

You turn to face him with a small smile. “Then I am concerned for your being.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“Be honest, did you mother tell you about my mother is not coming?”

“No,” he shakes his head, but you know the truth.

“You don’t need to lie on order to preserve myself, it’s okay.” You sigh, “is it sad that a small part of me wishes for her to be there?”

“Not in the least. It’s natural for you to want your mother there-”

“It’s not because she’s my family, I just- I need her to stop pushing marriage onto me.” You pace back and forth, “this is my way to prove her wrong but that makes me feel worse because it makes me seem as though I’m being a bad daughter.”

“You’re not,” he disagrees with you. “That is anything but you being a bad daughter. If anything, she’s- she’s scared to lose her daughter to a new family because they know you will be starting a new life, away from her and that’s why she doesn’t want you to help.”

“But what if-”

His hand slides down your arm as if his hand lingering wasn’t enough to drive you mad, he tightens his grip on your hand.

You force yourself to focus on his words and not the warmth emanating from him.

“Stop. All the negative thoughts you have are not going to help you. But listen to this, you are a good daughter, and she should be happy to know her daughter will be taken care of. As long as you are a part of this family you will be taken care of and not have to worry about expectations.”

“I won’t,” you whisper, not meaning to. He shakes his head and gives a small smile. “I promise.”

He realizes he’s been holding onto you this whole time and his arm falls. “Can I walk you back to your room?”

You nod, ignoring the warmth flooding your cheeks. “I would like that.”

“Will I see you at breakfast tomorrow?”

“You will, and if I ask you the same question?”

He smiles, “I will be there.”

“Good, I think this is a good start to our future marriage.” You step inside the room.

“I am sorry.”

“What?”

“The marriage… and the reason we are to wed.”

“What do you mean?”

“I lost myself and-”

You shake your head, placing a hand on his chest over his heart. “I do not blame you for something as traumatizing as your father’s death. Please know that.”

“But-”

“Anthony Bridgerton,” you tell him using a stern tone. “Stop it. It may not have happened under the best of circumstances, but I am happy that I will be wed to you than some other man. I can at least trust you.” You step back into the doorway, slowly closing the door as you bid him goodnight.

He stands there, touching the spot where your hand was until he drops it, straining his hand as he fights to clench it.

Benedict and Colin happen to be there when he turns the corner.

“Quite a show you put on there,” the second eldest says.

“Yes, you’re whole “I’ll be the perfect husband” speech was wonderful,” the third eldest chimes in.

Anthony scoffs, “would you two quiet down?” He grabs them by their collars, dragging them into one of their miscellaneous rooms. “Why aren’t you two out?”

“How could we be out when you’re here?” Colin asks.

“Trying to woo the love of your life,” Benedict adds on.

“I’m not- you two are acting like children.”

“Us? Acting like children?” Colin starts, glancing at his brother.

“No,” the artist shakes his head, “I don’t think so.”

The soon to be married man glares at his brothers, unsure if he wants to listen further or not but if he doesn’t let them continue it’ll be worse in the morning. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “If I let you two continue, will you keep quiet in the morning?”

“Morning?” Colin turns to partner in crime. “What’s happening in the morning?”

The artist glances over his older brother and grins, “is the soon to be wed joining his family and future wife for breakfast?”

“With him being silent, I’m going to say yes.”

“Finally, you agree with me.”

“I agree with you,” the third eldest argues.

“I don’t recall.”

“Okay, now that you two are done, I’m going to bed.”

“To dream of your wife.”

“She looked quite nice today, wouldn’t you say brother?” Benedict asks.

“I dare say, she looks even more radiant since her recent engagement.”

“You two are done,” Anthony shoves them out of the room. “You two will not speak of her like that again. She is your friend,” he jabs Benedict’s chest. “And your future sister-in-law,” and does the same to Colin. “You will respect her and not talk like this again, understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

The next morning as soon as you step out of the door, your future husband paces. “You’re awake.”

“I am, it’s time for breakfast.” You close the door behind you. “Shall we go downstairs and join the others?”

“We’ll be the first ones down there.”

“Either way, I’m going down.”

He holds his arm out for you to take. “Shall we?”

You give him a small smile and nod. “After breakfast, what are your plans?”

“I have a few things I need to look over but after that I’m free. What did you have in mind?”

“I planned on going for a walk along the back of your family’s estate and perhaps we could talk about things.”

“Just the two of us.”

“Mildred could join us?”

“I’d rather she not.”

“I don’t blame you; she’s been on a rampage since earlier this week.”

The doors open and his brothers, Daphne and Mildred, are already sitting at the table.

“Of course,” he mumbles.

“Did you say something?” You ask him.

He turns his head towards you, offering a small smile. “No, it’s nothing.”

The glances between him and his brothers were interesting, intriguing to you and the girls, who also had no clue what was going on.

He stands behind your chair, hand resting on your shoulder. “I shall find you after I am done.”

You nod and watch him go.

“Well, that was interesting.”

Daphne shushes your cousin.

You lay across the couch, reading another book and were so into it, not even realizing that he had entered the room.

He smiles as he steps closer, wondering what’s going on inside your head, finding you to be more interesting as he observes you reading, compared to his sister. He leans against the back of the couch, bending down to catch your attention.

A shadow moving catches your eye and you turn, screaming soon after.

You place your hand over your heart, taking deep breaths. “For heaven’s sake! What was that for?”

“What do you mean?” He smirks, arms on around the sides of your body as he stays behind the couch. “What are you reading?”

You turn around and cross your arms, “why does that concern you?”

“Can’t a future husband be curious as to what his future wife is into?”

You glance at him from the corner of your eye. “Is that all?”

“It is. But that’s not why I’m here.” He doesn’t say anything else.

You get impatient and wave your arms around. “Spit it out. Come on.”

“We are to marry by the end of the week.”

Your brows raise is surprise, “oh.”

“Is that alright?”

You take a deep breath, “I just- I wasn’t expecting it to be so soon but that’s- okay.” You place the book beside you and stand up, brushing the wrinkles out of the skirts of your dress. “I need to go over some things with your mother.”

The humor falls from his face. “Wait- where are you going?”

"I just told you."

He follows after you, "I heard you but-" He reaches for you, pulling you back. "Can we talk?"

You take a deep breath to calm your beating heart. Why is this happening now? You thought you were over this. Your lips part as you stare at his hand. You shake your head, staring up at him. "I- what do we need to talk about?"

"Lady... things." He’s quiet for a moment. "I won't push you but know I'm here to talk if you need someone."

"Thank you." You take off, not noticing the way his hand slowly falls or the way he clenches his hand.

It's been a long time since he's felt the skin of a woman he was enchanted by, especially one he's to call wife.

"Did we catch a moment between you and your beloved?"

Anthony sighs, "don't you have charcoal to break for your fruit drawings?"

His younger brother puts a hand to his chest, offended by his brother's comment. "I'm hurt, Anthony. Truly, I am but it's not why I'm here."

He turns to face the artistic Bridgerton, taking notice of the serious look on his face. "What's wrong?"

"Sister."

"Which one?"

"Not one of ours."

He furrows his brows, mouth agape to ask why but realizes who his brother is referring to. "I thought we had taken care of this situation?"

"We did but then she decided to cut their trip short and has been calling on you since she arrived today."

"I need you to take care of her. I cannot allow her to ruin my marriage."

Benedict nods, "you finally figured out you truly care for her, didn't you?"

Anthony chuckles, "I'm not discussing this with you. Call Colin if you need help."

"We got it. Go take care of my future sister."

He nods for the doors to be opened. "Good morning, ladies."

Your cousin shakes her head, your mother fawns over him while Violet takes a sip of her tea.

Your eyes widen at the sight of him.

He places a hand on the back of your chair. "I expect you all enjoyed your breakfast before discussing more of the wedding."

"Oh, certainly. Your family has been nothing but kind to us, Viscount."

You adjust the napkin on your lap to keep you from rolling your eyes at your mother's fake enthusiast tone.

Mildred pats your arm, knowing the strained relationship between you and your mother.

He notices the tension in your shoulders and wishes he could pull you away from all this madness. "Anything I can help with?"

"Oh, heavens no. You have other more important things to take care of. Leave this to us ladies, isn't that, right?"

You purse your lips and let out a quiet, "mmhmm."

Maybe it was better when she said she couldn’t come to the wedding. Yes, you were sad, but it was better than the real thing.

Violet glances between you and your mother. "Why don't we let the girls go on a walk with Anthony watching over them?"

"But-"

"I think this will be good for them. It will give them more time to talk."

The woman hesitates to say yes, debating if this is truly a wise decision before making a decision.

You didn't realize how tight you were squeezing Mildred's arm until she let out a whine.

Your eyes widen, "oh, Millie. I'm so sorry."

"It's fine. I should have known better. I know how crazy she makes you." "This always happens?" You don't look in his direction. Your cousin nods her head, "unfortunately."

"Why has she made this unexpected visit?"

"She," Mildred pauses, giving herself time to think of a better answer than truth.

"She wants to know if I am with child and if the reason, you're marrying me is to save my family's name."

Anthony nods, he understands why you preferred planning this with his mother and your cousin. "Should we?"

You two glance over in his direction. "What are you implying?"

He shrugs, "I merely suggest we pretend as if there is something going on, give your mother something to worry about."

"You want her to pretend as if she is with child?"

He nods, confirming Mildred's nightmare.

"Please tell me you're not thinking of going through with this. It’s absurd and- oh, no. Now I like it."

You glance between the two. "Is this something you two finally agree on?"

They stumble for a minute, waiting for the other to argue and tell you no but come to realize you are, in fact, correct.

Daphne stumbles upon the three of you and smiles, neither Mildred nor her brother are arguing, and you don't look uncomfortable.

"Daphne!" Your cousin waves. "Come, come. We need your knowledge on a subject."

She nods, smiling. "May I ask what you need my help with exactly?"

"How does one pretend to be with child?"

She owlishly blinks, tilting her head staring at the woman as if she's lost her mind. "I'm sorry?"

"We are feeding into my aunt's absurd idea of her precious daughter being with child."

Anthony purses his lips, finding himself to be offended more than he had been by Mildred's comments. "I'm not the worst option for a father."

"Moving on," she waves him off before returning her attention to his sister. "We need information."

"And you want to do this?" She turns to face you.

Your eyes widen slightly, not realizing she was going to ask. "I think it would be... nice to show mother how well her child is without her watchful eye."

"And you're sure this is the way to do it?"

You shrug, "it's not so much if I think this is okay, it's more like she needs to realize I am my own person and can live a life without her dictating everything for me."

Daphen nods, "okay. I will help."

Mildred smiles and interlocks her arm with the Bridgerton girl's. "Come, we have much to discuss."

You turn to your future husband and raise a brow.

He stares at the two, wondering what advice his sister could have to offer before holding his arm out for you to hold onto as you all return to the hall for dinner.

"Are you sure about this?"

You hum, not having listened to a word he said.

"I asked if you're sure about this. Mildred and I were joking, we don't expect you to play along with this idea."

"Your kind, but this is something I need to do. She won't listen to reason if I tell her I don't need her help, she'll involve herself, no matter what."

"And this is how you'll get her to stop?"

You sigh, "we'll see."

The dinner was entertaining for most, you felt bad for embarrassing Violet and the Bridgerton name all to get your mother off your back, but you felt there was no other way to stop her from inserting her wants and needs before yours.

That was the first night you had a stern talking to from your future mother-in-law and- even though you could have thought of a better way to handle the situation, it felt nice to be taken care of the way a child should, compared to the way your mother raised you.

You didn’t talk to your cousin or future husband after and went to bed with too much on your mind.

Then came the wedding, it was as lovely as could be even if it was short notice and only family was invited.

It came as a surprise to everyone, mainly yourself, when your mother decided it was time to stop and act like a caring parent.

She smiled and fixed a piece of hair that was out of place. “I know this isn’t the wedding you dreamed about-”

“I didn’t dream of a wedding often.”

She sighs, realizing she’s been putting words in your mouth rather than stopping to listen to you. “I never dreamed of marrying someone I didn’t love. If I were to ever get married, I’d rather it be with someone I could have a future with than someone who would rather be with another.”

"I know."

"And you know what else- you know?"

She nods, "I've been trying to relive my life through you, and it isn't fair. I'm here to watch you marry the man who will provide, take care of you," she cups your cheeks. "And love you the way you deserve."

You shake your head, fighting to keep your composure, not wanting anyone to know of your breakdown. "He doesn't love me."

She nods, "he does, you just can't see it."

"How-"

Your mother shushes you, "it's time."

The reality of the situation didn't hit you until it was time to walk down the aisle but with the help of Mildred and Daphne, you were able to overcome it.

That was also the only time you've felt the lips of your husband.

Since the wedding it feels as though all the progress you two made was wasted, even Mildred was tired of your constant complaints before and after she left.

You sit in the library, biting your nail until it hurts and turn the page; a new habit of yours, one Eloise would be proud of.

You started hiding away to read when everyone went off to live their lives now that the beginning of yours has ended started. You’ve been reading more since your cousins’ departure; it was a tearful morning but you're happy to know she’s out living her life the way she wants.

Then Daphne and Simon left the hall so they could return to their lives in their own home with little Augie.

You've tried to go out with Violet and Lady Danbury, but they preferred to ask when you two would expand your family; safe to say you also hide in here for another reason.

The youngest Bridgerton’s are swept away for their studies as they continue to grow. Francesca and Eloise are nowhere to be found half the time (hence where you got the idea).

You don't know if you'd be able to handle talking to the other two brothers since marrying the eldest. The comments they make at breakfast are enough, going on a walk with them would be too much.

Not that you mind the quiet even if it does get lonely at times.

You push yourself off the ground, placing the book back in its place only now realizing how dark it had gotten and your candle has died, providing little light to guide you; its barely the size of your thumb and the wick is dying the longer you stay here.

You open the door, carefully closing it and wince as the hinges creaking echoes down the hallway. You pause at the sound of footsteps only to hear a familiar girls whisper. "Hyacinth?"

She smiles, "what are you doing here?"

"I was reading."

"In the dark?"

You two glance down at your source of light that died as soon as she mentioned it. "The candles died."

“Can you take me back to my room?”

You smile and nod, “of course I can.” You grab her hand and try to find your way back to the hallway where her room is.

“Finally, we found it.” You glance down at her, “I told you, we would.”

She smiles up at you with a sleepy expression. “I knew you would.”

You open the door and get her settled into bed before exiting.

You wonder what it would be like to have your own child and stop. Are you really thinking about what it would be like to have a child when you haven’t seen your husband since your wedding day?

You shake your head and continue down the hallway before turning around, realizing you made a wrong turn; you sigh, leaning against the railing, staring at the ballroom floor.

You remember the first time you arrived at the hall and saw him. You didn’t know why your heartbeat was so fast until your cousin explained it to you.

You wonder if he knows how you feel and if that’s the reason, he’s been avoiding you.

“What are you doing awake at this hour?”

You spin around and find- “Ben!” You cross your arms to cover you.

He smiles, “what are you doing out of bed and away from your husband?”

You take the jacket he offers you, “I’d rather be reading but my candle died- oh no.”

“What?”

“I left it in your sister’s room.”

“Ah, so you’ve seen the whole family other than the one man you should be seeing.”

“Quiet now, Benedict. Unless you want others to know you’ve seen your brother’s wife in her night dress.”

“It wouldn’t be the biggest scandal our family has dealt with.”

You lower your head, rubbing your forehead at his words. “You’re an idiot. I’m going to bed.”

Anthony had a rough night and going to bed was something he desperately needed, maybe seeing your figure laying in our shared bed would make him feel better; he always seems to calm down when his eyes land on you.

That was something he always enjoyed about you whenever you were around.

He stops removing his coat when the door opens, and his brother is behind you while you stay in the doorway with his coat around your shoulders.

His brother takes the item from you and takes his leave before Anthony starts asking questions (not before Benedict gives him a suggestive look).

He doesn’t want to ask- he shouldn’t ask, it’s not his place. “Something I should know about?” He hopes this doesn’t lead to a fight.

“What do you mean?”

“We’re going to pretend as if my brother walking you, my wife, wouldn’t be a scandal if we were elsewhere.”

“Why? Don’t you trust me?” You ask, tired of all the games; him avoiding you and now having an interest in you.

“Do you know how much it affects me?”

An annoyed sigh escapes him, revealing to you how he feels (about the situation and not yourself). “What affects you, sweetheart?”

You ball your fists, “stop calling me that.”

He can’t call you such an endearing name when he hasn’t been acting like your husband. “That is what a husband is supposed to call his wife, is it not? A charming word of endearment for a handsome lady, such as yourself.”

“Stop talking…”

“What else am I to call you? I cannot call you by your name, it would prove-”

“How little we care for each other.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You. I’m talking about you.”

“Me?”

“You are a pest.”

“A pest,” he whispers, finding himself offended.

“You have never once thought of myself in the manner of being one’s wife but yet you act like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re my husband.”

“Am I not?”

You study him. “You want to make a big deal out of this when you’ve been avoiding me since the wedding? Therefore, you are a pest.”

“I- I haven’t- when was I avoiding you?”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

He struggles to remove his coat and you make your way towards him, helping him.

“Your brother found after I helped Hyacinth get back to bed after she found me exiting the library. He didn’t want anyone else to see me in such a… intimidate manner.”

You stare at him through your lashes. “Anything else you want to add? Maybe,” you place his jacket on the back of the chair before taking a seat at the vanity. You start removing the pins and ribbons keeping your hair up, your tiredness hitting you as you prepare for bed.

He sighs, untying his collar. “I wasn’t avoiding, I’ve been… busy.”

“Busy? You’ve been busy?” You undo the sheets, settling onto your side. “I’m going to sleep until you can come up with another excuse on why you’ve been avoiding me.”

“I- believe me when I say I wasn’t avoiding you because I- this isn’t easy.”

You spring up, glaring at him. “And you think this is easy for me?”

“I’m not saying anything about our marriage. I have been,” he pauses, thinking of the right word. “Dealing with personal matters, things you shouldn’t have to worry about because of a mistake I made in the past. I am trying to protect this because I care about you.”

You gulp, “I’m sorry.”

“What was that?”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms as you stare at the ceiling. “I’m sorry for thinking you were avoiding me but to be fair,” you spring forward, pointing to him. “I- I-“ You struggle to speak as you catch the sight of his bare chest.

He knows what he’s doing to you and his chest warms at the thought of only you being the one to see him in such an intimate way.

You turn away, fiddling with the sheets. “Like I said, I’m sorry for assuming the worst but considering-“ You close your eyes, following the way his lips moved against yours. You push him away, the warmth of his chest lighting a fire within you. “Just because we are married, does not mean you can use your body to change the subject or get me to stop talking about something you don’t want to.”

The corner of his smile twitches before he allows himself to smirk.

You’ve only ever seen him use this expression with his family, never once was it directed at you.

You’re happy tonight ended the way it has, you’re feeling closer to him, learning more of what makes Anthony Bridgerton tick.

He closes his eyes, chest heaving with every breath he takes. “I’m here.” He pulls away from you.

Your hand falls at your side.

His figure fades away, leaving you confused.

You burst up, confused as to what your dream means and glance beside you, finding him still asleep. You push yourself out of bed, needing the get away for a moment, sitting in the bench underneath the window.

You stare at the stars, wondering if there was some way, they’d be able to respond to your questions. It’s only been several days since your marriage became official; you still feel as though you’re not and none of is real.

You think back to your first kiss you two shared at the altar and the one you shared before going to bed. Your fingertips brush against your lips, relishing the sensation you felt then as it fills you with something you never thought you’d be able to enjoy.

‘Is this what love is?’ You think, staring at the bright moon, knowing it won’t answer you.

You glance back at him and wonder if he’ll ever love you the way-. You wipe away the stray tear, knowing how much it’d break you if he decided to cheat or leave you entirely.

Your greatest fear was thinking you’d end up alone.

Now you fear he’d be the one to leave you without looking back.

He squints, the moonlight disturbing his slumber. “What are you doing up?”

Your head snaps in his direction. “Hmm?”

He repeats his question, sitting up in bed, his night shirt wrinkled and slipping off his chest.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you tell him, not believing your own words. You crawl back into bed when you notice he won’t fully fall asleep until you’re near.

As soon as you settle onto your side, his breathing evens out.

You lay your head on the pillow, fighting the thoughts you know will keep you awake, feeling you’ll need more sleep than anything.

"We need to try for a child."

He glances up from his work. "I didn't realize your mother was in town."

You narrow your eyes to him, something he is truly fond of even if you are upset with him. "I'm going to pretend as if you didn't say that."

You close the door and pace around the floor in front of his desk.

“If you find yourself calm enough to talk, could you repeat what you said when you busted into my office.”

He knows what you said, there's no denying what he's heard but what's got you riled up to bring up such a topic.

The wedding was only three weeks prior, he knows of the idle gossip some of the other women enjoy talking amongst each and he's curious as to who said something.

He's also been trying to keep himself busier than usual to keep him from staying up too late and thinking of performing such acts upon you. He sets his pen down, giving you his full attention. “Why are you asking now?”

“I’m not asking,” you argue.

Is it such a wise idea to try and push for this? Most likely not but you're too upset over the gossip to think logically.

He studies you for a moment, wanting to understand what happened to make you think such a thing.

“What happened? I mean, you and Daphne went out for a walk, right?”

You pause, trying to understand where he’s getting at before nodding.

“Who said something to you?” He raises his brow.

“No one… exactly,” you huff, crossing your arms.

“I know they’re expecting me to be with child by now or at least, in the works of trying for a baby and I don’t want there to be another Whistledown column with either of our names in it. It’s not just my reputation that could be ruined, it could be yours or your family’s this time.”

He can’t help but smile at your kind thoughts. “I appreciate the concern and I’m sure my family would as well, but everything is going to be fine. We don’t need to worry about this.”

You continue having your pity party. “I’m glad you seem to think so.” You furrow your brows, thinking about how he’s avoiding the topic. “Why are you putting this off?”

“Putting what off?”

“You know what I’m talking about, don’t act as coy as your brothers do when asked about their courtships.”

He doesn’t have a way out, does he? A knock on the door alerts him. “I have other business to attend to, I’ll see you at dinner?”

You scoff, “you pretend as if you want me and need me when we are in our shared room but now that we are out in the open you want nothing to do with me? Tell me, are you just using me for your own gain?”

He sighs, “please, can we,” he glances at the door to find his brother. “Talk about this another time?”

You nod, offering a fake smile, “of course, husband.”

His attention turns to you once more, “I thought we weren’t going to have the normal marriage?”

“It seems we were both wrong.” You shrug. “Goodnight, husband.” You yank the door open, rushing past Benedict and the guest without looking back.

Kate smiles watching as you put yourself further away from the one person she wants. “It seems you and your bride are having minor troubles, may I?”

Anthony grits his teeth. “What’s brought you here, to my family’s hall, today?”

Her mischievous smile turns into an evil smirk, “I’ve come to visit an old friend, after all, didn’t you say I was always welcome?”

“That was before you tried to take my family’s fortune and run off.”

She plays with the cuff of his coat sleeve. “If it makes you feel better, I have a husband.”

“Then you should be with him.” He removes her hand from him.

If this had happened a year ago, he would be crawling back into her embrace but now that he has you, the only person that can keep him sane; he’s not going to make that mistake.

He sits down at his desk, rereading the page he was working on when you came in. He knows he’d be stupid if he fell for her tricks once more and ruined your marriage (and family name).

She pouts, not liking the fact that he doesn’t want her anymore.

“Perhaps you should go back to your home. We must clean up for dinner,” Benedict chimes in.

She spins to face the second eldest, “dinner? I’d love to.”

Anthony pushes himself out of the chair. “That’s not an invitation.”

“Why? Are you scared I’m going to ruin your precious marriage? You truly think I’d be harsh to do such a thing?”

“We don’t need to think it if we know.”

She smirks in trump, feeling as though she’s won.

You glance at the two with a sinking feeling in your stomach.

Is this the way your marriage is going to end? It took a while before you could remember where you knew her from and as soon as it clicked, you were fidgeting in your seat. Why did he allow her to sit so close to him?

She knows he's a married man and doesn't care. Maybe she thinks the marriage is fake and- you aren't worthy enough to be his wife.

You push the food around on your plate, your appetite forgotten. You remember the rumors about their relationship but could never be proven since she went back to India with her mother but now that she's back, you don't know what to think.

He notices and wishes that she didn't invite herself to join his family tonight.

You ask him about expanding the family line and him avoiding the topic entirely because he doesn't want you to feel as though this is a duty the two of you have to do.

He remembers when you two were first engaged and how you wanted to marry someone who truly loved you rather than someone marrying you out of a convenience.

His heartbeat when you told you should try for a child, he nearly passed out on the spot at the thought of you baring one of his children.

He knows you'd make fantastic mother; he doesn't doubt that in the least but since the wedding day he's realized something he should have a long time ago- something Kate is seeing for herself; he truly loves you.

Nowhere is it near what she thought they had but she's happy that he has someone who cares for him in more ways than she could.

She bids her farewells before pulling you to the side. "I apologize for intruding on your family dinner, but I think you should know you have nothing to worry about."

You furrow your brows. "I'm sorry, what-"

She shakes her head. "He loves you in more ways than he ever could care about me. I saw it tonight." She smiles, "all I ask is that you take care of him better than I could. I know you're good for him."

You stare at the door as it closes, unsure if anything that’s just happened is real or if this is a fever dream.

“Are you alright?”

You turn to face your husband and gulp. “Perfectly fine, why do you ask?”

“Did- She didn’t say anything, did she?”

The blank expression from your face falls and is replaced by one of annoyance. “What if she told me something she shouldn’t have? Is there something you wanted her to hide from me?”

He shakes his head, “is it too late to say no?”

You scoff, “you’re an idiot.” You close the door, not caring if it slams shut or not.

He stops it before it closes in his face, “I’m sorry I- it’s not true.”

“Then what is? Why do you care whether she’s told me about yours and her relationship or not? I know about you two. I’ve read the columns and-”

“That’s what I was worried about. I don’t want you to think something that isn’t true happened.” He stands behind the chair in front of your vanity. “I don’t want you think I’m a rake when I’m not, us marrying has changed things-”

“Us getting married is the only reason you’ve changed?”

“No,” he stumbles over his words, something he does more when he’s around you than anyone else he’s ever spoken to. “I-”

You push yourself out of the chair and walk towards the bed. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I keep pushing and I’m sorry but right now, I just want to go to sleep.”

“After you listen to what I have to say.”

“I have not felt the way I do for anyone else. I- no words can come close to what I feel for you.”

His grip tightens on the back of the chair. “I cannot- cannot breathe when you are near.” He catches your gaze, “you drive me insane when you try and argue with me. I don’t understand how you have vexed me and stolen my every thought. When you are here all I can think of is you, when you go out with my sister, you are the one thing on my mind. I- you, you are the bane of my existence, but I can’t seem to keep myself from you.”

You turn around, catching his gaze in the mirror. “Why are you telling me this?”

He spins around, “so you understand why I have changed. It’s not because I don’t care for you. I care too much about you. I have for a long time which is why I was scared when that bee was near you.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “I was terrified I was going to lose you and I didn’t understand why until our marriage.”

“But- that was days ago.”

“Exactly,” he takes a step closer. “I’ve been losing my mind trying not to push you into something you’re not ready for. And then, earlier when you came to me, telling me we should try for a child. I didn’t know what to think.”

“What about Kate?”

He owlishly blinks, trying to understand where you’re coming from. “What about her?”

“You’ve been with women before me and I’ve accepted that, but Kate was here, having dinner with your family. She’s- she’s been around town from what I’ve heard being whispered behind my back. She was here and you didn’t tell me. You- you say that you love me, but I don’t know what to believe when the woman you were in love with, who later broke your heart, returned into your life and you didn’t so much as think to tell me. Benedict was more involved than I was!”

You don’t know why you’re getting so upset over this, it shouldn’t bother you this much since you don’t-

“I didn’t want her to spout lies about me to you and make you think I am not going to be a good husband.” He grabs your hands, “believe me when I say she is not relevant. You are my future.”

Your chest heaves with every breath you take. “How-” Your nose twitches as you purse your lips, collecting your thoughts before you completely explode.

“How what?” He switches between looking into one eye and then the other.

“How could I be blind?”

“To what?”

“I have loved you since I could understand what the word meant and now you- you-” You gesture to your back, “help me with my corset. I cannot breathe.”

He nearly rips your dress off you as he pulls the strings keeping the oxygen from getting into your lungs.

You hang your head, trying to keep your emotions at bay.

“Sweetheart…”

You turn around, pointing at him with wet cheeks. “You have ruined me. You have ruined me for any other man since before my first debutant and have had my heart for just as long and I didn’t know it yet.”

He holds his hand out for you, allowing you to take a step closer to him.

You accept and stand with a few inches between you two. “You have bewitched me from the beginning, if you can accept my foolishness and accept me now, I would happily give myself to you only if you can return the feelings.”

“I wouldn’t be able to survive if I declined your love.”

For the first time since the wedding, the two of you share a genuine kiss and not one where he tries to use his body to distract you. It’s one that makes it feel like the world’s stopped spinning and you two are the only ones in the world.

A knock on the door alerts the two of you.

You wince, covering your eyes with your hand before reaching over for him. “Anthony, wake up.”

“I’m coming in and I hope you two are decent.” She groans, “God, you two are naked. Gross.” Mildred complains loudly to whoever stands outside the door with her. “I thought they’d at least have the decency to be awake by now.”

You can hear Benedict’s voice, but it comes out all muffled because you’re not fully awake.

He opens his eyes and turns his head to find your beautiful face lying beside him, hair in disarray on the pillow. His thumb brushes across your cheekbone. “Good morning, Viscountess Bridgerton.”

You find it hard to resist the urge to smile and open your eyes, staring at him with nothing but love and happiness. You hum, brushing back his hair so it doesn’t look as messy, wanting to see more of his handsome face.

“Good morning, Viscount Bridgerton.” You remove your hand from his hair, pulling his hand away from your cheek to peck his palm. “What do you have planned for today?”

“Spending time with my wife, although I do have to say, I don’t think she’d appreciate me lying in bed with someone as breathtaking as yourself.”

You can’t help but smile. “I think if you paid her the same comments you do to me, she’d understand.”

He sucks in air through his teeth, “I don’t know. I think you’d have to meet her to find out the kind of woman she is.”

“I think I know.” You lean against your elbow, meeting him halfway for a morning kiss.

“Would you two hurry up? We have plans. I did not come here on a boat to see you two to stay in bed when I have plans with my cousin. Do you hear me, Bridgerton?”

He sighs, flopping back onto his back. “How could I not?”

You smack his chest before pushing yourself out of bed. “I’ll be ready soon. Go downstairs and wait for me, Millie.”

“If you’re not down here before sunset. I’m leaving.”

You chuckle to yourself. “Okay.”

He pulls you closer to him, hands resting against your waist, slowly wrapping around you. He kisses the exposed parts of your back before pulling you down, kissing along your shoulders.

“This cannot be safe.”

“Just because it’s a new corset, doesn’t mean it’s not safe.”

“For the baby.” He ties the strings through the loops. “When can we tell them?”

“When they won’t freak out.”

“Never, okay.”

You chuckle and spin around, placing your hands on his shoulders. “They will know soon. It’ll be fine.”

He stares into your eyes. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I think that’s my line.”

“Not today.”

You peck his lips before ordering him to tie the corset. “I’ll see you after our walk.”

“Don’t overexert yourself.”

“I won’t. Goodbye, ‘Thony.”

His eyes never left yours as you’re dragged away by your cousin.

Benedict steps inside. “Someone’s happy.”

He shakes his head, ignoring his brother; so happy go feed into the comments.

314 notes · View notes

thelov3lybookworm · 9 months

Text

I Didn't Ask For This (part four)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Summary: Marriage had always been something sacred to little Y/n, something dream like, where her husband would come and whisk her away to a fairyland. At least, that's what she had always thought.

All her dreams would be shattered.

But maybe she can salvage them?

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: forced marriage, azzie being and asshole(obviously, he's been forced), suicidal thoughts, almost death, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

A/n: I promise it gets better. Future chapters are going to get happier.(that was a note to myself so I don't get carried away again)

•○🌑○•

Y/n blinked the sleep from her eyes as male voices reached her, jerking upright when she realised she was not in her bed. Where was she?

Then, as her eyes passed over the red walls around her and the expensive furniture, everything that happened the previous day came rushing back.

Her head swung around to try and find the source of the voices that she had heard, now quieted. She found the General and the High Lord standing right by the door, now staring at her.

As she registered the fact that she probably looked like a mess, she hurried to stand, nearly faceplanting in the process. Blood climbed up her neck and cheeks as she turned to look at the High Lord who had stepped forward.

"Good morning Y/n. Did you have a peaceful sleep?" He asked, his tone gentle. Though she hadn't, she nodded. His eyes were filled with understanding, and he sighed. "May I ask you a question?" When she gave a curt nod, he continued. "Why were you sleeping here? Cassian says he showed you to Azriel's room."

"I'm not–" She began, her voice raspy, before cleared her throat. "I'm not sure I can tell you that my Lord."

"Rhysand, please." He said. "It's okay, you can tell us anything. Did he kick you out?"

Her eyes darted around nervously. Maybe this could be some kind of test? Maybe Azriel was hiding in a corner of the room, looking for a reason to hate her more if she spoke bad about him out to his brothers.

When she didn't respond, the General spoke up. "There are guest rooms here. You didn't have to sleep on the couch. It would have been uncomfortable."

The door next to the General opened abruptly, then slammed back shut, making him jump. As if the house was trying to say that it tried to get her to a better place. A tiny smile bloomed on Y/n's lips.

The house was... adorable to say the least.

"The house tried to get me to go somewhere else, but I was tired and decided to stay here." A wind that sounded a lot like a huff passed through the room, making Y/n shake her head. "I hope that's okay."

"That is completely fine." The High Lord– Rhysand, she had to chide herself internally– grinned. "I've got a feeling you and the House are getting together well?" At that, Y/n smiled. A real one.

"You could say that."

The door creaked open then, the General's mate peeking in.

"Oh, I've been searching for you." She said, staring straight at Y/n. Stepping in, she pointed to the two males. "Get out."

"Why?" The General all but pouted.

"Becuase I say so."

He grumbled, but left with the High Lord. The female–Nesta, Y/n now remembered– came closer.

"I was going out with my friends today, and I was wondering if you would like to come along."

Y/n shook her head slowly. "I don't know them, and I wouldn't want to intrude–"

"You wouldn't be intruding. Plus, I'm pretty sure I can introduce you to them. And other than that, they would love to meet you. You can become a part of our group." She said, an undertone of excitement in her voice, which made Y/n falter, wondering if she should accept the offer.

Then, she sighed and nodded. Nesta let out a squeal of happiness and linked her arms with Y/n, pulling her away and into a guest bedroom, getting ready for the meeting.

•○🌑○•

Y/n settled on a simple white gown and a braid for her hair, despite Nesta's very weird preferences. Her bag had appeared in the room as soon as they entered, increasing the love she already felt for the house.

Now they were sitting in a cafe, waiting for the others to show up. From what she knew of the two females, they had tragic pasts. One of them hadn't stepped foot out of the House of Wind for two years, and she only started a few months back.

Soon, they arrived. It wasn't anything like she expected. She thought I would be uncomfortable and awkward, but they behaved as if Y/n was their childhood friend. As the evening progressed, they talked and laughed, returned to the house and settled in one of the smaller libraries, then talked about their pasts. Them telling her about their pasts without an ounce of hesitation prompted her into speaking of her childhood too, and they were horrified to say the least.

At one point, Emerie was even ready to go and murder Y/n's father, but settled down after a few moments, still fuming. It warmed Y/n immensely that someone she had barely known for a few hours would care so much for her.

She just prayed that her husband would stop being an asshole too.

•○🌑○•

It had been two weeks of absolute hell for Y/n. Because of him.

Whenever she walked into a room he was in, he would give a huge sigh of annoyance, glare at her and walk away. Whenever she tried to speak with him, he would yell at her, just like the first night. Everytime, she had to hold back tears.

She didn't understand it, this hatred. Did he not remember that she was forced into this as well? Or did he think she went to Hewn City purposefully trying to force him into a marriage? Or did he not want to accept the fact that no one was to fault in this situation? Did he just hate Y/n?

As she turned a corner, she was met with a sight that broke whatever hope she had, and probably answered all of her questions.

Standing there was Azriel, with a female pressed between him and the wall, and, he was kissing her, passionately.

Elain. The High Lady and Nesta's sister.

Y/n stood frozen for a moment before she stepped back and away from sight. She pressed herself against a wall, her breaths coming shorter and shorter. How could he? How–

She knew she didn't own him, but it hurt her all the same. They were married for Cauldrons sake! And even though their relationship was nonexistent at best, she never would do what he was doing.

That was when she noticed a shadow right in front of her face, bobbing up and down. All blood drained from Y/n's face when the shadow darted away, back to its master. There was nothing Y/n could do except run.

So she did, as fast as she could, towards her room. As she pressed herself against the door, footsteps sounded, coming closer to her room. Panic clawed at Y/n, her heart clenching when the person knocked.

She didn't answer, trying to quiet her breaths. But then a voice called her name, and she started to calm down.

Nesta.

Y/n opened the door and Nesta walked in as if she owned the place.

"I was searching for you and saw you running, so I wanted to check if everything's alright." She declared, but then she faltered, her features softening when she saw the state Y/n was in. "What happened?"

It all came pouring out of Y/n as she sat down in an armchair. Nesta was fuming, so Y/n added, "It's okay. He doesn't owe me anything."

A mischievous glint entered Nesta's eyes and she grinned. "If he doesn't owe you anything, you dont owe him anything."

"What do you mean?" Though Y/n had an inkling of what might be brewing in Nesta's mind, she still asked carefully.

"Oh you just wait darling."

•○🌑○•

"I–I can't wear this, Nesta." Y/n mumbled as she stared at herself in the mirror. Nesta had come to Mor, telling her of her mastermind plan, all while Y/n had stood in a corner face-palming. They had then informed her that everyone was going to a place called Rita's, which had been the main reason Nesta had been searching for her.

Now they had forced her into something that barely had the right to be called a rag, let alone a dress.

"You can and you will." She was adamant. But when Y/n refused to budge, Nesta handed her another dress. This one, thank the cauldron, could be called a dress, but for someone who didn't need to breathe. As she tried it on, she had to wonder why she was even here in the first place when she could be peacefully sleeping right now.

This dress was stretchy and fully black, like a second skin on Y/n with a high neck and long sleeves that both left everything to the imagination as well as nothing.

"Will this be alright?" Mor asked. When Y/n nodded, they both launched into what their plan was as Y/n blushed.

•○🌑○•

She wasn't really fond of this place, Y/n decided in the first few moments she was there. It was a little too loud for her. But she had a purpose, or rather, Mor and Nesta had a purpose.

When everyone, including Azriel had arrived at Rita's, the two females had pulled Y/n away to the bar, where they sat on high stools and sipped drinks. Mor and Nesta were having wine, and Y/n had some non alcoholic drink that Mor had ordered for her.

According to their plan, they were going to get Y/n a man, as Nesta put it. Someone who might want to have Y/n, because when Azriel and she had promised themselves to each other, there was no rule stating that they could have a relationship with someone else. And while Y/n didn't really like the idea, she had to distract herself with something.

Soon enough, a male slid into the stool next to her, giving her a wink and a smile. She panicked, turning to Nesta, who nodded enthusiastically. So Y/n gave him a small smile back as he started up a conversation. Nothing much, just where she was from and what her interests were. It all went smoothly, until it didn't.

The male glanced behind Y/n, going pale. She turned too, wanting to know what happened. And there he stood.

Her husband.

He looked... scary, for the lack of a better word in her mind.

"Who are you?" He asked the male in a deadly voice, completely ignoring Y/n.

"I could ask the same of you." The male said, though his voice trembled.

"But you won't, you already know who I am. So, run, little boy. Before my generosity ends." The male opened his mouth to argue, but Azriel continued. "That's my wife you're–"

Y/n stopped hearing anything he said then, a ringing in her ears. He had just called her his wife, when he would not even look at her when she tried to talk to him. She stared at him, wondering if he was serious. But then he turned to her.

"We're going home." And she wanted to slap him. He didn't give her a choice, taking her hand and winnowing away. The next moment they were standing in one of the sitting rooms in the House.

And then, he had the audacity to turn and walk away. Every other time when she had tried to speak with him and he had walked away, she had let him do that, but not now. Not when one moment he was calling her his wife and scaring away males who wanted to talk to her, and the next he pretended as if she didn't exist.

So she walked ahead of him and blocked his path. He stopped, but didn't look at her, increasing her fury. "Why would you do that?"

He didn't answer, starting forward again, trying to go around her. She pushed against his chest. He finally looked at her, his eyes cold. "Let me go, Y/n."

"Then tell me why you did that!"

A sigh escaped his lips. "Because it felt right at the time, but now I feel like that was a mistake. If I hadn't taken you away, then maybe you would have left me alone."

She gaped at him, at a loss for words as he again tried to walk away. When she didn't move, he turned towards a nearby balcony and took off. Her heart was breaking, and the agony was unbearable.

So she silenced everything around her, and, her resolve hardening, she walked towards a staircase nearby.

She just wanted some peace. And peace she would get.

•○🌑○•

The cool night air stung Y/n's cheeks, but she didn't feel it through the numbness in her body. She just wondered what the air would feel like when she sped through it towards the ground.

She was standing on the edge of a landing, one that didn't have a railing. These past weeks she'd had nothing to do except explore the house, and she had come across a secret stairway full of dust and spider webs which led to here. From the looks of it, no one knew about this place.

She took a deep breath and lifted a leg, suspending it in the air as she stared below her and imagined what would happen if she took a step forward. A smile bloomed on her lips. She could finally have her peace, and she won't be a burden for anyone any longer. Freedom lay just a few inches from her feet, all she had to do was let go of the restrains holding her in place.

Of course, she wasn't going to take that step. Not because she wanted to live or anything like that. No, she wouldn't take that step because she had come to care for the Inner Circle, mainly Nesta, Emerie and Gwyn. Maybe Mor too. So she wouldn't take that step.

But when did life ever go according to what she wanted? Was it even life when she didn't know what it felt like to be alive?

She started to take her feet back, to set it on the firmness of the floor below her. But then, it got caught against the rough stone. She lost her balance. And fell forward.

All thoughts fled her mind except the fact that she was falling too fast. Even though it might have given her some relief, she didn't want to die.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry.

But she did neither. If she was going to die, she would die with dignity. She would die with all the confidence she never had.

The ground was getting closer, the air tearing at her hair and cheeks and eyes. So she closed her eyes and waited for the pain. Or would it not hurt? Maybe she'd stop feeling the moment she touched the ground.

A loud flapping sound came from somewhere above her, and then suddenly Y/n's body was jerked in the other direction, all the air fleeing her lungs as she felt two solid bands of muscle and fire wrap around her. Despite not knowing who had become her saviour, she didn't care. She was just grateful for being saved.

But then she opened her eyes to find herself staring at Azriel, who pointedly ignored her. All the thoughts of why she had wanted to do this in the first place came back to her, and she pushed against his chest. He looked down to glare at her, flying faster.

He landed in the training area, but even though they they were both standing on stable ground, he didn't let go. When Y/n tried to push him away, he pulled her impossibly closer.

"Are you insane?" He murmured, his eyes churning like a storm. She didn't answer, still trying to untangle him from her. After a few moments, he let go. She stumbled back, trying to put as much space between them as she could, panting. "That was stupid. You can't throw your life away like that!"

His breathing mirrored hers as his voice echoed around them.

"What do you care about my life? And if you have somehow forgotten, you told me to do that yourself."

"I didn't!"

"Oh you most certainly did."

"When?" His eyes were so wide, Y/n wondered if his eyeballs would fall out.

"The first night."

"I didnt mean it!"

Y/n turned away, not having the energy to argue with him. But of course he was not one to be ignored. He caught her wrist and whipped her around, snarling.

"Didn't you want to talk? Talk. I'm ready to hear."

"Now you're ready to listen? Then answer my question first. Why do you hate me so much?" She didn't want to talk right now, still shaken from her encounter with near death, but she didn't know when he'd be ready to talk again. This could be her only chance, and she would take it.

"Bec–because you ruined my life."

"I ruined your life? Do you think I had any choice in the matter? I didn't ask for this, Azriel."

"I know you didn't, but–"

"But what Azriel? Do you think I didn't try to stop him from taking me to Hewn City that day? How do you think that went?" He was silent, staring at her, so she forged on, laughing. "You say I ruined your life, but atleast you had one. You lived. I didn't Azriel. Everyday I woke up hoping that you would come, and take me away to a better place, just like you told me you would. That was all you ever talked about when we were kids. That you would take me away when we grew up and always be my friend." He flinched at the venom in her voice. "I prayed you weren't dead. Because in that home, Azriel? I didn't live, I existed. My father wouldn't let me live. You left and had most of your life to enjoy, but do you know what I went through in that cauldron forsaken place?"

"You can't blame me for what your father did." There was no bite to his words and they sounded more like a question.

"Oh? And you can blame me for what our fathers did?" He stayed quiet. She continued laughing, tears now streaming down her face. "The suffering I went through everyday was not enough for my father. Almost everyday, he'd taunt and tell at me that I was burden and if you didn't come back, he'd kill me. I had to keep looking over my shoulder to make sure he wasn't going to fulfil that promise."

"You could have left..."

Y/n raised a brow, an incredulous smile on her face. "Do you even want me to answer that?" All the energy that had been in her drained, the venom in her voice now gone. She turned away. "When you don't know what someone's life has been like, don't speak about it like you do." She paused, then asked one last question. "Why did you... bring me back from Rita's?"

"Because you're my wife and you're supposed to be mine..." He sounded so guilty and sad that for a moment Y/n pitied him. He probably loved Elain, and he was now stuck with Y/n.

She turned halfway, looking at him. "If I'm yours, are you supposed to be mine? Because when I saw you and Elain today, it didn't seem like it."

The blood drained from his face as he stared at her. Her brows furrowed. Had the shadow not told him about her presence? She glanced at them where they churned restlessly around him. Feeling something cool caressing her wrist, she glanced down. It was a shadow, slithering against her skin. A corner of her lips lifted as the shadow darted back to its master. She turned away again.

She left him there, planning on going to sleep.

Hoping to never wake up.

•○🌑○•

Taglist: @bubybubsters @maxxieluvs @bubbbllee @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @waytoomanyteenagefeels @tell-me-a-poem @the-lake-is-calling @spaxxxi @japanese-wonderland-blog @valeridarkness @moonlwghts @deadratio @esposadomd @harrystylesfan2686 @missusbarnes-rogers @whatthefuckshappeningrn @hyacinthoideshispanica @historygeekqueen @lizziesfirstwife @nastynesta @aroseinvelaris @nightless @cleverzonkwombatsludge @kodokunarisu-blog @selillusion @eos-princess @moonfawnx @a-court-of-milkandhoney @emilyo-218 @wannabewolf @ailyr92 @chronically-online-cheese @myheartfollower @hells-sluttiest-new-arrival @marina468 @menaosama @starryhiraeth @hereticdance @mali22 @valencia-rou @azrielsstarlight @marvelouslovely-barnes

Part 5

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thatfandomslut · 3 months

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Project Flowers

Gretchen Wieners x Reader

Word Count: 3k - I got very carried away with this one.

Trigger Warnings: insecurity, explicit language, tooth-rotting fluff

Request:

Hello, there! Do you write for Mean Girls? If so, I would like to request a Gretchen Wieners x reader fluff, please? Reader is new to school and has four brothers---the oldest used to date Regina. Regina and the brother, seeing Gretchen's growing crush on the reader, decides to play match-maker. One night, Regina convinces the reader to go with her to a "hang-out" where Gretchen is waiting with flowers.

Mean Girls requests are open.

"North Shore High is all about their cliques, which is why you're so lucky to have us." Lucas pulled on his varsity jacket, fixing his hair in the reflection of his car window. The action made (Y/n) roll her eyes with crossed arms as Michael slung his bag around his shoulders, nodding in agreement. As much as (Y/n) loved her brothers and begged to be able to attend public school, she was being reminded of how conceited and full of themselves her brothers truly were. It was the most amazing but unfortunate experience to have four older brothers while joining a new school where they were high on the social pyramid. "You will have to do a sport though. Maybe you'd like track?"

Daniel gently clapped his back to shut him up before gesturing towards the school. "Ready for your first day, (Y/n)? Sophomore year isn't all that bad. Plus, you're in AP English with James, so you'll at least have someone you know for a period." Daniel offered some comfort. He was the kinder of the four, Lucas being the more narcissistic of them. But she loved them all equally. "I think we all have to same lunch, too. So, hopefully, we'll see you then. Come on, guys, let's leave her be. Let's let her get some experience with normal school and get off her back." He tried to lead her brothers away.

"Don't talk to any of the horny douchebag boys here!" Called out Michael, pointing at her. Some passersby glanced her way, but she shrugged it off. She wasn't planning on talking to any boy if she could help it. If there was anything that her all-girls private school taught her, it was that girls were so much better. Still, she took heed of Michael's warning and attempted to steer clear of all of the boys who looked her over like she was a prize to be one throughout the hallway. Instead, she saw a different familiar face.

Regina George looked just as beautiful as she did when she last saw her. She had powerful red, pouty lips with eyeliner so sharp, it could cut someone. "(Y/n)," her voice cut through the hall, sounding more like a question as everyone stopped to see who she was talking to. Regina was never mean to her, and Regina's breakup with Lucas didn't end messy. Maybe that was because it was a summer fling, though. "I thought you went to North Shore All-Girls Academy?" She approached, two girls following her. One of the girls had dark brown hair with chocolate-colored eyes that had no thought behind them. The other girl, however; caused her breath to hitch in the back of her throat as she made eye contact with her. She had honey-blonde hair that fell in ringlets at the bottom of her hair, and her eyes were a soft amber.

"I wanted to come here with my brothers. It was a regretful idea saying as they want me to hang out with them during lunch." She hummed, a playful smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Regina wasn't one to hug anyone, so when she hugged (Y/n), everyone was caught off guard. (Y/n) hugged back happily as she allowed the blonde to give her a gentle squeeze pulling away. The other two girls behind Regina stared at her due to how out-of-character Regina was being. However, neither of them said nothing. "Plus, since Lucas was too dumb, I don't get to see you as much."

Regina flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder as she began leading (Y/n) and the other girls away from the ogling crowd. (Y/n) was in a state of awe at how popular Regina seemed to be. It threw her off guard in a way. "This is Karen Shetty and Gretchen Wieners," she introduced the two, grabbing the schedule from (Y/n)'s hand. She seemed to be showing her where to go, so (Y/n) didn't protest the snatch. "And don't worry about spending your lunch with your brothers, you can eat with us. This is your homeroom. Your next class is upstairs, turn right, third door." Regina said simply, passing the schedule back before stopping at a classroom. (Y/n) thanked her before entering the class, many other sophomores staring widely at her. She didn't understand why, still not getting the gravity that hanging out with Regina held on the student body.

Around lunchtime, (Y/n) wandered the halls, and headed towards the cafeteria. It wasn't too hard to find. There were too many signs indicating where it was. Before she could enter, Regina, Gretchen, and Karen found her first. "Hello, (Y/n)," Gretchen waved, smiling brightly. The smile caused a slight flutter in (Y/n)'s chest, heat rising to her ears as she waved back. Normally, Regina would comment on not having the first word, but she noticed how flustered both Gretchen and (Y/n) were acting with each other. So, she said nothing as they went to the lunch line. "So, the rules are, you can't wear a tank top two days in a row, you can only wear a ponytail once a week, jeans and track pants can only be worn on Fridays, and on Wednesdays we wear pink. You have to follow these rules, or you're not allowed to sit with us." Gretchen told (Y/n) as she sat beside her. (Y/n) nodded at her words, Regina still eyeing them closely.

"I got you, then. Those rules aren't too hard to follow. Maybe I can get your number so you can remind me to wear pink on Wednesday?" (Y/n) asked, causing Gretchen to clumsily pull out her phone so they could exchange numbers. Regina smirked slightly, realizing how smooth it was (Y/n). After all, she had Regina's number, she could always have asked her to remind her. She had a feeling by all of Gretchen's questions on the way to homeroom, that it was because the girl was interested in her ex's little sister. "Thanks, I'll just text you tonight to make sure I got the rules down, if you don't mind."

Gretchen shook her head kindly, hoping her hair could hide the blush forming on her cheeks. At this final display, Regina stood up, causing Karen, Gretchen, and (Y/n) to look her way. "I'm going to go get cheese fries." She excused herself before finding Lucas and pulling him into the lunch line with her. "Your sister is flirting with my friend," Regina said, causing Lucas's eyes to practically bulge out of his head as he stared at her for a long moment. "I think they'd be cute together. You're going to help me get them together by Spring Fling, at least." Regina stated, and Lucas could only nod. He knew not to defy Regina, he was smarter than that. And that is how Project Flowers commenced. It was an opportunity, that through time would help Gretchen and (Y/n) get together. Because Regina knew them both, and she knew that they were going to need help. Specifically, they needed Regina's help.

Regina allowed herself a few of weeks in order to let the two develop their relationship as friends before dropping hints to the girls that they liked each other, or she would mention different outfits she knew the other would like. "You know Gretchen, that one crop top you wore to the mall when we took Cady shopping, I overheard (Y/n) telling Karen how good you looked in it." Regina would say as she talked to Gretchen. "(Y/n), Gretchen absolutely adores your smile." She would say to (Y/n). But she was getting relentless with the responses of 'Are you sure?' Of course, she was sure. She was never wrong about anything, and she was not wrong about their feelings. Lucas also played his part, telling Gretchen little things that (Y/n) enjoyed. He would also tell (Y/n) about how he and Regina were talking about things Gretchen liked. Which always confused (Y/n) on why they brought Gretchen up, but she ignored this fact and got everything that was mentioned for Gretchen.

She was getting annoyed at all the gushing and blushing that (Y/n) and Gretchen did with each other. Their inadvertent flirting and their obliviousness killed Regina. It almost made her want to throw up in annoyance. But what was worse was the fact that they would do little things, like touch the other's hand, and then they'd pull away from each other quickly. It made Regina want to take their hands and force their fingers to intertwine together. She never thought she'd care about a relationship other then her own until she saw how disgusting in love her friends were getting for each other.

"Here's the plan, Lucas, listen up. I know you have trouble listening, so please put your listening ears on." Regina spoke to him like a child, but he didn't mind. Instead, he just listened to the blonde as he sat at a desk in the empty classroom they were in. Shane was trailing after Regina like a lost puppy but had no clue what was going on. "Tonight, I'm going to talk to Gretchen, and you need to talk to (Y/n). Then, I am going to ask her to hang out, but I am not going to be there. It's going to be Gretchen. Understood? So, somehow find out what kind of flowers she likes. For Gretchen, of course."

Lucas nodded briefly, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Glancing over at Shane, he raised his brows momentarily. "Okay, sounds good." He stood up, getting ready to leave. After all, he was his siblings' ride, and they would get suspicious if he was any later to leave for the car. Still, he stopped before exiting. "Hey, Regina… You doing this for Gretchen and (Y/n)… It's nice to see you have a heart. But, also, just so you know, you deserve love, too. You and I both know Aaron and Shane are phases. Sorry, Shane." Regina narrowed her eyes at him as he smirked playfully before leaving. He knew she could kill him with that stare. However, he knew that Regina deserved love, too, and he saw the way she looked at Cady.

"Where were you?" (Y/n) questioned, still leaning on the car. Her question was directed at Lucas, but her eyes were on Gretchen talking animatedly to Karen in the distance. The ghost of a smile played on her lips and Daniel nudged her shoulder to let her know they were piling in. Since she was the shortest, she was required to sit in the middle so Lucas could see out of the back windshield. Forgetting her question, and forgetting that it never got answered, she got in. A small part of her wanted to look back at Gretchen, but she forced herself to get in and ignore that feeling of want that settled in the pit of her stomach. Especially because she knew Gretchen would never like her that way. Still, she got out her phone to send a quick text to the girl.

As they drove, Lucas looked back at (Y/n) using the mirror, who was still texting. The smile on her face let him know who she was talking to. Then, he remembered he needed to know her favorite flower. The good thing was that (Y/n) was in the social reject group of band nerds. How Regina ever let that slide was beyond Lucas. However, she had a concert that weekend and it was the perfect excuse to ask her what flowers she would like. "Hey, (Y/n), for your band concert this weekend," he got her attention, her eyes flickering up to look at him, even if his eyes were currently on the road. "What kind of flowers would you like us to bring you?" He inquired, delivering a quick glance before looking back at the road.

All of the boys, excluding Lucas, were now looking at (Y/n)- they were very supportive. Still, all of the eyes on her made her nervous. "Well, it's going to sound basic, but my favorite flowers are pink roses. So, I guess, if you all were to bring flowers, I would want those." She answered, hoping this would get their attention off of her. For one of the Plastics, she didn't like all of the attention. Not even from family. But that probably came with being the youngest girl in a family of four older brothers. There was constantly so much attention on her, that it was sometimes suffocating. With that said, when it came to Gretchen's attention, she wanted it. She wanted Gretchen to look at her. She loved it when Gretchen smiled at her. It was like she was Ken in the new Barbie movie.

A text pinged on her phone and she looked down, hoping it was from Gretchen, but instead, she saw it was from Regina. 'Hey, loser <3, meet me at the park at 7,' it read. Typing a quick confirmation, she got ready but before she could, she was stopped by Lucas who had a suspiciously caring smile on her face. She knew a big talk was coming and she dreaded getting elder brother advice from Lucas of all her older brothers.

"I just wanted to talk to you about Gretchen. I know, because I see how you look at her, and how you look at yourself, that you don't feel good enough." He said, causing surprise to grow on her face. How he knew how she was feeling was beyond her. But maybe she sold him out short. Maybe he did pay attention to more than just himself. "You are good enough for Gretchen. You are so kind and caring, (Y/n). And I can see it in Gretchen's face that she sees that in you. You need to go for it. You've got this."

A smile fell on her face as she embraced her brother. "Thank you," she whispered as he hugged back. He left her room as she changed into something more comfortable but still within Plastics standards. As she got ready for the park, she texted Gretchen and asked if she'd be at the park, too. After waiting a few moments, she tried not to pout at the lack of response before grabbing a jacket and making her way over to meet Regina. Maybe it was just a hangout with only Regina. She felt guilty all of a sudden, hoping she didn't make Gretchen feel left out. Then the overthinking came in, and she wondered if she should even go. On the other hand, Regina would be pissed if she didn't make it. Even if she was kinder to (Y/n) than most people, it didn't make her immune to Regina's quips now and again.

Making her way through the park, she was surprised to see Gretchen at the tree. Squinting slightly, (Y/n) could see that she was holding something. Looking around, she noticed that there was no sign of Regina, so she decided to make her way over. "Hey, Gretchen," she greeted, startling the honey-blonde girl. She finally noticed that in Gretchen's hands were her favorite flowers, and she was starting to realize what was going on. She was tricked into coming here to meet Gretchen by Regina and her brother. Her brother wasn't asking about the rose for the concert- though her brothers would still get her flowers. And Regina staged the hangout, and she must've convinced Gretchen to come out here.

"(Y/n), hey! I was waiting for you." Gretchen bit her lip nervously, extending the roses over to (Y/n). (Y/n) blinked before smiling slowly. Looking up at Gretchen with a wide smile, she started to see the confidence starting to circulate in her amber eyes. "I've been wanting to talk to you about something. So, Regina told me to meet you here and to tell you. So I'm going to go for it." Gretchen gave herself a moment, breathing in. (Y/n) wanted to kiss her right then and there, but she also wanted to hear what she wanted to say. "I really like you. You are so caring and kind. You're funny, smart, and creative. You mean everything to me, and I really want to go on a date with you. We could get coffee or boba together. But also, I really want to be your girlfriend."

(Y/n) gently took a step forward, and with one hand (the other was still clutching the flowers), she pulled Gretchen in. The two girls looked at each other for a moment before Gretchen nodded and (Y/n) completed the distance between them. Kissing her deeply, she felt Gretchen's hands cup the back of her neck. Everything felt complete, and (Y/n) had to stop smiling in the kiss. "I really want to be your girlfriend, too, Gretchen." (Y/n) whispered on her lips, causing Gretchen to kiss her again happily.

"About time," Regina said with her arms crossed, standing next to Lucas, who was looking away respectfully. He obviously didn't want to intrude on his little sister's first kiss. "I thought by the time you two got the balls to ask each other out, we'd be in an elderly home," Regina stated with a quick wink, the other two girls red in the face. "I hope you two have a good time at your picnic. Never say I didn't do something for you. Lucas, the basket, let's go."

The words confused the girls until they noticed Lucas holding the picnic basket in his hands, passing it to his sister. (Y/n) smiled shyly, thanking him before Regina and Lucas went their separate ways. Gretchen and (Y/n) laughed for a moment before going through the basket to find a mix of their favorite snacks. Setting up the area, the two stayed out until the night fell, creating their constellation, their hands connecting them like stars in the night sky, (Y/n) looked over at Gretchen, smiling when she turned over, too. (Y/n) noted in her mind that Gretchen was prettier than all the stars before placing a gentle kiss on Gretchen's lips, Gretchen reciprocating gently. Nothing could ever ruin this moment, (Y/n) decided as she pulled away, smiling widely at the girl. Gretchen turned her head once more and (Y/n) did, too, as they continued to stargaze.

#gretchen wieners x reader #gretchen wieners #mean girls x reader #mean girls

210 notes · View notes

asumofwords · 9 months

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The Sublet - Roommate!AU

Warnings: She/her pronouns, slow burn, angst. Tags will be added as the fic goes along.

Pairings: Modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: Living with Helaena Targaryen was one of the best decisions you had ever made. Meeting at university, the two of you became thick as thieves and quickly best friends, moving into a flat together. But what will happen when Helaena has to leave, and her quiet, brooding, brother moves in?

Notes: Hello angels! Here is chapter two of my new mini-series! Was a lot of fun writing this, and am hoping to have a new chapter our every week if possible! I hope you enjoy <3

Chapter 2: Departure

Helaena stood at the door, two large duffel bags in her hands. Her hair was braided back away from her face, something you had begged for her to allow you to do early that morning before her flight. Her violet eyes looked around the apartment before landing back on you.

“I’m going to miss you so much.” She swallowed, eyes looking teary.

You stepped forward, cocking your head as you offered her a small smile, “Hey, hey, hey Miss Waterworks, not yet! We got to get you to the airport first before I let you cry.”

Helaena laughed and you reached out to grab one of her bags, grabbing your keys from the small hallway table dish. Helaena spun and pulled open the door, moving out of it with one bag in hand whilst you followed behind her, pulling the door behind you with a click.

“Is it locked?” She asked, watching as you tugged to make sure.

“Yes, mum.”

Helaena clicked her tongue at you before moving to go down the steps of the apartment. When you arrived at the bottom, you moved across the street to drop her bags into the trunk of your car.

“I’m going to miss our drives in this beast.” She sighed as she got into the front seat, rubbing the dashboard where an array of small, iridescent bug stickers sat, curtesy of the self proclaimed ‘Passenger Princess’.

“Hel, you’re making it sound as though you’re never coming back.” You pulled out of the parking spot and began to drive her to the airport, hand coming out to shuffle through the old 2000’s CD you had put in the stereo.

“Might as well be dead. I love mum, but she’s going to be more wound up than ever, especially with Nyra there.” Helaena leant her head against the window, looking out at the trees you past on the road.

“Well at least Baela and Rhaena will be with you. You haven’t seen your cousins in ages. Plus you’ll have Daeron with you too.” You smiled at her, quickly turning your head away from the wheel.

Helaena smiled back, hand reaching out to turn up the volume of ‘I’m like a Bird’ by Nelly Furtado.

“Yeah, I’m going to invite them to come visit us! Remember last time they came and we went out?”

Your lips pulled back into a grin, “And you got so wasted I had to carry you home on my back?” You snickered.

Your best friend grumbled, “Serves you right for ordering shots.”

You laughed loudly at the memory of Helaena stumbling about the club, singing so loudly that her voice the next day was crackled, and mascara stained her under eyes, "That wasn’t me, that was Bae!”

“Oh yeah.” She giggled.

The drive to the airport went fairly quickly as you sang side by side and talked about everything and nothing, and before you knew it, you were standing at the gate hugging Helaena for dear life as everyone around you boarded the plane.

“I’m going to miss you so much.” She cried, cheeks wet with tears.

“Aw Hel, you big softy. You will be back in no time! Plus we can FaceTime while you’re there.”

Helaena pulled back and wiped her eyes with the back of her hands, nodding at you as she sniffed. You leant forward a pressed a kiss against her forehead, “Now remember to call me if you need anything, okay? I will come if you need me.”

“Okay, I promise.” She readjusted the tiny beetle shaped bag on her shoulder and took a steadying breath, “I gave Aemond your number, so he will probably text you when he gets there, so remember to give him my key.” Helaena gave you a pleading face, “Please be nice to him. I know he can be quiet and standoffish, but he has a good heart. It hasn’t been easy fo-”

You grabbed Helaenas’ shoulders as you smiled at her, “Hel, breathe. I promise to be nice, and it will be totally fine! You just worry about your fam and I will take care of everything else, okay?”

Helaena nodded again before she pulled you in for one last hug. You squeezed her tightly, feeling your heart clench in your throat. You knew it would only be a month, but ever since you had become friends, you had been inseparable.

This would be the longest you would be away from each other.

You watched as Helaena boarded, waving at her as she passed through the gate down to the plane. You had to sniff your own tears back as you watched her silver hair disappear out of sight. Once she was on the plane, you made your way back to the car and drove yourself home, feeling the quiet around you immediately.

Helaena really was a solid rock in your life, and you hoped you were the same for her. She had been there for you through so many life milestones. Buying your first car, your first big break up with your douchebag ex, everything. And you wouldn’t have it any other way than at her side.

When you got back to the apartment, you parked your car and finally checked your phone. There was a text from Helaena saying she had wifi on the plane, and another from an unknown number.

Oh.

You got out of the car, flicking your hair behind your ears as you shut the door behind you, locking the doors with a click of the button. You looked up at the apartment block you and Helaena called home. It was an old art deco building that had been cheap to live in when you and Helaena first moved in, a little run down if you were honest, but beautiful nonetheless.

But now, the apartments were stupidly expensive, and yet your Landlord hadn’t once increased your rent. You wondered if it was because they knew who Helaena’s family was, old money and new, and one of the biggest and best lawyer firms in all of Westeros. But really, the Targaryens had their toes in many fields.

They owned vineyards that stretched over thousands of acres of their ancestral lands, realestate, restaurants, you name it. They owned something of worth, and their name held power.

You remembered when you first went to inspect the apartment. It was decently sized with tall ceilings, some of the paint was peeling, but once you and Helaena had moved in, you spent the first weekend painting the walls together. But the thing that had drawn you to it the most was the bath. It was hard to find an apartment in the city with one, and considering that the block was so old, it even still had the original tub and penny tiling floors.

You walked up the stairs, as you opened Helaena’s messages.

When you got to the top of the landing, Aemond was already there, waiting.

The silver haired man was leaning against the door boredly, looking down at his phone, a silver strand of hair falling over his eye. At the sound of your approach he straightened his posture and looked at you.

You had forgotten how tall he was. The Targaryen towered over you.

It had been a while since the last time you had seen him, and his hair was considerably longer, hair tucked behind his ears. His violet eye watched you as you gave him a small smile, the other clouded eye, unmoving.

“Hey.” You greeted, standing in front of him, fingers gripping the strap of your bag, unsure of whether to shake his hand or offer him a hug.

It felt awkward.

“Hi.” He responded quietly, eye searching your face.

Aemond wore black jeans and tight black top that stretched across his chest. Around his neck, hidden behind his shirt, was a small silver chain that dipped beneath. You remembered he had been wearing it the last time you saw him, Helaena said something about Valyrian steel? You couldn’t remember, but it was something that he clearly never took off. The smell of leather and smoke curled around the both of you as you looked down at his toned arms, a black leather jacket slung over one.

It was in that moment, as you took him in, that you realised something.

Aemond was handsome.

Gods, how had you forgotten he was handsome?

“You going to let me in?” He asked, tone flat.

You felt heat rise in your cheeks, your hand with the keys flicking up as you moved to open the door to the apartment. Aemond barely moved an inch to allow you to reach the door, and you had to utter a small ‘excuse me’ to him so he would shift and give you space.

You felt his eye on you as you opened the door and stepped through the apartment, Aemond bending down behind you to pick up a faded, green duffel bag that he had left on the floor while waiting for you.

“Welcome.” You smiled backwards at him, dropping your keys into their dish and fishing out Helaena’s from your pocket, “These are yours.”

Aemond grasped the keys, large keychains attached to them from grazing across the palm of your hand. They looked comical in his, what with all her keychains; bright blue butterflies, shining green and pink dragonflies, and a long pendant with your name beaded on it hanging from the tips of his fingers. Helaena and you had made them for each other on one of your infamous craft nights in.

Aemond nodded at you in thanks.

You moved through the apartment as he followed behind quietly, his height looming over you making you feel incredibly small.

“So,” You turned around looking at your roommates brother, “You’ll be in Helaena’s room.”

“Mm.”

Oh Gods, here we go.

“Um,” You looked around the lounge room trying to diffuse the sudden tension, “Did you need anything?”

“No.” He answered looking down at you, bag still in hand, "Thank you.”

“Right, well, Helaena’s room is on the left. Let me know if you need anything.”

Aemond nodded and walked down the hall, his large black boots beating against the wooden floor boards. You watched as he continued his way down to her room, opening the door and stepping inside. The door shut behind him with a soft click, and you let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding in.

Your phone buzzed in your hand and you looked down at it. You quickly typed a response to her back.

You huffed a laugh and went to sit in your room, putting away the pile of laundry that sat unfolded on the bed.

Aemond didn’t leave the room or make a sound after he went inside. He was as quiet as a mouse, just as you had remembered he was last time, and you felt that the next month would be spent with him existing in her room and you existing around him. It would most likely be awkward, though you didn’t mind, at least he wasn’t Aegon.

Aegon was nice, but he was also a sleaze. Trying to get into everyone and anyones pants. Even after you had told him you weren’t interested, he continued to flirt with you boldly, immediately giving you the fatal ick.

However, there was one thing you couldn’t deny about the Targaryens.

They were all stunningly attractive.

They all had the same piercing, violet eyes that only people of Valyrian decent had, as well as their shimmering silver, white hair. They were like sirens, luring anyone into their trap, and you had almost fallen for Aegon’s until he opened his mouth.

As the afternoon faded away and the night soon crept in, you reheated some of the pasta sauce that Helaena had made, adding a singular portion to the saucepan until you remembered that her brother was also here, and had not emerged from her room at all. Not to eat or got to the bathroom, or even get a glass of water. So with that thought, and the echoing ‘be nice’ in the back of your mind, you added a second portion to the saucepan and began to heat it up.

You put another pot of water in the sink and filled it with water to boil on the stove, putting some music on shuffle with your phone, and as you waited for it all to cook, you unloaded the dishwasher.

‘Freak’ by Lana Del Rey played loudly out of the speakers as you moved the cups and dishes back into the cupboard, the water on the stove coming to a boil. You put in the pasta and stirred the sauce a bit, adding some spoons of the pasta water into the sauce pan, just as your grandma had taught you.

“Baby if you wanna leave, come to California, be a freak like me too." You sang quietly, grabbing two bowls and forks for the both of you.

As you watched the water boil, the pasta cooking inside, you thought of what the next month was going to look like.

You wondered how Aemond would react if Cregan came over.

Would it be awkward?

You shook your head, it was your house, and Aemond was a grown man. You were sure that he wouldn’t mind.

And if he did, tough titties.

When the pasta was cooked, you strained it, separating it into the two bowls and pouring the sauce over the top. The smell of Helaena’s amazing sauce filling the space around you, making your mouth water.

“What are you making?” Aemond’s voice came from behind you, startling you.

“Gods be good.” You breathed, hand readjusting its grip on the saucepan as you scraped the last of bolognese into one of the bowls, “Bolognese, got a bowl here for you if you’re hungry. Helaena made it.”

Aemond moved from behind you, and as you turned to look at him, you noted that he was just in his jeans and shirt, shoes long gone. Thats how he had crept up on you. That or you were lost in your own world. You picked up the second bowl and moved to hand it to him.

As your eyes moved towards his face, you noticed that Aemond had tied his hair away from his face in a low bun and you felt your breath catch in your chest as he looked at you.

Oh.

“Thanks.” He grabbed the bowl and moved towards the dining table, steps silent as he crossed the room.

“No problem. Do you want a drink?” You asked across the room, opening the fridge, pulling out a soft drink for yourself.

“I’m okay, thanks.”

“Water?”

A pause.

“Sure.”

You filled up a glass of water for him and moved towards the table, placing it in front of him on a coaster. Aemond sat with his hands in his lap, not beginning to eat yet, like he was waiting for you to sit down. Perhaps he was waiting for you. Helaena had told you that their mum was rather strict with etiquette and traditions, and you likened that this was a lesson from her.

You went back to grab your drink and pasta before sitting opposite him.

“You know,” You began, hoping to break the tense air around you, “You don’t have to eat at the table, we can sit on the couch if you want. Or you can eat in Hel’s room if that’s better for you.”

“Hm.” Aemond hummed, not easing your worries, before twisting his fork into the pasta, bringing it up to his lips to blow.

You ate in silence together.

It wasn’t uncomfortable in a way that you didn’t like each other, or that there was any bad blood, you just did not know anything about him, and he knew nothing about you. And he barely spoke. But beside that, Aemond was perfectly polite, if not a little stiff.

You thought that perhaps picking a random stranger from the train and bringing them home to have dinner would make for more easier conversation and be less awkward.

“Helaena cooked it,” You explained, trying to fill the room with something other than the sound of clinking cutlery, “Not me. I think it was to save us both cooking.” You laughed, twisting another forkful of pasta for yourself, you felt a great urge to get to know him a bit, after all you would be living together for a month, “Hel told me you’re thinking of moving back to Kings Landing.”

Aemond placed his fork back into the bowl, “I am.”

Short. Stiff.

No wriggle room.

No ‘yes, and’.

“Do you know where you would stay? Probably close to family right?”

Aemond was quiet, and you felt like you had stepped over a line. You suddenly remembered his strained relationship with everyone but his mother, but even then, that was somewhat difficult, or so Helaena had told you. You opened your mouth to apologise, but Aemond responded.

“Most likely. Might go back to uni and finish my degree.”

You blinked at him, “Oh? I didn’t know you were studying?”

“I was. But I deferred when I moved to Harrenhal.“ Aemond paused, staring at your face blankly. It made you wriggle in your seat, “I think it would be good to finish it.”

“I think it would be.” You agreed, “I’ve only got a year left until I graduate. God, I can’t wait until it’s over.” You smiled at him, having finished your dinner, “What were you studying?”

Aemond’s lips pursed as he looked at you, as though he would rather be talking about anything else, or more likely, not speaking at all, “I was doing a double degree. History and Philosophy, majoring in Politics.”

Your eyes widened in shock, “Oh damn. A double degree? How the hell did you manage that?”

One degree was hard enough, you couldn’t imagine juggling two.

Aemond let out a humourless huff, “What are you studying?”

You leant back in your chair, stretching your arms above your head sighing, “Similar to you, History, but I’m doing a little side Poetry class which I’m enjoying.”

Aemond hummed, “Poetry?”

“Yup.” You popped the p, suddenly feeling as though you were being interrogated in your own house. It set you on edge.

“Favourite poet?” Aemond asked, the question catching you off guard completely.

You blinked, thinking for a moment before you answered him, “Kafka.”

“Kafka?” Aemond replied, brows lifted, “A romantic.”

You cocked your head as you looked at him, “Kafka is a lot more than just a romantic. I think it would be disingenuous to put his work into a box.”

A smirk wound on Aemond’s lips as he hummed, the first time you had ever seen the man give something that wasn’t a frown or pout, and you felt your heart race in your chest.

“You’re right. Just was not expecting you to be a Kafka girl.”

Now you were offended, “What, did you think I would be more of a Sylvia Plath?”

“Nothing wrong with Sylvia Plath.”

“I know that.” You snipped, “Let me guess, you’re an Edgar Allen Poe.” You pointed at his all black apparel.

Aemond let out a sharp huff.

“Emily Dickinson.” He answered, lips pursed again. The way he was watching you, it looked like he was sizing you up.

You hated it.

“Hm. Favourite work?” You pressed, arms crossed across your chest as you looked at him.

You couldn’t tell if he was making fun of you or not.

“‘A great Hope fell.’”

You were surprised once again, “That’s not beating the Edgar Allen Poe allegations.” You paused in thought, tilting your head as you thought of the piece.

“‘A not admitting of the wound, Until it grew so wide, That all my Life had entered it, And there were troughs beside.’” You recounted a paragraph, feeling as though you had one-upped him for even knowing it, but in truth you had recently studied Emily in your Poetry class, and her work was fresh in your mind.

You wouldn’t tell him that though.

Aemond blinked at you with one eye, not showing at all that he was impressed that you knew his favourite poem off by heart, or even slightly surprised, which made you want to hit him over the head with your fork.

Dick.

“They are both amazing in their own right.” He stated as he stood, pulling his empty bowl towards him before he collected yours.

You thanked him, watching as Aemond moved to the kitchen and began to stack the bowls into the dishwasher without being asked.

Maybe those manners from Alicent weren't bad after all.

“Do you know where the linen closet is?” You called across the room.

Aemond nodded.

“Okay, I have work tomorrow so I won’t be home. You have your keys?”

Another nod.

“I’m going to watch some tv. Do you want to join?”

Aemond turned around and walked back towards you, “I’m going to bed.”

Your mouth felt dry, and a blanket of embarrassment curled around you.

“Ah, no worries.” So much for trying to make this easier, “Well, goodnight.” You gave him a curt smile and moved towards the couch, not waiting for his response as you got comfortable, turning on the telly to put your favourite show on to binge.

“Night.” Came Aemond’s smooth timbre from behind you, and not long after you heard the soft click of his door.

You grabbed your phone and checked to see that you had some new messages. The first from Helaena, she had sent you a photo of her in a car, having landed in Old Town, followed by five consecutive messages.

You smiled at your screen, typing back a response that there was no murder yet.

Yet.

You hoped that it wouldn’t come to that. But with Aemond’s quietness, and even the subtle stubborn and self assured manner that he carried himself with, you felt that perhaps things may come to a head one way or another.

Helaena had said the two of you were more alike than you know, but you just couldn’t see it. He was so quiet, and you weren’t. He was brooding, and you were forthcoming. He was a dick, and you were not.

Most of the time.

Flicking back to your notifications you spotted another message, finger tapping it to open.

It was Cregan.

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