#the last time i passed out was from period pain years ago

[smolvenger]

The Baronet Seeks A Wife, Chapter One.

A Crimson Peak Multi-Part Fanfiction.

Thomas Sharpe x fem! Reader Arranged Marriage AU.

Summary: England in the 1890s. When your spirited sister, Charlotte, defies your family by running away from her arranged engagement to Sir Thomas Sharpe, you are the one who must keep your family from scandal and ruin...by taking her place as the baronet's bride.

Word Count: >7K words. You may want tea and scones as a repast as you read this.

Warnings: Angst, some hurt/comfort, and fluff at the end. I attempt to convey the period as accurately as I can bc if you don't like it or find it interesting why write it. Period accurate attitudes of gender and social class. Mentions and discussions of sex, but no smut (yet...let me just say...after Bridgerton season 3 episode four...I have *ideas* heheheheh). Brief mention of childbirth. The fear of domestic violence is mentioned, but not portrayed. Grammar and spelling mistakes. If I miss something and you see something that could be triggering that I didn't mention, then it is your responsibility to please please please tell me. I will take full accountability for how I portray marginalized groups and sensitive subject matter and make sure to better my writing and make sure affected parties are protected.

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr @jijilaufeyson @steasstuff @anukulee @kimi01985 @goblingirlsarah @foxherder @giona45-5 @goddessgirl43

London, 1898.

“I won’t marry him!” your sister cried.

You have seen this scene plenty of times. You could recount it like a play production you had seen too much. You were sitting in the parlor, trying to read a book and rest your feet. But your mother and your older sister, Lottie, were on each other’s last nerves.

‘Lottie, you have to!” your mother insisted.

You found you couldn’t focus on the words. You only sat there in stillness, watching in silence. A maid walked by the door, her eyes flicking over to the scene, but then she kept walking down the hallway.

Your mother pressed a hand to her forehead and sighed as if in pain. 

Your older sister, Charlotte, was curling her fists on her side. The red dress, the new one father ordered for her at the shop, only made her seem angrier. She was literally burning with the fire of fury.

Mama let out a huff. Then she glared at Charlotte, her arms akimbo.

“Listen to me. Right. Now.” your mother began.

You felt bad for your mother. There was a lot on her mind. To have both daughters out in society at one time. They agreed it wasn’t fair for one daughter to go about having fun when the other couldn’t. Charlotte was older, so she was more experienced in being out in society. She made her debut it seemed ages ago. You recalled your own debut. You had your turn to wear white and curtsy before the queen before she dismissed you for the next girl. You were already beaming with excitement. Ready to enter the glittering, grown-up world of the London social season. Prepared to dine and dance in pretty dresses every April until August.

But every year, it seemed the bags under Charlotte’s eyes increased. Now years had passed since then. And mam still had two daughters who were still out. And unmarried.

Charlotte dreaded going from your country home to London for the warmer months.She hated the constant balls, parties, meals, picnics. She at least liked riding her horse in Hyde Park but loathed she couldn’t go faster. She would sneak out to smoke cigars. Bugs and reptiles fascinated her more than gossip. She scribbled down notes. She turned prickly if any man asked for a dance. She spoke boldly and even swore. She enjoyed the horse races and polo games and sports, but the art of feminine flirting was beyond her.

But your parents had plenty of money and two daughters. But only so much money could support so many seasons. And as the eldest, the pressure was on Charlotte. There was the occasional brave soul who proposed marriage to her. Only to face the inevitable, flat rejection.

So Mama and Papa took matters into their own hands.

Mama met enough people who networked her to cross paths with a single baronet. They porposed a marriage between him and Charlotte, to which he agreed. Your sister was engaged after a mere three meetings with the fellow. Not that you had a chance to meet him either. So no rejection. No proposal. A ring on Lottie’s finger forcibly placed on her like a child force-fed turnips to her mouth.

“Lottie, do you know how much that dress costs? The very one on your back? Every season, your father and I make sure you and your sister have new gowns so you may be presentable in public. That is what they demand- that eligible ladies always dress in fresh new clothes. So any gentleman will not scoff at you wearing yesterday’s rag. You may not like it- but this is for your future. For your family’s future.  May I remind you- You are the eldest. You must make a good match not only for your sake- but your sister’s future. If you marry well-then she will be set up to succeed. There are plenty of decent men with more than enough money to make you comfortable here. Every year, they ask to dance with you. Every year, at least one proposes. And every year, you say no. ”

Charlotte huffed, folding her arms.

‘I didn’t want to marry them. Any of them. I wouldn’t make them happy and they wound’t make me happy at all.”

Your mother glared down.

“You have had more than enough chances to secure yourself forever. Do you want to live at the mercy of your father’s charity all of your days? If he cut you off this minute and threw you out of the house, you would have nowhere to go, and no way to survive. Lottie, do you realize how many seasons you have had? Do you realize how much we must pay more and more for you both to be presentable when you are out? Do you realize how much this is costing us and yourself?” she scolded.

She caught her breath. Charlotte was breathing hard, and you could see glimmers of tears in her eyes. Mama stepped closer.

“Charlotte…you’re no figure of pity. Not yet. You have had plenty of chances- they still call you the Wild Rose of London. Your face won over dukes, earls-so many girls would have loved to be in your shoes!” she said softly.

Mama was right. Charlotte was considered the beauty of the family. When she made her debut, heads turned to look at her. Everyone, you included, thought she would make a match easily. After all, your father was in charge of a great business that made a lot of money. You were now part of the upper crust. So a pretty face, a decent family reptutation and a sizable dowry with her bold, vivacious character would have won someone’s heart. And in a way they did. The first man who proposed to Charlotte you thought was going to be like shooting a sitting duck.

Even though “spinsterhood” did nothing to dampen  your sister’s face,you were all proven wrong. Very, very wrong. 

Lottie slouched as much as she could in her gown and frowned. A habit she never abandoned as a child.

“Your father had to take action. You will be a part of the esteemed Sharpe baronacy and he will reap the monetary benefits. He is a nice man, pleasant, charming, and he will take care of-”

“So am I nothing more than a thing you auction off at a bazaar? Not a person with a heart? With feelings?” Lottie combated.

“We were going to be driven at this rate to ill repute, and financial ruin all because you wouldn’t marry!” your mother argued.

“Then why not let me wear an old dress?” Lottie shot back. “Or have me not do a season! Let me remain a spinster and paddle my own canoe!” 

“Sir Sharpe will take care of you. He promised it!” Mama assured.

“Being stuffy old Lady Sharpe and wasting my life in balls and parties is going to drive me to insanity! An arranged marriage- mama, it’s practically medieval!” Lottie shouted.

Your mother folded her hands.

“Your father has set it in stone. There is no point in this conversation. You are going to marry Sir Thomas Sharpe, and that is final!”

Your sister jumped up. She stormed off, slamming the door shut childishly as she huffed off to her room.

Your mother turned to you. You sat in your own blue tea gown, not expecting company. For a night of no events in the London season was a special treat. All of the picnics, lunch parties, park trips, operas, theatre, and balls were fun- but back to back, it was exhausting. But hearing your mother and sister yell at each other was ten times worse than the exhaustion. 

You stood up.

“Am I….a bad mother?” she asked. You saw tears in her eyes too.

You put a hand on her shoulder, a fine, matronly gown of dark green brocade. You offered her a handkerchief. 

“I only think you are a desperate mother put into a difficult situation.”

“She won’t listen to me. Much less your father…she only listens to you anymore. I hate we must do this…and I hate myself,” she sniffled. 

You patted her shoulder.

“Mama, let me speak with her. Let me help patch things up. Make her happy,” you offered.

She nodded. You exited the library, walking up the stairs to Lottie’s bedroom. The odd servant paused in their dusting to curtsy at you. You wold give them a nod and a smile, before you continued. Walking past vases of daffodils and over velvet rugs, you found the door locked shut. Crying coming from inside.

You knocked on the door.

“Go away, papa!” she fussed.

“Lottie, it’s not papa, it’s me!” you assured her.

Your sister went over and opened the door, letting you in and shutting it after you entered. With it’s wine red wallpaper, the place seemed to be dark as the sun was dipping outside. Her desk empty of any papers and her hat set on top. Her colllections of newspapers piled on one chair near her parasol. The drawer where she hid her cigars was kept with a lock and a key she dared not tell even you.

“Lottie…I’m so sorry you have to do this, and how miserable it makes you…it sounds like a nightmare,” you admitted.

You could see tears streaming down her face.

“Do you remember when I was eleven and asked mama and papa for a pet snake? They know how much I love snakes- they’d give me little toy snakes. I wanted a real one. I’d call her Cleopatra for the irony of it. But they said no. Every year I asked and they kept saying no.would always say no. They try….but they can’t love me, or understand me. And I keep trying to please them…and I keep failing and now…they’re throwing…”

She sat on the bed and began to cry. And you hugged her.

“Here….here…” you said. “My poor girl, my poor Lottie!” you cooed. 

“I want to go places. Have adventures and jolly, capital times.  I want to run, and explore and see things! Not be stuffy old Lady Sharpe in some stupid house having babies until I’m killed from it!” she mourned.

She shoved aside her journal and laid down on her bed. Tears streaming her face.

“It’s what you deserve…Lottie. A life like that! But now,  we need to think of what we can do and not what we can’t do,” you suggested.

You paused, thinking for a second. You leaned closer as she turned away. A gentle hand on her side.

“Sir Sharpe…you’ve met him, haven’t you? What is he like?” you asked.

“He talks about his stupid inventions all day,” she muttered from her side. “And he won’t answer anything about what his dead sister was like or what was in that old mansion.”

There were only three things you knew about Sir Sharpe as of this morning. He was a baronet. He grew up in a mansion called Allerdale Hall. He lost an older sister. But that was it. Now thanks to Lottie, the sum rallied up to four.

You leaned closer, more mischief in your voice. You hushed to a whisper.

“What does he even look like? Perhaps he’s at least handsome! Maybe at least…on your wedding night…” 

Lottie turned over, wrinkling her nose. 

“I’m sorry, YN, but he’s ugly! He has a big forehead, and big ears, and a big old nose!” she cried. Her voice far too loud for the question you asked.

She grabbed her pillow and hugged it around her.

“Don’t get me started on my marital duties. I could retch at the thought of it. If Sir Sharpe even thinks of going to bed with me, I’ll box his big ears off!” she decalred.

Part of you couldn’t help but laugh a little. Even Lottie’s own pretty, pink mouth was curved up in a small smile at her own words.

“Practice on that pillow!” you dared.

She hit the pillow again and again.

“This I’ll give Sir Sharpe and -this! I’ll give Sir Sharpe!”

She reached over and got her parasol and gave it a few more good whacks. Feathers were starting to burst out from it and litter the floor.

“Heavens, at this rate you’d have killed him!” you commented. 

“He would have earned it!” she replied.

‘“Then you’ll be a criminal and I’d have to bail you out of prison!” you replied.

“Oh no! Then I guess we must be outlaws and run off and live like Robin Hood and the rest! Better than listening to Mrs. Mean drone on about governesses!”

Both of you burst into laughter. The Means lived up to their name and every reception they found a new group of people to complain about. You both heard it all and had to silently look at each other to promise to only laugh at them when it was done.

You both laughed, smilng bright. How you missed the easy days of your younger years. You could play about and get in and out of trouble. You and your sister knew where to strike to hurt each other, but couldn’t live without the other. You fought as intensely as you played. You did everything side by side. You took her hand and hugged her again, even though she was still sniffling.

Lottie sagged her shoulders. Her hold on the pillow loosening.

“But…I’m unhappy. I wake up every day with this and I’m miserable. Like I can’t get out.” she sighed.

“Think of this….” you reasoned. “I hear husbands are easier to manage and persuade then fathers! Once you have money and you’re not under their thumb, you can go about as you want and do what you want! Idon’t think Sir Sharpe would stop you….”

You paused. A horrified shiver ran through you.

“Not that I…know much about him. Do you think he….did he ever…ever…hurt you?” you asked.

She shook her head.

“No, he hasn’t been less than gentlemanly. And he wouldn’t hurt me in any way after we’re married, I’m sure.” she replied.

You both sat on the bed and held hands.

“Then don’t be afraid, Lottie…maybe marriage isn’t a prison, but your key to freedom! Once you’re a married woman, you can do whatever you want and Sir Sharpe won’t stop you. And if he does anything, tell me. And I’ll box his ears!” you replied.

Lottie’s tears were drying in trails down her cheeks. Yet she smiled in spite of herself. Then you hugged one last time.

“I should ring for some cakes and mint tea from Anne! That will cheer you up!” you said.

As you rang the bell for them. Anne, one of your maids, hurried up. She took the order and promptly left. She returned with a tray in only ten minutes. You both relaxed on chairs as the tray balanced on a mahogany table.

Turning, you saw Lottie write about in her journal.

“Oh, croissants! My favorites,” Lottie cooed. She picked up one and began to dig in.

“I’m just glad you have thing that make you happy…I just want you to be happy, Lottie,” you said.

The pastry returned to her plate.

“And…YN…”

Her mouth opened as if to speak. Then she stopped. She reached over and held your cheek. Studying you carefully, as if you were a piece of art. A work she could only admire in person once before she had to leave. Something she had to commit to memory. There was a sad smile on her face.

There was a sad smile on her face.

“I want you to be happy too…”

She kissed your forehead and you smiled. As she helped herself to a big slice of strawberry cake. Her eyes were tired, crinkly.

“I think Lady Charlotte Sharpe has a ring to it. Like the heroine of a book!” you said.

Charlotte turned to face the window. The sun melting down and the sky promising night.

“But this isn’t a book, this is reality…” she responded.

She looked at you and then at the ring on her finger. The engagement ring already commissioned. Costly and pretty, but useless and ominous on Lottie’s hand.

“I think you would have liked him...” she said.

“Sir Sharpe will be nice to have as a brother,” you replied.

She looked at you. But said nothing as she nibbled on her croissant. As the tray was partially emptied, you excused yourself. But Lottie caught your arm. You saw her lip quiver. She leaned closer, her voice quiet. And Lottie was not a person who liked to be quiet. 

“I’ll always remember that your words. That we must do what we can and not dwell on what we can’t. Thank you, Y/N. Thank you for the tea, too.”

By dinner time, she was quiet. She dressed nicely and ate modestly. Then went to bed without a word to you.  As you went back up to change for bed. How unlike her! Your sister was chattiest at night! But you but shrugged it off. She was probably just exhausted. London’s balls lasted from night until six in the morning and you would be lying if you said they didn’t take a toll on you too. And you would need some rest if there were to be callers, a garden party, and maybe a horse ride in the park  the next day.

❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖ ❁

When you awoke the next morning, the sunlight streamed like melten butter into your room. Outside, it was another lovely day in May. People were already tittering about the Ascot opening later this month.

Your maid helped you into your day outfit of a white lace skirt and a blue skirt with flowers patterned with silk. You only hoped Lottie had improved. Before breakfast, you would check.

You knocked on her door.

“Lottie! Good morning!”

No reply.

“The chef is making us bacon! It’s going to be delicious!”

No response. 

You beat your fists against the door.

Nothing. And she was a light sleeper.

“Lottie?” you called out louder.

You realized the door was unlocked and opened easily.

She was gone. Servants followed you inside. Her bed wasn’t made, there was no sign of her.

“Is she in the garden? Is she riding in Hyde park this early? ” you asked Anne. But the maid shook her head.

Then, to your shock, you saw there was a piece of paper on it. And a ring. Coming closer, you saw it was her engagement ring.

You felt the world pause as you read her handwriting.

“Hello everyone,

You need not fear, for I am not hurt or seduced by some scoundrel.

I cannot be Sir Sharpe’s wife.

I love all of you. But I cannot do this. This is not what I want for my life.

I shall be safe, do not worry.

But do not try to reach me for some time.

All of my love.

Charlotte Y/L/N.”

Breath knocked out of you. You stood frozen. You hardly heard your parents rushing in. You didn’t feel your father snatching the letter from your hands. Looking down, they were still in the air and shaking.

Your mother began to sob.

All of your plans were canceled. A private detective was hired and Charlotte’s lady’s maid was fired for permitting this. Though the sobbing maid insisted she didn’t know where Charlotte went. All day long, people scurried about in a panic. 

You felt tears well up in your own eyes. Alone in your room, it was your turn to burst into crying.  It was already as if your dear sister was already dead.

You recalled the letter said she was unharmed. She wasn’t about to be left pregnant with some scoundrel’s bastard. She hadn’t…taken her own life and for her to return only as a corpse. As far as you knew, no news meant she was alive and safe. That would have destroyed you. Taking hope in that, you went back to put on a brave face to your family.

There was the odd caller in the afternoon. But their noses were upturned. Knowing they would report anything and everything. The slight smiles on their faces as they looked about made you want to scream.

Why didn’t Charlotte think about this? The next day, your grief boiled to a silent rage. By running off and vanishing, it meant there was a scandal. And now society would all turn their faces away from you. They would frown and whisper and gossip. The unvirtuous daughter who ran off. And no one would want to go to your parties or dinners. No one would want to see you or associate with you. And no man would ever want to marry you, knowing you were the sister of the runaway spinster of a disgraced family.

That last part pained you. Not that you knew from Charlotte there was shame in being a spinster. But…you hoped to fall in love. Not just to marry a man of stability, to meet a wonderful, nice man who made your heart patter fast. To be kissed and receive valentines and dance and have him drop to his knees, begging for you. Just like in the fictional books you loved. 

But the days dragged by. The detective returned after a week and shook his head. And the hope for anything good in your future seemed more and more like a fiction itself.

❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖ ❁

You paced about in the gardens one afternoon. It was better to do something with your anxious energy. Two weeks and no sign where Lottie vanished. You sat by, hoping the coolness of the breeze drifting through flowers would calm you. But not even the loveliness of an English June could distract you.

Anne stepped forward and curtsied.

“Pardon me, Miss. But your father wants to have a word with you in private,” she announced.

She led you up, taking you to Papa’s study. It was a room in dark green, his favorite color. A few books lined up the walls and his desk was placed behind the window. Your father was staring outside when he turned around as you were brought in.

“Ah, sit down, my dear,” he requested.

You obeyed. Sitting on the wooden chair before his desk. Your father brought out a decanter of brandy and poured himself some in a little glass. You noticed it was a generous amount. Not that you would blame him.

He poured himself a second glass and offered it to you.

“I have some news with you, Y/N…” he began.

“Have they found her?” you asked with hope.

“No. And that is exactly why I have to tell you this…”

If there was no update, then what could it be? You wondered. You took the cup and held it in your hands. A little hesitant to drink it yet since it was still so bright in the day.  It didn’t feel right to drink such a spirit so early to you. Something was brewing- you just had to let him say it. 

“The engagement between your sister and Sir Sharpe it was…it is still and shall be beneficial. To us and to the Baronet. We must be respected by all sorts of society through connection to the baronacy. He needed the money- his own little toys wouldn’t be enough to sustain a gentleman’s life. And with Charlotte’s disappearance- you understand why we don’t have as many visitors as we do?”

“It’s a scandal, papa, I know.” you replied.

“But…we must return to society. We cannot show up defeated. We cannot let them beat us. We cannot become a laughingstock or a figure of pity.”

Where was he going with this? You held your tongue and folded your hands. The drink carefully balanced over your lap. He was only repeating everything you already knew.

“There is one way out that solves all our problems. Especially if at this point, Charlotte isn’t to be found…”

“We can’t give up on finding her, on making sure she is safe!” you insisted.

“We have more immediate matters..” he continued.

You raised the glass to your lips, taking only a sip. It burned down your throat onto your churning stomach. Your father looked directly into your eyes.

“ I have one daughter left who is out. But YN, I don’t think there are many gentleman who will want to associate with a ruined family. No gentleman will consider you marriage…But…”

“But?” you prompted.

“But there is one gentleman who doesn’t think so…” he continued.

“Who?” you asked. You put both hands over your cup.

Papa looked directly into your eyes.

“Sir Sharpe.”

Your throat tightened. Part of your vision went dizzy. You began to piece together where this was leading. Nausea gripped your insides as your hold on the glass turned into a grip.

“He knows he needs our money and to be back into society. We still need the respect of his title…and we have a daughter left who must be taken care of…”

You found yourself hyperventilating. Words choked out of you.

“Am I…am I…”

“YN, you are going to marry Sir Sharpe in your sister’s place this coming month.” he announced flatly.

A sound came out of you. You put a hand over your mouth. You now knew what Lottie felt. Your whole body went tight. You had to catch your breath. How glad you were to be sitting, for your legs were already shaking bad and your vision was spinning. You looked down at the floor, trying to pull yourself together. Your father kept talking.

“Now, I know this isn’t pleasant. Especially for a romantic such as yourself. I know you have yet to be formally introduced to him. But, Y/N, my dear- we have to be practical about these matters. There is no respectable solution to this problem at this point, if Charlotte is to not return.”

He was right. As twisted as this was, was there another option? 

Who would want to associate with a family who couldn’t keep an eye on their eldest? Who would want to invite a family who let their daughter run away to their breakfast party? Who would want to court the sister of the woman who ran off from her own marriage? Who would want to marry the daughter of disgraced family? 

The more you thought about it, the more you realized there were few options. You were now too socially stained to marry anyone. Your days would be spent alone. Sitting in your house as others lived their lives happy and free, laughing at you behind closed doors.

Your family had no other options out. 

A marriage to a man who belonged to a knighted family would earn you respect. It would be telling society that at least one man from a respectable house saw worth in you. You would still go to events not as a figure of pity and ridicule, but as one of them- even ranking above them.

You didn’t want to be a figure of ridicule. Someone who everyone would smugly turn. Whispering to each other “how glad I am that I’m not her!”

You had to marry. And marry well.

You would never be proposed to at this point. There would be no courtship. No dances. No poetry. No marriage proposals. No valentines. No love letters. No Passion. No balls. No laughter.

But there was never going to be a proposal like this.

No future. No safety. Nothing if you denied your father or refused him or rebelled as Lottie did.

You would just be tied and tethered to a ruined family all of your days. But becoming Lady Sharpe would free you from that. You could start anew. Spring again like a wild tiger breaking out of its cage to bear her claws.

And this was your only chance.

“Yes, papa. It will be an honor.” you replied. You would do your duty, as all daughters must.

Father walked out from behind, abandoning his drink. He put a hand on your shoulder and then pulled you for a hug.

“There’s my brave girl,” he said.

He released the hug.

“Alright, Sir Sharpe is going to visit at dinner tomorrow. And my associates at work will be there too, to celebrate. That way, you will have a formal introdution and you won’t be walking down the aisle to a complete stranger.”

You felt your fists grab your skirt. With your free hand, you grabbed your cup of brandy and downed it in one gulp. The burning ran through your body, and you prayed it would calm your racing mind.

“Do I need to wear my nicest dress?” you asked. You at least didn’t want Sir Sharpe to think he was settling from the society beauty. Downgraded from the Wild Rose to her frump sister.

“Considering he has already said yes to this arrangement, I doubt wearing your ugliest dress will do anything to about the matter,” replied your father.

❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖ ❁

Anne dressed you in a cream dinner dress of country silk and velvet. Your sleeves puffed like clouds. there was lace as a “belt” around your waist. The bottom showed an underskirt that was a color between light brown and pink. Anne had hair like yours, and knew how to style it as you liked. Your dress almost white in the light. Already you were going to meet Thomas looking like a bride.

The grandfather clock in the hall chimed seven o clock. You thought you would sweat through your dress. Part of you was tempted to lock the door and not step a foot out the whole night. But you knew you could not delay the meeting anymore. At this rate, you would just meet him on your wedding day. You just had to get it over with.

Besides, you were going to spend the rest of your life with him until only death or divorce did you part. You were just holding back the inevitable. 

“You look beautiful, miss,” she gushed as she looked at you.

“I wish I was as pretty as Lottie, sometimes. Or as brave as her…” you lamented quietly.

“Don’t compare yourself to her, miss. You know she has her own sufferings. And it will only make you more unhappy.” Anne advised, giving you a pearl necklace. She attached it to you from behind. 

 Both of you looked at your reflection in the mirror. Anne leaned in closer with an encouraging smile. “Just think of all this like armor to a battle, Miss Y/N. You can’t give up the fight, yet.”

I can be brave, like Lottie. I can fight, like she can. You thought. How could you be as stupid as to forget your own advice to her not long ago? You would do your best to find the way to make it a good situation. Manipulate your position and standing to your favor, even. For that was what women always did. For being the “weaker sex”, they always found a way through to survive. So what made you think you would just cry and pity yourself all of your days?

You reminded yourself of this. Still you felt heart racing hard as if the gallows was what awaited you next month and not the altar. Holding your head high, like a queen in her palace, you walked out of your room and downstairs.

A few women had shown up in the foyer. They eyed you greedily but you would not give them a figure to be pitied. You kept a stoic face as they offered a few tepid congratulations. But you felt so buzzed with anxiety, you only half heard.

“We’re so happy you found a husband,” said one.

Husband- husband! A husband! A fiancee! How was it that it happened already? And with no romantic proposal in a moonlit garden away from a ball. Just in an office that smelled of whiskey with your father relaying that you were now engaged. And your husband- no, you weren’t married yet, no need to panic now. Though you saw no men around, you knew that your fiancee was under this roof. 

You didn’t feel ready. You felt like you were just an adolescent playing dress up and not a grown adult. 

“Ah! There you are, YN!” your father greeted as he walked over, dressed in his evening tuxedo. He offered his arm.

“He’s in the library, sharing a drink with the other men. I think it’s time I introduce you both,” he announced.

Swallowing, you took his arm. The one thing keeping you afloat in the ocean of turmoil raging inside you.

Papa walked you over to the library. Your heart picked up as if you were running. In just a few short seconds, you would see the man you were bound to for the rest of your life. Your mind was itself running at a hundred miles a second and you felt yourself shaking like a leaf.

Father turned to the door and your fears screamed inside of you.

You dreaded what your sister said. Her voice ringing in your ears bemoaning Thomas’s apparent ugliness.

“He has a big forehead and big ears and a big old nose!”

He was ugly. You had to settle for that. But what made you were frightened was that perhaps he was a bad person. Perhaps he would hurt you, betray you, break you even.

Wait…didn’t Lottie say herself he wouldn’t treat her in that way? But…you weren’t Lottie! He could act completely differently…

No…you were forming an entire judgement on someone you hadn’t even met!

But, even if he wasn’t handsome…perhaps he would be a nice man. Men didn’t have to be handsome to be good. They could be kind, respectful, patient, gentle, genuinely kind husbands.

So which one was he? A kind, pure soul? Or an irredeemale monster?

Both? In between? Neither? There was only one way to find out. And the answer was standing with the other men beyond that wall.

You took in a deep breath, your father opened the door.

The dark green, musty library already smelled of cigars. Lottie would have loved it. There was a bit of laughter, as their smoke floated to the air. Cups of whiskey was passed and there was talk of this and that issue in Parliment. So many men in black suits like a horde clamored around, as if each one was copied from the other.

Your father cleared his throat.

“Gentlemen, may I introduce to you my daughter, Miss Y/L/N.”

Once, it was Lottie who was “Miss Y/L/N” and you just went by Miss and your first name after. But now that she was gone, you were promoted up. You were Miss Y/L/N and the family’s fortune and future were already on you like a yoke you had to drag across the field.

“It appears that for one of you, you are about to be a very lucky man next month…” your father continued.

One by ones, heads turned to see you. Some in curiosity. Some in boredom. Some in hunger seeing your neckline. You were already making guesses as to who your fiancee was with each passing face. Already one man had a curled mustache. Another had grey hair with busy sideburns. Another round spectacles and short brown hair with a mousy face. Most of them were wrinkled, lined with grey, with a gruffness to their demenaer.

“Sir Sharpe,” your father announced, turning his head.

Your eyes followed at once. That is him- you thought. That  is him! That is him, that is him, thatishimthatishimthatishim-

An old man patted a hand on the shoulder of another. The younger had hair had longer, dark curls He was so deep in conversation with someone that he almost forgot. The grandfather nudged him. The younger figure paused.

“Thomas! I believe your lady is here.”

Then he turned around. 

Thomas Sharpe was the handsomest man you had ever seen. 

The breath you had was knocked out again as you took him in. What on earth was Lottie thinking? Looking at him, you began to question her taste and strength of vision.

Thomas was a tall man with a hair full of raven curls. Slender, but not thin for he had a broad chest. Soft blue eyes that only contrasted with his dark hair and a face the color of porcelain. You now understood the fairy tale of Snow White and why she was the fairest in all the land. For the male equivalent was here before you. He had high cheekbones and large hands. He looked like the hero of a Bronte novel, but one if the author confirmed his handsomeness rather than his ugliness. 

He looked into your eyes and he smiled at you. Butterflies fluttered around your stomach and you could feel your eyes widening.

Your father gestured at him and he walked over.

“Sir Sharpe, this is my daughter.Your fiancee.” your father announced.

“Miss, I am glad to finally be acquainted with you. You look beautiful, tonight,” Sir Sharpe greeted. 

He raised your hand to his lips and looked right into your eyes as kissed your hand. A gasp could not even escape your throat. Something was stirring beneath you when his lips touched your gloved hand. You felt a sensation you dared not name in the most private part of you. 

Finally, steeling yourself back to the earth, you remembered basic etiquette.

“Thank you, Sir Sharpe. I am glad to make your acquaintance as well,” you replied with a curtsy.

Sir Sharpe sat across from you at dinner. You hardly said a word unless someone asked you something. 

You couldn’t believe this. You couldn’t believe him. You somehow found your appetite again and ate. But you felt self conscious with each bite. Thomas was watching you- what was he seeing? Would he judge you? You moved even more carefully and properly as you could.

 Every time your eyes met,  Every time he looked at you, a heat rushed through your whole body and your eyes would return demurely back to your plate or the napkin on your lap. When he smiled at you, you felt as if you could die. You had to remember your feet was touching the ground as you wiggled your toes in your pointed shoes.. 

He spoke poliely when asked to, but mainly listened. There was polite talk about the weather or the Ascot opening race. Thomas would ask you about what you thought and you found your replies were timid. You didn’t want to make a wrong move, you didn’t want him to hate you, you didn’t want-

Then your father stood up, raising a glass.

“Now, everyone,” he declared. “Let us have a toast. To Sir Sharpe, the delightful Baronet who I have the honor to call my son in law not long from now. And to the marriage of my beloved, dutiful daughter-”

You found yourself looking down. Dutiful, dutiful. This was why you were here. Lottie was not dutiful and broke everything. But now here you were to fix it all. For everyone’s sakes, including yours. It would have be you thrown to face the unknown of marriage to this unknown aristocrat. Yes, he was handsome. But he was still a stranger.

“Cheers!” toasted your father.

Everyone replied with cheers as they clinked glasses. Thomas gave you another smile and clinked yours. You felt yourself become timid. His looks, his smiles, and you were acting no better than an loony adolescent.

Thomas delayed going to after-dinner sips of brandy with the other men. He remained in the parlor with the women sipping on coffee and went to you. He led you over to a corner away from nosy mamas. He spoke lowly, for you to hear.

“How are you, Miss Y/L/N?” he asked.

“If I must be entirely honest, I am afraid,” you confessed.

His eyes softened at you. They were the color of a spring sky. You had never seen eyes as blue as his.

“YN, I know this is sudden. And I’m shocked as you are. But…”

He offered his hand and you took it. Your glove over his skin. Then he placed his other over yours, and already you found yourself chilled comparing his large hand to your own. To feeling that one bit of touch. For now you were almost married, and to touch was permitted.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me…I will try to make you happy, with everything I can.” he promised.

“Nothing will happen to me. You won’t hurt me. And you won’t let anyone hurt me, will you?” you asked.

A shadow of sadness passed over his face.

“No. I won’t.”

#crimson peak #crimson peak fanfiction #thomas sharpe #thomas sharpe x you #thomas sharpe x reader #thomas sharpe x y/n #thomas sharpe x fem! reader #thomas sharpe x fem! y/n #tom hiddleston characters #angst with a happy ending #fanfiction #tom my beloved #tom hiddleston #thomas sharpe imagine #crimson peak multi part #crimson peak fanfic #crimson peak imagine #thomas sharpe x female!reader

[dummerjan]

i just passed out from stress

#just rambling ignore me #a bit confused a tad scared but mostly exhausted #the last time i passed out was from period pain years ago #but i've never passed out from stress #so far i have only gotten dizzy and managed to sit down before anything happened #this time i felt cornered overwhelmed was having two separate phone calls and didn't know how to navigate that #i hadn't eaten and the air has been horribly humid for days and my dog having been dead for less than 48 hours probably did the rest #and i have like half a dozen things to reply to of varying importance and i feel so bad for not being able to and it's just piling up #luckily my mother was on the phone with me #my father picked me up and now i am at my parents' where it is awfully dog-less #now i am one of those pitiful creatures who have to go through life without a dog by their side #meins

[evie-sturns]

period - 𝗖𝗵𝗿𝗶𝘀 𝗦𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗼𝗹𝗼

summary: you unexpectedly get your period after spending the night with chris, he does everything he can to make you feel better.

contains: mentions of blood, fluff, crying, swearing.

----------------┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐------------———

chris and i have been dating for almost two months, i sleep over at his house often though, including last night.

9:46am

i'm rudely awakened by frantic tapping on my shoulder, i rub my eyes and roll over where i'm met with chris's distraught face. "hm..?" i groan out.

"y/n, are you okay" chris rambles, his vision flicks between my eyes and the matress.

"what..?" i mumble, my vision is still partially blurred from the sudden wake up.

"you're bleeding" chris says quietly, swallowing harshly.

i sit up, the matress is dotted with blood, along with the small pyjama set i wore last night.

my period has always been irregular, ever since i was about 12. i'd never know when it would come but i would just deal with it when it did.

my stomach sinks, my cheeks instantly flush from embarrassment, this is the kind of thing thats meant to happen 2 years into your relationship, not 2 months.

my eyes start to burn, im already an emotional person but now that this has just happened i don't think i can physically be okay.

"im so sorry chris." i say, my voice breaking.

chris clears his throat, i can tell he's slightly awkward about this.

the silence in the room grows, but is quickly cut short by a sob coming from me. chris's head snaps round to look at me, "oh fuck-.. no its okay!"

he gets out of bed, without a second thought he leans over the matress and picks me up in a bridal position. he speed walks to the bathroom, "look at me." chris says calmly as i cry into his shoulder, i tilt my head up and lock eyes with him. "don't cry sweetheart, it doesn't matter to me."

i nod with a sniffle, he places me down on two feet. "you wanna get in the bath?" chris says gently.

"yeah.." i say, my voice still wobbling.

i stand still with my hands by my side vulnerably. "you want me to.." chris whispers, keeping his eyes locked on mine. "if you dont mind.." i reply.

he reaches his hand out and peels my tank top off of my body, along with my shorts. he does it so nonchalantly its impressive.

chris has only seen me naked once, which was only a week or so ago after our first hookup.

he flicks the bath on, putting his finger under the stream to check the temperature before lifting me up and placing me down.

chris bends over and picks up the pyjamas, before leaving the bathroom, closing the door behind him. i throw my head back as soon as he goes "how did this happen." i groan to myself.

-

about 10 minutes has passed, the whole time i've just been trying to calm myself, crying about this isn't gonna make it any less embarrassing for me.

my head snaps to the side as i hear 2 soft knocks on the wooden door, "come in" i say with a forced smile, chris peeks his head round the corner with a sympathetic look. hes got a freshly folded pair of sweatpants and a hoodie in his arms, which he places down on the sink. "you okay?" he asks casually, sitting down on the side of the tub.

"i mean, i'm okay as i can be right now!" i smile warmly up at chris,

he reaches into his pocket and clears his throat "i found this downstairs, i think one of nick's friends left it here-..uh" chris murmmers, pulling a tampon out of his pocket.

"thank you chris, honestly i'm sorry about being a pain." i sigh, chris shakes his head "no you're good, promise."

"just gonna go make the bed, yeah?" chris sits up off the tub and walks out of the bathroom.

-

after getting myself together i open the door to the bedroom, chris is sitting on the bed, laying the pillows out strategically. i feel like a kid thats just thrown up, staring at my parent who just had to bathe me and clean the sheets.

he stands up and runs over to me full force, grabbing me around my waist and picking me up, earning a high pitched squeal from me. "chris!!" i screech as he flops down on the bed with me still in his arms.

"what can i actually do to repay you." i whisper into chris's chest.

"give me some awesome head next week."

"christopher."

----------------┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐------------———

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris x reader #chris sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagine

[wwinterwitch]

right person, all the wrong times - anthony bridgerton

summary: you and anthony have been in love with one another from the moment you met, but it seems as though nothing will ever happen between you. after you catch the attention of another gentleman, he realizes perhaps it's time to finally do something about his feelings pairing: anthony bridgerton x fem!reader word count: 7.3K tags: mutual pining, best friends to lovers, angst and fluff, period-typical topics (marriage is everything, gender roles, all that stuff), daphne being match maker as always, kissing, it gets briefly suggestive like once, if i skipped anything please let me know. note: i started this show two days ago and i'm already halfway through season 2. i couldn't hold myself from writing whatever this is and i thought i'll share since it's the longest fic i've ever written. english is not my first language so writing in a way that resembles the show was a whole challenge for me!

a reblog and/or comment really helps me out as a content creator so thank you in advance if you take the time to do either!

all masterlists | buy me a coffee

You and Anthony have been best friends for years now. Even when he's a few years older than you, the two of you became inseparable shortly after knowing one another. No one seems to know or understand you quite like he does, and you've become the person he always turns to when he needs someone.

It happened just a few months after you were introduced into society. You were lucky to bump into him that night in Ms. Danbury's ballroom, and after repeated apologies and quick introductions, you stayed with him for the rest of the event.

Your families were excited to see the two of you talking, already picturing the moment when he shows up to your house and asks for your hand in marriage. However, as time passed, it was evident for everyone that nothing was ever going to happen.

And as embarrassing as it is to admit, you were just as disappointed to realize Anthony considered you to be just a friend. From day one, you were absolutely captivated by him, and you truly thought he was as interested as you were. Unfortunately, it seems as though your feelings have never been –and never will be– reciprocated.

Of course, you never let that stop you from trying to find in others what you so effortlessly found in Anthony from the moment you laid eyes on him. It hasn't been easy, but you continue to look for that special someone.

Despite everyone knowing about your proximity to the Viscount, a fair share of suitors were always there available for you. Some move past the mere privilege of dancing with you if they prove to be interesting enough, but none of them have made it far enough.

Perhaps the search would be easier if you weren't deeply in love with your best friend, but there's no way you'll ever be able to control how you feel. You can't control the butterflies in your stomach when you notice him approaching you, or how it seems as though everyone around disappears when you two are together.

Anthony doesn't contribute to making your situation any easier. His friendship is one of the greatest gifts you've ever received, but it has caused you a great deal of pain and confusion. Even when he's nothing but your friend– even when he has confided in you many times that marriage is the last thing on his mind, you can't help but notice certain things. Certain gestures, certain stares...he has surely given you reasons to believe your feelings might be reciprocated.

One of the many things he does that inevitably lifts your hopes up is the fact that he absolutely despises every possible suitor you've ever had. Whether he claims to know them and they're the worst person imaginable, or he starts speculating based on his own prejudices, it seems as though no man is worthy of you in Anthony's eyes. You've always wondered why he's so adamant about that claim.

"There you are!" Daphne excitedly greeted you one evening at yet another social gathering. "I was afraid I'd miss the chance to spend even a moment with you tonight, considering how busy you seem to be with all your suitors," she smiles, quickly glancing across the room.

"Well, I could say the same thing. I've seen you dance for most of the night," you remark. "I bet your brother is furious."

"Oh, believe me, he is! But I'm not the only one he's concerned about," her smile only grows after her insinuation. It's no secret that Daphne has always hoped for you to officially join their family, as she's convinced her brother is ridiculously in love with you. "I was only able to escape from him because he couldn't stop telling Benedict just how awful the men you were dancing or talking to are."

"He does have that habit, yes. Poor Benedict," you joke, turning around to spot the two brothers still talking.

Before Daphne could say a thing, a man approached the two of you. As you laid eyes on him, you recognized him as the first gentleman you had a dance with tonight. Both of you smiled at him as he extended his hand your way. "May I have another dance with you, my lady?"

You look at Daphne, who quickly takes a step back to let you know you can go. He gently grabs your hand once you've accepted his invitation, guiding you to the dance floor.

Mr. Demrick is a fine gentleman. He's been nothing but kind, charming and attentive, not to mention he's ridiculously handsome. This isn't the first evening you two have crossed paths, having the honor of dancing a few times before. He seems to have a strong interest in you. Your Mama has expressed many times that it's a matter of time before he's asking for your hand.

You do, however, notice a big flaw in this seemingly perfect man. He's no Anthony Bridgerton.

And speaking of, as you're dancing with Mr. Demrick's hand on your back and the other gently holding one of your own, you can't help but notice Anthony exactly where he once was. He's already looking your way and even from a distance you notice he's as stiff as ever, arms crossed, muttering things to Benedict.

It leaves you to wonder once again if he's being protective over his friend or if there's a deeper meaning to his apparent disgust for all the men that have ever shown interest in you.

After that night, Mr. Demrick's interest in you was more evident than ever. All Daphne could talk about with Lady Bridgerton and your Mama during supper the next day was the different bouquet of flowers he sent you and how breathtakingly beautiful they were.

"Needless to say, I'm very happy for you," Daphne seems to be finished with her talk about the flowers, turning to look at you from across the table. "You two make a very lovely match."

"No doubt you'll be very happy with such a nice and handsome gentleman for a husband," Lady Bridgerton agrees.

Everyone quickly turns to look at Anthony when he lets out a quick chuckle, looking down at his food and pretending he was barely listening.

"Something wrong, Anthony?" Lady Bridgerton asks shortly after with a rather serious tone.

He finally looks up, smiling at his mother. "Not at all. Please, continue with your...delightful chat."

You glared at him and despite you trying to ignore it, something deep within you made it impossible not to say something else regarding Mr. Demrick just to upset Anthony further. "He has invited my family to a picnic to meet his own," you say, noticing the way your best friend immediately turns to look at you with a horrified expression.

"We're really looking forward to that," your mother chimes in, trying to keep the conversation going after Anthony's interruption.

"Cheers to that!" Eloise exclaimed ironically, and you noticed she was looking directly at her eldest brother. "A man brave enough to pursue the heart of a lady is always a reason to celebrate, right?"

Now it was Colin and Benedict the ones who couldn't hold back their laughter after noticing their brother's reaction to that comment.

"What's so funny?" Hyacinth asks, looking impossibly confused.

Eloise's comment evidently made everything a lot worse. Little Gregory joins his sister in their inquiry to know what was going on, until Lady Bridgerton ordered them to stay quiet.

You didn't like El's insinuation one bit, as it does nothing to help with your delusions, but at least you were appreciative of the fact that she was willing to be with you on this one despite her disgust towards the whole idea of marriage and the position a woman is put in because of it. Perhaps she's willing to overlook that detail for the sake of upsetting one of her siblings.

As soon as dinner was over, Anthony offered to accompany you and your mother outside to your carriage. You didn't protest, and quickly calmed Daphne and Lady Bridgertons worries after they started apologizing fervently for his behavior during the evening.

Anthony immediately knew you were upset. It was evident in the way you walked in complete silence without acknowledging he was there next to you.

"Can I have a word with you before you leave?" Anthony asks as soon as the three of you are outside the Bridgerton home.

"Is it okay? If you're too tired we can leave right away."

"It's perfectly fine, dear. I'll wait in the carriage," your Mama replies. "Thank you, Lord Bridgerton, but there's no need," she quickly added when Anthony offered his arm to help her walk down the steps of the entrance. "Please reiterate my gratitude to my dear Violet for having us today."

"Of course," he nodded, returning your Mama's smile. Even when he behaves rather poorly, your mother absolutely adores him. It warms your heart to see how good they get along.

Your Mama walks to the carriage, leaving you and Anthony alone. "I apologize for my behavior tonight."

"I don't think your apologies are sincere."

"I don't know what else do you expect, if I'm being honest," he replies, and immediately knows he has to say something because of your reaction to that comment. "That man is not a good match for you. He's not on your level, and I'm quite certain that he won't be able to make you happy."

"How could you possibly know that?"

"Because I know you. And I know when someone is not right for you."

You scoffed. "No one ever seems to be good enough for me."

Anthony nodded. "Yes, exactly."

"Can't you just be happy for me? Or at least pretend that you are?" you ask, exasperated. It's one thing that he doesn't reciprocate your feelings, but to stand here and claim to be your best friend when he acts like this is something entirely different. Something you can't and won't stand for. "I don't understand why you have to try to ruin every chance I get to find someone."

"Because," he says sternly, as if it was obvious. But is it really that obvious? Is it obvious to you, or even to him?

A dim light of hope shines through in the depths of your heart, knowing very well how dangerous that has been in the past. "Because what?"

He stood there in front of you, looking rather troubled. You notice the way he hesitates and for a moment you almost could've sworn he wanted to take a step closer to you.

But that never happened, and instead all you got was a "because you're my best friend, and I care about you," from him. The same thing you've heard over and over. That godforsaken phrase that has shattered your heart into million pieces over the years.

You try to hide your disappointment, looking up at him with a stern glance. "If I'm truly your best friend, you'd support my decisions instead of brutally questioning them like you always do."

With that said, you didn't wait for any sort of answer as you quickly walked towards your carriage, barely acknowledging your driver and your mother as you headed back home.

Anthony watches as you walk away, once again feeling like a complete fool for not saying something else. For not daring to take that extra step and reveal the real reason why he won't accept anyone else as your husband. It's quite simple, really. The real reason is that he wants to be the one you marry.

But he didn't say anything yet again, and all that's left for him to do is go back inside his house to listen to Eloise and Daphne calling him a fool while the rest agree with them. He doesn't say much about their claims, as they couldn't possibly be more true.

This is exactly what he deserves for acting so cowardly. He gets shamed by his siblings for not doing something about his feelings while you go home, probably thinking about that absurd picnic with Mr. Demrick until you go to sleep.

Next day, you try to forget all about Anthony Bridgerton and focus on your date with Mr. Demrick. Your families were sitting around all together while he asked if you would like to take a walk with him.

He's lovely. Offering his arm for you, complimenting you every chance he gets, making you laugh with his endless anecdotes and quick remarks. He's everything you should need, yet your mind wanders back to your best friend. You can't help it. All you want is for him to be the one kissing your hand and telling you you're the most captivating sight of all.

Your Mama could barely hold her excitement when she read what Lady Whistledown had to say about you and Mr. Demrick after the families were seen spending time together. "The union of the season", she called it. And it shouldn't come as a surprise, as both of you come from wealthy and respected families. It's evident everyone takes a great interest in the possible union.

Still, you were very much intimidated by it, as all eyes will be on you until there's news about an engagement.

And just as you predicted, every lady turned to look at you as you went to visit the modist for a new dress for the next ball. You must look absolutely perfect to earn the approval of everyone and capture Mr. Demrick's heart for good.

At that point, the realization finally started to settle. You're soon becoming a wife, moving to your own home and starting a family. And all of that with a man that you respect and care for, but are incapable of loving.

But perhaps this arrangement will make your feelings for Anthony become nothing but a memory. A memory you won't even care to think about when you have such a wonderful husband by your side.

Days passed and Mr. Demrick continued to send all sorts of gifts to your house. You made the choice of inviting him over so the two of you could spend more time together before the next ball. He was sitting on a couch with your mother while you played the piano for them.

"That was certainly a very beautiful performance," he says once you're done playing. "And you said you composed that yourself?"

"Indeed. I like spending my days playing the piano," you smile brightly.

The entire reunion was quickly ruined when someone burst inside the room. You turn around in your seat to find Anthony standing there, barging in completely unannounced and unexpectedly. It was unclear to you why you felt the need to stand up from your seat to greet him but you did, feeling your heart rapidly beating in your chest at the sight of him.

Oh, how badly you've missed him.

"What are you doing here, Anthony?" you ask, immediately remembering your soon-to-be fiancée and your mother are also in the room. "I'm afraid I'm with a guest right now. Whatever it is, it'll have to wait, my lord."

You never call him that, ever. It was evident by his reaction that he absolutely hated the fact that you refer to him as such.

"My apologies. I didn't mean to disrupt, but I believe it's an urgent matter."

"My lord, I–"

"I must insist," he quickly cuts you off, looking rather desperate.

You try to come up with something to say, knowing you should stand your ground and make him leave, but you were so happy to be in his presence again that the feelings completely clouded your judgment.

"No worries, my lady," you hear Mr. Demrick say, standing up from his seat and sending you a reassuring smile. "I'm sure whatever Lord Bridgerton is here for requires your immediate attention, given his insistence," he added shortly after, giving Anthony a not so friendly look. "I'm sure we can visit the gardens while we wait?"

Your mother nodded after his question. "Of course. That should be more than enough time for Lord Bridgerton to communicate his urgent matter."

Neither Mr. Demrick nor your mother were pleased by Anthony's presence, but you couldn't thank them enough from sparing you this one time. You know this man like no one else does, and you're certain that he wouldn't take a no for an answer and that would've made the situation a lot worse.

"Perfect," Mr. Demrick says before gesturing for your mother to lead the way. Before he leaves the room, he gives Anthony one last look before turning his attention back to you. "Perhaps we should discuss where you'd like your new piano to be in our future home once I'm back. I'd love for my wife to continue doing what she enjoys, especially when she's so extraordinary at it."

You smile after his comment, trying your best not to look at Anthony until Mr. Demrick is officially gone because you can imagine his features are clearly expressing his thoughts regarding that last comment. Once both of them are out of sight, you finally look at him.

"What is wrong with you?" you snapped almost immediately. "I'm glad Mr. Demrick is a patient and understanding man! He could've easily decided to leave the very instant you walked through that door demanding to have a word with me."

"I think he's captivated enough, my dear. I doubt you'll ever get rid of him," he replies, evidently disgusted by the thought of him.

"I don't intend to get rid of him. And do not call me that again."

"Why not? I've always called you that."

"That was before I met Mr. Demrick. Now, it is completely inappropriate."

"Oh, please. It's not like you're already his wife."

"But I will be soon," you point out. He's quiet after that, which gives you room to continue talking. "You must understand that a married woman cannot have other men calling her such things."

"So am I supposed to start addressing you like you're nothing but a stranger? Or perhaps you'd like me to already start calling you Mrs. Demrick? Is that how things will go? You marry this insufferable man and I have to just accept the fact that I no longer have my best friend?"

"I don't know what else you want me to say," you mutter, feeling like you could cry any minute now. "This was going to happen sooner or later."

"It was never supposed to be this way," he sighs, and your soul aches for him when you notice the way he's looking at you. Defeated, exhausted, disappointed, frustrated. You've never seen this particular mixture of emotions reflected in his eyes before.

"And how exactly it was supposed to be?"

Anthony was quiet, too quiet for your liking. You see his hesitation once again and you brace yourself to hear yet another confirmation of the fact that you're nothing but a friend. It doesn't matter that he glances at you from across the room like he can't help himself. It doesn't matter that all the Bridgerton siblings have made insinuations about you and Anthony's relationship. It's all in your head, because you're nothing but a friend.

In a surprising turn of events, you watch as he takes a few steps closer to you. He's cautious of every move, not wanting to scare you– or himself. The beat of your heart speeds up and your hands shake slightly when he's finally in front of you.

You look up at him like a deer coming face to face with a hunter, but in this case you're unable to run away for your life. He's dangerously close to you, gently moving his hand up to touch your face.

The second his fingers brush against your cheek, a shiver travels down your spine and you can't help but close your eyes because his touch is absolutely heavenly. Your breath hitches in the back of your throat when his digits trace down your neck until his hand settles there, holding you with his fingers behind your ear and his thumb still caressing the skin of your face.

"It should go like this," he whispers, and you finally open your eyes to see him looking at you with such adoration, you were certain your legs could betray you any second now and completely give in, causing you to fall straight to the ground.

He leans slightly closer after seconds of just contemplating you, and even though you closed your eyes again, feeling his nose brushing against yours, you're able to snap out of your trance before he could actually kiss you.

"It's not right..." you're able to say, pulling back from him but not nearly enough. He's still very much holding you.

"It is, my dear. I can tell you wish for this as badly as I do."

"Please, Anthony..." you try, but your body betrays you when your hand is resting on his bicep.

"I've always adored the way my name sounds when it's you the one calling me," he confesses, and your stomach fills with butterflies.

You realize he's leaning closer again, but before he can do so you manage to gather all traces of self-control that were almost stripped from you to move back, setting free of his touch.

Anthony stands there, absolutely confused and heartbroken, and is right then when you can't keep your tears in any longer.

"I'm afraid it is too late," you mutter. This has got to be the most painful thing you'll ever have to do. "I'm getting engaged soon."

"But you're not anyone's yet. There's still time if you haven't accepted any proposals."

"Please, don't make this any harder than it should be," you sob, wiping your tears away.

"Darling–"

"Believe me, no one would want this more than me," you interrupted. "You have no idea how many times I've found myself fantasizing about this very moment. For you to say all of this, to be yours forever..." Tears continue to roll down your cheeks and the sight is too much for Anthony to endure, as his own eyes are starting to fill with tears as well. "But it is not possible anymore. I'm sorry, I really am. I won't ask you to understand or accept my decision, but I'd appreciate that you can at least respect it."

"I won't. I refuse to let you marry someone else when we both know we belong together."

"Anthony, Mr. Demrick–"

"You still can't even call your future husband by his own name?"

You sigh, frustrated. "Charlie will become my husband. I don't doubt that he'll be an excellent companion, and that you'll find someone else in time. Soon enough, we'll be nothing but a memory."

"Is that really what you want?" he asks, and your heart sinks when you notice his voice breaking slightly.

You take a few seconds to answer. Of course that's not what you want. You want Anthony to be your husband. You'll always want him and him only. But it's already too late for any of that.

Feeling more heartbroken than ever before, you have to look back at Anthony and fight the urge to run to his arms. "Yes. And I also want you to leave."

Anthony was barely keeping it together, not wanting to cry in front of you. He's once again taking a few steps closer to you, but stops at a reasonable distance to grab your hand to kiss it. "Very well, my lady," he says with a quick bow of his head. "I apologize for wasting so much of your time. Let me assure you, I'll never bother you again."

He let your hand go and immediately turned to the door to leave. As soon as you no longer hear his footsteps, you fall to your knees and allow yourself to cry, feeling like the sorrows from this conversation will haunt you for the rest of your days.

Knowing Mr. Demrick and your mother could be here any minute, you decided to stand up from the ground as soon as you could to lock yourself in your room, where you could be away from everyone for a while until you feel ready to go downstairs and pretend you're content with this life that you've chosen for yourself today.

You really know you shouldn't, as you've played a part just as big as his in the downfall of everything you could've had together, but you can't help it as you curse Anthony for taking so long. You curse him for deciding to do something about his affection for you when it's far too late. And most importantly, you curse him because despite knowing it's over, you are certain that there's nothing you can do to ever get over your feelings for him.

As soon as you realize you're being unfair by putting all the blame on him, you also curse yourself for being as blind and coward as he was. And you curse life itself while you're at it, because you feel like making everyone and everything responsible for not being able to live the life that you wanted.

―

It's been a few days after the last time you and Anthony spoke. Just days, but it has felt like years and years without him. He hasn't reached out to you, and you couldn't deny that not having him around was absolute torture. There was no greater pain than this.

But you were hopeful that you could see him again at tonight's ball. It was all you could think about as you were getting ready.

"You look lovely, sister," the youngest of your family says, watching as one of the maids is finishing with your hair. "I can't wait to join all of you next season!"

"Thank you, my dearest," you smile at her. "I cannot wait for that either. Perhaps I can help you choose your dress and do your hair for your first ball."

"Yes, please!"

Your youngest sister stayed in your room with you until it was time for everyone to leave. Your father waited by the door while your mother put all of your siblings in line to check their appearance and make sure everyone was looking flawless.

Like the Bridgertons, your family was also quite large. Your older sister is already married so she no longer lives with you, but your parents still have a handful of children to take care of. Your two older brothers haven't married yet and neither have you. There's also your little sister, who's debuting next season, and your baby brother who's barely ten years old.

To this day, you have no idea how they were able to handle the chaos that six children can bring. For that, you admire them deeply.

Once your mother made sure everything was in order, you and your brothers followed her and your father to the carriage. They start a conversation, but you're barely paying any attention, as Anthony is keeping your head occupied again.

Eventually, you reach the residence where the ball's taking place and the five of you make your way inside. As all of you are standing outside the doors of the hall where the event is taking place, you feel a hand reaching out to grab yours. You turn around to look at your mother staring at you with a sympathetic smile.

"I'm so sorry, Mama," you say out of nowhere, though it's practically the only thing you've been able to say to her lately.

"You made the right choice, dear," she reassures you. "Are you ready?"

You nod, inhaling deeply before your mother lets go of you, standing with your father as they wait for you to take the first step. As soon as all of you are entering the room, you notice everyone staring your way, their eyes still filled with expectancy and excitement.

They still believe you're going to marry Mr. Demrick.

You quickly scan the room as you walk down the stairs, the familiar feeling in your stomach appearing when you spot Anthony along with his siblings, his eyes never once leaving you. Despite everything that has happened, he still looks at you like you're the only person in that room.

Your parents go off one way to mingle with other parents attending the event while your siblings scatter around the ballroom to greet their friends and find possible matches.

Having a chance to talk to Anthony was the only reason you decided to attend. Still, you didn't know how and when it'd be okay for you to approach him. Things didn't end on the best of terms, so it's normal for you to have your doubts.

Instead of immediately approaching him, you walk around the room, never losing sight of him. You couldn't help but smile to yourself the first time you catch him looking around the room, unsuccessful to locate you.

"I was hoping to see you tonight," you hear Daphne's voice next to you, sending you back to reality. "You look as beautiful as ever."

"Thank you, so do you."

Your friend smiles at you, briefly looking to where you previously were. "Are you looking for someone?"

"No, not at all," you immediately shake your head, imitating her smile.

"I apologize for what I'm about to say. I don't believe it is the time nor place, but I cannot hold myself back," she says with obvious concern as her smile is replaced with a frown. "My brother told me everything that happened the other day. I don't think I'll ever be able to express how sorry I am."

"Oh, Daphne, that's really not necessary..."

"But I think it is. As ashamed as this makes me, I'm afraid I was the one responsible for his actions."

"What do you mean?"

"I couldn't help but notice the way you two look at each other, or the way you smile when you're together. Believe me, I've never seen my dear brother so infatuated with anyone else before. To see you slip away from him and him doing nothing about it was not only painful, but it angered me enough to intervene," she explains. "After much convincing to do, I finally made him realize he needed to do something about his feelings. Evidently, I stood out of line and got myself involved in something I never should have, and for that I'm terribly sorry."

"You didn't do anything wrong. I know you had good intentions. There's absolutely nothing to forgive."

Daphne reaches out for your hands, relief evident in her features. "I was afraid you wouldn't want to talk to me again. You had all the right to do so, but I'm happy to see I was mistaken."

"I would never do such a thing."

She nodded, glad to know you two are still friends. "Well, with that situation out of the way, allow me to say I'm still very happy about you and Mr. Demrick. My love for my brother won't change the fact that I support your decision entirely."

You debated whether or not to say something, but the hesitation quickly slipped your mind when you looked at Daphne. She's been a great friend, you know there's nothing wrong with confessing this news to her.

She looks a bit confused when you grab her arm to guide her to a corner of the room, as far away from other people as possible. "I appreciate your words, but I'm afraid Mr. Demrick and I are no longer courting."

"Really? Did my imprudence make him change his mind?" she asks, worried she was to blame for this.

"Not at all. He actually proposed to me that very same evening."

"And...you said no?"

"I couldn't marry him, Daphne," you sighed. You'll never forgive yourself from breaking a good man's heart in the way you did with him, but deep down you knew it was the right thing to do. "I couldn't doom him to spend the rest of his life with a woman that doesn't love him the way he deserves."

"I don't judge you for it. My Mama has always taught us that marriage should be formed out of love. It's the only way a union like this can work," you friend offers, immediately wanting to show her support.

"If anything, my dear friend, I should be thanking you for your intervention," you quickly add. "If you never had that chat with your brother, I would've been engaged to a different man by now."

"I...Oh my, are you–?"

"I was as much of a fool as him. I could've said something a long time ago and yet I remained silent. And when he went to my house to give us a chance, I was once again deciding not to do a thing about my feelings. It was only when he left that I realized I made a terrible mistake."

Daphne is once again reaching for your hands, looking more excited than ever after your words. "You have no idea how pleased I am to hear you say all of this."

"You don't think it's too late, do you? I came here to talk to him, after all."

"No, no, not at all! He was devastated when he came back, I've never seen him like that in my life. We got to talk a little– and it's probably best if he's the one who confesses his true feelings in detail to you personally, but there's no doubt in my mind that from everything he said to me, he's deeply, madly and truly in love with you."

"I assure you I love him just as much."

"I don't doubt it either. And I think I speak for all my family when I say there's no one else we would like to be Anthony's wife but you."

"That makes me so happy to hear," you say with obvious excitement. Even Daphne looked like she could start crying any second. "Should I go talk to him now?"

"Please, I'm sure you can't wait any longer! He's over there, with Benedict and Colin."

"I shall tell you how it goes then."

"It'll go wonderful," she assures you, giving you one last smile before she allows you to leave.

Every second of that walk towards Anthony felt like centuries. Your mind spins with all the possible scenarios and everything you're going to say to him, but by the time you're in front of the three siblings your mind is completely blank.

"Gentlemen," was all you could say. The three of them immediately greet you with a quick bow. You notice Benedict and Colin exchanging looks, while Anthony's eyes are fixated on you. "I'd like to have a word with you– alone, if that's okay."

"Of course, my lady," was all he said.

"Oh my, you could cut the tension with a knife," Colin says suddenly. Anthony is so focused on you he barely acknowledges his comment.

"Shush, brother!" Benedict quickly warns, lightly pushing his little brother so he would start walking. "Excuse us," he smiled your way, starting to follow Colin.

You and Anthony are finally alone, but the people around you are still bothering you. "Is it okay if we go outside for a walk?"

"If it's okay with you," he says, a bit confused at first since you two had apparently agreed that you must keep your distance.

Anthony follows you to the gardens in complete silence. The music and chatter could still be heard. You were glad to realize it was only the two of you outside.

"What is it that you wanted to say to me?" he immediately asks, starting to walk next to you.

"I wanted to apologize for everything that happened."

"No need. Like you said, you made your choice and I'll have to respect it."

"It was the wrong choice. I see that now."

He was a bit surprised to hear that, but agreed with you nonetheless. "I'm afraid I can't say otherwise. At least I hope you find comfort in the fact that Mr. Demrick will be a fine husband, as you so fervently claim."

The two of you have reached a part of the garden that surrounds the two of you with large hedges decorated with beautiful flowers. It was then that you stopped walking and turned to look at him, knowing no one would be able to see or interrupt you here.

"I wanted to let you know that Mr. Demrick proposed and I said no," you blurted out simply, not wanting to keep it from him any longer.

"Why?" was all he could say.

"Because," you say, and this time it was painfully obvious.

Anthony couldn't believe your revelation at first, which would explain why he didn't move from his spot at first. As the realization of it all starts to sink in, he immediately walks closer to you and grabs your face with his hands. This time, you let him touch you as your hands move up to place them above his own.

"You're not marrying him?" he asks, barely above a whisper, still not entirely believing it. He really thought he had lost you forever.

You shake your head, unable to hold back your smile any longer. "There's only one man I'd like to marry."

Anthony smiles wider than ever after your comment and he's not able to control himself any longer, immediately closing the space between the two of you as he kisses you.

His kiss is everything you expected and more. So gentle, yet so passionate. It makes you feel like you're the most delicate thing in the entire world, but he must take a taste, so he does eagerly, yet carefully.

The moment doesn't last as much as you expected as he's abruptly pulling away. "Forgive me, I shouldn't have done that."

He takes a step back but he's gladly surprised when you wrap your arms around his neck to stop him. "Don't," you immediately say, "I want you close."

"I really shouldn't, my dear," he insisted, but you can tell it takes everything in him not to kiss you again at that very same moment.

"Is that so?" you tease him, inching just enough. "So you won't continue to kiss me? Not even if I'm so clearly desperate for you to do so?"

He's really trying to remind himself to be a gentleman. "I don't...it's not appropriate."

"Alright, them. It's perfectly fine, Mr. Bridgerton," you promptly agree, moving back from him entirely as you start walking away from him. "Perhaps we should go back then, before anyone notices our absence."

You're barely able to turn around to face him before he's one again in front of you, grabbing the back of your neck to pull you in for another kiss.

This time, the kiss is anything but gentle. His tongue explores your mouth with a hunger completely unknown to you as his hands explore your body. The hand previously holding the back of your neck trails your collarbone before it explores further down, cupping one of your breasts while the other holds you close to his body, resting dangerously close to your ass.

His lips move down to your jaw until they settle on the skin of your neck. You close your eyes as you enjoy the way he explores you, a few moans escaping past your lips that only seem to encourage him further.

"Anthony," you whisper into the darkness of the night, holding onto his shoulders for dear life while he kisses all over your neck.

"You're such a delight, my love," he mutters against your skin. "You drive me absolutely mad."

He moves back to your lips now, your mind clouded with desire for him and making it impossible for you to think of anything else other than how badly you need him to continue to touch you and kiss you. You could never get tired of this.

But much to your disappointment, he's pulling away from you again shortly after. His forehead rests against yours as both of you are gasping for air. You open your eyes when he's no longer leaning against you, just to catch him looking down at you with a smile.

"You're so beautiful," he comments, one of his fingers tracing your lower lip. "I could kiss these lips all day if I could."

"And I'd have no complaints about that."

He chuckles after your comment before taking a second to contemplate your beauty under the moonlight. "I deeply regret wasting so much time we could've spent as husband and wife."

"We have many years to make amends for that."

"Is that so?" he asks with a smile, his arms wrapped around your waist to keep you close.

"Well, that is if you ask for my hand."

"We'll go back to the ball and I'll talk to your father right away."

You fake to be offended by his comment. "Without asking for my opinion on the matter, Lord Bridgerton?"

"Forgive me, how rude of me," he follows along with your theatrics, but you immediately notice the shift in his eyes before he continues. They look softer than ever and shine as bright as all the stars in the sky combined. And you feel warm, at peace, so loved by the man standing before you. "My dearest, from the moment I met you, I knew we were destined to be together. You not only captivated me with your beauty, but with everything that you are. And as I started to know you, you kept proving me right. I saw it in the way you'd stay practicing your music for hours with such intent and passion. I saw it in the way you care so deeply about the ones fortunate enough to have you in their lives. I saw it in the way my mother instantly adored you, and how Hyacinth wouldn't stop asking me to invite you over so she could play with you. There's no doubt in my mind that you are the one for me."

You were completely speechless, absolutely mesmerized by his words. He takes a moment to gently wipe a few tears falling down your cheeks. He has always said to you how he's terrible at things like this, yet here he is proving himself wrong.

"If all previous words hold any room for confusion, allow me to clear it all right away. I've been yours from the moment we met and I couldn't possibly be more in love with you. And there's nothing that would make me happier than spending the rest of my life with you," he continues, finally taking a step back to grab both of your hands as he kneels in front of you. "Would you make me the honor of accepting me as your husband?"

You couldn't stop smiling at that point, immediately nodding after his question. "Yes. Now and forever, it'll always be yes."

Anthony kisses both of your hands before standing up to pull you in for a hug. "It pleases me to hear you accept. For a moment, I feared the tears were a bad sign."

You laugh at his little joke before breaking the hug. "Perhaps we should get back. I'm afraid we've been gone for quite a while now."

"That shouldn't be much of a problem now that we're engaged. I shall ask to have a word with your father as soon as we get back– and ask my mother for her ring."

"Is it okay if I inform Daphne?"

"I have absolutely no objections if you decide to announce the news to every person inside that ballroom, my love. Let everyone know you'll be the next Viscountess. Nothing would make me happier."

He offers his arm and you immediately accept it, starting to walk back to the ball with him– your future husband. At that very moment, you've sworn you've never been happier.

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x female reader #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x fem!reader #bridgerton tv show #anthony bridgerton angst #anthony bridgerton fluff #anthony bridgerton fic #bridgerton fic

[lucysarah-c]

Euphemisms

Summary: Levi may not have attended school, but he knows a thing or two about pregnancy… and also periods. (Levi takes care of you during your period) Author's Note: I wrote this story a while ago for my main fic. Then, I wrote a different version for the final cut of the fic, so I decided to re-arrange this one so it could be a one-shot. Warning: Suggesting themes, mentions of pregnacy. The reader is a virgin. Word Count: 3.5k

The calendar that was peacefully and innocently lying on top of Erwin’s desk. ‘March…’ her mind read, ‘It’s March already, the 7th to be precise.’ Her mind tried to count days, desperately trying to find missing days that could make the counting lower. Biting her nails with worry, this was a new topic for her to be stressed about.

Levi had joined the military only a year ago, right? He hadn’t been promoted yet, but the gossip in the halls said it was imminent. Perhaps because in the few months he had been part of the Scouts, he had already killed more titans than anyone before. Maybe it was because he worked directly for Erwin, who kept ordering her to write letters to the military board requesting the special promotion of Captain for those who were impressive additions to the military but hadn’t gone through the regular training.

The yet-to-be Captain and she had locked eyes in the past, or… done more than just locking eyes. That was the issue now. Every single time Levi was dragged into Erwin’s office because he had replied with his colorful vocabulary to a higher-up or fought another cadet, she was there. One thing led to another, and during common chores or after training, they had gotten more “familiar” with each other.

Y/N wouldn’t even dare to complain. The thug that Erwin had decided to bring to the surface kicking and shouting was many things. Rushed wasn’t one of them. She had clarified to him that she had never had a boyfriend before, or anything to be more precise, and he had reassured her that she could set the tempo. They would do anything that she felt comfortable with.

“Lev- Ah-“ she whimpered as he kissed her neck enthusiastically and his fingers played thoughtful circles over her clit.

“You like that, hm?” Levi replied almost as joke, it was obvious that she did by the way she rocked her hips against his hand.

“I-?!”

“Shhh,” he hushed her, half as mockery, half because they were breaking curfew “Don’t worry, I won’t go too far… two fingers are all I need,”

Blood rushed to her cheeks as she tried to concentrate on work, pen marking the time as it repeatedly hit the paper she was supposed to be reading while her mind recalled the exact scenes that, she believed, had dragged her into this situation.

The little knowledge that had been shared with her was more lies and tales than realistic information. The sudden crucifixion of her actions a couple of months ago passed in her mind as a picture book, one after the other, as her less pure side made an emphasis on bringing back the mental sequence of him taking off his shirt while smirking and then going down to kiss her, or better say devour her, taking her breath as if he needed the oxygen from her lungs for himself. Perhaps, the rocking of his bare hips against hers, with his manhood in full display for her to see as it pressed against her lower stomach.

‘Maybe it takes longer to show… no no, maybe I’m not. But what if I am?’ ‘Who do I tell? Who do I ask? What do I do?’

“Oi, are you going to tell me what the fuck is up with you or not?” Levi asked, pissed off already after an entire day of him asking, “You alright?” and her answering with a face that seemed far from okay, saying “Yes.” He was resting his body on the railing of the watch post, with a hot cup of tea between his hands.

“Nothing,” her voice came out whispery and sad, and he sighed loudly and groaned in pain.

“Just say it. Don’t be like ‘nothing,’” he emphasized the last word with sarcasm and disdain and kept going, “with the most fucked up face. It’s obvious that something is going on. Don’t be a pain in the ass and say it. Cut the show.”

A part of her wanted to be mad at him for saying that she wasn’t making a show or a scene. “It’s nothing that concerns you,” her response came dubitable, which made Levi keep up the demanding attitude, as if this time he wasn’t taking that as an answer. “It doesn’t concern you… you as a man.”

There was a brief silence before he sighed loudly. “You’re on the rags, that’s it?” She raised an eyebrow at the euphemism that was a bit more “street-like” than what she was used to. “You’re on your period, you’re bleeding. That’s what I meant.”

Leaving aside that it wasn’t the first time and wouldn’t be the last that despite both of them talking the same language as every human inside of the walls, Underground slang was so distant from what she was used to that sometimes that they got lost in translation. When she got what he meant, she blushed intensely, ashamed. “No, and God, you could be a bit more delicate about it.”

Possibly, she wasn’t used to bringing the topic around the other gender. She had been told (since it happened for the first time) the bearable minimum amount of information: “You’re a woman now, it will happen every month, men must not know.” Telling Levi was breaking one of the three rules set in stone for her. The second rule was also broken, so she felt like stepping on completely foreign land.

The permanent wrinkled frown in Levi’s complexion was slightly changed with the addition of a raised, thin eyebrow. “If you’re not, then what’s the problem?”

She joined in the frowning and avoided his glance with questionable security and a mortified appearance. “More like… the lack of it?”

“Why are you worried about it?” Levi’s straightforward nature was testing her limits of politeness.

“Well, you know!” she cussed at him. “That I may be expecting,” she whispered the last part, terrified that someone might even hear her, in the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere. As if those words could travel through walls and arrive at someone.

This was the time for him to be shocked and surprised. His eyebrows raised, and his eyes opened. Suddenly, even without him wanting, a pang of hurt appeared in his face. Levi was quick to question, “Are you fuckin’ someone?”

Perhaps the details or the official title of what they were sharing hadn’t been discussed yet, but Levi somehow thought it was rather clear that they were exclusive. However, since she seemed genuinely worried, Levi considered that perhaps he was the only one taking this more seriously. The idea of him misreading the relationship was like a bucket of cold water mixed with the raging fire of jealousy. He took a sip of his tea, mostly to disguise the disappointment mingled with hurt.

Her coldness was lost, and she pressed her lips together while raising both eyebrows, irritated. “You!”

The former thug, not following her train of thought, admired her in confusion before saying, “How could I get you knotted up?”

Levi’s usual frowning expression changed slightly as he was certainly not getting the point of the conversation. “Are you fuckin’ someone else?”

Gasping in disbelief, “Are you already questioning my loyalty to you?” She felt dreadfully offended. She turned around and gave him her back. “My grandmother was right. Men back up so easily. They leave you as soon as they find out.”

He shook his head slightly while wrinkling the nose, as he tried to process everything. He was completely confused but at the same time he got a rush of relief at her words. “You… you think you could be knock up?”

“Couldn’t you be softer about it? You say it so harshly,” she complained about his sharp tongue. As a silent reply, the hand that wasn’t holding the cup left his trousers’ pocket and raised as he also cocked an eyebrow, completely misunderstanding what was wrong with his choice of words. “I don’t know, maybe a bun in the oven or with child.”

She was freaking out inside and out, and Levi dedicated his best disinterested look to her after her correction of words. “What am I going to do?” she questioned to no one in particular as she felt the fear kicking in.

Levi’s expression remained the same as he gave it a thought, and then said almost as if he was confused of his own actions too. “I … I haven’t put it in yet,”

She seemed to have completely ignored him. Once he had finally concluded there was actually no real problem he sighed and then said, “Then you’re not pregnant, chill. Calm down.” As soon as those words left his lips and she turned around with a dead gaze, his free hand raised again but this time as some sort of white flag. “Fine, fucking terrible choice of words.” Aware that not a single person in human history had calmed down after being told so.

“You don’t know that,” she murmured as a reply to his first statement.

“I think I kinda do.” The calmness in his tone and the disinterest in his face made her even more infuriated.

“People in my life, especially my family, had made it clear before. Messing around with a man could lead to pregnancy. We were both naked and your… your thing was touching me and close by. I don’t know! Maybe it worked somehow,” she desperately tried to express her fears until she heard him chuckle. It was starting to be tiring to dedicated him dead glances.

“Sorry,” he apologized, probably realizing that laughing in her face wasn’t helping. “I may not be the most educated moron around here, but that simply is not how it works. I didn’t put my dick in, not even close, so you’re safe.”

“Are you implying that you know more than everybody around me?”

“More about sex than you? Apparently, yes, I’m sure of that.” As he arrived at the end of his reply, he couldn’t stop a side smirk from appearing on his features, and then he took a sip from his tea. "If getting knotted up was that easy, girly, there would be more kids than fucking grass.”

Her stubbornness didn’t allow her to believe him. She walked around the watch post worrying, “What if I need to carry it on? Will I lose my job? Erwin will be so disappointed in me! I’m not ready for that. I’m not ready to be a mother either.”

Levi rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You know, there’s no fucking schools down there but I’m sure about this.” He commented, thinking to himself so stupidly prudish surface people were compared to the underground. “You’re not knock up. I’ve to put it in and shoot my load for that to happen”

When he noticed she wasn’t really paying attention, Levi took a cup and filled it up with tea. He placed it in her hands and grabbed her face. His rough, calloused hand applied pressure on her cheeks and raised it slowly, to look up at him even when they were more or less the same height. “Calm the fuck down. Why would I lie to you? If it was possible, don’t you think I would freak out? Drink the tea and relax for goodness’ sake. We are one week away from an expedition, and you’re stressed as a fucking cornered rat. Of course, your period is not coming down.”

“Alright,” she stuttered. “But what if I am? You’re not leaving me to deal with this alone, right?” She gave him her best doe eyes.

“Of course,” he replied, mostly to not argue with her but the thought that she was still considering it made him roll his eyes.

Stress is never an excellent ally. He was right in everything. They came back from the expedition; she relaxed for a few days, and it came right in. If there’s something worse than a period, it's a late one. Her hormones were messed up, and everything hurt twice as much.

"Trying" was a generous word for her attempts at pretending she wasn’t in so much pain that she wished she'd never left her bed. It was a mix of the constant discomfort from the unrelenting waves of pain and a boiling sensation in her lower belly. Not to mention the random rushes of intense pain in her butt that made her feel as if time froze until the sensation slowly passed. She felt moody, mostly because the uniform felt like it was pressing in all the wrong places. It was too tight, complicated, impractical, itchy, and either too cold or too warm. She wanted to put on a long shirt and lay in bed for a week.

Her fork moved the food from one side of the plate to the other. She was hungry, but not for breakfast. The usual meal felt like an insult to her state. ‘I want comfort food, not healthy stuff for training,’ she thought.

“Why the shitty face? Are you constipated?” Levi asked bluntly. Her initial thought was, ‘Yes, try going to the bathroom normally when you feel like dying.’

“I have a headache,” she replied miserably.

Levi hummed a positive reply, “Ah,” looking her from the other side of the table and simply stated, “Your blood finally came,”

She choked on the glass of water she was drinking, coughing loudly. When she finally recovered, her embarrassed expression made it clear how she felt. “Don’t say that! Or at least not like that. Haven’t you imagined that a headache is a social clue since you’re a man and I don’t want you to know?”

Levi, who once again didn’t understand her reactions, kept his uninterested facade and raised the teacup to his lips. “I don’t get your fucking embarrassment. Men know about it. It’s not a secret.”

“It’s girls’ stuff,” she tried desperately to keep the traditions she was told, while Levi was obstinate about going against them.

“It’s normal. Why are people here on the surface so fucking obsessed about hiding normal shit?” Levi, still getting used to another society, snarled.

The need to argue left her body as she writhed in pain from another cramp. She tried to hide it as best as she could, even though Levi already knew; she felt like expressing her pain was something he didn’t want to hear.

“If you feel that bad, go to bed and rest.” His voice was calm and monotone as always, but there were hints of compassion escaping his stoic expression.

“I can’t tell the superiors,” she used as an excuse.

Levi clicked his tongue, annoyed. “Who cares? What’s the point of you training while feeling like this? Go, rest, and I will tell Erwin.”

“Erwin shouldn’t know,” she cried out loud, as if that was the worst fate.

“Don’t be an idiot. Erwin has hair on his balls. He knows how it works.” Levi felt as if she was talking nonsense but when he saw her conflicted face, he added, “I will tell him you caught a cold, whatever, so rest. I’ll do your chores.”

“You sure?”

“Just go.”

She did exactly that. At first, she felt she shouldn’t because she could bare it, but as soon as she arrived at her shared bedroom, changed her clothes, and laid quietly on the bed, she knew she didn’t want to be anywhere else. She fell asleep; it was still early anyway, so it was more like resuming the rest of the night than an actual nap.

Later, a few hours before dinner, she was feeling quite bad but wasn’t tired enough to take another nap. Laying on her side, curled up as she read a book slowly because it was hard to read from that position, she heard a knock on the door. It was unusual because her friends would have just rushed in.

“Come in!” she said, slowly and lazily sitting up.

Levi's figure appeared, and she felt the urgent need to smooth out her hair, which was heavily tangled from lying in bed all day. “What are you doing here?” she questioned quickly, running her hands through her hair. “Men are not allowed in the female barracks.”

Levi left a tray with tea and some buns with jelly, probably leftover from breakfast, on her nightstand as he moved next to her between the two bunk beds. “Who is gonna keep me out?” he replied monotonously, as if they both knew nobody was going to pick a fight with him or get on his bad side by snitching to a higher-up.

Before she could thank him, he asked, “You have a hot water bottle?”

“Yeah, but it’s cold already,” she replied, still confused. He extended a hand as a silent gesture for her to give it to him.

Once she handed it to him, he declared, “I’ll come back later. Drink the tea before it gets cold. Bread with jelly was the closest thing to something your bratty sweet tooth would like.”

She accepted the warm cup he handed her with a tender smile. “Thank you so much, you shouldn’t have.”

“How are you feeling?” Levi asked, keeping his eyes on her while she tasted the tea. ‘Chamomile,’ she noted.

“Could be worse, I’ll survive,” she replied, still embarrassed that he was around. “Did you warn the higher-ups?”

Levi nodded. “Told them you had a headache. Erwin said to take it easy today and let him know how you feel tomorrow. He mentioned something about administrative activities or some bullshit like that if you’re still not feeling well enough for training.”

She accepted the white lie without question. While resting warmly in bed, she thought, ‘If it’s only him knowing, I could get used to this kind of pampering.’

The white lie was necessary because when Levi walked to Erwin, who was leading his squad’s early morning training, he stood in front of him and said, “Y/N isn’t training today, she’s bleeding.”

The blunt words made the blond, who was casually writing on a spreadsheet, snap quickly in shock and then chuckle slightly out of nervousness. “Oh, alright, I’ll write her down as indisposed.”

“Don’t tell me you’re fucking ashamed, too?” Levi rested his hands on his hips, looking deeply at his squad leader.

Erwin, probably smiling at the unexpected situation, said, “Well no, but usually people are a bit more discreet… especially the girls.” Levi clicked his tongue, annoyed, before Erwin added, “I highly doubt Y/N told you to tell me that.”

“She told me to say she had a headache.”

“Of course,” Erwin chuckled, knowing those were not her words. “Try to be softer next time, especially if you ever have girls under your command. They get really embarrassed, especially when they are young.”

Levi rolled his eyes. “Got it. I’ll add it to my long list of stuff that you fuckers from the surface get scared about.”

He was ready to go back to training while Erwin let the swears slip by as if he was tired of calling Levi’s attention to those. Then the shorter man asked, “Do you have chamomile tea?”

Erwin raised his attention from the spreadsheet to look at Levi and simply replied, “No. I have black tea.”

He clicked his tongue, “it’s for the brat,” Levi clarified, as if that would make a difference.

“I imagined, but no. I can give you black tea if you want.” Erwin insisted, confused about the specificity.

Levi frowned. “That doesn’t work, moron. Caffeine makes cramps worse. Chamomile works better. Don’t you know that?”

The blond shook his head, not ashamed of admitting his lack of knowledge. “Usually, female cadets don’t talk to us about that.”

“About their bleeding? Don’t you have a little sister?” Levi questioned back, as if that was reason enough.

“Step-sister, and she was born after I joined the military. We never shared a household,” Erwin explained as he went back to his work, disinterested. “And we prefer to call it indisposed,” he added, instructing him again.

“Tch, got it. I’ll add it to the other list of stuff I should say instead,” Levi said, ending the conversation as he turned around and walked away.

Or so he thought, because Erwin spoke up again. His attention was still on his paperwork while he switched the weight from one leg to the other, making the little rocks of the training ground move and crack. “Euphemisms.”

The former thug looked back over his shoulder, frowning, and asked, “What?” from a slightly bigger distance now.

“Euphemisms,” Erwin repeated as if the question was because the cadet didn’t hear it. But as soon as the blond didn’t get an answer, he proceeded to explain, “A euphemism is a word or phrase used to avoid saying an unpleasant or offensive word.”

Erwin had no intention of displaying his education to the former thug, more of a plain explanation. The blond even raised his eyes and did a slight smile as a “white flag,” not trying to sound superior in his explanation.

Levi replied with his best deadpan expression, “You surface assholes know that but not about chamomile tea? You should check your priorities.”

This time, the black-haired cadet truly walked away, hearing his superior chuckle a bit. “Check with Hange. They may have the tea,” Erwin called after him.

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @angelofthorr @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @kikarouflames @levisecretgfblog @searriously @blackdxggr @ackermanswifee Wanna join my tag list? Here!

Ps: If you ask me... Erwin know they are fucking lol

#levi ackerman #levi #captain levi #levi aot #snk levi #levi x reader #levi x y/n #aot levi #snk levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackeman #levi attack on titan #captain levi ackerman x you #captain levi x reader #captian levi x reader #captain levi ackerman x y/n #captain levi x you #levi shingeki no kyojin #levi x you #aot #attack on titan #snk #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titans #levi smut #levi x reader smut #levi ackerman snk #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman x reader smut #levi ackerman x female!reader

[lemon-world1]

You're everything I never knew I needed. │Frank Castle x Fem!Reader

I’m fully aware of the inconsistency in my writing/posting. I’m even more aware that there are many similar fics, but... It’s never enough. I just had to. I’m a sucker for our boy Frankie taking care of his girl. Hope you’ll enjoy it! 

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

word count: 2k

warnings: swearing, mentions of blood, period pain

summary: Your period came unexpectedly just as Frank comes to see you after being away from NYC. It's pure fluff.

Not everyone can say they're friends with the most badass vigilante in New York City. You and Frank have forged an unbreakable bond over countless nights spent stitching up his bullet-ridden body. He'd crawl to your balcony like a wounded animal seeking shelter, and you'd nurse him back to health. 

Your friendship was simple, you took care of him, and he took care of you. He'd fix things around your apartment, like the water heater that blew up or carry your groceries to your apartment. But it wasn't just his actions that spoke volumes. You could see something in his eyes when he looked at you - a hidden feeling.  

Sometimes, Frank's PTSD would get the best of him, and he'd lash out at you. But you knew it wasn't his fault. You stood by him, no matter what because you knew what he went through. You were always there for him, no matter the cost. 

You never told Frank how you felt about him, but you didn't need to. He knew, just like he knew, how much you meant to him.

 ...

It's been a while since you last saw Frank. He had told you he would be out of town for a bit, which left you stuck in your apartment with nothing but your thoughts and the TV. You'd become accustomed to being on call in case he needed you, causing you to lose touch with most of your so-called "friends." But you never gave a damn about them. Frank was the only one who mattered in the big apple.

You had expected tonight to be just another dull evening spent munching on chips and binge-watching another crime docu-series on Netflix. You had passed out in bed, cuddled under the blanket you used to cover Frank with after a long stitching-up session.

But at two a.m., you jolted awake to a familiar pain stabbing your gut. You didn't bother tracking your period calendar because you hadn't been with anyone for so long that you stopped caring about when it would come.

Shit. You cursed as you realized your bed was stained with blood.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuck. This can't be happening. Today was the day you had to pitch your new designs to your most critical client, and the last thing you wanted was to deal with the aftermath of a messy period. You had no time to wash your sheets, deal with the cramps, or even shower at this godforsaken hour.

You needed relief fast, but when you reached for your painkillers, you remembered giving them all to Frank when you stitched him up a few weeks ago. You searched through your first aid kit for anything to alleviate the pain, but in haste, you knocked the whole thing over, spilling everything onto the tiles.

Arrghhh. You were furious at this point, knowing the nightmare was just about to begin. Over the years, you had become used to being dependent on painkillers; otherwise, your period would kill you. Your ob-gyn had tried everything to ease the agony, but nothing worked, and contraception was out of the question. You always kept your prescription pills close by for emergencies, but not this time.

Forty-three minutes had passed, and you were already showered and dressed in fresh pyjamas. The sheets were washing, and a hot cup of chamomile tea sat on your nightstand. But the pain was creeping in, gnawing at you with every passing moment. All you wanted to do was wrap yourself in a fluffy blanket and forget about the world. You tossed and turned on the bed, but the pain persisted. At the realization that you probably wouldn't be fit to get up at 5 and get to work at all, you started panicking. How were you going to cancel the pitch? 

My boss is going to fucking kill me.

Well, she might if your period doesn't kill you first. After another 20 minutes, your silent sobs turned into horrific cries from pain. And just when you thought things couldn't get worse, the familiar knock came. 

Knock. Knock. You looked up and saw a hulking figure peeking through the curtains on your balcony. It was him. 

You got up slowly, your feet planted on the ground as you made your way to the balcony door. 

Frank knew something was wrong the moment he saw you. He could see the pain etched all over your face. Your puffy red eyes, thick, comforting blanket hugging your shoulders, and forearm holding your belly as if it offered support told him everything.

"Hey, baby girl," he said, his voice breaking as he saw you in such agony. "Is everything alright?"

You said nothing, still gazing at him, unable to process that he was really standing in front of you. His hand reached out, gently wiping away a tear from your cheek.

"Hi Frankie, uh... is something wrong? Are you hurt?" He couldn't believe your words. You were in obvious pain and still asked if he was okay. Another piece of his shattered heart glued together at the thought of your kindness.

His hand still on your cheek, he spoke again. "Nah, I just got back to the city. I drove by your buildin' and saw you were up. I figured I'd check up on ya," he said, his voice full of concern.

You cracked a smile, knowing that Frank was always looking out for you. He was the one person you could count on, no matter what.

A visible frown formed between his brows as he realized you were barely standing on your feet. Without warning, you wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your head in his chest. You were so small compared to him. He gently stroked your hair and held you tightly, feeling the heat radiating from your body. He knew something was wrong because you were never hot. He had felt your icy cold skin whenever he touched you, even during the hottest summer days. Without question, he lifted you in his arms and carried you across the room to your bed. 

"Frankie, I'm cold," you said, your voice trembling.

"Shit. You might have a fever," he said, his face creased with worry. "Why you ain't wearin' no socks, baby girl?"

Usually, you would melt under his sweet nicknames, but you couldn't even blush right now. He reached for your sock drawer, pulling out the thickest and fluffiest pair of socks he could find. He gently put them on your feet, making sure they were snug. 

"You take any painkillers yet?" he asked, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of relief. 

You shook your head; you could barely speak at this point. Your body felt like it was being ripped apart, but you refused to give in. "I ran out of meds. Nothing I have is strong enough," you managed to say, gritting your teeth.

A loud scream left your mouth, making Frank sit beside you on the bed and instantly wrap his arms around you. He hugged you from behind, letting you weigh into him. One of his palms rested on your forehead, wiping your cold sweat from the burning skin, and the other squeezed your hand placed on your belly.

Frank's eyes narrowed as he watched you writhe in agony. "I gotcha," he said, his voice low. "Just tell me what you need."

You shook your head again, unable to focus. "Just stay," you pleaded.

"I'm not going anywhere," he whispered in your ear. "I'll take care of you." 

Another hour passed. You still lay there, your body racked with pain. Frank did what he could to ease your suffering, but he knew it wasn't enough. You started to fall asleep but remembered you couldn't be late for work.

"Frankie?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you please set my alarm for 5:30 am? I can't be late; I'm pitching a new proposal to a client." 

"Is that the big one you was tellin' me about last time?"

"Yeah, it's important," you mumbled again.

"I will." No, he won't. There's no chance you're going to work in such a state. When you finally fell asleep, he knew he couldn't let you go to work in the morning. He took your phone and dialled your boss's number.

You had her saved as "Your Highness," which always made Frank chuckle when you called her that. 

Your boss picked up on the first ring. "Hi, it's good you're callin', the-" She started, but Frank interrupted her immediately.

"Mornin', ma'am. It's, ugh, Pete, actually. Sorry to bother you so early, but my girl won't be in today. She's, uh... under the weather," Frank said in a gruff voice.

"Oh dear, I hope she feels better soon. I was about to text her and tell her the client postponed last minute. She can take two days off; she hasn't used any sick days yet. Please give her my regards," the boss replied with concern.

"I will. She needs some rest. She'll call ya back when she can."

"Of course. Thank you for letting me know, Pete. She mentioned you a bunch of times. It's good she has someone to take care of her." 

"'Course, ma'am."

Frank made one more quick phone call before he heard you moving. He rushed to you only to find you frantically searching for work clothes.

"Easy there, darlin'. Your presentation got postponed. You got two days off now."

"What? How?"

"I called your boss. Told her you were sick."

"You did what?!" You were surprised and angry.

"Relax. She said you could take your sick days. You go back to bed and get some rest."

"Really?" A huge weight just dropped off your shoulders. "Thank you, Frankie." You were relieved and grateful.

Ding. Dong.

"Who the hell is that?" you wondered aloud.

"Lemme get that. You go back to bed," Frank said, already halfway to the front door.

You were feeling better, but still in pain, so you crawled back to bed and waited for Frank.

"Who was it?" you asked, curious.

"Just a friend of mine," Frank replied as he handed you a package of pain meds. "A combat medic. He knows his way around this stuff."

"I thought you took care of the drug dealers, not became friends with them," you quipped, the first hint of humour in your voice all day.

Frank chuckled. "Anythin' for you, sweetheart."

You smiled at Frank, feeling grateful for his presence in your life.

You looked at him, trying to read his expression. "Frank, what does that mean? Anything for me?"

He hesitated for a moment as if weighing his words carefully. "It means I'll always be there for you, no matter what. I'll protect you, take care of you, and never let anythin' happen to you. You're important to me, more than you know."

You felt a warm sensation spread through your chest, and you couldn't help but smile. "You mean a lot to me too."

Your heart swelled with emotion as he leaned in and kissed you gently. "I'm not good with words, but I hope you understand," he whispered.

As Frank pulled away from the kiss, he looked at you with a tenderness that melted your heart. "You should rest," he said softly.

But you didn't want to be alone. "Will you stay with me?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Of course, darlin'," he replied, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You shifted over in bed, making room for Frank to join you. As he settled in next to you, you snuggled up against his chest, feeling safe and protected.

"You know," you said after a few moments of silence, "I never expected to find someone like you."

Frank tightened his arm around you. "What do you mean?"

"I mean someone willing to go to such great lengths to take care of me and protect me. Someone so kind and gentle but also so strong and fierce. You're everything I never knew I needed."

Frank's lips curved into a soft smile. "I feel the same way, darlin'. You're the one thing that makes everything worth fighting for."

You sighed contentedly, feeling more at peace than you had in a long time. As you drifted off to sleep, wrapped in Frank's arms, you knew that no matter what the future held, you and Frank would face it together.

For years, Frank had been haunted by nightmares, unable to find solace in anything. But with you by his side, he felt a glimmer of hope that he hadn't felt in ages.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle fic #frank castle fluff #the punisher x you #the punisher #frank castle #frank castle imagine #jon bernthal #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle x you #marvels punisher

[paintyoureyeswithavividmind]

close to home | chapter sixty four

close to home | chapter sixty four

plot: time continues to move on for the reader

series masterlist

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 3,214 Warnings: violence, blood, typical twd, the passing of a beloved pet A/N: thank you for reading!! This chapter is going to feature the death of Tora. I know how much you all love her, but with all the time jumps and to continue this story, cats unfortunately do not live that long. I apologize if this is going to be trigger, and if it makes any of you feel better, I based Tora on my cat who is only 3, and I was sobbing writing this as well. So as a little pick me up, there is the beautiful and loving cat that I based Tora off of (and my bookshelf lol) at the end of this chapter

Weeks turned into months as you and Daryl worked on coming back together. By early spring, you were even more in love with and fully committed to him again. You trusted him again, which seemed to elevate Daryl in unexpected ways. He was more open with the kids and even Michonne and took a seat on the council--you declined Michonne’s offer for the hundredth time. 

By late summer, you were happier and healthier after Daryl returned to you. It was coming up on a year since you’d reunited with him, and things were almost perfect again. 

Almost.

With Tora’s age, you had her out of commission. She wasn’t allowed outside the walls, and stairs were getting too hard for her to climb. You or Daryl would have to bring her up and down. She was getting older after all these years, and you knew she wouldn’t make it to the end of the year. So you spent as much time with her as you could. She followed you around the community, cuddled with you and Daryl every night, and even with Dog. You had Siddiq look at her, of course, and you knew she was having kidney issues. But you could do nothing about it until she started showing pain.

Despite Daryl telling you it was a bad idea, you visited with Negan a few times every now and then. You meant what you said to him years ago, that you were moving past things and letting go of the anger. That meant there was room for a tiny bit of guilt for him spending the rest of his life in a cell, not that you thought he should be let out. But you went down to talk to him, and he was never an asshole to you. For whatever reason, he respected your marriage to Daryl and told you he just liked having someone to talk to. 

You knew Judith was doing the same but didn’t say anything. And Judith was Judith; she would do what she wanted anyway, just like her brother and father. 

Which was why Michonne agreed to let you and a group take her out for a hunt. She was nine now, and Michonne knew how important it was for her to know the ins and outs of the area around the community. She trusted you with Judith’s life. 

So you had Rosita, Eugene, Laura, and Aaron come out with you, as they did most of the out-of-community work anyway. Daryl was needed to help build up one of the new farming stands, so you couldn’t have him come. 

You were meant to meet them in a few minutes at the gate and could hear Judith bumping around in her room while getting ready. The two of you never seemed to get anywhere on time these days. 

“You gotta be kidding me,” You mumbled as you adjusted your belt. It was too tight around your waist. But it was notched where it always was, and then you realized it wasn’t the belt that was too tight. 

“No,” You shook your head as you walked to the mirror that hung from behind the door. You lifted your shirt and turned to the side.

“No, no.” You mumbled as you set your hands around your stomach. It was definitely sticking out more than it should’ve.

You let the shirt drop, which made you look almost normal, and then you picked the shirt up again as you thought about when you got your last period--but of course, it was never regular after the end of the world to begin with. 

“(Y/N), I’m ready to go…” Judith swung the door open but paused when she saw you. “Are you pregnant?” She yelled. 

You immediately pulled her into your room and shut the door behind her. “Do you always have to be so loud,” You said, which made her giggle. 

“Let me see.” She reached for your shirt, which you let her, and she pulled it up. “I remember how big mom’s tummy got.”

“I’m not pregnant,” You said, but you weren't so sure when you looked in the mirror. The symptoms you had for your first were surprisingly few; if it was the same, it wasn’t a wonder how you didn’t realize sooner. 

“I bet Daryl will be happy.”

“Go get your sword before I toss you out the window, missy.” 

***

“Judith!” You screamed, flicking blood off your machete. Your heart was beating faster than you ever could’ve imagined as you looked around the woods for your niece. You felt tears burn in your panic, and you looked at Rosita, who looked as desperate and scared as you. 

You followed Rosita through the woods, screaming out for Judith. You ran towards the sound when you finally heard her yelling that she was close. 

“I heard them calling, they needed our help.” Judith said. 

You looked behind her and immediately drew an arrow. Five strangers were following behind her, all out of breath and in bad shape. Dog was barking like crazy in warning, and you whistled to recall him. He sat next to you. 

Rosita and Aaron discussed with Judith as to why you couldn’t bring them back, and you watched her threaten that she wouldn’t come back. 

“We bring them.” You said. “I will talk to Michonne. I want us in group formation. There are walkers behind every damn tree.” You said. 

Eugene and Laura took the lead, while Rosita and Aaron took the back. You and Judith walked side by side with the strangers. You noticed the two quiet ones were talking in sign language, and you could pick up a few things they were discussing. 

“Hey,” You took a couple quick steps and looked at the one who heard you. You set your machete away and did your best to sign as you spoke. “I’m (Y/N). It’s been a while since I’ve signed. I wanted to reassure you that you’ll be safe. We’ll help your friend. I can’t promise anything after that.”

“I’m Kelly,” The younger one said as she signed. “This is my sister Connie.” You looked at Connie while she signed. “She said-.”

“I got the gist,” You said, then you did your best to sign again and had to spell out a few words you didn’t remember. I went to school for speech pathology before switching to medicine. It’s been a long time, though.

It’s nice to meet someone I can talk to you, Kelly always has to translate for me, Connie signed to you. You were able to understand most of it and you nodded at her, which made her smile. 

***

Daryl was the first one you saw when you walked through the gates, and you smiled, jogging up to him. Your bow clanged against his crossbow as you hugged, and he kissed you briefly before looking past you. “What’s all this?”

“Don’t ask,” You muttered. “One word. Judith.”

“Ain’ a surprise.”

You turned back to the strangers as they marveled at the community, and you saw in their faces how relieved they were. They had to have been out there for a long time. You couldn’t imagine it. After all this time, you didn’t know what you would do without the communities. 

There was a slight argument amongst the residents before Michonne showed up, and after looking them over, she had them put away into holding for the night so the council could vote in the morning. 

Daryl had more work to do, so he bid goodbye, and you walked home with Judith. 

“So when are you gonna tell him?”

“Judith.”

“What? I’m just asking. Would that mean I’m an aunt if you have a baby?”

You smiled, looked down at your niece, and then wrapped an arm around her. “No, sweetheart. It would make you cousins. You’ll be an aunt when RJ has a baby in many, many years from now.”

“But I could help you take care of it.”

“Judith.” 

“Maybe you can ask mom to help you since you don’t have any kids,” Judith asked as she looked up at you. 

You frowned slightly and tipped her hat forward to cover her eyes. “I did have a kid. I had a son. But he died in my belly.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Judith said. “Was it before?”

You nodded as you stopped by the stairs to your house. “It was.”

Judith gave you a big hug. “For what it’s worth, I think you’ll be a great mom. You’re my best friend.” 

***

You were standing in your room a few hours later naked, having just showered. Your long hair was dripping as you turned to look at yourself in the mirror. Your stomach wasn’t extended the way it would’ve been if you’d put on a bit of weight--which you’d gotten back to your regular weight after being shot--but it was just your lower belly. And it took you back to years ago with Liam, and you were this size at around five months. If you were pregnant, you’d be showing earlier. 

You pressed your hand against the swell and sighed loudly. Pregnant. After all this time, you couldn’t be, could you? Not after all these years. 

The sound of meowing caught your attention, and you quickly got dressed before walking over to the window. Tora was at the front steps, and you didn’t like the sound of her howling. Your fingers trembled as you looked at her for another second. She was pushing thirteen, which was on her breed's older side of the lifespan. 

You quickly rushed down the stairs and outside. 

“Tora, sweetie,” You said as you scooped her up in her arms. She’d been losing weight a lot in the past month. You knew her time was coming. 

She meowed quietly as she got comfortable in your arms. Living on your farm, you’d grown up around house cats and barn cats, and they all acted the same way when it was time. When they needed to say goodbye. So when you saw Tora looking up at you with those sweet, innocent eyes, you knew it was. 

Tears burned your eyes as you thought about your old treehouse and living there with her alone. How she kept you alive because you were too stubborn to let her die. And even before that, when Liam gave you to her on Christmas morning, she immediately crawled into your lap and started purring. Thirteen years was long for a cat in this world, and she spent most of it malnourished, even though you did your best. 

“(Y/N)? What’s going on?” 

You looked up at Judith with tears on your cheeks. “Can you run and get Siddiq for me, sweetie?”

Ten minutes later, Siddiq held Tora in his arms as you watched him press around her belly. When she showed discomfort and tried to scratch him, he gave her back to you. 

“I’m sorry. It’s probably the kidneys. I can use the machine on her tomorrow to take a look.”

You nodded, but you knew it wouldn’t come to that. She wasn’t going to make it through the night. 

“Do you know where Daryl is?”

“He was with Aaron. I think they were workin’ late on the farming stand.”

Siddiq said goodnight and squeezed your arm before he left, and then Judith wrapped her hand around your bicep. “Can I come with you?”

“I’m gonna bring her back here, Jude. I promise. Can you get some pillows and blankets on the couch? You know how she likes it.”

Judith nodded and ran back into the house. You sniffled a few times and started walking towards the center of the community. 

You were already crying when you saw Daryl with Aaron, working with flashlights to get the stand finished. You tried to call out his name but had to take a deep breath. Tora stirred in your arms and you shushed her, kissing the top of her head. 

“Daryl?” He turned around the moment he heard the tone of your voice, and you saw his face drop when he saw you. “Tora…she…” You broke out into tears. 

He tossed his tools aside, told Aaron he’d see him tomorrow, and then came to you. “Come on, darlin’, let’s get her home.” 

You nodded as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and led you home.

Judith set up the couch like you asked her, and you gently set Tora on the blankets before sitting on the floor. You gently ran your hand along her body and fluffy tail, and she looked at you with those big eyes. 

Daryl sat down next to you while Judith sat on the couch. You pressed your forehead on the cushion near her paws and tried not to start scream-crying in front of Judith. You wanted to do that and throw things around and punch holes through walls. But you didn’t do any of that. 

“Why don’ ya go get ya mom, Judith? She’ll wanna be here.” 

Michonne joined you with a sorrowful look on her face. She loved Tora, although she didn’t show it. But you remembered perfectly her sneaking little bits of food to her when she thought no one was looking. 

After a little while, you let Tora sleep and leaned against the loveseat. Daryl sat beside you, and Michonne took the chair with Judith on her lap. You told them all silly stories about Tora before they knew her when she was just a kitten, and you told Judith how much her brother loved the cat and how you’d always find him stealing her every chance she got--which was something they had in common. Over the past six years, Tora often slept at the foot of Judith’s bed. 

It drew further into the night, and everyone was half asleep when Tora stirred on the couch. The bell from her collar rang as she jumped down and limped her way toward you. She curled herself up on your lap, and you gently pet her. Daryl took your other hand, and Judith and Michonne came to sit on the floor with you. 

“You’re okay,” You said through your tears. “You can sleep now. Say hi to Carl for me, okay, when you get there?”

Around two in the morning, Tora took her last breath in your arms. You sobbed, holding her body to your chest. Daryl held you while Michonne held a hysterical Judith. 

Your heart ached when Daryl tried to take her body from you, and you finally gave in. “Make sure she’s comfortable,” You sobbed. “Wrap her in her favorite blanket. Please be careful.”

“I got her, I got her,” He reassured you.

Judith came over to you and sat on your lap to hug you, and you held her tight as you both cried. 

“I wanna bury her next to Carl,” You said through tears. “I think they’d both really like that.” 

Michonne wiped away her tears, and she stood up. “Of course, we can plant some flowers. Anything you want. I’m gonna take Judith up to bed. You can sleep in my room if you want, honey.”

Judith nodded through tears as she stood up. “I wanna help bury her.”

You slowly stood up and ran your hand on the back of her head. “We’ll do it tomorrow morning before the meeting. Don’t worry, sweetie, I’ll wake you up for it.”

Your niece gave you one more big hug before Michonne led her to the stairs, and you could hear her crying on the floor above you. You sat down on the chair and hung your head in your hands. 

Footsteps caught your attention, and you looked at Daryl, who you knew was crying. He must’ve taken a few extra minutes to avoid crying in front of Judith. 

“Wrapped her up gentle, I promise,” Daryl told you and helped you up so he could hug you. “In her favorite blanket. We’ll bury her tomorrow.”

“We have to give her a funeral.” You cried into his chest. “A good one. She was my life.”

He rubbed the back of your head and kissed your forehead. “We’ll give her the best damn funeral Alexandria has ever seen, okay? Come on, let’s get to bed. Ya gotta try and sleep, darlin’.”

You didn’t want to; of course, you didn’t. But you knew you needed to, and sleep would make you forget. So you let him bring you upstairs, help you into pajamas, and then hold you while you cried yourself to sleep. 

***

The following day, Tora’s absence had you hysterically crying. It woke Daryl up, and he held you, rubbing your back and trying to help you calm down. Then your door opened, and Judith ran in. 

“I thought you left without me, and I missed it,” She started sobbing and jumped on the bed, pushing her way so she was lying between you guys.

“No, sweetie,” You cried and kissed her forehead. She cuddled up against you to cry. 

***

Aaron must’ve spread the word about Tora’s passing because your family was there as you carried her wrapped-up body to the small cemetery. Michonne must’ve woken up early to dig the grave because it was already ready and waiting next to Carl’s. 

You knelt on the ground and gently laid her body to rest. You wiped away your tears and stood up. Daryl wrapped an arm around you and nodded at Aaron, who grabbed the shovel. 

“I would like to say a few words,” Judith said as she grabbed your hand. “If everyone would please pay attention…” When everyone was, she spoke again. “I knew Tora my whole life. I heard stories about her sleeping in my crib with me. And she was the best cat I ever had. And I love her so much.”

You smiled through your tears at your niece, squeezing her hand. 

“One time when we were on the road,” Rosita said, “Before we found this place, she came up to me and sat next to me. It was weird for me because I’m a dog person. But she just sat right there. It was like she knew I needed to not be alone.” 

“I enjoyed watching her chase birds,” Eugene bowed his head. 

Your eyes filled with tears as Michonne stepped up. “She used to try and steal RJ’s food,” She laughed. “I always let her have some.”

“Thank you guys,” You said. “Thank you for helping keep her safe. She was special. And even though this is heartbreaking, I’m happy I was able to keep her safe. And she passed peacefully in my arms. Safe, and warm, and so, very loved.” 

You looked up at Daryl, the only one who hadn’t said anything. 

“I, uh.. I first met the cat when I first met (Y/N), when we almost killed each other. I remember thinkin’ she must be crazy for havin’ a cat. But Tora was good. And ‘m gonna miss her every day.” 

#daryl x y/n #daryl dixion x reader #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #daryl dixon #daryl twd #twd #daryl x you

[by-soleil]

pov

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x Female Reader

Word Count: 3k+

Genre: fluff, hurt/comfort

Warning: wonwoo is a god sent of a man

This fic was inspired by “pov - ariana grande”

•••

You’ve seen people stutter, in loss for words when they’re asked “What’s the best thing that has ever happened to you?” If you were to be asked the same question a year ago, you might’ve did the same thing. Stutter and be in loss for words.

But if they ask you the very question today. You can pridefully answer with a happy smile plastered all over your face, “Jeon Wonwoo.”

All your life, you’ve seen people being happily in love, for it to only last a short amount of time. After the sweet lovey dovey period pass, comes the storm. The storm that would leave people in tears, heartbreaks upon heartbreaks and never ending travesty.

Past relationships of yours did nothing to break the stereotypes. Every single relationship ending with misery. Making you realize that it’s not worth the pain if you ever decided to try again.

But then, Wonwoo happened.

It’s like he got superpowers. Jumping straight out of your deepest fantasy. Breaking every fear and accusations. Granting you all the wishes you’re even too scared to dream of. The embodiment of the perfect man.

The first time you met Wonwoo was at a football game. He was dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt. Very appropriate for the late September weather.

Wonwoo was calm, he wasn’t loud. Unlike his friends who was hollering the whole entirety of the game, he only threw a couple excited ‘Yes!’ every now and then. Making him stand out even more.

“Who’s that?” you finally give in and ask one of your friends. Can’t help yourself from glancing over to his direction way too many times.

“Which one? Be more specific. There’s literally a dozen guys if not more over there.”

“That one, the one with glasses.” you try to conceal your pointing fingers with your purse. “Does he even go here? Haven’t seen him before.”

Your friends started laughing. Landing them a confused annoyed look from you, “Bitch, don’t even think about it. He’s way too good for fucked up bitches like us.”

Rolling your eyes, you glance at his direction one last time. Your friends are right, he’s probably too nice for an insecure heartless girl like yourself. You don’t even believe in love anymore. Not after all the heartbreak you went through.

“Guess you’re right. Relationships are a waste of time anyway.”

•••

“Excuse me, is this seat taken? Wouldn’t wanna bother you but everywhere else is taken. Sorry.” a deep voice penetrates through the lofi music playing from your airpods.

You turned your head with a slight annoyance and was about to snap only to find the mysteriously calm guy from that home game a couple of weeks ago. This time dressed in a warm beige pullover contrasting his jet black hair.

You took a few seconds to soak in his appearance. His eyes were the sharpest thing you had ever seen despite being covered with his glasses. And his nose was red, probably due to the rapid drops of temperature in the early November weather.

“Yeah, sure. It’s yours.” you nod, trying your best to look away.

“Thank you.” he calmly say before taking the only empty seat next to you. Mid-term week would have the library filled up to the brim.

To this day you really couldn’t comprehend the crazy urges that came over you that day, the one that made you turn your seat slightly towards him so you could glance at him easier. Or the one that have you asked for his name and suggested that you two should save each other seats at the library.

“What the fuck? Did you just came out of the library while talking to Wonwoo?” your friend’s jaw drops as you meet her on the bench to eat the take-out she’s currently holding up for you to take.

“You know him? Did you asked for extra sauce?”

“Yeah, I got like 3 classes with him. And I did, had to pay extra for those. Don’t change the subject, why were you talking to Wonwoo?” your friend demands as she hands you the little containers of sauce.

Drenching your lunch with sauce, you answer nonchalantly. “He sat next to me at the library. We talked, that’s all. And I’ll pay for my sauces don’t you worry, love.” you wink at your friends.

“He’s very cute ain’t he? He’s single I think. But you gotta shoot your shot fast cause I know for a fact half of the girls in my class are crushing on him.” your friends wiggling her eyes in a very teasing manner.

You sigh loudly, confused wether you’re happy with knowing that he’s single or a tad bit jealous thinking he got girls drooling all over him.

Shaking your head to rid yourself the ridiculous thoughts, you snap at your friend. “Shut up, you know I don’t do relationship. Besides we’ve only just met, so calm your fucking tits.”

Rolling her eyes, your friend swallows her food before murmuring lazily, too familiar with your cynicality. “Yeah, yeah, you and your stupid relationship bullshit. I’m just saying that Wonwoo’s a catch and a ton of people I know tryna fish.”

And this time it is your turn to roll your eyes at your friend, acting as if you have no care in the world yet your night ends with you staring at the ceiling wondering why this particular man with a smile that turns his eyes into slits wouldn’t leave your mind.

•••

Your friend : I swear if you stood me up again, I will never talk to you ever again!!!!!! You couldn’t possibly be studying on a friday night!!!!!!!

You : Babe, I fucking love you, you know I do. But I have to take a raincheck tonight. Pls don’t hate me <3

Your friend : You better gave me a solid fucking reason. Our whole friendship depends on it.

You : I have a date… with Wonwoo… How’s that for a reason?

Your friend : ????????? SPILL!!!!!!

You : STOP CALLING ME OR I’ll BLOCK YOUR ASS! I’ll tell you everything tonight!

Your friend : YOU BETTER!

And with that you threw your phone on the bed before going back to your make up. Rushing as you glance at the time, knowing Wonwoo would be here soon.

If the countless study dates you’ve been on with Wonwoo have taught you one thing, it’s that Jeon Wonwoo is a punctual man, showing up exactly on the dot every single time. So it’s no surprise to you when your phone rings at exactly 5 PM.

“Hey. I’d open the car door for you but I know you’ll just make fun of me for it. You know.. the whole cheesy gentleman stuff you hate.” Wonwoo welcomes you with a smile as you sit yourself on his passenger seat.

You had to remind yourself to breathe as you take in his appearance. Wonwoo in leather jacket should be a crime. No, Wonwoo in any kinda clothing would look so good it should be a crime. But then again, Wonwoo without any clothing would—

You shake your head vigorously to get rid of the thoughts. Fastening your seat belt as a distraction from the man seated on the driver seat staring at you with the biggest smile plastered on his face. “Looks like you know me better than I do.”

And you weren’t wrong. Not at all. Over the next few weeks, Wonwoo has proven he knows you like the back of his hand.

Wonwoo would casually do these sweet little things you never thought would spread warmth in your chest, like giving you the last piece of pizza or opting to switch your matcha latte with his macchiato when the barista got your order wrong, knowing you wouldn’t have the heart to call the barista out and would just pretend to drink the matcha latte.

You didn’t realized it at first, but Wonwoo has changed you for the better. Often times you’re shocked on how easy it is for you to let go of your ego and own up to you mistakes to him. Only to him though.

“We should’ve just took the next exit, babe. Look at the traffic.” Wonwoo laughs at the ridiculous amount of unmoving cars in front of you. He wasn’t saying it to make you feel bad about insisting to take the current exit. No, Wonwoo would never do that.

The old you would’ve fire back at him. Telling him something along the lines of how should you know that there’s going to be a power line collision that blocked the traffic flow. But instead, you just sigh, “I know, I should’ve just listened to you. I’m sorry, babe.”

Looking very confused, Wonwoo takes your hand and bring it to his lips. “Don’t be ridiculous, babe. How would you know that the traffic’s gonna be backed up?” Wonwoo continue to pepper kisses on you top of your hand. Sending shivers down your spine. “Besides, this means we got more time to listen to that favorite boyband of yours.”

In this very moment, you are now speechless. He is definitely too good to be true.

•••

Life with Wonwoo feels secure, safe if you will. Not that there’s someone out there trying to get you, but you just feel safe when you’re with him. It’s a warm kind of safe. The kind only Wonwoo could provide.

Night’s without his raspy voice lulling you to sleep felt like a nightmare. Hours not spent looking at his piercing eyes felt like it was moving half the speed.

Sometimes you would find yourself wondering how much you’ve changed.

You, the girl who’s no longer believe in love, let alone being in a relationship is now spending most of your time glued to Wonwoo’s side willingly.

You, who pretty much always refuse any form of kindness from other people, thinking you don’t deserve it or scared with the burden of not being able to return the kindness, is now accepting everything Wonwoo is giving you willingly. Be it affection or pretty books he ordered for you with no special occasion.

These changes not only surprises you but also people around you. Shocked gasps echos in you friend group whenever you brought Wonwoo along. Talking about how wild it is for you to be stuck to a guy this long when you usually only stay with a man for two weeks tops.

“Babe, do you.. maybe.. wanna meet my friends?” Wonwoo asked nervously one night. Looking down at you who’s currently laying on the couch with your head resting on his lap. Wonwoo’s finger playing with your hair as the two of you catch up on the latest marvel series that just keep coming.

Hearing him being nervous made you chuckle, “Why do you sound like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you're nervous or something. And yes, I would love to meet your friends.” you smile at him as one of your hand reach up to pat the side of his face. Making Wonwoo smile back before he leans in and plant the sweetest kiss on your forehead.

You’ve seen his friends a few times but never actually meet them before. His friends are loud, you wouldn’t think Wonwoo would hang out with them given his very calm and collected personality.

You remember clearly how Wonwoo caught your eyes that night, sitting calmly enjoying the game as his friends noisily holler at every single little thing that happened. Meanwhile Wonwoo would just casually balling his fist with excitement whenever your school scored a point.

“Do you think they’re gonna like me?” you ask Wonwoo, suddenly feel nervous as he backs his car into the driveway. It was a small get together held in one of his friends name Hoshi’s house.

Being the over analyzing person that you are, you asked Wonwoo to give you a brief explanation about his friend group. Apparently there are thirteen of them including Wonwoo. They’ve been friends since a long time ago, hence why he’s so comfortable around them despite their differences.

“They would, trust me. I’m just scared you’re gonna get overwhelmed. Cause they sometimes could be too much.” Wonwoo pauses, his hands fly to the either side of your face, giving you a small squeeze of reassurance before continuing, “Especially Hoshi, Seungkwan dan DK. If you ever need me to swoop in and get you out of there just wave your hand and I’ll come to the rescue.” he jokes, planting a quick peck on your nose.

You’re pretty sure your heart just did a backflip.

Keeping you close to his side, Wonwoo lead the two of you to the main living room where you can definitely hear the extravagant noise of singing and laughing.

And right when they spot the two of you everyone who was sitting automatically stand up and clapping, meanwhile the one who’s already standing rushed to welcome the both of you.

“Oh wow, you’re so pretty, no wonder Wonwoo would rather hang out with you. Can’t blame him.” says the guy who introduced himself as Jeonghan earlier, making you burst out laughing. Can’t handle the cheesy compliment.

“Okay! Passed! She’s not the shy type, like the one Seungcheol always bring. Good job Wonwoo!” Seungkwan semi-shout, gathering everyones attention. Pulling laughs from everyone except from Seungcheol.

And with that you easily insert yourself with the fun dynamic Wonwoo’s friend group always seemed to carry. Spending the night laughing, singing and dancing along to the choreographed routine that Hoshi’s just made on the spot.

You were having so much fun with Wonwoo’s friend, you sometime would psyched yourself out thinking he would stare you down and be mad cause you’re being too close with his friends only to find him sitting comfortably smiling warmly at you, enjoying the performance you put out with his friends.

When it was time to go home, you can feel your heart beating fast walking beside Wonwoo to his car. He hasn’t said a word to you. Not until the two of you seated inside his car.

“Did you have fun?” you hear him say, you’re too afraid to look at him.

Staring down at your intertwined fingers, you answer him. “Wonwoo I’m sorry, I should’ve known the limit. I was being too friendly with your friends. I’m sorry.” you softly plea.

A few seconds passed with no sound heard from the both of you. Then Wonwoo chuckles. “Babe, look at me.” he softly say, putting his long fingers under your chin to advert your gaze towards him. “Why are you saying sorry? I love how you get along with my friends.”

To say that you are in shock is an understatement.

“Wh.. what?” you stutter, finally have the courage to look into his eyes.

“Babe, why are you trembling? Do you feel sick?” Wonwoo panics, grabbing you with two strong arms. You can see the evident worry in his beautiful eyes.

And at that moment you are flabbergasted. You couldn’t believe that this person sitting right in front of you, whose currently in the state of panicking thinking you’re not feeling well is real. You really thought he was saving his rage for you to hear now. And you have every single one of your friend’s toxic relationship to blame for it.

A person like Wonwoo exist.

And right now you can feel yourself falling and falling into him. Every baggage you’ve been packing seemed to be fading and now, all you can see is Wonwoo.

Catching him off guard, you launch yourself forward pass the car console and into his lap.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” you chant into his neck. Can’t find it in you to look him straight in the eyes.

Still shocked, Wonwoo run his hands down your back in attempt to soothe you. “Hey, are you okay?”

Sensing the warm tears spilling down your face to his neck, Wonwoo abruptly pull you away from him to really make sure you’re okay. “Hey, hey, what happen? I’m lost, why are you crying, babe. Did I do something?”

With staggered breath you finally manage to say, “I have never felt so loved and trusted. Nobody ever loved me like you do.”

You can see Wonwoo’s shoulder relaxed as if a huge weight was lifted off of it. “Oh baby, if only you could see yourself through my eyes.” Wonwoo softly say with his hands running up and down your arms. “I know, you don’t like me being cheesy but let me say this one time. You deserve it, babe. You deserve all my love and more. I hate how you always doubt yourself and thinking you’re not deserving of what you have.”

Partly because you’re starting to blush hearing the sweet, sweet words falling from Wonwoo’s mouth, you hide yourself with both your hands. “I really wish I could love me the way that you love me. The way I love you.”

“I hope so too, babe. But I’ll be here and I will love you until you see how much you’re worth.” You can feel Wonwoo’s fingers circle your wrists and pulling it down so he could stare right into your eyes.

“You’re so fucking pretty.” Wonwoo whispers as he inches closer.

And as soon as you close your eyes, you can feel the warmth of Wonwoo’s lips on yours. Moving softly against yours in the sweetest pace.

Sighing, you let yourself melt into the kiss, into him.

You don’t know which stars to thank for bringing Wonwoo into your life. All you know is you’re forever grateful of having your perfect boyfriend by your side, through thick and thin.

Making you love not only him but also yourself more with every passing day.

•••

more of my stuff on my masterlist🤍 & twitter🌞

special tags; @aedreamzy @eleven23

my taglist are open<3

#jeon wonwoo #wonwoo #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo oneshot #wonwoo seventeen #wonwoo au #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo x reader #wonu #jeon wonu #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fic #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen au #seventeen scenarios #seventeen drabbles #seventeen x reader #song inspired #ariana grande #pov #by soleil

[icallhimjoey]

Can you write joseph quinn x reader where they are in relationship for over a year. Joseph is in America just for three weeks and one day y/n feels really bad but she thinks its just period cramps, but as the time goes by, she feels worse and worse. And when she finally decides to go to the doctor she finds out that was a miscarriage, and its even more shocking because she didnt know she was pregnant. After few days Joseph comes back and finds out what happened

girlie are you okay?????? i got you, though um, so, big trigger warning obviously! wordcount: 2K ----------

And he wasn't there  

At what point do you call an ambulance?

  “Hey,” Joe sounded far away through the phone.   “Hi,” you voice was strained as you held your breath.   “You alright?” Joe was immediately concerned, you knew he was only asking because of the way you sounded down the phone, so you were quick to calm him down.   “Just cramps, I’m fine,” you managed a chuckle to convince Joe you were fine. “Was your flight okay?”   “They put me in business class,” Joe said.   “Oh wow, very cool,” You were in pain though, the cramps in your stomach were quite literally overtaking you. Squeezing your eyes shut tightly, you were doubled over on the sofa, trying to breathe your way through it. You knew it’d pass eventually.   “Are you sure you’re okay?” Joe could hear the pain in your voice, in your breathing.

   “It’s just period cramps, I’ve taken something for it, don’t worry” you lied.   You weren’t on your period, and come to think of it, you weren’t quite sure how long ago you had your last cycle. You hardly ever got period cramps bar some pressure in your lower back, so you imagined this is what period cramps were like. But you didn’t want to worry your boyfriend if you didn’t need to. He was busy at work and should have his focus there. He would only be in LA for three weeks; enough time to get as many meetings and auditions in as possible and to also hang out and enjoy the city. You didn’t want to ruin that for him, so you decided to downplay whatever was happening to you. Honestly, you really didn’t see the point. Joe silently decided to trust you and to take your word for it. It’s not as if he knew what period pains were like anyway.

At what point do you call an ambulance?

Days passed, but the pain didn’t. Painkillers only did so much, and it had almost become routine to wake up a couple of times in the night to stock your body up on them. The only true comfort you had found was in the shower, when you crouched down on your knees and doubled over to let the hot water hit your lower back. It didn’t completely vanish the constant pain, but it would relax you in waves. The water had to be scorching hot for it to work though, and the fleeting couple of seconds in between the cramps were almost euphoric in comparison.

At what point do you call an ambulance?

It neared on two weeks. You had to call in sick from work, the nagging pain had turned into stabbing and you felt like you were immersed in concrete. It had been a while since you got an actual good night’s sleep, you were lucky if you got any after 4am. Broken nights were doing a number on you, and when you woke up for the 5th time one night, something felt different. There was a pressure in your lower stomach, a type of pain you hadn’t felt before. It felt like an add-on to whatever was already going on inside you. You seemed unable to relax your stomach at all, trying to stop flexing only worsened the pain. When you shifted, you could feel wetness between your legs, and it shocked you fully awake in a panic, tears instantly prickling in your eyes. Throwing the covers off of you body, it was too dark to see properly, but the cool air let you know that it was bad. You could feel it down past your knees, and when you flicked on the nightlight, you were met with a scene straight out of a horror film. The blood was bright, darker where it had soaked the mattress, and you winced in pain.   At what point do you call an ambulance? Was this it? Did you think you could drive still? Maybe. You really didn’t want to be a bother to anyone. You could drive still. After trying to clean yourself up as good as you were going to be able to, the largest tampon you could find inserted, and a pad in your underwear for good measure, you decide to drive over to your GP’s office. It was early, but you would probably get there just as they’d open their doors for the day.   Sweaty and shaking, you walked into the waiting room. The assistant behind the desk seemed preoccupied with her first cup of coffee of the day, and something on her computer screen. You wished Joe was there.   “Morning,” you tried to catch her attention. “I didn’t make an appointment, but I was hoping to get something looked at today?” You were too polite. “No appointment means you’ll have to wait until the doctor’s seen everyone with one,” she started, but then she looked up. “Oh,” you looked like you were about to vomit and unbeknownst to you, there was blood stuck in your hair close to your forehead. “Yea you can come on through,” she motioned to a door on the side of the waiting room and you made your way over as quickly as you could.   “How long has it been this bad?” The GP sounded stern, and you knew it was stupid, but you were afraid he was angry with you. Like a schoolteacher, or your dad would be angry with you when you’d done something stupid.   “The pain? Couple of days.” You hissed through pain as he pressed on your stomach. You could feel more blood escape you right onto the paper of the table you’d been placed on. “Define a couple.” Even sterner. You tried to find the eyes of the assistant, she seemed much nicer. “Maybe like… thirteen.” You winced at your own answer, knowing it wasn’t what they wanted to hear.   You could see your GP and the assistant make eye contact.   “Should’ve gone to A&E.” he said softly to his assistant, almost under his breath, before stepping back to a desk full of instruments. The assistant noticed the panic rise in your body and smiled warmly at you. It helped, but only a little.   “Were you trying?” she searched your face for an answer. “For a pregnancy?”   This wasn’t helping your panicked state, and you shook your head no. Her eyebrows scrunched up empathically.   “Darling, it’s looking like you’re suffering through a miscarriage currently.”   Your brain shot to an image of Joe. Shit. Instant tears. Joe wasn’t there. You wished he was with all your might, but at the same time, you were glad he wasn’t. You’d no idea how he would react to this, and having been given the space to process your thoughts in your own time felt right. Did Joe even want children? It wasn’t like you’d ever talked about it together – you’d only been going out for a year. What were you even thinking? You wouldn’t need to talk about it, you weren’t pregnant: this was a miscarriage.   You were told there was still some pregnancy tissue left in your womb. Not a lot, your body seemed to be passing it naturally. If you wanted to, you could just wait it out – expectant management. They also offered medicine that would help work the tissue out of you, or you could even go in for surgery to have it surgically removed. The risk of complications was small, for all three options, but to you, all options sounded awful and you wanted this over fast.   On doctor’s recommendation, you were sent home with tablets. And painkillers. And a pregnancy test to take in a few weeks to make sure it’d be all over. You spent the rest of the day in the shower, involuntarily watching what made it’s way out of you. The amount of literal flesh that passed was shocking, but at least the painkillers worked. What you didn’t expect was the brain-space the lack of pain gave you to think about what was actually going on. Logically you knew that this wasn’t a human life you were washing down the drain, but your body had been pregnant. Even if it had been for just a few weeks, you couldn’t get it out of the forefront of your mind.   And Joe wasn’t there.   You were exhausted and cried at the sight of your bed. When your phone rang, you didn’t answer. You knew it was most likely Joe calling, but you couldn’t muster up the courage or energy to talk about this now. And what else would you talk about? The fucking weather? Your breath would hitch in your throat every couple of seconds, there was no way you could hide this, so opting to let his call go to voicemail seemed like the sensible thing to do. For now. You would tell Joe when he’d get home in four days, and this way you wouldn’t be a bother to him. It wasn’t as if he was in any position to help you from across the Atlantic anyway.   A few days passed and the pain had mostly subsided. The bleeding you were experiencing felt like a normal period, but mentally, you were not okay. You were snappy, easily triggered and would take anger out on things and people that didn’t deserve it at all. You had taken a shot at cleaning your bed and ran a bloody laundry of sheets, towels and flannels which only made you more annoyed when you realized it wouldn’t get clean with just the one cycle. For the time being you settled on your mattress being ruined. At least your side of the bed was anyway, and you’d slept on Joe’s side for a few nights before actually mustering up the strength to attempt to clean that too.   It's late when you hear the front door open. Joe’s home. The sound of him walking in, trying to be silent in case you were already asleep is enough to hitch your emotion way up into your throat. It had been creeping up there all day, but you’d managed to calm yourself down enough, doing your very best to distract yourself from everything you didn’t want to face.   You’re sat at the dinner table, a warm mug of tea in hand, and when Joe turns the corner the sight of him makes you sob. He’s all brown eyes, soft curls, crinkled shirt and kind expression – all together too much for you to hold it in.   “Oh sweetheart,” Joe rushes to hug you. You can smell the airplane on him still. “Was it that bad? Did you miss me that much?” he’s joking. You have no idea, you think. You’re not able to answer at all, and it alarms Joe slightly. Your crying seems a bit much; you hadn’t been answering many of Joe’s calls, and messages had been short and sweet. He thought you’d just been busy, didn’t have the time to miss him while he was away, and he’d been glad for it. It meant you wouldn’t have had the time to dwell on lonely thoughts of being apart for 21 days. Joe had been on trips before, and so had you, and you always said, ‘no news is good news’. You always did just fine not seeing each other for a little bit. So why this reaction?   “It’s okay, I’m here now,” Joe soothes, but you know he doesn’t get it. When you move out of his embrace, enough to look at him, but not breaking contact, he uses his thumbs to wipe your cheeks before kissing you. And he’s smiling, and you know he’s doing it to make you feel better, but it has the opposite effect. He takes time to scan your face and notices how tired you look. Exhausted.   “Hey, what’s wrong?” Joe’s soft concern is about to break you, you can feel it in your chest. But how do you say what you can’t get out in words? You take his hand instead and lead him to your bedroom to show him. Your attempt to clean it had barely made a difference, it was very evident that you’d bled through the sheets as the mattress was still sporting a dark brown patch on your side of the bed.   “Don’t worry,” Joe chuckles, thinking that the problem was just you getting the bed dirty. He reassures you it’s fine, you can just get a new mattress, no need to worry. You don’t get it, you think. But how could he? You’d spoken on the phone about cramps, and you had said it had been your period.   “No,” you squeeze your eyes shut and attempt a big breath through a snotty nose, the action forcing hot tears down your face.   “I miscarried.” You’re unsure how your vocal chords manage to squeeze the words out of you, high pitched and shaky.   Joe just looks at you for a second, waiting to see if you’d tell him you were joking. It’s a mixture of shock, empathy and hope. “You what?” But you’re not joking.   “Baby,” Joe says on an exhale before pushing you hard into his chest, one hand tightly around your head as you sob into his shirt, the other just as tightly around your back. The feeling of protection washes over you. Too late, you think to yourself. This is what you needed days ago. Weeks ago. Joe hadn’t been there, and Joe could shoot himself in the head for it. He would’ve come home early, cut his trip short without second thought. But he knows you would’ve never allowed it.    “I’m here,” Joe shushes you when he feels the strength with which you’re holding onto him. “I’m here now.”

#requested #joe quinn #joseph quinn #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn x reader #joe x reader #joseph x reader #fanfiction #stranger things 4 #joey quinn #and he wasnt there

[romanoffsbish]

Please Come On, and Stop… This Madness

WandaNat x Fem!Reader

Warnings: PCOS discourse: Blood(<c>lots of it), Moodswings/Depression, Hospitalizations, Pain, Meds-potentially ineffective, did I say pain?

Confused/ Concerned/ Misguided girlfriends, Angsty past argument/Implied Cheating. Subtle/unintentional gaslighting | 3,863 Words

Another day, another mood swing am I right?

You woke up to cold, tainted sheets yet again. As you stared blankly at the ceiling, a surge of pain rushing throughout your body you were trying to figure out how you felt about it; a part of you was relieved your lovers would not have to see you like this, the other part of you was beyond desperate for some form of comfort, and the other, other part was furious and you’d no idea what for. Well, you had an idea but you believed you’d mentally moved passed it, but the angry tears falling down your cheeks and onto the pillow suggested otherwise.

————

When you felt a sudden warmth between your legs, and beneath your thighs you knew it to be imperative that you get to the restroom, but the motivation to move just wasn’t there for you. After another warm rush was felt you sighed, reluctantly pushing yourself up into a sitting position you felt your heart begin to race as if you’d just ran a marathon, and you had the mind to just lay back down and close your eyes. Not wanting an even bigger mess for later was the only thing that got you to even stand up.

The bathroom was only about three steps from the bed, but in your condition it was more like a mile run, every step you took was terrifying, missions where landmines were a possibility never even scared you this much, and though that’s pathetic, it was your unwavering truth. Sighing as you looked back to see the floor free of mess you walked the last couple of steps to the toilet, you laid a throwaway towel down, then dropped your soiled clothes onto it before slipping into the shower as quickly as you could which proved to be a mistake when the world began to spin, and you violently fainted.

Up until about two months ago you’d had this all under control, your girlfriends of five years hadn’t even known of your lifelong diagnosis, and for the most part they still don’t, but they have definitely noticed the changes in you, and they were displeased to say the least, confused was their middle ground and fed up their truth. Natasha was an incredibly doting girlfriend, and Wanda had been much the same at first, but over time her sympathy had run out.

After just a month of your antics she had began to think you were just being dramatic, she has periods every month too, and so in turn she’d convinced Natasha much of the same. Though you’d definitely expected more understanding, you also couldn’t really fault them since you’d never given them the entire truth to begin with. Suffering in silence had always been the name of the PCOS game anyways since most medical professionals had no real long term solutions.

Birth control, and half baked articles about extreme diets were all you had to run with, and even then nothing was ever 100% foolproof. Still, after you started bleeding one random morning in July you realized you’d fucked up. You’d never dialed a number faster than you did when calling up your OBGYN and trying to set up a birth control consultation as you knew how dire it would be if you didn’t stop this now. Sadly you were left to manage it on your own until the second week of August rolled around.

Bewildered you began to backtrack to when it all went so wrong, you’d been so good, you’d kept up with your shots for so long it was a bit shocking to you that this had happened at all. You realized you’d just gotten too comfortable, no periods had been a luxury you had taken for granted; with the stressful wedding planning for Tony and Pepper you’d been hired for, plus with your own plans to propose to your girls you had become distracted.

Somewhere along the way the stress of it all had just caught up to you, throwing you into an unwelcome menstruation, and here you were back to bleeding profusely; it was as if an ever flowing waterfall now resided between your legs, and if you were extra lucky the rocks would flow right on through your stream too.

Even with the implementation of your chosen birth control it didn’t get better, if you were to be honest you’d say it actively only got worse. After a months time the clots never decreased in size or occurrence, your body only growing weaker with all the blood you were losing, and the prescribed necessary supplemental iron only really served to make you feel even sicker. The strangest side effect thus far though had to have been every food you once loved becoming nauseating, so to your body’s total disservice you found yourself skipping most meals, and the cycle of pains were only ever magnified.

Anemia was the perpetrator of your current state, it’s the reason most of your free time was now spent laying down; debilitating exhaustion having overruled your once functioning body, but somehow sleep still managed to evade you. When not trying to sleep one would say you were glued to the toilet, your aching muscles due to the prolonged hours spent sitting on the rough O shaped plastic was proof of that.

The fainting was new though…

—

Natasha was biting her nails while Wanda paced around the quinjet, they missed you so bad, but they also knew they royally fucked up. Last time they say you—two weeks, five hours, and ten minutes ago to be exact—they’d picked a fight with you, and it had been the worst yet.

•~~~~~~~~~~•_•~~~~~~~~~~•

You were curled up on the couch of your apartment under a mountain of blankets, it might’ve been Summer but you were freezing. An empty liter of orange juice sat on the glass table along with your unfinished bowl of soup. Laying on your stomach had become your only means of slowing the flow of symptoms, and you’d take any bit of reprieve possible.

The only light or noise in the room was coming from the TV where the Golden Girl reruns were playing, you mindlessly watched as the women sat around the table eating their cheesecake in their mumus. They complained about the simplest of problems, and their normally funny discourse didn’t even bring you to smile, you just continued to stare until your eyes began to droop closed.

The sudden shuffling behind the apartment door hadn’t even caught your attention, which proved just how exhausted you truly were, but at the sound of keys clashing with glass your eyes were flying wide open, and you were groaning as you brought yourself to sit up., “Hey Natty, Wands.,” you greeted, a bit lackluster for not seeing them all weekend, but they’d become increasingly used to it so that wasn’t even what upset them.

“Moya lyubov’, what’s with the blankets? It’s still 80*F.,” Natasha started in with you, and something in her tone told you it was only the beginning., “I’m cold Natty, sue me.,” Wanda’s eyes narrowed when you chose to be snarky., “It was a simple question Y/N, there was no need to be rude.” She quipped rather angrily. You tried to apologize, but it was too late, the fight they were always going to pick with you began, and there was no sign of it stopping.

“So what? We’re just wasting food now, and leaving messes behind for me to inevitably be forced to clean up?” Wanda barks out, you immediately defend yourself as you’d gotten sick and you just couldn’t handle another bite., “Oh stop it! It’s always something with you nowadays isn’t it?!,” Wanda harshly spat out, and Natasha followed her up with a groan, then she began to list off your usual ‘excuses’ in an obnoxious tone meant to mock you.

“Sorry Natty, I’m just not feeling this dinner tonight.,” she pauses to laugh bitterly., “but you’ll eat a whole pint of sherbet right after I toss out the pasta.”

“Sorry Wands, I was just so tired, I promise I’ll clean up in a bit…” the way she looks at you with pure contempt has you shrinking in on yourself., “But then an hour later the mess is still there, and you’re wide awake watching these stupid shows while Wanda, who’d worked all day, runs circles around you to clean it up.”

“I’m not in the mood guys, but I can take care of you two if you want…” Natasha’s inflection was that of an insecure lover, and it hurt you to think you’d made them feel so othered, but before you could even think to explain this whole mess away Wanda was angrily chiming in.

“If we want?! What does that even mean Y/N? Are we not good enough for you anymore? Tell us detka, are you out there getting it from someone else while you take all this time off from work? There has to be some reason for you to be so lethargic since you clearly do nothing around here all day long.”

Everything stopped when the words flew out of Wanda’s mouth, her angry muttering in direct response to Natasha’s mimicry was something you’d all registered as her going too far, and in a clear panic she’d immediately scrambled to undo it.

“Detka…,” she quietly whispered the pet name while hurriedly approaching, but you jumped up and away from her—much to your bodies upset, but you’d deal with the consequences later., “Don’t you dare fucking touch me…,” Nat tried to approach next but you further recoiled from her touch, and her heart was beating against her rib cage at the sting of your obvious rejection., “Moya lyubov’, please, she didn’t mean it.,” she pleaded but you shook your head, the fallen tears shaking onto the carpet, and you brushed right passed them.

They thought to give you some space, Natasha was making your favorite cookies, Wanda was cleaning up the mess without complaint. Both of them looked to the hallway when your shared door flew open, they were thrilled to see you after twenty long minutes had passed, but their hearts sank as you were in new clothes with a bag slung over your shoulder.

“I’m staying at Maria’s tonight, don’t try to follow me, and don’t think to call me, I’ll be back when I’m ready to talk but not a minute fucking sooner.” Wanda ignored every word you said as she flew into your body, and the way your body reflexively caught her had you really pissed off., “Wanda, get off of me now.,” she shook her head ‘no’ against your chest, and Natasha slowly approached to hopefully defuse the situation if she could at all.

“Moya lyubov’, please don’t go… We’re sorry for snapping at you, it was a rough weekend, we only wanted to come home to cuddle you. Obviously it’s no excuse but we were just so residually angry that it came out at you.,” Natasha was on the verge of tears as she spoke because your normally forgiving resolve was gone, and instead she was faced with this angry, almost bitter version of you.

As angry as you were you refused to yell again, because deep down you planned to forgive them, especially since this is partially your fault for leaving them in the dark for so long, but tonight wouldn’t be when you did, probably not tomorrow either, but eventually.

“If this was a once over I’d believe you Nat, but it’s been weeks of this offensive bickering. It’s like you two don’t actually seem to care about what it is that’s affecting me, not once have you guys tried to reach any deeper than the surface, you’re clearly only concerned on how it displaces the both of you, and your precious orgasms. So no, I am not staying.”

Natasha shakily nodded in understanding, she even reached out to help you with Wanda, but first she wiped the tear from your cheek and you naturally leant into her touch, the comfort you’d been craving all weekend was finally there, but with the words still fresh in your mind you couldn’t bring yourself to accept it.

•~~~~~~~~~~•_•~~~~~~~~~~•

While Natasha was worried about the fight Wanda had a deeper pit of concern building, she had always had this sixth sense when it came to her loved ones, and right now it was completely flaring off the charts., “Friday, how long until we land?”

“Ten minutes Miss Maximoff., Wanda sighed, it’d be another twenty to get back home to you., “Okay, change of plans, please detour to the field by our apartment, put the jet in incognito mode.” Natasha looked up to her with frantic eyes when she heard her concerned voice, only then did she notice the way she clutched her abdomen in pain, she knew then that her nails weren’t going to survive the next five minutes.

Once they sprinted through the door they could hear the shower running, Natasha’s shoulders fell as she visibly calmed, but Wanda’s only tensed further as the pit grew, so she rushed passed Natasha, and the redhead followed. “Detka? We’re home…,” Natasha announced, but as the door flew open she was perplexed, your bedroom was beyond steamy, and then her eyes fell to the mattress painted in sizable splotches of a deep crimson red.

“Fuck.,” both of them were rushing into the bathroom, the drops of blood on the floor, and the massive clumps of it on your clothes were all a bit confusing to the former assassin, but she ignored her need for answers, climbing into the tub without so much as shutting the water off so that she could press her fingers to your neck to check for your pulse., “She’s still alive, but she’s cold to the touch, and she doesn’t look good at all Wands.”

When glancing up she noticed Wanda was visibly shaking, tears were welling up in her eyes, and Natasha just didn’t have time for it., “Not right now Wanda, go get some warm clothes and meet me at the bed!” Wanda whimpered but did as she was told while Natasha was quick to pull your limp form out of the tub, the freezing cold water and bruise already on your face telling her you’d been her for at least an hour if not longer, and it was taking every bit of her training not to lose it.

After you’d been slipped into the sweat suit they rushed you onto the quinjet, and though you were unconscious your body was shivering. Nat was flying the jet while Wanda sat with your frigid hand in hers, sobbing out pleads for you to just be okay, and in an attempt to keep you warm she encased you in her powers. She had nothing more to offer you at the moment, and when Dr. Cho who’d only ever treated you for mission wounds was asking questions, that neither of your girlfriends could answer with total certainty, it had made them even more frustrated that they’d let so much evade them.

“She’s severely anemic, her hemoglobin is barely above seven and that’s nearing critical any idea on as to how this came about?,” They’d been initially stunned into silence, and before either of them could attempt to answer Agent Hill was approaching., “Back up idiots, my sister here has PCOS, and is currently in a horrible flare up. To answer your other question she got the depo shot last month but it’s not working fast enough, and she’s on a shit load of supplements listed on this paper.”

Cho nodded, then immediately got to work, she attached you to an IV for the accompanying malnourishment, then she got you started on a blood transfusion before running a plethora of tests while your girlfriends were forced to watch from outside of an operating room., “Why didn’t she tell us?!,” Wanda squeaks just as loud as her shoes do when she paces around the hall., “I don’t know..” Natasha sighs with her head in her hands as her formerly held back tears are readily flowing over her cheeks.

“You two are incredibly dense.,” Maria groaned as her fingers rubbed circles against her temple to alleviate the stress this has brought her., “She thought it would resolve like it usually does after she gets back on birth control, but when it didn’t you’d already started giving her the cold shoulder, and her hormones were all over the place so she closed off to the idea.,” Maria rolls her eyes at their incredulous expressions, and deadpans., “You’d think with a trained spy, and mind reader for girlfriends you’d have both been made aware long ago.”

“You three can come in now.,” Dr. Cho murmurs without looking up from your test results, and they all rush in, your ashamed lovers stopping to see just how different you looked after nearly three months of suffering through this alone, and before they were breaking down again they tuned into Cho’s important readings.

“We ran an EKG because her pulse was a bit too high for our liking, and fortunately it came back without any means for concern. However, she suffered a concussion from the fall, so even with all our current measures to raise her levels it might take a bit longer than normal for her to wake up but that’s not meant to cause concern. Y/N’s pretty lucky, the IV was able to warm her body back up, her shivering had ceased within ten minutes of receiving the fluids, and in an hour we’ll start her on another round of both fluids and blood, and hopefully we’ll bring the life back to her currently lackluster skin.”

All parties attention was back on you when she’d left the room, Maria the first to approach your side, settling a kiss to your cheek before glaring at your misguided lovers., “I’ll be upstairs in my office giving you three space, but I expect hourly updates, are we clear?,” content with their nods she left the room.

Wanda and Natasha sat there for hours in bitter silence, neither having much to say as they relived through the last few months with you., “This is all my fault…,” Wanda eventually cuts through the thick silence, and Natasha just stares at her in the hopes for her to elaborate., “She tried to tell us in the beginning, but I brushed her off as being dramatic, and then I convinced you too. She had nowhere else to go, and we just made her even more miserable, hell, I even accused her of cheating on us.” Natasha brokenly hums in agreement., “Yeah, we both made our share of mistakes here, and we’re all definitely paying for it, she wouldn’t even see us before we left for out mission, and now she’s the one in the damn hospital.”

“Do you think she’ll forgive us?,” Wanda cries, and Natasha reaches over you to hold her free hand., “It’s Y/N/N, I can almost bet you she already has, I even kind of saw it in her eyes before she left that night that she was trying to. We have a lot of apologizing to do Wands, but I think for now I’m just going to watch her sleep and be grateful she’s still alive to forgive us.”

Natasha took the first session in staying up, Wanda had been far more drained from the mission anyways so it was only fair, plus, she couldn’t imagine not being awake when your eyes finally fluttered open. Alas, her eagerness to stay up faded fast as the adrenaline from the day had worn off, so while Wanda was cuddled up next to you, snoring away the Widow had also fallen asleep with her head lying over your abdomen, and her hand was firmly in yours.

—

When you finally came to you were beyond disoriented, a heavy weight on your stomach, and against your side only furthering your confusion, but a waft of cinnamon, and vanilla told you exactly who was occupying your space. It took all of your energy to do it, but you had managed to open your eyes, and just as you’d expected you were in the medbay.

Natasha’s face was smushed up against your stomach, her lips in a parted pout, and you even saw a little drool layering your nightgown. Wanda had the benefit of the better position, so her appearance was far more put together, but the loud snoring in your ear leveled them. With the gentle stroke of your hand over her face Natasha jolted up, relief filling her when you smiled at her, but then she was nearly back to crying when you completely dodged her kiss.

“You’re all drooly…” You teased, she smirked, then began to litter your face with the nastiest open mouthed kisses, your nose hairs burning when her morning breath wafted their way, and your exaggerated gagging had her pulling back to glare at you, but then your pout melted her back down, and she gave you a proper kiss. Wanda waited for the moment to end before clearing her throat, and looking to you with glazed over eyes, and so you laid your forehead to hers., “Oh my sensitive witch, what is it?”

Natasha snorted, then left to collect breakfast and the doctor, and left the two of you with a chance to talk., “I’m so sorry I dismissed you detka, you deserved so much more than we were giving you.,” Wanda’s body shivered as your still cold to the touch hand cupped her cheek to pull her in for a gentle kiss., “No, I think I should apologize first, because had I just been honest from the start then none of the rest of this would’ve happened honey.,” Wanda repeatedly pecked your lips, and a warm smile met her when she finally pulled back., “I think it’s safe to say we’re all sorry.”

You nodded thoughtfully, but then as Natasha reentered the room you smirked., “However, I do have the excuse of hormonal imbalances on my side… What is it you two had hm? HIBS?” Natasha looks to you with a challenging brow, knowing you’re likely to say something stupid, but Wanda just looks at you with confused eyes., “Horny insufferable bitch syndrome?”

“Good to see you’re feeling better…” Dr Cho greets, and you hide your face into the cackling witches neck., “Your 7AM check in had come back with normal levels, you’re all free to go.” Then she was gone just as fast as she had arrived after helping to detach you from the machinery, and Natasha was even faster when she scooped you up, and carried your giggling form all the way to the car.

The drive back home was reminiscent of the way things usually were between you three, all present parties hearts beaming with joy, and you realize then that all you ever needed to do was tell them the truth. Open communication is the foundation to any relationship that’s wishing to outlast the end of time…

————————————————————

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda x natasha #wanda x natasha x reader #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff x reader x natasha romanoff #wandanat #wandanat pov #wandanat imagine #wandanat x reader #wandanat x female reader #wandanat x you #wandanat x y/n #wandanat angst #wandanat fluff

[xxsp3llb0undxx]

Years go by, without you by my side

Joel Miller x Wife!Reader [2.6k]

Summary: 20 years had passed since the day everything went to shit, Joel lost everything; he was a recluse - or so he thought.

WARNING: GORE ,, INFECTION ,, BLOOD ,, VOMIT ,, MENTIONS OF DEATH ,, SWEARING ,, ONE SIDED LOVE ,, UNREQUITED LOVE ,, SLIGHT TOMMY X READER

MASTERLIST TLOU

Life was good before all of this mess, Joel was happily married and his daughter, Sarah, finally had a mother figure in her life to teach her everything she needed to know about being a woman. The first time Sarah had gotten her period, Joel was terrified; his baby was hurting and she wouldn't stop crying, he had no clue what to do but then Y/n stepped in and guided Sarah through it all. She had made sure the young girl was fully stocked up on pads, chocolate, pain killers and a hot water bottle. Joel had never felt so grateful to have another woman in his life that his daughter could talk to about the things he didn't have a clue about.

The small moments between his wife and daughter made his heart swoon, he was scared Sarah wouldn't approve of their relationship at the start and he would've completely gave up on his love life if his daughter was ever uncomfortable. But, luckily for him, his daughter instantly clicked with Y/n, they were suck at the hip. Everywhere Y/n went, Sarah would be trailing behind, rambling on about random things earning the softest of smiles from the older woman. When Joel and Y/n broke the news to Sarah about them getting married, she was ecstatic. Her smile huge, eyes sparkling. Her happy squeals filled the air, she was practically bouncing off the walls at the news of her dad finally being happy.

Well, that was 3 years ago. A lot had happened in those years, Y/n and Joel tried for a baby but their luck wasn't working. Until it did. It was September 26th, 2003 - Joel's 36th birthday. Y/n had woke up feeling sick, rushing out of bed and into the bathroom down the hall. Last nights dinner coming back up. The noise of her throwing up must've woke up Joel, as he opened their bedroom door and carefully made his way down the hall to the bathroom, Y/n was hunched over the toilet as she continued to throw up into the toilet bowl. Joel crouched down beside her, rubbing his palm up and down Y/n's back, the gesture made the older woman lift her head up from the toilet bowl and look over at Joel; his hair was all over the place, eyes half lidded.

"You okay, sweet pea?" Joel's voice was laced with sleep, his Texan accent more noticeable. Y/n looked at Joel with teary eyes, she hated the feeling of being sick; the feeling of being an inconvenience to everyone around. Joel brought his wife into his chest, wrapping his warps around her smaller frame. "Hey, don't cry darlin' everything's going to be okay." They stayed like that on the bathroom floor for what felt like hours, until Sarah started banging on the slab of wood telling her parents to hurry up so she could get ready for school.

After the whole ordeal in the bathroom, Y/n had went downstairs as Sarah had finished getting ready; telling her dad he had 15 minutes before she had to leave for school. The aroma of dark roast coffee filled the kitchen, making Sarah fake gagging noise. "I don't get how you and dad can drink that stuff." The small comment made the older woman laugh. Before Y/n could reply, the sound of boots hitting against the wooden stairs brought her focus to the staircase to see Joel ready for work, his hair slightly damp form the shower he had. Sarah hugged her father and wished him a happy birthday, not forgetting to bully him over his age.

Once they had eaten breakfast, Sarah had ran upstairs to get something, neither of her parents knew what, though. Tommy was waiting in the truck as Joel gave a goodbye kiss to Y/n, telling her to take it easy today after her being sick an hour prior. Sarah bounded down the stairs and gave Y/n a hug before rushing out the door, the older woman stood in the doorway watching her little family drive off.

Y/n did some house cleaning throughout the day, preparing the the vegetables and chicken for dinner later that day. Another wave of sickness hit her again, she barely made it to the bathroom before she inevitably threw up her breakfast. She flushed the toilet and got up to brush her teeth for the second time that day. Y/n opened the cabinet where the Miller's kept painkillers and first aid things. Her eyes caught a white box on the top shelf, a pregnancy test. Y/n closed her eyes for a second before picking the box up and opening the packaging. She used the test and put on a timer for 5 minutes as instructed on the leaflet. When she checked after the timer went off, she saw two lines - Positive.

A lot had happened in the space of Sarah and Joel coming home, and then Joel having to go get Tommy from the police station. The world fucking ended. There was fire everywhere, people were screaming as cars and trucks drove past them. Tommy was trying his best to find a way out, Sarah wouldn't stop asking questions about the things happening, Joel was panicking and he was right to do so, this was a fucked up nightmare. Then everything got worse, a plane fell from the sky the engines ablaze, and then the next thing anyone knows; the truck flips upside down, smoke pilling out of every nook it could escape from. Joel had gotten Sarah out on his side but Y/n and Tommy were trapped opposite them. "Joel, baby, don't panic. Keep Sarah safe, we will meet you guys down by the river. I love you." Those three little words sounded like the last time Joel would ever hear them from you, and maybe he was right to assume.

Tommy and Y/n walked along the streets, staying in the shadows to not draw unwanted attention to themselves. Tommy's hand clasped tightly around Y/n's, he would never admit it but he always had a thing for her before his older brother finally snatched her up for himself. The trek to the river took quite awhile, probably because of all the infected lurking around ready to pounce at any sound. Just before they had arrive, Tommy pulled Y/n back to the treeline and held her face in his hands, her eyes glistening with tears. "I want you to run, okay? I can't let you get hurt" - "Yes, I know you love Joel but you need to protect yourself at all costs, angel." With that, Tommy kissed the crown of Y/n's head and proceeded to walk over to the area he was supposed to meet his brother but before he could, Y/n tugged on his wrist and placed the pregnancy test in his hand. "Tell Joel I'm sorry and that I will love him until my last breath." Then she was gone. Tommy stared at the plastic stick in his hand, he swore he could hear his heart shatter.

Bang! A gunshot ripped through the air, cries and screams followed shortly after. "You're okay, baby girl. You're okay" - "I know it hurts but you gotta let me pick you up, okay baby?" Joel looked over to his brother, begging him to help but all Tommy could do was stand there looking lost. Sarah died in her fathers arms that night, her blood staining Joel's clothes and skin. He lost his daughter and his wife was probably dead, Tommy told him they got separated on their way to the river. "Before we got separated - she um, she told me to hang on to this for you, I know it's shit timing but I'm sure she would want you to know either way." Tommy gave his brother the pregnancy test, Joel took it with shaky hands as he stared in disbelief. He didn't know if he should be happy or angry, his daughter was dead but there was a chance he could still have some light in his life, only if he could find his love.

20 years had passed since that fateful day. Y/n had been on her own for majority of the apocalypse, she gave birth to her daughter, Amelia, in a QZ in Atlanta. Y/n tried her best to do everything she could to provide as much of a normal life for her daughter but it was hard, it was hard without Joel or Tommy by her side. So when Amelia turned 16, she was taught how to use a gun and how to take down infected when it was necessary. Y/n had snuck out of the QZ one day with her now 19 year old daughter, and started heading in the direction of the only place she knew could keep her and her daughter safe. Wyoming.

The trek was long, Amelia begged her mother to let her take watch so Y/n could rest but she always waved her daughter off, she would destroy everything if anything were to ever happen to her baby. After 4 days of nonstop walking, they finally made it to Wyoming, but that was only the start. They had to make their way to Cody and find where Tommy was holed up this time, he cut all radio contact a couple weeks ago and it scared Y/n, Tommy was all she had left of her old life and she wasn't willing to give that up.

Amelia and Y/n had ran in to an elderly couple living in a cabin in the forest, they had kindly given them directions to where the two women needed to go, not without warning though. Y/n had bid her farewell to the elders and set off with her daughter in the direction of what she hoped to be the direction of Tommy's settlement. After getting past the "River of death", Amelia turned to her mother and pointed at a small camp fire in one of the cave by the river, Y/n being on guard when it came to other people being close, she grabbed her daughters wrist and pulled her along, telling her to just keep moving.

It was dusk by the time Y/n and Amelia had made it passed another river, they were going to continue when they heard footsteps approaching and the sounds of hooves in the distance. Y/n pulled her daughter close and drew her gun, aiming it in the direction of the fast approaching footsteps. After a couple minutes, a young brown eyed girl comes around the corner, she's with an older man, once she notices two guns pointed at her and her travelling partner, her eyes go wide and she fumbles for her own gun.

"Drop your guns or we will shoot." A soft Texan accent rips through the crisp air, Joel's ears perk up, he hasn't heard that voice in a long long time. He studies the older woman, taking in how her skin is paler in comparison to his own, her long hair hidden under a hat. Before he could say anything, the sound of an army of horses came galloping in their direction. Joel pushed Ellie behind him, he can't let anything happen to her, not after what happened to Sarah.

"Put your guns down." The four people huddled in the middle of these thugs on horses, obeyed and dropped their guns to the ground. "Have any of you been around infected?" - "Now don't lie either, because my little helper here will rip you apart if he smells anything on you." Y/n and Amelia let the dog gladly sniff them and give them a quick once over before moving over to the other two behind them. The deep growl made a shiver run down Y/n's spine, she gripped onto her daughters hand, keeping her as close as possible. The dog had settled down after a couple seconds and Ellie had began laughing as he licked her face. "Well it looks like you've bought yourselves an extra 10 seconds." - "What are you doing here?"

Y/n let out a shaky breath before speaking but Joel had also spoke at the same time. "I'm here for Tommy" - "I'm looking for my brother." Joel looked over at Y/n, his assumptions had to be true, he finally found his wife after 20 years. The group rode horseback to the settlement, leading who seemed to be the one in charge. It took about half an hour til they had arrived at the big wooden gates of Jackson. The gates had opened with a soft creak, the group of riders making their way into the settlement. Joel looked around, his eyes locked onto his brother; who was standing on some stairs helping fix something.

"Tommy!" Joel called out, catching the attention of not only his brother but Y/n and some others in the community. "What are you doing here man?" Tommy had a huge smile on his face, Joel brought him into a hug patting his brothers back before breaking apart. "I came to save you, of course." That earned a chuckle from his younger brother. "Who's that you brought with you?" Tommy asked pointing at Ellie, Joel shook his head telling his brother he would talk to him about it later.

Y/n hopped down off her horse, Amelia trailing behind her mother hands stuffed into her jacket pockets. "Tommy?" Her voice still sounded like thick, sweet honey. Tommy whipped his head in the direction of the voice, his smile faltering before he wrapped the smaller woman up in his arms, he clung to her as if she would disappear if he let go. "Now what are you doing here, angel? Last I heard, you were still in Atlanta." Y/n smiled up at Tommy, telling him everything that had happened in the QZ and asking if she could seek refuge in Jackson with Amelia. Tommy instantly welcomed them in, he was glad to have his family back.

Joel and Ellie were in the mess hall with Tommy and Maria when Joel had noticed Y/n and Amelia join them, he still couldn't figure out if it was her or not. So he just went for it and called out the nickname only he would call her, he hoped she would react to it. "Sweet pea? Is that you?" Y/n's head snapped up and stared at Joel, tears rimming her eyes. Her lip quivered as she stared at the man she thought she would never see again. "Joel? Baby, where have you been?" The tears had fallen then, sobs wracked her body as she clung to her husbands body, 20 years without the love of her life had fucked her up but she glad she can finally introduce her daughter to her father.

Once Y/n had pulled away she motioned for Amelia to come over. "Joel, my love, this is Amelia. She's - she's your daughter." Joel looked at Amelia, she had his eyes and Y/n's hair, the perfect mix between both. He held her in his arms for what seemed like forever, he finally had his family back but he will always feel that loss for Sarah. Joel could finally be happy again, he had his daughter and his wife, but most importantly, he had an annoying little shit bird of a 14 year old whom he loved like his own. Joel Miller finally got his happy ending, that's all he ever wanted.

#the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us series #tlou hbo #tlou series #tlou fanfiction #tlou x reader #tlou henry #tlou sam #bill tlou #frank tlou #joel miller #joel miller x reader #sarah miller #sarah miller x reader #Tommy miller #tommy miller x reader #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #tess servopoulos #tess servopoulos x reader

[weixuldo]

Unconditionally Epilogue (pt 1)

Anakin X Reader

a/n: UNCONDITIONALLY IS BACK FOR A FINAL GOODBYE!! this fic really means a lot to me and i wanted to end it out with an epilogue, so here is said epilogue!! (i always said i’d get to it, didn’t i? hehe) this one has a bit of fanservice lolll, I had to incorperate the og trilogy somewhere!

10 years later...

Warnings: cursing, kids?

___________________

The sun was hot as you walked from your car into the bakery; today was the twins' birthday and you were going in to fetch their cake.

As you walked across the warm asphalt you offered your hand behind you, in no time a smaller hand grabbed yours and you smiled.

Your daughter returned the expression, “Hi, Mommy!”.

“Hi baby” you smiled back.

Five years ago, your and Anakin’s first daughter together was born, Rey; she was an unexpected surprise that came right as you finished med school.

You had her in the winter before you started your residency at the city’s biggest hospital. 

The twins were 12 when Rey was born and were beyond excited for the new addition. They spent most of their free time playing with her and Leia would even teach her new concepts she learned in school (not that Rey remembered any of that). 

Your daughter looked alot like you, but she definitely had some signature skywalker traits; her thick luscious hair, her high cheekbones, and her beautiful eyes.

You absolutely adored her.

When you told Anakin the news all those years ago, he could hardly believe his ears; he didn’t think that he would have the opportunity to be a new father again, but he was ecstatic. 

Throughout the pregnancy he would kiss your belly and run over your bump with his own arms, rather than the stiff prosthetics; he told you it was because he didn’t want to disturb the baby with the more harsh motions he made with them on. 

Around that time he was just returning to work again and came home exhausted from all of the walking and meticulous tasks, yet he would still make sure you were as comfortable as you could be before he would relax for the night. 

He was so thoughtful. 

As for Anakin himself, he had his good days and his bad days, but as the years passed his good days began to outweigh the bad ones. His body had gotten accustomed to his prosthetics and he was able to go a whole day with them on without too much discomfort. 

He got himself back to a healthy weight and even started working out again; his routine was much different than what it used to be, but with the help of some specially designed prosthetics he was able to go to the gym with little to no trouble. 

Nowadays his biceps and triceps were particularly defined- some of the new devices allowed him to hold weights and even hold his weight on the pull-up bar. He also got some running blades and tried to make it to the track at least once a week. 

He still had bouts of phantom pains, but those only really came after long periods of wearing his limbs or when he would get stressed. 

His lungs also got significantly better over time with multiple treatments in the earlier years; now they only gave him trouble in winter when the air got thin and crisp. 

__________

“Mommy, which cake are we getting for Lukey and Sissy?” Rey asked as she surveyed the assortments of colored cakes in the glass display case. 

“The baker made their’s specially, so we just have to pick it up” you smiled as you waited for a worker to assist you. 

Today was Luke and Leia’s 18th birthday and were planning a big party. When the twins got into highschool they both made a plethora of friends, so since it was their birthday and so close to school being back in session they decided to have an end of summer and birthday party. 

It took a while to get the date sorted out because you and Anakin had your 10th anniversary vacation planned for around this time since last year.

You decided that you would celebrate the twin’s birthday with the family and close friends then they could have their party later in the week when you and Anakin were gone. 

Maybe it seemed irresponsible to leave two newly 18 year olds to an empty house as you went across the country for a weekend, but you and Anakin trusted the kids, they were responsible and with Leia around, nothing would get too crazy. She grew up to be just as mature as you always figured she would. 

Finally an attendant came up to help you and gave you the cake box in no time. 

“Alright baby, let's go home” you said to your daughter who trailed behind you with an sweet smile on her face. 

__________

Across town, Anakin sat in his office going through documents on his large touch screen computer. 

It was a really good thing for him to be able to go back. The office celebrated his return with a nice cocktail party downtown (very fitting for the prestige of his company). 

Even though you had been with him for a decade, you still weren't quite sure what his business did, you just knew it was very successful (obviously with the income he made).

He and Ben tried to educate you countless times, but you were never a big economics or business girly. 

“I think I’ll just stick to my medical knowledge and leave the economy to you guys” you jokingly told him and Ben. 

Anakin’s return was pretty seamless, he never lost the momentum he once had at work. He hated pity and sympathy more than anything so he made sure to let his work speak for his capabilities. And after only a month and a half back he brought the company's stock up 17%; safe to say no one was questioning his capabilities after that. 

Today was no different, he was on a grind to get extra work done so that he wouldn’t be behind after coming back from the vacation. 

His office was pretty tricked out with innovative tech to help him do things easier. First off, everything was digitized since he didn’t have the dexterity to sift through stacks of papers. Everything was touchscreen for his convenience as well (he wore one of those touchscreen gloves at work). 

The doorway to his suite was expanded so he could go in and out easier on days that he needed his wheelchair.

He also had a bigger office so that he could bring R2; he even had a little treat jar for him. 

Anakin leaned back in his chair and stretched. 

“Almost done Artoo, then we’ll go back home, alright?” he promised, petting the dog beside him. 

After another 30 minutes Anakin was finally finished; he gathered up some of his stuff and put on his work backpack and suit coat. He grabbed R2’s  leash and hooked it on to his “service dog” vest before heading for the door. 

_________________

“Leia, who are you all inviting to the party?” Luke asked from the kitchen. 

“I don’t know? Probably some of my friends from model UN and maybe a few from debate club” she shouted back from the couch. 

She turned to the guy she was leaning on, “you’re definitely coming to the party”.

He made a face, “no, actually I’m not coming and I never wanna see you again”.

“That's fine” she said nonchalantly and turned the other way. 

“Let's see how you function without me,” she smiled to herself. 

“You’re right, what would I do without you? How would I take care of Chewie on my own? The horror… the Horror!” he cried dramatically. 

She giggled and cuddled further into him, “You’re so stupid, Han”.

“Right back atcha sweetheart” he winked before kissing her gently. 

Han Solo was Leia’s long term boyfriend; they started talking in middle school but Anakin didn’t want her to date until sophomore year of high school and even then he didn’t want her to date, but you convinced him to loosen up (Leia was insanely grateful). 

The two of them met after they were assigned to a project in physics class; Leia hated physics and just wanted to be in her gov and econ class that was next period, but she was stuck here with a sarcastic lab partner.

She was annoyed, thinking she would have to do all of the work for their labs but he surprised her; one lab required a long list of calculations so they split them down the middle and Han finished all three of his before Leia had even gotten to the second one. 

“You’re not the only one with brains here,” he said.

“B-but-”

“I know I look as dumb as a bag of rocks, but I sure know my numbers”.

From then on, she was hooked. 

Han had an outward impression of a kind of trouble maker, but he was one of the most genuine kids out there. He was very polite the first time everyone met him and even helped Leia choose a birthday gift for you. He was about a year and a half older than the twins, but had taken a gap year to work.

Leia was really really into him; she would come ask for advice on how to keep the relationship healthy and how to be a great girlfriend. It was cute. 

Han also had an absolutely massive dog named Chewie who was a big sweetheart; he had long brown fur and was always smiling with his tongue out.

Often Han would bring Chewie over to the house because he got along really well with Artoo; they spent many afternoons playing in the backyard while everyone else did their own things. 

As for your kids (when the twins were twelve, you legally adopted them), they turned out to be wonderful people with amazing goals; you and Anakin were beyond proud of them. 

Leia was academically focused and even solidified the spot as the class valedictorian. She joined the debate club and model UN- a natural leader and you and Anakin were beyond proud of the young woman she turned out to be (afterall, you had been raising her for most of her life at this point).

You and her bonded over your shared love for learning and not long after you and Anakin were wed, she started calling you “mom”. 

Unlike her brother, Leia was content spending the weekend at the house just reading books and watching random dramas (not to say she didn’t like a good party); she just didn’t need the typical teenage activities to have fun. 

Luke on the other hand was more entertained by his friends and enjoyed doing typically teenage things. Most weekends he would hang out with his buddies at whoever was hosting’s house; mainly they played video games, watched tv, or just did other random shenanigans. 

He got really into mechanics and welding early on in highschool, so you had him enrolled in a certification program. He now worked at a car shop after school and absolutely loved it. He even had a little crush on one of his co-workers who attended a college nearby (that would have to wait until a bit later). 

On occasion you would smell the nostalgic smell of weed on his jacket as he breezed by to head up to his room; most of the time you would shake your head with a smile, remembering those days. 

But of course you gave him the typical “be smart and safe” talk, but he needed to learn his limits himself, when did telling kids they weren't allowed to smoke ever stop them…?

Exactly.

The age gap between you and the twins never really crossed your mind when they were younger, but since they were growing up and puberty hit them and their friends you noticed some things. Luke’s friends would spend more time asking you how your day had been and their curious eyes lingered longer. 

You really were only about 15 years older than then but apparently they thought you were a milf- you only enjoyed their juvenile attention when Anakin was around (you liked to see him get annoyed by their terrible flirting). 

Often he would walk up and place his mechanical hands on your waist or grip your hip as he came up to “tell you something important”; usually it was just him whispering naughty things into your ear. 

His jealousy was endearing- both of you knew these kids were just sorting out their hormones and that they didn’t stand a chance- but he still felt the primal need to show them that you were his. 

_____________________________________

You pulled into the long driveway of your house and helped Rey out of her carseat before grabbing the cake box from the passenger seat.

Your daughter excitedly ran into the house to find her beloved siblings, which made you smile . 

Soon enough, you saw Anakin’s car pulling in beside yours; you always loved when your schedules would align. You set the cake back down and went over to his door to greet him. 

“Hey, darling. How was your day?” he asked with a tired smile as he opened his arms for a hug. 

“It was pretty good, I’m ready for this vacation though” you smiled into his chest. 

You felt the familiar stiffness of his mechanical hand cradling your waist, “yea, me too” he said, kissing the top of yoru head. 

“Shall we?” he asked, motioning towards the house. 

“We shall” you agreed, picking up the cake once more. 

He turned off his car and Artoo hopped out of the passenger seat; the fluffy dog came over to greet you with a wagging tail and a smile. 

“Hey buddy!” you smiled as he rubbed against your leg. 

Once you set the cake down on the counter, your sleek cream colored cat came sauntering from your bedroom; happily you picked him up and kissed his head. 

“Hello, 3PO” you exclaimed and he meowed back. 

After Anakin had R2 for a couple months, you realized how much you wanted a pet of your own; you always really liked cats and thought that it would be better to have a cat than two dogs with all of the other responsibilities you already had at the house. 

You continued the tradition of naming the pets after your liscence plates; 3PO was the last digits of the car you had when you first started working for Anakin. 

3PO was a very loving kitten, he often curled up in your lap or on your chest at night. At first, Anakin wasn’t a big fan of him- he didn’t really like cats- but as the years went on 3PO grew on him (just like you did). 

Now adays 3PO almost acted as an emotional support pet while R2 carried out the duties of a service animal. 

Either way, you were just glad that he finally approved. 

Anakin walked into the kitchen with a slight limp. 

“Are you alright, Ani?” you asked, helping steady him at the counter. 

“Yeah, my right leg is just giving me trouble today. I think I might have gone too hard at the gym” he said.

“Alright” you said, before tilting your head up for a kiss. 

He brushed your hair out of your face and smiled, “Nothing to worry about, Angel”. 

Afterwards he granted you the kiss you were waiting for; even after all of these years he still gave you butterflies. 

***

a/n: so i made ur kid Rey since shes "an honorary skywalker" in the sequels and in this universe, she's luke and leia's halfsister (technically. even though she sees them as her real siblings). this was a lot of background and hopefully it wasn’t too muddled!, i really just wanted to write this for funsies :)) i hope you all enjoyed though!! there will b one more part!!

Taglist: @katsukiswrld , @wtf-andys , @angeelcoree e , @jetiikote , @khaleesihavilliard , @sxoulchvn, @sakura-amethyst, @dottodottoo , @vader-is-hot , @circuloctm , @jellydodger , @shadowheads-shitshow

#darth vader #darth vader x reader #anakin x reader #vader #sw darth vader #anakin #darth vader fic #star wars #star wars x reader #anakin x you #unconditionally #sw anakin #sw x reader #star wars? #sw fic rec #sw fic #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin x y/n #anakin fanfiction #anakin imagine #starwars hcs #star wars x you

[bigification]

Midas Touch - Prologue

About a year ago, we were out on a joy ride. Me and my buddies Greg and Blake would always go on joy rides late at night. We would rip it through these long backroads, it was nothing but dirt and sparse shrubbery. But we'd always pass this creepy looking government building. We never knew what it was, it only said "Government of the United States of America" on the gate, it never said what the facility was actually for. It was pretty small, but it always had one car in the dimly lit parking lot, no matter how late at night, even on the weekend. We were speeding past it just like any other night, and without warning, an explosion erupted from the building. The right side windows shattered as the car was thrown to the left. The last thing I remember was feeling an immense pressure in my chest and a sharp pain in my right ear. I woke up face down in the dirt. I tried moving, and was shocked at how little it hurt. It did hurt, but not as much as you'd think after getting flung out of a car. I slowly turned myself over and saw Greg slouching out of the broken window of the car, not too far from where I laid. Blake seemed to have been flung from the car early, because he was laying by the road. I sat on the floor as my hope drained away, I thought they were dead.

I don't even know how long I sat there for, my only measure of time was counting the crackles coming from the fire. But it was finally interrupted by the roaring of an engine. It was an eighteen wheeler. The brakes squealed as it stopped right beside where Blake was laying. An average looking man came running out of the truck, and it just gave me enough hope to get up. I hobbled myself to my feet and began stumbling to the truck. The man ran to Blake and he put a hand out, to my surprise, Blake reached out and grabbed it. Relief swept over my body, he's alive. But the moment their hands touched, something weird happened. The man froze in place. It was hard to see what happened next, it was dark and my vision was a bit fuzzy. But the man's silhouette went average sized, to large , to massive in the span of seconds. As I got closer, all I could see was a fat guy hanging under his tiny shirt. Am I hallucinating? Am I dying? The man seemed to unfreeze and he reached down to grab Blake's hand again, this time pulling him to his feet. Even weirder is that it seems the man pulled Blake in for a hug after pulling him up. I continued to make my way towards the road as Blake hobbled over to the man's truck. The man then focused his attention on me. He slowly ran his fastest towards me, all his fat bouncing with each step. As he got closer, I confirmed that his gut was spilling out under his shirt. Honestly his shirt looked more like a bra, containing his massive moobs. He smiled with his chubby cheeks as he got close, he thanked God I was okay and told me to get in his truck. He then grabbed Greg's limp body out of the car and carried him to the truck.

I was kind of in and out of consciousness once I was in the man's truck. All I caught was that he was driving us to his house, and that the nearest hospital was too far. He did seem really jolly for a guy who just found three nearly dead guys on the side of the road, but I am not in the position to question it right now. I could also see that Blake was periodically staring at the trucker's body. Maybe I wasn't hallucinating? Maybe he saw it too? I mean he must have, he was right there.

I have no idea how long the drive went on, but I seemed to be staying awake for longer and longer as time went on. I heard the trucker talking to Blake, who seemed to be the only one of us who could actually stay awake. He talked about how he was driving some equipment through the backroads when he found us. He said we were lucky he was so close to his home, considering we were in the middle of nowhere. But before I knew it, we made it to his place. I think he had called his sons to help sometime during the drive, because there were two younger men waiting on the driveway. The trucker parked and hopped out of the car. I couldn't exactly hear what he was saying to his sons, but I heard one of them comment on his shirt being too small. It was starting to confuse me, why would the son comment on the small shirt but not react to the fact that his dad was like three times fatter than he was before. Are we the only ones that see something is off? Anyway, there wasn't time to think about it. The trucker ran inside, presumably to get medical supplies. Blake seemed capable enough to get himself out of the truck on his own. I just sat there as one of the sons opened the door nearest Greg. He grabbed Greg's arm, and similar to the trucker earlier, he froze in place. The man looked in his mid twenties, but it didn't last long. The young man quickly aged into his thirties, then his forties, and into his fifties. He looked older than his father. His face had slimmed down and matured, and wrinkles formed on his skin. His patchy beard grew out into a more full and bushy beard and his hairline receded quite far. It was hard to see from where I was sitting, but it seemed as though hair on his arms and chest had grown much thicker. It also looked like he had grown a bit of a pot belly, but not big enough to be too noticeable under his shirt. The man unfroze and continued to pull Greg out of the truck as if nothing had happened. What the fuck is going on? I don't have time to think about it as the other son opens the door on my side. He reaches for my arm, and as expected, he freezes in place the moment he touches my skin. I watch close up as the young man starts to grow, but not like the other two. I felt his hands begin to expand as he was touching my arms, and I see his biceps grow until they're ripping through his sleeves. His pecs balloon out until they burst out of his shirt, and a defined six pack forms on his stomach. His jawline sharpened as his face became more sleek. I could see his shorts tighten around his thighs as they grew, even his shoes looked like they had gotten tight. Just like the other two, he resumes as if nothing happened. He picked me up like it was nothing and carried me into his home.

I'm dropped off on a dining table in the middle of the living room. Blake seemed to be sitting on the couch with an ice pack on his head, but he seems shocked at the sight of the two sons, who are completely unrecognizable from the men that he saw before. I turn my head and see Greg laying beside me on the table, I let out a sigh of relief when I see that he's breathing

I end up sitting there for what feels like forever. They gave me a bunch of pills and I didn't really feel much after that. I ended up falling asleep for a while. I woke up and it was light out. I was really sore, even more so than when I woke up after the crash, but can still muster the strength to get up. Greg is passed out on the couch across from me, so I don't bother waking him. I wander around for a bit and see Blake and the trucker's family having breakfast. They invite me to join, so I do. I was too exhausted to really contribute to the conversation, but I was still paying enough attention to get an idea of what was going on. The first thing that I noticed was that the trucker and the son that carried me inside were shirtless, I assume because none of their shirts fit them. And everyone seemed to just act as if things were normal despite the fact that the father is three times the size he was before, one of the sons is now older than his father, and the other son is about doubled in size from pure muscle. The father was always cheery and smiling. He mostly talked about how it was a miracle that we were all okay. It was either that, or he was cracking a joke about something. He was actually surprisingly funny. The son that grew old seemed to be a little more reserved, but when he did talk it seemed to always be some sort of advice. He seemed really smart to be honest. The son who grew strong seemed to be the one usually driving the conversation. He was always the loudest and most assertive, he was really charming. He also wouldn't stop flexing, like he would flex his bicep and just stare at it for a bit, and he would bounce his pecs every once and a while.

Eventually, Blake and I excuse ourselves to talk privately. Once we're out of earshot, he just unloads about all the weird shit that has happened since the crash. FINALLY! I knew I wasn't crazy. He explains what he thinks is going on. He noticed that the man who touched him grew fat, the man who carried Greg in grew old, and the man who carried me in grew strong. He also mentioned that it didn't seem to happen to the men a second time, as he had touched all of them since and nothing happened.

Now that it has been a year since the crash, I always wear gloves. Greg and Blake do too. It didn't take long after the accident that we started accidentally touching people. Whether it was someone grabbing our arm, or simply brushing past someone, it happened often in spite of our best efforts. Now we cover up as much of our body and always wear gloves. Though we did find out a lot about our powers from accidentally touching people.

For one, it only works on adult men for some reason, and it only works once between the three of us. Once someone has been transformed by one of us, they're immune. Each of our powers comes with physical and mental changes, changes that nobody except us seems to notice. Mine makes them grow a lot of muscle, and sometimes makes them grow taller and hairier. It tends to make them more dominant and assertive, more confident, and more charming. Blake's makes them grow extremely fat and usually makes them hairier. It makes them happy, caring, kind, and funny. It also tends to make them have an extremely high appetite. Greg's makes people grow old, which tends to have many side effects associated with getting old. Their hair will turn grey, their skin wrinkles, and they tend to get a bit fatter, just not nearly as extreme as with Blake. It makes them mature, wise, and usually a bit reserved.

Inevitably, basically all of our family members and close friends have fallen victim to our powers. My brother and father are now jacked and go to the gym all the time, despite never going before hand. Blake's father was fat before but now, saying he's obese is an understatement. I've been over for dinner many times since then and man can that man eat. All of the men in Greg's family are about a generation older than they used to be. I'm sure he gets a lot of good life advice from them tho.

As for our friends, there are some funny stories behind that. One time, we were playing beer pong not too long after the crash. Blake was blackout drunk and stumbled over after he threw a ping pong ball. Our friend Darren went to catch him, by the time Blake was back in his feet, Darren was nearly 300 pounds. Darren obviously doesn't know what really happened, but he still talks about the day he went home and his clothes were suddenly 5 sizes too small.

This one was pretty recent. Pete was a guy we met well after the crash, and well after we had transformed all of our friends. So by that point we had been much less careful around our friends because it didn't matter as much. But we kinda forgot we should be careful around Pete. We were hanging out and just decided to start wrestling, I have no idea why. Well when Pete and I started to wrestle, his hand brushed my face. Let's just say he went on to destroy everyone at wrestling that day.

Greg is probably the most careful out of all of us, but he eventually slipped up. Honestly it wasn't even his fault, the one place we can't really cover up is our face. But one time, we were watching the Superbowl and our friend Jim is super into football. It was a close game but his team was down a bit. They scored a touchdown last minute and he jumped out of his seat, accidentally hitting Greg in the face. He's 49 now. And it does look weird considering he is the only one in the friend group that Greg touched, so he is the only 50 year old among a bunch of twenty something's. But luckily anyone who knew him before he was transformed doesn't seem to notice that he's much older than us. And funny enough, Pete now has a group of friends that are his age, but he still hangs out with us too.

I think all three of us had some pretty bad slip ups early on though. Greg went to a job banquet without gloves and ended up shaking hands with most of the men there. A significant portion of their staff have already retired because of him. Blake went to a concert without covering up, we have no idea how many people he transformed, but he thinks it could be dozens. I went to a gay bar and made out with a bunch of guys. Though it is nice to have every guy you fuck be jacked, it's not exactly ethical. I did also find out that my power makes their dick bigger too, I wonder if Blake and Greg's do too.

I have been thinking about it a lot lately though, i might just give up on ethics and just have some fun with it. At least mine doesn't do as much harm as Blake and Greg's do. I get to have fun and they get to have a six pack.

#male tf #muscle tf #fat tf #reality change #getting older #masculine

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for causing a friendship to implode?

In college I was very close with my 3 roommates, and we remained close for a year or so after graduation. After this, I began to feel strained in the relationship. I was feeling growing pains as I settled into adulthood and felt like we weren't in the same place in our lives anymore. I didn't want to have drunken sleepovers as our only in-person interactions anymore - they all lived in our college town, I moved an hour away for work, and every time I visited it felt like we were just reliving college, which I was super not interested in doing. They had also brought in another person to the friend group who I was realizing I absolutely did not vibe with and would rather avoid. I decided to keep some distance from the group, and avoid going to any events this extra person would also attend. I didn't say anything about this intention because I didn't want it to be like an ultimatum "choose me or this person," but I turned down a couple invites because of their presence, and I avoided the group chat we had (because starting another chat with the roommates and not this person felt incredibly petty. In retrospect I should have just done this). I was trying not to be a bitch and kick up a fuss about this person. I figured that someday our lives would mesh together better again, and I'd also be able to maintain a relationship with my roommates that didn't involve this person; we were still friends but it was a cool down period. All of my post high school relationships follow this pattern successfully, we don't talk for months and then reconnect like no time at all has passed.

After like 6 months of this, I invited my roommates to a housewarming party (I did not invite the 4th person, and I was ready to own up to not wanting them in my home). My roommates responded thusly: ghosted me with no response; lied about being out of town with family that day (and posted on Instagram from their home during my party); and finally, one texted me to say that I'd "been distant" and they no longer wanted to hold space for a relationship with me. I was blindsided and pretty devastated.

In the 4 years since, I've reached out multiple times to the friend who lied, who has responded politely but, knowing them, is not interested in talking to me, and to the one who ghosted. I was able to meet up with them once, and thought we were healing the relationship, but they flaked on me several times in the months following that discussion and I was tired of being hurt. After I found out they flaked on going to a con with me in favor of going to the con with the roommate who lied, I was done. I told them that their actions didn't match their words and if they were actually interested in a relationship to hit me up in the future. They said "I had a good time at the con, idk why you feel like this?" Bc you avoided me the whole time dude! Our last interaction was a few months after this when a misguided mutual friend told the ghoster to reach out to me when I was going through a traumatic event. My hurt was so fresh from the con situation that I rebuffed the ghosting roommate, not being comfortable with that level of vulnerability in front of them anymore. That was 3+ years ago; I reached out again a couple months ago in one last attempt to reconnect with the ghoster and the one who lied, and received no response. I have no interest at this time in reconnecting with the one who straight dumped me over text.

This has been hurting me for years. Was it my fault that I lost my 3 best friends seemingly overnight? Did I try so hard not to be an asshole that I overcorrected and was an asshole anyway?

Info: for additional context, all 3 are still friends with each other and the 4th person I don't like, and the ghoster and one who dumped me have been dating since graduation. When the dumper dropped me, all our other college acquaintances unfollowed/blocked me on social media, so we no longer have any mutual friends.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[gv80gb]

Surprise at a Concert

The music was so loud that even the floor beneath her trembled. This was the way she liked it, that's why she fell in love with rock when she was barely a teenager. Now, many years later she was fulfilling her dream of being the drummer of a growing rock band called Midnight Angels, which was becoming more famous each day. Tonight was their most important gig to date, they were playing at a medium sized theatre, but for them, it was the biggest venue they had ever filled. 

Everyone in the public was dancing, jumping and yelling their songs, it should have filled Karla with so much joy and excitement. And usually, it did, but that night she was feeling a little under the weather. Her stomach had been cramping most of the day, at first she had assumed her body was preparing for her next period, she had never been regular and it had been a few months since she had her last one, so it was about time it came. But after a few hours, and after the pains began getting more intense and painful she started to think it was something she ate. The night before she had sneaked out with Erick, the bandmate she had been secretly fucking for over a year, to have Thai for dinner, probably something had gone bad. 

Before the concert started she approached Erick ––.Hey babe –– She whispered. 

––Hey beautiful, you ready? –– He asked enthusiastically. He didn't seem sick, but she still asked him. 

––I am –– She lied ––. Hey, I wanted to ask you, did dinner last night caused you any... discomfort?

He furrowed his brows ––Not really. Why? Are you sick? 

––No, just with a bit of a tummy ache, but nothing serious–– She lied, again. That had been 3 hours ago.

Right now they were playing their most famous song, but Karla couldn't focus on anything but the pain forming in her insides. The moderate cramps had become so much more intense and excruciating. It felt like knifes all around her abdomen. It was a good thing that the band was obsessive with practicing, because she knew the set  by muscle memory and was capable of playing it even through these awful cramps. 

The pain kept on building stronger as different songs passed. A strange pressure was building up inside her, different than the previous pain. Worse. It was like one of her organs was trying to slip out of her through her vagina. FUCK. What if that was what was happening. Another cramp overcame her and she screamed, as she couldn't resist it anymore. Her scream wasn't perceived, since the music and the crowd were loud enough to conceal them. Once she realized no one could hear her, she kept on moaning and grunting through the pain. She wasn't sure if it helped, but she couldn't really stop her body from doing it.

At some point Erick turned to look at her with a concerned look, he raised his eyebrows at her, silently questioning her. She was sweating, and probably looked like a mess. She tried to smile at him, she knew what this concert meant for him, for all of them, she was not going to ruin it for them. Erick gave a slight nod and continued to sing. 

Not soon enough, the last song of the set came, after this she would be able to go to the hospital. The pressure inside her was now so unbearable, she found herself pushing to relief it a little, she din't even realized it at first, it was like her body was taking control over her and was doing the necessary to lift the pain and pressure she was feeling. Suddenly, she felt something inside her shift and pass through her cervix. She closed her eyes and the worst scenario possible came to her mind. She was probably about to die. Never in her life had she felt that amount of pain. When the song ended and the applause began she felt something bulge against her cunt. She closed her legs tight, she wasn't gonna let something out of her in front of their biggest audience ever. A tear began forming in her eyes, but not even crying made her feel any better. 

At the end of every concert each of the 4 members of the band stood up and gathered together in the front of the stage. Each usually said some words and then they would all leave the stage together. Karla stood from her seat behind the drums, and she felt the force of gravity push the thing inside her forward. She walked carefully, without opening her legs much and made her way to the front. She stood besides Erick. As always, they gave her the mic first, being the only female in the band had its perks.

––Thank you for an un...––A cramp made her stumble with her words. Nobody seemed to notice, only Erick's eyes focused on her with a weird expression ––...Unforgettable night. ––She couldn't say anything else, her usual long and heart-felt speeches forgotten. She gave the mic to Erick, waved a little and began walking off the stage. She couldn't stay there anymore, she had to get to her dressing room. 

In the distance Erick could be heard saying ––Erm... yeah, thank you... Excuse me–– But Karla could barely hear it. As soon as she got to her dressing room she doubled over in pain. She let out a scream as she fell to the floor, her hand clutching her tight abdomen. The door of her dressing room burst open and Erick was standing there, pale as a ghost. 

––Kar, what's going on? ––Erick yelled, his voice filled with worry. He kneeled besides her and she immediately found herself supporting her weight on him. 

––Erick–– She said panting. She was pretty sure these were her last moments on this planet, she had to say it, she had been keeping it for months now, always trying to keep it cool, trying not to let her true feelings show, living them in secret–– I love you. I'm so in love with you and I don't want, I can't, keep it anymore UGHNNNNNNN–– She grabbed his shirt and fisted it. 

––Honey, Kar, tell me what's wrong baby ––He said, grabbing her tighter. 

––I think I'm dying –– She simply said and a tear rolled down her cheek. 

Erick grabbed her face and looked for her eyes ––WHAT? No, of course you are not dying. I'm taking you to the hospital. You are not dying on me, you hear me? –– He stood up and helped her up too. 

When she was on her feet, the bulge against her vagina grew, and suddenly a gush of water came out of her.  ––AGHHHHHHH–– She screamed ––. SOMETHING IS COMING OUT OF ME–– Karla's hand reached for the place between her legs, and she could feel something making it's way out. 

Erick took her to the sofa quickly and got rid of her wet pants and panties. She threw her head back in pain. A slight coat of sweat covered her whole body, and her legs were covered in bodily fluids. He parted her legs to investigate, and she felt his hands roaming over her swollen lips. 

––Kar?––He said confused, but a slight smile was forming in his lips. He couldn't be happy about her imminent death, could he? ––You are not dying honey ––He rubbed her stomach as he said it.

––Erick, an organ is coming out of me, tell me how I'm supposed to survive tHATTTTHHGHH–– Another cramp, they were coming right on top of the other now. 

––That is definitely not an organ –– He said, touching her pussy again –– That's a baby. You are having our baby. 

––WHAT? –– It was her time to scream in confusion. A  BABY? She was pregnant? How did that happen? Of course she knew HOW it happened, but she couldn't know how she didn't realize it happened. She had had alcohol during the last months, plenty. And she wasn't careful as a pregnant woman should be.  Was her baby going to be okay?

––We are having a baby honey, I need you to push okay? The head is almost crowning, but I need you to push so we can get it out –– He said, immediately grasping the concept of his parenthood. Karla on the other hand was still very much confused, but nevertheless, she bore down with the next contraction that hit her, more on instinct that on understanding of the situation, but it seemed that her body did understand what it had to do. 

She felt the thing, the baby, stretching her entrance without mercy. The widest part of the head was now parting her slit, every inch of her skin being pulled tighter than she could ever imagine. 

––I can't do this! –– Karla yelled ––I'm not prepared. I CAAAAN'T! Erick, I can't

––Push Kar, come on. PUSH! It's almost out, almost out

A big push that strained all her energy paired with an ear piercing scream later and the head emerged. The lips of her vagina felt the smallest amount of relief as they closed on the neck. Karla threw her head back. 

––Good job Kar, the head's out. The hard part is over. 

––Hardly think its OVER–– She said as the next pain surged and the shoulders slammed against her bruised skin. Throughout the next contraction she pushed, moving their kid little by little. 

––WAIT!–– Erick said suddenly –– I forgot to check for the cord, don't push –– His hand travelled to the base of the baby's neck and he found the cord there. His fingers started working quickly in disentangling it. But the following contraction came harder than the previous ones. Involuntarily, Karla pushed, causing the child to move forward. Erick's hand quickly stopped the motion of the baby ––. I said don't push Karla ––. He said strongly ––. The cord is around the neck, and until it is not you are going to have to hold it. 

She simply nodded, knowing he was right. His hands returned to working the cord and he looked lovingly at her ––I'm sorry babe, I know it hurts, but you need to hold it if we want the baby to be okay, okay?

––I know–– She whispered with a fresh round of tears. She did wanted that baby to be okay, even if she knew nothing about it. Karla knew she had to protect it and she also knew she would do whatever it took to do it. 

After what felt like an eternity, blessed words finally left Erick's lips ––You can push now honey. 

And she did. Karla gave that push all her might, and in that contraction she managed to let both shoulders free ––. OH MY GAAAWD –– She screamed as the rest of her baby was expelled from her body. Fluid flooded the couch beneath her. 

Erick caught their baby in his arms and in between tears he said ––We have a baby girl Kar. In her exhaustion she managed to smile. Erick passed her their baby and stood up. He sat beside her in the couch and with one of his hands caressed her cheek ––. I was to damn scared to answer, but I love you too Kar. You know that, right?

––I do –– She whispered and he closed the distance between them, kissing the hell out of her. 

The door of the dressing room opened up again with two angry bandmates ––Why the hell did you both leave the scenario like th... –– Greg's mouth hung open as he took in the scene in front of him. Erick and Kar hugging and crying, Karla sweating, her legs open and her lady parts exposed and a baby crying in her chest ––What the fuck?

––We have lots of updates for you guys, but lets just say Kar won't be the only female member of the band anymore ––  Erick said smiling at her. 

Greg and Tony stayed in front of them, immobile with surprise. Karla giggled at their faces. 

––Now now –– Erick stood up and walked towards them ––Enough looking at my girl's vag. Give me and my family some time alone, okay? ––He rushed them to the door. 

––Family? –– Tony asked, opening his eyes even more if it was possible –– The baby is yours?!?

––As I said, lots of updates. 

I hope you enjoyed this. Something I wrote for fun :) Hope y'all have a nice day

#author #giving birth #birth kink #surprise baby #surprise birth #pregancy #fpreg #pregnant kink #surprise pregnancy #labor kink #birth fic #birthing #birth

[sequinsmile-x]

Stained Glass Windows - Chapter Fifty Five

Life was complicated, but they wouldn't have it any other way.

-x-

Hi friends,

Today makes it one whole year since I posted the first chapter of Stained Glass Windows. I cannot believe a year has passed and I'm still writing this fic, and that you're all still reading and interacting with it!

I love this version of them and am forever grateful that you do too. I have so much more of their story to tell, so who knows if we'll still be here on 28th November next year!! I'll still be writing it, if you're still reading it.

As ever, thank you so much for your support, I'm endlessly grateful and blown away!

Please let me know what you think of Chapter 55 (!!)

-x-

Words: 2.2k

A full list of warnings for the fic can be found on the Series Master List. Please note that the warnings have been updated for this chapter.

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily wakes up slowly, a luxury that had not been afforded to her very often since Lily had been born just short of five months ago. She stretches, but the movement is interrupted by a meow. She opens her eyes to find herself face to face with Sergio, the cat sitting on Aaron’s pillow as he looked down at her.

“Morning, Serg,” she says, yawning as she reaches up to scratch his head, smiling as he leans into her hand for a second before he climbs on top of her, resting his head on her chest. She chuckles to herself as she looks back and forth between her husband’s empty side of the bed and the empty bassinet on her other side, “Everyone else is awake, huh?” 

She grimaces as she shifts her hips, the pain that had settled into her lower back and belly the night before making itself known now she was awake.

Her periods had been more inconsistent than she was used to since she’d had Lily, even though she’d gone back on birth control as soon as she was cleared to by her doctor. The last several days she’d had the usual warning signs that it was coming - the slight nausea she’d feel in the lead up, the dip in her mood, so when it had started in the middle of the night when she’d been woken up by her daughter, she wasn’t surprised. 

Aaron had also been woken up by Lily, but barely. He hadn’t been home when they went to sleep, a long case having kept him away for several days. Lily’s cries had torn him from sleep, but his eyes were all but glued shut as he mumbled, his words barely escaping as he asked his wife if she needed help. Emily had shaken her head at him and leant down to kiss his forehead, a whisper to go back to sleep against his skin as she told him what was happening, that Lily was fine and she herself just needed a pad and some painkillers, a level of honest intimacy she had once thought she would never have with another person. He’d fallen asleep almost immediately, although at the time she wasn’t entirely sure he’d ever actually been awake. 

He’d clearly remembered when he woke up that morning, giving her time to wake up slowly by taking Lily elsewhere in the house, making sure his wife had a much needed lie in and time to herself. She knew it was for him too, that he loved to spend time with his little girl, one on one time he desperately missed when he was away on a case. 

“We should probably go find them,” she says to Sergio, smiling when he meows, almost in protest, rubbing his face in her chest. She gives him one last head scratch before she sits up, shaking her head as he cat runs and jumps off the bed, already out of the room before she’s swung her legs out from under the covers. She groans as she stands up, her cramps briefly getting worse as soon as she’s upright, but it passes and she shakes it off. After going to the bathroom she heads downstairs, eager to see her husband and daughter. 

As she steps into the kitchen she smiles at the sight she’s met with. Aaron has Lily safely secured in one of his arms, the little girl smiling and giggling as he talks nonsense to her whilst he makes a cup of coffee. He smiles at Emily as she walks in, already reaching for another cup to pour her some coffee too.

“Hi sweetheart,” he says, kissing her cheek when she walks over, “How are you feeling?” 

She groans as she leans against the counter, reaching out to run her fingers through Lily’s hair before she responds, “Let’s just say one thing I miss about being pregnant is the lack of periods.”

“That and the unlimited access to fast food,” he says, smiling at her before he turns his attention to Lily, bouncing the baby girl in his arms to make her giggle, “I half expected you to come out looking like a nugget.” 

Emily hums and takes Lily from him, pressing repeated kisses against the side of her daughter’s head as she settles her into her embrace, “Daddy says that like he’s not the one who took me to McDonalds whenever I asked, Nugget.” 

Aaron smiles at the use of the nickname they’d used when Emily was pregnant, one they had rarely used since Lily was born. He wraps his arms around both of them and kisses his wife’s temple and then the top of his daughter’s head, giving himself a moment to breathe them both in after a few days away on a case. They’d both been asleep when he got home, the house peaceful and quiet as he walked slowly to maintain it, slipping into bed next to his wife and dropping a kiss to her forehead before he fell asleep himself. 

“Don’t worry Lily-Pad, even if you had come out looking like a nugget you’d have been the cutest one I’d ever seen,” he says, kissing Emily once more before he steps away, “I was about to come up and ask if you wanted me to make you anything for breakfast.”

The thought of eating anything turns her stomach and she shakes her head, “No thank you, I’m not really feeling up to it.”

He furrows his brow, “Are you okay?” 

She makes a face at Lily as the baby makes a noise before she looks back up at her husband, purposely hiding a wince as her stomach cramps again, “I’m okay I promise, my doctor said it could be worse for a little while after I had her,” she smiles at Lily and grabs one of her hands, smiling as her tiny fist wraps around one of her fingers, “You’re worth it though, huh sweet girl?” 

He can’t help but smile as he looks at his girls together, still unsure sometimes how this was his life, how he’d been so lucky, “But you’ll tell me if it gets worse? Let me know if I can help?” 

Emily nods, “Of course.” 

She doesn’t mean for it to be lie, but it ends up being one. 

___

She feels worse throughout the day, the pain so much more intense than she’d anticipated. She doesn’t want to worry Aaron, sure that she’s just being dramatic, that her body had forgotten how awful this could be, so she plays it down. Acts as if she’s okay until she can’t anymore, Lily’s bedtime just on the horizon.

“Honey?” Emily asks as she plasters on a smile for her husband when he looks at her, shifting his attention from the TV show they’d been watching that she hadn’t paid any attention to, “Would you mind doing bedtime?” She asks, maintaining her smile when he tilts his head at her, Lily content and laying in her arms, fresh from her bath, “I feel like I could do with a bath myself.” 

He looks concerned as he nods, her love for singing their little girl to sleep at night well established, “Of course, sweetheart.”

“Thanks.”

“You don’t have to thank me, she’s my daughter too. It’s not like I’m a babysitter,” he jokes softly, his concern only deepening when she smiles tightly at him, “Are you sure you’re okay, Em?”

She nods as she presses a kiss to Lily’s hair, “I’m fine,” she says, not sure she believes herself, before she kisses Lily again, “Love you sweet girl, Daddy is going to do bedtime,” she hands Lily to Aaron and stands up, her fists clenched at her side as she digs her nails into her palms as standing causes a wave of pain, “She…” she drifts off as she stops herself from telling him what he already knows, a real smile flashing across her face, “Right, you know what you’re doing. Sorry.” 

He reaches out and squeezes her wrist “Never apologise for loving her, Em.” 

She smiles and nods at him, “I’m going to get in the bath, meet you in our room in a bit?”

She waits for him to nod in response and she leaves the room, her smile slipping off her face when she knows she’s no longer in view. She gies herself a moment and leans against the nearest wall, breathing out a slow breath as she presses her hand into her belly, a vein attempt at easing the pain. 

“Fuck me,” she says under her breath as she starts to walk towards the stairs, “I forgot how much this sucks.” 

The bath does make her feel better. The hot water soothes her sore, aching body. She stays in the water until it starts to cool, until the scents of the essential oils she’d selected have long since faded, a shiver going up her spine eventually forcing her up onto her feet. She smiles as she hears Aaron walk around the bedroom, clearly taking the time to do some cleaning whilst he was alone. 

Her smile fades as the pain returns when she’s upright, somehow worse than it had been all day. Any pretence that she was okay, that this was normal, slips away as she stands out of the bath, her thighs sticky as she tries to take a step, her skin pressing together in a way that immediately feels uncomfortable, her eyebrows furrowing at the unpleasant sensation. Her eyes go wide as she looks down, blood staining her pale skin that had been clean moments ago. For a moment she’s transfixed as a drop of blood falls into the still full bathtub she’s standing in, disappearing into water and half-burst bubbles as it’s diluted, almost beautiful in it’s distruction. 

Something was wrong. 

“What is going on?” She asks herself as she climbs out of the bath, supporting herself on shaking hands as she gets her balance. She walks over to the toilet, her legs leading her of their own accord. As soon as she sits down she feels another wave of pain and she leans over, desperate to find some relief in any way she can.

She groans, her hand pressed into her belly as the pain gets even worse, briefly stealing the breath from her lungs. It was familiar, a phantom of a sensation from when she was in early labour with Lily, hours before everything went to hell and any vague control she had of the situation was stolen from her. 

It reminds her of Rome. Of hiding in the bathroom at school with her teeth sinking into the heel of her hand as she rode through the worst of the pain, only to walk out into the hall moments later and act as if she was okay, as if she wasn’t worried she could pass out at any second. 

She gasps as everything clicks into place all at once. 

The mastitis. The antibiotics she’d been on as a result. The fact they would have rendered her birth control useless, something she would have thought about if she wasn’t sleep deprived, if her baby was sleeping through the night. Exhaustion masked by the tiredness she already felt, sore breasts that she had attributed to breastfeeding, something that had become part of her day-to-day life since having Lily. 

The damn cat was all over her. Showing her affection he’d only ever shown her when she was pregnant. 

She was pregnant. 

She was pregnant. 

She had a feeling she wasn’t anymore. 

She wants to stand up but doesn’t think she can, the pain so intense it was radiating down to her thighs, simultaneously making them feel numb and like they were on fire. 

“Aaron,” she calls out, hoping he hears her through the door of the en-suite. She gives it a moment and after she doesn’t hear anything she tries again, her voice louder this time, “Aaron.” 

She sighs in relief when she hears him, his feet against the floor as he climbs out of bed and makes his way to her. She's grateful she didn’t lock the door, that she never did. 

It had been a long time since they’d had any secrets from each other. 

Any concern he’d been feeling increases when he walks in and finds her sitting on the toilet, her hand pressed firmly into her lower belly. There were tears on her cheeks he won’t acknowledge, well aware she probably didn’t even know they’d fallen. 

“Em, sweetheart,” he says kneeling on the floor in front of her, hitting the ground so quickly his knees crack, the sound echoing around them. His eyes go impossibly wider when he looks at her skin, at the red streaks against her alabaster skin, “What’s wrong?” 

She presses her lips together as she shakes her head, desperately wanting to hold the words back, wishing with every part of her that she didn’t have to say it out loud. That she didn’t have to make it real. But she knows she has to.

“I…I think I’m having a miscarriage.” 

-x-

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