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lolasky · 24 days

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ㅤㅤㅤ HEY DADDY!

[ ᯓ★ ] meeting their future child with you when you're not even dating yet | fem!reader | fluff, humour (at some point), a teeny tiny bit of angst on usopp's one, foul language (just koro saying an 'ass') ꩜ | wc. 4.7k — approx. 1k each |

not said, but kazuki is 4, koro is 8, nyla is 6 and heaven is 11

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤL U F F Y

he'd be so confused once he saw a little boy just like him. not just in appearance, but with his whole energy. once he learned and accepted the fact that the boy – who was his mini version, the crew couldn't even doubt – was his son, he refused to give him back to his timeline.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ☆ ]

the straw hat crew has just docked at an island so they could get some supplies before getting back to sailing.

"okay, so, sanji and i are going to get some food," you tell, waiting for sanji to get out of the kitchen with the list.

"robin and i are going shopping!" nami says excitedly. "are you sure you don't wanna go with us instead with... him...?" she points to the blonde cook, who was lighting up another cigarette.

"i wanna go too!" luffy yells from inside, running to the deck, where the crew were at.

"you. stay." the navigator says through her teeth. "we'll be quick and don't need any trouble. you stay with zoro and watch the ship."

luffy pouted, watching his crew get down from the ship. he looked at zoro, thinking if he could pest him a little, but soon the swordsman brushed him off saying "i'm gonna sleep. if you make any noise or cause some trouble, i'm gonna slice you in three."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ... ]

nami and robin were getting out of another store with more bags, chatting about random things when a kid bumped into them and fell.

"oh, i'm sorry, little one..." robin drops her bags and kneels in front of the little boy, offering her hand to help him stand up, but as soon as she sees his lips quivering and his eyes starting to get wet, she worries.

the little boy stretched his arms out to her, asking silently to be picked up and so she did.

"where are your parents, little boy?" nami asks in a soft tone, watching him getting comfortable in robin's arms.

"and what's your name?" the archaeologist drops the second question.

the kid gazed at the woman, lips quivering again and his voice trembling when he asked "you... you don't rwemember my name aunt lobin?"

nami gave her a weird look. she was as confused as robin. watching the little one in her arms closer, he reminded her of someone. the messy black hair, the big round eyes, the pout. why the hell does this kid look so much like luffy? robin seemed to notice the same thing as her.

"okay... so... what about we look for your parents, huh? and you can tell me your name 'cause i love hearing you say it!" the older woman says, eliciting a big smile from the boy. nami coughed immediately.

"can we go to the shwip? i'm sure they are thewe!" he holds the women's hands and pulls them in any direction.

it sure made the navigator and the archaeologist even more confused because how did he know they had a ship? and why would his parents be there?

"so, sweetheart, tell me your name?" robin asks once again.

"oh! i'm kazuki!" he stops abruptly, making nami almost trip and fall. "i'm monkey d. kazuki!" and that's how their jaws went slack.

"YOU'RE WHO?!" they panic.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ... ]

as soon as the girls got back to the sunny, they met all of the crewmates, except for sanji and you, who apparently hadn't been back yet.

"who's that kid?" usopp asks confused. mainly because he couldn't pry kazuki off of him and his nose.

"where did this kid come from?" zoro asks. he was starting to get irritated.

"uncle zoro, whewe is dada?" the little version of luffy asks, a bit upset that usopp could get him off of him.

"how would i know, kiddo?" he answers in the same annoyed tone as ever.

"i'm so hungry! when is sanji coming?" luffy whines, showing up at the deck and there they could spot the similarities.

not only their hair, eyes, pout, or even the big grin kazuki offered, but the energy the kid had. he was just like luffy in many ways. he just wasn't that loud like the straw hat captain – thanks to his mother.

once the crew saw them together, all the pieces seemed to connect. one, two, three blinks in disbelief and the boys' jaws fell to the ground.

"oh, hey kid!" luffy greets him friendly.

"dada!" the little boy jumped into the captain's arms who seemed as clueless as ever.

and a wave of yelling could be heard.

a couple of minutes has passed by and luffy and his son seemed to get along well. zoro, chopper, usopp, brook and franky were in the same position, they were still loading the information.

the captain and his little kid were running around the sunny, playing tag. they even tried to call the others but they didn't... seem like playing.

"you know, kazuki is too old to be in this... uhm... timeline..." nami points it out to robin.

"i know. how can luffy have had a son?" she murmurs, watching both run and giggle around the ship.

"robin!" it seems to call the other back to earth. "i'm seriously worried! and we don't even know who his mother is." the navigator looks stressed. one luffy is enough trouble, but a luffy and a mini him?

"we don't even know how he got here in the first place." robin sighs.

"we're back!" you announce as you put some bags on the floor.

"wow! you took more time than us." nami approaches you. "what happened?"

"well... sanji decided to pick up a fight over a fish..." you say casually. "uhm... did we miss something?" you notice the boys, finding it normal – well, for the straw hats, but as soon you spot a kid running around the ship with the manchild your captain is, you get confused. "who's that kid?"

"long story..." nami smiles innocently.

"did you kidnap a kid?"

"what? no! it's not- it isn't-"

"mama!" a childly voice is heard from the depths of the sunny and you can see that kid from before running to you happily.

okay, it's going too far!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ... ]

"so, this kid, kazuki, is luffy son's with... you?!" usopp tries to connect all the pieces. you hum an "yes" and his brain seems to burn. "too much information, too much information!" he holds his head while falling to the ground dramatically.

"when did you and luffy make a baby?" zoro asks confused as ever.

"don't be stupid mosshead. this kid is clearly from the future." sanji answers, blowing the smoke away.

"thanks, sanji." you smile at him, who looks at you like he's helplessly in love.

you feel a tug in your shirt and look down at your kid. "is something wrong, little one?"

"mama, i wanna sleep..." he rubs his eyes and yawns, blinking slowly while stretching his arms out to you. the whole crew – zoro included – had their hearts melted.

"then let's sleep, huh?" you say softly, picking him up and gently caressing his cheek and hair as he snuggled against you.

luffy runs to you, seeing his child in your arms. "what? don't tell me you're sleepy already, kid!" the captain pouts, watching the baby yawn. "no, let's play more!" he bounces excitedly.

"luffy, he's tired." you hiss, wanting your baby as calm as possible.

"but i wanna play more with my son!" he insists.

"you played enough, don't you think?" you start to make your way inside the sunny with luffy following you, insisting that they should play more. "now he wants to sleep with his mama."

"but-"

"mama, dada, let's sleep, pwease?" hearing the sleepy voice of his child, luffy seems to calm down a little.

"sure baby." you peck his forehead. "but your dada is not joining us 'till he baths." luffy gasps.

"how can you betray the dada of your child like that?" the captain whines, still following you to your quarters.

"yeah, i guess they settled pretty quickly to this life of mama and dada." nami comments, grinning at their recent view.

"i can't believe this idiot became a father before me." usopp complains, murmuring still lying on the floor.

"how do you know that?" chopper asks. "well, maybe all of you are already parents in the future..." that simple sentence was enough to ignite something in zoro, usopp and sanji.

"hey, kazuki! don't sleep right now!" zoro shouts.

"yeah, tell me if your great uncle usopp gave you little friends to play with, huh?" usopp is the first to run, looking for the little family.

"surely i'm the only one qualified enough to even get a spouse!" sanji yells at zoro, punching him to reach the one person who could give him the precious information.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤZ O R O

he'd be as confused as luffy and would deny every word that kid would say. like, only just because a kid has green hair, is almost obsessed with swords, has the guts to insult him and is the sassiest kid he'd ever met, that is his son, huh? he definitely could grow accustomed to the presence of that child and the fact that he made him with you.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ☆ ]

another island could be seen by the pirates. it meant they could dock there to stock some items. franky was the one eager. on their way, some pirates tried to fight the straw hats – which obviously couldn't be a good idea. well, the matter is, the sunny had some minor damages and usopp and franky were trying to keep their home alive.

chopper and you didn't need anything. the medical supplies were enough for a while, so you and he didn't need to go outside, but he wanted to. nami went to see if she could buy something she liked. luffy went to see if he could find a nice restaurant. zoro, robin, brook and you stayed on the ship.

zoro and you had a hate-love relationship. you were friends and would get along, but he's the sassiest man you've ever met and just gets on your nerves. you just want to kill him.

some time has passed by and the crew came back. you were still reading your book, laying your head on robin's legs as she sunbathed.

"hey, uhm... i didn't know zoro and you were together..." usopp says awkwardly, approaching you as robin coughs in disbelief.

"we're not." you stand up, angry. "what is that stupid vegetable slicer saying now?"

"no! nothing! is just... franky and i found a kid... and he's... claiming to be your son..." you gag.

"MY WHAT?!" you hear zoro yelling and soon coughing desperately.

"where is he?" you ask the sharpshooter who points to the entrance. the green-haired kid looks so timid. he's just standing there, looking at every part of the ship. you approach him calmly, bending a bit so you can talk better to him. "hey, kid!" you offer him a smile and he can't help but feel calmer.

"hi, mom..." he answers in a low voice, still shy.

"why don't you say your name and we get to meet the others, huh? so you can tell us more about what's going on. do you know what's going on?" he looks into your eyes and advert his gaze again.

"something like that..." he plays with his fingers before answering your first question. "my name is roronoa koro." your eyes widen a bit, you can't hide your surprise.

"so you're really the kid of that stupid man..." you murmur and he nods.

"i swear he gets more likeable in the future." koro says, earning a warmful giggle from you. seeing his mother never fails to calm him.

"i rather see it myself." you offer your hand to him, who holds it without even thinking. "let's see the others."

as you walk hand-in-hand with koro, getting closer to the crewmates, they couldn't believe what their eyes were just seeing.

zoro's jaw fell on the ground. how- how can he have a child? with... you?

the little kid gasps immediately once he sees the swords zoro is carrying. he runs to his father and try to touch the the swords, but the grumpy swordsman doesn't let him to.

"what you think you doing?" he asks, holding the kid's head so he couldn't get closer.

"do you use them often?" the boy asks, curiosity dripping from his eyes.

"of course, i use them often. why wouldn't i?"

"well, currently, the three swords are untouched, held by a support in the living room's wall..." the little roronoa answers, trying to touch them at all costs. "let me see it!"

"no, you won't touch it!" zoro insists.

a loud noise was heard by the crew. a tray with some snacks was splattered on the floor while sanji stood there, looking at the little mosshead in front of him.

"am i seeing it right?" the blond cook's eyes were wide open. "WHY IS THERE A LITTLE MOSSHEAD?"

"uncle sanji!" the little boy runs to his beloved uncle, who was left flabbergasted.

"you like him? he's a stupid cook!" the swordsman was at a loss of words.

"and so are you." sanji laughs his ass off. his eyes glossy because of the tears of joy. "seriously... i can't believe you had- well, you're gonna have kids with this idiot." he talks directly to you.

"trust me... i have no reasons to..."

"my favourite boy! tell me, kid, what do you wanna eat? i can prepare anything just for you." sanji talks to him, guiding koro to the kitchen. luffy is following them quietly until sanji yells at him so he scurries away.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ... ]

trying to know more about him and where he came from, zoro and you sit and talk to koro. you were lying on a wall, koro was by your side and zoro was in front of you.

"so, how did you come here?" you ask the boy.

"i don't know. last thing i remember i was sleeping, then i ended up at that weird place." your son explains. "the weirdest thing is... my sister was next to me... why she's not here too?" he sounded confused.

"wait... not only one but two kids with the mosshead? what did i do to deserve such a punishment?" you mumble.

"ha ha, like it's my dream to have kids with you." the swordsman hissed.

"not only two, but three. you're pregnant." you gag as you listen to his words.

"three..." you whisper, not believing a thing. "what's your thing, huh? three earrings, three swords, three kids. are you obsessed or something?" you yell at zoro who just smirks.

"might be my lucky number." he keeps that eat-shitting grin on that stupid pretty face while you die internally. "wait, you have a sister... what's her... name?"

"the one you fought mom to name her. kuina." koro's face lit up at the mention of his sister. he really loves his family.

that annoying grin zoro held up in his face was replaced by a genuine smile which made you smile along, happy. koro knew about the past of both his parents and was really proud of them.

"lord, please give me strenght..." you sigh. "well, i know it can be a bit... confusing not to call me mom, so you can keep it..."

"and you like it..." you son knows you too well no to notice it. doesn't matter what timeline he's at, you'll always be his favourite person.

"and i like it..." you smile, ruffling his short green hair. "okay, i'll try to find some way to send you back to your life. future me and... zoro... might be worried." you stand up, pecking his forehead and walk away.

"pleeease, let me see it! mom never lets me..." the little boy pouts, making grabby hands at his father as soon as you're out of sight. "please, dad!"

that word. that kid.

"fine. but only if you tell me some things. it'll be our... little dad and son secret." zoro suggests, knowing way too well his son wouldn't refuse.

"deal!" he answers excitedly while watching his father pull wado ichimonji from its sheath.

koro inspects the sword. his eyes are bright, sparkling like a starry sky. he's just like his father, a swords lover. even though his mother has forbidden him from using one. zoro has an amused look watching his little soon-to-be-swordsman.

"so... did i become the greatest swordsman?" he questions, seeing koro maneuvering his sword.

"yes, you defeated mihawk." the reply is short and simple due to the boy's concentration to something else.

zoro just celebrates, murmuring a few things, feeling like he's the strongest man alive.

"did future me teach you that well how to use a sword?"

"sure thing! despite mom's clear rule not to let me touch a sword 'til i was sixteen, you've started to teach me two years ago." the kid smiles.

"and... last thing... uhm... did future me ever tell you how i get your mom?" the swordsman looks a little hesitant, even more when he sees the knowing look koro was shooting at him.

"hate her my ass." the roronoa kid mumbles.

"hey!"

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤU S O P P

the moment he spotted you coming back with a child, he thought you've just kidnapped her, but as soon as he laid his eyes on the little girl, he thought it was too good to be just a joke. when the girl introduced herself, he couldn't help but smile and welcome her, loving the idea of being the father of such a cute girl.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ☆ ]

the crew were preparing to set sail. the island they docked at was way too small, so they hadn't much to do there. as soon as they've got everything they needed – or the island could provide – they'd get back to sailing.

yet, you were walking around the place, seeing some things, and if you liked it, you'd keep it.

you were standing at a fruit stall, hearing the seller babble about some rare golden fruit he just got from a distant island, but you knew it was just talking. you were distracted by your favourite fruit – which looked so pretty and delicious – that you didn't even notice a little girl running around.

"dada? dada!" she was screaming. she looked so terrified.

you turned around, seeing the kid crying. some people were trying to help her, some people were just ignoring her and passing by. but as soon as she spots you, she runs to you like you are her hope.

"mama!" she clutched to you and refused to let you go.

"oh! uhm... hey, baby... i'm- i'm not your mother, kid..." you tried to pry her off of you, but her grip was too strong.

"yes, you are! you're my mama! dada always talks about you and shows pictures of both of you. you are my mama!" she yells at you, not giving you space.

"okay, okay, let me see you, right?" she looked hesitant, but eventually she loosened her grip and looked up to you. she was so beautiful and reminded you of someone. "first, tell me your name, huh?" you knelt in front of her, taking her face in your hands.

"nyla..." the girl looks at you with such admiration.

"and where are your parents?" she frowned.

"you're here!" she insists, pouting when you refuse to be her mother. "you've met me! and dada might... be on the ship?"

"what?"

"the ship, mommy! can we go there, please?" her eyes were sparkling.

"fine..." you just accept. she streches her arms out to you, wanting to be as close as possible to you. you pick her up, heading to the sunny.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ... ]

"uhm... who's... that girl?" usopp asks as he's the first to spot you with a child in your arms.

"dada!" nyla is quick to let go of you and run to her father, who just stands there, looking shocked.

"HE'S YOUR FATHER?" you yell, as shocked as usopp.

"yes! and you're my mama! and i'm happy to be here!" she points and hugs usopp, who embraces her too.

nami shows up at the deck and frowns. "who-"

"our daughter." you just accepted. it looked so confusing and complicated, you just accepted.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ... ]

late at night, nyla wanted her father to sleep with both of you, but when you said usopp had to sleep in the boy's quarters, she sulked a bit, but eventually, accepted. it was clear to see that she was attached to you, like your shadow, or an extension of you.

"okay, so, i can stay just by the time you sleep, or else your mother throws me outta the ship." usopp explains casually, smiling, getting in the bed.

"right! i want mommy anyways!" she nuzzles her face in the crook of your neck while hugging you.

"see! i'm the favourite, hah!" you tease the sniper, who crosses his arms, sulking.

"that's not fair, nyla!" he tells her in a whining voice.

right after that, you can feel something wet on your neck and a sniffing.

"nyla, baby, why you're crying?" you push her a bit, trying to see her face. her eyes are red and wet, tears rolling down her cheeks nonstop.

"dada are you mad at me?" the little girl asks her father, whose eyes widen in surprise.

"no, no, i could never, love." he rushes to scoop her in his arms, calming her.

"i just wanna spend more time with mama..." her voice is muffled due to her face being pressed to usopp's chest.

"why that? i'll always be with you, huh?" you try to soothe her, but it doesn't, she sobs even more.

"i just have my dada now, mama. you're not there. i wanna spend more time with you because when i get back you won't be there..." you glanced at usopp, who looked even more panicked than you are.

"hey, come to mama..." you call her and nyla is quick to hug you. "don't think about that, okay? i'm here for you right now." you kiss her cheek, wiping her tears away. "and i won't leave by your side until is your time to get back to your life." she looked into your eyes, trying to catch every inch of your face so she can remember. "now let's sleep so tomorrow we can enjoy more!" she smiled.

"night momma, night dada!" nyla pecked yours and her father's cheek, then she closed her eyes, waiting for her time to be kissed.

usopp and you chuckled, leaning in to kiss both of her cheeks, making her giggle happily.

"night, baby girl." usopp sang, caressing her hair.

you closed your eyes, getting yourself comfortable to sleep and usopp stayed there, just like he said. well, is not like he'll get any sleep that night, after all, now he knows he has a daughter with the woman of his dreams, but she's not there.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤS A N J I

the moment he saw a little girl looking for her parents, he'd be stunned. he could clearly see some of your traits on her face, just like your smile – the thing he adored the most about you. but he'd be confused asf, because who's that girl? when she finally introduces herself, saying she's the daughter of blackleg sanji and you, he'd faint. has... his dream just come true?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ☆ ]

you were in the kitchen with sanji. since the others have just gone to explore the new island, someone had to watch the ship, and you offered to do that. the cook, not missing an opportunity, said he'd be with you, after all, he couldn't let a delicate flower like you alone at an unknown place, right?

at the moment, sanji is cooking like always. he's making some kind of dessert he refuses to tell what it is.

"sanji, are you sure it doesn't contain anything i'm allergic to?" you ask, trying to peek at some of the ingredients.

"please, my swan, i'm not some kind of inexperienced chef, am i? i would never cook something you're allergic to. now, please, take a seat and be ready, i'm almost done." he says and you do, taking your seat and preparing yourself. sanji turns around, placing the plate with the colourful dessert in front of you. "et voilà! hope you like it!"

"i always appreciate your cooking." and you take a little bite. your eyes roll in pleasure. you're so lucky to have a sous chef in your crew.

sanji just looked at you in awe. he could move a mountain if it meant he could get you smiling.

"excuse me!" an unknown voice shouted from afar. you shoot a glance at the cook who is doing just the same.

"can't believe i'm being interrupted..." you murmur, taking another bite before heading to the deck with sanji following you.

there you were welcomed by a girl. her blue dress was a little dirty and you wondered if she has fallen.

"can we help you?" the blond cook asked her in a soft voice.

"uhmm... yes..." she looked a little hesitant. "i know it may sound a bit... unusual, but... my name is heaven and... i'm your daughter..." she avoided your gaze.

a loud thump was heard and you looked at your side. sanji has just fainted.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ... ]

caught by some headache, sanji woke up. he was lying on the hammock...? but, i was on the deck...? well, he had some kinda dream. not weird, but the perfect dream! that might be the reason for that headache.

hearing distant voices, he waltzed through the ship, going to the kitchen. there, he could see you and the same girl in his dream!

"what?" he mumbles. heaven notices him and signs to you.

"oh, sanji, dear, come here!" you called him so excited he couldn't refuse – not like he would do it anyways. he always does what you say. "do you remember what heaven said?" you ask carefully.

"uhm... she's our daughter...?" the cook says hesitantly, afraid that what he has heard was just a dream.

"yess!" you squeal.

the girl seemed so amused. getting to know her parents when they're not even together yet. in her timeline, they're so in love with each other and her and... now... her mother seems so clueless or just... don't wanna know about him. after all sanji is a womanizer (for now).

"so it's true! hah! i thought it was just a dream, but is true!" now is his time to squeal and that makes heaven smile.

"it's different to see you like that..." the girl points out. "you know... having your hair hiding your eye."

"uhm..." he clears his throat. "it's just part of my style."

"i like your curly brows, dad!" she smiled and that alone would make sanji smile too, but the way she called him, it warmed his heart.

"okay, sanji, we've got you're excited to know you have a daughter-" you start, but he interrupts.

"with you! the most amazing woman i've ever got to know!" he bats his lashes, smiling widely.

"yeah... with me... but we need to know how to send her back to her timeline. she can't be here. she's not supposed to be here. future you and me might be worried... mainly you." you explain and he quickly gets to hug the girl, who appreciates her father's gesture.

"but she's our daughter! would you do that?!" he sounds so desperate, you may just slap him.

"yeah! but only in the future! it'll just mess up our time! maybe we don't even get together anymore."

"okay, kid! see you in the future." he immediately walks away from her, but quickly runs back, clinging to her. "but we can keep her while we don't find a way to send her back, right?"

"yeah! can i?" she joins her father, pouting and batting her lashes.

"fine! you didn't even need to do all that! what would i do to you if not keep you? throw you at the sea?" you ask in disbelief.

"he's the one most likely to get thrown..." heaven points to sanji.

"hey!"

"let's just wait for the crew and give 'em some good news." you smile, watching sanji and heaven get along well.

@LOLASKY ᡣ 𐭩 actually i've wrote sanji's part with the live action sanji in mind. idk he just looks so more mature... actually the live action characters in general!! but yeah wtv- dividers and template by @/cafekitsune

#one piece imagine #zoro x reader #one piece x reader #one piece x you #luffy x reader #sanji x reader #usopp x reader #one piece scenario #one piece headcanons #monkey d. luffy #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #usopp

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igotanidea · 3 months

Text

Almost there: Anthony Bridgerton x reader

part 1: Too much

part 2 : Not enough

***

„One of those days you will get us both in trouble, Eloise.”

Due to some miracle, Y/N and her second-in-age sister in law managed to escape the watchful gaze of all, lady Danburry, Violet and Daphne, and rushed forward on the promenade. It was generally frowned upon, that the married lady strolled in the presence of a girl, who wasn’t even a débutante yet, but neither of those two seemed to take much interest in ton’s opinion.

“Trouble from merely speaking the truth?”

“Shall I remind you that this virtue is long forgotten in the society full of hypocrisy and deceit?” Y/N whispered taking Eloise’s arm to at least keep the pretences of being discreet. It would be unwise to let anyone else eavesdrop on the little exchange of words between close friends.

“It’s almost like you don’t trust me, my dear sister-in-law.” Eloise chuckled feigning the pompous tone.

“Please don’t ever call me like that again. You were my friend before you were my family. Don’t put the distance between us now. ”

“If anything I’d dare say I’m the reason you met with Anthony and –“ the sentence was cut out abruptly, as Eloise realised that Y/N was currently in the middle of a heavy argument with her husband. An argument that made her flee the house and turned out on the doorstep on the other Bridgerton’s house announced, in search for a friendly soul to talk to. And now she actually realised that all that may have been her fault from the beginning. If Y/N and Anthony have never met, they never would have fought and never—

“Stop overthinking it, dear.” The current viscountess chuckled observing her friend’s slightly hazy gaze and recognising it instantly. Clearly Eloise was getting lost in her own head.

‘Do not call me that!” the girl’s eyes became sharp and conscious again “I can hardly stand being called that affectionately by my mother, let alone by you.”

“Worked just as planned though.”

“Well, my biggest congratulations on being effective in the matter. You are almost as good at me with it.”

“Oh, almost? From what I can recollect I taught you most of those tricks.” Y/N smiled brightly.

“Really?” Eloise raised an eyebrow “I can’t remember. Hey what do you say we run away from our chaperones and have a proper, meaningful discussion on what’s troubling you?”

“I wish it was that easy. But I’m a wife now and apparently –“

“Viscountess Bridgerton!” a sudden voice came from in front of them and Y/N felt like actually taking Eloise advice and rushing off. It was almost like the whole world decided to prey on her misery on that particular day. First lady Danburry, now lady Featherington. “How lovely to see you! Marriage serves you well. You are beaming, dear.”

Y/N gritted her teeth in hardly hidden annoyance at such obvious show of nosiness and lack of tact. She knew instantly that she had to cut the conversation short before another wave of unwanted questions about her blessed (or not) state would come.

‘Lady Featherington. Pleasure to see you there. Are your daughters accompanying you or are they occupied with their upcoming prenuptial agreements? I surely hope they would be as fortunate with their future husbands as I am with mine. And speaking of which, if you excuse me, I need to discuss a very urgent matter on the subject with my family.”She put an emphasis on two last word and not waiting for response, abandoning all the rules of the lady behaviour, tried to drag Eloise away almost sighing deeply in frustration.

„Oh, but viscountess, once Penelope weds Colin, we will be a family.” lady Featherington stopped both girls in their tracks before they managed to escape.

„I beg your pardon, what now?”

‘Oh, you didn’t know, viscountess? Your brother-in-law is about to marry my youngest daughter. By some miracle, clearly, since Penelope--” Portia started rambling without a care in the world.

„Oh I know about that part.” Y/N faked a smile that didn’t reach her eyes „I merely have the deep conviction that us becoming family is rather an improbable claim.”

„But--”

„Dearest lady Featherington, do not push my hand here. I would rather stay in amity with you. A very fragile alliance shall you pry into my private matters. I dare say you have a certain interest in using those bold statements? ”

„I beg your pardon?”

„The viscount, is still in the charge of his famliy’s - our family’s finances. And that shall include the future fortune of Colin. Shall you insist on intruding me during my leisure time I might have a word with my husband.”

„You truly do not disgrace yourself with being modest, do you, Y/N? Has social advancement changed you so much? I clearly remember you being a scrawny child with no aspiration and position and look at you now. A snake in a sparkish dress.”

„She can at least choose the colour that highlights her beauty and doesn't make her look like--”

„Thank you Eloise.” Y/N cut her off before she could cause some more havoc. Lady Featherington was an onerousness but her gossiping nature was something Y/N did not need in the current situation. „I shall believe lady Portia will keep our little conversation in mind for the future purposes. Hers and her daughter’s.

„Actually if the viscount is around --”

„Unfortunately, matters of utmost importance kept him at home today.” Y/N responded with the most patience she could gather at the moment. There was always a possibility of farewelling the unwanted company, but as previously stated - there was no need of spreading the rumours of some discrepancies between the newlyweds. This hydra had to be beheaded immediately before the news spread throughout London.

„Such a shame you were left to tend for yourself then viscountess.”

„I shall believe I’d receive the most warm welcome back once my husband free himself of all the duties and occupations.”

***

While Y/N was having a lively discussion with indefatigable Portia Featherington, someone was observing her closely from behind the tree, staying unnoticed themselves.

“Are you spying on her now?”

“I’m not spying!”

“Oh really? Then tell me brother, why on Earth would you hide in the bush instead of accompanying your wife on the promenade? If I were you –“

“Good thing you are not.” Anthony muttered grumpily keeping his eyes fixed on his wife’s silhouette. Even with her cheeks reddened from the indignation and eyes sparkling with cunning intelligence she was the most beautiful woman he has ever laid his eyes on. If anything, those characteristic may have only been adding to her charm.

he viscount may not have heard all the words exchanged between two ladies, but the way Y/N was keeping lady Portia at bay, standing her own ground and not wavering in the slightest was admirable and worthy of a viscountess. Serving as a reminder that his wife was not a fragile bird who was - in his opinion- in dire need of his protection and care, but rather a capable, strong woman, who would survive on her own.

Which brought him to another conclusion - that she didn’t rely on him as much as he expected her to. That she was proud enough to get the audacity to leave his home, leave him and decided (solely by herself!) to pay a visit to his sister.

“If I were you—“ Benedict grinned mischievously “I would run and drag Y/N away from Eloise before those two officially call you an idiot and make a plan for Y/N to leave you for good.” apparently the second son was capable of reading his older brother’s mind and pointing out all the worries that were already inside viscount’s head

“She would never.”

“I am unaware of the scope of your failure, but given the fact your wife rushed to Eloise, out of all the people must have been immense.”

“That’s it!’ Anthony hissed, almost crawling out from behind the tree, ready to clear this misunderstanding immediately.

***

„Oh, my dear!” Lady Featherington placed her hands on her hips as if she wanted to emphasize her higher position and knowledge of male-female relations. „Do not occupy yourself with the romance fantasies. Courtship is gone once the knot is tied. And after a child is born--” her gaze landed on Y/N’s stomach „you put all the efforts into keeping the family afloat and secure the future of the offspring.”

„I believe--”

„Viscountess, you are so young. So naive and innocent. Fed on the novels and stories.”

„Most of which cover the topic of history, literature and medicine rather than Shakespeare plays.” now the young woman was getting angry her cheeks flushing „topics which I boldly presume are far from your interest.”

„I beg your-”

„I kindly forgive you, lady Featherington. Now if you excuse us - I shall wish you a good day.”

„I am not--”

„Lady Featherington.”

The sudden deep voice coming from behind made all the ladies turn around at once.

„Viscount.” Portia bowed slightly „I was just having a little chat with your wife.”

„Educating her on the specificity of marital relations?”

„Giving her some of the knowledge that her prematurely deceased mother - God rest her soul - did not have the opportunity to teach her”

„How kind of you.” Anthony almost smirked and Y/N had to muffle the chuckle forming in the back of her throat looking down. It was like she saw the old him. „However I suppose that once I am here, you shall be free of your educative duties?”

„I--”

„do not preoccupy yourself my lady. My wife shall not lack the company from now on.” having said that, Antony walked right to Y/N offering her an arm and - a sight truly unexpected - bid the older lady goodbye while leading the viscountess away.

„I didn’t need you to save me.”

„such a shame I happened to be around then.”

„My undoing indeed.”

„Unforunate event that you might have to keep the externals for the duration of a stroll.” Anthony held her tighter and closer to him while nodding head to the acquaintance.

***

„Did you gather some intel on the current situation of our brother and his lovely wife?” Benedict, who followed the two of them without any hesitation, asked Eloise.

„I am Y/N’s confidante, I shall never-”

„You cannot trick me sister.”

„Anthony is an idiot.”

„I had quite a feeling you would say something like that. Now- shall we interfere or remain passive observers as Antony makes a fool of himself begging for her forgiveness?”

Eloise smirked as they continued their following.

She and Benedict always understood each other without words.

Edit: part 4 Stuck

@pietrawebster @chrissisheadisinclouds @fuzzym4m4 @gloomysel @urfavnoirette @dd122004dd @milkbummm @bevstofu @taniasethi @syraxnyra @christinabae @pandoraneverland @bevstofu @topguncultleader @jana-jaeynneee @myaa21212121 @ziarah @cat-lockwood @leaf-rose-thorn @elissanatok @lily3450 @nervousmumbling @cat-lockwood @pr3ttyfac3jaelyn

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fic #bridgerton angst

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fangswbenefits · 10 months

Text

A Series of Firsts

𓂅 𓄹 Summary: You and Miguel are ready to become parents and you must now go through a series of firsts together.

𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

No warnings. Just pure fluff. Mentions of pregnancy. Dad girl Miguel. Protective dad Miguel.

First Kick

“What colour should we have on the walls?” Miguel asked one day.

“Beige?”

“Boring.”

“Red?”

“Too much.”

“Red and blue?”

“That’s too… spidey.”

You giggled at his remark. “We’ll just pick a neutral one and let her decide as she grows up.”

“That’s settled, then,” he murmured, resting the side of his head on your baby bump as both of you lay comfortably on the bed.

“Fingers crossed for a zebra pattern in purple and green,” you teased.

“She can have whatever she wants,” he said simply and you knew he meant it.

Warmth spread in your heart, realising Miguel would give her anything she’d ask for. Even the moon.

As you rolled a single strand of his hair around your finger, you gasped abruptly and halted.

Miguel shot up straight in full alert mode. “What is it? Are you okay?”

You nodded, running both hands along your belly, waiting to feel it once more.

He immediately picked up on the meaning of your sudden silence and placed a splattered hand next to yours.

It didn’t take long for a second kick to be felt and you watched his face awe. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” you whispered adoringly at his concern.

He paused briefly. “That was a strong kick.”

You placed your hand atop his. “She’ll take after you, then.”

First Time Meeting

Jessica placed the little bundle of joy into his arms as soon as the spider-nurses were done checking the vitals and dressing her.

“What is this?” Miguel asked with a light scowl, shifting to have the sleeping baby face you.

Even through your post-labour exhaustion you managed to giggle.

She was dressed in a red and blue suit-like onesie that had Peter’s face printed onto the fabric as rainbow coloured words read ‘my 1st spider suit’.

“Remind again me why we let him choose.”

“You know how Peter is,” you said softly. “It’s a very cute gift.”

“Right.”

Miguel didn’t seem all that convinced, but brought her back against his chest protectively.

You watched as Miguel’s hardened face immediately softened in adoration and, for a couple of minutes, he just stood there, rocking her lightly in his arms.

“She’s… tiny,” he concluded, fingers probing around her hand. “She’s perfect.”

He raised her slowly up to his face and he planted a soft kiss to her forehead, earning a sudden yawn.

“Welcome home,” he whispered to her, completely transfixed. “I’ll always protect you.”

Something inside you stirred. This big grumpy man with volatile moods had just been disarmed by a tiny baby.

That was definitely a sight to behold.

First Sleepless Night

“We’re not having another baby.”

“Agreed.”

“Ever.”

Miguel let out a measured sigh in agreement. “Ever.”

The two of you lay sprawled across the large bed, facing the ceiling as the first rays of sunshine began to lit up the room.

Your daughter had finally fallen asleep after hours of fighting against it, nearly driving both of you crazy in the process.

As you readied yourself to slide off the mattress, you felt Miguel’s hold on your wrist stilling you.

“Don’t move,” he whispered. “Please.”

You groaned inwardly. “I need to go pee, Miguel.”

Sleepy and bloodshot eyes met yours. “It took us hours to drain her energy… hold it in for a while,” now that was a desperate tone if you’d ever heard one from him.

You heaved a long and heavy sigh, feeling his thumb gently rubbing at your pulse point in sheer gratitude.

“Yup. No more babies, O’Hara.”

“Maybe one more?”

You shot him a death glare and he swallowed hard.

“… or not.”

First Scare

You paced around the apartment, having already lost count of the amount of baby monitors that Miguel had spread all over the place.

“This is a bit too much, no?”

Miguel was checking on the sleeping baby through the orange-tinted screen of his dimensional travel watch when he turned to glare at you like you had just said the most abominable thing ever.

“You can never be too careful,” he said in disbelief.

It was to be expected, really. Miguel was always obsessed with security no matter the context, so you couldn’t really say this surprised you.

“Even the watch?” you asked in awe.

“Of course. It’s a looped system that transmits directly to both our watches,” he said with a nod. “Any alteration in her bedroom trigers an alarm.”

Ever the scientist.

His eyes dropped to the hologram on his wrist and he let out a gasp.

“What?”

“She’s gone!”

Your heart nearly collapsed as a feral Miguel immediately set himself on all fours towards her bedroom, clawing at floor.

“Miguel!” you called after him in a hurry.

Once you reached the open door, you were presented with Peter holding your daughter as Mayday chuckled happily, seated on his shoulder.

“Peter!” Miguel growled, yanking your daughter from his hold and bringing her close to his chest defensively.

“Miguel! We were just paying a visit,” he chuckled. “Cute baby, by the way,” he turned to you with a smile and a flick of his fingers.

But Miguel was having none of that. “Out!”

Mayday stuck out her tongue at him right away, a habit she had yet to let gonof whenever Miguel was around.

“Lyla, why wasn’t the alarm triggered?”

The AI appeared by his shoulder at once, filing her nails. “You forgot to activate the security system, boss.”

First Word

“Pa~pá! Say it. Paaa~pá!”

“Cheater!” you exploded as you entered the kitchen in large steps.

Miguel turned to face you as your daughter giggled.

“We promised to let it be something spontaneous,” you lifted an accusing finger at him. “Cheater!”

He lifted both hands defensively. “I’m just giving her some help.”

In truth, you weren’t upset with him in the slightest. He had been such a constanr presence in his daughter’s life even through an exhausting amount of work around Nueva York.

You feigned indignation crossing your arms across your chest.

Miguel picked her out of the baby chair and walked towards you with a tentative smile.

“I’m sorry.”

Your front broke right away as he leaned to nudge his forehead against yours. “You’re still a cheater,” you accused, not able prevent your lips from curling into a smirk.

“I’ll make it up to you.”

Your daughter started clapping enthusiastically. “Petaah~” and then burst into laughter.

Miguel looked down at her in shock. “What?”

It was almost comedic irony that the first word your daughter said was Peter, which had Miguel sulk for a couple of days.

First Steps

You missed kissing Miguel with no interruptions. Having some alone time in between taking care of your daughter was not easy to come by.

So whenever there was an opening, you’d both make it count.

He had your back pressed against the cold surface of the bedroom wall in no time, framing your face with both hands to deepen the searing kiss.

You melted into his touch right away, yearning for more.

Miguel broke the kiss momentarily to check his watch, panting lightly. “She’s still in the living room.”

You sighed in relief as he took your lips in his once more, hungrier this time. Both of your hands were resting on his firm chest, enjoying the way his muscles rippled under your touch.

Miguel hummed into you, swallowing your gasps and moans.

Your eyes were about to flutter shut when you detected movement out of the corner of your eye.

Panic took over and you immediately pushed Miguel away with a yelp.

Standing by the door was your daughter, gripping the frame with tiny hands, barely able to keep her balance.

Miguel offered her a kind smile. “Hey, you… come here.”

Your heart was hammering hard in your chest as you struggled to even your breathing.

She broke into an amused chuckle, wobbling in Miguel’s direction as he dropped to one knee. “Come here,” he encouraged.

But she would only take a couple of steps before her legs gave out under her to have her sit on the floor.

This was evidently very amusing as she kept trying to mimic her first attempt in between laughter

Miguel exchanged a proud smile with you and, for the first time in a long, you didn’t mind being interrupted.

Masterlist

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel ohara imagine #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara oneshot #spider man 2099 x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #atsv miguel

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cherryredcheol · 24 days

Text

just one secret

tldr: you know what they say about assuming... a/n: reader is referred to as she/her/wife. this is as angsty as i'll ever be (and this isn't angst)

“okay, just make sure she doesn’t find out. i don’t want her to know.”

you stopped dead in your tracks. you weren’t trying to spy on mingyu and his phone conversation, honest. you had just woken up from a very peaceful nap and the plan was to go beg mingyu to cook for you, or at least pay for take-out. your blood ran cold hearing mingyu on the phone in the living room. you didn’t keep secrets from each other. or at least you didn’t keep secrets from him. you were under the impression it went both ways but suddenly you’re not sure.

you knew you were jumping to conclusions. you’re not even sure what he was talking about. who he was talking about. it could be any other woman in his life, his sister or his mom. but how were you not supposed to spiral when you hear him whispering on the phone to god knows who about secrets? your stomach twisted uncomfortably. what were you going to-

“angel? you up? are you hungry?” mingyu was calling to you from the living room. he must’ve heard you down the hall. before you could even figure out what your next steps were going to be, he appeared in the doorway, backlit from the sunny windows, and you almost melted seeing him smile at you. but then that little voice in the back of your head reminded you mingyu was keeping secrets.

“who were you on the phone with?” you had to play it cool, not wanting to alert him of your suspicion. you didn’t want to accuse him of something that was nothing. the best course of action here was to let him tell you. ask a few leading questions and let him fill in the blanks. if it really was nothing, he’d tell you.

mingyu started walking towards you, holding his arms out for you. “it was no one, angel. are you hungry? i can cook or we can get take-out. what sounds good?” he had reached you at this point, wrapped you up in his arms where you stood stiff as a board.

your thoughts were racing. why didn’t he tell you who was on the phone? what was going on? why was mingyu keeping secrets?

“angel?” he peered down at you, clearly waiting for your answer.

you shook your head, clearing your thoughts, “i’ll eat whatever, gyu. i’m not picky.” you pulled yourself out of his arms, suddenly feeling suffocated by his embrace for the first time since you met him. “i’m going to shower real quick while we wait for dinner. okay?”

you didn’t even wait for his reply before you abruptly turned and went back into the bedroom you had just come from.

in the safety of the ensuite bathroom, you stripped and let your thoughts run wild as the shower warmed up. what was going on? things with mingyu had been so good for the last 3 years. you two were so in love, his members often complained about spending time with the two of you, citing nausea at the sight of mingyu’s lovesick eyes boring into yours.

you jumped when you heard a knock at the door.

“angel? can i come in?” you could hear the confusion in his voice. probably wondering why you had suddenly decided on a shower and not engaging in your usual bicker over what to eat for dinner. you two would go back and forth but mingyu always gave in to you, paying for your favorite take-out spot or cooking whatever you requested.

you didn’t want to alert him to your strange behavior, still not sure exactly what was going on, “yeah, come in.”

the door cracked open and he peeked his head in the steamy room, eyes searching yours for signs of what was wrong. he could sense it, of course he could.

he entered the room fully now, not reaching out to you, but fingers twitching at his sides begging to touch all your exposed skin. he stayed respectful though, eyes never leaving yours. “um, i ordered your favorite sushi. hope that’s okay.”

things were awkward, tense. “yeah. thanks.”

mingyu sighed, “angel, are you okay? things were okay before you took your nap. did something happen? can i fix it for you?” he was desperate for answers, hating this distance between you two suddenly. he’s not even sure what was going on, he just knew you were not okay.

you looked away from him, “yeah. i’m okay. just have a bit of a headache. i’m hoping this shower will help. thanks for ordering dinner gyu, i’ll be out soon.” you effectively ended the conversation, hoping he’d get the hint and leave.

he did. “okay, angel. love you,” he gave you one last lingering look before closing the door behind him.

you did everything you could to drag the shower out for as long as possible but you knew you were being a bit ridiculous. mingyu didn’t deserve the cold shoulder and you’re not even sure if he did anything beyond having a suspicious phone call. pulling one of his shirts on over your head, you decided it was time to face him. if you stewed in your thoughts any longer you were actually going to go crazy.

the first thing you noticed walking out of the bedroom was the darkness of the apartment. all the lights were off and the sun had set while you were in the shower. had he left?

“fuck!”

that one little word pulled you out of your spiral. he hadn’t left, just turned off all the lights? you were confused, wandering down the hall pausing in the doorway to the living room, yep, lights off in there too. as you reached the kitchen you saw mingyu hunched over the kitchen table, trying and failing to light a candle in the middle of the table. one of many candles he had lit, you realized as you looked around the room. there were little candles all over the room, a soft glow illuminating the dark space. you could see that the sushi had arrived and mingyu set the table, making for a much fancier take-out night than you usually had.

“hey,” you called from the doorway, softly to not scare the big, clumsy man holding a lighter above your dinner.

he jumped anyway, spinning around to see you. he was apprehensive, nervous energy pouring off of both of you as you eyed each other. neither of you wanted to upset the other, doing this delicate waltz around each other's feelings.

he smiled despite himself, “hey angel. feeling better?”

“what is all this?” you ignored his question, very confused as to what was going on.

his hand went to the back of his neck, suddenly feeling embarrassed about all the effort he went to, “well, you said you had a headache so i thought you might like softer lighting in the apartment so your eyes wouldn’t hurt from the overheads.”

you made him jump a second time when you burst into tears. mingyu stood there looking at you holding your face in your hands, sobs wracking your body, frozen for only a second before he jumped into action, crossing the room in long strides and holding you to his chest. you kept crying, the wet spot on his shirt growing larger and larger.

when your sobs turned to sniffles, he loosened his grip on you. pulling back only enough to look at your face.

“what is going on, angel? please tell me so i can help.” he was pleading with you, begging even. it hurt him to see you upset like this, especially because he didn’t know what was causing it.

you couldn’t look into his eyes, instead, you stared at his feet, clad in soft socks, one on either side of yours, caging you in. “why would you do all this for me when you’re keeping secrets?” you sniffled, tears pooling at your lash line, threatening to spill again.

mingyu blinked, confused, “what are you talking about? what secrets, angel?”

you still couldn’t look at him, “i heard you on the phone earlier. you said, ‘make sure she doesn’t find out.’ what did that mean? and when i asked you who it was you said it was no one. are you keeping secrets from me, gyu?” you felt so small in that moment. all the air around you still as you waited for his answer.

“angel,” he cooed at you. grabbing your chin and bringing your eyes up to meet his. “you heard me on the phone? that’s what you’ve been upset about this whole time? i didn’t even know you heard that.”

“you still have not answered my question, mingyu.”

he winced hearing you use his full name, “angel, i promise you i am not keeping secrets. well, just one. but i was going to tell you soon! it just wasn’t the right time.”

you tried to back out of his grip but his arms tightened around you, keeping you against him. “we promised not to keep secrets.”

he laughed, “i can’t exactly tell you about my plan to propose, can i?”

you went rigid, “you better not be fucking kidding, kim mingyu.”

“i’m not fucking kidding, angel. that was wonwoo on the phone earlier. he’s been keeping the ring hidden at his place for months. he’s dropping it off tomorrow and we had to coordinate when he could swing by because i didn’t want you to be here. didn’t want to ruin the surprise. guess that doesn’t matter anymore,” he laughed, squeezing you even tighter to him.

you suddenly felt very stupid. and so guilty. how could you wreck his surprise like this? you felt like crying, “i’m so sorry gyu. i shouldn’t have assumed and now i’ve ruined the whole thing.”

he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, “angel, you ruined nothing. you should’ve just asked me in the first place, though. could’ve saved yourself all this heartache.”

belly full of sushi, comfort show playing on the tv, mingyu by your side, you have never felt more content. you loved this man so much and you couldn’t wait to be his wife.

“wait, are you proposing tomorrow?”

#seventeen imagines #seventeen #seventeen fluff #mingyu #mingyu imagine #mingyu x reader #seventeen scenarios #mingyu scenario #svt #svt x reader #mingyu fluff #mingyu scenarios #mingyu imagines #seventeen x reader

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evie-sturns · 4 months

Text

𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐦 - 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

summary: you and chris havent seen eachother in a few weeks, he invites you round. watching a movie together in his living room, he starts getting touchy on, and around your thigh.

warnings: nsfw, smut, teasing, swearing.

------------------------------------------------------------

me and chris are keeping a safe distance on the couch a few inches away from eachother, awkwardly watching the movie.

its been a few weeks since ive seen him, he's really busy filming and traveling and he knows its had an impact on me, i mean we had an argument over the phone yesterday, so these past few hours with him have been as though we just met -

"chris you barely have time for me anymore! ive started every conversation, me. and youve ended them." i yell through the phone on the brink of tears as he sighs deeply. "yeah y/n sorry im busy, sorry you're to blind to see that." he bites back through the phone. i assume the last thing he heard was my muffled sob before i hung up.

abruptly a sex scene flashes onto the tv, chris's breath hitches in his throat as he wipes his face. the actor on the screen reminds me of chirs, how he fucks, how his hair flops with each thrust. its turning me on.

i squeeze my thighs together, trying to relieve the ache thats forming between my legs. i see chris's eyes quickly dart over to me then to his lap. i rub my eyes as i try to distract myself.

without warning i feel chris's cold hand meet with my warm thigh, tracing circles on it. he knows what hes doing. his hand slide closer to just under my skirt, i feel just the tips of his fingertips graze the edge of my panties as he keeps rubbing my thigh. i accidentally let out a barley audible moan. chris digs his fingers slightly harder into my thigh as his pinky finger grazes my clit. "chris-.." i whisper "shh baby, you wouldnt want to miss the movie." he says teasingly as his hand creeps further up my thigh, by now my skirt has flipped up from chris's hand traces the waistband of my panties.

he rests one finger lightly on my clit, and i buck my hips up, trying to get more pressure. he rubs small circles on my clit, still not applying enough pressure. i let out a shaky breath as i try not to make noises. a large damp spot forms in the middles of my panties as he keeps circling my clit. "i cant.." i groan as i grip his dark-grey shirt and squirm on the couch. he grips my hand which is gripping his shirt and he moves it off of him. he places my hand on my breast. "more-.." i manage to squeeze out and thats enough for him to take his hand away from the outside of my panties. he grips my thigh and flips me over, im facing the headrest of the couch as he lifts me onto his lap. "fuck i missed this." he groans as he yanks my shirt off of me, discarding it somewhere across the room. i pull down his sweatpants just enough for his cock to spring out onto his happy trial.

his tip instantly becomes more red as my finger rubs his precum into his tip. without warning he stands up, keeping me propped up on his chest my my ass. he walks us over into his bedroom, which he clearly cleaned before i came over. he throws me down on his mattress pinning my hand above my head as he pulls my panties off, shoving them in his sweatpants pocket. "ya ready?" he says quietly as he pulls down his sweatpants a little more. "just go slow at first chris.." i say nervously "gotcha, its been a while so it might hurt a little." he reassures as he pushes his tip inside of me.

i instantly wince at the stretch as he pushes further inside of me. i grip his shirt for the second time tonight as he starts slowly thrusting, getting deeper each time. i let out loud moans "fuck baby, your so tight." he whispers into my ear as he picks up his thrusts. "im gonna c-" i warn "not yet baby." he says sternly as he thrusts deeper and faster "fuck not gonna last long with you clenching like that." he stutters as he goes faster.

"go on baby cum now, cum with me." chris says shakily as i instantly realease all over him "good girl oh my god.." he says pulling out and collapsing next to me. after a few minutes of laying in silence he stands up, pulling up his sweatpants. he picks me up and throws me over his shoulder, my bare ass against his cheek.

i flail my arms and legs while laughing "chris!! put me down!" i giggle as he takes me into the bathroom. he bends down with all my weight on him and turns on the bath, once its full he gently places me inside the water.

"you're so pretty." Chris says breathlessly as he stares down at me.

--------------︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵-----------

yuuup hope yall liked this!

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

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20-th-centurygirl · 5 months

Text

work for it

jude bellingham x reader

a/n: based on this because i can't get over it

summary: jude slides into your dms and what follows is something you could have never imagined

navigation masterlist

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

instagram:

judebellingham started following you

surely not? why was the jude bellingham following you??

yourusername added to their story

↳ judebellingham: 😍😍

yourusername: hello 🤨

judebellingham: hey

judebellingham: just wanted to say i think you're gorgeous

yourusername: thank you 🫶

judebellingham: anytime

you couldn't actually believe what you were seeing. jude bellingham calling you gorgeous? what sort of dream were you living in? you tried not to get too excited, you'd heard all about his reputation and he'd probably never give you a second thought. but you were wrong.

2 days later

instagram

judebellingham: hey

judebellingham: how are you doing

yourusername: i'm doing great

yourusername: how are you doing? i saw your last few madrid games and you played great

judebellingham: thanks. i'm good

judebellingham: maybe you should come to a game one day 😉

the next 6 months that followed were a dream. you'd exchanged phone numbers with jude a month after your first conversation and you'd spoken every day since. you'd congratulated him after every win and comforted him after every loss. facetiming eachother became your nightly routine and you couldn't believe how lucky you were.

but you tried to take it all with a grain of salt. jude had a reputation of being a player, something you already knew and had been reminded of by your friends. you were more than a fuck and you wanted jude to know that.

jude: hey love

jude: i've got a big game and i was wondering if you want to come and then stay over with me for a few days? i really wanna see you again

you: i'll try to come but i don't know if i'll be able to get the time off

jude: just let me know so i can get enough tickets x

you didn't really know how to react. you loved meeting jude for the first time, but the idea of going over to stay with him scared you. you'd started to really like jude, and worried that he only wanted to get you to come over to him so sleep with you.

you knew all about his reputation, and you didn't think you knew him well enough so you slowly distanced yourself from jude.

jude: can you come? we haven't spoke in a few days and i need to know

you: i can't come sorry. the next weeks just super busy for me :(

the following week consisted of you and jude barely speaking. you felt bad about it, you didn't mean to upset him but you didn't want to get your hopes up. you'd heard about footballers and the way they had casual hookups then ignored girls. you didn't want that. you were worth more than that and you didn't want to get hurt by jude because he didn't have the same intentions as you.

but jude was on the exact same page as you. he didn't understand why you'd just basically disappeared, had he done something wrong? did he make you feel like he was rushing you? he'd tried to call you, but you didn't answer, instead texting him a simple "sorry i've been busy lately" and leaving him alone.

at first jude tried to appreciate that you were just abit busy. he knew you cared alot about your studies and work and were independent, but he couldn't help feeling a bit hurt. nothing in your routine had actually changed, and jude had started to get the impression you were ignoring him on purpose.

you wouldn't answer his calls and barely texted him, so he decided to come to you. he messaged one of your closest friends that he'd met before and asked her to help him suprise you.

the pounding on your door abruptly woke you up, and you swung it open with a scowl on your face until you saw who was behind it. your eyes locked with judes, and you couldn't actually believe he was infront of you holding the biggest bunch or roses you'd ever seen.

jude's heart melted at the sight of you. your hair messy, a duvet wrapped about you and a tired grin on your face. "jude?"

"hi" his voice was shakey but he smiled widely regardless.

"what're you doing here? come in you're gonna get ill"

he stepped in, shutting the door behind him but he didn't dare move any further. "i'm sorry. if you want me to leave i will but i just wanted to see that you were ok. we've suddenly just stopped speaking and i was worried that i pressured you. i'm sorry if i made you think i was pushing you to get too serious to fast. i just really like you"

"seriously?"

"yes"

"jude i'm so sorry. i didn't wanna upset you i just got scared. i know all about footballers reputations and yours and i just didn't wanna be another girl that you just sleep with then ignore" you felt mean saying it. super mean.

"what? look i've done that before but you're so so different. everything about you is so perfect. your laugh, your eyes, how kind you are, the way you always see the best in people. i've known you for six months but i feel like i've known you all my life. you're literally perfect. i'm sorry if i made you feel like i didn't see you that way. i will do whatever it takes to prove to you how much you mean to me" he brought his hands up to cup your cheeks and you leaned into them, the warmth of his palms and his words making love wash over you.

"i really really like you jude" you mumbled, and he grinned wide "good cause i really really like you too"

"y'know, if you can still get me tickets i'll come to your matches"

"don't feel like you have to baby"

"i do. i want us to spend more time together jude"

he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you. "d'ya wanna go and get breakfast tomorrow? it can be our first proper date" he lightly pinched your side, melting when he felt a smile form on your face. "i'd like that"

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham fic #football imagine #football one shot #footballer drabble #footballer imagine

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cosmos-coma · 3 months

Text

My Sun, My Star- Part 2

A/N: Thank you all SO MUCH for your great comments on part one. I couldn't have asked for a better crowd to receive my work! Because so many people asked for it I've finally written a part 2! I honestly can't tell how good it is any more cause I've probably read it through 12 times in the last two days lol, so enjoy!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 7476 (whoops)

Warnings: Pregnant reader, Otherwise GN reader (no pronouns), Occasional use of "Y/n", Injury, Bucky's kind of an ass when hes upset (but redeemable), arguing.

Summary: Bucky finds out that you met the Winter Soldier and he is Not happy.

Part 1 | Part 3 | Epilogue | Bucky Masterlist

Like what I do? buy me a Coffee!

________

“Doll…?” you heard the familiar voice call, rough and gritty from its recent use but still carrying that same soft tone he used with you.

Your heart swelled as you lowered your hand from your face “Bucky...?”

He looked tired, so so tired. What was once sweet blue eyes were now diluted with exhaustion, no longer the brisk gaze you had learned to find comfort in. But still, a smile of relief eased onto your features at the mere sight of him and slowly the spark in his eyes began to return.

“Bucky!” You rushed to the thick door separating you, your hands eagerly jiggling the locked knob as you tried to get in. All you wanted to do was hold him, to hold his face, his hands; you wanted to feel and squeeze all of him just to know that he was truly back.

“Sheesh, hold on!” Tony complained, “At least let us take the wiring off first, we can’t have you coming in and messing up- hey! HEY, stop smudging the glass!” Tony shouted as he worked quickly to detach the wires of various machines from his head.

Bucky laughed a bit as he sat up carefully, rolling the pain out of his shoulders and arms when something didn’t feel right. He winced as he felt his soft shoulder complain against the movements and looking over he spotted the bandage taped tight to his skin- a small dot of blood peeking through the solid white; before he could ask about it Tony was already sending a technician to unlock the door.

“Alright, alright, we’re opening the door, stop your jiggling…” the billionaire griped.

As soon as you saw your opening you ran straight for him, your leg be damned as you stumbled into his waiting arms, “Bucky, my heart...” you whispered with relief as you hugged him as close as you possibly could. It was times like these when you cursed your body’s rotund transformation as it refused to let you get that much closer to him. But none of it mattered as his strong arms wrapped around you in turn, flooding you with the familiar scent and warmth of his amber-like musk.

“Hey, Doll…” The super soldier rasped softly in your ear, his voice still a little rough from the muffled shouts of pain just minutes before. His brow tightened and he held in a wince at the impact of your hug, refusing to let you see him falter as pain jolted his shoulder.

“What are you still doing up?” he asked with a smile, the roughness finally easing away and slipping back into the smooth rumble of his natural voice. His eyes trailed down your face and body, stopping abruptly at the bandage wrapped around your calf. He frowned as his brows creased together uneasily, “What happened to your leg? Who-” he started to ask, but before he had a chance to finish Tony interrupted with his usual reminders.

“Alright, I’m sure you remember-” He paused a moment, shrugging, “well, maybe- that although you may not remember anything now, it should all come back over time,” Tony said as he typed updates into Bucky’s file. “Given that this wasn’t a very long recession- just a few hours- you should remember everything in a couple of days,” he decided with a firm nod, looking over to the disheveled man. “Do you remember anything from last night?”

Bucky shook his head, “I remember the basement and the flashing lights…I remember following Sam back out to the jet, but it starts getting fuzzy there,” he said as he ran his fingers through his hair. His mind was exhausted from switching back and forth and he really didn’t have the energy to delve into it much longer. “I think I remember coming back to the tower, but it’s not clear.”

“Hm, Interesting,” Tony remarked as he typed in a few more long lines into the already lengthy files. Bucky couldn’t quite make out the words on the pages and pages of information on himself and the Winter Soldier, but then again, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know anyway.

“Well,” continued Tony, looking at you now, “seeing as I’ve heard that your front door is in a state of disrepair-”

“-Kicked in,” you corrected swiftly, making Bucky’s concern rise.

“Semantics, ” Tony disregarded with a wave of his hand, “-you two are welcome to stay in the tower until we get it fixed. Barnes’ old room is still open; I trust you two remember the way there?”

----

You stepped into Bucky’s old room, a few personal items still scattered around here and there, but barely anything significant. Strong arms snaked around your waist, careful of your belly as they pulled you close against their firm frame.

Soft laughter bubbled from your chest as you gazed up at him, your head leaning back against his solid build, “Just like old times, huh?” You mumbled happily as you rubbed your hand up and down his forearms.

“Mmm, back when I used to sneak you into the tower every other night?” his body rumbled with a gentle laugh, remembering the fond moments. The two of you lingered in the peaceful space for a moment, both of you happy to have finally put the stress of the past few hours behind you. Large hands smoothed down your rounded belly, inching the fabric of his sweatshirt up so he could feel his little girl properly.

You hummed softly, contentment easing into your every pore as you let out a big yawn. You were finally feeling the full weight of the day and you wanted nothing more than to collapse onto the small mattress. You pulled back, bringing his knuckles up for a quick kiss as you stepped away, “I’m gonna get ready for bed. I’m beat…we both are,” you said with a gentle pat to your belly.

Bucky nodded as he watched you leave his arms, your gait just slightly uneven as you tried to hide the extent of your limp, “Doll…” he called, causing you to glance back.

“You never answered me earlier. What happened to your leg? And what did Stark mean by our door being broken in…?” he asked, watching closely as you stood with your back to him. Your shoulders tensed the slightest bit as he asked, your gaze turning away as you searched desperately for the right way to tell him.

“I… It was an accident….” you said, trying to ease him into it as you started explaining from the beginning “I was at home in bed when-” You started, but he had already begun connecting the dots. The basement, the blood, the lapse in memory, only to finally find himself awake in Tony’s lab? It was all too familiar.

“You met him, didn’t you?” He asks quietly, “The Winter Soldier….” The room went silent as you hesitated to answer, only the tremble of your beating heart to be heard in your ears, but it was all the reply he needed.

He could feel the growing heat of anger simmer beneath his skin. He had failed you- he couldn’t frame it in any other way. He had tried so hard for so many years to keep you from meeting him, to keep you safe, and now- in your most vulnerable state- he had failed. Deep in his heart, he knew he was only angry with himself, but knowing it still didn’t seem to stop the way his words bubbled over and burned, “Why didn’t you tell me? Did he do this to you?” He pointed at your bandage, his anger was simmering into a rolling boil when it suddenly crashed into an icy panic.

“Shit, did he-” He gulped and continued with the faintest shuddering his breath, “Did he try to…? ” He couldn’t even finish the sentence, the thought too scary to speak into existence as his hand fell to your bump in worry. As an assassin his targets had always been adults in the past; would the Winter Soldier really target a child? Bucky couldn’t say for certain either way and that was enough for him to worry.

“What...? Bucky, no. He would never-“

“Do not tell me what he would and would not do, Y/n,” he seethed, using your name for the first time in what felt like forever. You had always been his doll….

“You think I don’t know the things he’ll do? You think I don’t see them again and again at night? No one is an exception to him, not even you-“

“But I-“

“And if you truly believe that-” his voice grew lower, his anger coming out in slicing breaths as he spoke, “-then maybe you’re not as smart as you let people believe you are….”

You suck in a sharp breath as his last words hit you. You felt like a bucket of ice was thrown directly over your head and your brain reeled as it tried to make sense of it all. ‘Did he… did he really just say what I think he said?’ you questioned, but your brain just played those thorn-covered words on repeat, rubbing the truth into your open wounds. You tried not to take them to heart, you knew it had been a long day for the both of you, but how could you not?

You took a shuddering breath as you looked down, tears welling in your eyes that you willed him not to see. You were too tired for this.

“Y/n..” he sighed as he watched you wordlessly gather his old clothes, long forgotten in the drawers from when he first moved in with you all that time ago. “Y/n, Where are you going? Come back here…”

“I’m going to find another room.” You explained simply, forcing calmness into your tone, but you still couldn’t meet his eyes.

“Doll, I’m sorry-”

“No.” You said firmly, causing him to raise his eyebrows a bit as slowly you turned to face him, “I'm far too tired for this tonight, James. it’s been a long night, we’re both in pain, and you obviously need some time to cool down, because the Bucky I know? He would never speak to me like this,” You struggled to hold in your venom as you harshed out those last words, “Goodnight, Bucky.”

You let the welled-up tears finally break free as the door clicked closed behind you. Sniffling back the onslaught you wiped away your tears to peek around the hall, eventually settling on the room just across from his. “FRIDAY? Open up the door to room 7 please…” you asked, relieved when she did exactly as you asked- you’d have to thank Tony for that later.

“Shit,” Bucky sighed into the empty room, now far too quiet for his liking. He always did everything he could hold to keep his anger in check with you, and it had been easy for the most part. Loving you had always come easy to him, and so he rarely had anything to be upset about. But this? This was new for him…. everything the Winter Soldier did was a means to an end. He was a deceiver, it was programmed into him over the decades and he couldn’t bear to let you fall prey to his games too.

Sleep eluded you for a while as you tossed and turned. You weren’t used to sleeping without him by your side, especially when you knew he was just a step and a knock away. But eventually, through your exhaustion, sleep finally came and you dreamed about your star that very night.

You dreamed of his eyes. Those intense blues that had rattled you so unexpectedly just hours ago. You were sure Bucky was wrong. Those eyes didn’t hold malice when they looked at you. No, they held knowing, like he had finally figured out a piece of himself. As if he had finally seen an aspect of what he could- no, what he would be.

You also dreamed of his smile. As awkward and unpracticed as it was you still loved it. It was nowhere near as bright as Bucky’s, but it held reverence for you all the same.

You dreamed of the promises he made against your belly. While you couldn’t distinguish the words he had said, you knew exactly what they meant; protection, strength, and the promise to return….

When you finally awoke your heart rang with a pang of guilt. Your dream-state comfort had been that of an assassin, an engineered “weapon”- and your heart’s blood-stained other half…. You sighed as you rubbed the sleep from your face. Was it right to be finding comfort in his icy blues instead of Bucky’s warm ones? Your thoughts fought each other for barely a minute more before you were brought back to the “talk” you and Bucky had yesterday. ‘He wouldn’t even listen to me! And then he’s going to go and call me stupid?! AGH’ you huffed as you slammed your fists down on the bed, your hands bouncing in an unsatisfying manner.

Rolling out of bed, you got changed into Bucky’s old clothes, smoothing down the oversized items as you poked your head out of the room. All was quiet in the hallway and only a couple of distant voices could be heard from the kitchen and living area. Holding your belly you hobbled out, your leg searing with each step as you kept your head on a swivel for a certain super soldier. You weren’t quite ready to talk to him yet, all your frustrations still pumping through your blood in a slow but consistent course, However, your heart still found itself craving his familiar presence.

A fleeting disappointment hung over you when you realized he was nowhere to be found, instead discovering Natasha and Sam as they chatted over breakfast.

“It was.. weird, Nat. I know my interactions with him in the past have been limited, but I’ve never seen him like that before” Sam said and you knew they were talking about last night.

“Hey, you two…” You interrupted, causing them to pause as they watched you enter, but neither seemed uneasy as you butted in.

“Y/N…” Sam greeted with a small smile, pressing a few buttons on the coffee machine to get something started for you, “How’s it going? It looks like your leg is still bothering you…”

“Yeah... it’s burning more than last night, ” you rubbed your hand gently over your bandages in an attempt to soothe it, but it only stung more in retaliation. “Ah..” you hissed as you immediately retreated, “Yeah, it’s just a little sensitive….”

“We have some topical anesthetic and fresh bandages in the first aid kit if you want. I can grab them if Sam Is okay finishing off the rest of the pancakes?” the redhead proposed, holding the spatula out to him in an offering.

“Oh?? I, Sam Wilson, get to finish making Natasha’s famous pancakes? What an honor,” He laughed as he feigned his esteemed admiration, taking the spatula and flipping the few already sitting in the pan.

Nat grinned brightly as she made her way down the hall, whispering as she went past, “Truthfully? It’s a box mix. I just add vanilla and nutmeg and they never know the difference.”

You chuckled as you watched her go off to fetch the kit, truly thankful for the break in tension you were already feeling. You hadn’t gotten to know Natasha very well yet, on the off chance you visited the tower she was usually busy with missions, training, or paperwork, yet she welcomed you all the same. Part of you wondered if it was the former assassin in her that let her find friendship in you. After all, if you could love Bucky despite the Winter soldier, then surely you could be her friend despite her past, right?

You took a seat at the island's raised stools, watching Sam as he tried not to let the pancakes overcook. “So, Where is Bucky this morning?” You asked him, trying to be casual as you crossed your arms over the counter, thanking him as he placed a cup of decaf in front of you.

But Sam paused; you always knew where Bucky was, sometimes more than they did at this stage in your pregnancy. He even swore sometimes that you two were attached at the hip. The fact that you didn’t know means something must’ve happened last night after he got reset.

“He joined Steve on his morning run,” he answered as he leaned against the island opposite you, rolling his eyes as he continued, “It’s always ‘on your left…!’ when I run with him. I hope he gives Steve a run for his money this time…” he shook his head and smiled a bit as he watched you, trying to check in, but you just laughed, your face cracking into a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Speaking of your elusive super soldier…” Nat started as she returned, getting straight to the point as both her curiosity and old spy ways got the best of her, ”I heard the infamous Winter Soldier made an appearance last night...” She eyed you as well as she set the first aid kit down.

You tried to keep your smile, but as the conflicting thoughts and feelings of just last night resurfaced it was no time before it slipped away. You frowned at your mug, watching the dark swirls that lingered amongst the cream you added, “He did… he showed up at the house last night unexpectedly.”

Natasha’s frown matched yours as she spoke, “That bad, huh?”

“No, not at all. I mean, besides the almost getting shot part-“ you motioned as you began unwrapping your leg, your gash now open for the world to see. Though It was still a blazing red, it didn’t seem infected and for that you were thankful.

Her eyebrows shot up as she looked over your wound, it was a good-sized graze and a very near miss, “Y/N do we need to have a talk about toxic relationships?”

“What? No, Nat-” You waved her off, trying to get back on track as you began carefully cleaning it, “he’s not the one who shot me.”

You didn’t miss the way Nat’s eyes darted to Sam, surprise written on her face for just a moment before her collected expression came back. “He didn’t? That seems….”

“I told you…He was different last night, he was on the defensive this time.” Sam chimed in, tying back to their earlier conversation that you had interrupted.

You nodded in agreement and continued, “It was the security team that shot me, some new kid. I didn’t recognize his number or his face,” You explained. You couldn’t even be angry at that poor dumb soul either, he more than got what was coming to him. All you could hope for was that he learned something when he was dangling so uselessly in the air.

Sam thought for a moment, back to the bristling frustration he saw written all over Bucky as he left this morning, enough that he worried the Winter Soldier might have made a second appearance. His concerns dissipated when Steve managed to pat the man’s shoulder without receiving an immediate knife to the throat, but now it made him wonder, “Does Bucky know this?”

Your expression softened and you continued to frown as you took a small sip, “No… I tried to talk about it with him last night, but he didn’t want to hear anything after he learned who I met,” you huffed with annoyance, not even bothering to hide it from your two friends.

Sam nodded and held his hand up, “Well, I can’t say much since we only came in on the end, but maybe Bucky would listen to the body cam footage?”

You paused, blinking a few times as you processed what he said, “Body cam footage?” You questioned, setting the roll of bandages down, “What do you mean?”

“The security team is always required to wear body cameras when they go out. They should be reviewing it now,” Natasha explained.

You nearly jumped out of your chair, the pain in your leg the only thing holding you back. This could be it! If he wouldn’t believe your words, then maybe he’d believe his own eyes. Bucky deserved to know what kind of man his other side of him really was; he deserved to know that you loved him wholly, finding comfort in both sides of the coin.

You were determined not to give up on your star, because while Bucky had his friends to back him up, your Soldat had no one. No one, but you.

“Where can I get it?” You rushed to ask, looking back between the two, who in turn exchanged glances with one another.

Natasha took over pancake duty as Sam slid a plate in front of you and said, “It should be available sometime tomorrow, I can let them know you want a copy. Since you were the one caught in the crossfire they shouldn’t have a problem giving you access.”

You nodded quickly, excitement and relief easing into your shoulders as you took your plate, letting out a breath you didn’t you were holding.

This was it.

--------

Bucky’s feet hit the pavement in time with his steady heart, maneuvering past people like boxes in crowded alleyways. He was supposed to be on a run with Steve, but his mind had been wandering the whole time. ‘The Bucky I know? He would never speak to me like this,’ you had told him, so calm and so even that he honestly wished you had just screamed at him. His legs went into autopilot as your words rattled around his head. You were right, never in his waking minutes would it have ever crossed his mind to say those things to you. He was just so tired, so scared, and to top it all off it seemed like you had completely forgotten his warnings on the Soviet assassin. Or worse- that you purposefully went against them.

“Buck? Bucky!” Steve’s voice finally reached his ears as a hand grabbed his shoulder.

“What? What is it..?” The brunet shook himself from his thoughts as he slowed to a stop, looking back at his friend.

“Where are you going? The tower is this way,” Steve shot a thumb over his shoulder in the opposite direction, the tower in plain view above the surrounding shops.

Bucky stopped, blinking as he tried to process his surroundings. Where was he going? There was nothing in this direction except-

The apartment.

Bucky sighed as he quieted the subtle itch at the back of his mind, “Nothing, nothing. Just lost in my thoughts. I’m here now,” he assured, to which Steve nodded, but obviously did not believe. He was always too smart for his own good.

“Let’s head back to the tower, okay? It’ll be our final mile. We can even stop by the bakery on our way.”

Bucky willed himself to keep his thoughts in line as they ran their last mile, the tension in his body slowly unwinding only as they came to a stop and stepped into the sweet-smelling bakery. His senses were hit with a deluge of warm bread and spices that seemed to quiet his nerves for the time being.

“What can I get for you, sugar?” the older woman behind the counter asked. Her smile was tired as she nursed an old cup of coffee and Bucky assumed she had been there since its opening hours ago.

“Oh, um…” Bucky hummed as he looked through their displays, his heart really wasn’t in it like he wished it was. He was about to step back without getting anything when he spotted a fresh tray of cinnamon rolls coming out of the back. Cinnamon rolls had always been one of your favorite treats and he had rescued many a bad day with a surprise from the bakery. Maybe he could turn this bad day around too.

“Three cinnamon rolls, and three of the blueberry lemon rolls too. Uh, and a black coffee…. Please.” He asked, pulling his wallet out.

“Sounds like you’re having quite the party,” she commented with a little chuckle as she filled up a box with fragrant pastries.

“Ah, almost…I’m trying to make it up to someone,” He admitted sheepishly.

“Hm…” She hummed, looking right through him with practiced eyes, “You want me to throw some heart-shaped sprinkles in there or is that too much?”

A tiny smile lifted the corners of his mouth, “I think it’s gonna be just right.”

Bucky rehearsed the whole walk back, running his apology through his head dozens and dozens of times until it felt perfect. You still didn’t seem to grasp the level of danger you were in or how lucky you were to get out with just a scratch, but he knew you wouldn’t be able to listen if you were still angry with him. Maybe this would smooth things over enough for him to explain- for him to tell you all the things he did, all the things his hands will forever be stained with.

You knew the gist of it of course. Bucky had made it a point to let you know exactly what had happened to him over those years and exactly what his job as a living weapon was. The last thing he had wanted was for you to resent him for tricking you into loving him. But you deserved to know more, and these gooey pastries going to be his entry point.

Yes. He’d give you the treats, say his well-thought-out apology, and then he could finally explain. Hopefully, then you’d understand.

Well, that was the plan anyway.

As the doors opened up to their desired floor, Bucky could hear you before he even saw you. Your laugh rang like bells as you chatted away with Natasha and Sam, his heart bolstering with hope that your good mood would only make it better as he stepped forward.

“Hey, Do-“ he started before his eyes landed on your leg. It was propped up on the stool beside you as you were obviously in the middle of caring for it. He hadn’t had a chance to see it yet, part of him not wanting to know just how bad it was, but now there was no ignoring it. It was bright red, yelling its ferocity and pain as you tried to air it out. The wound itself was still trying to heal over, its soft vulnerable flesh showing barely any sign of scabbing. Blood stained your old bandage and it all made his stomach twist without mercy.

His mind couldn’t negotiate with him how bad it was anymore. Even though it was just a graze, he could see how painful and uncomfortable it was for you. He had failed you. What if it had just been an inch over? What if it had hit your bump? What if it had hit your heart?

He didn’t even realize he had crushed the flimsy cup in his hands until Steve stepped back, saying something about getting paper towels. Scorching coffee steamed up from his metal hand where it continued to drip into the puddle below it.

You looked over in surprise as you heard the splash, seeing your Bucky standing there with an intensity so adamant that you almost mistook him for someone else. But his eyes aren’t staring at you, per se, but your leg.

“Bucky, It’s okay, really-“ you tried, but he would not hear you; He wouldn’t hear anyone as he dropped his cup, the loud clattering in the quiet room almost more jarring than anything he could have said back. “Buck. Bucky, wait-!” but he was already walking away, forcing his gaze ahead as he passed by you like a ghost.

You tried to reach out, to grab his sleeve, but he slipped right through your fingers.

“Barnes, come on…” Natasha gently scolded, but he still refused to react.

You blinked back your shock, willing the threat of tears to subside when you heard the loud thud of his door closing behind him. You let out a shuddering breath, your hands rubbing down your face and you wondered just how long this was going to last.

After taking a few minutes to re-wrap your leg, hoping maybe he had cooled down once more you made your way down the hall. “Hm?” You mused wordlessly as you saw the small white box placed on the ground before your door. Being careful of your protruding bump, you squatted down- earning a small kick of protest- and lifted up the lid.

‘Cinnamon rolls… my favorite. And he even got us a special flavor…. ‘

With utmost care, you closed the box again and turned to face his door. “Bucky? My heart…?” You tried as you knocked on his door, putting your ear against it as you listened in.

Silence.

You tried again, louder this time, “Bucky, are you in there...?” But were again met with nothing. Was he really ignoring you now? “Please, can we just talk?”

Quiet.

Your skin couldn’t help but burn as you tried to hold in your frustration. ‘So now he doesn’t want to talk to me? What did I even do?!’ You thought as you dug your nails into your palms, using the sharp pain to ground you once more.

With a deep breath, you turned, picked up the white box, and left him to his begotten silence.

---------

Bucky’s ears were deaf to your calls as the shower rained over him, washing off the coffee and grime of the whole morning. His breath broke through the steam as he sighed, dipping his head under the rush of scorching water as if it would wash away his worries too; It almost worked until a searing headache made itself known.

The pain rippled in violent waves that came out of nowhere, consuming him suddenly and causing him to reach out blindly for the support of the slick wall. It was worse than getting kicked straight in the head, but he knew from experience that fighting it would only make it hurt more.

Squeezing his eyes shut against the pain, he made the perfect dark theater as flashes and snippets of memories played behind his eyes.

“Bucky…?” A vibrant grin spread across your lips, lighting up the room brighter than the phone on your bedside table. Someone was calling you, but he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away and the more he watched, the more your face changed.

Your eyes squinted as you looked deeper into him and for a moment he could swear you saw the heavy weight of loneliness that ached in his chest. He felt the coldness of his expression, emotionless and lifeless save for the way his brows knit together, eyes searching yours with confusion and… wanting? Your brows knit together, almost a reflection of himself he thought, as you seemed to consider who you looked at.

He could feel the smooth cold weight of the knife in his hand as he took a step closer, his head shaking slowly.

Then suddenly your gaze took on a horrified expression, your eyes darting to the phone to see who was calling.

“Soldat…” You whispered. You tried to steel yourself, but he heard the way your nervous voice shook- he saw the way your pulse thrummed rapidly in your neck. As the phone went dark he took another step- quiet, so as not to send you running.

Your phone buzzed again, lighting up the room once more as he stood above you now and you looked so scared, but his expression did not change. Did he feel anything as he saw your cowering form below him? Or was he just another husk of a weapon? Could he ever be anything more?

He glanced at the phone; his time with you had been interrupted again- your attention was drawn from him again. And he couldn’t have that. A low growl rumbled from his chest as you tried to reach for it, and immediately you recoiled again. He would take care of this. He would take care of you.

Wordlessly he declined the call and left you in darkness again. While his knife slipped away, his metal hand reached out. Something in him called desperately to feel your skin beneath cool unforgiving metal. He needed to see all the ways your soft scared body reacted under his touch.

He would take care of you.

“Please… Just don’t hurt her..” you begged.

Bucky sucked in desperate breaths as the memories of just yesterday finally faded. The headache lingered, but it was nothing compared to the incessant twisting of his heart in his chest.

What did he do to you…?

-----

You found solace in the quiet of your room after Bucky refused to answer the door, wrapping yourself in the comfort of your duvet rather than his arms. You sighed, looking about the empty room as you leaned your head against the armchair you sat in. “Hey there, baby…” you cooed quietly to your belly, your words immediately met with excited kicks. “Enjoying the rolls as much as I am?” you laughed a bit as you took another bite of your pastry.

You were lost in the one-sided conversation between you and your belly when a knock came at your door. You furrowed your brow as you sat up a bit wondering who it could be, only to sigh and lean back again, “Nat, I’m not sure I’m really in the mood for-”

“It’s Bucky…”

You paused, your mind at war with whether you ignored him like he ignored you… when you received a swift kick to the ribs, your baby firmly letting you know you were acting stupid. “Ah, ow- Okay, okay. You win… nice kick….” You mumbled to the inevitable bruise forming inside you.

“FRIDAY, Unlock the door to room 7, please?” you requested, to which she gladly complied.

As the door let out a soft click you watched your boyfriend’s head slowly peek inside, a faint smile growing on his features as his eyes finally settled on you. “Doll…” he breathed as if the simple action blessed him with life.

You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your features before you quickly pulled it all back in. You were still frustrated with him and you weren’t going to let him off so easily. You had to be strong and stick up for the Winter Soldier, after all, it was the least you could do.

“Do you like them…? I know they’re your favorite,” he smiled as he motioned to the box of pastries, taking a few steps closer until he stood an arm's reach away. You wanted nothing more than to feel the warmth of him against you and the tight safety of his arms, but that would have to wait.

“I do… Thank you,” you smiled faintly down at the box as you pulled the blanket tighter around you.

He nodded, the ends of his lips remaining curled in a small smile, “I’m… I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to say those things, or imply that I don’t think you’re the smartest one in the room because you are.” His eyes cast down in shame before moving back up to you. He looked worn, as if he had been beating himself up for hours and you wanted nothing more than to take it all away.

“I was tired, and in pain, and scared...” He tried to hide the slight tremble in his voice as he remembered the way his thoughts raced when he first learned you had met the Soldier. He frowned as he fought off the memory that had resurfaced just a short while ago as he continued, “I don’t mean to make excuses, and it won’t happen again, I just-,” he frowned, his jaw setting as he steeled himself and took a breath, “I can’t imagine the ways he must’ve hurt you, or the ways he intended to. It makes me sick to think that I wasn’t there to do anything, and even sicker to know I was the one doing them….”

But it was your turn to frown now, “Bucky, My heart. I keep trying to tell you he didn’t hurt me, He would never….” You assured, but this argument was beginning to look all too familiar.

“Doll, you can’t tell me that you really believe that…? You know the things he’s done, the indiscriminate blood on his hands-” he sighed as he also felt the argument beginning to go around in circles.

Just as you were about to open your mouth FRIDAY interrupted, “Guest Y/N, Sergeant Barnes, Miss Romanoff has requested your presence in the living area. She asks that you do not delay.”

You sighed as you looked at Bucky, who seemed to be just as confused as you were. Nevertheless, you peeled yourself from your blanket cocoon, steadying yourself on the chair’s arm briefly before heading toward the door. You could feel him following behind you, trying to stay a few steps back both in punishment to himself, and the urge to give you space.

You glanced back at him, offering your hand as you slowly made your way down the hall. Bucky took it immediately, holding your hand like it was a lifeline and you gently tugged him closer, urging him to fall in step beside you as you leaned on him for support; he has never been happier to be your crutch.

As the two of you walked into the living space you saw Natasha standing firm in front of the TV with the remote in her hands. Sam and Steve looked back from their place on the couch, waving a bit at each of you as you joined the group.

Before either of you could ask any questions Natasha got straight to the point, “Alright, I’m done feeling the tension between you two in the tower… you two have been arguing about something that- all in all, you two should just be happy went as good as it did..” she motioned for you two to take a seat before continuing, “But because you two are still at odds with each other I’ve asked to get the body cam footage expedited. We have the best of what they’ve gone through already and Barnes? I really think you should watch it…” she said with a pointed look and clear knowing.

He cast an uneasy glance at Sam and Steve, but when he received a simple nod in return he nodded too, tugging you gently onto the seat beside him. With a sigh, he nodded at Nat to start the video. He wasn’t sure he was ready to see it, but he was on a mission and he fucked up, he deserved to know just how spectacularly he did it.

You also motioned to Natasha, and she started the video. However, you could barely keep your eyes on the screen, instead, your eyes were glued to your beloved soldier’s face, waiting with bated breath for his reaction.

Bucky tensed as the video started with the security team breaking through your door, leaving it broken and barely on its hinges as they rushed their way through the house. He took in a sharp breath as the video continued and he saw himself standing over you, the bunching of the sweatshirt making it evident that your baby- his baby- was fully exposed. But it wasn’t until he turned that Bucky’s body started to unwind, his expression still a mask of confusion as he saw you grab the assassin’s hand, his grip giving a comforting squeeze.

“He…”

Bucky’s heart twinged with conflicted feelings as you called out to the team, begging them not to shoot, while still pleading with him to stand down. He could see the look in the Soldier’s eyes, but it wasn’t one he recognized… It was tangled; a war between gentleness, vulnerability, and the unrelenting fight he had had beaten into him years and years ago. The Soldier stood unyielding, shielding the most vulnerable parts of you with his body as he brandished the small knife.

“He was… protecting you…?” Bucky whispered as he looked away, turning his eyes to your teary ones. Despite trying to blink them away, a few still found their escape down your cheeks.

“It’s all he wanted…” You nodded, trying to fight back the renewing well in your eyes, but you knew how it all ended, and though you knew he was still alive you couldn’t help but feel the loss of him still. “ He just wanted a place to call home, a place to be safe…”

Bucky’s hand gripped yours, giving its own reassuring squeeze as he turned back to the screen. ‘My Sun…’ he called you, pure reverence and love in his voice that Bucky had never expected to hear from him. ‘My Star…’ you had called him back, desperate and pleading eyes as he turned back to you.

The security team shouted at him to comply again, and the body cam shifted, showing a young kid whose gun trembled as if he was in the middle of a terrible earthquake. The woman wearing the camera recognized his anxiety and tried to talk him down, but he couldn’t listen and his gun went off with a bang. Bucky could see the kid’s surprise as he accidentally pulled the trigger, and the fear as you clutched desperately to your wounded leg.

He winced as he saw the assassin’s cold expression return and again as a shot lodged square into his shoulder. He knew what was coming before he even lifted the kid in the air, your begging and crying out for his life ringing loudly in the background. No wonder you had been so adamant about defending him, he had done just the same for you.

When the kid was dropped, yet still breathing and the Soldier returned to you Nat finally cut off the video, sighing a bit at the overbearing air of the room.

Everything was quiet for a moment as Bucky took in the weight of the video until Sam and Steve broke the silence.

“We were able to convince him to come back to the tower to be reset after that…”

“He was the one who patched up Y/n’s leg, and vice versa…”

You nodded in agreement, wiping your dry cheeks as you felt tears beginning to return, “He knew he had to go… and he was happy to do so. I think…” You took a breath as Bucky reached over to wipe the falling tears, “I think he was just happy to know he finally had more, more than one purpose.”

Quietly Natasha waved everyone else from the room, giving you two much-needed space.

“That’s why I’m so sure, Bucky... He would never hurt us,” you rested your hand on your belly, “He took bullets for us, just like I know you would- and I have no doubt that he’d do it again. And god, Buck- he loves her so much,” you choked out a sob as you spoke, “He promised her the absolute world and he can’t wait to meet her…”

“Doll…”

“And I can’t wait either,” you said firmly despite your current teary disposition, “I’m glad I finally met him, Bucky. Because despite the separation you and the team refer to him with he is still a part of you.” You looked into the softening eyes of your beloved as you continued “And I know he’s not a part you’re proud of but that won’t make him disappear. I know the things he’s done, and I know that you blame yourself for them, but his actions are not yours….” You said.

“I can’t condone the things he’s done, but I know what he’s doing now, and I know that no matter what you think of him I love every part of you, James Barnes. Even the parts you don’t want me to see.”

Bucky’s eyes blinked as they looked down trying to contain the swell of emotions creeping dangerously close to the edge. Slowly he lifted your hand to his lips, kissing your palm like it was worship, “I love you so much, Y/n… I’m sorry I didn't listen before. And though it still makes me hesitate, I’m glad you finally know who he is. He- We are beyond lucky to have you, and even luckier that you somehow manage to love the both of us. I was worried you’d hate me for him...”

“Oh, my heart… I could never stop loving you in any way that would last.”

_____________

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prythianpages · 3 months

Text

A Man After Midnight | Eris x Reader

summary: though engaged to Sawyer Vanserra, you feel utterly and completely alone with only the company of autumn winds, blowing outside your window. that is, until, Eris shows up. Your man after midnight.

warnings: mentions of assault (reader gets touched against her will but nothing explicit or anything that goes beyond that), blood, bruises/abuse/bullying; reader having a panic attack

a/n: This originally was going to head a different direction but I decided to make it like a part three to this instead. You can also read this as a stand alone one-shot. I love ABBA and I knew I had to use this song. One of my favs but you'll find that I say that a lot. You can find the masterlist to my ABBA x ACOTAR series here.

Your eyes light up as you spot Sawyer stepping out from the High Lord’s study. Overridden with excitement, you eagerly fall into step with him, the sheer brightness of your presence outshining the dimly lit surroundings. You pay no mind to the fact that his other brothers, Hunter and Oliver, are not too far behind.

“Good morning, Sawyer! Will you walk with me?” you beam up at him with a smile. It's the kind of sight that would make many fall to their feet–that even Oliver wants to bask in the glow of.

But Sawyer? He doesn’t even spare you a glance, his dark brown eyes fixed ahead as he replies, his tone detached. “I’m doing that right now.”

You can hear his brothers snicker behind you–too close for your liking that it has you quickening your steps. “But I was hoping you’d walk with me in the gardens? Or maybe we can have lunch together? We are to be marri–”

“Our marriage is nothing but a business deal arranged by our fathers.” He cuts you in sharply and you find your resolve faltering.

“Love may not come from our marriage but perhaps, we can be friends?” You offer, hating the desperation that seeps into your tone, as you trail behind Sawyer.

Sawyer stops abruptly, causing you to crash into his chest and stumble backwards. You catch yourself, a hand rubbing at your forehead where you’re sure an imprint of the necklace he wears marks your reddening skin. Your betrothed looks down at you in a way no one has ever before. Ever since your father left, it appeared that so did Sawyer’s patience. It’s as if the male you met when you first arrived was a facade. Pure disgust simmers in his heated gaze and his nose wrinkles as he lets out a scoff, causing you to shrink back.

“Friends? I don’t want to be friends with you. I don’t want to be anything with you. You’re the bane of my existence.”

Tears sting at the corners of your eyes, and instinctively, you take another step back, as though the physical distance could somehow lessen the impact of his words. It doesn’t. Your lip trembles as a frown threatens to overtake your features.

“How can you mean that when you barely know me?” you ask, your voice a mere whisper but you know by the way his steps stop, that he catches every word. So you decide to remind him and add: “I didn’t ask for this either.”

Sawyer doesn’t bother to turn around or answer you, simply choosing to keep walking away. Hunter pushes past you aggressively, turning to smirk at your distraught expression as he catches up with Sawyer. It is Oliver who stops you from colliding into the wall. He wraps an arm around your shoulder, steadying you and pulling you close to him.

“Oh, sweet girl, you’re too pretty to cry.”

Oliver’s free hand reaches up to grip your chin, forcing your gaze to him. His lips form a slight pout that contrasts the mischief twinkling in his amber eyes. He leans to lick the single tear trickling down your cheek and you wince. You want to run but his grip on you is strong.

He then directs your attention forward, where Hunter has Sawyer in a similar hold. “Tell her,” Hunter says, gaze darkening with a thirst to torment. He flashes his teeth as his smirk widens. This is all a fun game to him. “Tell her why you don’t like her.”

Sawyer looks like he would rather die than answer Hunter’s demand. He glares at you as he struggles to free himself from his brother’s grasps but Hunter is much stronger. He realizes that he won’t be free until he says something. Finally, between clenched teeth, Sawyer answers. “She’s not my type.”

Hunter throws his head back in laughter, the sound echoing through the room with a dark and menacing resonance.

“What a shame,” Oliver says, his breath tickling your ear as his hand roams down the length of your neck. You swear your heart misses a beat when his hand stops right over the swell of your chest. His nails dig into your chest at your struggle to free yourself. “She’s exactly my type.”

Your entire body tenses at the unwanted touch, eyes widening when you feel heat prick at your skin. The smell of burnt fabric reaches your nose and a chill permeates, displacing the warmth as Oliver lifts his flaming hand from you. You rush to cross your arms over your chest, desperate to cover your exposed skin from Hunter’s and Oliver’s hungry gazes.

“Just look at her,” Oliver continues, pushing you forward so harshly it sends you to your knees. His chuckle makes goosebumps rise on your skin. “So pretty, so docile.”

As you blink away tears of humiliation, your eyes remain fixed on Sawyer, pleading almost. He’s determined to look anywhere but you. You curl your arms tighter around yourself and lower your gaze. You don’t want to give the other Vanserras the satisfaction of seeing you cry. You suspect it will only prompt them to torment you further.

“Then have at her. I don’t care.”

Sawyer’s words reach you with a devastating force like the last blow. They pierce through the core of your naive heart and you can’t help the tears that escape and spill onto the floor. Hunter peels his gaze away from you to roll his eyes at his younger brother, releasing him with a rough shove.

“You’re no fun, Sawyer,” he says with a disappointed sigh, his expectation for a different response lingering unfulfilled. Hunter then looks back at you, you can feel his heated gaze, and you curl in further into yourself. “But it looks like you are.”

“What is the meaning of this??”

Beron’s cold eyes take in the sight before him, gaze sweeping over your slumped form on the floor. It’s Hunter who moves to speak but at the lift of Beron’s finger, his mouth closes shut. Beron comes to the conclusion that he doesn’t care as there’s other pressing matters to attend to. Such as dealing with your father and ensuring he keeps his end of the agreement. He turns to his oldest, who stands at his side with a perfectly donned mask.

“You deal with whatever this is.”

“Yes, father,” Eris replies with no hesitation and Beron pats him on the shoulder–the same shoulder he left a bruise on the other night.

Eris bites back a wince. He waits until his father is away from sight to take in the situation before him. The torches lining up the halls flare. With a simmering intensity that could rival a raging inferno, Eris turns his attention to the brother closest to him. The searing authority of his gaze has Oliver raising his hands in a gesture of surrender and stepping away from you.

“We were just having a little fun, brother.”

“Fun?”

Eris releases a disbelieving exhale as he grasps onto Oliver’s shirt. He wants to burn his hand through his brother’s skin until he’s screaming and crying, the same way Oliver had intended to do with you. Because how dare he touch you, hurt you. It’s as if Oliver can hear the crackling roar of the fire burning within his older brother and his eyes widen in fear.

Under the weight of Hunter’s hawk eyes, Eris grudgingly settles on shoving Oliver further away from him. And you.

“If you want to have fun, go to a fucking brothel. This is our home.”

Oliver releases a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He doesn’t waste another second, happy to leave the hall before his brother can take back his mercy.

"And you," Eris seethes, his voice a low, rumbling growl as he turns to face Hunter next. Eris effortlessly surpasses him in both stature and might, looming over him like a formidable mountain casting its shadow. “Shouldn’t you be making haste to quell the riots in town? Or should I add that to your growing list of incapabilities?”

Hunter's fists clench at his sides, the dance of flames flickering along his skin, but in the presence of Eris, his fire pales in comparison. The fire raging within Eris burns brighter, stronger. A force that demands respect and obedience. Much like their father’s. Without uttering another word, he turns on his heel and leaves.

Stepping forward, Eris finally allows his gaze to fall on you and he feels a violent tug in his chest that threatens to weaken him. The desire to sink to his knees beside you and envelop your trembling form in his arms is an overpowering one, coursing through him like a forbidden current. Yet, the harsh reality holds him back. It’s too dangerous. He cannot act upon the fervent emotions that entwine his heart and it pains him, seeking to destroy him almost.

But he can’t just leave you there. Helpless. On the floor. So he masks his emotions–something he is well accustomed to–and dons a facade of annoyance. With a deft, almost dismissive motion, Eris removes his tailcoat, flinging it carelessly in your direction. The seconds stretch into a languid dance as your eyes, wide with surprise, meet his. You gratefully slip his coat over your smaller form, clutching it tightly to your chest.

There’s a bittersweet ache that lingers within Eris at the unexpected intake of breath you give.

A fleeting flicker of sweet agony passes through his eyes. It vanishes almost as quickly as it appeared, leaving you to wonder if it was a mere figment of your imagination.

"And lastly," Eris starts with a deep sigh, the once-fiery intensity in his eyes dimming as he regards his last remaining brother. The only brother left that harbored some redeemable qualities but now, Eris questioned it.

"Is this any way to treat your fiancé?"

A ripple courses through Sawyer's jawline. “Why do you care?”

"I don't." Eris retorts with a glare. He's skilled at weaving falsehoods, and though this one is way far out from the truth, it slides effortlessly off his tongue like all the other ones. He immediately senses the weight of your gaze pressing into the expense of his back.

"But I do care about the consequences if she runs away. You should too."

Though it pains him, he doesn’t turn back around to you. He looks at Sawyer once more in warning. Then, he begins to walk away, every step pulling him further from the one he yearns to be with. Your gaze, burning into him like a relentless brand the entire time.

Weeks Later..

Autumn winds blow harshly outside the window as you look around your room. They mirror the melancholy that lingers in your heart. Your room is big and spacious, seems fit for a princess, adorned with sculpted art and paintings. In one corner stands a massive wardrobe crafted from the richness of dark cherry wood filled to the brim with a variety of dresses that would make any lady of your status swoon. Beside it, there’s a lovely vanity with golden carvings that hosts an array of makeup and beauty products. On the opposite side, is a desk that matches your wardrobe. It bears the weight of books, letters from your father, threads, unfinished embroideries and your untouched dinner.

At a glance, it appears you have everything.

Yet, as you sit on the bed, a pitiful truth echoes louder than the winds outside. Your gaze meets a reflection in the full-length mirror positioned next to the desk, capturing the solemn expression that dances across your features. Dark, sad eyes stare back at you and the weight of isolation is evident in the downturned corners of your mouth. You miss your home. Your friends, your horse, your father, and gods do you miss your mother.

Upon your arrival, eager anticipation filled your heart as you looked forward to getting acquainted with your future husband. You knew not to expect love to come from it as you were mere strangers but you had hoped for a friend. The promise of a lifelong companion, a partner to share laughter and weave a tapestry of memories together, stirred excitement and nerves within you. It’s what your father and mother had shared. Your foolish heart had eagerly counted down the days, each one a step closer to a shared future.

But now? As the appointed days draw near, the once-cherished anticipation morphs into a heavy sense of dread, casting a haunting shadow over you. Your husband to be looks at you as if you’re the scum on his boots.

The High Lord, your future father in law, is cruel and terrifying. You avoid him at all costs. Your future mother in law, Lady Autumn, is often busy and away. She helps you plan your dreadful wedding during the times she isn’t busy but you find that she is quiet and reserved. There’s a lingering sadness always present in her amber eyes that you assume comes from all the sorrow and grief she’s had to endure. You’ve met one of her sons–Lucien, you remember– during your travels with your father and you used to wonder why he no longer resided in Autumn but not anymore. You can only imagine the horrors he’s had to endure that made him leave.

Hunter enjoys berating you every chance he can. There’s a darkness that burns in him and you can’t help but think about what would become of you if Sawyer was interested in you. One day, while walking through the garden you overheard from some gossiping servants that Hunter was once married. His wife died shortly after the marriage and rumor has it that the frightening Vanserra had something to do with her sudden disappearance. They wondered if the same fate would befall upon you. A thought you didn’t want to linger on as it was absolutely terrifying.

Then, there’s Oliver. Though kinder, only in comparison to Hunter and maybe even Sawyer, he is not to be trusted. He undresses you with his eyes in every glance and vulgarly welcomes you to his bed. You do your best to stay away from him because as lonely as you are, you’re nowhere near desperate for his company, and fear the day he’ll grow wary of your constant rejection.

You find yourself, however, desperate for another’s. Eris.

You haven’t seen him since that day Sawyer broke your heart, since he let Oliver make a spectacle out of you. Eris had been the only one you’d look forward to seeing during dinner and his noted absence was the reason why you stopped joining the Vanserra dinners yourself.

Days, even weeks have passed, and he hasn’t fulfilled the promise of returning your book, its absence on your nightstand a constant reminder. He hasn’t even asked for his coat back. It remains draped over your desk chair. He’s a rare sight to see when walking amongst the grounds of the Forest house, prompting a question to rise. Is he purposely avoiding you? The mere thought stirs an unexpected pain within you.

There’s no one here for you.

A little over a month into your lifetime stay at the Forest house and you already feel so alone. So utterly and completely alone.

Suddenly feeling suffocated, you rise from your bed and head toward your favorite area of your room–the window seat. Kneeling on the soft cushion, your fingers reach to open the window, eyes fluttering shut in anticipation. The Autumn winds continue to howl through the darkness of the night but their chill does not reach you. Your eyes open and you raise your hand. A surge of electricity courses through you as your hand meets an unseen force. A magical barrier.

Turning your head toward the door, your gaze dips to the bottom where shadows dance. You can make out the planted boots of an Autumn guard and hope deflates. Nothing can come in. Nothing can go out. Not only are you alone but you’re trapped.

A taste of what’s to come, of what’s to be of the rest of your miserable life. Lonely. Trapped. Locked away into oblivion. No breath you take is enough as you’re suffocated by the storm of emotions flooding through you. This place is your hell. Impending doom. You’re going to die here. Alone. There’s not a soul out there…

Water. You should drink some water. Tremors take over your body as you make your way toward your nightstand. Water spills onto the floor as you pour yourself a glass. You bring the water to your lips but your throat feels like it’s closing up. You glance at the pocket watch on your nightstand and notice it’s half past twelve.

There’s not a soul out there…

You extend your hand towards the watch—a cherished heirloom passed down from your mother. The gentle, rhythmic ticking of it has long been a source of solace and comfort for you. But it’s too late.

The hand clutching onto your glass of water shatters against the dark wood of your nightstand as you clutch the watch to your racing heart. You can only pray to the Cauldron, the Mother, to anyone as the room spins around you. But there’s no one to hear your prayer…

There’s a deep agony in your chest that tightens with every passing second, an inescapable loop of gloom that envelops your every thought and emotion. There’s not a soul out there. You can’t breathe. No one to hear your prayer…

“y/n.”

You catch the faint murmur of your name being called, yet a lingering doubt creeps in. You must be going mad because there’s no one here for you. Not a soul—

“y/n.”

And there it is again. Your name is being called. Louder, firmer this time. It’s real. The cruel clutches of your sorrow that held you captive begin to shatter like your glass from earlier. The sound of your name acts as a lifeline, pulling you from the depths of despair you inadvertently locked yourself into.

“That’s it. Breathe with me, angel,” the soothing voice persists, a gentle anchor for your drifting thoughts. And you can finally hear it. Your beloved watch. Though it's fast, it becomes a comforting undercurrent, a familiar melody that helps steady your racing heartbeat.

You feel like you can finally breathe again. As you blink away the haze clouding your vision and come back down, you are met with a pair of familiar amber eyes. The warm hues flicker like flames as they fixate upon you. Intense but tender and full of concern.

“Eris.”

You breathe his name so heavenly, like an answered prayer as you take him in. His dark red hair is tousled as though he emerged hastily from a slumber. Adorned in a thin, un-tied linen shirt, the fine contours of his chest are revealed, and his pants, creased as if donned in urgency, complete the picture of a man who arrived in haste yet with purpose.

"You're here," you say, your tone teetering on the edge of question and you glance toward your door, confirming that the Autumn guard is still stationed there.

You called, he wants to reply but instead, settles on, “I’m here.”

“How?” You ask, aware of the wards in your room preventing winnowing. At first, you thought they were meant to protect you. Now, you’re aware they’re really meant to keep you from escaping.

The corners of his lips lift into a small smirk. “I have my ways. I know every secret tunnel, every little crevice of this estate.”

Your head turns, eyes scanning your room in search of said secret tunnel. Eris lightly grasps your chin, focusing your attention back to him to keep you from spotting the secret door hidden behind your full length mirror. He wipes at the lingering traces of tears on your face, watching as your eyes dip and fixate on the golden chain encircling his neck. A sigil of three hounds captures your attention—an emblem unfamiliar to your discerning gaze, sparking a curiosity that mingles with the relief flooding your senses.

He finds his own breathing to steady at your calming state but at the sight of blood trickling down your hand, a knot twists in his stomach. “You’re hurt.”

You pull your gaze from his necklace, eyebrows furrowing as you look up at him. “I thought you didn’t care,” you tell him, echoing his words from the last time you saw him.

Again, Eris does not answer you. His eyes scan your room for a moment before abandoning whatever he was searching for. In his haste to aid your bleeding hand, he’s slipping his shirt off without another thought.

“It’s fine,” you insist.

“No. It’s not.” He shakes his head at you as he guides you to the window nook. If only you knew the effect you had on him. The horror that crashed over him like a bucket of ice cold water, waking him so abruptly from his sleep. At your pain. Your agony. It nearly destroyed him the way it had been destroying you.

Eris pushes you gently to sit while he uses his shirt to wipe your blood off, frowning to himself when he can still hear the irregular beat of your heart. Too engrossed in cleaning your injury, he fails to catch on that the fluttering rhythm of your heart is now stirred by an entirely different source.

His expression transforms into one of genuine surprise as he encounters the gentle skin of your palm. Untouched, unmarked. His gaze flickers back to the shattered pieces of glass by the foot of your bed and then back to your hand. There’s no way. Not even with your healing abilities as a high fae. The amount of blood he had seen, the stinging he had felt through the bond–

“I told you it was fine.”

“But you’re not.” Eris counters and sucks in a sharp breath. “Angel–”

“Neither are you.” You point out, deftly redirecting the focus from yourself.

Your glistening eyes, pools of concern, flicker toward him. Toward his chest, where scars from injuries that had not healed properly and lingering bruises taint the muscles beneath, painting an alarming image.

Eris averts his gaze, withdrawing slightly, reluctant to confront the vulnerability of the moment. Though your touch is gentle, the softest caress, his entire body tenses at the unfamiliar sensation. Your palm presses against a nasty scar that runs down the length of his abdomen, making him shudder at the memory it came from.

You suspect the answer but you can’t stop yourself from asking anyway. A blend of hurt and anger seeps through your voice. “Who did this to you?”

Eris stands abruptly, caught in the tumult of conflicting desires–of longing to bask in the warmth of your touch and the simultaneous impulse to flee from it. “You should go to bed,” he says, voice strained. “Get some sleep.”

You stand up as well. “But I’m wide awake.”

“That’s not my problem.”

“Eris, please,” you nearly beg and he finds his feet rooted to the ground. He watches as you walk over to your chair, retrieving the coat he let you borrow. You extend it toward him–a silent promise you won’t push him further on his scars. “We can talk about other things.”

He feels his throat tighten at the urgency in your eyes. “Like what?”

"Like…" Your voice trails off, your attention turning to the scattered items on your desk. "Embroidery?" you suggest, showing him one of your unfinished projects. It’s an outline of a yellow flower he has seen before but cannot recognize at the moment.

"You want to talk about...embroidery?" His tone lightens, a subtle easing of tension as he slips into his coat and watches you raise another one. Unlike the first one you showed him, this one is finished and beautifully depicts a white horse with a brown mane and tail.

“This one is of my horse,” you share with pride, a subtle smile gracing your face. The warmth in your expression acts as an irresistible pull for Eris, compelling him to sit back down. "His name is Maximus.”

"I think I miss him the most," you add, the smile on your face faltering.

It prompts Eris to speak–to keep it from falling. “It’s beautiful.”

Your smile, like the sun breaking through clouds, brightens once more. You’re beautiful, he wants to add.

“Would you like me to teach you?”

Even though he knows he should leave, he finds himself nodding. Because the prospect of your smile faltering, of you returning to your state from earlier becomes an unbearable thought.

He secures a glamor in your room to keep the guard outside your door from hearing you. Having spent centuries studying the wards in every room, he’s learned how to unravel some pieces of them. Eris allows you to teach him the craft of embroidery. He tries to take in every instruction of yours and finds himself not lost in the craft but lost in the light in your eyes, the delightful curve of your smile as you speak.

As the daughter of a powerful and influential merchant, you’ve stayed in every court and have so many captivating stories to tell. You speak so highly of your father that he doesn’t have it in him to tell you about his dark truth–the real reason behind your arranged marriage. The delicate pricks of the thin needle against his fingers go unnoticed, drowned out by the melody of your laughter, which proves irresistibly contagious. The bond in his chest hums with a resonance that echoes through his being. He wonders, a smaller part of him fervently hoping, if you can feel it too.

Eris stays until your voice trails off–until the heaviness of your eyelids becomes an insurmountable burden, causing you to slump against the softness of the pillows. The temptation to tenderly brush your hair back from your face is strong, but he restrains the impulse.

“Eris?” Your voice, laced with the soft tendrils of sleep, reaches him.

“Yes?”

“Does this mean we’re friends now?”

The word—friends—sends a pang through him, but nevertheless, he manages a gentle "yes," reluctant to shatter the moment by uttering the truth that lies beneath the surface of his emotions. He doesn’t want to be your friend. He wants to be more than just your friend.

A soft content hum comes from you, the only response you can manage. Mindful not to disturb your peaceful slumber, he beckons one of the blankets from your bed with his magic before carefully draping it over your curled up form at the window nook. He quietly draws the curtains shut, shielding you from the intrusion of the rising sun. He positions the embroidery hoop, adorned with the laughable but endearing image of the heart he crafted, beside you. He turns to leave but sneaks one last glance at you. Only then does he allow himself to truly smile.

Eris does not return the following night, even though he desperately wants to. Caution dictates his actions, a week elapsing before a clandestine note passed in the hallway signals his quiet return to your room. It’s during this second visit that he inevitably gives away the hidden door in your room. They lead to the house’s secret tunnels, one only Eris knows well. He promises you to take you through them one day.

It’s half past twelve and as the autumn winds blow outside your window, you're not alone this time. Eris is there with you, weaving conversations that never seem to run dry. An unspoken agreement unfolds–to keep your growing friendship hidden and away from everyone. He continues to sneak into your room, always warning you beforehand as to not scare you. The sacrifice of sleep on these nights becomes inconsequential, for both you and him.

Eris helps you chase your shadows away, taking you through the darkness to the break of the day. Your man after midnight. The soul that heard your prayer.

A wrought-iron table, nestled under a cascading canopy of amber leaves, holds an exquisite spread of breakfast delicacies. The air is laced with the enticing aroma of freshly brewed tea, mingling with the sweet fragrance of the flowers that surround you. Lady Autumn, whose name you learned is Raelynn, sits across from you. Her eyes, as deep as the autumnal twilight, reflect warmth back at you–no traces of the lingering sadness you’ve witnessed before in this moment.

“My apologies, my dear, for not inviting you to breakfast sooner.” Even her voice is as warm as her gaze. “I know this court is not an easy one to adjust to.”

You find yourself smiling in reassurance back at her. Because you understand. If you were her, you’d also be wary of any newcomer.

“Eris tells me you enjoy embroidery?” Lady Raelynn says, a knowing smile playing on her lips as she brings her cup to her mouth. “Among other things.”

“I do,” you answer politely, gaze drifting to the perfectly tended lawn across from the patio you sit at. Targets for archery are neatly arranged. There’s an arrow embedded into the bull’s eyes of every one of them.

Lady Raelynn follows your gaze. “Are you interested in archery?”

Yes, you want to say and though you find comfort in Lady Autumn’s presence, you're wary of her reaction. What if she deems it unlady like? And decides to forgo any relationship you’ve desperately clung to the hope to?

“I don’t know much about it,” you reply, choosing a diplomatic response.

“I can teach you.” Lady Raelynn’s smile morphs into a grin. A gasp escapes you, and realization slowly etches itself into your features. “I think we’ll get along just fine,” she laughs, her words sparking hope within you.

“Good morning mother, I’ve come to–” Both of your heads turn to find Eris. He halts mid-sentence, his gaze locking with yours, a flicker of surprise and something deeper dancing in his eyes. It has you averting your gaze with a slight warmth tinting your cheeks. “I should leave.”

“No, stay,” Lady Raelynn insists with a graceful incline of her head. With a wave of her hand, a plate full of food materializes at the empty spot between you and her, a silent invitation for Eris to join.

Eris bows his head at his mother, acknowledging her command. He takes his place at the table, his movements a bit awkward at first. As he settles in, he can't help the warming relief that washes over him at the sight of both you and his mother taking his advice. He remains relatively quiet throughout breakfast, choosing to chime in only when necessary. He’s content to bask in the soothing cadence of your conversation with his mother, indulging in stolen glances at you that linger.

Something that does not go unnoticed by his keen mother nor the way his grip tightens around his fork at the mention of your upcoming wedding.

Lady Raelynn didn’t mean to spoil the mood but she had taken it upon herself to help you plan the ceremony and reception. Albeit, reluctantly at first. That all changed after getting to know you better. Although the marriage would not be to the man of your dreams, she was now determined in ensuring that the wedding would be. It was the least she could do for you, especially after learning about the mistreatment you had endured at the hands of her sons.

“I hope my son is treating you well?” Lady Raelynn asks you, carrying a note of concern. Her observant eyes catch the brief exchange between you and Eris, not missing the slightest tint that graces his cheeks. At least one of them is. She suppresses a smile as she awaits your answer.

“Sawyer is…” your voice trails off hesitant because he’s barely spoken to you since the incident. One of the rare occurrences being where he randomly met you in the library. He had reluctantly engaged in conversation with you, awkwardly asking what you missed the most from home. A spark of optimism brightens your tone because for once, you do have something good to say about him.

“He is actually arranging for my horse to come here! It’s silly but my horse was my biggest companion back home and I’ve been feeling a bit homesick recently.”

“It’s not silly at all, my dear. Once your horse is here, let's arrange for a morning ride. The Autumn grounds are the most peaceful in the early hours."

Your smile reflects the gratitude in your heart as you look at Lady Autumn. She, in turn, observes her son, who raises his tea to his lips, attempting to conceal the small smile playing on his face. It does nothing to mask the gleam in his eyes. Lady Raelynn is well aware that the sweet gesture is not Sawyer's doing. It's Eris's.

a/n: sooo I'm literally just going with vibes for this series (vibes to songs as that is what inspires most of these.) I wanted to write a slow burn but tbh, I think I'm too impatient for that 😂

When it comes to Sawyer, I do want to explore more of his character. I know that in canon, the Vanserras are menaces but I'd like to hope there's at least one more redeeming brother. I feel like him and reader can fall into a relationship similar to that of Rhaenyra and Laenor from House of Dragon. I also am still stuck between having the marriage actually go through or something drastic that happens that keeps it from happening. Either way, it will be angsty. I left some references in this from a movie that may prompt for more references from said movie. Any guesses? 👀

tagging: @fxckmiup

#eris x reader #eris x y/n #eris x you #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x you #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #eris imagine #eris one shot #acotar x y/n #acotar fanfiction #acotar one shot #acotar!abba #eris vandaddy #eris angel au

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thelov3lybookworm · 8 months

Text

Remember Me? (Part three)

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: Under the Mountain, Y/n met the High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand. She was scared of him, but soon she found out that he wasn't who he pretended to be. Despite her efforts at not falling in love with him, she fails. It's not that bad as he loves her back.

But now he's gone, and she's left alone with nothing.

Except for a very adorable reminder of him.

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: secret pregnancy, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

A/n: sorry this one's a little short, but I thought I shouldn't keep you all waiting for long. Hopefully things would speed up in the story after this. Enjoy!

•○🌑○•

A knock sounded on the door, and her son immediately jumped up, running towards it.

Y/n followed him, shaking her head with a smile. She opened the door while he hopped from one foot to the other. As soon as the door opened, a little body darted in, and Fin and his friend– his brother– ran off into the living room where her son had already spread out his toys.

Feyre called after Nyx, saying something about manners and etiquette, but Y/n told her to let the child be. Feyre then turned to Y/n, a nervous expression on her face.

"Hi. Um... I hope I not intruding. Nyx wouldn't rest until he met with his brother." Then she added hastily, "That's how he described Finnian."

Y/n smiled. "It's okay. You're not intruding. And Fin is happy too, so no harm done."

Feyre finally relaxed. "Rhys doesn't know about this. I told him that i was taking Nyx out for a mother son day in Velaris."

Y/n smiled gratefully as the two women walked to the living room. She knew she could trust Feyre. And even if her judgement was false, then atleast Rhys wasn't here yet. So that was progress.

As the two little boys played, their mothers talked. At first, it started with talking about their pasts and childhood. How they grew up, and that, despite the vast differences in their living conditions, they had mostly same lives. Feyre was poor, and she didn't have the freedom to explore things that would have caught any little girl's fancy because she was busy trying to keep the family going.

And how, despite Y/n having been born in a rich family, she didn't have any freedom. Because, being of the elite class came with more shackles. She had to dress up and sit all pretty, waiting for when her father eventually decided to sell her off.

They talked and laughed, forgetting they were supposed to hate each other. They didn't notice how long they sat there until it was time to leave. Feyre abruptly stopped talking, her eyes going distant before focusing back on Y/n. She smiled helplessly.

"It was Rhys. He was asking when we were going to return."

"Oh. You're leaving?"

"We have to, or he might become suspicious or insist on joining us. He thinks we are just having a walk around Velaris." Turning to the boys who were drawing, sprawled on the floor, Feyre stood up. "Nyx, come. We have to go."

"No." Nyx whined. "I want to play more."

Feyre blinked, taken aback. "Dad– daddy's waiting for us. Don't you want to go out with him and play?"

"Tell him to play with uncle Cass and Az." Nyx didn't look up from whatever they were drawing, looking at Fin's paper before going back to his.

"He could be missing you."

"But I'm not missing him." The little boy sat up as Fin watched the exchange happening between his brother and his mother. Y/n could practically see the gears churning in his brilliant little head, but she was not sure what might be going on there.

"He should go to sleep. If he sleeps, time will pass quickly for him and he will not miss me in his sleep." Nyx splayed his palms, speaking as if Feyre was a child and she was refusing to understand something of importance.

Y/n huffed out a laugh as Feyre hid her smile behing a hand. She then spoke gently, trying to convince Nyx. "We have important work to do at home baby. We'll meet with Fin again sometime soon." She faltered, glancing at Y/n, who turned to Nyx.

"Yes Nyx, your mommy is right. You should go home to your daddy. You can come here whenever you want to play with your brother." Feyre smiled gratefully at her when Nyx finally stood up.

Before they left, the boys embraced each other and Y/n kissed Nyx's cheek, Feyre doing the same for Fin.

At night when Y/n was getting Fin ready for bed, he asked something that stopped Y/n's whole world.

"Mama... where is my daddy? I want a daddy too." His voice was so quiet, if she hadn't been listening to it intently, she wouldn't have heard him over the sound of rain pouring heavily over Velaris. "I do have a daddy, don't I? Everyone has a daddy right?"

She froze, her hand resting on his shoulder as she stared at him with wide eyes. "Darling... yes, you do have a daddy. But why do you want to meet him? Did someone say something?"

"Sam was playing with his dad yesterday, and this morning he asked where my dad was. I told him I didn't have one, but he laughed at me. He said everyone has a daddy. And then Nyx was also talking about his daddy today, though it seemed like he didn't want to meet him."

Tears pricked in Y/n eyes, but she tamped it down. She didn't know how to answer his questions. This little boy was so innocent and full of life, and she didn't want to break his world by telling him the truth. He wasn't old enough for that. So she did the only thing that she could think of. She lied.

"You do have a daddy, but he has some important work somewhere else. As soon as he's done, he'll come back to you."

"Really?" When she nodded, he jumped excitedly. "Did he love me like Nyx's and Sam's daddy love them?"

"Yes baby, he loves you very much. But don't you think we should go to sleep? We can talk about this tomorrow."

Fin nodded happily before plopping down on her bed. She smiled, swallowing the lump in her throat.

He had been sleeping with her since the encounter with Rhys had left her reeling. Everywhere she went, she was always looking over her shoulder, feeling like he was watching them. Even in her own home she felt unsafe. She had this fear that Rhys would whisk her precious son away in the middle of the night when she was unaware.

A knock sounded before she could get into bed, and she furrowed her brow. Who could be here at this hour?

She stood and made her way to the front door, and stilled when she opened the door to find a beautiful male standing there dripping wet from the rain.

She wasn't shocked because of the fact that someone would be here seeking shelter from the rain. What shocked her was the person. Who it was.

Eris.

"Hello little one." He smiled at someone behind her shoulder, and she stiffened again.

"Hi!" Fin laughed, waving. "You're here!"

•○🌑○•

Part 4

Taglist: @awoa1 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @luvmoo @we-were-beautiful @eerievixen @zoe2 @fussel9913 @j-pendragonx @thesnugglingduck @jesssicapaniagua @devilsnightz @esposadomd @littleffawn @mandowhatnow @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @nightless @princesslolaasworld @asemkta @cat-or-kitten @txzii @bunnyredgirl @theofficialmadman @leeknows-wife @aria-chikage @amygdtjhddzvb @azriels-mate123 @inky-clover @kemillyfreitas

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emmitaaa4 · 2 months

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“Elriel is too predictable! It’s boring & lazy writing!”

… 🧍‍♂️

My brother in Christ. You call SJM the fated mates author. Through 15+ books and 3 series she hasn’t diverged from that trope. Elain has a “mate”.

If an Elriel outcome is predictable, it’s because the author willed it so and therefore ✨wrote scenes✨ to ✨develop their relationship✨.

and by that i mean…

(long post ahead…. bear with me)

SJM wrote Mr. “I don’t need to resort to poetry” going all Azriel Allan Poe, flustered as he tells Elain “we are born hearing the song of the wind”. She wrote him uncharacteristically open & talkative, while when he 1st met Feyre he deferred all her questions to others.

SJM wrote that despite how different they may look, Elain does not balk from Az. She never has: from their 1st meeting she finds comfort in him, and he in turn notices her—she’s never been afraid of him, he has always seen her.

SJM wrote the 1st coherent thing to come out of Elain’s mouth in WaR to be “beautiful” as she beholds Azriel’s scarred hands. In turn, she wrote our gardener not minding imperfections on hers, for despite her lady-like conditioning, she prefers to get her hands dirty.

SJM wrote Az spending time with her in the sunshine: no forced conversation, no one hEaLinG anyone, just them both doing their own thing as a relaxed Az suns his wings. Just two pals comfortable with one another… which SJM foreshadowed in MaF through Feyre’s “Elain would likely cling to Az for some peace and quiet”.

SJM wrote Az and Cass both stilling at the sight of El & Nes, she wrote Az cutting in to set Elain up in her garden even as Feyre was about to do it, she wrote the mention that Elain was safe after the twin raven’s attack bc Az had stayed with her at the townhouse.

SJM wrote Azriel’s eyes churning as he looks at Elain and her too-thin body, before abruptly winnowing away, and we’re left with Mor looking at the spot where he left. Wonder what that was about (it certainly did not remind me of Rhys in TaR).

You know, Elriels are not just making stuff up and theorizing about the E/ucien bond cause we’re desperately pulling at straws…

SJM had Madja say “a mate would know if something is amiss”, then wrote a scene juxtaposing both Lucien’s and Azriel’s reactions/assessments of what was going on with Elain… and she had Azriel be the one to know nothing was “wrong” with her—no, she just had rare powers and needed to be heard, to be taken seriously. He didn't let her be misunderstood, for he was the ONLY one that listened to her, that took her visions/ramblings seriously right from the get go. And so he gave Elain the understanding she needed to free herself from the dream-like murky realm she was trapped in. Through it all, SJM emphasizes that Azriel also understands what it is like to struggle with rare, strange, prized powers in silence; what it’s like to be othered by them. I’ve said it before and i’ll say it again: she sees everything and he hears everything.

SJM wrote that “Elain had hoped that love would trump even a mating bond” and had her characters question the Cauldron in relation to Elucien *twice* (years apart!).

…

SJM wrote Az being the only one—in a room full of Made beings speaking of being Made—to notice that Elain was missing. A reassuring but empty statement by Cass that they’d get her back….but then it was Azriel that stated, eyes glowing golden, that HE would be getting her back, despite the girl’s own sister discouraging him & telling him he’d die. Hell, Feyre had this whole deliberation on whether she’d join him only after he’d say he’d go. His initiative.

The Hybern scene is too long to add, but this post and this theory break it all down brilliantly.

Yes, Az has sacrificial tendencies. Yes, he’d risk his life for loved ones in general. But we have never seen him this affected, and it is because SJM purposely used language to emphasize Elain and Azriel’s meaningful reactions to the other… despite it being wholly “unnecessary”

It is all intentional… lazy’s antonym.

SJM wrote the Truthteller scene. She emphasized the exchange, which left Cassian gasping and Rhys flabbergasted; it also left Feyre with a significant painting in her mind. It lead to Elain, aka ��my God has answered me,” stepping out of a shadow to save her sister. Azriel, aka “God is my help”, indeed helped armed Elain so she could answer her sisters prayers.

SJM ended WaR with Elain’s smile literally lighting up Az’s shadows.

SJM had Elain’s thoughtful gift to him make his eyes the brightest we’ve seen—and by doing so gave us the most beautiful description of his earthy eyes, “the hues of green amid the brown and gray like veins of emerald.” We have never seen Az so joyful & carefree throughout the entire series.

SJM wrote that Azriel beat Feyre to Elain’s side as she was looking out into the night. She wrote Elain stilling at the sight of a dashing Azriel—her throat bobbing—while Az “just moved towards her”.

SJM wrote the potato scene—“sit i’ll take care of it”—Azriel again being the one to respect Elain’s presence & contribution as he makes a room full of his “superiors” wait until Elain finishes tidying herself up (cause girlie wanted to look put together for a certain shadowsinger). Mor gapes, Amren smirks, Rhys talks of Az’s mom… all because of that surprising, singular behaviour from him.

SJM wrote Az making a joke at Amren’s expense upon noticing Elain’s discomfort; our girl’s shoulders indeed relax in relief. THE LIGHT RETURNS IN HER EYES.

SJM has Azriel staying up past 3am with Elain, listening to her speak of something she is passionate of.

SJM wrote Azriel spending an entire convo with his brothers looking out into the garden from the window (SJM mentioned it 4 times yet some still missed it).

SJM wrote Rhys goading Az for a reaction as he quizzes him on Lucien and Grayson; wrote Rhys realizing that Azriel did not want to know what Elain did with Lucien (in the case she did anything). She wrote Azriel nervously stuttering as he asks risks if they need to get the sisters a present… I wonder why.

And Rosehall… SJM wrote ROSEhall: cracktheory this cracktheory that, to the gwonriels I’d say we both know you wouldn’t say it’s irrelevant had SJM chosen to call his estate Tealhall.

~~~~

Keep in mind: SJM could have written those significant scenes and ultimately kept it PG: she could have chosen language that built up a profound platonic relationship.

Yet… in MaF she has Feyre comment that they would be good together—as in make a good *couple*. WaR roles in and they’re both dealing with the very public rejections they went through—but SJM had them build a quiet companionship in the background, while giving them a wealth of scenes of great significance for both their characters, and while using language like “she DEVOURED the sight of him” “he CRADLED her to his chest”. In FaS they are slowly but surely getting over their last loves, and SJM continues developing their connection.

And in ACOSF, in the book that supposedly “ended” Elriel…

SJM wrote Az following the sound of her laugh (😭). “ It’s just lust” PLEASE BFFR.

SJM chose to remind us—THREE times—of the Hybern rescue scene... then had Az tell Cass that he’d know, in his chest, if something happened to Nesta.

SJM had Az longingly stare at the gift Elain gave him every night for a YEAR—mind plagued by thoughts of her—made him so affected by her that he had reactions to every mention of her name in SF, so affected that it took Nes one look at them to notice his feelings, to reach out in comfort upon noticing the pain that keeping himself apart from to her caused him. As SJM said she would, Nes saw through his secret in ACOSF, still it is “his secret to tell, never hers”. After Solstice we are met with a grumpy Azriel, who lost the snowball fight for the 1st time in centuries (i wonder why…).

SJM chose to link his every secret back to his feelings for Elain, as per the bonus . Why does he stay up so late and wake up so early? He longs for Elain so much he can’t sleep. Why is he staying in the HoW? It is too hard to be close to Elain given their circumstances; he must physically distance himself from her. Why has he moved on from Mor after centuries? Elain. Why is he grumpy post Solstice? The argument with Rhys concerning Elain.

~~~~

Ultimately, SJM wrote for Elriel:

- Complementary imagery (flowers and death? light and dark blending together to form something new… DUSK, anyone?)

- AND plot altering scenes

- AND chose to liken them to one another multiple times

- AND genuine moments of companionship that slowly bloomed into something more…

… Is it so insane to believe that maybe SJM spent so much page time and effort building connections & common ground between them because she intends for elain & az to find peace and quiet within one another?

Or idk, maybe it was all for shits and giggles… and if it was i salute her commitment to the shits and the giggles🫡

Either way, it is the opposite of lazy writing…

It’s SJM’s world & words, and we are just reading them.

P.S: This was all just typed on my cell phone from the top of my head… yes remembering all this is probs concerning, yes I am obsessed. Please correct me if I got anything wrong.

#elain archeron #azriel #elriel #pro elriel #azriel shadowsinger #pro elain #pro azriel #acomaf #acowar #acosf #elain x azriel #elucien-bond #antigwynriel #not even anti; just pro common sense

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britany1997 · 20 days

Text

Fate Yields For No One

Chapter Five

Well y’all, it’s been a month so you know what that means:):) Hope you enjoy the next installment in the series! I can’t wait to show y’all how this fic is going to develop even further!

Poly Lost Boys x Max’s Daughter Reader

Comment to be added to my Taglist for this fic or for all my Lost Boys fics!

FYFNO Masterlist

California, 1986

The boys were too stunned to speak.

Until Paul abruptly broke the silence with a resounding “what the fuck.”

You pulled away from Maria’s embrace when a familiar voice shattered your moment. You sighed, pushing your frustration down and turning to glare at the blond menace.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t alone.

The same feeling you’d had when you’d met Paul a couple weeks ago surged through you once more as you met eyes with each of his friends.

The bleach blond one looked disgusted, almost angry, with his eyes narrowed and his mouth fixed into a sneer.

The curly haired one bit his gloved thumb, his eyes skittered back and forth between you, Maria, and his friends. He bounced, shifting his weight back and forth from one foot to the other, practically vibrating.

The dark haired one was unreadable. Your eyes narrowed as you took in his expression. You searched for nervousness, anger, sadness, anything. But his face revealed nothing, it was almost intriguing.

Paul looked broken. His mouth slightly agape and his eyes resembling those of a kicked puppy. Despite his pitiful appearance, you couldn’t find it in yourself to feel any remorse.

You reminded yourself that you’d always been entitled to make your own damn choices.

The little utterances of “mine” that broke through their lips meant nothing to you. You had never belonged to anyone but yourself. And you had always been your own to give.

You crossed your arms and scowled, daring them to intrude any further on your time with Maria.

You felt a hand slide along your cheek, turning your head slowly until you were faced with your lover.

“Hey,” she soothed, staring into your eyes with a slightly nervous gaze. You softened immediately.

“It’s getting late, we’re already closed, and it seems like you need to talk this out,” she said gently.

You took her soft hands in your own. “No, please don’t go,” you pleaded, “it’s them who should leave.”

When she smiled, it didn’t reach her eyes.

“We’re working the night shift together tomorrow,” she reminded you, “figure this out ok? I’ll be here.”

She leaned in to kiss your cheek, “I’ll always be here for you ok?”

“Ok,” you whispered back as you stroked her face softly, causing a blush to rise on her cheeks.

Paul cleared his throat loudly and you shot him a glare that would have peeled paint.

Maria’s hand over yours calmed you down just a bit. She reassured you with a smile before she slipped out the front door.

With Maria gone, you were free to feel the depth of your frustration at the four men before you.

“What do you want?” You grit out through clenched teeth.

Paul threw up his hands, “what is wrong with you?”

Your face flushed red, half with embarrassment, and half with anger. You clenched your fists. Nothing was wrong with you. Something was clearly wrong with him because he couldn’t. take. a hint.

The dark haired vampire shot Paul a look that seemed to reign him in. Then he stepped forward to put himself between you and the three other men.

“I’m Dwayne,” he introduced himself gently, his face still devoid of any emotion.

“Ok,” you spat, “congratulations.”

His mask broke a bit, looking slightly taken aback by your hostility, but he quickly composed himself.

“We just want to talk,” he said, his hands up in a sort of surrender, “let us explain some things to you.”

Your eyes narrowed, and without Maria there to diffuse the situation, your arms crossed again.

“Explain things to me?” You felt rage bubbling up inside you, “what could you possibly have to explain to me?”

Dwayne, to his credit, maintained his calm, collected demeanor. The bleach blond however seemed to be seething behind him.

“It’s hard to know where to start…we’re your-”

“I know.” You cut him off.

“You know?”

“I know what you are, and I know what we are,” you flashed him your fangs.

The four boys couldn’t hide their shock. The bleach blond one pushed past Dwayne to stare you down. “You’re not a human,” he mused.

Dwayne placed a hand on his shoulder, “David…” he warned.

David rolled his shoulder to shove off Dwayne’s hand.

“Listen sweetheart,”

You scowled at the pointed nickname.

“You’re ours,” Paul cringed at David’s words.

“The sooner you get it through your thick head,” David tapped your forehead, causing you to bare your teeth, “the better.”

“Oh fuck,” Paul whispered.

You stared David down, your body shaking slightly in anger. “If you ever fucking touch me again I will rip your head from your shoulders and burn your decapitated body you arrogant asshole,” You hissed.

He hissed back, his fangs on full display.

“David please,” the curly hair vampire begged.

“Marko,” David turned to growl, “I won’t tolerate this kind of insubordination.”

You gripped the edge of the video store desk so hard you thought it might break off.

Dwayne yanked David back by his arm. With the way the bleach blond man glared at the him you thought they might come to blows.

“Do you think you’re helping right now?” Dwayne asked.

David rolled his eyes, “she’s disrespecting me, she’s disrespecting us.” he glared at you.

You scowled back, trying to seem unfazed by his egotistical display.

“Is that what she’s doing?” Dwayne asked, “or is she setting boundaries and making choices you don’t like?”

Your hostile face dissolved to shock. You weren’t expecting that kind of support.

“Love can’t be forced,” Dwayne continued, “you know that, I know you know that.”

David stared at Dwayne before sighing deeply.

You tensed when he moved towards you. “This isn’t over,” he hissed.

You scoffed, “yeah that’s what he said,” you hooked your thumb towards Paul, “I’ll tell you what I told him. It sure seems like it is.”

David’s eyes narrowed but he kept his mouth shut.

“C’mon boys,” he gestured for the men to follow him out of the store.

Dwayne didn’t even glance back as he left.

Marko shot you a longing look, but when you looked away, he sighed before following Dwayne out the door.

Paul lingered. He opened his mouth, only to close it, time after time.

“What do you want?” you scowled.

“We could make you happy,” he said in the softest voice you’d ever heard. “I could make you happy.”

You stared at him, his eyes full of hope and desire.

“If you really want me to be happy…”

He moved closer, hanging on every word you said. His fists clenched at his side, desperate to touch you but holding back.

“Then I need you to leave me alone.”

His face fell, any hope in his eyes had shattered and dissolved.

He turned away, dead heart breaking in his chest.

“Ok,” was all he could muster as he too disappeared from the store.

As soon as he’d slipped from sight, you rushed to the front door to flip the sign from open to closed.

Grateful for the solace that an empty store provided, you slunk to the back room to mull over the events of the night.

You slid down the door until you were seated, head in hands. Part of you wondered if it would be so bad to give in. The Dwayne guy seemed respectful and kind enough, and if you were honest with yourself, you weren’t unattracted to him either.

If you were really honest, you weren’t unattracted to any of them. Except that David asshole.

It wasn’t his face that bothered you, but his abismal attitude. He might as well have been Max Jr.

He didn’t own you. No one fucking did.

Then there was Maria.

Her beautiful face flashed through your mind. She was kind, she was brilliant, she was caring, and you could see yourself falling for her one day.

God you’d had your first kiss with Maria tonight and you were thinking about those possessive vamps?

How could you ever consider trading her in for these four strangers with nothing but some kind of empty ‘claim’ on you.

You sighed.

You couldn’t deny that you’d felt the pull. You blamed your stupid, uncontrollable vampire instincts.

But what was lust, passion, and desire when compared with connection, comfort, and love?

Maria was the one you wanted. You chose her, and you’d do what you had to to keep her.

Whatever it took.

FYFNO Taglist❤️:

@sad-ghost-of-garbage @6lostgirl6 @misslavenderlady @anna1306 @hypocriticaltypwriter @crustyboypix @kurt-nightcrawler @bitchyexpertprincess @arenpath @lostboys1987girl @vampirefilmlover @dwaynedelight @dwaynesluscioushair @ria-coolgirl @katerinaval @royaltysuite @mack-attack420 @arbesa-mind @fraudfrog @rynsfandomsfun @vxarak @f4iryfxies @chiefdirector @ghostedghostie @its-freaking-bats @solobagginses @warrior-616 @softchonk @walmart-cereal @bloodywickedvamp @mickkmaiden333 @people-are-strange-87 @smut-religiously777 @welcome-to-the-hole @simplyreading96 @blenna3967 @justaspeachy @mihawksdemoness @mad-is-sad @pookiesnatcher @jezabella8 @drascilla @ilikechocolatemilkh @charlotteellis @mommymilkerfanclub @lazygrungekid @buzzybee-26 @sarcastic-sourwolf @cocopuffs1450 @jamie-poopoo @kristel1990 @the-lonely-abyss @hxrror01

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sturnioloshacker · 6 months

Text

silly arguments - a matt sturniolo short

a/n: requested by anon; lowercase intended

cw: a bit of angst but fluffy at the end

summary: a silly argument gets heated between matt and his girlfriend, resulting in an unexpected move

y/n and matt had been in a relationship for years, their love unbreakable, or so they thought. sitting on the couch in the triplets’ house, they found themselves in a heated argument over the most trivial matter - whether to watch a romantic comedy or an action-packed thriller.

“matt, i really wanted to watch that romantic movie tonight," y/n pleaded.

matt rolled his eyes, frustration building.

“come on, y/n, we watched a romantic movie last time. can't we watch something exciting for a change?"

the tension in the room grew thicker with each word they exchanged. y/n, overwhelmed by her boyfriend’s increasingly harsh tone, felt her eyes welling up with tears. she looked at him, her voice trembling.

“matt, can't we just compromise, please?"

but matt, blinded by his stubbornness, snapped.

“compromise? you always get your way! i can never do what i want in this relationship."

startled and hurt by matt’s outburst, y/n flinched when he moved abruptly. it was a reaction she couldn't control, a deep-seated fear of confrontation that stemmed from her past. without a word, she stood up, wiping away her tears and headed towards the door. matt immediately regretted his harsh words and reached out for her.

“princess, i’m so sorry. i didn't mean to snap like that. please, let's talk this out."

but y/n, struggling to hold back her tears, shook her head.

“i need some space, matt. i’ll be back when i’m ready."

the door closed behind her, leaving matt alone in the dimly lit room, feeling a profound sense of guilt. he knew he had crossed a line. hours passed, and y/n found herself sitting on a park bench, the cool breeze helping to calm her racing thoughts. as the sun set, she received a text from matt, apologising once more and expressing how much he missed her. with her heartache subsiding, y/n decided to give matt a second chance.

y: I need some time, but we can talk tomorrow

m: okay, see you tomorrow. i love you ❤️

read 9:17pm

the following day, they met in the park, where they had their first date. they shared their feelings, apologised, and learned from the argument. their love, stronger than a silly disagreement, brought them closer as they promised to communicate better in the future. as the sun dipped below the horizon, y/n and matt sat together, holding hands, and watching the sky turn a beautiful shade of pink. their fluffy ending was a reminder that even in the toughest of times, love could weather any storm.

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo imagine #sturniolo triplets angst #sturniolo triplets fluff #sturniolo triplets fanfic #sturniolo triplets imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets x reader

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cherrycheridarling · 11 months

Text

cherry | h.s.

harry styles x famous!reader

warnings: sad? it's a rollercoaster

summary: how 'cherry' came to be

wc: 2.5k

a/n: can be read w/ baby or on its own

are we rlly surprised abt this? look at my user;)

'Don't you call him baby.'

Harry sat on his plush couch, telly on volume 11 as interviews from The Emmys went live.

"Here we have Y/N Y/L/N! Looking as gorgeous as ever! How are you?" the man asked as he kissed both of your cheeks.

Harry had to agree with the man. You were a stunning picture in a skintight iridescent gown that somehow left little and just enough to the imagination at the same time. The dainty silver accents adorning your ears and wrists, chest bare with a slight shimmer of something that wasn't sweat or glitter, but just pure radiance in Harry's eyes.

You adjusted your stance before answering, "Good, good. And yourself?"

"Fantastic! I hear you're nominated for three awards tonight! Congratulations! How do you feel about all of that?" Harry wasn't surprised by your achievements seeing as he kept his tabs on you ever since the breakup.

You nodded with a timid smile, "I am, yes. It's all a little nerve wracking if I'm being honest with you."

The man grinned before it looked like his attention had been stolen by someone else, "Oh look, there we have your knight in shining armour!"

The camera panned to Tom Holland walking in your direction. Harry forced himself to watch as Tom came to stand beside you and kissed your cheek with an arm around your waist. Even with the microphone being unable to pick up your voices, your small interaction could be read off your lips.

"Hello, darling." Tom's lips moved as he winked.

"Hi, baby." your smile was warm as you spoke.

Harry abruptly turned off his telly at that moment. Memories of that name being used to address him flooded his brain. He threw his head back against the cushions and let the sting wash over him. It'd been a little less than a year since you guys called it quits, but the wounds still bled.

'We're not talking lately.'

"Do you remember that promise we made?" you asked as Harry rested his forehead against your knees while your fingers ran through his hair.

You felt him nod as a tear rolled down your cheek for the hundredth time. "We'd always stay friends and support each other even if we don't last." he replied from below you on his knees while you were sat on the couch.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, "Can I adjust that promise?"

His movements seize the second the question left your lips. He lifted his head and met your glossy gaze with an equally bloodshot one.

"What do you mean?" his voice quivered in a way that made your heart shatter.

You slid your thumb along his cheekbone, "We need time apart to move on, ange. No communication while we deal with this. We can still support each other and love each other, but we need space in order to let each other go. Wouldn't you agree?"

Harry pondered on it for a moment before slightly nodding, "I guess so."

Neither of you said a word after that, just continuing to hold each other until the morning light came in and reminded you that everything still moves on even if you haven't.

'Don't you call him what you used to call me.'

July 23rd 2017:

"Baby, can you grab my purse for me, please?" you semi-shouted from the bottom of the stairs in your home.

Not a minute later, Harry came waltzing down towards you, "I wasn't sure which one you wanted today, so I took it upon myself to choose this one." he held up the Prada shoulder purse with a proud smile.

October 17th 2017:

"No." you deadpanned, but at his immediate frown you continued "Baby, I'm not dressing up as a socket so you can be the plug." you laughed incredulously at his suggestion.

Harry threw his hands in the air, "Come on! That would be the best costume ever!"

December 25th 2017:

"Happy Christmas, baby." you smiled at the man on your phone screen.

His lips turned down into a frown that somehow still looked like a smile, "Happy Christmas, darling. Wish we were together today."

January 1st 2018:

"Happy new year!" Harry screamed along with the room before turning to his love, "No one else I'd rather enter the year with." he smiled softly at you before meeting your lips with a kiss.

Confetti fell around you, champagne broke through the cheers with a 'pop' and yet, to you, it was silent, and there was no one there but him.

You broke apart still grinning, "Happy new year, baby."

'I, I confess I can tell that you are at your best. I'm selfish so I'm hating it.'

"And the Oscar for Best Actress goes to...!" Kevin Hart unfolded the envelope and immediately broke into a wide grin, "Y/N Y/L/N!"

The applause was immediate and deafening. You barely registered the first syllable of your name being called as everyone around you began to congratulate you and shower you with hugs.

You slowly made your way to the stage, being careful to not trip. You greeted Kevin with a hug as he handed you the award and your hands shook. As you stood in front of the mic, your mouth opened and closed like a fish.

"I-I- what?" you finally managed to sputter out as everyone chuckled.

You managed to get your wits about you and began to give out your thanks, while failing to notice the man in the audience who was holding back tears for you.

Jeff leaned over to Harry, "I know this is tough, but there will be cameras on you. Be careful of your expressions." he whispered as Harry momentarily shut his eyes and inhaled deeply.

Harry managed to plaster on a faux smile that would fool anyone else except you. He was ashamed of himself; he should be happy for you, he should've been on his feet cheering for you. But he couldn't. He refused to do that from 12 rows away when he should've been sat beside you. The smile on your face, the glow in your skin. All of it was something he hadn't seen since you were together and seeing it now only brought pain and sorrow to him.

He wished he had stayed home, but Jeff had convinced him that moping around in his home was only fuelling the rumours surrounding your break up, so he watched as you took your seat again and only when the next category was being announced did he excuse himself to the washroom and let the tears flow.

'I noticed that there's a piece of you in how I dress. Take it as a compliment.'

"Darling!" Harry's voice came booming from your temporarily shared home.

You sat on the couch in the living room and threw your head back, "Yes?!"

"Where's your striped jumper?!" he replied from your walk in closet.

You chose not to reply and instead left your seat to see what chaos he had caused. Upon entering your closet, there were piles of clothes on the floor and shoes tossed in every direction.

You chuckled, "What is going on?"

Harry's head snapped towards you, "I have an interview in 30 minutes and I need that jumper. Please, darling, help." he pouted at you.

You laughed a little more before walking out of the closet and pulling the sweater from a chair next to your bed. You cleared your throat while dangling the sweater from your finger and smirked, "Really should wear your glasses more often."

He covered his face with his hands as he realized he made a mess for no reason. As he took the jumper from your hands with a kiss to your lips and a thank you, you spoke again with a smile, "And get your own clothes."

"Why do that when I have you?" he grinned, "And don't touch any of the mess. I will clean it when I get back." his tone was serious but you struggled to hold in your laugh.

"I'll ju-"

"-No. Pinky promise you won't clean any of it." he held out his pinky with a raised brow.

You rolled your eyes before locking your finger with his. "Fine." the metal of the ruby ring on his finger that used to be yours was cold on your skin

He smiled as he kissed the place where your fingers interlocked and dashed out of the room with one last warning, "You pinky promised! No breaking it!"

"I, I just miss. I just miss your accent and your friends."

"Okay, Your Majesty." Harry mocked your RP accent for the thousandth time as you sat at Beachwood Cafe with Mitch, Sarah, Hazel and Max.

You gasped, "Would you stop that?! I do not sound like the Queen."

He was about to argue before Mitch chimed in, "Sorry, Y/L/N, but you kind of do." he giggled as he spoke.

Your jaw dropped as Harry started to laugh, "This is so unfair. I introduced you guys! You were my friends first! You're supposed to be on my side!"

They all started laughing together at your outburst as you rolled your eyes with a small smile.

"Did you know I still talk to them?"

Hazel was escorted to Harry's dressing room before his show in Vancouver while Max was in charge of finding parking.

Since it was her's and Max's hometown, Harry offered them tickets and backstage entry. It took a lot of debating with himself before he sent the text to Hazel, but his reasoning ultimately came down to not wanting to lose two friendships due to one relationship.

She took a moment to pause before knocking, and sighed a little when Harry looked up through the mirror with red, glassy eyes.

"What's going on, H?" she spoke softly as she entered the room and closed the door behind her.

Harry fully turned his chair around and felt his shoulders deflate, "Just miss her." he rolled his lips in between his teeth as a few tears managed to escape.

Hazel's heart fractured a bit in that moment as her phone started buzzing in her pocket with a call from you, "It's Y/N. Give me a minu-"

"-No. Please. I won't say anything. Can you put it on speaker?" he begged and although Hazel knew it was a bad idea she sighed before answering your call and following his request.

"Hey, Y/N/N!"

"Hi, are you at the show?" your voice ran through the room and Harry subconsciously leaned towards to the phone as if it would bring him closer to you.

Hazel suppressed a sigh from watching Harry before replying, "Yeah! It was really nice of him to invite us. What are you up to?"

"About to catch a flight to LA. Just wanted to make sure you got there safe." you laughed lightly through your lie and Harry's eyes automatically shut, trying to savour the sweet sound.

Hazel could hear your lie in your voice, but chose not to address it, "Yeah, Max is just finding parking right now. Why are you going to LA?"

Harry fought the urge to answer her question, forgetting that he wasn't supposed to know the answer.

You sighed slightly, "House hunting. Can't stay at Harry's anymore, so time to find my own place there."

Hazel nodded, forgetting that you couldn't see her before replying, "Oh. I see. Have you talked to H at all?"

Harry's head snapped up at his name being brought into the conversation.

"No, it's best if I don't." a mans voice was heard in the background before you spoke again, "Well, we're about to take off now. If you see him, wish him luck for me, will you?" your sadness was evident throughout your words.

Harry buried his head in his hands again as more tears escaped while Hazel replied, "Of course. Have a safe flight, Y/N/N. Love you, miss you."

"Thanks, love you and miss you too. Bye!" you blew a kiss into the phone before the dial tone was heard.

And for a moment, with his eyes shut, Harry allowed himself to imagine that those words were meant for his ears only.

"Does he take you walking 'round his parents gallery?"

"Hey, Haz," Tyler spoke up from the silence of the recording studio. They had just finished a long session and the rest of the team had already departed for the night, leaving Harry, Sammy and Tyler. "There's a new gallery opening on Saturday. Only there for a few nights. You wanna come with me and Sammy?"

Harry slowly turned in the spinning chair, "Sure. Whose gallery?" he bit into an apple as he finished speaking.

"Nikki Holland? Don't know who she is, but she's got some sick photos on Instagram." Tyler shrugged not noticing how Harry nearly choked on his fruit.

"Holland? As in Tom Holland's mum? Tom Holland as in Y/N's boyfriend, Tom Holland?" Sammy's eyes widened before he pulled out his own phone and went to Tom's instagram page. And sure enough, there was a post and a story of him promoting his mum's new gallery opening. "Just answered my own question." he rolled his lips between his teeth before chancing a glance at Harry.

Harry stared blankly at the floor before clearing his throat, "Probably not the best idea for me to show up there." he paused at their somber expressions, "Honestly, it's fine." he laughed lightly.

"Nah, we won't go either. Probably start rumours if we-"

"-Wait." Harry abruptly announced before reaching for the acoustic guitar on his left.

Tyler and Sammy shared a concerned expression with one another while Harry nervously fumbled with the strings of the instrument.

"Let me just- I just need to-" he struggled to find the right words to say, but there was no need.

Tyler shook his head and put his phone down, "Let's write it."

'Coucou!'

"Tu dors?" you frowned when your friend answered your call with a groggy voice.

She laughed lightly through the phone, "Oui. J'étais sur le point d'être."

"Oh, j'suis désolée."

She chuckled, "Ne t'en fais pas. Que s'est-il passé? A-t-il fait une demande en mariage?"

You sighed with a smile, thinking back on the day you spent with the lovely man behind you, "Bah non-"

"Je peux entendre le sourire effrayant dans ta voix. Que s'est-il passé?" she cut you off while mocking you.

You laughed loudly, "Nan, c'est pas important."

"Qu'avez-vous fait alors? Êtes-vous allé à la plage?"

You turned to look at Harry as he played a soft melody on a guitar. His eyes looked up to meet yours and he offered you a small grin that you returned, "Ouais, on a été à la plage, et maintenant on—"

She cut you off again with a loud laugh, "Allons prendre un verre et discuter. J'ai besoin de voir le sourire effrayant en personne."

You couldn't even deny her accusation. You were at the happiest you could be.

'Parfait! Allez!'

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joeys-babe · 4 months

Text

Joey B Imagines: Mine*

————————————————————————-

Summary: Joe sets aside his usual “wear what you want” attitude and shows you that he's the only person you wear his favorite set for.

(Part two to - Part one)

Warnings: Smut (Female receiving oral, vaginal fingering, PIV sex.)

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

————————————————————————-

*Complete continuation from part one!*

(y/n’s pov)

The door to the bathroom was shut as I discarded my sweats and slipped the lingerie onto my body.

I knew what was waiting for me on the other side of that door, and it had adrenaline coursing through my veins.

Joe wasn't the jealous type. We had never had sex that was induced by him showing that I was purely his and saying I was nervous wouldn't be a lie.

After reminding myself a couple of times that it was Joe and he’d never hurt me or make me do anything I wouldn't want to, I opened the door and stepped out.

My eyes scanned over Joe’s body which was only covered by his black boxers as his gorgeous large frame was sprawled out on the bed.

“Did I keep you waiting too long?” - you

Joe finally looked up and acknowledged me, a dirty grin gracing his lips when he saw the black lace.

“Nope. I've been busy thinking about what I want to do to you.” - Joe smirked

I gulped and Joe took notice of my nervous state, realizing that he laid the intimidation factor on a little too thick.

“C’mere.” - Joe patted his lap

My heart rate only got higher as I crawled onto the bed and straddled Joe’s thighs.

“You look beautiful.” - Joe ran his fingers over my waist

“You don't look too bad yourself.” - you grinned

His beautiful blue eyes shined as they met mine, but he sighed and looked away.

“Am I making you nervous? That's the last thing I want to do.” - Joe

“A little, but it's more of an excited-nervous to see how this plays out.” - you

“Shit… I'm sorry. You know you can always tell me to stop or do something differently. I'm here to take care of you.” - Joe

“I know, Joey. You have nothing to apologize for. It's not like you can control the effect you have on me.” - you laughed

He nodded and a small smile graced his plump blush pink lips.

After looking at his lips for a little too long, I felt the need to kiss them so I did. I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his.

Joe deepened the kiss as he slipped his tongue between my lips into the confines of my mouth. His arms circled my waist and he used the leverage to move me against him; essentially grinding down onto his crotch.

I could feel the familiar bulge in his shorts, telling me he had already been hard for a while.

“Joey.” - you whimpered into his mouth

“What do you need, baby?” - Joe

“You. I need you inside me.” - you

Joe was almost taken aback by how needy you already were. He wanted to give you what you wanted because there was no doubt he wanted inside you just as much as you wanted him inside you, but he had to stick to the plan.

“Patience, baby. You'll get it later. Right now, I need to taste you.” - Joe

Before I knew it, I was off of Joe’s lap and lying flat on my back on the bed. Joe was holding himself on top of me as he gently started kissing down my body.

“I could kiss this skin forever. So soft.” - Joe groaned

Abruptly, his kisses stopped when he had reached his destination.

I had the intention of looking down at Joe to see what the hold-up was for, but before I could, he slid the fabric to the side and sank his hot tongue inside.

“Fuck!” - you moaned

His magic tongue worked in tandem with his thumb that was circling over my clit. This sensual assault left me a withering mess.

One thing about sex with Joe is I never lasted long at the hands of his skilled mouth, fingers, or cock. Joe’s mission was to make me cum, he didn't care if he came himself.

God, when he ate me out it was an out-of-body experience.

And right now, I could feel myself slipping away.

“Joe! I'm close.” - you moaned

Joe pulled his tongue out and sunk a thick finger into my heat, his lips closing around the sensitive bud as he sucked into oblivion.

“Shit-” - you

“C’mon, baby. Give me that orgasm.” - Joe moaned

With a loud breathy moan of his name, I drenched Joe’s chin and a bit of his bare chest.

“Fuck, that was hot.” - Joe

As I recovered, my eyes drifted down to Joe’s tented boxers, and I desperately wanted to touch him.

Using my arms to hold myself up, I reached for Joe but he backed away from me.

“Please, I wanna touch you, Joe.” - you

“What’d I say about patience, my love?” - Joe

Defeatedly sighing, Joe laid me back down on my back and moved his hand up my leg. His big hand started at my ankle and traced up to my inner thigh.

Joe groaned when he ran his fingers over the lace that was the only thing between him and my dripping entrance.

“You're so wet for me.” - Joe

I sucked in a huge breath when Joe slipped his fingers under the material and ran the tips of two thick fingers through my folds.

“Stop teasing…” - you

“What do you want, baby? Want me to touch you? Hm?” - Joe

“Yes, please.” - you

“Atta girl, practically begging for my touch.” - Joe

Joe didn't waste any more time as he was satisfied with my request and easily slipped in two fingers.

“Oh god!” - you

“You think you can gimme another one?” - Joe

My walls couldn't help but clench around his fingers, still not completely recovered from my last orgasm.

Joe curled his fingers and I was seeing stars. His little groans that escaped his perfect lips drove me closer to the finish line.

“Please.” - you whined

Without saying what I needed, Joe knew. He quickly increased the pace of his lengthy fingers and simultaneously circled my mound.

“Baby, I'm not gonna last much longer.” - you

“Good. Cum for me, all over my fingers.” - Joe

Joe connected his lips with mine, and the feeling of his fingers moving inside me and his tongue circling with mine became too much. Soon I was doing his bidding and moaning loudly into his mouth at my climax.

I winced as he slowly pulled his fingers out, but my eyes immediately snapped open when I heard loud sucking noises. The sight of Joe licking my essence off of his digits was so goddamn hot.

My eyes didn't stop there either; they slowly roamed back down to his crotch where he looked so unbearably hard.

Since he was still focused on licking every last drop of my arousal off, I reached for his clothed erection but let out an annoyed groan when he grabbed my wrist.

“Joe, you had your fun proving to me who I wear lingerie for! I want to suck your dick!” - you

He simply shook his head no and went for the bathroom. Dramatically throwing myself back against the bed, I wondered why Joe was depriving me.

“Joe!” - you

“Yup?” - Joe

“Get in here. Now.” - you

If only you could see the smirk on his face right now.

Joe quickly discarded his boxers and sashayed into the bedroom, wearing nothing but a cocky smirk.

“Please fuck me. I need your cock. I need you so bad.” - you whined

I tried and failed not to bite my lip as I watched his hard dick twitch at my words.

“Beg for it.” - Joe

“Isn’t that what I'm already doing?!” - you grumbled

Those deep blue ‘need you’ eyes turned into a glare, and I knew that what I was already doing wasn't sufficient.

“Joey. Please give me your cock. You're the only one who can satisfy my needs, and I want you to fill me up.” - you

In one swift motion, Joe went from standing up to on top of me on the bed.

“Good girl, my love. You always do exactly what I say.” - Joe

His lips attached to my neck and his kisses slowly traveled downward making a beeline for my chest.

Joe gently moved one of the straps off of my shoulder to reveal the swell of my breast. The kisses got sloppier as he eventually pulled the entire set off of my body.

He lifted himself and let his lust-filled eyes wander over my body, completely bare just for him.

“As much as I love that lingerie on you… there is nothing I love more than what I'm looking at right now.” - Joe grinned

“You make me feel so loved, Joey.” - you wrapped your arms around his neck

My arms around his neck signaled him to lean down a bit, and Joe placed his lips onto mine.

“Ready?” - Joe lined himself up with your entrance

“Always.” - you

I flashed him a smirk + wink combo and he immediately thrust his entire length inside.

My walls clamped down on the sudden intrusion, which had both of us moaning.

“Fuck you feel so good around me.” - Joe

“You feel even better. Fast… faster please?” - you

He immediately obliged and started thrusting with even more strength behind each movement.

It was insane how full his aching cock made me feel. This position, with my legs around his waist, had him hitting my cervix each time.

“Right there!” - you sighed

“Right here?” - Joe

That last thrust had to be planned to be particularly rough because… shit.

Minutes later I could already feel myself getting close to my climax, I was two orgasms ahead of Joe so there was no doubt that I was sensitive.

“Joe… baby, I'm not… gonna last long.” - you

“Fuck, me neither. I've been close since you walked out of the bathroom in your outfit.” - Joe

I grabbed the back of his neck and pulled his face close to mine to engage our lips in a filthy kiss.

Joe’s thrusts started getting erratic, and though he was so close, he was still focused on making me cum first.

“Finish me off, baby.” - you moaned

He dropped his hand to where our bodies connected and started circling the little bundle of nerves. I clamped down on him hard and practically screamed his name through my climax.

“Mmm. Shit, baby.” - Joe moaned

Moments later, Joe buried himself as deep as he could get and let out a guttural moan as he released inside me.

Joe collapsed on top of me and hid his face in my neck, our mutual heavy breathing the only thing heard in the room.

The close contact was nice while recovering from our intense highs, but soon, the feel of sweaty skin against skin began feeling uncomfortable.

Abruptly, Joe pulled out and stood up from the bed, helping me up moments later and whisking me away to a warm shower.

We stood wrapped up in each other’s embraces as the water cascaded over us. The feel of the warm water and Joe’s big hands running over my body made for the perfect aftercare.

“I love you.” - Joe mumbled

“I love you too.” - you

——

Later we both begrudgingly walked into the colder bedroom and made our way into bed for the night.

“It's so late. I'm exhausted.” - Joe

“Well, it is two in the morning. Not the eight o'clock you're used to.” - you giggled and rubbed his chest

“Had to show you who you belonged to.” - Joe

“Is that so?” - you laughed and laid your head on his shoulder

“Yup. You're all mine.” - Joe

And neither of us would want it any other way.

————————————————————————-

Authors note: the much-needed, very late, part two to girls night!!

(the smut writers block is REALL)

Hope you enjoyed! 💕💕

#joe burrow #bengals #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joey b #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow smut

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