Tumgik
#fic: birds fly in every direction
batfam-chaos · 1 year
Note
i'm so sorry if someone already asked this and if it was already answered, and i really don't mean to pry or be a bother, but did you abandon birds fly in every direction? i want to know so i can take it out of my bookmarks...
it's on hiatus, not abandoned! i have the rest of the fic written but it needs a lot of editing plus some new scenes added to wrap up loose ends. birds fly is a pretty heavy fic and i don't have the emotional energy to give it what it deserves rn, hence why it's on hiatus
13 notes · View notes
hazelnelliesgf · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
WEB-SLINGER PT 1
SpiderGirl!Hazel Callahan x Fem!Reader
Tumblr media
Summary: Hazel is just an ordinary teenage girl. She goes to school, she has a part time job and she's also Spidergirl. Oh wait, forgot to mention that. Being the new girl at school is hard for you, that's why she's here to help! Without revealing she's Spidergirl of course.
Warnings: this is written in Hazel's perspective for the entire fic.
Proof-read!!
Words: 0.6k
Tumblr media
Hey, I'm Hazel Callahan. I was bit by a radioactive spider and became the one and only, Spidergirl. Let me show you what its all about.
I am a full-time highschooler, currently trying to study for my music course. I play the drums often, mostly by myself in my dorm room. It was a day like no other, I was just walking to my class, minding my own business when someone bumps into me as I walk by. All my sheets of paper scatter across the floor, flying in every direction.
''Oh my god, I'm so sorry!'' This person says, scrambling to say sorry to me and pick up my discarded sheets. Then our fingertips meet, grabbing the same piece of paper. I look up at her face and she's staring back at me. She quickly looks away and shoves the sheet into my hand before running away. I stand there in confusion before going back to walking towards my lesson.
Now, during this lesson, the same girl barges into the room with a ''THUD!''. We all look up at her and she's visibly stressed and upset. Mr Mayfield talks to her before asking her to find a seat. The only available one was right next to me. How convenient, right? She sat herself down next to me, and it gave me time to look at her properly (not in a weird way, ew). Her eyes had a familiar glint in them, but were downturned with sadness. Her hair flowed nicely down her head, fitting its shape perfectly. Her skin glowed in the crappy school lights and sun, making me look like a mess next to her. The class came and went faster than expected and she packed up pretty quickly, then left.
My phone buzzed in my left pocket, alerting me of a message. It was from PJ.
-''Hey Dude, Trouble downtown, you available for it?''
PJ is the only person that knows about the whole SpiderGirl thing, and keeps me updated on trouble everywhere. She's been with me since the start of highschool and has never left my side.
-''Okay, Omw.'' I text back, sneaking into a public bathroom and changing into my suit. Getting used to the suit was hard work, I gotta say. The claustrophobia hits you like a train and I was honestly so scared of getting stuck inside of it, but you get over it once you try it on a couple times. I sneak out of the bathroom and run to the nearest building to hop off from. I ring PJ through my suit.
''Hey! What's the issue?'' I ask her.
''Villains terrorising kids down by your school, a couple injured, one is currently being taken to hospital. You got it?''
''Yeah. Send me the coordinates and I'll get there as soon as possible.'' I hang up and start swinging through the city. Cars are beeping and birds are flying down low through the buildings. It takes hard work to figure out how to swing without absolutely shitting yourself either. I get to the coordinates that PJ sent me and see the madness that had unfolded. I overlook the whole scene in front of me, then I see a familiar face.
No. I can't be?
Her?
Tumblr media
copyright to @hazelnelliesgf 2023
Tumblr media
329 notes · View notes
crucifiedfaerie · 6 months
Text
Growing Pains | Pt. 1 ༉₊˚✧
Kylo Ren/Ben Solo x Fem!Reader
➴ Summary: He loved you, he left you, and now he will stop at nothing to get you back.
➴ Word Count: 1.3k
➴ Warnings: smut in future chapters so 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, stalking, kidnapping, lots and lots of angst, a little blood, slight death mention, kylo is kinda soft for a min but he's still kylo ren so mean!kylo, flashback dream, established relationship with ben, crylo ren, reader is wallowing and low key wants to die
➴ Taglist: ( @enviedear @capitanostella @teapartydreams )
A/N: lowkey (high key) cried while writing this. did not intend for this fic to be so sad right off the bat but here we are. so apologies for that. nonetheless, i hope you enjoy !! <3
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Your head was spinning as you clutched your saber, the yellow glow reflecting off your teary, panicked eyes. You don't know how long you had been running, it felt like ages. The salt from your tears stung your face where twigs and branches had slashed you. Something had been hunting you. A dark, looming creature in a mask that you knew was never going to stop until it was dead or had you in its grasp.
You stopped in a clearing, frantically whipping your head around, looking in every direction. The moss felt soft underneath your bare feet that were sore from running, and it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Not even the wind or the birds made a sound and the hairs on the back of your neck stood straight up.
Before you could even process the sound of the branch snapping behind you, everything went black. The last thing you remember feeling was being caught by two strong hands before being enveloped in the dark void of sleep.
It was the same dream as every night, and despite how heartbreaking it was to wake up from, you found great comfort in it. After six years, you had accepted at some point that sleep was going to be the only place you'd ever see him again.
"Do you ever wish you were a bird?" Ben turned his head to look at you, that same smile on his face he always seemed to have when he was in your presence.
You laughed at him, "I can't say it's something I've ever thought about. Do you?"
The two of you had been laying in a flower meadow, watching the clouds and birds go by as the sky faded to an orangey-pink. He let go of your hand to roll closer to you, and he brushed your wind blown hair out of your face.
You picked pieces of grass from his dark hair as he spoke. "Of course I do. If we were birds, we could go anywhere together, we could fly far away from here and we would have no responsibilities." He smiled down at you.
Before you could respond to him, everything faded away. Ben, the pink sky behind him, and the warm meadow all slipped through your fingers like sand. Despite it's own despair, your brain threw itself into a different memory. A much darker, more painful memory.
"Get away from me!" Ben screamed at you, pointing his saber at you. The rain beat down on the both of you, soaking your clothes and chilling you down to the bone.
You looked at him, the betrayal clear in your eyes. "This isn't you, Ben... I don't understand, please help me understand. Why are you doing this?" Your voice broke as you pleaded with him, your warm tears mixing with the cold rain.
He ignored your pleas and looked down at you with an expression void of emotion. "Maybe you never knew me to begin with."
In the blink of an eye he was gone, leaving you alone and cold in the rain. Your broken sobs were drowned out by the heavy rain as you realized nothing would ever be the same again.
When you awoke, the painful throbbing in your head came crashing down on you immediately. Your body ached as you sat up from the concrete floor of the cell you had been put in, and you lifted your hand to the side of your head. When you looked at your fingers they were covered in flaky, dried blood.
When you fully came to your senses, you saw him, sitting across from you on the other side of the room. Kylo Ren, the Supreme Leader of the First Order and most feared man in the galaxy was mere feet from you, simply staring at you. You weakly scrambled backwards to put distance between you, your head hitting the wall behind you, causing you to wince.
He stood, holding a damp cloth in his gloved hand. "Don't do that. You're hurt enough as it is." Kylo said blankly through his modulator, before crouching down in front of you, attempting to be at eye level despite his dark helmet separating the two of you.
He reached his hand out towards your face. You frantically shook your head and inched away from him, causing him to sigh and use the force to freeze you in place. "Stop moving, I'm trying to help you." He sounded annoyed, but he began to gently wipe the blood from your face with the cloth.
You winced at the contact, which he noticed. "I'm sorry, I'm almost done." The modulator in his helmet stripped his voice of any emotion, but you could've sworn there was a hint of sympathy in his tone.
Once he finished, he released you and leaned back slightly as if to admire his work, before nodding at you. "You must be terrified. My intention was not to hurt you, I thought it would be easier to catch you... I suppose I was wrong." His modulated voice crackled.
You saw your reflection in his visor, your expression terrified and eyes sunken. You began to cry. "Why am I here?! I j-just want to go home, I want t-to go back to Ahch-To, please!" You begged him through broken sobs.
Kylo tilted his head slightly. "Now why would you want to go back there? It isn't like you have anyone to go back to but the terrible memories." His voice was now cold, calculated.
Your brow furrowed. "How would you know that?! You know nothing about me!" You shouted at him, tears streaming down your face.
He laughed through the modulator, as if there were some inside joke you had no part in. "On the contrary. I know plenty about you."
Your eyes narrowed as you stared at him, angry and confused. "Who are you?"
He sighed. "In due time, you will understand. In the meantime, eat." He pushed the tray of food that had been sitting next to you when you woke up closer to you, before standing up. "I'll be back later. If that food isn't gone when I return, you won't like the consequences." He turned around swiftly and made his way to the door.
"Why didn't you just kill me in that forest?" You said weakly.
Your question made him freeze. He tensed in the doorway, and didn't turn to look at you before speaking. "In due time, you will understand." He repeated, only he sounded... pained this time. He quickly left, shutting the door and locking it behind him.
You picked at your food, feeling the sorrow and rage boiling inside you. You screamed, throwing the tray at the door before curling up into a ball and sobbing against the cold, concrete floor of the cell.
You wanted nothing more in that moment than to feel the warm, comforting embrace of Ben, but you knew it would never come. There was a song he would always sing to you, to calm you down. As you laid there crying, you began to hum the tune to yourself.
Unbeknownst to you, Kylo stood outside the door to your cell, listening to your outburst. He sighed, leaning against the wall, deep in thought. He was quickly pulled from his thoughts though, by your humming.
He froze. Despite your broken sobs, he recognized it immediately. He had almost forgotten about that song, it reminded him of a version of himself that he had spent six years trying to kill. Kylo didn't realize he was crying until he felt a tear slip out of the bottom of his helmet. He quickly wiped it away with a gloved hand and inhaled sharply, before walking down the dimly lit hallway, away from your cell.
158 notes · View notes
cranetreegang · 1 year
Text
Under the Rainfall, I See You - Ominis x FemReader
FRESH OFF THE PRESS! COME GET YOUR FRESH HOT OMINIS FANFIC! EXTRA FLUFFY WITH A SIDE OF FLUFF!
If you have seen this -> Daredevil Kisses Elektra <- then you know what's up. Like this is just how I believe Ominis sees when he's got the wand. You CANNOT change my mind. Okay maybe you can, im easily swayed, but for now, this is my belief on the subject.
Summary: As the two head back from a trip to Hogsmeade, a sudden rainstorm may dampen the mood, or show them more of each other than they thought possible.
Word Count: ~ 2,200 words
Read my other Ominis Fics Here!
-----------------------------------------------------------
Her eyes glance up at the crimson and golden leaves under the cloudy afternoon sky. Bird’s chirp and fly between the branches above her and Ominis as they walk the leaf covered path. She inhales the fresh, cool air and she can’t quell her exultation at the changing of seasons occurring around them. 
“There’s more just up ahead.” Ominis informs her with a slight grin. 
She can’t stop her smile as she turns her gaze to the boy next to her. He has a grip of her parcel from Hogsmead tight under his arm, refusing any and all her efforts to let her carry the package herself. He has his wand in his hand; the red pulsing emitting at a steady beat. His robes hang off his shoulders and his suit underneath is freshly pressed. His gaze is directed in front of him and his features are formed in a soft, easy smile. She enjoys gazing upon him when he’s like this, she concludes. He comes to a stop then turns away from her, to somewhere off the path. 
“There. Do you see them?” He wonders. 
She forces her attention to where he’s facing and sure enough she can see the glow of the Lacewing Flies poking between the foliage. She takes out her jar and runs over to the cluster of bugs. She captures as many as she can into the glass container then places it in her bag with the other three she’s gotten today. She runs back over to her awaiting friend, who has amusement dancing over his pale features.
“You laugh. But, when you run out of Lacewings again in Potions, you’ll be thanking me.” 
“I shall go ahead and pledge my gratitude now for your infallible generosity then.” His snicker makes her smile widen. 
“How do you tell the difference between the Lacewings, and all the other bugs? They all sound the same to me.” 
“A perk of my condition.” He dryly replies. “They have a certain chitter. I don’t think I can aptly describe it. I just know it’s the sound of a Lacewing.” 
She pulls out one of the jars and brings her ear to it. She closes her eyes and listens to the flies. 
“How fascinating. They do chitter. I’ve never noticed before.” She holds the glass jar in front of her with amazement. She stuffs the jar back into her sack then looks over to Ominis. The boy who sees more than she ever possibly could. It sends her heart thundering in her chest the longer she stares at him. “I appreciate your patience and for entertaining my ingredient gathering.” 
He bows his head, “My pleasure. Especially considering your promise to share some of those ingredients with me.” 
She giggles, “Of course. Although, you may need them far more than I. What with your tendency to burn your brews.” 
He lets out a sigh, “I truly detest that class. I look forward to the day when I no longer have to endure the stench of whatever questionable experiment Weasley decides to concots that day.” 
“You must admit, there’s nothing better than listening to Professor Sharp scolding Garreth.” 
He nods with a chuckle, “It never gets old. Literally. It’s the same tongue-lashing every time. I swear, I think Garreth does it on purpose to rile up Professor Sharp.” 
“At least it does take the attention off your rather horrid concoctions.” She bumps into his shoulder with a smirk. Ominis gives her a playful shove back with a scoff.
“They aren’t that horrid.”
His shoulders slump enough for her to notice and she bites her lip at his dampened pride.
“You know, you could always ask me for assistance. I don’t mind. And I’m not half bad at brewing. As you well know.” She offers, her voice betraying how hopeful she is for his acceptance.
His lips dip into a frown, ready to dismiss the proposal, when his mind gets the better of him, “I may take you up on that.”
She gives a sharp nod, “I hope you do.” 
She admires Ominis for his strong independence. At the same time, she wishes he would be more willing to reach out for help. She often worries he keeps his troubles to himself because he fears pity from others more so than suffering on his own. As much as she wishes to press the matter further, she leaves it with the chance he would actually take her up on her offer.
“Thank you again for coming with me.” She says as they get within eyesight of the castle’s gate. “Hogsmead is just so much better with a friend. And I was most pleased you agreed to come.” 
Ominis nods, “I couldn’t agree more. And I too was pleased at your offer. Although, I’m not sure how you’ve managed to get Mister Pippin to adore you so.” 
“I may have helped him with a rather difficult delivery. And he most certainly does not adore me. I’m sure he’s like that with all his patrons.” She dismisses with a light laugh and a roll of her eyes. 
He gives her a raise of his dark blonde brow with a matching smirk, “He most certainly does too. My ears work just fine. And I heard him sing all those praises about you in perfect clarity. Meanwhile, I was barely acknowledged as anything more than a nuisance.” 
She giggles with a bite of her bottom lip, “Almost sounds like you’re a bit envious.” 
“Me? Envious?” He chuckles with a slight shake of his head, “A preposterous notion.”
“Uh huh. Sounds like something someone completely overtaken with jealousy would say.” 
“Is that so?” His cheeks are sore from the constant smile he’s been sporting since she first asked him to come with her. 
He’s ready to tease her further when his skin prickles. He pauses mid stride, turning his ear more to the skies. There’s a subtle shift in the wind, the temperature dropping ever so slightly, and he can smell the fresh moisture in the air. So much so, he can feel it on the tips of his fingers. He moves her package to be tucked under his robes to protect it.
“Ominis? Is everything alright? Are there more Lacewings nearby?” She comes closer to him and he focuses back on her. 
He smiles, “Yes. Everything’s fine. It’s just about to rain, is all.” 
She stares up at the sky in wonder. She hadn’t noticed the sky had darkened into a baleful gray. 
“How could you possibly know that?” She whispers in amazement.
He smirks, “Another one of my many quirks.” 
A fat drop of rain lands on his head then on his shoulder. 
“Well, we should get you inside, lest we get wet. Don’t want this wonderful day to end with us getting sick.” She says while turning to head towards the castle. His hand barely catches her forearm, making her freeze in place with surprise.
“Wait.” He says in a near whisper. His mouth opens and shuts several times, his brows furrowing while he shifts between his feet. More droplets of rain land on them, but she doesn’t rush him into speaking. Instead, she puts his hand into her own, giving him an encouraging squeeze.
“What is it?” She asks.
“Stay out here with me.” He finally says. “Just for a moment.” 
Her head tilts to the side at his request. She gives him a soft smile then nods, “If that’s what you wish. May I ask why though? I don’t mean to sound presumptuous, but you don’t seem the type to be dancing out in the rain.” 
“What if I were to say that is indeed the reason? Would you think less of me?”
“Not in the slightest.” She replies with no hesitation. “I may tease you about your dancing though.” 
“I suppose that’s fair.” Ominis has a faint smile as he turns his face up towards the sky. He knows she’s watching him, waiting for his true answer. The feeling of her gaze on him, shoots hot currents throughout his body. 
“Each raindrop, as it lands, creates a sound. And for a little while, it’s like I can see.” He lowers his head towards where she is. “And I would like you to be here with me when that happens.”
Her chest tightens and in a quiet breath, she whispers, “Okay.” 
He grins then looks back up at the sky, “Here it comes.” 
She looks up as well just as several drops begin to land on them. The heavens open up and soon, they’re in a downpour. She laughs at the coolness washing over her while Ominis turns his gaze down to her, his wand tight in his other hand. He senses the finer details of her face. The contours of her lips as they form into a relaxed smile. Her damp hair sticking to her cheeks. The way her eyes are closed as the rain lands upon her. He’s taken aback by the tranquil picture before him and he can’t find a single thing he would change about this moment. Other than to let it last. 
“Beautiful.” He whispers to himself. The word being lost to the pounding rain and distant thunder.
She lowers her head then opens her eyes to find Ominis staring right at her. Her smile widens at the sight, making his chest rise in a near silent gasp. 
“Is everything alright, Ominis?” 
Watching her lips move and to see his name spoken, sends a shiver through his whole being.
“Yes.” He manages to say. “Never better.”
He looks as if he’s been stricken. She’s not sure what the source of his timidness is. But, with how he’s looking at her…
“What do you see?” She asks. 
He takes in her concerned expression. The slight pinch of her brows which carry into her voice. The tilt of her lips forming the beginnings of a frown. 
In a surge of intrepidness, his hand leaves hers and travels up to her face. She watches with wide eyes, her breath caught in her throat, as his fingers gently glide over her cheek. Her eyes flutter shut in an attempt to feel only his touch amongst the raindrops. He tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear with a soft smile, his thumb brushing over her cheekbone, then he lowers his hand away. Her eyes open to find him in a similar state as herself. 
She’s not sure what to do, her mind ceasing to form any sort of rational thought. He shivers at her intense stare.
“Oh, Ominis. You’re cold.” She smiles, reaching for his hand. “Let’s get you back before you freeze to death.” 
He can only nod and let her tug him back towards the castle. He can’t stop his trembling. Not when every few seconds she looks back at him with a sweet smile. He understands now how a smile can be warm because he doesn’t feel a morsel of the cold rain upon him. Just her hand in his.
They burst through the large wooden doors into the safety of the castle. She giggles at their drenched state.
“I don’t suppose you know a spell to dry us off.” 
Ominis shakes his head, “I’d imagine Incendio would do the trick. Or burn off our clothes entirely.” 
She snorts then casts Incendio, “Only one way to find out.” 
She hovers the crackling flame just over his arm and begins the slow process of drying themselves. Her eyes keep darting up to his face, ensuring he’s not in any pain or discomfort. But, to also take in his features with being so close. His cologne is still present despite the overall fresh fragrance of rainshower upon both of them. His lips hold a soft smile and his silver, moon-like eyes, while staring off into the distance, are serene. His dark blonde hair is plastered around his pale face in an uncharacteristic manner from his normal tidiness. She can’t help herself as she reaches her hand up to him, similar to what he had done to her. 
His lips part in surprise at her touch near his temple, but he doesn’t find the contact unwelcomed. Her fingers are adroit, as if he were a delicate porcelain doll, as she moves his hair back into place. Almost as quickly as it happens, she’s back to drying the both of them. He’s thankful at his innate ability to keep his most extreme emotions concealed, as he could only imagine what he must look like otherwise. After a few minutes, she ceases the spell with a satisfied nod. 
“Should be enough to not slosh around the castle now.” 
He examines his less damp state with a grin, “Not bad. Thank you for that.” 
“Of course.” She says in a quiet voice. 
As the silence between them stretches on longer and longer, the worse their nerves get. She wants to say something, anything, but her tongue and mind are far too numb to speak. 
“May I walk you back to your dorm?” He offers. 
“Yes.” She replies all too quickly for her liking. “I mean-, uh, yes. I would like that.” 
His smile is one of relief, and when her hand finds his, he’s all but elated. 
“Lead the way then.” He smiles.
---------------------------
AN: Gonna be real, i tried pretty hard with this one to be a banger. But, I fear I may have tweaked it too much and now it's just mid. ugh. i love staring at something for so long and just end up hating it. that's kind of how i feel about it. but like i love it still???
idk, let me know what y'all think! love hearing any feedback <3 thanks for reading!
also, let's just pretend that Incendio is like a tiny flame at times, and she didn't set them both on fire :)
850 notes · View notes
cairoscene · 8 months
Note
do you have any fic recs? (anything w tim joins the batfam early or ghostbat or anything in general tbh!)
hello i absolutely do! i'm going to try to give a good scattering of different fics and hope one of these is new to you/what you're looking for.
for "tim joins the bat family early" these are some of my favorites:
5 Times Tim Spends the Night at Wayne Manor + 1 Time He Comes Home by motleyfam. this fic is inspired by Latchkey by goldkirk and birds fly in every direction by distracted_dragon, and all three are really excellent fics and great entries into this particular tag. all three of these fics are ones i turn to when i want prime hurt/comfort tim pangs with plenty of family fluff and shenanigans.
Brother Wanted by Vamillepudding. i read this one early on in fandom and i still laugh when i think about it. premise is that jason mistakenly answers tim's advert for a brother and ends up with tim paying him to be his brother. it's full of a very precocious and lonely tim trying his hardest to keep jason around, while jason is desperately trying to figure out how to get this kid adopted before he runs out of money. truly a delightful fic.
Like a Hinge, Like a Wing by Ultrageekatlarge. cw for child abuse and peril, so mind the tags but imo this is a work of art. genuinely one of the best paced and well-written fics out there. i suppose it's technically not tim joining the family early but rather an AU where jason never died, so tim never had the chance to replace him; instead he finds himself under the care of a horrible uncle after his parents die, and in desperation, he turns to the only person who can help: batman.
the Surveillance series by smilebackwards. cheating again bc technically this is just an AU where jason didn't die and tim is a civilian, so it's got the flavor of a different joining-the-family dynamic, plus added timkon delightfulness. this is my go-to for highly competent and extremely lonely tim drake content.
as for ghostbat, it's an extremely small tag, but it's got some excellent fics:
Miscommunication by OkayAristotle. pretty sure this is the first fic in the ghostbat tag, and somehow it got them prefect right from the start. the petty banter and ease with which they interact is phenomenal.
break me shake me devastate me by pendulum_north. some great angst with a small helping of comfort! as well as just a good overall look at the more tragic side to ghostbat.
i used to waste my time dreaming of being alive (now i only waste it dreaming of you) by nygmamale. bed-sharing! pining! banter! angst! there's something about how they both go out of their way to spite the other in this fic that really gets me.
The First Warm Thing by Noknowname. absolutely aching ghostbat domesticity and old men being gross and in love.
and i'll throw in a few of my other favorite random DC fics just for the heck of it:
A Meditation on Railroading by eggmacguffin. this remains one of my all-time favorite fics. tim gets stranded and chooses to freight-hop his way back to gotham, and guess who ends up on the same train? "baby wipes jason" is still spoken with reverent and hushed tones in my groupchat regularly.
Stargazer by lemonadegarden. my favorite comfort reread jason fic. jason breaks his leg and gets stuck at the manor while recuperating. honestly it's rare to find a fic that really lets jason feel as young as he is. i think he's 19 in this fic and he feels so very lost and young and hurt in a way that really heals me.
Overcoming Our Antecedents by Batbirdies. jason gets temporarily de-aged, and bruce has feelings about it. one of my cornerstone jason and bruce fics, mostly bc it contextualizes bruce and jason's relationship pre-jason's death in a way a feel many fics don't bother with. it's really really heartwarming.
The Jingle Jangle Morning by audreycritter. robin-era dick goes on a field trip and bruce has emotions. i think about this fic all the time tbh. it really sells bruce as a young, committed, and sweet father who really just wants to make sure dick is okay.
Tap Out by coyote_nebula. jason gets poisoned. oopsie. this whole series is excellent but i love this one for the way it builds up jason as a brother and a son, and the flashbacks to jason's early days after he was adopted by bruce. i truly wish there were more fics about newly adopted jason but what this fic offers scratches that itch for me.
buy back the secrets by sundiscus. in case you haven't heard this is the Timkon Fic of All Time. a 5+1 of times kon saved tim drake that has everything. identity shenanigans! tim and bruce pangs! kon and clark pangs! tim being extremely competent and extremely lonely! kon being extremely lonely and also pretty competent. this is technically a wip so i hope you'll forgive me for reccing it but it's really great and also totally worth it bc fer is absolutely 100% going to deliver and it's just. very good.
161 notes · View notes
hiatuswhore · 9 months
Text
𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝑀𝑜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝓎 𝒪𝓃𝑒 𝐼𝒱 — 𝐵𝓇𝒾𝒹𝑔𝑒𝓇𝓉𝑜𝓃
Tumblr media
♕ A/N: I am so sorry for just disappearing on this fic. I love this fic but I’ve been struggling with writers block BADLY. My think tank is broken or something. So since I disappeared for so long the word count is double the usual. Thanks for your patience. Feedback please!
♕ SUMMARY: Oh, the most scandalous season of the year has come to pass. After quite the successful year for the Bridgerton’s the eldest son plans to throw his hat in the ring. Concurrently the Sharma sisters do just the same. One a spinster, the other hopeful romantic, and the middle daughter? What can be said about such a force that is not said when she enters the room. Good luck to all who pursue her.
♕ WORD COUNT: 17.6K
♕ WARNINGS: None
previous — Masterlist — next
Tumblr media
THE NIGHT SKY SITS HIGH UP WITH A COOL BREEZE THROUGH THE WINDOW. Sitting alone in front of a vanity worth more than most of your things combined, you sit in the mirror, brushing your hair, toying with the idea of a marriage to William. It’s ideal—more than ideal, it comes with everything you want in life. An out from society, the means to do as you please, but still, it burdens you with a new level of expectations and responsibilities. No matter how much the choice glitters, it’s not gold. You cannot bring yourself to give him an answer.
Opening your room door slowly, you poke your head out quietly, scanning the corridor. At the sight of no one and the low hum of everyone to their own devices, you move cautiously through the hall. The stairs proved to be their own obstacle, with every creak threatening to reveal your scheming. Your end goal? The back porch, certain a moment beneath the stars.
“—you cannot be serious!” Stopping short, the back door sits in view a mere few steps away, but William’s voice halts your movement. The closed-door staring back at you, the persistent padding of the floor matching the faint shadow beneath hastily moving back and forth.
“Spare me, William! You speak on speculation alone!” Anthony seethes, his attempts to whisper clashing with his own frustration. A scandal? You want to listen, to cling to any information the private conversation offers, but the foyer lacks any semblance of coverage. It would only take one person opening the door to reveal your highly inappropriate snooping. As a guest of the Bridgertons, no good would come from this kind of trouble. You cast the moment to the back of your mind, acknowledging that you have more complicated matters than two Englishmen in a row.
Rising early the following day. Typically the beaming sun through the curtains and the loud chirping of birds result in dramatic whines and huffs. Not today. Before your mother or even Lady Danbury can rise to object, you ask Lady Violet to use the driver to see some of the countryside. Her nescience to your troublesome nature granting you jovial approval.
In the carriage, you rest your arms on the open window, the cool air blowing across your skin. The sun warms your face as you melt into the calm that comes with endless farmland.
“Excuse me, sir. Can you pull over, please?” You call out. The vibrant green shines with a sea of endless flowers, assuring John, the driver, that you will soon return while entering the open field. Walking through the grass, you march without a destination. Occasionally swatting away a fly or bug, your smile remains.
“Appa, look at this,” You whisper, eyes shining at the flowers around you. John’s no longer in sight. You are not positive about how far you have journeyed when you turn around. Without a worry, you continue back straight from the direction you came. After a long while, the lack of the familiar carriage comes with a wave of ambivalence. The silence continues on as a frown settles on your face, the terrain on a continuous loop.
Scolding your inability to follow any directions ever given to you. You drag your feet huffing at the uncomfortable rub of your boots. The concept of time now an illusion. Your mind says it’s been hours as your feet cry days. You thank the heavens above at the sound of a horse until you see who rides toward you with a pointed look.
“Must you always be so erratic? William and I have been searching for you for hours! Do tell, how does one get lost with no turns?” Anthony exclaims, stopping expertly at your side. You wipe the discomfort from your face as you cross your arms in front of your chest.
“First, I’ll have you know that I am not lost. Secondly, no one asked you to come searching for me!” Anthony points out the ways off you are from where the carriage let you out. Falling silent, you roll your eyes before holding out your hand to join Anthony on the horse.
“You can’t be seen riding on the back of my horse. It would be improper,” He says, keeping your hand out; you narrow your eyes at his words, “So, to be clear, you journeyed out here with no alternative of getting me to the estate? Have you come only to chastise me, Mother?”
“If you put it like that, then, of course, it sounds foolish,” Anthony grumbles, your right eye twitching as you fight the urge to push him off the horse, “Because it is foolish! Now spare me your silly formalities and help me up!”
His nose scrunches as a sigh leaves him. Taking your hand and pulling you up, he utilizes the opportunity to lecture you on every worst-case scenario. You secure your arms around his lower back and lean your head on his shoulder. He drones about the dangers of the particular area and how fortunate nothing occurred. While he continues listing every action of yours he deems a nuisance, you soak in the release of the tensions on your legs and feet. Before you know it, his words and the smooth trot of the horse lull you away.
“—are you even listening? Of course, you are not. Why would (Y/n) Sharma listen to anyone else other than herself?” Anthony says, glancing on his shoulder to find your eyes closed.
“Don’t be such a boorish oaf. It’s been a phenomenal day,” Yawning, you find yourself nuzzling further into the back of his shoulder as if nothing else matters. Anthony lets out a dry chuckle, keeping his focus ahead as his mind pushes William’s confession to the back of his thoughts.
Before you know it, Aubrey Hall stands in view like your saving grace. Daphne steps through the doors as Anthony helps you down from the horse. Her eyebrows furrow as she carefully eyes the two of you, “No matter how painfully dull I find you, I must say thank you for coming to get me. Repeat that to anyone and I’ll deny it to my dying breath.”
“I expect nothing less from you, Miss Sharma,” Anthony nods his head at your thank you as Daphne lingers by the steps. Her eyebrows furrow at the two of you as her mind generates connections she previously presumed to be false.
“(Y/n) Sharma! Have you gone mad? I was worried sick, my child,” Your mother rushes down the stairs pulling you into a tight hug. While relief fills her, it subsides as she pulls back from the hug with a pointed stare. “What have you done?”
“If I may, Lady Mary? It appears our driver just made haste. Miss Sharma was only a little ways off of the path. Indeed partaking in a breathtaking but safe area of the countryside,” You turn to Anthony as he speaks with a charming smile. His easygoing nature saves you from a long lecture you would have inevitably received from your mother.
“Well, then, my apologies, dearest. Lord Bridgerton, please accept my utmost gratitude for ensuring my daughters' safe return,” Lady Mary says as she takes your arms. She excuses the two of you with a polite smile before dragging you toward the house. You look back at Anthony with narrowed eyes, but he only offers a sardonic smile with a mocking wave. You are certain his help does not come without cost.
“Though Lord Bridgerton vouches for the safety of your insolence, you know better (Y/n)!” Your mother sighs with her back on the door.
“Mama, I did not wish to upset anyone. I just wanted to explore the countryside. You should have seen it. It was beautiful!” You sit on the edge of the bed as your mind fills with the flowers splintering in your memory. The reds, blues, and purples blending in your mind, the ache of your feet long gone.
“My darling, can we please just focus on ensuring tonight’s dinner goes without shenanigans?” Mary sighs, holding her composure she stares at you with patient eyes. “I need your word that while we are here as guests, you will do everything possible to ensure this visit goes smoothly. For Edwina’s sake.”
“Mama, it was only—“ You huff, but as she shakes her head, asking only for your word. “Of course, Mama. I want to make clear I would never do anything to jeopardize our family or Edwina’s happiness. I need to know you know that?”
Mary’s shoulders fall as she takes in your glassy-eyed gaze. She joins you on the edge of the bed, taking both your cheeks in her hand. “(Y/n) I know you believe that, but you fail to remember your actions have consequences. When it is just us, I am more than okay with your adventurousness. But here, my wildflower child is a different world than you know. One wrong move, and it can ruin us all.”
The heaviness of her words does not come without consequence. Even long after your mother leaves you, her words do not. The arrival of dinner does not allow you to dwell on the implications of your mothers' words. You sit between Colin and Benedict, with Kate and Eloise across from you.
“This room is exceptionally well-lit. Have you noticed, Col? How bout you, Lady (Y/n)? The twinkles of the candles, it’s as if—we sit among the stars,” Benedict speaks in awe that exceeds the contents of his words—amusement dances across your face as Colin's eyes continuously bounce to his mother and back to Benedict.
“What is wrong with you?” Eloise questions, mirroring your expression as she eyes her elder brother.
“I was just telling Benedict how brilliant the stars were in Greece,” Colin says as if his mind formulates his sentence as it leaves him.
“No, you weren—“ You raise an eyebrow as Colin lightly kicks your shin. The rest of the table watches the pause between the two of you. Colin offers you a pleading smile as you shake your head, shielding your lips with your glass. “You should know that I weaponize my silence. The cost is simple. Why is Benedict acting odd?”
“I gave him a powder that I acquired from my travels. He took far too much of it,” Colin says, earning a loud laugh that draws the attention of the rest of the table. You quickly recover by bringing your glass to your lips again; meeting William’s gaze, he raises an eyebrow. Shrugging your shoulders, you tilt your head toward Benedict until William’s eyes move to the left of you. The longer you stare at the Bridgerton, the more apparent his altered state appears.
“Are you enjoying your time here, Miss Edwina?” Daphne asks, diverting the attention to the opposite end of the table. Edwina sits with Colin to her right and Anthony to her left. Daphne sits across from her with Anthony to her left and William to her right.
“I am, very much. The buzz of the city is thrilling indeed, but I quite enjoy the peace of the country,” Edwina smiles brightly as most of the table watches her. Your attention more on Benedict, who continues quietly in your ear about the room's beauty. Lady Danbury watches you quietly with Kate at her left and Lady Violet at her right. You silently thank whoever made the seating arrangements as your mother sits beside Benedict, unable to eye you the entire night.
“As do I. Though I dare say. It is not quite so peaceful with my entire family in residence,” Anthony points out. Rolling your eyes, you find William chuckling softly, his eyes on you.
“Certainly, I cannot compare my family to your seven brothers and sisters, but you have all become familiar with my wonderfully chaotic sister (Y/n). Kate and I were known to be a handful growing up, but Mama always had her hands full with (Y/n),” Edwina says, leaning forward to catch her gaze; you offer a playful wink. Kate does not miss the opportunity to share when you decided you no longer desired the hair on your head.
“Not this again,” You whine, shaking your head as Kate details how you excitedly carried your hair in your hand.
“I had never seen Mama become so flustered so rapidly. She was endlessly chasing (Y/n) throughout our home,” Edwina details as a chorus of laughter fills the table. Daphne's giggles cease as William huffs to the right of her. She follows his gaze to her left. A smile ghosts on Anthony’s lips as he watches how you laugh sheepishly. Anthony’s eyes focus on you, a nostalgic glint in his eyes,
“(Y/n) was such a fast child I could rarely catch her when she was determined to not be caught,” Your mother smiles, her eyes glazing over as if she leaves the dinner table to relive that memory. The story lacks the part where your father caught you. Despite your upset mother, he only laughed. Not a simple laugh, one without end—he laughed so hard the rest of you could not help but follow suit.
“In seriousness, both Kate and (Y/n) bear heavy responsibilities for our family. (Y/n) has never allowed any moment, no matter how hard in our lives to go without some silver lining. If anyone can help you through a tough time, it’s her. We’d have never survived the tough days without her,” Edwina continues as you look to find her gaze, only to find Anthony’s. It lasts seconds as you roll your eyes at him before looking at your sister. A chuckle leaves his lips as he fails to hear Edwina talk about Kate. Daphne watches warily as William silently watches his oblivious best friend.
“That sounds remarkably similar to you, Anthony,” Daphne says, watching as her brother snaps back into the conversation, “Much familial responsibility to bear, indeed.”
Kate catches Daphne's knowing gaze, and the two watch each other silently for several seconds. You sit watching Colin fail to keep Benedict in check, knocking over his glass and covering his face. When he removes his hand, it reveals a child-like grin, sheer contentment.
“Benedict dear, you alarm our guests,” Lady Violet says with the grace of a seasoned noble. A perfect blend of warmth and patronization. You know that tone all too well.
“Not at all,” Kate says as you offer a giant smile to Lady Violet. The sound of Lady Danbury’s fork against her glass commands the room's attention.
“It is time for a toast,” Lady Danbury says. A smooth distraction, chuckling, you glance at Benedict.
“A good idea. To cheer our guests,” Lady Violet says as your mother beams happily at the idea. It’s clear what they hope to achieve at this dinner, and you find it rather nauseating how they puppeteer it all.
“Or to tend to other pressing matters,” Lady Danbury's words are everything short of subtle. The attention turns to Anthony and Edwina quickly. Kate makes eye contact with Daphne, then with you. While you look unfazed by the inevitable purpose of this invitation, it’s clear Kate seeks a haste exit.
“My—I believe my sisters and I have grown weary,” Kate says. A sharp kick to your shin blocks your attempts to deny her words as you hiss quietly.
“Whatever you gave Benedict, you might need to give it to Kate,” You whisper to Colin, who turns to your sister. She holds her wine close to her lips as her fingers drum against the glass. Her posture’s stiff as she looks at Anthony as if her eyes can strike him dead.
“A toast. Yes,” Anthony rises from the head of the table as you all raise your glasses. “My sincere gratitude to the Sharmas for joining us. It has been splendid having you here to witness what is now my second annual loss at Pall-Mall. Not to be repeated, I assure you. And my special gratitude to Miss Edwina. It has certainly been a privilege to truly make your acquaintance these past few days. In fact, I believe there is a question I would like to ask you.”
You watch as most of the table sits at the very edge of their seats as Anthony pauses. Your eyes cut to Daphne, your eyebrows furrowing at the sight. Daphne steals glances at William, whose lips press tight as he stares at Anthony with—confusion? Kate shares Daphne’s weary expression, and you furrow your eyebrows as something does not quite click. Anthony now stands with his hands clasped behind his back, scanning the room. His eyes find your own, furthering your confusion as he pauses for a second. Anthony moves his gaze to William, and the two appear to speak to one another without saying a single word.
“I should like to uh—I should like to ask you please refrain from telling anyone back in London about yesterday's loss. I fear the harm to my reputation would simply be too great,” Awkward chuckles chorus through the room, but you glare daggers at the Viscount. You may not know classic literature well or Latin, but you know your sisters. The fall of Edwina’s face appears subtle, but the sting of Anthony’s words are unmistakable. Daphne and Kate let out sighs of relief as William stares at you. You cannot decipher what he contemplates, but you are sure it has something to do with Kate, Daphne, and Anthony. Dinner continues, and the end cannot come fast enough.
Finally, just your sisters and yourself. Kate rubs Edwina’s head as you sit without words. Deep frown lines crease Edwina’s forehead, her eyes misty, and you are confident that her self-scrutiny eats away at her insides.
“You must know you did nothing wrong,” Kate dares to say, but Edwina’s words are sharp as she speaks almost instantly, “I must have done something. The rest of the ton are now set to join us in the country. Surely, if the Viscount were to propose, he’d have done it by now. Yes?”
“Edwina, you are putting far too much pressure on yourself. You are wonderful, and they know it,” You take her hand in both your own, bringing it up to your lips.
“That is easy for you to say. People always love you, no matter where you go. You were proposed to by a man in line for the throne of England, Lady Violet dotes on you, and you charmed the Queen. You don’t even try and have done far better than I am. What if I missed my chance? Perhaps I should’ve found out more about the Bridgertons. I should’ve known more about their interests. I should’ve been better,” Edwina does not allow either of you to get a word in as a tear escapes her eyes. You place a chaste kiss on the back of her hand as your chest aches at her words.
“Edwina, do not fool yourself. How am I doing better, and yet you are the diamond of the season? You are amazing and do not need to study a man's family to prove your worthiness. If a proposal is what you want, I will beat it out of the Viscount myself if you so wish it,” Earning a chuckle from Edwina and Kate, the tension eases as a small smile plays on Edwina’s lips. It does not reach her eyes, but you do not expect to expel her fears so quickly.
A soft cry leaves her lips in one shaky breath, “I have bungled this entire affair, and now I feel like a fool.”
“Never say such a thing, Bon. I knew he would only end up hurting you. Come here,” Kate says, wrapping Edwina in her arms. You join the other side closing your youngest sister in. Your heads touch as you focus on the sound of Edwina's quiet sobs. “I hate seeing you like this.”
“I thought he liked me,” Edwina cries, her hand squeezing you both a little tighter. You meet Kate's gaze, nudging your head, telling her it was now her turn to give a pep talk.
“(Y/n) is right, Bon. You are the diamond of the season. There is nary a gentleman back in London who does not wish for your hand. You have choices, Bon. I assure you that all will be well despite this disappointment with the Viscount. Plus, do you truly wish to marry someone our sister might murder?” A loud laugh leaves Edwina’s lips as you nod in agreement with Kate. Despite the heaviness of the conversation, a warmth lingers in the air.
Tumblr media
The following day you wake to Kate rushing into your room, sitting up; you grumble as she mutters apologies. She moves to your things, removing the cream you have used on many cuts over the years.
“Are you alright?” You ask as she applies it near her collarbone. She assures you everything’s fine. “What happened to your chest?”
“I got a bee sting while near the gardens—“ You frown as she trails off, her eyebrows furrowing as your presence seems no longer relevant. “While I am not fond of the Viscount, you could help him.”
“Why am I helping him?” You ask. Initially, you do not believe her tale of being stung in the gardens and the Viscounts' familiar reaction.
“I do not know his history, Bon. What I do know is there is something with him and bees. I think he shares your ailment. It appeared like he could not breathe. He looked so afraid—his hands were shaking. Bon, I fear I will never understand your ailment, but for the first time, there is someone who can. Please talk to him, not for him—for you.” Kate crouches at your bedside, brushing your hair with her fingers much like she would after one of your episodes. You do not say a word during the entirety of her explanation. Rarely do any of you talk about your ailment. Kate caught it during the announcement of the season’s diamond, but beyond that, it had been relatively dormant.
“I will not seek him out, but if we happen to cross each other paths, I will inquire if he is indeed alright,” You say. Kate smiles, kissing your forehead before leaving your room. It only takes you mere minutes to get ready, not bothered by doing your hair in some precious way. Your mother, Lady Violet, Lady Danbury, and Daphne appear busy planning the lunch. The Bridgerton siblings scatter amongst the large estate to their own devices, and your sister appears nowhere in sight.
While you said you would not seek him out, you find yourself in the gardens. The flowers bloom beautifully with a significant number of hyacinths in view. You marvel at the simplicity.
“Miss Sharma,” Anthony joins your side, but his gaze stays on the flowers. You watch him carefully as he eyes them not in awe but with a cloudy disposition.
“Lord Bridgerton,” You say, turning to the flowers. Anthony's expression does not change, leaving you wondering if he even heard you. Uncertainty plagues you as you are sure what you want to say but not when to say it. “I will not dawdle any longer. I fear I am familiar with where you are now in this ailment. After the horrifying feeling as if all the air will leave your body at once comes that strange calm, where you feel as though you cannot feel anything.”
Anthony’s head whips in your direction, but you do not move your eyes from the flowers. The look on his face tells you that you are on the right track, but it does not confirm your assumptions, “Kate told me what occurred earlier. Correct me if I am wrong, but typically it comes randomly, right? Often in the most inopportune times but typically from certain settings.”
“I—you are mistaken, Miss Sharma. I, the Viscount, suffer no ailment, just temporary lapses,” He does not offer you much as he turns his attention back to the flowers, and you both share similar frowns.
“There is no shame in it, Lord Bridgerton. My father used to say we all have something, if not an ailment—an insecurity. A lot of my insecurities trigger my ailment, if I am quite honest. I have a lot to live up to with two great sisters. I am a lousy shot and not as cognizant as Kate. I lack resilience. I just bury my troubles with humor. Then there’s Edwina, whom you would be a fool to not marry. She checks every box of those silly questions of yours—excelling in modern and classical literature. Which are without a doubt boring,” Anthony chuckles as he listens intently. You let out a huff as you look up and meet his gaze. He appears in awe almost.
“Miss Sharma, I think you are undoubtedly your own harshest critic. You need not be like Kate because you find and elevate the room's most exciting part. Who cares if you are a lousy shot? My younger brothers excelled in shooting before I. You have voiced your distaste for classic literature, and it does edify the mind, but one has to enjoy it to sharpen their wit,” He clasps his hands in front of him, offering a sheepish smile as you look at him. A small smile threatens to break the frown on your lips. While you look off at nothing in particular, you miss how he looks at you. At ease, he appears unusually calm, not stressing the ball or his search for a wife.
“I—I must admit that I was wrong about you, Lord Bridgerton,” You say. A chuckle left his lips while correcting you.
“Anthony,” He says. You nod your head as a smirk tugs at your lips before mocking him.
“You suddenly think we are friends?” He looks incredulously at your sardonic tone, “Oh, do not look at me as if you are unfamiliar with who I am? You can call me by my name if you like. Last I checked, I lack a title and am not a man.”
He scrunched his nose before chuckling as your personality shined through. “With much regret (Y/n), I do agree with you to a point. You lack a title, but I am a gentleman.”
“Spare me your self-righteousness, Lord Bridgerton. I guess I should congratulate you. You have finally acquired the favor of one Sharma sister, now only one more to go, and you can wed Edwina,” Anthony’s face falls at your words. Looking past the garden, William walks toward you both. He ignores your playful smile as his eyes focus on Anthony to your right.
“Miss Sharma, we require a moment alone,” William says, glaring daggers in Anthony’s direction. He does not spare you a single glance as he waits for your departure.
“Miss Sharma?” You scoff at the formality, waiting for him to look at you. After a few seconds, William’s pointed gaze turns toward you.
“Your presence is likely needed elsewhere, and if I am not mistaken, it is highly inappropriate to be with Viscount Bridgerton unchaperoned,” He sounds like your mother, and you do nothing to cover your scowl.
“I know not of your issue, and I do not like whoever this is before me. When you find the time to pull your head out of your arse, then and only then will I happily enjoy your presence. Good day Lord Beauregard,” Your mocking curtsy’s evident before you stomp from the gardens into Aubrey Hall. The rest of the day continues in a blur of your mother preparing you and Edwina for lunch. In the middle of your mother doing your hair, a tap on the door becomes the room's focal point. Mary calls out enter, to which a maid reveals a letter for you from the Duke.
Lady (Y/n),
My apologies for my demeanor earlier. I am cross with my very best friend, and I fear I took it out on you. I will not be in attendance for lunch, for I fear tensions run far too high between Anthony and I. I will be in attendance at the ball. Until then.
Lord Beauregard
“Why is the Duke cross with the Viscount? They are dear friends,” Your mother says, reading over your shoulder, shrugging lazily at the neat cursive you toss it aside.
“Lord Beauregard is upset with Lord Bridgerton? Maybe that is why he did not propose?” Edwina says. You say nothing as Kate observes you as Edwina and your mother continue theorizing. Newton nuzzles at your feet as you hold your tongue. Your mother excuses herself, leaving the three of you alone. Kate still urges Edwina to recognize that she has no shortage of options in terms of suitors. This reality matters little, Edwina speaks passionately, and you cannot discredit her logic. Anthony can indeed provide her with the life she wants—deserves. Kate sighs, looking toward you. Shrugging your shoulders, you scratch the top of Newton’s head. Edwina keeps her gaze low as she speaks cautiously, “Sisters, I’ve been thinking.”
“Clearly,” You mutter under your breath, earning a pointed stare from Kate. Edwina’s shoulders fall as she glances between the two of you. “Apologies, bon, continue.”
Edwina straightens her posture lifting her chin. Raising your eyebrow, you cannot help the faint quirk of your lips. The anticipation of Edwina’s following words nearly comical, far too dramatic for your liking, “I am now quite certain I know why he has not yet made his declaration.”
Kate stiffens, glancing at you briefly before looking back at Edwina. The action terse, earning a furrow in your eyebrows at her. Edwina looks between the two of you with this confidence that you are certain has the strength of wet tissue paper. Her features too frail, and her voice far too delicate, “It's because of the two of you. (Y/n) you push too harshly at him and Kate; you hate one another.”
Edwina crosses the room crossing her arms, contemplating the situation. You eye Kate, her posture loosens, and a long breath leaves her. She looks back at you, and the pause lasts far longer than it should. Kate shakes her gently while turning to Edwina, “Uh, hate is probably too strong a word.”
“And quite frankly, I have been going rather easy on the Viscount,” You say, leaning back in your seat, taking note to later ask Kate what’s going on. Edwina's eyes widen, a glint flashing across her irises. “Oh no, whatever it is you’re thinking, I already hate it.”
“It is clear from your exchanges with the Viscount that he shares the feelings you each have for him. (Y/n) the two of you often banter, but the line between friendship and disdain is far too blurry. Kate, the two of you simply bicker, the line is very clear, and you are on the wrong side of it. All of this time, I thought I needed help getting him to fall in love with me. But I now realize I neeapparentting him to fall in love with both of you,” Edwina speaks softly, joining you on the couch. You can feel Kate’s gaze searing into your skin as she frowns at Edwina.
“Well, I don’t know about love, but the Viscount and I have recently found some common ground. I actually gave him my blessing earlier today,” You speak casually, watching Edwina squeal excitedly. She quickly pecks your cheek before turning to Kate with a soft smile. Kate’s sharp stare does not leave you even as Edwina urges Kate to try harder.
“I have not given up, I will not give up,” Edwina says with a dreamy look in her eyes. She rests her head on your shoulder, failing to see the tense stare between the two of you. Kate wastes no time in asking Edwina to go retrieve your mother.
At the closing of the door, the room still, you both stare each other waiting for the other to speak. Newton whines softly from the floor, the tension all-consuming in the sunlit room. You scoff, crossing your arms, “If you have something to say, just say it. The shared looks with Daphne and William and looks of scrutiny are becoming rather irritating.”
Kate huffs as her shoulders fall. She glances around the room before her eyes come back to you. The second she speaks, you do nothing to hide the grimace that takes your features, her tones gentle. Too gentle, you know it all too well, “Have you lost your mind? Why would you give Anthony your blessing? This will only further complicate things.”
“Do not patronize me, Kate. What are you even on about? We do not have to like him, Kate, but we cannot deny that he can give Edwina the life she wants. A large family, simple affections, dutiful husband,” You stand up with an incredulous glint in your eyes.
“A life where her husband and sister have feelings for each other?” Kate’s words rip through you. The weight of her allegation thinning the air around you. You blink several times as though if you do it enough, it will reset time, virtually ending this conversation.
“I would never hurt Edwina like that. That is a vile accusation,” You seethe, stepping closer to Kate, the breeze from the window cooling the fury that burns your skin. Kate places her hands cautiously on your shoulders. She knows how to anger you just as easily as soothe you.
“I know, bon, but we cannot ignore the truth of the matter,” Kate says, biting the inside of your cheek; you shake her hand off your shoulder. At the window, you peer out at nothing, in particular, swallowing thickly.
“He is courting Edwina, that is all,” You do not look at her as you speak, busying yourself with the many who prepare the backyard of Aubrey Hall with tables and umbrellas.
“I confronted him during Pall Mall about this subject matter. He, too, dismissed me. Neither of you even deny your feelings, only emphasize the inappropriate nature to which your relationship treks dangerously close,” Kate says, being greeted with your silence as you focus as though the workers perform for you. A long sigh fills the silence, “I do not wish to upset you, sister. We swim in precarious waters. If not careful, we’ll drown.”
You turn to Kate, your eyes glassy. Neither of you move, and Edwina’s jubilant voice sounds in the corridor. Before the door opens, you speak barely above a whisper, “We’re friends, that is all.”
Edwina rushes into the room ahead of your mother. She runs to the clothing, insistent on picking her best dress. Your mother glances between you and Kate. It seems she catches all that Edwina misses, and still, no one speaks a word of it.
Though not customary, you wear a sleeveless apricot dress that your mother forces you to pair with a sheer shawl. You walk without a destination with Kate through the backyard, the sea of faces, unfamiliar--the people, uninteresting.
“Sisters!” You can recognize Edwina’s light tone anywhere, her voice lacking the faint bass of your tone. Edwina sits with Anthony. Kate glances your way as Anthony meets your gaze. The pause brief. You glance at Kate before both of you look back to Edwina, her smile beaming. If she notices the hesitancy, she does not show it. “Come sit with us!”
Anthony rises as you both approach. As you approach the seat across from Anthony, Kate stands by the chair across from Edwina. Your eyebrows pinch as you look at Anthony, now questioning every little detail about his demeanor—every little detail about your own.
“Miss Sharma,” Anthony stands with his hands behind his back, dutifully nodding at both of you. You fight every urge to call him Serg.
“Lord Bridgerton,” Kate says. You nod your head fighting your better nature. The boundary between yourself and your potential brother-in-law now hazy. You like his disdain, maybe even prefer it. Contempt can be understood, but anything else resembles putting together a puzzle with missing pieces. You always did like to hide away parts of the puzzles to avoid finishing them.
The three of you sit down, sharing awkward glances as Edwina smiles, sticking out amongst the polite smiles. Anthony clears his throat, momentarily filling the silence. You fidget with a string hanging from your dress as Edwina looks at Kate.
“Did you tell the Viscount about your bee sting?” Your eyes cut to Kate, then Anthony as the question seemingly stills the table further. Kate chuckles softly. She looks at Anthony, speaking plainly. He offers a mock ah that earns an eye roll as you fiddle with your dress string. Edwina’s gaze turns to you, “Sister, you are quiet. Are you alright?”
“Tired perhaps,” Shrugging, Edwina huffs softly but maintains her chipper smile. The table conversation relies focally on Edwina bouncing between the three of you. Edwina suggests that Anthony give you and Kate a tour before you can decline; both Anthony and Kate speak over each other.
“I’ll be shooting with the other gentlemen. The party is to leave quite soon, I’m afraid,” Anthony offers a charming smile toward Edwina. Your younger sister perks up, not missing the opportunity to announce your adept skills in tracking and Kate’s excellent shot. Kate scoffs as Anthony laughs, seemingly dismissing the revelation.
“Do you not think it true?” Kate says. Benedict approaches, reminding Anthony it’s almost time to go. You cannot fight the grin off your lips at the sight of Kate. She has that look on her face. The one where she gets crazy competitive and enables your shenanigans.
Anthony chuckles, glancing at you just as you roll your eyes and laugh, “Perhaps your sister excels in fields with straight aim and level ground, but surely they would have some trouble managing—“
“Well, that certainly wasn’t condescending at all,” You murmur very clearly, raising an eyebrow as you look at him. Kate follows with her own question as Anthony steps further into it. Benedict smiles largely as his oldest brother crashes and burns rather quickly.
“I only mean to say—“ Anthony's slow drawl fuels your amusement. He meets your gaze, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly.
“Because we are women?” Kate says.
“No. I did not say that.” Anthony's gaze swiftly turns to Kate. At this point, he fumbles to clarify his point, merely shoving his foot farther into his mouth.
“But you implied it,” You point out, glancing at Benedict, whose grin falls as Anthony looks at him. Anthony then chuckles, speaking with a newfound diction, “Ladies, do not hunt.”
Kate quickly distinguishes between what ladies are and are not allowed to do. You bite your bottom lip, mirroring Benedict’s grin as Edwina redirects the conversation. Before you know it, you chuckle while changing in your room as Kate grumbles about Anthony, her irritation of the smug Bridgerton allowing you reprieve from her hefty assumptions. You push her accusation and William's proposal to the back of your mind. The fresh country air pulls a large smile to your lips. The glances from the other men barely reach you as Kate glares at them. Your and Kate's chaperone struggling like a fool on her horse behind the two of you. You sit on the back of Kate’s horse, your eyes taking in all the greenery, specifically the dirt that sits just faintly visible beneath it. The untrained eye would miss the faint but present signs of life in the area. One of the gentlemen up ahead calls the hunting party to the right.
“To the right?” You mutter, your eyebrows pinching as you glance over Kate’s shoulder. Several men steer their horses right as your eyes lock on Anthony’s back, the mocking tone leaving you with ease, “Viscount Bridgerton, do we intend to merely gaze at nature this day?”
“I do like your riddles, Miss Sharma, but I would love it if you spoke plainly,” Anthony says, his overly saccharine smile matching his mocking tone. Kate supplants Benedict spot riding next to Anthony, putting the two of you in clear view of the other.
“My sister's, right. Look, tracks are going off to the left. You can see the cloven shape in the moss,” Kate says. You spot her find, nodding your head as you gesture to the closest tree to the tracks, “The markings of the tree, deer like to rub their antlers against them.”
“Let’s stay with the group. If we find nothing, I shall offer myself up for both your target practice,” Anthony says, rolling your eyes as you scoff.
“You shall most likely come out unscathed as my target but rest assured, Kate won’t miss,” You taunt, tilting your head mockingly. Anthony narrows his eyes at you, a smile ghosting upon his lips. Kate glances between the two of you, sighing as she clears her throat, ending the moment as swiftly as it arrives. Silence blankets the three of you. You rest your head on the back of Kate’s shoulder, huffing quietly. The silence lives for only a few seconds as you perk up, “Lord Bridgerton, do you know why Lord Beauregard departed so abruptly?”
“He likely made haste once he realized you are more vexing than you are charming,” Anthony says with a matter-of-fact tone as you roll your eyes.
“I knew you thought me charming. The rest of your family certainly finds me to be so,” You fire back instantly, a smirk on your lips as you hold your chin up high. Anthony mimics your eye roll while looking ahead, your moment short-lived as William’s proposal lingers in your mind. You continue with half-hearted amusement while drumming against the saddle, “It’s unlikely William runs from me given his desire to make me his bride.”
Your eyes fog over as you presently leave the moment, Anthony’s locked stare failing to garner your attention. His voice lacks the condescension it has carried throughout the entirety of the day. He ignores Kate’s stare as he looks at you, asking, “You are engaged?”
The drop of your stomach at his question makes you sit straight as a pencil, a distant ringing in your ear faint and nagging. If Kate notices, she does not show or voice it. It seems that minutes—no perhaps hours pass since the question leaves Anthony’s lips, and yet his brother calls after him mere seconds after. Yet the question still lingers. You find yourself considering the possibilities. Will you marry him? You should have an answer. At least that’s what you believe.
Uncertain. Unbecoming. Unworthy.
A foolish—Kate’s voice pulls you back to the present. The horse comes to a stop as the masses dismount and scatters amongst the woods, “Sister, are you alright?”
“Always,” You say, climbing down with a grin. Kate eyes you carefully, and you wonder if she can see how you bury the anxiety, smothering its fire and leaving mere smoke in its wake.
Marching through the woods, you put your focus on your surroundings. You ignore how Kate challenges the others on how to go about the hunt. Kate and Anthony, too consumed bickering to notice how you veer off further and further from each of them. The lean, long-legged ruminant mammal greets your gaze with glowing reddish-brown fur with a cream-colored underbelly. A quiet chuckle leaves your lips, placing your gun down. You watch it in awe.
“Good find, bon!” Kate whispers. She joins your side, meeting your amazed expression with a proud smile. Anthony joins the two of you quite loudly, both of you shushing him as he thankfully did not manage to rouse the deer.
“Are you two quite serious? You cannot just go off like that,” Anthony scolds. Rolling your eyes, you scoff.
“If I wished to just see the trees and shrubbery, I would’ve gladly stayed and followed your very skilled guide,” Your sardonic tone earns a mocking smile, the two of you appearing like squabbling children.
“Lord Bridgerton, would you please be quiet. Bon, it’s your find. You should take the shot,” Kate says. All eyes fall on you, a chuckle leaving your parted lips as you stammer before the words escape you. Your sentences do not form or leave you as you glance at your gun.
Anthony purses his lips as Kate holds her gun out to you. You stare at the gun for several seconds, swallowing thickly. Just as you go to refuse, your blood boils as Anthony’s words reach your ears, “Miss Sharma, cowardice looks good on no one.”
“Takes a craven to know one,” You grumble. Taking the gun from Kate’s hand, you crouch down on the fallen tree. The barrel, at a comfortable place below your shoulder against your armpit, you inhale deeply, controlling the subtle tremble of your hands. Your palms glide against the gun faintly, coating it in a light sheen of sweat. You squeeze the trigger, closing your eyes, the sound scurrying away, telling you the verdict of your shot. Standing up, the sound of the hunting party rushing overfills your ears. Biting the inside of your cheek, your mind scrambles to prepare quick comebacks at the inevitable teasing that heads your way from the Viscount Bridgerton.
Just as the first few faces arrive, Anthony’s voice fills the silence, “It headed that way. It appears I am a bit rusty, but both Miss Kate and Miss (Y/n) are to be credited for finding the deer.“
Kate meets your gaze with a knowing look, but it does not matter as neither of you says a word to the other. The bout of confusion silencing, Kate does not push the subject any further than earlier, and you are grateful.
As the sky bleeds orange, it soon blackens, leaving you to lie awake with the pattering of rain outside your window to keep you company. Like most nights, you slip out of your room to your favorite part of Aubrey Hall, the steps. Sheltered by the house without being in the place. You rest your legs on your elbows on your knees, your chin against your palms like a patient child. The rain falls in heavy droplets, and light splashes mist up, just barely reaching you. It’s constant and unwavering. Approaching steps lull as soft as the pouring rain. You glance at the cup placed at your side.
“I like to have tea on my restless nights. It’s soothing,” Anthony sits at your side, staring out at the rain as he speaks. He takes a cautious sip of his own tea, glancing over at you when silence greets him. You stare at him with a raised brow glancing between him and the cup sitting next to you.
“I prefer—“
“Coffee. Perhaps if you take the time to look at the cup, you will recognize it,” Anthony says casually, taking another sip of his tea. You look at the light brown drink, steam wafting from it to your nose. The sweet smell leaves your mouth salivating in anticipation.
“Is your plot to assassinate me, Viscount Bridgerton? Presenting as a dutiful potential future brother-in-law with a cup of arsenic in hand?” You ask. Taking the handle of your cup, you bring it to your lips while holding Anthony’s gaze, amusement dancing in your eyes.
“Why, of course, my lady. Name a better pass time. I’ll wait,” He says, earning a chuckle as you wipe the remnant of the coffee from your lips. It lacks the nutmeg and cardamom you are used to. The bittersweet taste familiar but all the more different.
“Very funny, Viscount Bridgerton,” You chuckle softly, taking another sip as you peer back out at the rain. The muggy air and warm drinks flush your skin, a faint tint of reddish pink covering you. It’s serene but not perfect with the uncomfortable temperature, poor visibility, and loud silence. Yet it works. Neither you nor he moves to break this solitude. It lasts for seemingly a lifetime in mere minutes.
“William asked you to marry him?” Anthony says. You sigh, placing down your cup of coffee. You can see Anthony’s watching you from the corner of your eye.
“I presumed he would tell his best friend,” You are quick but not fast enough.
“Do you love him?” Anthony asks. You stare out at the rain with an unreadable expression. Your silence does not paint your truth to its full scope.
“I love William, I do. But I’m not in love with William,” You swallow thickly, your fingers fidgeting in your lap, “He wishes for me to be happy. Yet he does not understand what love does.”
“And what is that?” Anthony murmurs. He looks away from you, tracing the rim of his cup.
“It—“ You open your mouth just as your thoughts jumble in your mind. Taking a deep breath, Anthony glances over at you, a curious glint in his eyes. You cannot help but notice how you hold his full attention, “Love is like an anchor. It drags down to the sea. Further and further from reality, the reality is that marriage is an economic proposition. I do not wish to delve into detail, but the fantasy of love and marriage have long been sullied for me. I do not desire it nor require it. I know that may sound harsh, but it is my truth.”
“Not harsh at all. Refreshing perhaps,” Anthony says quietly. You nearly do not hear him. He takes a sip of his tea before clearing his throat, “After, uh, after my father passed, it took such a heavy toll on my mother. They shared a great love which showed all the good, but once you’ve seen the bad, it’s near—near—“
“Irreversible,” You say softly, finishing his sentence and meeting his eyes. The rain rages on, the soothing white noise all-consuming. You flinch as the sky brightens with the strike of purple lightning that flashes across the sky. The loud following booms rumbling the ancestral home.
“Perhaps it is time to retire to our rooms. Allow me to escort you,” Anthony says. You raise an eyebrow at him with a teasing grin. He rolls his eyes taking a taunting tone, “To ensure the arsenic takes, of course.”
Chuckling softly, you reach for your cup, cut off as Anthony takes it before you. You offer a mock surrender raising your hands in defeat earning a chuckle. Anthony walks you to your room door. Pausing before entering, speaking just barely above a whisper, “Tell anyone of this, and I will deny it. You are not as dreadful as you present yourself to be.”
“Great final words, my lady,” Anthony jokes, earning an eye roll as you bid him goodnight before disappearing into your room. Inside you choose not to dwell on the conversation too long, finding sleep at the touch of your face to your pillow.
Tumblr media
You stand with Lady Danbury flittering with the uncomfortable corset rather than pay attention to all in attendance. Lady Danbury glances at you, vocalizing the arrival of Lord Beauregard. Your eyes dart across the room, considering blending into the sea of ambitious ladies and their slithering mothers.
“Miss Sharma,” William offers a warm smile while holding out a glass of wine. He apologizes for his absence, suggesting they dance.
“Mhm, do I let you off the hook so easily?” You sip your wine with a tilt of your head, a playful glint dazzling your eyes. William lets out a hearty laugh, his own sparkle shining with mischief.
“Please, oh beautiful Miss Sharma. Please forgive me, for I cannot continue without your forgiveness,” William clutches his chest, throwing his head back dramatically. The laugh that leaves your lips rises from deep in your stomach. Your cheeks grow sore as you ignore the looks of others. It’s almost easy to forget the frivolity of being in William’s company.
“Shut up and dance with me,” You chuckle. Discarding your cup, you take William’s hand, leading him to the dance floor. He bows as you curtsy, the two of you taking your uniform positions. Step back. Chin up high. Lift your hand. Turn. Each step visibly graceful and painfully robotic, controlled.
“I don’t wish to pressure you, but I cannot help but wonder where your thoughts are on my proposition of sorts,” William says. He makes the dance look easy. Each move carried out as though instinctive.
“Mhm, binding myself to the royal family who currently lacks an heir puts me dangerously close to being wed to a man who could be king someday. You offer not a simple proposition but a hefty proposal that cannot be taken lightly,” Your matter-of-fact tone impedes your count. William shifts right, covering your stumble with a light lift as he turns the both of you. When your feet touch the ground, you grumble a thank you continuing the dance, “I am too uncoordinated.”
“Some could say unique,” William counters. Taking your hand, he spins you gently.
“Unfit,” You fire back, continuing your count, step back. Hand on his shoulder, the other in his hand.
As expected of the dance, William steps forward following your step back. His nose brushes your own as his gaze does not falter, “Perfect. Absolutely perfect. Without a doubt.”
Your voice catches in your throat, William looking at you as imagine man did upon discovering fire. While your decision remains unclear, you are certain of one thing. The security and companionship of William’s offer. Your eyes glaze over, thoughts flooding your mind all at once. William chuckles softly, pulling away, continuing a simple sway. “I do not aim to make you uncomfortable or pressure you. Only for you to see you as I do.
“It appears Eloise is enjoying this night just as much as you,” William looks over at Eloise. She dances a few paces to your left. Her eyebrows pinched as her eyes narrowed at Lord…you cannot put a name to his face. In seconds the gentleman walks away as Lady Bridgerton follows Eloise to the stairs. Her exchange with her mother does not reach you, but the looks are all too familiar. Lady Violet's unable to understand her daughter but proceeds with gentle patience, Eloise’s frustration. Neither understands the other. You find yourself glancing across the room at your own mother.
She smiles encouragingly, blissfully unaware of your plight. Unable to see the world through your eyes.
“You should go after her,” William says, pulling away from the simple box step you’ve both resigned to. Your eyebrows furrow as William bows, with a fond smile as he speaks, “Eloise Bridgerton. A comely lady of the ton going against the norms of the system set upon them. Sound familiar?”
You cannot stop the smile that spreads across your face. William nudges his head toward the direction Eloise disappeared. Nodding your head, you follow the stairs, passing Penelope on your way. She quickly calls out where to find Eloise. It does not take you long to find her door. You offer two light knocks, turning your head to listen in.
“I wish to be alone!”
“Might I join you? I certainly wish for a reprieve from the farce that occurs in your family home,” Chuckling, you lean on the door frame. Shuffling behind the door greeting you with the distant music of the ball continuing on down the hall. After a few seconds, you are sure she will ignore you, but the opening of the door welcomes you. Eloise sits on the floor a few feet from the door. She pulls at the string of her dress, watching as a piece of hem gently unravels. You take a seat next to her, drumming your fingers against your thighs, “do you wish to talk about it?”
“Being my mothers' disappointment? Not particularly,” Eloise says with a matter-of-fact tone.
“I get it. The feeling is rather draining. Focus on it too much, and you’ll find yourself scrutinizing every detail about yourself,” You say, resting your head back against the wall. The laxness of your tone contrasts her furrowed eyebrows.
“You feel like your mothers' disappointment?” Her incredulous tone earns a chuckle as you nod with a gentle smile. “Not a chance. You’re pretty and charismatic, every mother's dream.”
“Many find me argumentative and blunt. Kate is more reserved. She has mastered proper etiquette. Edwina is the comely charismatic one. Most days, I can’t tell if Mother fears what I might do or what I might say,” Your words leave you quickly, shrugging as you near ramble. Wetting your lips, you chuckle as Eloise continues your rambling, “And even when you say something outside of the norm as they’re expecting, they act as though it surprises them. As if they don’t know our natures.”
“Ah, so my Mom isn’t special. It just comes with the having a mother package, I see,” You jest, chuckling softly as Eloise does as well. Only little shards of the prior remains. A reminder in the music that plays from downstairs as the ball continues. The fancy dresses you both wear that itch at the neckline and constrict your midsection. Reminders in your stations amongst society, “Eloise, we are the second daughters. The middle children, like shadows not clearly seen but fairly visible. Existing behind the first and last born daughters. It may sound like a sad reality, but there’s something rather amazing about us.”
“Being ignored and forced to conform?” Eloise’s eyebrows pinch as she stares at your chuffed stupor.
After a few seconds of staring off with the grin of a fool, you speak. Your voice much like velvet, appearing as though nothing in the world could hurt you, “We get to be whomever we wish, not what our mothers molded us to be for society.”
“Are you certain you don’t want to marry any of my brothers?” Eloise smiles, sliding closer. She rests her head on your shoulder. You kiss the crown of her head before resting your own head on hers. Eloise yawns as her words leave her, resembling a sleepy child as she says, “I do not wish for you to leave. My sisters don’t get me.”
“It’s okay. Sisters aren’t supposed to. It keeps things interesting that way,” You joke, earning a weak chuckle. Eloise does not say a word. She continues resting her head on your shoulder. A few minutes pass before Benedict pokes his head in, and you do your best to help get Eloise to bed. You both walk back to the main room together, where the party continues.
“Eloise seems to really like you,” Benedict says with a big grin. You furrow your eyebrows, looking at him.
“And just what exactly are you implying, Lord Bridgerton?” Your playful and straightened posture earns a laugh.
“Just that whether we become in-laws through our siblings or not, you, Miss Sharma, are always welcome back here. Especially for Pall-Mall,” Benedict says. His smile spreads across his face, even his eyes smiling.
“I will remember this invitation and hold you to it,” You tease, grinning as Benedict assures you his word is his bond. As you both walk, he cuts right at the dance floor. You cut left, following the outskirts of the dance floor. Edwina’s smile shines on the opposite side, the light of a young girl in her eyes. Reaching Edwina’s side, she clings to your arm with a giddy smile.
“Oh, sister! Lord Bridgerton and I have danced twice tonight. Twice!” Edwina exclaims, her smile shining up at you as she interlaces her fingers in yours. She gestures to the dance floor where Kate and Anthony dance. Your eyes stay on them as Edwina speaks, her words not fully registering as Anthony’s eyebrow furrow at something Kate says. Edwina gives your hand a light squeeze, “Oh, Didi, I’m certain he’d not have asked me for two if he did not have intentions for the evening. Kate should be giving her blessing as we speak. Oh, isn’t it all so exciting, sister? We shall both be wed before the season's end!”
“Yeah,” Chuckling softly, your eyes stay on Kate and Anthony. Anthony’s eyes widen before scanning around the room. His search halts as he captures your gaze. Edwina still speaks, oblivious to your lack of attention or how Kate looks between you and your staring partner. Anthony glances at the door and back at you; arching your brow, you turn to Edwina. Your pensive stare eludes her as she rambles with a large smile, painting the vision she sees of your future. Anthony politely bows to Kate before leaving the room as Kate joins you and Edwina. If she notices how your eyes follow Anthony out of the room, she does not give any inkling of it as she nods along to Edwina’s excitement. Your ears ring as the various colored gowns of the room muddle, and your vision splinters. You swallow dryly, the ringing in your ears growing louder. Pulling at the edge of your short-sleeved dress brings a faint cool to your flushed skin.
“Sister, are you alright?” Edwina’s voice snaps you back into the present, looking at her with a weak smile.
“Just a bit warm. I think I shall take a moment to get some air,” The words leave you quickly, almost incoherently. You do not look at Kate, her gaze burning a hole into the side of your head. The corridor outside of the ball greets you with low light and a cool breeze from the open back door. Anthony stands on the porch pacing back and forth. You look at him and then glance back at the doors that lead into the ball. You should go back inside, of this you are sure. Despite this, you take a few steps forward, your light efforts capturing his attention. You tilt your head toward the library doors before entering without a word. The room is far more lit than the hall, with many candles and closed windows drying your mouth. You eye the pitcher and cup on the desk, undoubtedly some form of alcohol—hopefully far stronger than wine.
Anthony slams the door behind him, his fists clenching as he paces. You roll your eyes, crossing your arms, your mocking tone filling the silence, “Please just share what I have done this time. The suspense is killing me.”
“When will you leave? Huh?” He asks, furrowing your eyebrows; he gives you no time to speak. A mirthless chuckle leaves his lips, “Oh, Miss Sharma, now you are one for silence?”
“What are you going on about?” You scoff, narrowing your eyes at his condescension.
“Your sister speaks of your plans to depart back to India, so when shall you leave?” Anthony grits his teeth, hissing his words as he steps closer to you. Your eyebrows quirk up, staring into his eyes, quickly identifying what lies across his face—utter betrayal. Anthony shakes his head, scoffing, “Of course, you grow silent when one desires you to speak. You live to get under my skin. I’m almost certain god has sent you to punish me.”
“Lord Bridgerton, I fear we have found ourselves in a conundrum that if it ever came to light, I fear my family would never forgive me. We mustn’t confuse our understanding and friendly nature for something entirely different. Yes, I can be infuriating and insolent, but it's a part of my charm, I think. We are just confused. A line is blurring between us,” A weak chuckle leaves your lips. How can one want to punch and kiss someone all at once? You shake your head as though to rid yourself of the thought and feeling. Internally scolding yourself for ignoring Kate’s warnings, you clear your throat, “You seek a wife of perfection, which my sister can provide. That is simply where we must stand.”
“I am a man of honor and of certainty. I have been certain of what I seek of what I want from start to finish in all things. Especially matters of my family, and yet—“ He pauses, inhaling sharply as he looks at you. The look in his eyes that was not there before that you have not seen before.
“Here, in your quick wit and inability to listen to reason, you challenge all I stand on—all my certainty. Your sister and I share understanding, but there is no shroud for what we share,” Anthony stands before you with a look of utter desperation, of devotion. His eyes reflect all you feel. The confusion, the frustration, the desire.
“Lord Bridgerton—” Straightening your posture, you clear your throat. It falls on deaf ears as Anthony steps closer, his hand ghosting over your cheek. The heat of his palm spreads across your face like wildfire that never quite touches. He speaks quietly as though coveting his words “(Y/n). Tell me you feel nothing. Tell me, your mind does not feel the temptation of this dalliance? Do you have no comprehension of how you plague me?”
Your voice sits in your throat. Every muscle in your body tense as though you await something cataclysmic. Neither of you takes your eyes off the other. His hand still cradles the air centimeters from your cheek. The crackling of the fireplace fills the silence.
It all implodes with the faintest tilt of your head into his palm. You both pull forward sharply. His hands cradle your face as your foreheads touch. You place a hand on his shoulder. The proximity dizzying. The feel of him all-consuming. You squeeze your eyes shut, the consequences be damned.
“This is wrong,” You whisper, gripping his shoulder and taking long deep breaths through your nose. His breath tickles your lips as the space between you further closes.
“Oh!” You flinch back, Daphne’s eyes looking from you to her brother. Her eyes are wide as Anthony steps toward her. She looks back at you, speaking softly as your glassy eyes stare back at her like a fearful child, “I’m sorry.”
Daphne leaves the room hastily, with Anthony chasing behind her. You walk to the desk, pouring a quick glass of the drink. The drink makes you grimace as you swallow it down in one go. You do not look up as the door opens again, crying out desperately, “I require something stronger, please!”
“Oh, Bon,” Kate says softly. You rest your hands flat on the desk letting your head hang as your tears fall beneath you. She pulls you into a tight hug, letting you sob into her shoulder. You refuse to share the source of your despair, your thoughts haunting you. Kate was right. Even William was aware, “Oh (Y/n).”
“Didi, it’s all wrong. It’s all wrong! ” You cry out, looking up at her. She cradles your face. All red and puffy.
“Bon, we will get through this, I promise you. Wipe your tears and show me the fearsome (Y/n) I know.” Kate says, kissing your forehead. She takes you up to bed, tucking you in, even brushing her fingers through your hair as you quietly cry with your back toward her. When Edwina stops in, she offers well wishes before bed. It only fuels the fire of your despair.
The following day, you rise early, bathing before hastily packing your things. You thank the heavens that Kate makes no mention of the night prior, nor does Daphne. Your goodbyes? Almost robotic as you anxiously await packing away into the carriage and leaving Aubrey Hall behind. Kate holds your hand, offering occasional light squeezes as the three of you stand by the carriage. Edwina glances at your interlaced hands and says nothing as she takes your free hand in her own, kissing the top of your hand.
The slight chill of the morning breeze does nothing to cool the warmth that holds you captive. Your palms are sweaty as your stomach wrestles itself. You look at Edwina on the brink of tears, her eyebrows furrowing at the sight.
“Sister, are you alright?” Edwina’s head tilts as she gently squeezes your hand. Your throat drying just before you can find your words.
“Um, I need to—“ You speak quietly, the calling of wait making you tense as you all turn toward the front door of Aubrey Hall. Anthony marches down the stairs with unwavering confidence, squeezing Kate’s hand tight; you swallow dryly.
“May I speak with you?” He says. You fail to notice how Edwina slips her hand out of yours as well as how Anthony's eyes do not meet your own. Your ears ring so loud you do not hear the words that leave Anthony’s lips, only registering the knee he takes as he holds a ring out to Edwina. Kate whispers in your ear, coaching you to keep it together as your nails dig into her palms. Edwina’s eyes are large and shining. She looks at you and Kate. The smokescreen of pending nuptials blinds her to the mournful look that holds your face. Your mother focuses too intently on Edwina and Anthony to notice but Lady Danbury? Lady Danbury eyes you with a knowing look, but still, she says nothing. As the seconds pass like hours, your expression sharpens as though the despair never existed. You look at Kate, offering a curt nod.
Tumblr media
“I do wonder about the trim. Is it too much?” Edwina asks, standing up on the podium as your mother beams up at her. You are certain the last you saw her so happy was when your father was still alive. Sitting by the window, you lazily peer out at nothing in particular. No one comments on your icy demeanor, but you know they have noticed it.
“Nothing is too much now that the Queen is hosting,” Your mother smiles, looking from Edwina to the Modiste. As your mother continues to look over different fabrics, Edwina may like the room grows silent in her absence. Kate steals glances at you as Edwina takes in the view of her gown.
“Did I mention we will be married by the archbishop himself?” Edwina says gleefully. Kate's smile does not reach her eyes as she nods and watches you. The bride-to-be glances over at you with a frown, “Sister, did something happen between you and the Duke? You’ve been unwell since the last night before we left Aubrey Hall.”
“We are fine,” Your flat tone barely audible as you continue eyeing the bustling road outside.
“Sister, you should accept his proposal. Then we would both have royal weddings, and you would be a royal! The Queen already adores you, and I’ve seen the way Lord Beauregard looks at you,” Edwina says, her smile large and tone encouraging. You purse your lips looking over at Kate. She holds your gaze before you turn back to the window. Edwina frowns, observing the brief moment, but she says nothing. Instead, she maintains her smile, “We must get you both dresses as well. Special ones. This wedding is as much both for your triumphs as it is for mine. Both of you clearly said something that swayed him to declare himself.”
“We cannot claim credit, Bon,” Kate says, chuckling slowly while shaking her head, but Edwina insists. You chew on your bottom lip, ignoring the burn of your throat, blinking continuously. Kate reminds Edwina that you both plan to leave after the wedding if you have not accepted William’s proposal.
Back at Lady Danbury’s, you hide away in your shared room, sitting by the window lazily drumming your fingers against your leg. You let out a frustrated huff, your sulking growing utterly dull. Biting the inside of your cheek, you glance at your room door, perhaps a venture outside. You stick your head out of the door, looking down both sides of the corridor before stepping lightly out. Where your mother is currently is not to your knowledge, but you know she will prevent wandering if she catches wind of it. You move carefully past the tearoom, freezing in your tracks.
“—nothing appropriate about what you’re doing proceeding with your engagement,” Kate seethes. Frowning, you press your ear to the door.
“On the contrary, I believe it is the most proper outcome for all,” Anthony says, rolling your eyes as you glare at the door as though he stands before you.
“Oh, and what of everything that has happened between you and my sister at Aubrey Hall?” Kate says. The silence tenses every muscle in your body as you await his answer.
“Nothing passed between Miss (Y/n) and I,” Anthony says cooly, a blatant lie. You bawl your fists. How dare he! Opening your eyes to something you could have easily continued oblivious to, only to shut you out completely. You march off to the stairs, stopping at the sight of your mother and sister at the bottom of them.
“Is that so? If I recall correctly, you appeared angrier than hornets at the prospect of her departure,” Kate says, “I can recall the way your eyes find her in every room. The way you look at her, far more than a prospective brother-in-law. If she accepts Lord Beauregard’s proposal, you will be bound to each other in a tortuous way forever. ”
“Would Miss (Y/n) and I being the ones to marry after all my public courting of Miss Edwina, be the outcome you desire?” Anthony asks. You greet them with a large smile stalling as you scratch the back of your neck.
“No, but I’m certain it’s yours,” Kate says. You make certain to enter the room first, giving Lord Bridgerton and Kate a moment to step away from each other. Anthony greets your sister and mother with a polite smile. It falters as he meets your gaze. You roll your eyes quickly, averting your gaze to your mother.
“I will return in seconds. You lot can begin without me,” You sputter, leaving the room before your mother can protest. She calls out to you, but you are already out of the door and halfway down the stairs. A pair of hands steadying you at your waist as you crash into a chest.
“Easy there. Are you always so spritely?” William chuckles, offering a warm grin as you recollect yourself. He frowns, taking a good look at you, “(Y/n) are you—?”
“If we were to wed, would you consider coming to India?” You ask. It’s selfish and wrong, complicating your situation even further if possible.
“I uh—well, I could, but once my grandfather leaves us, I will have to return. His responsibilities shall fall to me,” William says, his eyebrows furrowing as he looks at you, “(Y/n) I only want you to consider this if you truly see it in your future.”
“Let’s not fret over it now. Mother will wish to see you. Come,” You take his arm, pulling him along with you to the tearoom. Your mother and Edwina smile happily at William’s presence in the room. Anthony stares at the two of you, his eyes locked on your intertwined arms.
“Well, now that you are all here. I have news. Lord and Lady Sheffield sent word they are in London,” Lady Danbury says. You do not hide your grimace, looking up at Lady Danbury in pure disgust. Kate looks at your mother as Edwina smiles.
“Our grandparents?” Edwina says, looking at you. You look down at the door, counting each line you can see in the wood.
“Indeed. It seems they read the engagement announcement and wish to make your acquaintance and, uh, that of your future husband, of course,” Lady Danbury ignores the lack of reaction from all of you except Edwina. You scoff quietly, muttering to yourself, “Of course they do.”
“They are already in town?” Kate asks. William glances between you and your family, and so does Anthony. The best friends look at each other before Anthony addresses the elephant in the room. You glance at your mother, the way she controls her shallow breathing—looking around as though seeking an escape. Her mannerisms are familiar, too familiar.
Anthony escorts Edwina to the promenade as William escorts you. Your disposition even lower than before somehow. William stops in his tracks, crossing his arms. You stop not looking up, just waiting for him to rejoin you. When he does not, you look up with a frown.
“I’ve never seen you so, so gloomy. There must be some form of an insult or jest just charging up in there,” William smiles gently, watching as you shake your head, lowering your gaze. “Do you wish to talk about it?”
You sigh as the two of you walk again, nodding your head slowly, “My grandparents are just awful. Overcritical and impossible to please. I’m in no mood for them presently.”
“Well then, before the impending doom that comes from your grandparents' presence, perhaps you shall humor me?” William asks, standing on the ports and gesturing to the secured rowboat. “If I become insufferable, I will happily allow you to throw me overboard.”
“Promise?” You say quietly, fighting the grin that takes your lips as William smirks.
“You have my word,” He says, offering his hand out to her. She takes it, allowing him to help her into the board. He then gets in himself, untying the rope and pushing off the port. “In the colder season, this freezes over. It’s rather fun to step on the top of the ice and glide around. I tend to fall a lot doing it, but it’s all in good fun, I swear it.”
“Really?” The laugh that leaves your lips appears foreign, replacing your petulant stares. You look over the side of the water, picturing William struggling to stay atop the frozen terrain.
“Careful, you’re tilting the boat,” William says, raising an eyebrow. You smirk. Your eyes shine with a glint of mischief.
“What, like this?” You say, shifting your weight from one side to the other William gives grips the edge of the boat, giving you a hard stare. After a few seconds, it melts into a grin as he dips his hand in the water, splashing it up at you. You squeal, shielding your face as you splash water up at him. The two of you laugh like giddy children, gaining the attention of the many who walk around the promenade.
Kate chaperones Edwina and Anthony. They watch the two of you. Anthony’s gaze does not leave your form. Edwina’s words fall on deaf ears as he locks onto your laughter. Your younger sister gasping, pulls Anthony back into the present as the boat overturns, sending both you and William into the water. Both you and William resurface, laughing infectiously, not caring how everyone watches the two of you.
“You tipped the boat over, not me!” You exclaim, helping William push the boat toward the port.
“Says the one who insisted on rocking the boat,” William playfully scoffs as the two of you near the port flipping the boat right side up. You look up, grinning as Kate shakes her head at you, and Edwina happily points out your better mood.
“It seems you always know how to lift her spirits, Lord Beauregard,” Edwina says with a smile. William smiles at your sister, giving her a polite nod, his smile lessening as his gaze moves to Anthony.
“Miss Sharma, please allow me,” Anthony says, offering his hand out to you as he bends down. You stare at it, set on ignoring it, but Kate gives you a look as she gestures to the wandering eyes around you all. Accepting his hand begrudgingly, you quickly pull away from him, standing next to Kate. Your dress clings to you, dripping water down your entire body. William climbs onto the pier turning to fasten the boat back to the log, but Anthony’s already tying it tight.
“Fret not, friend. You always did struggle with tying knots,” The dig’s not lost on you nor Kate. You glare at Anthony, chewing on the inside of your cheek. Anthony and William stare at each other, the tension high as you look around, noticing the other onlookers growing. You narrow your eyes, stepping forward and pushing your palm against Anthony’s side. He stumbles forward into William, the two crashing into the lake.
Your jaw drops as they hurdle into the water, Edwina exclaiming your name as you fail to fight back your laughter. The water splashing up at the three of you, only fueling your amusement. Kate's eyes widen as her gaze bounces between you and the two lords in the water.
Anthony plants his hands flat on the pier glaring up at you as he lifts himself up first. His soaking-wet shirt now sheer, leaving nothing to the imagination. Kate nudges your side, reminding both you and Edwina of the inappropriate nature of staring. Even as the words leave her lips, the three of you shamelessly watch him. The show not ending as William pulls himself up. It’s wrong, oh so wrong, but every passing thought in your mind bubbles, leaving a warmth at your core.
“That was fun,” Smiling, you look between your sisters, who both shake their heads at you. Kate suggests it’s time to head back in worry of you getting sick. Your dress still drips water as you casually bounce on the balls of your feet. In the carriage, you sit next to Kate, resting your head on her shoulder while gently kicking Edwina’s feet.
“Bon, your hair is still wet,” Kate sighs, failing to shrug you off. Edwina giggles softly, moving her feet as you follow hers.
“Quite observant, Miss Sharma,” You chuckle, rubbing your hair against her side, earning a groan as she pushes you away. Edwina covers her soft chuckles with her hand as she watches the two of you. The carriage ride’s mostly quiet beyond a few snickers and Kate’s annoyance with your persistence.
Back at Lady Danbury’s, you openly gape at the sight of an indisputable fact—you are indeed your mothers' child. For hours your mother rushes around like a mad woman. She rushes about the house between making sure you all wear the perfect dress to the intricate styles of your hair and the jewelry you accessorize with. Not a single thing out of place, snarkily reminding you that today’s not the day for nonsense, as she calls it.
Kate offers you a weak smile as you roll your eyes grumbling beneath your breath. If either your mother or Kate dislikes the Sheffields more than you, they hide it well. The last time you can recall seeing them at the ripe age of five, you glared at them for the entirety of your visit. Their interest only stemming from the gossip about your exciting personality, to later deem you unruly. You never did understand why your mother even sent you there. The damage—irreversible.
“It’s just one dinner,” Kate says, fiddling gently with your hair smoothing out every little menial imperfection.
“Yes, one dinner of those people we have to call family scrutinizing every little detail about us. About mother. About you,” You take a deep breath, your expression hardening as you swallow dryly. Edwina enters the room doing a light twirl, her smile large. There’s a clear difference between who can remember meeting the Sheffields and who does not. Edwina’s smile falters at the sight of your pensive stare. She walks, placing her hands on your shoulders with an encouraging smile.
“There is still time to take a small nap if you need didi. I can distract Mama,” Edwina says, chuckling softly as you shake your head, leaning your head onto her hand.
“I appreciate it, bon, but I know a nap will do nothing but agitate me further,” You glance at the door watching your mother jet past. A chuckle leaves your lips, “And quite frankly, Mama as well.”
“Edwina dear, I need to speak with your sister alone,” Your mother enters the room, taking a deep breath as she softly pants. Edwina smiles, nodding her head and leaving the room without a further word. Lady Mary looks at you with her lips pursed.
“I know, Mother. I do not require further instructions for dinner tonight. Be punctual, proper, and pleasant,” You huff, crossing your arms. Lady Mary sighs, walking over. She takes your hands.
“Oh, my wildflower child, you are all those things. I’ve come not to lecture you but to check on you. I know you carry strong feelings about my parents, and if at any point this dinner is too much, you do not have to stay for the entirety of it,” She says softly. You know her words are untrue. To leave dinner so abruptly would only further their thoughts of you.
“Right, so they can nod their heads and look down on me as the defective one of their bloodline. I will not,” Your words are sharp and tense. You stand with perfect posture. Lady Mary shakes her head, but her protests mean nothing, do nothing. You stand, appearing the complete antithesis of the girl everyone knows. “If I could get through two weeks of your parents as a child, then I can get through one dinner. I no longer wish to continue discussing this topic, Mother.”
She takes a half step back from you, keeping your hands in hers. The glint in her eyes as familiar as the one all those years ago when you returned home, guilt. She does not say another word. Nodding her head, she kisses the tops of your hands softly before leaving the room. You fan yourself with your hands, the room uncomfortably hot. The faint tremble of your hands clear as you clasp them in front of you, taking a long deep breath.
After a few minutes, you leave the room in search of your sisters. Lady Danbury smiles, walking with her cane as she calls out to you. She compliments your appearance, the rich red gown complimenting your skin tone. Lady Danbury wears her knowing smirk with a present glint in her eyes, seemingly always present. The two of you enter the room together, clearly interrupting your sisters. Lady Danbury smiles as you appear ready to walk the plank.
“Our guests have arrived,” Lady Danbury announces with a large smile. Her eyes solely on Edwina, who giggles with a giddy smile, leaving the room hastily. Before either of you can follow, Lady Danbury's hand shoots out, halting you as she sidesteps Kate. Her smile falls as eyes look between the two of you.
“You may spare us the instruction, Lady Danbury. We know we are to be on our best behavior,” Kate says with a polite smile. You bite the inside of your cheek, staring off with a blank expression.
“You think me an unfeeling harridan,” She says to Kate before turning to look at you, “and you hide from me as though I see right through you. Well, ladies, I am hosting this dinner for both your sakes.”
“You know nothing of my relationship with those people,” You scoff, glaring up at her.
“And yet I do,” Lady Danbury says, her gaze softening just a tad. Mother told her. You look away from her crossing your arms as you shift on the balls of your feet. “Going forward, Edwina’s betrothal may be the end of certain hopes you’ve harbored regarding the Viscount but access to the Sheffield fortune.”
“I want nothing to do with those people or the Viscount. I will take a lifetime of struggle before I am under the Sheffields' control or ruin this for Edwina. You speak so far out of place,” You narrow your eyes at her, but she merely chuckles.
“Oh dear, you can do better than that. Dear, the life of independence you seek is close, Kate. And you (Y/n)? You have been presented with an opportunity of a lifetime. A marriage to a royal. Security for the rest of your life and full independence from your grandparents. I implore you both to think of the reward of the coming events. Think of your futures. Deny the feelings and passions as you please, but once it cools. You dear have an abundant future ahead of you, where you and your sisters are happy,” Lady Danbury stands in front of both of you. Nostalgia dances in her eyes as she smiles with a bittersweetness to her expression. You blink away the heat in your eyes, taking a deep breath to will away the bundle of nerves that dance in your stomach. When neither of you says a word, Lady Danbury smiles once more, “Come along, girls, it’s time for dinner.”
In the hallway, Edwina follows closely behind Lady Danbury. Her light pink dress sparkling in the warm candlelight. You walk with your arm folded into Kate’s, your jewel-tone gowns matching just as much as your forced polite smiles.
“Ah, Lord and Lady Sheffield, it has been too long,” Lady Danbury’s jubilant demeanor easing the suffocating tension. Not long enough, in any other circumstance, these words leave your lips, but now? Now you keep your head high and posture statue-like, “May I present Miss Sharma, Miss (Y/n), and Miss Edwina Sharma.”
You and Edwina stand before your grandparents with differing expressions as Lady and Lord Sheffield take you both in.
“Oh, my dears, look at the two of you. Aren’t they lovely?” Lady Sheffield gushes, looking between the two of you. You meet Lord Sheffield's gaze, both of you eyeing the other with similar scrutiny. Edwina voices pleasantries for the both of you. Their questions and invitations flowed quickly, evidently aimed at Edwina. They remember you just as vividly as you remember them. Still, you keep your head high, posture perfect, and expression neutral.
“Mother. Father,” Your mother greets them, leaving a chilling silence in her wake.
“I do enjoy the opera. My sister Kate is the one who introduced me to it,” Edwina says, maintaining her high spirits as she smiles over at Kate. Your jaw clenches at the forced smile Lady Sheffield sends Kate’s way, her disapproval coated in honey. Another painstakingly loud silence follows before Lady Danbury recommends they all head to the dinner table. Her diversion from the simmering tension was swift, temporarily successful.
You meet Anthony’s gaze, offering a mocking smile before following behind the others. His eyes follow you into the room, a soft sigh leaving his lips as you join Kate’s side. Edwina walks hand in hand with Lady Sheffield, who dotes upon her.
At the table, Kate sits to your right, with Lady Sheffield to your left. To your further misfortune, Anthony sits in front of you. You ignore the hole he stares into your head at the start of dinner.
“And, of course, you must be our guests at the Sheffield Manor. It is nothing compared to the estates at Aubrey Hall, to be sure, but I think it a most pretty part of Hertfordshire,” You stare at the place setting as though it’s the most incredible thing you have ever seen. Analyzing every minuscule detail of the fall colors as a better alternative to the active conversation. If you notice the glances from Kate and Anthony, you do not show it.
“Do you shoot? We a have a fine stock of birds, and you're always welcome,” Lord Sheffield says, his voice booming through the dining room. Anthony’s gaze flicks from you to your grandfather. He thanks Lord Sheffield for the invitation, expressing his enjoyment in shooting.
“Kate and (Y/n) do as well. (Y/n) is an excellent tracker, and Kate, a great shot. A most efficient duo. All three of them nearly bagged a stag on our trip to the country,” Edwina looks at you, smiling. You mirror her smile before lowering your gaze once more. The cold food and untouched table setting sit staring back at you. Lady Sheffield's mirthless chuckle fills your ears as she looks over at you. Her faux saccharine smile and words pointed, “How unusual. Do they teach young ladies to hunt and shoot in India?”
“Only the fortunate ones,” Kate mutters, snickering; you bite the inside of your cheek. It’s the first real smile on your lips all night. You catch your mothers' smirk at Kate, her gaze shifting to you. She wears a soft smile.
“Uh, Lord and Lady Sheffield, how long do you plan to stay in town?” Kate asks politely. You reach for your cup of wine, taking a long sip. Say in the morning, preferably in the hour.
“Oh, we shall stay for the wedding. And of course, for (Y/n)’s when she weds the Queen’s nephew,” Lady Sheffield speaks definitely with merriment to her tone. She speaks as though she’s boasting of something she’s accomplished as if she knows you—any of you truly.
“I have yet to decide if I will accept his proposal,” Your neutral facade wavers, your jaw clenching once more. The grip on your glass so tight that the brown of your knuckles shines white.
“Oh nonsense dear, you shall not let such a generous offer pass you,” Lady Sheffield chuckles as though she shares a beautiful joke. Only Lord Sheffield laughs. You take a deep breath covering your grimace with another long sip of wine. The bounce of your leg beneath the tablecloth gently rattles the glass atop the table. To your disdain, Lady Sheffield continues, “Imagine. The Queen herself overseeing my granddaughter's nuptials and welcoming my other granddaughter into her own family, with all things considered. Her majesty is kind to be so forgiving after everything that has happened.”
“Now, now. We are all family here,” Lord Sheffield says. You finish your wine, letting out a long shaky sigh. To your surprise, your grandfather tries and fails to deter his wife.
“An earl, no less than twelve thousand acres. Any other young lady would’ve fallen to her knees in gratitude that her parents were showing such care,” Lady Sheffield says. You glance at your mother, your patience thinning by the second. She shakes her head slightly. Lady Violet's attempts to switch the topic falls on ears, your deep breaths growing louder. Even Lady Danbury tries to engage Lady Sheffield in pleasant conversation, but it’s clear the elephant in the room will not be ignored. “And all for what? A mere clerk, was he? And with a child from a previous marriage to God-knows-who.”
“My mother has a name,” Kate maintains an even tone, her shoulders squaring as you now openly glare at your grandmother. The wine warms your skin, shoving you closer to your wit's end.
“We could not show our faces in society for years. Not that she should care. She simply sailed away from all of us with that man,” Lady Sheffields says, your fist hitting the table with a loud bang. Reveling in how she flinches, her eyes widen at your nerve. The room stills, all eyes on you.
“That man is my father, and you do well to speak of him with reverence. You cry about appearance in society when you ignore your beautiful family in favor of acrimonious feelings toward the glue that holds the three of us together. Kate may not share our mother, but she is the very best of us. So you will not sit here and speak ill of her before me,” You practically hiss your words as you stare at your grandmother. There’s so much more that you must say that you want to say, but as always, you are never truly heard.
“Dear, we do not aim to hurt you or your half-sister. It is your mother who sailed away with that man robbing us of our two grandchildren.” Lady Sheffield ignores your comment about your father, omitting him entirely. The tenderness in her words like poison in your ears.
“Three. Your three grandchildren. I have three daughters with whom you have had every opportunity to form a connection. Like a fool, I sent one of them in hopes of you all fostering a connection only for her to return, unlike herself. But at the end of it all, the choice to shun us was yours alone,” Your mother speaks with an impressive blend of being stern and soft-spoken. “And do not think I took it lightly being cast out by the only family I had ever known. I was heartbroken, indeed. But in time, I came to see that, in your cruelty, you did us all a great service.”
“Mother, you require no explanation for these people,” You say, earning a warm smile from your mother as she looks at you.
“I have always admired your warrior spirit, my sweet girl, but this is not your fight,” Lady Mary says. You nod your head swallowing thickly as Lord Sheffield tries to dissuade you all from continuing. Your mother stares at her own, “When you cast me out, you set me free. Free to raise my daughters far from your constant judgment and craven demands that they should chase wealth and titles above all else!”
You smile to yourself. Never had you seen your mother so defiant. Never had you felt so close to her, so like her. Lady Sheffield scoffs, “You are a fine one to talk. You turn your nose up at my parenting but look at your children. The child not of this family is a spinster who muddles the very integrity and reputation of your own daughters. (Y/n) shoots and speaks with volatility unbecoming of a young lady. It’s a miracle she has the prospect of securing English nobility? It is clear Edwina will succeed, and I will always question the very foundation of how with such influences.”
Unbecoming. Unfit. Unworthy.
The words ring loudly in your ears, inhaling sharply, the table squabble no longer reaches you. Your shoulders drop as your stomach turns. Lady Sheffield rehashing the terms of yours and Edwina’s trust fund barely reaching you. You swallow the burn in your throat, struggling to blink away the water that wells in your eyes. Gaze low; the high-pitched ringing in your ears—disorienting.
“That is enough!” Anthony’s voice rips you from your own head. He looks from your grandmother to meet your teary-eyed gaze. His own only softens for a second at the sight of you before turning back to your grandparents, his expression one of frustration, “I can only think you’ve been exiled from good society because of your deficient manners rather than any other sin. Since the moment you arrived, you have failed to show the proper respect for the Sharma family and I will not stand for it.”
“I declare—“ Lord Sheffield says.
“I will not stand for it. Lady Mary has done admirably in raising her daughters. They are intelligent, kind, and loyal women. A credit to both their parents. And since you clearly do not wish to jeopardize your social standing by associating with such company, I suggest you do not. You may leave at once!” Anthony declares, staring at him. Your head spins as it did that night in Aubrey Hall. The weight of your reality harrowing as you glance at Edwina. Anthony rises from his chair. Your grandmother voices her disbelief as he walks away from the table. Standing by the door, he calls out, “Please send for Lord and Lady Sheffield’s carriage. They can wait outside. And do not trouble yourself waiting for an invitation to the wedding, for you shall not receive one.”
Your mother’s the first to apologize, but Anthony sternly announces he and his mother will be departing immediately. The tension in the air far more thick than it began. Your mother and Kate run after Edwina leaving you and Lady Danbury alone. After a few seconds, you exit the room without a further word, ignoring her knowing stare. You do not realize where your feet carry you through the corridors until you see the back of Lady Violet and Anthony.
“Lord Bridgerton, a word,” You call out, narrowing your eyes as he disregards you, “I have spent this night being insulted and humiliated. All I’m asking for is a moment of your time.”
“I owe you nothing,” Anthony huffs, looking back at you. You tilt your head, not needing to say, but you do with actual words. He pauses, sighing before telling his mother he will meet her at their home. You walk him to one of the many side rooms, your words leaving you quickly as you assure him Edwina did not know.
“It is clear she was as much in the dark as I. I am not upset with your sister. Is there something further you wish to discuss?” Anthony speaks sternly, his hands behind his back as he glowers at you.
Your eyebrows furrow, his understanding words not matching his expression. You continue cautiously, “No, uh, I just wanted to thank you for what you did back in there.”
“That is of no import. I take it there’ll be no dowry. Now that the Sheffields have withdrawn their support,” He speaks mechanically, like a cog in the machine of English nobility. You open your mouth, but no words leave you, “I’ll take your silence as confirmation. Clearly, both Miss Edwina and I have been misled, and it is best to call off this doomed engagement.”
“Oh, now you suddenly lack the desire to wed my sister,” You scoff, shaking your head, narrowing your eyes at him, “I am many things, but a fool is not one. Something is happening between us, and you’re using this lapse as an out for the mess you put us in.”
“Says the one who weaponizes her disdain for marriage as a tool against her grandparents,” He counters his accusatory tone and steps forward, doing little to faze you.
“The resentment of my grandparents and my resulting outlook on marriage is of no consequence to our dilemma. You are to wed Edwina, and I am to return to India with Kate,” You watch as his jaw clenches at the mention of India. Rolling your eyes, you huff, “Why do you insist upon casting Edwina aside?”
“You are the very source of all my strenuous relationships. I jeopardize my longest and dearest friendship due to your very presence. Your sister, Kathani, battles me daily not against my union with Miss Edwina but how I look upon you. Now you wish me to bind myself to you for all eternity, doomed to never have you in the light to which I desire. I am a gentleman. My father raised me to act with honor, but that honor thins and weakens with every interaction we share. Vanquishing you from my mind proves to be futile, as you plague my being without endless.” You move away from pacing faintly as you shake your head. His eyes stay on you, longing—pleading for a response.
“No, Lord Bridgerton. I cannot—I will not take part in this dalliance any longer. You confuse your feelings. Edwina is who you seek,” You speak barely above a whisper, your voice catching in your throat as he steps closer again. His hand on your cheek.
“Yet you are who I found. You challenge my feelings, yet you make no objection to my close proximity. You told your sister you intend to bend my nerves till they break. Miss Sharma, they have broken. Give me your love, hate, disgust. I want it all as long as it comes from you, only from you. You are infectious and come without a cure,” He whispers, his lips ghosting over your own. Shamelessly allowing him to drink you in, and as fast as the moment comes, it goes. He pulls away, walking hastily to the door, his words low, “I must take my leave.”
You let out a breath you had not been aware of holding. Your hand comes to cover your lips as your tears flow. The door opens once more, but you do not look up, uncaring of who has found you.
“Oh, Bon,” Kate says at your side. She pulls you into her arms. She knows the looks, the pauses, the warnings—Kate’s known all along.
“Didi, I fear you have been right. The Viscount and I dance around feelings I cannot explain nor reveal to Bon. I have ruined everything. I will ruin everything.” Kate shushes you softly, cradling you in her arms like an injured animal. When she finally coaxes you to walk with her to your shared room, you cannot meet Edwina’s eye inside.
“Oh, Didi,” Edwina gasps, taking your hands as she leans down, attempting to meet your gaze. You squeeze your eyes shut, taking a deep breath in as you build your courage.
“Bon, I fear you will hate me, but you must know I carried no intention to keep this from you so—” Your voice wavers as you still fail to meet her eye. Once the words are out, you cannot hide them. Not from Edwina, not from yourself.
“Didi, I could never hate you. I understand your disdain against marriage now, and once I am married to the Viscount, there will be ample funds to provide for all of us,” Her words strike you quickly. You say her name softly, but she shakes her head, “I want nothing more than to be his wife. His Viscountess. But first, he must forgive us. Do you think he will?”
Kate glances at you, your teary-eyed expression hardening. Before your sister's eyes, you bury it. You bury it so deep that not even looking in the mirror will show you signs of it. You clear your throat nodding your head, “He will. I will make certain of it, Bon.”
You lay with Edwina in her bed, rubbing her scalp as you soothe her to bed. As sleep captures her, you look at Kate. Mouthing your words, ending the previous conversation for good.
“He must marry Edwina.”
Tumblr media
168 notes · View notes
Text
Wednesday x reader - chaos at heart
Tumblr media
hey can you make a fic where its parents weekend r meets the addams and wednesday meets r family but r has a little sister that like 5 or 4 so r acts really maternal and its just really new to everyone because r is also a mischievous chaotic little shit and lowkey a punk - Anon💜
Sitting in the table, you smirked to yourself as you waved lazily at the principal who frowned and waved for you to get down.
“Miss (L/N), off!” She called.
“Why? No other seats are available.” You shrugged.
Enid snickered from her place at her families table, she watched as Miss Weems sighed heavily and started to walk over.
Wednesday turned around to see what was going on and you laughed loudly, jumping from the table as the older woman tried to get you.
Many of the students and their families laughed, enjoying the drama that was happening before they went on to what they were doing.
After about ten minutes of running around after you Weems finally caught up and you grinned from ear to ear.
“Detention?” You asked.
“Yes, Monday after class come to my office.”
You shrugged and went back to your empty table.
Wednesday looked at you and frowned to herself, getting up as she walked over, sitting down in front of you.
“Hey.” You smiled.
“Hello, where are your parents?” She asked.
“They’re running late, why aren’t you with yours?”
“They make me want to gauge my eyes out.”
You laughed at Wednesday and shook your head, gesturing to the table where her family were sat chatting among themselves.
You caught her father looking over and he waved at you, so with a grin you waved and they all stood up, making their way over.
“Hi, I’m Pugsley. Are you a friend of my sisters?”
“Wednesday are we friends?” You asked.
“No.”
You beamed at her little brother.
“Yes.”
“How wonderful, I am Morticia, and this is my husband, Gomez.”
“(Y/N) (L/N), nice to meet you.” You grinned.
They happily sat and talked to you until your family finally arrived and they moved away.
You watched as you parents sat down and the little girl in your mothers arms jumped away from her and straight into yours.
“Hey Ella!” You smiled.
“I missed you!” She cried.
You laughed softly, carefully wrapping your arms around her as you kissed the top of her head.
“I missed you to kiddo.”
You talked with your family for some time until everyone finally started to wonder around and started to talk to each other.
While you parents went over to talk to Wednesday’s, having seen you with them before they arrived, you stayed with your little sister.
“What is everyone like? Are they cool?” She whispered.
“Some people are, some suck. But you wanna see something cool?” You asked.
Ella beamed brightly and nodded her head, grinning from ear to ear you sat her on the table and took a couple of steps back.
“You ready?”
She nodded excitedly.
Holding your hands out, you clasped them together, small sparks came from your palms and she giggled to herself.
Reaching your hands over, you let her open them to show a small flaming bird in your hands.
“It’s so pretty!” She giggled.
Smiling softly, you tossed your hands into the air, letting the small bird fly away before it vanished.
Ella giggled again and held out her arms to you, making grabby hands.
“Okay, let’s go then!”
Sweeping her up, you walked every which way she pointed.
“Hey look.” Enid pointed.
Wednesday, Ajax, Xavier, Eugene and Bianca all turned to face where you were walking around in different directions while Ella laughed and cheered.
They all watched for a few moments, just smiling while you ran around with your sister in your arms and helped her get some food.
“Wow, it’s like a whole different person.” Xavier mumbled.
“I didn’t think it was possible for her to be so mature.” Bianca hummed.
Everyone nodded in agreement.
You were so careful and gentle, you followed Ella around as she ran about and caught her just before she tripped over anything.
Ella ran over to them all and Enid laughed, kneeling down as she offered a wave.
“Hello!” Ella beamed.
“Hey, what’s your name?” Xavier asked.
“My sister says not to talk to dorks.”
With that Ella ran away and you spun around on your heel to follow her while they all stared in disbelief.
“Harsh.” Ajax chuckled.
“Just like her sister.” Wednesday said.
Over the weekend no one saw much of you, but when Monday came you were walking her out to the car and came across Wednesday and her family.
“Who’s that?” Ella asked.
“Well, it’s Wednesday and her family wanna say hi?”
Ella nodded her head and you walked over to introduce your sister.
“Yes, I met her the other day. She called us dorks.”
You snickered a little and shrugged.
“I raise her right.”
“Your hair is pretty!”
Wednesday turned to Ella.
“Uhm… thank you?”
Ella beamed and kissed your cheek as she wiggled from your arms and over to the car.
Smiling at Wednesday you spun around and went to say goodbye to your family.
The moment they were gone you stretched and Wednesday stood next to her mother as she watched you slowly grin from ear to ear.
“She’s back at it.” Wednesday sighed.
“What do you mean?” Morticia asked.
“She’s going to do something stupid.”
Wednesday watched as you ran away and rolled her eyes at you.
The moment your family was gone you went back to your old self, and she dreaded the thought the trail of chaos you’re about the leave behind.
The others were nearby and watched as you ran towards them.
“Someone stop her!” Xavier yelled.
They all chased after you as you laughed loudly, leaving a trial of small flames in your wake that they had to put out along the way.
You were already in trouble and they didn’t want to make it any worse, so they had to catch you before anything went wrong
379 notes · View notes
blackopals-world · 2 years
Note
Hi and happy fall :3
I read your fic about the dancer yuu and absolutely loved it! Could I request a yuu with an interest in poetry and baking with Azul, Jamil or Malleus? You could often find them singing to Frank Sinatra while making treats! Feel free to ignore and I hope you have a pleasant day 😁
~You guys are so sweet~
I don't know how to fit poetry and singing but I can see what I can do.
Three Times fem!Yuu was caught by surprise
Ramshackle does have a kitchen, its not big but it was cozy. Yuu had put a lot of love into keeping it stocked with flour and spices. Grim had his several bowls on the counter for his meal times, each with a different design. Grim was very spoiled because Yuu made his every meal and snack.
"My henchmen makes the best food ever! She even cooks better then Tray and Jamil!" Grim boasted as he ate his lunch especially made by Yuu.
His tuna sandwiches were cut in cute cat heads, with beautifully glazed mini croissants along with a fruit parfait. With it was a little note from Yuu.
"Be good. For gods sake be good. Love you!"-Yuu♡
Tumblr media
The word got around and many people wanted to try it. While Ace and Deuce could play the best friend card others had to take different routes.
○•Azul○°
Tumblr media
Azul wasn't able to ask Yuu directly but he wanted to eat at Ramshackle. Instead of being direct he asked the tweels to help him.
Jade and Floyd would remark on how morose Azul has been and how he has lost his taste for most sweets. Azul was hardly eating now.
Yuu of course was distressed to hear this.
"Poor Azul! Is it something to do with him being a mer?" Yuu asked innocentlyvwith her head tilted slightly like a puppy.
"Yes, he's withering away as we speak. At this rate we may have to return to sea for the sake of his health." Floyd said holding back a laugh.
Yuu bought it immediately because they know nothing about mer physiology.
Jade suggested that the best way to help Azul is trying someone else's cooking.
Yuu offered to invite the Octotrio to her home for dinner. She would prepare something great for them.
Yuu set to cooking as soon as she gathered ingredients.
Azul hated healthy food so no salad.
Wait a minute.
THAT'S PROBABLY WHY HE'S SICK!
"Those eels have probably been letting him eat whatever he wants and now he can't eat!" Yuu yelled as she started cutting chicken.
Almost immediately she switched up the menu. Ratatouille, baked marinated chicken, and for dessert as a treat, tiramisu.
Azul won't be enthusiastic, but he won't have a choice
The Octotrio arrived around 6 pm as Yuu was mixing the tiramisu. She was too distracted to hear Grim opening the front door and letting her guest in or hear the footsteps headed to the kitchen.
"Somewhere beyond the sea
Somewhere waitin' for me
My lover stands on golden sands
And watches the ships that go sailin'"
Yuu hummed as she poured the coffee mix over the final layer and grabbing a piping bag.
Azul wanted to originally greet her but after watching her focus on her cake, he didn't want to interrupt.
It was a cute song.
Somewhere beyond the sea
She's there watchin' for me
If I could fly like birds on high
Then straight to her arms, I'd go sailin'
Yuu frosted the cake as she sang. When she tuned to grab the cocoa powder she shrieked.
Azul looked like a dark shadow as he lingered in the doorway and had spooked her.
"Sorry! Sorry!" Azul held up his hands defensively as she screamed.
"DONT DO THAT!" Yuu yelled trying to calm down. "Azul, you could have just come in."
"I didn't want to interrupt you." Azul wanted to sound apologetic but couldn't manage it. Her face was a pretty shade of pink just like a shrimp with the size to match. Floyd was onto something.
Despite the food not being his usual fair Azul relented and found it being pretty good. Even if it was mostly veggies. When the coffee cake was served Azul finally got to eat something he really wanted. If he had to suffer eating nothing but greens again for Yuu's desserts he'd do it again.
Fortunately or unfortunately Yuu would be taking special interest in all of Azul's meals from now one.
You know what they say: "Men live longer when a woman is in charge."
《Jamil》
Tumblr media
Jamil didn't try anything underhanded to taste Yuu's cooking. He didn't even need to say much.
"I'm trying a few new recipes. Do you want to come to the Scarabia drom to help?" Jamil asked as they packed up their books after class.
"I'd love too!" Yuu smiled excitedly as she practically dragged Jamil off to the dorms.
Jamil was caught off guard but relented since he was used to this from Kalim. However holding Yuu's hand wasn't something he was used too. It felt warm like the sun on a breezy day.
Yuu immediately took over the Scarabia kitchen as they began prepping.
"Let's try making baklava or jam rolls." Yuu pulled out the mixing bowls as she watched Jamil sigh and grab the eggs from the fridge.
He wanted to be slightly annoyed by her but he found her excitement endearing. She really enjoyed cooking while Jamil thought it was just a chore, something he had to do.
The two carried on as Jamil focused on making dinner and Yuu on her desserts. Every so often their hands would brush against each other to grab something and breaking the bubble of their own worlds. It was harder to focuse but eventually they silently worked together.
Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away
If you can use some exotic booze
There's a bar in far Bombay
Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away…
Yuu sang under her breath as she rolled out dough. Jamil couldn't hear her at first bu his ears picked up a whisper.
Come fly with me, let's float down to Peru
In llama-land there's a one-man band
And he'll toot his flute for you
Come fly with me, let's take off in the blue
Okay now he could hear it over the sound of the samosas he was frying. When he looked up he could see Yuu very focused on her buns as her tongue poked out trying to get it just right.
Once I get you up there
Where the air is rarefied
We'll just glide
Starry-eyed
Once I get you up there
I'll be holding you so near
You may hear
Angels cheer, 'cause we're together
Yuu looked so cute as she cooked.
Jamil was so distracted that he didn't notice his samosa were starting to burn. He panicked when the smoke caused the fire alarm to go off and there was alot of yelling.
Yuu tripped and long story short a bowl of frosting landed on her head. It was a mess.
As mad a she was at first Yuu burst out laughing as Jamil frantic tried to stop the alarm.
" So the new recipe was harder then you thought?" Yuu laughed.
Jamil turned to see her on the ground in her own sorry state and couldn't help laughing himself.
"Speak for yourself. Those buns better be worth it." Jamil said taking a towel to wipe the fosting off Yuu's cheeks.
They were in the end but next time they would be more careful in the kitchen.
☆Malleus☆
Tumblr media
Yuu had been concerned for the welfare of the students of Diasomnia after seeing Lilia cook. Whe mix up sugar and salt and didn't preheat the oven. She started a crusade to help the poor souls who had to eat Lilia's food.
It stated with Yuu whining that she made too much pasta last night and it would go to waste but Ruggie was somehow summoned from the ether and happily took it off her hands. Yuu swore that last time Ruggie was at her dorm she had stuffed him like a pig and feed him until he begged her to stop. ( RIP Ruggie, Yuu's grandmother instincts are stronger then Trey's)
After that Yuu would invite Diasomnia members to dinner but the invites got lost or Grim burned them because he didn't want anymore guests.
Yuu's last plan was to leave baked goods in goodie bags around the dorm. Unfortunately cookies and cupcakes popping up at random doesn't make people want to eat them. Unless your one of the more unhinged students on campus. Ruggie, Ace, and Floyd began hunting down the treats. Which lead to a race among students to get as many as they can like a scavenger hunt. Rook took the hunt part too seriously and used the sweets as lures.
Malleus became aware of the the hunt when he found a bag of cookies inside a gargoyles mouth. It had a note inside.
Homemade cookies are sweet to eat
Fun to bake and good to eat
I hope these few will bring you cheer
To last long after they dissappear
Malleus was fascinated by what he believed to br a human tradition or part of a holiday. He began finding more of the goddie bags and collected each of the poems. He went as asking everyone in the dorm for their bags so he could collect them all.
He boasted about having the biggest collection as he talked about the cute drawings that were written on the papers that were clearly meant for him.
They say life is unfair and I know it's not true
Because I made cupcakes and they are just for you
His curiosity lead him to searching for the bandit that was leaving these treats everywhere.
One night he spotted a figure leaving a brightly colored bag in the mouth of a gargoyle.
"Excuse me?" Malleus called from behind.
The figure jumped in surprise as their basket dropped to the ground.
Malleus bent over to pick it up and tired to apologize to scarring them he looked up the recognized those eyes.
"Good Evening Miss Yuu. I didn't mean to scare you."
"OH, It's only you! I'm glad it wasn't a monster." Yuu sighed in relief.
"Is a monster after you?" Malleus asked concerned now "Perhaps you should walk with me in case it tries to grab you."
"Don't say stuff like that. What if something does show up?" Yuu said bitting her lower lip in worry.
Malleus didn't respond wondering if she forgot who she was talking to.
"What are you doing here. Did you perhaps wish to meet me here to walk it me instead of at your dorm?"
"Oh no, I was just putting more cookies out. I remembered that you always come to this spot during your club activities so I wanted to leave something here for you. Ace and the others keep finding all my other spots. Cater is making it worse because he keeps posting about what spots he's found." Yuu pouted as she slung her basket from her hand to the crook of her elbow.
Malleus was shocked but it melted into warmth as he realized what she was actually doing.
"So you wanted to give these to me?" Malleus asked fondly.
"Yeah, but every plan I make gets interrupted." Yuu said still pouting as she counted her remaining bags.
"Then why don't you just give them to me directly?" Malleus smiled teasingly taking the cookie bag from the gargoyles mouth.
Yuu opened her mouth to respond before immediately shutting it. Her face turned red as she realized how needlessly complicated she had made this.
Malleus laughed at his child of man who came up with the oddest little schemes. She was too cute.
Even the note she left was adorable.
Life is like a thorny rose
Not perfect but always beautiful
788 notes · View notes
havendance · 2 years
Text
Tim joins the family early/Jason Todd never dies fic
I figured since I’m coming up on nearly a year of reading far to much batman fanfic, I might as well share some it with the rest of y’all. Doing this by trope because I was in the mood a week ago when I was tracking all of these down. Anyway, if you got any favorites in this genre that aren’t on this list, add them on! I’m always looking for more good fic to read.
Latchkey by goldkirk
55k, complete. This fic is one of those fandom classics and one of those central touchpoints for the genre. I don’t know enough to say for certain but anecdotally, I’ve seen a lot of fics drawing on it’s combination of baby-stalker!Tim, Tim befriending the Waynes, and getting adopted.
5 Times Tim Spends the Night at Wayne Manor + 1 Time He Comes Home by motleyfam
50k, complete. What it says on the tin. If you like sickfic, this is the one for you. Tim manages to get himself sick and/or injured in just about every chapter of this baby.
Belonged Here All Along by Raberba girl
25k, wip but the main story’s complete. Tim bluffs/gaslights his way into getting the bats to adopt him.
birds fly in every direction by distracted_dragon
170k, wip. Plotwise, in broad strokes this was inspired by and is pretty similar to Latchkey. You’ve got your baby-stalker!Tim, Tim befriending the Waynes, and Tim getting adopted. It does put it’s own spin on everything though and is definitely worth checking out!
Brother Wanted by Vamillepudding
10k, complete. A 13 year-old Jason does his level best to adopted a 10 year-old Tim after Tim puts an ad in the paper for a big brother.
Like a Hinge, Like a Wing by Ultrageekatlarge
25k, wip. As of the time of the post, this fic is still updating on a regular basis so the stats will probably become outdated sooner rather than later. Anyway, Jason doesn’t die, but Tim’s parents do and the family member who gets custody of him afterwards is slowly murdering him so Tim goes to the bats for help.
In this Town We Call Home by Vamillepudding
20k, complete. You’ve got your standard mix of baby-stalker!Tim, Tim befriending the Waynes, and adoption now with the added spice that the Drakes used Batman as a boogeyman and now Tim is kind of scared of Batman. Robin’s fine though!
On the Way Home by ignesfatuis
130k, complete. This one’s a little different than the rest of the fics in this list in that rather than taking place in a vaguely canon-ish universe, it takes place in a AU where there are wolf-shifters. Tim gets kidnapped, stuck in his wolf form, and is eventually rescued by the bats (who are also wolf-shifters).
Runaway Robin by DangerBeckett
10k, complete. Robin!Jason keeps running into baby-stalker!Tim on the roofs of Gotham. Very funny.
The Power of Family and this Stalker I found by JackHawksmoor
25k, wip. Technically, Jason did die in this one, he just came back at the earliest possible opportunity. Anyway, we’ve got baby-stalker Tim, we’ve got a Tim & Jason friendship, we’ve got a Dick and Bruce who’re dancing around each other and majorly miscommunicating. In other words, we’ve got all the good stuff. 
These Were their Crimes by Moe64
55k, complete. Unlike most of the works on this list, I haven’t finished reading this one yet, but from what I’ve read so far, it’s good! Jason doesn’t die, but Tim’s parents still do and now Tim and Step wander around Gotham at night to fight crime (Tim doing more of like a stalker/detective thing). 
Tim Pennyworth by April_Ace
10k, wip. Tim becomes Alfred’s foster child during Jason’s robin career. While this fic hasn’t been updated in a couple years, what there is now stands on it’s own quite well.
two against the world by carolinaa
35k, complete. Tim adopts a dog while out being a baby-stalker. Things escalate from there.
Fics that don’t quite fit the brief but that I still really like:
If I’m being honest, what goes on the main list or not is based almost solely off of vibes. Take that as you will.
Fairy Godbrother by envysparkler
30k, complete. The Tim joining the family early component of this is mainly in chapter 2, and is part of a larger plot where just about all the robins join the family early due to meddling from another dimension.
Surveillance by smilebackwards
7k, complete. Jason doesn’t die, and at the time this fic starts, Tim is seventeen, running around as a teenage stalker, and picking fights with Lex Luthor until he ends up tangled up in the Batfamily. Not on the main list mainly because Tim is nearly an adult.
The Man and The Nothing by Souliebird
5k, complete. 10 year old tim is being haunted by… something, and is just not doing well in general, so he goes to Batman for help.
724 notes · View notes
allwaswell16 · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
One Direction fics that made me cry as requested in this ask. If these fics make you cry, don't say I didn't warn you and direct all crying to the comments for these amazing writers. lol. You can find my other fic recs here. Happy (??) reading!
LARRY
Light, Spark and Fire by green_feelings / @greenfeelings
(E, 239k, a/b/o) If he sustains that lifestyle by getting paid to help alphas through their rut every now and then, that’s nothing to be hung up on. Until he’s hired by an alpha that turns everything upside down.
And Then a Bit by @infinitelymint
(E, 158k, canon) Harry and Louis fake a relationship for publicity. Eventually it becomes a lot less fake and a lot more real
Wear It Like A Crown by @zarah5
(E, 141k, royal au) As part of a team of fixers hired to handle a gay scandal in Buckingham Palace, Louis expects Prince Harry to be a lot of things—most notably a royally spoilt brat. 
Love Is A Rebellious Bird by @100percentsassy, gloria_andrews / @gloriaandrews
(E, 134k, symphony au)  Louis is the concertmaster of the London Symphony Orchestra, Harry is the New! and Exciting! interim conductor/ex-cello prodigy who "has made Mozart cool again" according to Esquire Magazine (Louis hates him immediately, which is definitely why he internet stalked him in his dark bedroom late at night that one time), and Niall is the best. 
Saving Symphony Hall by @helloamhere
(E, 124k, a/b/o) “That’s the attitude,” said Louis, “I’ll tell you tomorrow. Tonight, I need to do some research. Zayn, give me your number. I’m gonna save our symphony.”
I'll Fly Away by @juliusschmidt
(E, 122k, small town) Harry and Louis grew up together in Lake County, Harry with his mom and stepdad in a tiny cottage on Edward’s Lake and Louis in his family’s farmhouse a few minutes down the road. But after high school, Louis stuck around and Harry did not
Nobody shines the way you do by wildestdreams / @butyouneverdo
(E, 115k, fake relationship) Louis pretends to be Harry’s boyfriend to help him win back his douchebag ex-boyfriend, but things don’t go according to plan.
 Emperor’s New Clothes by sunsetmog / @magicalrocketships
(E, 92k, exes) Harry’s a pop star and Louis isn’t, and there’s a non-disclosure agreement where there used to be a relationship.
 Nothing But You On My Mind by nonsensedarling / @absoloutenonsense​
(E, 83k, royal au) Louis Tomlinson is a PR manager hired to improve the image of royal bad-boy Prince Harry Styles. 
Feels Like Coming Home by phdmama / @phd-mama
(E, 60k, exes) The last thing Harry Styles expects when he's hanging out at the Someday Cafe in Somerville one rainy October day is for his ex, Louis Tomlinson to walk through the door, but that's exactly what happens.
i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart) by  thedeathchamber / @louehvolution
(E, 55k, secrets) Harry thinks he has good reasons for avoiding relationships. Meeting Louis puts those reasons to the test.
The Second Hand Unwinds by @kingsofeverything
(E, 51k, time travel) When things go wrong and he's sent further back in time than planned, he has no other option than to show up on his ex-boyfriend's doorstep.
 where the lights are beautiful by twoshipsdrifting / @polkadotlou
(E, 48k, a/b/o) the accidental bonding a/b/o fic.
take my hand (and my heart and soul) by bananasandboots / @anylessreal
(E, 45k, amnesia au) the one where Harry hasn't spoken to his best friend in sixteen months and can't remember why.
The End Should Be A Good One by bananasandboots / @anylessreal
(E, 43k, exes)  the one where Harry loses the love of his life on New Years Eve and finds him again, six months later, ready to open some poorly-stitched wounds.
You Might Want to Marry My Husband by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings
(NR, 24k, moving on) When Harry’s husband dies, he asks one thing of him; to find love and happiness again without him.
 With These Arms Folded by @taggiecb
(NR, 21k, famous/not famous) Harry Styles is living a peaceful existence in California as a very successful song writer. That is until he receives a curious email one sunny summer morning, and his life almost immediately gets turned upside down by a force that's bigger than any storm he's seen outside his window.
RARE PAIRS
I Had Rather Hear My Dog Bark At A Crow by sunsetmog / @magicalrocketships
(E, 122k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw) Nick and Louis don't like each other, not even a little bit, not even at all.
leave my life outside (or let me in) by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed
(M, 52k, Zayn/Liam) Zayn is a 111 year old demon who is trying to decide his future. Liam is a 17 year old human struggling with his own life
 Somebody Hurt You (I Know A Place) by @writcraft
(E, 20k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw) An unexpected encounter brings Nick and Louis together but before they can tell anyone about their relationship an attack on Louis tears them both apart. 
Miss Missing You by harriet_vane
(M, 16k, Liam/Louis) Louis wakes up after an accident with a year of memories gone and something not quite right about his relationship with Liam.
191 notes · View notes
Text
Sweet Spring Showers
Tumblr media
AN: This fic is for Beanie’s Double-Trouble Sleepover #rolling into spring writing challenge. I tried to make it dark, @springdandelixn by my characters refused. Enjoy the smut instead.
Beta’d by @lunarbuck
Dividers by @firefly-graphics and mood board and banner by me.
Master list
Tumblr media
Relationship: Queen’s Handmaiden Reader x Prince Loki
Word Count: 3.5k
CW: More fluff than was intended, flirting and banter, casual sex, smut (inc Oral - f receiving, Unprotected PinV sex, fast recovery) Loki has a ‘King/God’ kink, various mentions of norse mythology.
Tumblr media
You tripped down the palace steps into the garden, the soft fabric of your dress flowing behind you. It had been a busy morning, and you needed to take a break from your duties as one of the Queen’s maids. Spring was finally here, and the weather was now warm enough to go for walks without having to bundle up first. 
As somewhat of a free spirit, you resented the time it took in the Winter to get ready, impatient to just get on with what you wanted to do. Anything that interrupted your ideas and plans was met with a scornful look and mumbling under your breath, much to the disappointment of Queen Frigga, who still hoped you could be transformed into a proper lady. You were lucky that she liked you, or you’d have been kicked out of your position years ago.
You wound your way down the paths, entranced by the early blooming flowers, striving to cover the garden in a blanket of cover. Birds chirped, and you watched them fly to and fro with small twigs and clumps of moss as they set out to build their nests. The sun was high in the sky, and as you stepped under its rays, you felt them warm your skin. The sensation made you smile. Spring really was your favourite season, bringing with it the promise of renewal and new life.
You wandered further, away from the formal gardens and into the more natural area behind them. Thin dirt paths led in every direction, deep into the trees. You knew from experience that they led towards pergolas, follies, and love seats, places to rest and take in the beauty of nature. You decided to head towards your favourite of these places, which was also the most out of the way one. If anyone wanted to find you, to get you to carry out some tedious task, it would take them a while and give you more time to yourself.
Your movements were graceful as you half-walked, half-skipped down the track, skirts still billowing and fluttering in the breeze. You plucked the odd flower here and the odd flower there, placing them into your hair like a crown.
“Beautiful, as always, my dear.”
You let out a startled shriek and spun on your heel, only to find the grinning face and sparkling eyes of Prince Loki fixed on you. He walked out from between the trees with languid movements, a feline-like grace. It was one of the many ways he was different from his brother, Prince Thor. Light and dark. Broad and slim. Loud and quiet. Brash and considered.
You dropped into a deep curtsy, keeping your eyes trained on his black leather boots. 
“Your Highness.”
“Oh, get up, please. There’s just the two of us here, in the most informal setting ever.”
You looked up at him as you stood back up.
“Much better,” he purred. “If I ever desire you to kneel, dove, you’ll know about it.”
You raised your hand in front of your face and giggled at his implication.
“I have no doubt that you have any number of people ready to kneel for you, Highness.”
He raised his eyebrow and smirked before offering the crook of his arm towards you. You bobbed a small curtsy and, with a smile, looped your arm into his. You both started to stroll down the track, further into the woodland.
“The problem with that, dove, is that it’s boring. Where is the fun, the excitement, when everyone is willing to bend over backwards to do what you want?”
“Nice problem to have, though.” 
Loki chuckled.
“Are you telling me that you don’t have the same problem?”
It was your turn to smirk.
“Me? I’m just a maid, and you’re a prince. I won’t lie, I get my fair amount of attention, but probably nothing compared to you.”
“I fear my mother would have an aneurysm if she knew I was talking to one of her trusted servants about such improper things.”
“You’re beloved mother would roll her eyes and then quietly chastise me - I am known to be the least lady-like of her ladies.”
You let go of his arm and skipped in front of him, spinning around and throwing your arms up in the air.
“She despairs of me, but luckily, I’m her favourite. I just find it difficult to hold my tongue when someone says or does something stupid.”
Loki reached out and snagged your hand and lifted both your arms, twirling you under them.
“How could anyone tame such a nymph as you? I must say you look a lot happier out here than when I’ve seen you by my mother’s side.”
His smile was warm, and you blossomed under it like a flower beneath the sun. Most of the folk who approached you did so in hope of taking advantage of your influence with the Queen. Not that you had much - those people always imagined you had her right ear and were able to manipulate policies and treaties, which was ludicrous. The only thing you could sway was which dress and jewels she wore, and even then you’d say your success rate was less than 50%.
It was nice though, to have a conversation with someone who had no ulterior motive for being nice to you. It wasn’t as though you’d be able to help advance a member of the royal family. His tone was light and flirty, and he was exceedingly charming, and it was fun to have some harmless fun. It’s not like he was really interested. Probably just doing the same as you and escaping the stuffiness of both the palace and your individual roles.
Somehow, when you’d come back to his side, you’d ended up with his arm over your shoulder. You couldn’t say that you minded. It brought you closer to him, and you could smell the scent that was distinctly Loki; leather, sandalwood, and a perfumed musk. It was obvious that he cared for his appearance, but he didn’t primp or overdo it.
“So, is that what brings you out here, Nymph? My mother’s despair?”
“Oh no - not today, well at least not yet. I was going mad being trapped inside over Winter, so now that Spring is raising its head, I decided to venture forth and bask in her beauty.”
“Well that decision was fortuitous, as it allows me to bask in yours.”
With a giggle, you bumped your shoulder up against his side. He really was fun to be around.
“And, if I may ask, my Prince, why are you out here today?”
He squeezed your shoulder with his hand, and you were hyper-aware of the way his long, tapered fingers dug gently but firmly into your flesh. A rush of images raced through your mind, and you fought hard to squash them down.
“Anything is better than listening to my father try to teach my brother about affairs of state. While Thor is very skilled at a lot of things, diplomacy and negotiation are not his strong suites, but you didn’t hear that from me, Nymph.”
You smiled and mimed locking your lips with a key. When he smiled back and brushed your forehead with his lips, you almost expired.
“So where are we wandering too? I take it you had a destination in mind?”
Loki’s question drew you back from the meandering of your own mind.
“Oh? Yes. I quite like the little summer house that’s a bit further down the track. If the weather is inclement, it provides just the right amount of cover, but when it is nice and sunny, it provides useful shade.”
Just then, you shivered, bumps coming up on your bare arms. As you peered up through the canopy of branches above you, you saw that a rather large, grey cloud had come over.
“Oh dear. I think we might need that shelter. That’s the problem with Spring; the weather can turn so quickly.”
The moment the words left your mouth, a large raindrop landed on the end of your nose with a large ‘plop’. Then the floodgates opened. One moment it was dry, the next it felt as though someone was trying to dump a bucket of water over you. 
You screeched and with your hands over your head, ineffectually trying to keep your hair dry, you raced down the path, toward your destination. You heard Loki’s footsteps right behind you and the pair of you virtually tumbled through the wooden doors of the summer house, laughing heartily. However, you were now in the shade and with your clothes and skin sodden, you couldn’t repress your shiver of cold. You wrapped your arms around yourself in a desperate attempt to warm up, only to realise that your gauzy dress had turned almost entirely see-through due to the water. The fabric clung to your legs, hips and decolletage, highlighting your soft curves, as well as causing a chill to settle deep into your skin.
You realised that Loki was no longer laughing either, and you looked toward him, only to be trapped in the green of his eyes. They drew you in as they also devoured your form. You were aware of the drumming of the rain on the sloped wooden roof of your shelter. You were aware of the gentle ‘plop’ noise as water rolled off his leathers. You were aware of the delicate movement of his fingers as he took off his emerald cape. You were aware of the beating of your heart as he stepped even closer and threw the sumptuous fabric around your shoulders, drawing you nearer. You were aware of his soft breath as it warmed your chilled lips.
“You are cold, Nymph. Will you let me warm you?”
His voice permeated your senses as if you were in a dream; warm, soft, all-encompassing. There was a tension to the air, but one as delicate as a cobweb. One wrong move, and it would all collapse, leaving virtually nothing in its wake. You took a half step closer, barely a sliver of air separating you.
“Please…” Your whispered plea had barely left you when his lips descended to yours and his arms wrapped tightly around your middle. Your own fingers slid up to his wet hair, tangling in his ebony tresses as you opened yourself to him. He was full of passion, of a strength you’d never imagined, given his usual behaviour, but it was intoxicating, pulling you under his spell.
“Your Highness! Please!” 
You breathed your plea into his mouth, shamelessly rubbing yourself against the prominent bulge in his leather trousers. His hands slid down your back, over the swell of your buttocks, to grasp at your soft thighs, lifting you with his godly strength and taking a few strides to place you down on the small couch. 
He continued to kiss you while his clever fingers dealt with the clasps of your dress, peeling the damp fabric away from your skin and exposing it to the cool air. Your nipples immediately hardened at the sensation, and then you gasped as his hands moved to your breasts, and his thumbs skimmed over the stiffened peaks.
Your own questing fingers pulled ineffectually at his clothes, the leather failing to yield to you. You both heard and felt Loki chuckle, and with a flash of his green seidr, his clothes disappeared. He pulled his lips from yours, leaning back and baring his alabaster skin to your gaze before grinning and then latching back onto the soft flesh of your neck. You moaned at the pleasure and wiggled your lower half, assisting him in fully removing your clothes. The fabric landed on the wooden floor with a wet ‘splat’, but you were now too focused on other things to care. 
Like the warmth from Loki’s lips as they trailed down your next and across your collarbone. Like how one hand rested on your thigh,  and his fingers, despite their gentle grip, felt like a brand, marking you as his. Like how the other hand rested, oh so teasingly, on your mound, his index finger toying with the thatch of curls that grew there. Things like how the muscles of his back and chest felt under your eager fingers. He may have been the slimmer of the two brothers, but he was still made of solid muscle, firm and strong.
As Loki trailed his lips down your body, you moaned and squirmed, eager to feel him more intimately.
“Patience, my Nymph. I don’t want to heat you up too fast.”
Part of you wanted to scream at him, but part of you never wanted this to end. You weren’t stupid - this was only a tryst - a way to pass the time and work out frustrations, so you wanted to commit every second to memory.
Loki’s lips on your inner thigh, his nose grazing against your folds had your back arching, your hands firmly back in his hair now. He teased you for what felt like forever, his breath warming your core and promising so much. You threw your legs over his shoulders, trying to urge him to move forward and put you out of your misery.
“Who am I to you, dove?”
His question surprised you, and you lifted your head as he lifted his eyes, full of confusion.
“Your Highness?”
His fingers started to circle your opening with a feather-like touch, and you whined.
“It’s a simple question, my dear. Who am I to you?”
“You are my Prince, your Highness.”
His lips twitched up with a wry smile as his eyes sparkled like the most priceless emeralds.
“Just a prince? Could a man who was only a prince make your heart beat like the hooves of Sleipnir running along the Bifrost? Could a prince make your cunt weep as Freyja wept when she was left alone by Óðr for months on end?
Oh!
Realisation dawn in your lust-fogged mind.
“No, a Prince could not do that. Which means you are my King, Highness. My God.”
“Yes, Nymph. That I am. And I will show you a glimpse of Vahalla.”
He lowered his head again, fastening straight onto your clit, pulling it between his lips and suckling on it. The fingers that had been teasing your entrance slipped deftly inside you, and you keened. Not only was he pleasuring you with no ulterior motive, but he was actually pleasuring you, something that the majority of your previous lovers either weren’t good at, or didn’t care about. No wonder he was nicknamed ‘Silvertongue’.
Loki’s fingers and lips explored you, learning what made you tremble and what made you cry out under him, and when you unintentionally tugged at his hair, he went where you lead, taking you towards that high heady peak, where the oxygen was thin, causing you to go dizzy before you fell off the edge, your body wracked with ecstasy. You cried out his name, over and over, the only word your mind could remember.
“There you go, dove. That’s it. You came so beautifully for me.” 
A warmth spread through you at his praise, and you opened your arms, inviting him back into your embrace. You needed to feel him near you, feel his weight on you. You longed to envelop him with your body and return the pleasure he had gifted you. He smiled impishly and crawled up your body, trailing kissing up your heated skin, and when he reached your face, he recaptured your lips, letting you taste your own release. His cock nudged your thigh, and you shifted, wordlessly encouraging him to take what he wanted from you.
Without warning, Loki flipped the pair of you, and you found yourself straddling him as his back lay against the soft couch.
“Are you ready to please your king? Fuck yourself on my cock, and make us both feel good.”
Drawing your lower lip between your teeth, you nodded with faux shyness and looked down.
And got your first proper view of his cock.
For a moment you froze, partly from concern, but mostly from want. You wanted, no needed, him inside you. You could almost imagine the delicious stretch, the immense fullness, and your cunt wept more for him at just the thought.
Your hand wrapped around him, learning him as he’d learnt you. You felt every ridge, every vein, and teased his slit with your thumb. When he let out a hiss, you smirked, feeling pride in your chest at making him lose his composure, albeit briefly.
“Norns! You are testing my patience, Nymph. Don’t keep your king waiting…”
You smiled, as mischievous as he’d been only a few minutes previously.
“Good things come to those who wait, Your Highness.”
However, despite your words, you gave in to his entreaties. You rose up on your knees and with your hand, positioned him at your entrance. You teased both of you for a moment, swirling his broad head through your wetness before, spurred on by a brief growl, you slowly let yourself sink down.
The stretch was as good as you’d imagined, and you had to bounce slowly and gently to ease him inside of you. You did so with your head thrown back, your hands holding your own breasts while Loki’s hands gripped your waist, steadying you. When your inner thighs met his hips, you moaned at how deep he was inside you. You lowered a hand to rest on his firm chest, steadying yourself.
“You are definitely a God, Highness. No Prince, no mere mortal, could fill me like this.” His eyes flashed with triumphant amusement, pleasure at you indulging his whims.
Slowly, you rose up, letting him slide from the clutch of your cunt until only the tip remained, teasing your sensitive entrance, before sliding back down to feel him fully again. You repeated the movement, and while your intention was to make it last, the feeling was too intoxicating, and within moments you were riding him fast and hard.
Loki didn’t seem to mind though - if his expression was anything to go by when you glimpsed it from between your hooded eyelids, he was greatly enjoying your abandon. The hands on your waist tightened, and you hoped he would leave marks, so you would have a physical reminder of this encounter for even longer.
With each upwards movement of your body, his thick cock stroked over your walls, and with each counter-movement, his tip nudged over that spot inside you, and the neat thatch of hair at his base scratched wonderfully over your engorged clit. You could feel your orgasm approaching once more, and your movements became more frantic.
When Loki sat up, pulling you to him and burying his head in your chest to suckle on your breasts, you were done for. The pleasure barreled into you, knocking you back off that cliff edge, leaving you a trembling and mewling mess in his strong arms. The world tilted once again, and you felt the soft sofa fabric at your back before your entire focus became how Loki was now rutting into you with hard, feral strokes, chasing his own high. With a shout, he threw his head back, and you saw the veins in his neck pulse in time with his cock that was buried deep inside you.
For a moment, you had an unobstructed view of his torso, and you took the chance to memorise every part that you could see, before he dropped back down, smiling and panting, hips still flush to yours, prolonging the intimacy for as long as possible.
You wound your arms around his neck and smiled back. Coils of his damp hair slid over his shoulder, and a water droplet rolled down a strand to land on your collarbone with a soft ‘splat’. Loki looked at the small puddle on your skin as if becoming aware of both your soaked states for the first time.
“I should fix that.”
Another flash of green and you were both dry. Loki’s hair was now fluffed up around his shoulders. Turning your head towards the sodden pile that was your dress, you saw to your amazement that it was now perfectly dry and neatly folded. You looked back at the Prince and raised an eyebrow.
“Did you just dry us and our clothes off with your magic? Why didn’t you do that earlier?”
He grinned, his expression somewhat sheepish.
“Wouldn’t have been nearly romantic if I had, would it?”
You laughed, unintentionally clenching down on where he was still encompassed by your soft heat. In response, Loki moaned and gave a tentative thrust. 
“Again, Highness? Already?” You were both shocked and aroused by his quick recovery.
“Well, I am a God, Nymph.”
His lips captured yours once more as the spring rain continued to fall outside.
Tumblr media
Tag List: @jobean12-blog @tuiccim @yarnforbrains @sidepartskinnyjeans @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @talia-rumlow @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @writing-for-marvel @animnerd @strangeprincex @mochie85
114 notes · View notes
wooahaes · 5 months
Text
nature lover
Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: non-idol!haruto x gn!reader
genre: fluff established relationship au.
word count: 0.9k.
warnings: n/a
daisy's notes: they r so <3 i love writing silly lil fics like this so much
Tumblr media
As if to celebrate the season, one of your biology classes had the brilliant idea to bring everyone up to go on a nature walk through the fir trees. Luckily for you, this was the kind of thing you could enjoy. Other people, however… 
“Wait up.”
Sometimes you had to wonder how you ended up with a boyfriend like Haruto. He enjoyed nature enough, to be fair, but you knew that this class was just to fill a general education credit. The lecture part of this trip was over for now as your professor left you and your classmates to explore the immediate area a bit. While you’d been making observations, Haruto had been hanging close enough to you to hopefully keep you from wandering too far. All it took was one cool plant or an insect or a bird for you to get distracted sometimes (and Haruto knew: there was a reason why nature dates became rare when the two of you started dating, otherwise Haruto would hear more about what you were looking at than about you). 
So you drifted back, notebook in hand, as you waited for Haruto to catch up. The grass crunched underneath each of his steps, and soon enough he’d returned to your side, his hand resting between your shoulder blades. 
“Sorry,” he said softly. “Jeongwoo was asking me something.” 
You’d been trying to get your gloved fingers to pull a piece of bark off of a tree, the fabric catching too easily on the edge. “That’s okay,” you said. “You don’t have to stick by me the entire time—”
“I want to.” Haruto reached forward, bare fingers closing around the piece. With a firm enough tug, it broke off from the tree. “Is this enough?”
“Where are your gloves?” You looked up from the bark he was holding out to you, frowning.
Immediately, he looked away, shoving one of his hands back into his jacket pocket. “I dropped them, I think.” 
With a pout, you accepted the bark just to shove it into the plastic bag you had for collecting things. “Haruto…”
“I’m fine,” he said. “I’m not taking any notes, and it’s not too cold—”
Yet you let your bag fall off one shoulder, already unzipping it to root around inside. Eventually, you found what you were looking for, and pulled out the set of gloves you kept on hand specifically for Haruto. “There,” you said. “I don’t want you freezing out here.” 
He hid a smile as he pulled the gloves on, leaning forward to steal a quick kiss from you. “Thank you.”
You took his hand within your own, intertwining your fingers together as you guided him forward—swearing that you saw  few birds fly off in this direction. If you were lucky, you could maybe get a decent picture of one of them. Haruto quietly walked alongside you, hand holding yours as he lagged a step behind. Every time you looked at him, he seemed more interested in watching you and trying to find the birds you’d been telling him about.
“What?”
Haruto blinked. “Hm?”
“You’re staring.”
Immediately, he looked away, cheeks growing redder by the second. “I—” He cleared his throat. “You’re… cute when you’re like this.” 
It earned a soft chuckle from you. “Being a nerd?”
“When you’re excited about things,” he said.
“Until they distract me from you,” you sighed. “Hey, um…” You turned to face him, you hand pulling loose from his. “I’m really sorry for, uh, being this way. I mean… I haven’t really dated a lot of people before, but one of my exes told me I was way too intense about…” You paused, unsure of how to phrase it. So you gestured around you instead. “My love for this stuff.” 
Haruto frowned as he watched you. “You don’t have to apologize.” 
“No, I do,” you said, “because I really like you, and I really don’t want you to think that I don’t care about you. I like our dates even though we kinda had to move them inside permanently for a while. I like you. I just… I dunno—If I see something interesting enough, I can’t not get a closer look.”
“You’re passionate about it,” Haruto said, taking a step closer to you. He took your face in his hands. “And we’re working this out. The only reason I asked to stop doing things outside is so we could get to know each other better. And now… I’d like to go on picnics with you again.” 
Something about the soft tone of his voice made you nearly tear up. “I’m not too intense?”
“You’re cute,” he chuckled. “And I know you’re serious about me. Don’t apologize for being passionate about nature. It’s nice to see how much you care.” 
You smiled, and leaned in to steal a soft kiss from him while no one was around to notice. Yet the moment you heard the rustling of leaves, Haruto pulled away, looking up toward the trees.
“There!” He pointed out where a red bird had flown to another tree. He quickly took your hand, already guiding you. “I saw which way it went! We can still get a picture if we’re quiet—”
And, oh, how your heart swelled a little to know how much Haruto cared about you. You’d buy him whatever hot drink he wanted later, and thank him with another kiss, too. 
Tumblr media
taglist: @twancingyunhao
25 notes · View notes
vlion · 2 years
Note
please please write a jealous jake lockley fic where he’s either jealous of always being in the shadow while marc and steven get reader’s attention or maybe he’s jealous of someone from her work (sfw or nsfw if you want). TY IN ADVANCE!!
Damsel in Distress (Moon Knight Boys/Female Reader)
Tumblr media
Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this fic! I kinda tried to combine both of the things requested and I hope you like the direction I took! This was super fun to write as well as to dust off my smut writing skills! I could definitely see myself writing a part 2 to this so let me know if that's something y'all are interested in.
Link to AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39540033
Content Warnings/General Themes: ⚠ 18+ content: by reading this you affirm you are over the age of 18 years or over the age of maturity as stated in your regional or local guidelines. jealousy, unwanted advances, lots of swearing (mainly from Jake because he’s Jake), Marc/Steven/Jake all making appearances, established relationships, violence (pretty minor, only one instance), one mention of blood, allusions to prior sexual actvities, oh boy here comes the good stuff, semi-public sexual activities, museum sex, spit kink (like A LOT, I’m sorry), mouth spitting, handjob, oral (m recieving), face-fucking, hair-pulling, degradation (including use of demeaning terms), praise kink, facial, “Sir” kink, allusions to Dom/Sub relationship dynamic, mentions of choking, Jake having a filthy mouth (as he should).
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 4,071
“Absolutely not.” 
Your boyfriend’s voice drew your attention away from the mirror you had been anxiously eyeing yourself in. You had been getting ready for what felt like hours, doing everything you could to pass the time rather than anxiously pacing around your shared apartment. You had been invited to a fancy gala at the museum you and Steven worked at together, and much to his and Marcs’ dismay–apparently–you had chosen one of your more revealing cocktail dresses for the occasion. 
You turned to your boyfriend, with a mock frown on your face. “What, you don’t like it?” 
He rolled his eyes after not so subtly taking your form in. “Baby…I already have to stay on the back burner tonight…and now you’re going to be wearing that all night? Are you trying to kill me?”
“Maybe not kill you, just make you suffer internally for a bit,” you said, with a cheeky wink. “And I am definitely wearing this dress, no ifs, ands, or buts about it, Marc.” You had already been hyped up by your friends and coworkers to wear this particular outfit, as well as by yourself, and there was no way you were going to change because of how one of your boyfriends was feeling about it.
It wasn’t like Marc was dressed particularly conservative either–the way his tailored suit and perfectly styled hair looked together had you weak at the knees. You wished that you could take him as your plus one, but you and Steven had specifically been invited, and people would surely be raising some eyebrows if he suddenly started speaking with an American accent. Not to mention the completely different manner in which Marc carried himself, and the fact that he worked for a mummified bird for a living. That probably wouldn’t fly well around the historians and archeologists and whoever the hell else attended these types of things.
“You’re a little brat, you know that?” Marc said in response to you. He also took the opportunity to kiss you on the cheek and pull you in by the hips, which made you practically melt in place. 
“Yeah…but I’m your brat,” you practically whined out, trying to look as innocent as possible. You could tell Marc knew you were just fucking with him, but you had to admit it was fun to push his buttons every once in a while.
You could sense a shift within the man in front of you.
“Surely you mean our brat right, love?” he asked, nose crinkling as he enunciated each word with his distinct accent. 
You knew Steven was going to make an appearance sooner rather than later, as he could be a bit of a control freak when the two of you had a place to be. You honestly preferred it at times though, especially when compared to Marc’s tendency to spontaneously propose things for the two of you to do. You asked Marc on one of your heat-of-the-moment dates why he wasn’t a fan of making plans ahead of time, and he simply responded by telling you he had a lot he wanted to make up for in a relatively short amount of time, so he wanted to make the most of it. You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pain in your heart at his confession, knowing about his past and the very reason for Steven’s existence. From that moment on, the love you felt for Marc–and Steven–increased exponentially, and you vowed to love each of them for who they are–even if that involves having to rush out the door for one of the escapades Marc took you on. 
As if he could hear your thoughts, Steven glanced at his–or rather, Marc’s– watch, and reached for your hand. “I don’t mean to rush you, love, but we should really get going if we want to make it on time. Or, we could be fashionably late, but I don’t know if we are cool enough to pull that off.” 
You couldn't help but giggle at that. If there’s one thing you could count on with Steven, it’s him making light of what would have certainly been a source of anxiety for you. You dreaded going to these work events, having to get all dolled up just to meet a bunch of stuck-up rich people who you would forget about the moment you step out of the event. Your boss, Donna, wanted the two of you there to ‘represent the museum’–which basically meant to stand there and look pretty while the rich folk had the night to gawk at the various artifacts and collections that you and Steven had so tirelessly fussed over. But hey, at least you were getting paid for showing up to this thing. 
You had to nearly fight Donna to get her to allow Steven to venture out of the gift shop and work in other positions at the museum, which then resulted in the two of you rotating between working the shop as well as in the various exhibit halls. For some reason, Donna had taken a liking to you from the moment you first started working at the museum. Whether it was because you were generally pretty productive, or if she was simply happy to see more women working in this industry, you didn’t know, but you were certainly glad that you didn’t have her constantly breathing down your neck whenever something went wrong. You wished that you could say the same for Steven, but you liked to think that your presence did something to soften her up around him, especially when you were both on the same schedule. 
You pulled yourself back to reality and glanced at the time yourself, realizing that Steven was indeed right in hurrying you along. You looked back in the mirror one more time, swiping your chosen lipstick across your lips once more, and upon interlocking Steven’s outstretched hand with your own, the two of you were off.
~
You were about two hours into the event when you started to get…fussy. That was the best way you could describe how you were feeling after hours of mingling and chowing on whatever appetizers were floating around in the various exhibit halls. Thankfully, you and Steven technically didn’t have to work, but it certainly felt like you each had become some type of designated spokesperson for the museum with the interactions you were having with the guests. You had attended some of these events in the past, and you were required to wear your nametag for security and identification purposes, so it seemed that any time someone had a question about literally anything you and Steven were the ones to come to. You didn’t mind the various questions about the artifacts or historical figures represented in the exhibits, but you were getting seriously tired of telling one person after another where the nearest restroom was. 
You had taken a bit of a break from the event, finding an unoccupied table away from others where you could sit and eat some ‘real food’ that had been offered buffet-style in addition to the hors d'oeuvres going around. You could see Steven from where you were sitting, who upon glancing at the lack of vegan options, decided he would opt for a bite to eat later at the flat. He was currently telling an elderly couple about the history of gods know what. You couldn’t help but admire how passionate he was about the things he was interested in, and how he could articulate information in such a succinct manner. You found it to be incredibly attractive, especially when he was going down on–
“Hey there, gorgeous,” a voice said, drawing you out of your thoughts. You look up to see your coworker, J.B., with a cocky smirk on his face. 
You rolled your eyes and tried to visibly ignore him by angling yourself away from him, making it clear that you weren’t interested. Like, at all. J.B. had been nothing but a dick to both you and Steven the entire time you had collectively worked at the museum, and his crude remarks and tasteless flirtations were usually easy to brush off, especially after a long day at work. Now, however, you had zero tolerance for this kind of behavior.
But still, he somehow found a way to see through that. 
“C’mon sweetheart. You wanna get out of here? Or are you too busy gawking over that freak over there?” 
You immediately snapped your head back towards him. “Excuse me?! You, of all people, don’t get to call him that.” Upon seeing him roll his eyes, you continued on. “You wish you could ever mean as much to me as he does.” You knew you didn’t have to add the last part in order to get a rise out of him, but sometimes you just loved to see the world burn.
And make entitled pricks angry.
J.B. made a show of slapping the table in front of you out of anger at your statement, luckily not gaining the attention of anyone in your immediate area. You tried to glance around him to send Steven a look of ‘what-in-the-actual-hell-is-this-dude-doing-right-now,’ but he was too obscured by the stupidity that was unfolding in front of you. 
Speaking of just that, J.B. reached his hand out and gestured for yours, clearly desperate. “I’m not gonna ask again.” He said, and you almost humored him and leaned in his direction to give him a piece of your mind, but after hearing distinct footsteps coming your way from behind him, you refrained.
“That’s enough.” The voice from behind J.B sounded familiar to you yet also…off. He certainly sounded like Steven, and was presenting himself as such, but you couldn’t help but think that one of your other boyfriends may be making an appearance. Well, rather, faking a British accent and attempting to act like Steven–if you could call that an appearance. You’ve dealt with enough of their shenanigans in the past to know when something was up; and to also know that Steven is pretty much the complete opposite of the confrontational type, further leading you to believe that he wasn’t who you were seeing right now.
J.B. turned around–dramatically of course–giving Steven(?) a death stare. “Here comes the freak to save the day. I knew she was that patheti-” 
J.B. was promptly cut off by your boyfriend’s fist colliding with his face, as well as your shameless chuckle when J.B. looked between the two of you with wide eyes. “Donna’s gonna have a fucking field day with this, you’ll see,” he said, wiping some blood from his nostril.
It was you who spoke next. “Yeah, she would love to hear about how you tried to harass her star-worker. Oh, and that you made my boyfriend–who she already isn’t quite fond of–get into more trouble. Yeah, I’m sure that would go over well.” 
J.B. was once again taken aback, clearly frustrated but attempting to keep his rage at bay out of the fear of being put in his place again. He opened his mouth to say something, but upon making eye contact with you and the other man once more decided just to smack the table again and walk away. What a fucking man-baby.
You turned your attention to the man in front of you, whose hand came up to cradle your cheek. “You know, as much as I hate the trope of the guy swooping in and saving the damsel in distress, I have to say, I’m grateful that my boyfriend knows how to throw a punch.” 
The cocky smirk on your boyfriend's face completely gave him away, and you were soothed by the velvety voice that accompanied his relaxed demeanor. “Princesa, we both know that you would be the one rescuing me in that scenario, no?” A visibly exuberated Jake said, likely feeling the effects of adrenaline from the tussle he had gotten himself into. Well, actually, Steven into– technically. You’d seen each of the boys’ reactions after a fight before, and while Steven and Marc were able to keep the rush from the fight in their pants, Jake was…different. The first time you saw him get like this you were nearly scared of him, but more dumbfounded by how excited someone could get after literally fighting people only seconds ago. 
You smiled at his words, nodding your head to agree with him. He swiped his thumb over your lips, before looking around to judge if the other party-goers were winding down for the night or not. He didn’t particularly care how people would react to the two of you slipping out early or not, but he knew you certainly would; which is why he was pleased to see that no one seemed in dire need of hearing the history of whatever ancient civilization was of interest to them, or to know when dessert would be served.
“Let’s get out of here, eh? Mi amor?” He asked, a twinkle in his eyes. He reached his arm out for you to take, and he was quick to give you a kiss on the back of your hand and then tuck your arm into his elbow when you reached your hand out. Sure, Jake could be a bit unhinged at times, but at least he was a gentleman. Usually.
You glanced around to ensure no one was watching as the two of you made your way towards the exit, and you let out a squeak of surprise as you were pulled into a small room that you and Steven generally took inventory in. There were shelves full of museum merchandise, as well as a few seasonal posters and displays. 
“Jake, what the hell?” You asked, honestly just wanting to get back home to your comfy bed. 
“Sorry, cariño, I couldn’t help myself,” he said, his hands going straight to your curves. “From the moment I saw you in this dress and saw what that fucking cabrón was trying to do…I just…I wanted you so bad .” 
You chuckled at how possessive he was being. For such a big, bad mercenary, you would expect the man to have at least some restraint but alas, Jake was simply built different. 
“Aww, Jakey, don’t worry. The feeling is mutual,” you said, in a rather teasing manner. 
Jake rolled his eyes at the nickname. “Open your mouth,” he said, nearly out of the blue, looking at you through hooded eyes. 
You obeyed, not trying to dig yourself an even deeper hole. He made a show of reaching his hand up and pressing it against your throat, tilting your head back so he could angle himself above you. You closed your eyes, knowing what was to come, and nearly moaned when he spit into your mouth. 
He used his index finger to collect some of the spit that had hit your outer lip and cheek, and brought it back to your tongue. “Swallow” he commanded, a devious look in his eyes. You obeyed him again, clenching your thighs together as you swallowed nice and slowly, his hand still resting on your throat. 
“Good girl. Now get on your knees and show me what a good fucking slut you are for me, hmm?” He said, and if you weren’t already so willing to comply, his words alone would have made your knees weak anyways. 
You sunk down to your knees, making your dress ride up in the process. There was no way you were going to let it get ripped in this new position after seeing what it did to each of your boys, so you didn’t care to straighten it out or fix it. You looked up innocently at Jake, and you weren’t surprised that he was looking exactly where you had just been thinking of. You went to pull the material down out of the fear that he may make you cover up, but you stopped your actions when his hands gripped your shoulders. 
“Keep it like that, princesa. Reminds me how filthy you can be for me. For us .” He exaggerated the last word with a knowing smirk, recalling back to the occasions when he would watch in on the things you would do with the other two men he shared a body with. He mentally reminded himself to thank you for the floor length mirror you brought home to the flat one day, telling Steven that it was just for you to ‘give yourself a once-over before venturing out’, but that certainly didn’t explain why it had only ever rested against the wall directly next to the bed. 
“Take my cock out,” Jake said, and you felt your pussy clench at his words. You forgot how unfiltered he could be when he got like this–you loved it. 
“Yes Sir,” you replied, smirking as you used the title. Ever since you jokingly used the word to refer to him after a joyride in his limo one day, you had become aware of the effect it had on him. You used it a couple other times to tease him, all of which lead to some intense lovemaking (if you could even call it that after some of the sinful things you’ve let him do to you). 
You made quick work of removing his belt and unbuttoning his pants, slowly drawing the zipper down. Once the material was opened, and you had a clear view of his hard cock in his boxers, you took the liberty of lightly stroking your fingers up his easily distinguishable shaft. 
Jake inhaled sharply at that, and grabbed your wrist to stop your actions. “I gave you an order, baby. Now’s not the time to tease.” He released pressure on your wrist, tucking your hair that had fallen forward behind your ear before leaning down to it. “Do I need to remind you that we are still in public? Huh?” 
“No.” 
“No, what?” He asked, a shit eating grin forming on his lips.
“No, Sir,” you replied, looking up at him through your lashes. 
“Good girl,” he praised, loving the sound of the title on your lips. “Now make me cum like a good little whore.”
You clenched your thighs together at that, sure that you were soaking through your underwear at this point. The vulnerability and filthiness of it all should’ve turned you off, but the chokehold that Jake had on you–sometimes literally–was no doubt the cause of many feelings you had yet to fully dissect. But hey, ignorance is bliss.
Not wanting to stall any longer, for both his and your sake, you reached into his boxers and took his cock into your hands. You used your dominant hand to stroke up and down the shaft, using the pre-cum that had already begun collecting there as slick to aid your actions. Your other hand went to his full balls that were surely aching from the lack of contact.
Just as you found yourself getting into a good rhythm, you were shocked to feel Jake removing your non-dominant hand and angling it up towards his face. He leant down slightly, looking directly into your eyes, and then spit twice into your palm. “Use both hands up here, cariño,” he said, gesturing to his shaft. “I want to see how they look on my cock.” 
You obeyed, gliding the hand with his spit in it along the entire length before bringing both hands up to the shaft and jerking him off. Your hands could barely fit around the girth of his dick, adding to the sinfulness of it all. That, combined with the wet sounds that the action made, seemed to be only amplified by the fact that you were in a relatively confined room at your place of work. You tried to focus on pleasuring Jake with your hands, but you couldn’t think straight with the swollen tip of his cock barely an inch from your face. 
In other situations, you may have been a bit more hesitant about acting without permission, but you could tell that Jake was nearing his peak as you kept stroking. You knew how much he loved your mouth on him, so you closed the distance between your mouth and his cock, swirling your tongue around what you could fit in your mouth. You were immediately met with a moan from the man above you, who had to bite down on his knuckles to stifle any other noises. From the way he was breathing, you could tell he was definitely trying to hold back, both physically and vocally, so as not to reveal your location to the others outside the door. You were honestly beyond the point of caring, so you picked up the pace a bit, removing your tongue from the equation and settling to suck hard on his tip. 
That seemed to really do something to Jake, provoking him to reach up and grab your hair in his fists. 
“Fuck! Such a good girl for me,” he praised, allowing his hips to thrust in order to match your tempo. You could feel his balls hardening as they came in contact with your skin, and you knew he was close. 
“Does my pretty princess wanna make me cum? Hmm?” He asked. “Right here, while your coworkers are in the other room?” He added, raising his eyebrow at your eagerness.
You nodded as a response, removing one of your hands to play with his balls once again and to allow him deeper into your mouth. The combination of your willingness to take him, as well as his eager thrusts caused him to nearly hit the back of your throat. 
With a few more deep thrusts, Jake was removing his hands from your hair, and using them to angle your face towards him how he wanted. You removed your hands out of instinct, opting to place them on either side of his hips instead. 
“Stick out your tongue,” he demanded, furiously stroking his length in front of you. 
“I want your cum so bad, Jake” you said, before doing what he asked. 
At that, he leaned down one last time and spit in your mouth again and you smiled with your mouth open, knowing he couldn’t resist.
“Ready for it, baby?” He asked, bringing his cock back to your open mouth.
You nodded frantically, closing your eyes when you could tell he was about to orgasm. You felt his cum hit your tongue and lips, the warm liquid tasting salty and distinctly like Jake. You nearly came with him at the sensation, as well as when he cupped your chin with one of his large hands to admire his work. 
When he released you, you made a show of swallowing the liquid and licking off what didn’t make it inside with your tongue. You made eye contact with Jake while doing so, who you could tell was in a state of complete bliss. You leaned forward to lick up any of the cum left on his tip, then tucked him into his boxers and pants. He offered you a hand to help you stand up, letting you get used to being bipedal once more as he replaced his belt. 
“Maybe I should play the role of damsel in distress more often, huh?” You asked, giving Jake a quick kiss as he adjusted his clothes and hair. You figured you should probably do the same, hiking your skirt back down and running a hand through your own hair. 
“And maybe I should take you out of here and fuck you in the back of my limo to remind you who you belong to?” He responded, clearly still jazzed from everything that had gone on over the course of the night. 
“Jakey, you know me so well!” You took his hand in yours, linking arms and allowing him to guide you out of the room and building with a hand on the small of your back.
As the two of you walked out together, you could’ve sworn you saw J.B. staring at you with wide eyes before looking between you and the security camera terminal. 
Maybe you shouldn’t have insisted on them being installed in the storage room.
~
taglist: @verexi
709 notes · View notes
calmcoldevening · 4 months
Note
I need Eric fic where he stops reader from suicide.
Eric stops reader from the suicide
Tw: obsessive thoughts, thoughts of death, suicide attempt, self-harm, angst
Ps: english is not my native language, so sorry for misspells
Kitten, remember that suicide is not the best way out, you can always find another, safe way out. You need to contact specialists, they will help. If you need to talk to someone about your bad thoughts, my private messages are always open.
*Kiss and hug*
Tumblr media
You've been looking pretty lately.. strange. You used to be more cheerful and friendly, constantly telling something quickly or joyfully running around Eric, trying to get his attention. But that's not the case now. It's as if the once bright candle of life has gone out in your chest. And this candle smouldered and smouldered more and more before his eyes.
Eric watched you wither with severe pain. He tried to do something about it, give you gifts and cheer you up in every possible way. But you remained the same emotionless, empty. You could sit in a room for a long time and stare blankly at one point without blinking. You were clearly troubled by some thoughts. Eric often caught your gaze thoughtfully directed towards the window.
"Why don't people fly like birds?"
Eric has often noticed strange questions about you. All these words, behavior, pain in your previously warm gaze. His chest was bursting as he watched you die every day.
He tried to do something, but you didn't make contact. He wanted to take you to a specialist, but he didn't know how to gently push you to do it. The guy was afraid to break this fragile rod in your head, which has long been covered with cracks.
It was an ordinary evening, although you were especially quiet that day. Perhaps you had a special stress at school. Eric decided to leave you for a while, hoping to cheer you up if he buys you your favorite sweets and drinks.
The weather was cloudy and nasty. The sun had long since disappeared behind heavy black clouds. It was going to rain soon. The wind beat mercilessly on the half-open windows, the curtains fluttered violently under the cool gusts of air. Late autumn, cold season.
You felt a soothing coolness on your skin. It was a little comforting, but at the same time it instilled uncertainty. Your hands were shaking and your legs were getting wobbly with excitement. Did you want to...? Yes. Maybe. No, definitely definitely yes. You felt so bad, so hurt. It was all too much. It seemed that all the problems of the world fell on your young, fragile, unprepared shoulders at once. And it hit you so hard. Your heart was pounding in your chest. There seemed to be only one way out.
Eric is gone.
Has he decided to leave you? Your brain was no longer thinking soberly at all, generating the craziest thoughts and scenarios in your mind. It's been so hard lately, even though you've seen him watching. He was worried... Although, it's for the best. If he is not around now, it will be easier to do everything here and now.
You slowly went to the bathroom, extinguishing all the light in the room on the way and leaving only a blinking light bulb in the bathroom. Without thinking twice, you filled the tub with cold water.
And so your boyfriend's big shirt flies to the floor, leaving you in a dark T-shirt and thin black jeans. I didn't want to freeze completely, the chilling pain in my chest was already enough. You slowly stepped into the cold water. A burning cold instantly engulfed your body, sobering your thoughts and feelings. The heart accelerated its movement. You slowly sank down, gritting your teeth. The water seeped through your clothes, freezing your body. The damp cloth stuck uncomfortably to the skin. Your arms and legs were instantly covered with large goosebumps.
But there is no turning back.
You've been planning for too long, you've been patient for too long, you've been afraid for too long. Death beckoned to him in its soothing embrace.
You slowly picked up the knife you had prepared in advance with your trembling hand. A new, sharpened blade. Glancing down at your wrist, you nervously bit your lip. You had doubts, but the pain was worse. You dipped your hand into the water, hoping to reduce the coming pain. The blade pricked the skin unpleasantly. A moment later, an unpleasant, blood-curdling pain pierced your arm. It's like your hand was pierced by a sharp piece of ice. The blade entered the tender flesh unpleasantly. The water quickly began to turn a dark crimson color. Along with the vital fluid, the pain also went away.
Incision after incision, and now there is a painful ringing in my ears. You closed your eyes wearily, leaning your head back against the side of the bathroom.
But still, why is all this? Your head was throbbing painfully and your arm was numb, although you could still feel how fast the blood was leaving your body. Whether it was necessary... Maybe death is not the best option? Maybe you could find another way out, along with Eric. Eric would have helped. Eric... What will he think when he finds you like this? He'll probably be happy. At least now there won't be such a burden next to him that you have to take care of every now and then. You'll make his life easier by dying, won't you? But you would so like to see his face for the last time, to remember his smile and the warmth of his eyes.
Your vision blurred when you felt a hot pair of arms around you, gently wrapping around your weak body. Who would have thought that Death was so gentle. At least you'll be at peace now.
***
Eric carefully crossed the threshold of your apartment, not wanting to scare you. Quietly. The house was dark. Have you gone to bed yet? So why did you turn off the light? Eric remembered that you were afraid of the dark when he wasn't around.
The young man slowly took off his shoes when he heard a dull splash. His gaze immediately darted towards the bathroom, noticing the light burning in it.
"Fuck..."
The bag of sweets instantly fell out of his hands as Eric rushed towards the bathroom. His eyes widened in horror, and his chest was cramped with throbbing soreness. He could hear the heart in his ears. The guy instantly rushed to you, grabbing your pale body and pulling it out of the icy red water. The guy hugs you to him with trembling hands, desperately trying to keep you warm.
"Oh god.. No no no, baby.. please stay with me.."
His voice is trembling, and an unpleasant lump rises in his throat. Tears are blurring his vision. Eric reaches into the bathroom cabinets, pulling out some towels and wrapping them around your hand in the hope of stopping the blood. He can't look at that meat instead of your wrist. With trembling hands, he dials the ambulance number, mentally begging to come as soon as possible.
Eric is sitting in the living room, desperately clinging to your cold body and rocking you back and forth in his arms like a baby. His hot lips do not leave your face, kissing here and there. His whole world collapsed. The only sunshine that had been in his life was now slowly fading in his arms. The guy couldn't stop crying, hugging you as tightly as possible, hoping to give you his warmth.
"God, honey... Please wake up.. open those wonderful eyes for me.. I will never leave again, I promise, my rose. I'll be with you. Always.. just wake up, please."
His vision is blurry, it seems that his head was already starting to hurt. But he couldn't afford to sleep, not when your life was slowly trickling down his arms and soaking his clothes. The white towels turned red. It seemed like an eternity before the paramedics arrived. In fact, it was a miserable three minutes.
***
You woke up in the hospital. Your head was throbbing painfully, and you could hear some kind of machine chirping nearby. You slowly opened your eyes, your eyelids seemed leaden. The white light bit painfully into your tired eyes, and you squeezed your eyes shut.
"Honey.."
Eric's voice was weak and a little hoarse. Finally you opened your eyes, looking up at him. His hair was disheveled, and there were dark bruises under those delicate eyes. He hadn't slept well in a long time.
"How are you feeling, baby?"
You bit your lip nervously, feeling guilty for his condition. Your heart is painfully squeezed.
"..are you mad at me?"
"No! Of course no. Not at all. It's not your fault, my rose. I was inattentive," he moved towards you, hugging you with his strong arms. It was always so cozy and comfortable in his arms. You knew you were safe, "I'm sorry, my rose. I'm sorry I wasn't there. You suffered so much, but I didn't notice. But now everything will be okay, I promise you."
• From that day on, Eric became more attentive to you, in the next couple of weeks he will absolutely not leave you alone for a second. The guy will take care of you in every possible way and give you love.
• He will send you to a psychologist and pay for all the therapy sessions you need.
• As soon as your scars heal, he will gently kiss them, caressing your hands and body. He loves you so much. Eric will do his best to show you how important you are to him, how much he loves and adores you. You are the light of his life.
• He will draw flowers or stars on your scars. Maybe later, if you want and your skin heals completely, he will support your idea to make some kind of cute tattoo on this place.
26 notes · View notes
simiansmoke · 1 year
Text
Bees and Birds - 🐝🦜 [DK x Mario]
followed up from the fic Slow Burn, and the following 'follow up post' that bridges Slow Burn and Bees and Birds together.
There was some hesitance in their meeting. It's more than likely because of how awkward things became after DK basically trashed a bar mid drunken-make out. The bartender was a friend of a cousin of his, so he'd committed to helping them recover anything lost from his and Mario's rampage inside their establishment.
If it was up to DK, he would have opted out of ever seeing the plumber again inside the Jungle Kingdom, but Cranky needed some assistance with a pest problem. And for some reason, his Dad didn't want him going alone to eradicate it this time. Something about killer hornet stings being extra lethal to Kongs or whatever. He didn't get that part.
As he padded alongside Mario through the jungle, the silence between them stung worse than any hornet. Awkwardness at its finest.
"So..." Mario began, rubbing the back of his neck as if to mop up a line of sweat brought on by the humidity.
"...so." His voice was blunt, matter of fact, and not amused by the opening line that he refused to entertain himself.
It was a few extra miles down the trail of agonizing silence, shifting eyes and tight throats that DK almost welcomed the buzz from the hornet nest halfway up the banana tree.
"Dunno why Dad asked you to come along. A little old bee's nest is nothing for me." He grinned, happy to leave the stagnant conversation in favor of clambering up the side of the banana palm.
"DK - wait! Cranky said that..." But whatever Cranky had said to Mario, apparently he didn't get a chance to tell DK because the adamant Kong was set on knocking that nest into space with the speed he was at while racing up the trunk.
Once near the top of the fronds, DK paused to glance down at the plumber who'd set a helpless glance upon him. Yeah, stay that way - he thought, reaching up to give the nest a punch. It sailed away, sentenced to break into a few thousand honey-soaked pieces when the largest hornet he'd seen hovered up to his nose with an angry buzz.
"DK!" Mario had started his climb now, closing the distance between them quickly as the hornet buzzed around the Kong's head, readying its stinger.
"Bring it, Dagger-Butt!" DK growled, fully prepared to swat the bug away when Mario grabbed his foot and slammed him to the ground. A few dizzying moments later, he looked up to see the plumber sliding own the palm's trunk like a firefighter down a pole, sans the bee.
"What...?"
Once at the bottom with sand under his feet, Mario shot the prince a vicious gaze. "I dunno if your dad failed to mention this but ... you and practically every Kong on the island are allergic to those bees."
If he believed him, DK didn't show it. "Sure, and Koopas can fly-"
"...DK, plenty of them can."
"Shut up! I didn't mean THEM." His breathing rate had surged with the rage in his reply, but it was mostly for show...for who, he wasn't sure yet. It was important enough to him to keep his chest high. "Anyway, why not just tell me that to start with?" Well, what Dad should have told him, anyway.
"Would you have believed me?"
"Hell n-"
It's the sideways lean of the plumber forcing his shoulder into the trunk, arms crossed and brow raised in his direction that causes DK to relent with a huff. "OK, I see your point." And thanks to Mario, he didn't get the bee's...point that is.
Mario's eyes drifted around the canopy for a moment as if taking in the density of the patch of jungle they'd ended up in. It's the sort of seclusion he didn't see much of in a busy city. "So, you ready to talk about..." He paused, gaze shifting to assess his company's energy - which was nothing short of its usual chaos, maybe with a bit more stiffness mixed in. "...the other night-"
It takes DK a solid second or two to deeply inhale the honey-laced air to silence the instinct in him to insult Mario and run off as a long time solution to this sticky situation he'd caused. Instead, he turns around to face Mario-well...look down at him anyway. To steady himself he placed a giant palm against the tree trunk, directing it directly above Mario's hat. "What about it?" Try as he might, he couldn't completely chase the challenge out of his tone; it was his only defense.
In the shadow of DK's arm, Mario peeked around the fur up at the Kong. "Well, you left in sucha hurry, I was just wondering if everything was...all right with you?"
Leave it to Mario to tip toe around the elephant in the room. No, not even a room...a whole jar, and the plumber would still ignore it crammed in there like it was an ant in a whole ass jungle.
"Oh, is that all? For a second there, I thought you were gonna tell me what a freak you feel like for enjoying all of that." Yeah, that sounded about right...to him anyway. Wondering how far he'd missed the mark, DK leaned over to get a glimpse of Mario's expression hidden under his forearm's shade. Apparently not shady enough since the plumber's face looked like it had caught a case of instantaneous sunburn.
"Uh...Mario?"
When he noticed DK peeking in at him curiously, then having the nerve to smirk at his predicament, Mario attempted to cover a portion of his face with a gloved hand. Just cooling it down with his palm...which may have worked if his hands weren't hot and sweaty inside their prison too. "Mio dio! You don't have to put it like that."
Feeling like he now had the upper-hand in the shame train, DK kept the smirk on his face as he played a little game of leaning to either side of his arm that Mario tried to shift towards and hide. "Then I guess you wouldn't mind telling me..." Scooting his palm down to beside Mario's ear when he grew bored of the chase, DK leaned in enough to disturb the other's hair with his great breaths surging out. "...where should I put it?"
There was hardly a solution or quip Mario could give him, and the proximity of that stupid, smug, sore winner's face that DK was giving him drilled the fact in even more. He could punch him, but that seemed to him to be giving DK what he wanted...which was also a loss in the grand scheme of gaining the high ground. Besides, the urge to clock him in the jaw was accompanied with something else - little sparks that had caused that massive explosion back at the bar. They're tickling his stomach and maybe it's the humidity, but the combination makes his bones feel like lukewarm butter.
"Where should I put it~?" DK asked again, a little more smug with every moment of silence that stretched between them.
Closing the distance with a glove once he'd moved it off his face, the plumber placed the palm of his hand flat against the confused Kong's cheek. "Ok, ok..." His hand slid down to grasp DK's jaw and guide the infuriating idiot's face to the heat in his while his free hand grasped the end of a red tie for an idle play thing. Hovering close to the other's lips, Mario adds "-put it here, pal."
There was little time for him to sputter as the heat in Mario's face infected his at such a close proximity. Well...if that's where he was supposed to 'put it', then he would put it there. Bracing his enormous weight against his palm beside Mario's head, he crashed the molten surfaces of their faces together and rocked their lips into a rough battle.
The jungle was quiet with an occasional murmur of wind through the canopy fronds, so the heartbeat in their ears set the pace to where neither knew if the sound they heard was of their body, or the other's.
DK was definitely the lead though - the player 1 that decided when little breaks of shaky air inhalation were necessary, and even then they were accompanied with teeth clacking in an attempt to keep some sort of connection until they'd refilled their lungs.
Mario had almost wrapped the whole tie around his fist by the time DK reached around with his free hand to scoop up under the seat of Mario's pants and lift him up closer so neither had to strain so much and so Mario had room to grab fur, dig a knee into DK's chest, and shudder once separated from the furious throes of their lips' battle.
Both stared at one another, sharing only pants and desperate bids for air. Both with faces stained with the same crimson contagion. From somewhere off in the trees, the call of a bird brought the world back into focus.
"...you good?" Mario inquired finally, a hint of a smile worming its way between them.
"I'm-...whatever you are right now." DK answered, a low laugh escaping him. "But better."
64 notes · View notes
skylolacreativespace · 6 months
Text
What do you think you're doing?
A secrect life, tickle fic!
Shushhhhh this is a secret fic..like a secrect task...
lee!grian & lee!mumbo
This is an SFW tickle fic! If this isn't you're kinda cup of tea you can go over to what you was doing previously ☕
Welcome to secret life!
Mumbo has been giving a brand new task. He opened the book in the palm of his hands, the text in that very book was 'Your task is to tickleeeeeee Grian's tummy' and wings when he is off guard! Good luck!' sure! This is easy as pieeeeee.
Grian, is a very ticklish birdie. Mumbo has been around Grian long enough to know Grian's ticklish places. And, how to catch him off guard.
Mumbo ran around his side way lil house to look if it looked good and it did. In the distance Grian was doing a very....weird abstract staircase house? What do you think you're doing?! I mean, well. This server is all about secrets and strange tasks. So, Mumbo didn't even question it. And c'mon, it's Grian we're talking about.
As Mumbo's thoughts ended he arrived near Grian's "base" Grian was busy building stairs talking to his viewers looking up and down holding a block of berch in his right hand.
Mumbo stared at Grian playfully. Grian was Busy. Distracted. This was his moment to strike on the lil builder.
Mumbo crouched quietly and hid behind the staircase walking very slow pace. He held into a gasp because Grian vaguely looked over at Mumbo's direction while building. Thankfully, Grian turned away and didn't see anyone. Mumbo quietly sighed of much needed relief.
Mumbo crept more faster. And faster. And faster. Until he ran very silently towards Grian when Grian was about to place another berch wood. Mumbo pounced playfully onto Grian and Grian screamed like a child as he felt himself onto the ground.
Grian felt fingers all over his tummy, fast wiggling fingers like the speed of lighting he ever felt. Giggles flying out of his mouth every where. He doesn't know what's going on? What's happening?!
The fingers tapped, poked and squeezed Grian's tummy and Grian's little giggles turned into bubbly laughter. Grian kicked up and down and tried to get away from those devious fingers, no matter how hard he tried those lil fingers came back to his tummy.
Mumbo was having the time of his life! This went by so incredibly well. Grian does not know who's tickling him because of how low on guard he was. Grian's bubbly cheerful laugh was like music to Mumbo's ears! He could hear it all day.
While the red sweatered bird was giggling and laughing in Mumbo's hold. Mumbo picked up Grian's right wing. The moment a touch of contact on a right wing. Grian exploded with happy laughter.
"HAHAAHAAHAHAHAHA HOEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEYE ENEOEHEHAHAHAHAH!" Grian chirped and bounced up and down rolling left and right. His wings flapping playfully. Grian was living the ticklish attention as much as Mumbo on the giving end.
Mumbo noticed this and brought his left hand and scribbled it on the inside base of Grian's wings and Grian sweetly approved with light laughter.
"ehehehe hahae- ahahaha" Grian leaned upwards to the air and went back down again softly on the ground. He decided it was best to take the tickles. "Pftteheehahah"
Mumbo chuckled and crawled a little onto Grian's tummy keeping the tickling going on his wings. He blew a biiiig raspberry on top of Grian's sweater and Grian howled with laughter!
"HAHAHAHAHA NOHIAHAHAHA AWHG WHAHAHAHHAHA WHY THIHIHIS?!!" Grian's legs kicked aggressively on the ground trying NOT to lose his mind, even though he loved it. He tried to childishily grab who ever was tickling him and couldn't.
Grian's eyes widen in realisation, who ever this friend was is invisible. An invisible friend who knows all his tickle spots who can it possibly be- oh wait is it-
Just as Grian was going to find it who it was his thoughts ended. He came back to reality and giggled uncontroabbly. The fingers were scribbling on both his tummy and wings and all he can do was laugh.
"HAHAHA OKI! OKAY! I GIHIHIAHAHAHA I - GIHIHIVE UHUHUP!" Grian covered his mouth shyly, blushing with his left arm with a small childlike giggle.
Mumbo giggled to himself and rubbed Grian 's wings with a fond smile. Grian felt a calm sensation and curled into a ball and went to sleep. Mumbo picked him up and walked him over to the secrect keeper. Mumbo didn't want Grian to be left alone.
Mumbo arrived at the secrect keeper and heard tiny giggles from Grian, Mumbo laughed quietly. Aww, Grian was still feeling tickly.
Mumbo walked to the main platform and pressed 'successful!' And he earned 10+ hearts back up to 30.
"This...I don't regret doing this."
Mumbo smiled fondly. And looked down at Grian with a soft, caring smile.
22 notes · View notes