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leonw4nter · 2 months

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She Likes The Way It Feels When He’s Right There

ID!Leon x F!Reader

“Mom, for the last time, I don’t want to go on a date with him!” You emphasize for what seemed like the nth time that night. Inviting Hunnigan over for dinner with your mom causes regret to pool in the depths of your belly; she doesn’t need to be around to hear you and your mom argue over your love life. Work was already stressful and your mom is piling up on that tall tower of things that plague your mind. You keep your head hung low, gaze trained on a piece of quinoa on your plate with your fork poking at it as you feel your attention slipping away, making no effort to rein it back in if it means not hearing your mom ramble on about having kids and settling down with someone.

“Y/N? Y/N.” Your mom’s voice snaps you back to reality, bringing you back down to this godforsaken dinner. “Did you hear what I just said?”

You temporarily shut your eyes, fingers stiffly curling over your fork. Deep breaths, breathe in and out, don’t flip the table over like a crazy person.

“No, I didn’t. I was busy thinking about work,” you grumbled in a low voice.

“I was just saying that he makes a good amount of money, maybe a little more than you do. It’ll be greatly beneficial for you,” she urged you. You love your mom, you really do, but there's a time where she gets a little suffocating for you and still acts as if you’re 13, not 30.

“What are you suggesting, mom? My job is just fine and I don’t need a man to rely on for money or my future or anything at all!” You snap, forgetting that your friend is in the same room as you are right now. Hunnigan comfortingly places a hand at your back, causing you to jump a little bit before relaxing down and taking a forkful of your dinner even if your appetite is almost gone.

“Ma’am,” Hunnigan begins, placing her elbows on the table and interlocking her fingers together. “I think whoever Y/N should get with is entirely up to her– that is, if she wants someone in her life. You may be her mother but you don’t have control over how she lives and besides, she’s a grown woman.”

Your mom shuts up, her lips pressed into a thin, burgundy line. For the first time in what felt like forever, silence befalls over the three of you on the dining table. “I was her age once so I know what she’s going through. I’m just giving her suggestions on how to secure a stable future because that’s what I want for her–”

“Well, mom, surprise: I’m still not going to see him. I’m doing just fine and–”

“Y/N–”

“I’m seeing someone, okay? I have someone else!"

Those words shock everyone, including you, even if you’re quite literally the one who said that. Your mouth moved faster than your mind could move, spouting nonsense in desperation to cut this draining conversation. Hunnigan reaches over for a napkin, blotting her mouth and trying to keep her coughing subtle and quiet after choking on her white wine. Even while dabbing at her mouth and still making an active effort to keep her coughing at a minimum, her eyes are wide and bore right into you with heightened interest.

“Who are you seeing then?” Your mom breaks the silence.

“Leon,” you promptly answered. All of a sudden you’re self-conscious, worried that she’ll sense your fib and call you out. You want to smash that bottle of wine against your head and knock yourself unconscious and wistfully get sent into another existence, going missing until everyone forgets you ever existed. It’s too late to take that back now, you really had to name-drop instead of saying “someone from work”. This is going to be one hell of a dinner and even more one hell of a talk with Hunnigan.

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“Were you being for real?” Hunnigan asked. She has her arms crossed, red glasses placed on her head amongst ebony curls.

“No… we aren’t anything. Just friends,” you regretfully admitted. You rest your head against your desk, cheek in contact with the cold surface.

Hunnigan giggles, grabbing the empty office chair beside you and scoots closer. “Really. ‘Just friends’, my ass. I see the way you look at him– heart eyes and all.”

You close your eyes and groan even louder, burying your face in your hands as you recall that fuck-up from last night. She wasn’t wrong about the heart eyes; you’ve harbored feelings towards that man for years now but you were always too much of a chicken to confess your feelings. Besides, this guy probably has someone in his heart– this fact shouldn’t hurt but it kind of does but who are you to dictate who he should love?

“You’re being so helpful right now, Ingrid. Thanks a lot,” you croaked.

“Why’d you even say his name in the first place? Could’ve gone with Patrick, he and Leon are in the same department.”

Boom. Could’ve said I was seeing Patrick instead… why’d it have to be that man with his stupidly pretty blue eyes and stupidly perfect, pink lips and his stupidly smooth voice and his stupidly charming smile…

“Well– Leon and I are friends, of course he somehow popped up in my mind first! And last night was not one of my brightest moments, okay? People make mistakes!”

Ingrid laughed like it was the funniest joke she’s ever heard, leaning back into the chair and crossing her arms.

“It’s not like your mom’s going to be content with just hearing you date someone. She’s going to ask for proof and probably ask to see him, knowing her.”

“I know! I know, it’s just… imagine going up to Leon and just saying the stupidest thing ever–”

“What stupid thing are you going to say to me?” Leon suddenly chimes in. You shoot up, almost stumbling backwards in the sheer speed you just exhibited. His sudden intrusion causes explosions of pink to burst on your cheeks, eyes to be wide.

“You look like you just saw a ghost,” he chuckles. I wish I was a ghost right now. I need to be 6 feet below ground.

“You’ll be in charge of keeping Y/N company the entire afternoon, Kennedy. I’ve got papers at my desk,” Hunnigan explains with a sly smirk. “Catch you later.” Leon throws her a thumbs up and as he turns around, she shoots you a wink. I swear, Hunnigan, I’m so going to throw hands with you!

“Don’t you have work to do?” You ask Leon.

“Nope. Finished them all yesterday,” he replied.

“Briefings?”

“Just came out of the last one earlier.”

“Training the rookies?”

“They don’t have training today.”

“Missions?”

“Won’t be in one as far as I know.”

Fuck he’s going to be with me all day… but didn’t I secretly wish for this…?

“What’s up with all the questions?” Leon asks. “You’re being weird today but then again, it’s not like you’re never weird.”

“Oh shut up.” You exclaim. Despite his joke, you remembered that part of Leon’s job includes being able to read people in terms of their body language which means that he would pick up whenever you were nervous around him. This is not my day.

“Well you’re always busy. It’s just new to see you not doing something,” you retort. You try to adjust your body language, making sure you look a lot less secretive and tense than you were earlier.

“And you’re the one busier than me this time,” he observes, tilting his head to the papers stacked on your desk. “I can help out if you want. They’re just reports right?”

“Um, yeah. I could use the help. That one’s the finished pile, the one beside it is the one that needs checking.”

“On it, ma’am.”

Shit that was kinda hot.

He takes a pencil from your mug and sets it right in front of him before taking a portion of the unfinished stack and placing it on the empty desk beside yours. He distances himself from you, brows furrowed in focus. He gets up and takes off his navy blue blazer, draping it over the back of his chair. If you think that was hot, he also proceeds to roll the sleeves of his crisp, white button-up up until his elbows, veins deliciously adorning his arms. His arms are straining against the fabric, ripples of his muscle bulging beneath. Leon, I swear to God, I’m going to get nothing done if you do my paperwork looking like an absolute snack– no, a 5-star Michelin meal that I can never, ever afford.

“Sight-seeing, I see.”

His voice snaps you from your swirl of diabolical thoughts, grounding you again.

“I wasn’t.”

“Your eyes on my hands told me otherwise.”

“Fuck off! Just do the paperwork!”

He simply smirks and chuckles to himself before really starting on the paperwork, blue eyes focused on the dark ink on paper, occasionally marking things. Lord have mercy, please, I just want to get work done.

Taking a deep breath, you take your own stack of papers and start work; it would be hypocritical if you kept urging Leon to work but you were just busy shamelessly drinking in your friend’s arms. Right. We’re just friends.

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Since two people worked on the papers, you managed to get them done faster than you thought. After dropping them off at your boss’ desk, you head back to your cubicle to get your things ready before clocking out for the day. Leon had already finished getting his things together and changed into black bootcut jeans and a black leather jacket over his white long sleeves, black helmet on the nook of his arm since he rode his bike home.

“You wanna ride?” Leon asks, which causes you to raise your eyebrows and smirk. “On my bike, I meant. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Of course I know what you mean, dumbass. And as much as I want to, I brought my car to work so… I’ll pass for now. Thanks though.”

He nods, before setting his helmet aside, and helping you pack your things even if they aren’t much. “Thanks again.”

“No problem.”

You two walk out of the dark office and make your way out of the building, heading for the parking lot. Just before you get into your car, he speaks up.

“So… you know how Valentine’s Day is highly commercialized?” he begins.

“Mhm. What about it?” you asked.

“There’s this high-end restaurant downtown and they’ve got good food at the cost of a wallet-decimating bill. They’ve got a discount for couples who dine there and… I was wondering if you’d wanna come along with me as a fake date. It’ll be easy on the pocket with the discount they’re offering.”

Your eyes widen, warmth creeping up from your back and settle at the nape of your neck. It’s not like he’s even asking you out on an actual dinner date, the man just wants to have dinner that’s easy on the pockets… even if he’s out here riding on the latest model of a Ducati but he still asked you out, instead of other women in the agency– women who have fuller hips and better hair than you do. Women who you think have a better chance of catching his eye anyways.

“That sounds nice. Um, yeah sure. I’m free. I’m assuming that this is going to be on the 14th?”

“Yep. So uh… I guess that’s a date then?”

“Yeah.”

The air turned slightly awkward, you two just standing around awkwardly with gazes either downcast or focused on something else.

“I’ll- I’ll go now, Leon. Um, bye!” you say.

“Uh, bye. Get home safe and goodnight,” he responds.

With a small nod, you get in your car and start it. Buckling your seatbelt, you pull out of your parking spot and drive home. You noticed that Leon stayed behind, making sure he got to see you leave before you catch a quick glimpse of his bike’s lights from your rear-view mirror.

You still felt kind of awkward around Leon especially with last night’s mortifying cover story but luckily his chill demeanor made you feel less on the edge. You thought about all the times he made you feel flustered: when he switched places with you on the sidewalk so he’d be the one on the outer part instead; when he ran to a convenience store to get you pads and new underwear when you bled while at work; see him interacting with one of your coworker’s kids; when he pretended to be your boyfriend when several drunk guys were trying to hit on you at a bar; the endless pet names he’d give you. Sometimes it felt like flirting but you know that Leon likes to joke with anyone; maybe you’re just looking too much into things and this is just a manifestation of your growing feelings for him. It’s hard not to fall for your best friend when he’s more than just good looks and his stupid jokes and beneath those he’s a truly brave man– probably the bravest man you’ve ever met. He’s stupidly selfless; in most situations where you’d probably run away and save yourself, he’d stay behind to finish the job at the cost of his life. He’s still standing firm at the faces of mind-bending horrors, doing this because “if no one does then who will”, as he always said. He probably has someone to fight for that’s why he’s this dedicated, even if he was forced into this kind of work. With a sigh, you turn up the volume on your radio and force all your thoughts to the back of your head; you’ll bring them out again later when you get home, accompanied with a cold beer.

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“So let me get this straight: Leon asked you out for dinner?” Hunnigan’s voice comes out of your laptop.

“Yep.” you respond.

“And you two will go as a fake couple to be able to get that discount because the food is normally expensive.”

“Mhm.”

“Listen, girl. I’ve known Leon longer than you have and it’s not like he’ll just ask random women out to be his fake date.”

“He didn’t ask me to be his fake date, he just asked me to come along with him.”

“Think about it: he could’ve asked anyone. He could’ve asked me or Ashley or Shen Mei but he chose to ask you! This is something!”

“It’s nothing. Besides, I was the only one at the parking lot with him so he asked since I was the nearest.”

“Dude! He was free the whole day! He had plenty of time to look for anyone else but he chose you!”

“He wasn’t exactly free since I had him help me out with reports.”

Hunnigan lets out an exasperated sigh at the other end of the call, probably frustrated that your negative thinking is getting the best of you. The both of you stay silent for a bit, nursing your beer before taking a small sip.

“Well, regardless of whatever he thinks of me, I’m going to enjoy dinner. It wouldn’t hurt to think about it as a friendly get-together, y’know,” you speak up.

“It would hurt, Y/N. I know you; you’ll probably get home and blast your greatest heartbreak hits or something,” Hunnigan points out. You bite your lip, not even making an effort to tell her she’s wrong when she’s painfully right– you’d sulk and just berate yourself for being so pathetic with these feelings.

“You know, you should just ask Leon what you are to him. Tell him you’re not happy with all the meaningless flirting if he’s doing that with non-romantic intentions. I’m sure he’d just apologize and beat himself up over it.”

You stay silent for a little longer, thinking about Hunnigan’s words. You’re an agent, for God’s sakes– you‘re supposed to be comfortable with confronting people and you are… just not with Leon but why? What are you so afraid of? For Leon to be distant from you and your friendship fizzling out into nothing? Maybe. Just maybe.

“Yeah. You’re right. Thanks girl, that was really good advice.”

“Hey, no problem. You can always count on me with your boy problems.”

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Several days after that call, you managed to get out of work quite early. There wasn’t much to do since all papers that you and Leon did a few days ago were already good and there weren’t agents under your watch that were on overseas missions so you got off early. Since Leon offered to give you a ride to work on his bike, you didn’t bring your car along so you’ll commute going back home if you were to clock out earlier than him. You looked around for Leon, telling him that you were going to go home early to get yourself ready for the dinner “date” later this evening. You spotted him in the break room with a few other agents, chatting with Patrick.

“Leon, hey. I’ll be heading home now since I don’t have anything else to do. See you later.” You say with a small smile as you peeked around the door frame. Everyone turned from their conversations to look at you, then looked back at him.

“I can send you home, since I’m free too,” he offered. Though your gaze was on him, you could spot other agents with smirks on their faces.

“Yeah, Leon. We can take it from here, you can go out with Y/N. It’s Valentine’s Day too,” Shen Mei adds. She gives the agent beside her a small nudge with her elbow, shooting them a knowing look before shifting her eyes back to you.

“Are you okay with it, Y/N?” Leon asks. Though his voice sounds relaxed, you can see a hint of something that flashed in his eyes that you can’t quite put a finger on.

“Yeah. I’d like that,” you respond.

You swear you see Leon’s face light up when you say yes, instantly moving from where he was and going closer to you. “Let’s go.” he softly says. You don’t miss the ghost of his touch hovering over your waist, causing your heart to relentlessly pound against your ribcage. You bite back a small smile, chewing on the inside of your cheek and hoping that your cheeks don’t turn pink.

Now you two are in the parking lot, standing beside his bike. He hands you your own helmet while he wears his own, offering you his leather jacket, which you take anyways. Protection, he says.

“Hey, I think it’ll be a bit boring if you just head home so why don’t we do some things before dinner?” he suggested, putting his gloves on.

“What things?” You mused.

He averts his gaze for a little bit before continuing on, looking a little shy with his movements. “Maybe a visit to the park would be nice,” he offers in a small voice.

His sudden shyness makes you smile a little, a quiet giggling bubbles from your throat but you take his suggestion nevertheless.

“Sounds like a plan,” you say.

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The afternoon was fun; you two went to the park and took nice pictures of the view, though you noticed that Leon’s pictures were mainly of you but you didn’t mind it. You also suggested having ice cream and going to an empty playground, the sight of two adults on the swings and having the time of their lives both silly and wholesome. Of course, he sent you home safe and made sure to come back in 2 hours to pick you up for dinner. This time, he said that he’ll be using his car so that the wind won’t ruin your clothes. Immediately, you dashed to your room and picked out a dress and heels that you’ll wear for the dinner while also planning the make-up look you’re going for and figuring out what hairstyle you’ll be doing. An hour later, you shower and get dressed; the dress you chose hugged your body well, which made you feel a little more confident in yourself. You got your hair styled and your make-up done, opting to do it a little different than you usually do. After getting ready, you sent pictures of yourself to Hunnigan. In response, she sent so many voice messages of encouragement where she’s practically screaming. After a few minutes of waiting, Leon calls to let you know that he’s waiting outside.

You walk out and see him leaning on the hood of his car, an elegant arrangement of flowers on one hand.

“Hey,” you softly say. He turns around and faces you, taking a hand out of his trouser’s pocket. It’s as if his eyes have the moon and stars on them, his face lighting up when he sees you. He lets go of a breath he didn’t know he held, a subtle pinkness dusting his cheeks as he places a hand on your waist and leads you to the passenger side of the car. He walks over to his side and opens up the door, taking his time in staring at you for a little more.

“You’re gorgeous,” he mutters in a low voice that’s something else entirely, his words coming out with a slight rasp.

Now it’s your turn to feel flustered; why wear blusher on your cheeks when you have Leon to keep a blush on your cheeks all night long?

“Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself, you know.”

He turns his attention to the steering wheel before he remembers to give you the bouquet, that dorky smile of his completing his look.

“Here, got you these. Just because this isn’t an actual date doesn’t mean I won’t put effort into it.”

Here we go again with another game of “is he into me or am I just looking into things too much?”.

“Thanks. These look really pretty,” you observe. You noticed that the flowers didn’t make you sneeze or cause your face to itch, much to your surprise.

“I remembered how you have allergies to flowers so I got ones that didn’t trigger an allergic reaction so I’m glad that turned out well.”

Oh. Oh.

Oh boy were you in deep. Leon Scott Kennedy, he’s really more than just a pretty face and dad jokes. He even remembers the little things. Gosh, I’m in deep.

“That’s… that’s really thoughtful of you, I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. So… shall we?”

“We shall.”

He starts the car and drives you two to the restaurant he talked about. During the entire ride, you noticed how his eyes wouldn’t stop flitting from the road and to you. You joked about keeping his eyes in front of him and how they can take their time admiring you during red lights or when you finally get to the dinner. You two sat in comfortable silence, sweet music coming from the radio filling in for the stillness inside the car. He stops at a red light, fingers drumming on the sleek leather of the steering wheel.

“Can I be honest with you, Y/N?” he suddenly asks.

You nod, turning your head to face him. “What is it?”

“I don’t want this to be a dinner between coworkers or friends.”

His words yank the breath from your chest, the inside of your mouth feeling a little parched. You can hear the thundering of your heart in your ears, drowning out the song on the radio.

“Huh?”

“Does this seem fake to you?”

“Yes– well, no– I mean–”

“I’m going to say it now while we’re not there yet: all this isn’t just for a discount.”

You go silent, thoughts disappearing and trying to piece things together. What does he mean by “does this seem fake” and “all this isn’t just for a discount”?

“What are you trying to tell me, Leon?”

“I heard you and Hunnigan days ago. You like me. I overheard you talking to her about your mom wanting you to see someone and then you blurting out that you were seeing me as a way to escape being set-up with some dude.”

Shit! He heard! I’m going to dive head-first into a cement-mixer right now. Argrhaghrag–

“I knew and heard that, that’s why I didn’t press any further.”

Didn’t press any further? Didn’t press with– Oh. He didn’t press any further when he suddenly piped in with his “what stupid thing are you going to tell me?” question because he already heard all the context he needed. He was just polite by not telling me he heard Every. Single. Thing.

“Listen, Leon. I’m so sorry– I was not thinking when I suddenly blurted that, I hope you don’t feel harassed or anything–”

“I like you, Y/N. That’s why I asked you, you specifically. I could’ve gone to dinner with anyone else but I didn’t.”

He runs a hand through brown locks, soft strands sifted through slender fingers.

“I asked you to dinner under the guise of wanting to take advantage of this day’s commercialization but I lied. There isn’t even a discount, actually. I just want dinner with you. The food really is great but I don’t think it’ll taste as great as eating it with someone I love.”

And to think that you didn’t expect him to ever like you.

“I don’t just want us to be friends, Y/N. Unless you think otherwise, then I’ll respect it.”

You two just sit there in total silence, some 80s romantic song serving as background music for whatever magical moment is happening right now. Leon looks a little more anxious now, sapphires shifting between your eyes and lips.

“I feel the same way too, Leon, and I don’t just want this to be a fake dinner– not ever. I just didn’t think that you’d actually get feelings for me when there’s all those other women in the office,” you shyly admit.

“I’m in love with you and you only, Y/N. They’re not you.”

Those words set off a reaction similar to a factory reset in your mind and suddenly, you don’t have a single thought and you’re not thinking before moving. You lean in from the passenger seat and with a silent prayer that his windows are tinted (highly likely they are), your hand finds its way into his blazer. You bunch the fabric up and draw him in for a kiss, shutting your eyes. You feel him tense up a little bit before he relaxes into your touch, a calloused hand reaching to cup your cheek. The soft smack of lips can be heard inside the car before you pull away, half-lidded eyes staring straight into inky pupils that swallowed all the blue in his eyes. Your gaze is downcast, admiring the glossy smear of your pink lip gloss on his lips.

“I bet I look real good with your kiss,” he rasps with a small smirk.

“I bet you’ll look better without these later,” you hinted while eyeing his suit, giving him a wink.

“Oh?”

This was not how you thought your dinner night would play out but you didn’t mind.

NOTE - Finally done with 3/4 Valentine's fics!!! Personally, I don't think anyone's getting me anything for Valentine's Day but a girlie can continue to dream :') I finally got to see my grades and I'm really happy with how it turned out-- all my grades (except for one subject-- WHICH IS NOT MATH surprisingly) went up by several percent so I hope I get to do the same thing this quarter!!!! Anyways, that's it and thank you for reading this fic!!!!! I <;333333 U

The dividers are made by @cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

#leon kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy x y/n #fluff #leon kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy fluff #biohazard #resident evil x reader #rebhfun #infinite darkness #resident evil leon #resident evil: infinite darkness

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marvelsmylife · 2 months

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I think I wanna marry you

Pairing: Rhysand x reader

Plot: Though they had a mating ceremony, Rhysand plans to propose to his lovely mate with the the help from the inner circle.

A/n This is based off of this request. It’s a fun little Rhysand story to make up for all the angst I've been posting lately.

Rhysand always presented himself as a cool, laid-back male, and he was, but that demeanor disappears whenever you’re around him. He frequently thanked the Cauldron that he was gifted you as his mate. Your fun and carefree personality balanced him perfectly, and he knew he would be lost if you weren’t in his life.

One thing he only regretted in his life was the fact that he didn’t give you a big mating ceremony.

Knowing they would be at war with Hybern, Rhysand suggested you have a small mating ceremony with just the two of you and a Priestess.

After the war though, he couldn’t help but feel guilty that you didn’t get the celebration you deserved. He knew you’ve always dreamed of having a big mating ceremony with all your friends, and he felt like he robbed you of that experience.

That’s when he had the idea to propose to you. He knew it was crazy for him to do that, especially knowing you’d already committed to be by his side. Still, he wanted you to have the celebration you deserved. The only problem was that he was nervous about asking you to marry him.

Mor had to smack some sense into him when he confessed he was scared you wouldn’t agree to marry him. “First of all, you two already had a mating ceremony. A ceremony I’m still bitter you didn’t invite me to. Do you seriously think she’ll say no?” Mor complained to her cousin. Mor never let Rhysand forget how much it hurt her and the rest of the inner circle that they didn’t attend your mating ceremony: “Of course, she’s going to want a wedding ceremony as well. If you need any help with anything, let us know. You know we’d be more than happy to help.”

Rhysand knew she was right and decided to take her up on helping him propose.

He was glad he did because she also managed to rope the rest of their friend to help him propose. Feyre, Nesta, and Elain helped by doing your hair and makeup and getting you ready for what they said was a girl's night. Amren took it upon herself to confirm their dinner reservations at your favorite restaurant, and Mor, Cassian, and Azriel were setting up the post-dinner celebration at Rita’s.

While all of them were working hard to get everything perfect for your surprise, Rhysand was locked in his office trying to write the speech he was going to recite to you before proposing. It took a while, but he was proud of the thoughts he came up with.

Once Amren let Rhysand know everything was set up at the restaurant, he decided to head over and wait. Amren, Cassian, Azriel, and Mor soon joined Rhysand and were pestering him about what he had planned to say to you when you finally arrived. He was about to scold them for annoying him when he noticed you were walking towards the table.

He couldn’t stop himself from smiling as he took in your surprised expression. “You set this all up for me?” you asked and rushed over to your mate. Rhysand simply nodded at you: “Best.Mate.Ever,” you kissed Rhysand after every word.

You spent the next hour eating, drinking, and enjoying each other's company. Once it was time for dessert, you asked to see the menu so you could choose what you wanted: “Actually, my love, I have something you might want more than what is on this menu,” Rhysand took the menu from your hands and passed it off to Mor.

You stared at Rhysand, confused, before asking: “Are you sure? You know how much I love their desserts.”

Everyone tried their hardest not to laugh at your comment. “Trust me, my love, you will love this.”

Rhysand was about to recite the words he had carefully thought of for the past hour, but they disappeared the second you looked him in the eyes. “I-I,” Rhysand stammered. Are you ok, my love? Rhysand heard you speak to him through the bond: “Yes, I am.”

Taking a sharp breath, Rhysand stood from his chair before kneeling down in front of you: “My darling y/n. You know how much I love you, how much I adore spending every waking moment by your side.” You nodded as you listened to your mate: “I know this is silly, seeing as we already had a mating ceremony, but I love you so much that-”

You stiffened as you watched Rhysand reach into his coat pocket and pull out a small box: “My beautiful y/n, will you marry me?” Your heart was racing when Rhysand opened the box and revealed a gorgeous ring with the biggest and shiniest diamond you’ve ever seen.

“Yes ! ! !” you exclaimed and tackled Rhysand to the ground out of excitement. You earned gasps from not only your friends but also from others in the restaurant.

Rhysand just chuckled at your reaction before he slipped the ring onto your finger and helped you up. “I’M ENGAGED ! ! !” you flashed your ring to everyone in the restaurant and earned some cheers from them.

“I have another surprise for you,” Rhysand whispered into your ear: “Do you want to go see what it is, or do you still want dessert?”

You furiously shook your head no: “Take me to my other surprise.”

After paying for your dinner, Rhysand took you and your friends to Rita’s: “I paid to rent out Rita’s so we could celebrate our engagement in peace,” Rhysand explained when you realized you were the only ones in the building.

You turned and planted a passionate kiss on your mate's lips before you headed straight to the bar.

Rhysand had a permanent smile the entire night as he watched you drink, dance, and sing with your friends. “You’re fortunate to have someone like her in your life,” Azriel commented to Rhysand as they watched you and Cassian singing karaoke.

“I know I am,” Rhysand replies: “Gods, I know I am.”

Just as Azriel was about to ask something else, the brothers heard your voice and got their attention: “Rhys, come sing with me ! ! !” you shouted.

Rhysand patted Azriel’s shoulder before joining you on stage and decided to sing a love song in front of your friends.

#rhysand imagine #rhysand x reader #acotar imagine #acotar x reader

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godisshook · 8 months

Text

Bandit

Tyler was used to taking control of a new person each week, the rush feeling better and better each time. The method was the same, get them to have sex, swap, and enjoy. Tyler had it down to a science, and he would need every bit of his expertise for his latest guy.

Owen was Tyler's newest co-worker. The two talked often and had become great friends. With so much emotion already between them, however, Tyler feared that the swapping wouldn't be complete. All Tyler wanted was a glimpse into the life of this guy who he had become so close with. So he decided to keep things light, he would swap for one week, and one week only.

Now was the time to execute his plan. He had already invited Owen over for dinner, and it was obvious there were mutual feelings between the two of them. With dinner going without a hitch, Tyler gave Owen his notorious bedroom eyes, and the two went upstairs.

As Owen began fucking him, Tyler thought of just how skilled Owen was at sex. His intrigue was stopped as he felt Owen's cock fill him. Releasing a moan in response, Owen ramped things up, fucking harder and faster. Tyler felt a tinge of regret, as he wouldn't be fucked like this again, but with Owen thrusting harder and harder, each thought was replaced by the urge to cum. Reaching climax, cum would pour from Owen's dick, and as Tyler felt his hole fill up, he knew this was his chance. He felt a sudden warmth, and as the world around him lost color, and soon blacked out, he knew he had been successful.

Waking up, Tyler felt different, and he knew exactly what that meant. He was now Owen, and as he assessed his new body, he knew the potential it held. That familiar rush came to him again, and he just knew he had to take this new body out for a spin. Before he could, he took the old Owen, now in the body of Tyler, back to his place, laying him on his bed as if nothing happened. With this precaution taken, it was time to fuck the day away, with this new body pumping out endless loads, as every guy opened up for his massive cock. The night was full of him spreading his seed, with holes being filled with cum everywhere he went. "I could get real used to this," Tyler thought to himself as he was fucking his "last" guy of the night.

Tyler wasn't used to this. He had taken over some real hotties, but he had never got this level of attention before. While it was his rule to return the body after a week, he decided to revel in being Owen for just a little while longer. After a month of being Owen, life had gotten great for Tyler. He now had a boyfriend and easily became the most popular guy on campus. It was as if everything was being handed to him. He wondered how Owen was doing in his old body, as he would have no memory of the swap. For all he knew, the old Owen had been in Tyler's body the whole time.

Regardless, Tyler, the real Tyler, would have to decide whether he would stay as Owen, or return to his body, and he only had a week to do so. The end of the month would solidify the swap, and thus time was of the essence. Tyler pushed the decision back, choosing to revel in this for as long as possible. As the final day drew to a close, Tyler thought about everything. Great sex, good times, Tyler knew in his heart of hearts he would never forgive himself for giving that up, so the decision was made.

As morning came, Owen yawned heavily, taking plenty of air into his big chest. By his side, his boyfriend rests his head on Owen's chest. A feeling of rightness came over him, as he knew he chose correctly. The old Owen would only know his new life as Tyler, and what few memories remained, would not do much to help him.

#jock #alpha men #muscle #muscle tf #swapping #body swap #male body swap

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blingblong55 · 8 months

Text

Did you care?- König

Part 1 is here

F!Reader, angst, no happy ending, cheating

"König!" you laugh, the waves of the warm summer ocean crashing against you. His family had invited you with them that summer, the first girl he ever brought home. He never told you that though. "Oh my Liebling." he laughs with you, taking you deeper into the ocean. It was then that he knew how strong love can be. Hours later, as you chased his little nieces and nephew along the shore, his family told him something he still remembers.

The accident, that is when you knew he still cared. At the age of 37, that is when he became a father to a woman he never loved. A car crash and stitches, that is what brought you to him. A father and a boyfriend, never to marry anyone else that isn't you, that is what made him a coward to his girlfriend's family. "R/N, König has gotten into a car accident." his mother called you around 2 am, her voice so tired and filled with fear. You dropped everything, including the late-night dinner you were having with your then-partner.

"Love, where are you going?" he questioned you. "A friend needs me, she...she broke up with her boyfriend and she needs me." The first of many lies you told to keep him safe. You didn't cheat but you lied to visit the guy you will always love. As you drove to the hospital, tears ran down your face. It was fear, regret and shame. "Hallo, ich muss einen Patienten finden-"

"R/N." his mother came rushing to you, tears on her face. You hugged her and walked with her to the waiting area. His father was there as well, you hugged him too and after minutes of breaks and cries, the story lay in your hands. The mother of his child ran away with his kid, he begged and cried for her to return. She lost their kid, got arrested and after a week of looking, he heard his child was found. One drunk driver, that is all it took to have you sit there, holding the hand of his forlorn mother. His child was under the custody of the police and he was in a grey room.

"You think you'll ever end up marrying me, R/N?" he looked over at you as you hung up decorations for Christmas. "I don't see myself ever marrying and there are times I fear of it. Just know this, I know I am meant for someone." He nods and keeps the ring in his pocket tucked away. "Yeah." was all he answered. You looked at him as he looked away at some decoration.

"For you, that is who I am meant for. I don't want a ring, a dress or a ceremony, I want this, this life you and I already have." you wished to say but those words never came out. Month after month you gave him clear clues that you wanted to be the one he lived with, old and grey.

You didn't even notice when his parents had gone to his room. You sat and stared at the white wall. The two years and a half that you spent trying to forget him all come crashing down. One phone call from his mother and you were there at his disposal. Many ask, what parts of life flash before someone as they near their possible death? For him it was you. The day at the beach, Christmas, the drunk karaoke, silly argument over movies. "Harry and Sally stayed together!" you protested. "Mein Liebling, Harry and Sally are two of the people I know will not make it to old age together. It was a kiss, maybe Sally left after that."

The one thing that he knew flashed before his eyes was the conversation at the beach years ago. Once you were let into his room, you sat by his bed. Parents out in the hallways, you held his hand. Fear was to die alone but this image was the current fear. Tears ran down your face, it didn't matter that he cheated years ago, that you two hadn't spoken since but what mattered was him now. You stoked his hair and kissed his forehead with trembling lips. Before, you couldn't stand him, but he was in this world alive and that brought you tranquillity. The thought of him no longer in it, that was the fear. Who cared if he moved on, he was alive, healthy and happy.

The muse to the blues you whistled, the kiss he gave you on the mysterious bruise, the cliche dance in the kitchen at midnight, and now you sit there, looking at his scarred face. You whispered for only him to hear, "That evening in December, when you were going to propose, I would've said yes, I was meant for someone, remember?" You stood up and walked out of the room. "R/N, will you stay?" His father asks. "I'm sorry, I have to meet someone early in the morning but keep me updated." You kissed his father's cheek and hugged his mother.

Meanwhile, König lay in that bed, eyes teary as he heard your confession. The ring he wanted to give you was on a chain that hung by his neck. Always to be by his heart. "Liebling." he whispers. "I want to marry you, over and over again." That is a promise two young lovers made.

"When we get old, you and I better retell the story of us," you say as you lay in the green grass. "And I will tell it to you every night," König spoke softly. "Every night," he holds your hand. "I will always tell you the story of how I met the greatest thing in my life." He smiles and sighs happily, "And I'll make you fall in love with me all over again." He meant every word, he wanted the spark of love between them to never die, for them to always be in love. "I'll always fall in love with you as if it was the first time, every single time." He cared, more than you'll ever know.

"You never let her go, my son." his mother sternly says. He sighs and looks over at you, his youngest niece hung by his arms, his nephew chasing you both. The giggles from the children and your laughter, yeah, he wants that life with you. "You think she'll want to?" he asks his parents. "If not today or in a year, I know she will." He looks at the ring and nods. "When I marry her, can you both please not give a long speech?" This caused his parents to laugh and nod a little.

Maybe the movies and all the news articles are right, in some universe, you and him are together. And in that universe, he has his three kids, a wife and the picket fence to his home. A home with you, two hearts that beat for the other. He cares.

Tags: @sunshiinegaz @liyanahelena

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tinycoffeeroom · 1 month

Text

thank god for bikes | arthurtv

inspired by @mrstelevision 🤍

face claim: steph bohrer ♡

request: here !

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

📍 london

liked by gkbarry, max_balegde, and 98,302 others

y/nsworld about last night ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

view all 3,392 comments

user1 i'm in love with you

gkbarry cant believe i didn't even get photo creds ↳ y/nsworld please forgive my sins oh great gkbarry

user2 y/n!! i think the guys u mentioned on ur twt was george clarke and arthurtv!! arthur posted on twt about george getting hit by a bike on a wall!! ↳ y/nsworld !! let me check his twt <3

liked by y/nsworld, wroetoshaw and 29,492 others

arthurtv first pic taken moments before disaster (at least this one won't leave a scar)

georgeclarkeey don't know what was worse, the bike ptsd or you dribbling down your shirt ↳ arthurtv your mum doesn't mind my dribbling ↳ y/nsworld the dribbling was funnier to watch tbh ↳ georgeclarkeey take that mr television

gkbarry i didn't even notice it was you guys hiding in the corner ↳ georgeclarkeey just wanted some alone time with my boyfriend x ↳ arthurtv stop telling people i'm your boyfriend!!

👤 max_balegde liked by max_balegde, arthurtv and 38,028 others

y/nsworld wine in coffee cups and classic literature in a park, my idea of heaven ꕤ

max_balegde got home off my head and now andrews mad i've ruined dinner plans ↳ y/nsworld andrew baby im so sorry :( ↳ andrew_spanndy could never blame you xx ↳ max_balegde god just date her already wooooow

gkbarry regret introducing the two of you, my poor ears will never recover from this ↳ y/nsworld thats your fault for putting two professional yappers together xx

arthurtv pretty sure that's bride you're reading... wouldn't call werewolf smut classic literature ↳ y/nsworld and how do YOU know what's in the book? 🤨

👤 arthur_tv, max_balegde liked by y/nsworld, arthurnfhill and 30,395 others

georgeclarkeey totally normal photo to promote the newest useless hotline ep x

max_balegde rip my purple crocs... can't believe y/n stole them right off my feet... ↳ user2 !!! y/n at the arthurtv podcast recording?? my y/ntv senses are tingling ↳ user3 i'm pretty sure she was there bc her and max are friends... ♥️ y/nsworld ↳ user2 they've never randomly had their friends at recordings, dw you'll join the y/ntv cult soon

📍 ibiza

👤 georgeclarkeey, chrismd, arthurnfhill liked by arthurnfhill, y/nsworld and 45,028 others

arthurtv thank you spotify for inviting us out! (photo cred: y/nsworld)

user2 i am going to scream from the rooftops, y/ntv'ers unite!!

y/nsworld should receive compensation for having to look at george's bare grippers the entire weekend ↳ arthurtv will bring round some wine this weekend ↳ y/nsworld good boy ↳ user2 ... y'all are fucking with me atp

📍 ibiza

liked by arthurtv, gkbarry and 83,028 others

y/nsworld beach bum 𓇼

gkbarry happiness looks so good on you ↳ y/nsworld i love the bones of you

user2 !! WHO TOOK THE PHOTO I FEEL INSANE ↳ y/nsworld my friend! :)

📍 ibiza

liked by y/nsworld, georgeclarkeey and 49,204 others

arthurtv decided to stay in the sunshine a few more days :)

user3 user2 i fear you may be onto something ↳ user2 i'm gonna eat glass. like i am actually putting shards in my mouth rn ↳ y/nsworld omg pls don't

y/nsworld looking good mr television ↳ arthurtv why thank you miss world

liked by arthurtv, max_balegde and 83,028 others

y/nsworld use code ynsworld for 15% off ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

max_balegde leaving my bf for you rn. ↳ andrew_spanndy not if i leave you first ↳ y/nsworld i can date both of you at the same time xx

arthurtv djsidjief djg ↳ y/nsworld you ok mr television?

y/nsworld didn't even think about what i was wearing when i went to go see mr hill sing about cold coffee, sorry guys you got the wrong arthur xx

POST DELETED

👤 y/nsworld liked by y/nsworld, arthurnfhill and 93,294 others

arthurtv someone forgot to change over to their finsta so i guess it's hard launch time... somehow got the most gorgeous girl on earth to agree to date me, must be my fantastic sense of humour

y/nsworld lbr most of them already knew, we weren't exactly subtle ↳ arthurtv speak for yourself xx

theburntchip it's the big ol' hog you got in them trousers ♥️ y/nsworld ↳ arthurtv ah yes forgot about that

max_balegde take care of her or me and andrew are snatching her real quick ↳ y/nsworld ... i may have to do some rethinking

user2 i can't believe i was right... VINDICATION ♥️ arthurtv, y/nsworld

👤 arthur_tv liked by arthurtv, gkbarry and 104,845 others

y/nsworld told him i forgot to change to finsta but really i just wanted to show that i bagged a hottie ✮⋆˙

georgeclarkeey still can't believe you snatched him from right under my nose ↳ y/nsworld we're still in the honeymoon phase so i may give him back x ↳ arthurtv what the fuck

gkbarry crying into a pint of ice cream thanks xx ↳ y/nsworld you know you're the love of my life xx

y/nsworld also user2 sorry for gaslighting you xx ↳ user2 i have never been so happy to be gaslighted could do a happy lil cry ↳ y/nsworld our fave y/ntv'er we love you ♡

#arthur tv imagine #arthur tv x reader #arthurtv imagine #arthurtv x reader #arthurtv fluff #arthurtv fics #arthur frederick imagines #arthur frederick x reader #arthur frederick fics

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shmaptainwrites · 2 months

Text

𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 [𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍]

PAIRINGS — James Wilson x Reader (no pronouns used)

SUMMARY — James comes home just in time to help with dinner

WARNINGS — one almost dirty joke

NOTE — This is a request from the winner of my fic lottery @anayame The concept was so cute to write and I hope you like it!

Middle picture credit goes to @shots-of-wilson-and-whiskey

It had been a while since James could confidently say he had come home to the smell of food being cooked in the kitchen. The sound of onions sizzling and sauces bubbling was like a fanfare welcoming and inviting him into the space.

“Hey, you got back home just in time,” he heard your voice call from the kitchen. “I need an extra pair of hands, get in here.”

“Normally when people say that it means the food is already finished cooking,” James teased, after having taken off his shoes and rolled up his sleeves so that you could put him to work.

“And let you miss out on this fun?” you scoffed. “No way.”

“Where do you need me?” he asked, coming to stand behind you, placing his hands on your hips and pressing a kiss behind your ear. “Cause I’m more than happy to just keep doing this.”

“Ease up, lover boy,” you chuckled. “Steak needs searing and I know how particular you get about your perfect medium.”

“Steak, are we celebrating?” he asked.

“Yes, the fact that you made it home on time for dinner,” you looked over at him to gauge his reaction and he couldn’t fight back a smile and shook his head.

“How was work?” he asked, side-stepping your comment.

“My arch-nemesis is an eight-year-old named Justin, how do you think work went?” you asked and James laughed at your response. “I’m kidding, it was alright, Justin has a cold so he wasn’t in class today.”

“I’m excited to come in for career day and meet all these eight-year-olds that occupy every story you tell,” he said. “Who knows, maybe Justin will like me.”

“I doubt it, he only likes his friend Asante and even then sometimes Asante still gets caught up in his whirlwind. Kind of like you and House actually.”

“I do not get caught up in his whirlwind,” James looked at you, offended, and you looked over at him to ask if he was serious.

“You lied to the police for him, you most definitely got caught up in it.”

James opened his mouth for a rebuttal, but shut it seeing as you had made a very valid point.

“How was your day at work?” you asked. “Did Cuddy finally approve that expansion for the playroom?”

“Not quite yet, but I think I’m almost there. Maybe if I throw House under the bus when he goes behind her back that’ll sweeten the deal,” he thought to himself.

“But at what cost, House is gonna fight back and you’re gonna regret every decision you ever made.”

James weighed his options before giving up and saying he’d decide what to do about it later.

You moved over to the stove where James was to pour some pureed tomatoes into the onions frying on the stove to make a sauce to go on the side with the vegetables and the steak. What you didn’t realize is that James, in his haste to turn down the heat on the stove, would knock the spoon out of your hand, making it fall in the dish and making the tomatoes splatter all over your shirt.

“Oh my God,” James’ eyes went wide, seeing the splotch on your shirt. “I’m so sorry.”

“I should have known having you in the kitchen would only result in disaster,” you teased, not at all upset by the mess. “It’s nothing a little TLC can’t take care of.”

“Can I make it up to you?” James asked. “I know how much you liked that shirt.”

You used your finger to scoop off some of the pureed tomato off your shirt and place it on his nose.

“I don’t know, can you?” you asked with raised brows.

James wiped the sauce off his nose before grabbing your sleeves and giving you a signal with his eyes for you to slip your arms out of them before he helped pull the shirt off your head without contaminating anything else, leaving you in a thin tank top.

“I think you’re just making it up to yourself,” you laughed, looking down at what you were wearing.

“If I were making it up to myself, I would have done this,” he took the spoon out of the tomato sauce and flicked it at you, now getting your undershirt dirty. “Oops.”

“Oh, you’re so going to pay for that,” you shook your head and just to spite him you kept the tank top on even though it was dirty.

By then the butter in James’ pan had melted and was beginning to bubble so he turned his attention back to the stove so that he could begin searing the steak. You cooked in tandem for a while, and once the steak was cooked James stole a few kisses from you, apologizing again for your shirt and you assured him he could take it off later if he really wanted to.

“Do you want me to set the table?” James asked, after washing his hands and having set the steak off to the side.

“That would be nice, it could be like a little home date,” you smiled while putting some potatoes in the oven to cook.

You watched as James dug around the cupboards for a tablecloth and candles, carefully setting everything up on the dining room table so that it was just right.

Slowly, one by one, the dishes made their way onto the table as they were ready and when everything was set up you looked down at yourself and wondered if maybe you were a bit underdressed.

“Maybe I should change into something a little nicer,” you said while James lit the candles on the table.

“Change, what for?”

“I’ve got tomato all over my shirt, James. I thought that one was pretty obvious.”

“No, I mean this is a home date, isn’t the whole point that it can be as messy as we want it to be?” he asked. “I mean, I don’t have to wear this tie,” he pointed to it as he came closer to you, prompting you to take it between your fingers and feel the fabric before helping him untie it and throw it off to the side.

You unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt and for good measure he took a spoon of the sauce and poured it on his shirt.

“There, we match.”

“And need to do a load of laundry after this,” you chuckled and pulled him in by the collar of his shirt for a kiss. “I love you, and I love cooking with you.”

“Me too, to both of those things,” James agreed and you grinned before turning him around and pushing him in the direction of his seat, insisting that you were starving and needed to eat. “So, I was thinking,” James started while serving you some sides.

“Oh, that’s dangerous.”

“I was thinking,” he repeated. “Our anniversary is coming up. Do you want to do something special?”

“Hmm,” you thought for a moment. “We could both take a sick day,” you suggested. “Or a few, go up to Connecticut, rent a cabin.”

“Cook all day,” James teased and you smiled. “I think that sounds like a great plan. We’ve always talked about doing something like that haven’t we?”

“Yeah, it just…I don’t know, never seemed like the right time.”

“You sure you won’t miss your kiddos too much?” he asked.

“As much as I love them, a few days just the two of us is too enticing to pass up,” you sipped your drink.

Eating dinner was not nearly as fun as cooking it together, but you both made do with what you could and James stories were nothing short of interesting especially when they included House and his team.

“Alright, I think I’m stuffed now,” you leaned back in your seat. “But we should clean this up before I go into a food coma.”

“I wash, you rinse?” James asked.

“We have a dishwasher, James,” you chuckled.

“I know, I just thought you might want to spend more time, but I know when my company isn’t wanted,” he feigned offence.

“Awe, that’s actually really sweet,” you let out a small laugh. “Alright, I’ll suffer through dishwashing for you, Wilson.”

“Just for that, you’re washing and I’m rinsing,” he gave you a look and you conceded, standing up from the table and clearing the leftovers before getting started on what was in the sink.

“James, be careful with that, you’re accidentally spraying water all over me,” you nudged him with your hip.

“Oh sorry I meant to actually spray water all over you,” he turned the moveable faucet in your direction and you gasped when the water hit your shirt. “I mean you did say we needed to do laundry.”

“Is this why you wanted to wash dishes? To get me wet?-I heard it James don’t you dare make a comment,” you immediately amended and he fought back a chuckle.

“I love you,” he smiled again and you wished he would wipe that stupid grin off of his face because it made it really hard to be annoyed with him.

“You think you can just say I love you and it’s gonna make it all better?” you asked. “Cause you’re right, it is,” you grabbed his face with your soapy hands and pressed a kiss to his lips, sandwiched between smiles and chuckles.

To say you both looked ridiculous by the end was an understatement, but James couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun at dinner and it became very clear that maybe he needed to come home a little early more often.

TAGLIST —

@cuntyvicodin @paola-carter @kiddbegins @il0vebeingdelulu @illicit4ff4irs @lynnsthoughts @miarabanana @iwmflbb @/shots-of-wilson-and-whiskey

#james wilson #james wilson x reader #house md #house md x reader #house md fanfiction #james wilson fanfiction #james wilson fanfic #dr wilson x reader #dr wilson x you #james wilson x you #james wilson fic #dr wilson fanfiction #hate crimes md

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shakespeareanwannabe · 2 months

Text

As You Wish, Chapter 6

Summary: When arriving at Camp Silver Star, Abby Floyd was anticipating a summer of adventure with an ocean separating her from the three people she loved most: her mom, her Uncle Bob and her Aunt Natasha. But after a run in with Charlie Seresin, an extremely familiar looking and irritating camper in a different cabin, her summer plans take a turn that neither girl ever could have expected.

Potential Trigger Warnings: reader's children are described as being blond with green eyes because genetics are wild and Jake's genes are strong, reader is canonically Bob's sister (but biological relation is never discussed), reader goes by Buttercup and is tattooed, angst, sadness, reference to divorce, kids doing sneaky things, references to babies, swearing, references to the hospital

Sharp Memorial Hospital, almost 12 years ago

The skies were painted shades of lilac and rose, golden hues dancing just above the horizon as the sun played peekaboo with the clouds, not quite willing to give up the daylight just yet. Jake watched through the small window in the private hospital room, two small, warm weights resting against his bare chest. His wife of less than a year slept soundly in the uncomfortable hospital bed next to him.

Bob and Natasha had left a few hours before to get dinner, the WSO arriving the second he was invited to meet his new nieces, his partner following close behind. The two were never far from each other, and Jake knew that they preferred it that way.

“Knock, knock…”

Jake looked up and immediately rolled his eyes. Under his arms, Javy had two massive teddy bears, one pink and one purple. Behind him, Rooster stood with a bundle of balloons, looking like he’d rather be holding anything else.

“Hey fellas,” Jake whispered.

“Jesus, Hangman, don’t you ever put on a shirt?” Rooster scoffed playfully.

“It’s called skin to skin contact, dipshit. It’s supposed to be good for them,” he retorted, shifting Abby (or was it Charlie?) in his arms as she cooed softly.

“Easy with the language there, papa bear,” Javy laughed, depositing the two bears beside the side table and moving to stand behind Jake’s chair. “You’re gonna have to watch the swearing with these two little angels around.”

Jake chuckled softly. “Yeah, I know. Buttercup’s already given me sh—lip for it.”

“That’s why I love that girl,” Rooster nodded. “She knows how to keep Bagman in line.”

“Just for that, Javy gets to hold them first,” Jake cocked an eyebrow at his friend and rival.

“But there’s two of ‘em,” Rooster complained. “Why should I have to wait?”

“Because I’m his best friend? Because you can’t keep your mouth shut? Because I’m superior in every way?” Javy laughed, tugging the other chair in the room over and plopping down. “Alright, little ladies, come to Uncle Javy!”

“Better pick just one, or the Prodigal Son over there is gonna start pouting,” Jake smirked in Rooster’s direction, cradling his daughters closer when he flipped him off. “I can give you neither of them,” he reminded.

Rooster huffed. “Fine. Just gimme.”

Jake handed Charlie (it was definitely Charlie, he remembered now: Charlie was on his left side because her name has an L in it) over to Javy, who immediately started cooing at the infant as he cradled her head in his big hand.

“Hey there, girlie,” he whispered to the sleeping infant. “I’m your Uncle Javy, and we are gonna drive your old man nuts together. You just wait until you’re a little older and I’ll teach you all the different ways to make the vein in his forehead pop.”

“I regret everything,” Jake muttered, handing Abby over to Rooster. “Watch her head, man. Hold her like a football.”

“I know how to hold a baby, Bagman,” Rooster gripped, looking slightly awkward as he cradled the newborn.

“Coulda fooled me,” Jake returned, standing with a groan and pulling his shirt on. “Don’t hold her like you’re afraid of her, dumbass.”

“Dude, she’s like…fresh,” Rooster grumbled, tucking Abby a little closer to his body. “I’ve never held anything this new before.”

“You get used to it,” a quiet voice yawned behind them.

“Hey mama,” Jake grinned, swooping down to kiss his wife’s forehead. “How you feeling?”

Buttercup groaned and stretched, her joints popping. “Like I just went through 27 hours of labor and pushed two of your giant kids out of a 10-centimeter hole in my body?”

Javy shuddered. “A little graphic, Buttercup.”

“A little accurate, Coyote,” she shot back, leaning down to fiddle with the controls of her bed, raising herself higher. “Anyhow, its time for me to try feeding them again. And, before you ask, no. You’re not allowed to watch,” she glared playfully at Javy and Rooster.

“We have to go?” Javy pouted but handed Charlie back to Jake to deposit in his wife’s arms.

“Sorry, man,” Jake grinned. “But whatever she says, goes. I won’t be arguing with her for a long time after what she just went through.”

Buttercup smiled at him, exhaustion shining in her eyes as she accepted her daughter into her arms. “Thanks, baby,” she whispered. “Rooster? Can we get Abby back please?”

Jake turned to see Rooster standing stock still as he stared down at the sleeping baby. “Do…do I have to?” he whispered.

Jake chuckled. “Who woulda thought that it would only take my daughter to shut down Bradshaw’s attitude?”

Rooster shot him a glare as he handed Abby over to her father. “I’m with Javy…I’m gonna enjoy working with these two to turn that blond hair grey.”

“Sure, Rooster,” Jake laughed, cradling Abby to his chest as he waved them off. “Whatever you say.”

Clifton, Texas, Now

Bright sunlight streamed in through the small gap in the purple curtains, slicing across Abby’s face as she yawned and stretched before sitting up.

It took her a moment to remember where she was. The furniture in her bedroom was supposed to be walnut, not grey. Her window was certainly not east facing, and she did not have that many plaid shirts hanging in her closet. It was only when she heard Rooster’s heavy footsteps above her that she remembered. She was home, technically. Home in Texas, with her father and her uncles, as she had been for the past few days.

Abby’s cheeks ached as a wide smile tugged at her lips. The last few days had been so wonderful. Her dad was everything she ever could have dreamed and more. She’d spent the previous day just hanging out with him in the ranch office, eating sandwiches that Rooster had made for lunch and making each other laugh. The day before that, she’d tagged along with her dad to one of Javy’s football practices. She may not completely understand football yet, but she’d had a great time watching her dad and Javy coach the team of high school players. Every night, she hung out in the kitchen with Rooster, helping him make dinner and prep lunches for the ranch staff and the guests staying in the cabins. Each day had been better than the last, and she couldn’t wait to see how the rest of the week played out.

That day, she knew, would be the best day of all. Her dad had promised to take her out on a trail ride through the forest that bordered one side of the property. He had said that he had something important to talk to her about, and that phrase had sent her heart racing. She didn’t think that he knew about the swap (mostly because Charlie had reassured her in a late-night call that nothing about her dad’s behaviour seemed out of place), but she wondered if maybe he would tell her about her mom and sister. Maybe he was going to share the news that she and Charlie had been waiting to hear from their parents.

Anxious to hear whatever it was that her dad needed to talk to her about, Abby raced to get ready and made her way downstairs, only pausing when she heard an unfamiliar voice in the kitchen.

“But sugar…”

“I know, baby, I’m sorry. But I promised that I’d take Charlie out on a ride today, and I swear, I’m going to tell her today.”

“That’s what you said yesterday. And the day before that. And the day before that,” a high pitched, southern drawl responded, and Abby poked her head around the corner to sneak a peek at whoever was speaking. All she could see was her father, his hands cradling the hips of a tiny woman with bleach blond hair and painted on blue jeans.

“I know, baby,” Jake sighed. “I planned on telling her last night, but she passed out early. And I was definitely going to tell her about you the day before that, but Javy waylaid me and invited us to football practice. Rooster’s been keeping her busy in the kitchen after work too, so it’s been hard to get a moment alone with her.”

“Hard to get a moment alone with your own daughter? In your own house? On your own property?” The pout was clear in the woman’s voice.

“Savannah, don’t start,” Jake sighed again, removing his hands from her hips and turning. Abby pulled her head back around the corner before he could spot her. “You know that Rooster, Javy, and I own the place together. And she’s known them since she was born, so they’re as entitled to spend time with her as I am, especially when she wants to spend time with them.”

“I’m sorry, sugar. I’m just so excited for her to know.”

“I know, baby. Me too. I’ll tell her today, I promise.”

Abby poked her head back around the corner in time to see Jake kiss Savannah, and she felt her heart sink.

Turning on her heel, her feet pounded up the stairs and she launched herself onto her bed, scrambling for her cell phone.

A: Does dad have a girlfriend?

The answer came almost immediately.

C: LOL no he’s got no game

C: Why??? 👀

A: Because there’s a random blond lady hanging out in the kitchen and he’s calling her baby

C: You sure it’s him and not Rooster?

C: Uncle Roo has lots of hookups 🤢

A: Pretty sure I know what he looks like, thanks 🙄

C: You didn’t until a couple of weeks ago, smartypants

A: Thanks for the reminder

A: Are you sure he doesn’t have a girlfriend?

A: He wants to talk to me about something

A: What if it’s her?

A: Charlie?

C: Sorry, gotta go! Mom’s taking me to one of her book signings, and then we’re going to dinner and a show! Good luck!

Abby threw her phone onto the mattress and groaned, watching it bounce.

“Super helpful, sis…” she muttered, burying her head in her hands.

Her dad wanted to talk to her about something, and that something seemed to be a pretty, tiny woman with a grating voice. And, for all of Charlie’s reassurance, they had seemed pretty friendly and familiar with each other in the kitchen. The memory made her stomach churn.

What if he wanted to tell her that he was dating this Savannah lady? What would that do to their plan to make their parents see each other again? They had always known that their parents getting back together was a long shot, but they had hoped. And what if Savannah didn’t want her dad to change the current custody arrangement? What would they do then?

Abby felt her heart crack a little in her chest. She couldn’t imagine going back to the way things had been before, not now that she’d gotten a chance to love her dad and be loved by him in return. Not now that she’d gotten to cook with Rooster and coach with Javy and watch the three men barbecue while she swam in the pool. It was both fresh and familiar, terrifyingly new and heartwarmingly recognizable. She couldn’t go back to live in London, no matter how much she loved it, not when she knew that Seresin Ranch was waiting for her in Texas.

But what if her dad decided that he wanted Savannah more than he wanted her? It would be too much for her to bear.

Abby shook her head. No. That wouldn’t happen. No matter what happened, or why their mom decided to take her, and their dad decided to take Charlie, her dad loved her. She knew that as surely as she knew her own name. Once her dad found out that it was her, not Charlie, he’d want to make sure he saw them both an equal amount of time. He just had to.

A playful knock sounded against her door and her dad stuck his head inside.

“Hey, punk,” he grinned, the lines around his eyes and mouth deepening into crevices that spoke of a lifetime of joy. “You ready to go?”

She grinned back at him, the burden on her heart lifting instantly. Her dad loved her. If she was sure of anything at all, it was of that.

“Yeah, dad. I’m ready.”

Her backpack weighed down with sandwiches, apples, carrots, and enough water to feed a small army, Abby trekked into the stable, where Charlie’s paint mare, Lovebug, was standing, already tacked up. Her dad’s horse, a large grey gelding named Firewall, stood behind her as Jake finished cinching up his saddle.

“Hey, Charlie-girl, you all ready?” he called out, patting Firewall’s flank.

“Yeah, dad. Just give me a second!”

“More than a second, you two,” Rooster called, strolling in behind her. “Dude, there’s an issue with the AC unit in cabin 5. You want me to handle it like normal?”

“Cabin 5? You mean the same cabin that’s been giving us holy hell since they got here?”

Rooster nodded, a large hand reaching out to ruffle her braided hair as he passed her. “That’s the one.”

Jake sighed and rubbed at his forehead under the brim of his white cowboy hat. “Nah, shoot Toni a text and let her know to head in there and double check it. If there’s no issue, she can read them the riot act about wasting our time.”

Rooster grinned. “I wish I could be a fly on the wall for that conversation.”

Abby tuned out their conversation as she slowly approached Lovebug. According to Charlie, the mare was an easy ride, but loyal as all get out to Charlie, never allowing anyone else to mount her. Charlie had gotten her as a gift for her fifth birthday and the mare hadn’t allowed another rider since. Hopefully she looked and smelled enough like Charlie to be able to fool the mare.

“Hey Lovey…” Abby murmured; her eyes lowered as she held one hand out for the mare to sniff. “Easy girl…please let this work…”

The mare’s eyes widened, and her nostrils flared as she anxiously pawed at the soft stable floors and whinnied, tossing her head back and retreating as far as she could, almost bumping Firewall.

“Whoa!”

“What the hell?”

Jake grabbed Firewall’s reins as he surged backwards to grab Firewall’s reins before he could retreat too far. Rooster leapt forward to grab Lovebug’s reins, easing her head down and petting her muzzle gently.

“Charlie, are you okay?” Jake called, clipping Firewall onto a long lead attached to the wall so he wouldn’t wander.

“Y-yeah…I’m okay,” Abby replied softly as her heart sank. She’d known that tricking Charlie’s horse was going to be one of the more difficult parts of their plan, but she’d never thought that the horse would react like that to her. If she couldn’t get Lovebug on her side, their plan was as good as done.

Rooster clipped Lovebug onto the wall and stared between horse and would-be rider curiously. “I’ve never seen her react to you that way before, kid. Anyone else, sure. But not you.”

“M-maybe she smells Champ on me,” she offered weakly, remembering how Charlie had taken a shine to the palomino at camp. “I…I don’t think I’ve washed this shirt since coming back from camp.”

Jake approached, cautiously patting Lovebug on her withers as he passed her. “Could be. Six weeks is also a long time for her not to see you. Maybe she’s trying to readjust. She’s always been a sensitive horse. Here…let’s try again.”

Calmly, Jake took Abby’s hand in his and slowly approached the mare, extending their hands for her to smell. Cramming her other hand in her pocket, Abby anxiously crossed her fingers and held her breath.

With a twitch and a nervous tapping on the floor, Lovebug extended her graceful neck and sniffed the tips of Abby’s fingers. After a tense minute, Lovebug released a long, almost weary sigh and nibbled on Abby’s fingertips with her velvety lips.

“There,” Jake said happily, releasing Abby after gently squeezing her shoulder. “She just needed a minute to forgive you for leaving her for six weeks.”

“Yeah…” Rooster murmured, staring at Abby and Lovebug with a piercing gaze. “I guess that’s it.”

“Thanks for the assist, Rooster,” Jake called over his shoulder, unclipping Firewall and leading him out into the bright sunlight. “We’ll see you around noon, alright?”

“Bye Uncle Roo,” Abby waved timidly, all too aware of the way his heavy gaze rested on her.

The green grass swayed in the cool summer breeze as the horses strolled among the trees, birds singing a sweet song as they flitted from branch to branch.

Everything was perfect…or it would have been if not for the burden on Abby’s mind. The image of her dad kissing that blond lady was running through her mind on a loop, burning itself behind her retinas, churning the scarce remains of her breakfast in her stomach.

“You okay over there, Charlie girl?”

Abby glanced quickly at her dad before turning her eyes back down to the pommel of her saddle. She’d been grateful that the trail was wide enough to ride side by side when they’d set out, but now she was wishing that it was narrower.

“Yeah,” she sighed quietly. “Why?”

“You’re never this quiet on a trail ride. Usually, you’re talking my ear off about something or another. That’s kinda why I wanted to go on this ride with you. Rooster and Javy have kind of been monopolizing your time since you got back from camp. I wanted some daddy-daughter time before you go back to school and realize how uncool your old man is.”

“I thought you said you were always cool,” she sniffed.

“Oh, I am,” Jake grinned at her. “I’m very cool. But 12-year-old girls don’t always recognize that.”

“I’m not 12 yet,” she mumbled.

“Trust me, I know and I’m very grateful for that. You turning 12…” Jake sighed. “I can feel the grey hair popping up.”

When she didn’t laugh at his joke, they lapsed into silence. All that had happened that morning had left a sour taste in her mouth and, try as she might, she couldn’t seem to shake it.

It’s not that she didn’t want her dad to be happy. She did, just like she’d always wanted her mom to be happy. But she couldn’t help feeling like she’d just gotten her dad back, that her dad owed it to her and Charlie to give their mom a chance. They deserved to be a family, especially after the almost 12 years of not even knowing about the very existence of the other half of their family.

“Do you remember the day I was born?” she asked suddenly, looking over at him.

“Of course I do, darlin’. Hard to forget the best day of my life.”

“Then you remember my mom?”

Jake reined Firewall in sharply, urging his horse to a stop as he stared at her. “Charlie, of course I do. Where is this coming from?”

“You never talk about her,” she replied simply. “I’m almost 12, dad. I think I deserve to know about the woman who gave birth to me.” She watched as his Adam’s apple worked in his throat, his eyes skimming over the terrain, the sky, anywhere but over in her direction. “What, was she not a good person? A one-night stand? What?” she pushed, knowing none of it was true but the image of Savannah dancing in her mind was turning her anxiousness into anger.

“Charlie, your mom…” Jake sighed, his free hand rubbing at his eyes under the brim of his Stetson as he lapsed back into silence. Abby clenched the reins in her hand tightly as the silence dragged on, but she refused to push. Even though it had only been a few days, she knew Jake well enough to know that he would fight back when he felt cornered. It was the military man inside him, the pilot who knew how to stay on objective, and if his objective was to keep his daughter in the dark, Abby knew that not even God himself would be able to convince Jake to change directive.

After what felt like hours, she peeked over at her father to find him staring down at the reins in his hand as he chewed on the inside of his cheek. He looked…old. Now, Jake Seresin rarely looked his age; the deepening lines near his mouth and eyes, and the sparse sparkle of grey that decorated his thick hair and trim beard like tinsel being the only things that really gave the impression that Jake Seresin was anything other than eternally young. Charlie had shown her photos of her father in his flight suit, in his dress whites, in his khaki uniform, and the man in front of her looked like a shadow of that man. He wore no confident smile, no cocky raised eyebrow, no green eyes sparkling with a challenge. He just looked…sad, and Abby felt the last smoldering ashes of her anger sizzle out.

Reaching out carefully, she grabbed her dad’s wrist, and he looked up in surprise, like he’d forgotten she was there.

“Never mind,” she whispered. “I…I’m sorry.”

Before her eyes, her father transformed, building a cocky smile and heaving it into place. “Don’t be sorry, punk. You’re allowed to be interested in your mom. But right now, all you need to know is that she loved you something fierce and that things between me and her just…didn’t work out. Boring adult stuff that you don’t need to worry about, alright?”

Abby sighed. “Alright. Thanks, dad.”

And suddenly, he looked like he was on the right side of ageless again, flipping his grip to squeeze her hand. “Hey…I know I should tell you about her, and I promise I will eventually because you deserve to know. But for now, don’t worry about it, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you.”

He squeezed her hand once more before releasing it and urging Firewall forward, Lovebug following suit easily.

“There is something we do need to talk about though,” Jake added in a quiet voice as they crested the ridge they were climbing and came to a beautiful lookout, the ranch and all its grounds laid out below them.

Abby’s blood froze in her veins even as the sun shone down upon them, and the memory of the conversation in the kitchen hit her full force. Savannah had been pushing her dad to talk to her about something, something important, something that left a dark feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it since you got home, but you’re a pretty popular kid around here.” Jake sighed. “Listen, Charlie girl, you know you’ll always be my girl, but…I mean, it happened pretty quickly, so it’s not like I meant to keep it from you…I just…”

Blinking against the harsh sunlight, Abby zeroed in on a truck just pulling into the ranch and the words flew out of her mouth before she could stop them.

“Uncle Javy’s back from practice! Race you to him!”

Before Jake could react, Abby kicked Lovebug into action and the mare surged forward, following the steadily declining path down the ridge back to the ranch.

“Charlie!”

She could hear the rapid hoofbeats of Firewall as he galloped after them, but she didn’t slow or turn to look where her father was. Ducking low on Lovebug’s neck, she urged the mare even faster, half wishing she could run her all the way back to London and her mother’s loving arms. She had been so deliriously happy the past few days, getting to know Seresin Ranch and the men who ran it, the men who were her family by birth. But now, with this Savannah person encroaching on her newfound happiness, she found that she missed her home more than ever. She wanted both worlds, Texas and London, her mom and her dad, and she didn’t want to share it with anyone but Charlie.

So, they ran, each hoofbeat bringing her closer and closer to the sanctuary she had come to call home.

After years of ranch living, Lovebug seemed to know the unwritten rules of the land and slowed to a canter, then a trot, and finally to a walk as they passed by the paddocks and came to a stop beside a red truck branded with the Seresin Ranch logo, Javy pulling a gym bag from the bed as they finally came to a stop.

“Whoa, girlie! Where’s the fire?” Javy exclaimed as she dismounted and bounced towards him, all too aware of the cantering hoofbeats following her.

“Nothing, Javy! How was practice? Do you need a hand with your bag? Do—”

“Charlotte Delta Seresin, what the hell was that?” Jake huffed as he hopped down from Firewall.

Abby felt herself flush. “I…I saw Javy, and—”

“I know, but I was trying to talk to you!” Jake sighed, handing Firewall’s reins to a ranch hand who had scurried out of the stable. “I’ve been trying to talk to you since you got home, but we keep getting interrupted. Baby, this is important.”

Javy groaned. “Jake, man, I told you that—”

“Coyote, all due respect, I’ve heard your opinion on the matter, but this is between me and my daughter,” Jake shot a look at his wingman, a look that clearly told Javy to stay out of it, but Javy refused.

“I know, man, but—”

“What on earth is goin’ on out here?” a sugary sweet voice called from the back door of the ranch house, and Abby watched as both her father and Javy bit back a groan.

“Can’t a man have five minutes of privacy around here?” she heard Jake mutter to himself before turning and pasting a wide smile onto his face. “Nothing, Savannah. I was just trying to talk to Charlie when she spotted Javy.”

“You mean you still haven’t talked to her?” Savannah pouted as she crossed the yard to stand a few feet away from them. “Sugar, you promised…”

Abby bit back a giggle as Javy rolled his eyes behind her back.

“Savannah, I know I promised, but this is a delicate situation and I want to ease my daughter into it.”

“Why is my kitchen a mess?” Rooster hollered, stomping across the yard to join the mini congregation that had now formed.

Jake rolled his head and groaned. “Five minutes…I swear, all I need is five minutes.”

“Oh, sorry, Brad,” Savannah smiled saccharinely at him. “I was just bakin’ a cake to celebrate my welcome into the family.”

“It’s Bradley. Brad-ley.”

“Savannah…” Jake hissed in warning, his eyes flashing.

“I’m sorry, Jakey, but I’m just so excited to be marrying you!”

In an instant, everything seemed to freeze. Abby could see her Javy moving, could see her father’s lips moving as he spoke to Savannah, but it all seemed to be in slow motion.

She had expected to learn about a relationship, to have her father come to her about the new girl he was seeing and discussing it with her. But marriage? Her stomach churned and her vision tunneled, red seeping in on the edges of the landscape. Sound returned with a roar, and she found her lips moving.

“Marrying you?” she was finally able to choke out. “You’re getting married?”

Jake sighed and turned his back on Savannah, who was still smiling despite the dressing down she had surely received from Jake.

“This isn’t how I wanted you to find out, but…yes. Savannah and I are getting married.” He reached a hand towards her with a bittersweet smile.

Every muscle in her body trembling, she stepped back from her father. “How could you?” she whispered.

Jake’s eyes slid closed, and he crouched down to her level. “Charlie, I know this will be an adjustment, but—”

“An adjustment?” she barked out a laugh. “You think that this is an adjustment? Springing some random woman on me and saying she’s going to be your wife?”

“And your stepmother, honey,” Savannah added, smiling brightly at her from over Jake’s shoulder.

“Like hell you will be!” she snapped, the slight British lilt to her natural voice almost slipping through the cracks. “You won’t even tell me about my real mom, but you think that you can just shove whatever woman looks your way into her spot in my life? That’s crap!” Abby dashed her eyes before stepping back again. “Is she even old enough to be my stepmom? Because she looks like she would’ve been a kid herself when I was born!”

Javy and Rooster both ducked their heads, their shoulders shaking slightly, but Abby could take no joy in their amusement, not with the betrayal stinging in her heart and the look on her father’s face.

“Charlotte Delta Seresin, I taught you better than to speak to me like that,” her father snapped, raising himself up to his full height and staring her down, shaking off Savannah’s hand as she tried to grab his arm.

“You didn’t—” Abby cut herself off before the rest of her sentence could escape. “You didn’t raise me at all.” That’s what she had wanted to say. This man, the man she had wanted to meet for her entire life, hadn’t raised her at all, either by accident or by design. He had left her and her mom behind, taken Charlie, and never looked back. It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. “You didn’t think about me at all, dad,” she whispered, tears choking back any other words she may have wanted to share before she turned and fled, racing towards the stables.

Jake stepped forward, ready to chase after her, his heart sinking in his chest, but a firm hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Just leave her be, man,” Rooster sighed, his eyes following his niece over the landscape. “She’ll come around.”

“Will she?” Javy scoffed. “Way to break the news, man.”

“I…I should talk to her,” Jake murmured, all too aware of Savannah retreating back into the house. “I should explain.”

“Let me talk to her first,” Rooster offered. “Let me test the waters before you boil yourself alive.”

Running a hand over the back of his neck, Jake finally nodded. “Alright. Thanks, man.”

“Don’t thank me, man. Not yet.”

Abby huddled in the office in the stable, the door locked tight against her and the outside world. A wave of shame washed over her as she remembered how she had spoken to her father. She never spoke to any adult that way, her mum had taught her better. Her mum…

Abby’s heart clenched with homesickness. She ached for her mother’s arms to wrap around her, for the sound of her Uncle Bob’s laugh or Auntie Nat’s teasing.

She fumbled for her cell phone, tugging it clumsily out of her pocket before opening the little green app and dialing the now familiar long-distance number.

“Hello?”

“Dad’s getting married!” she nearly shouted down the receiver, despair coating every sound she uttered. “He got engaged to some blond woman who looks like she’s half his age!”

“Abby?” Charlie yawned. “What are you talking about?”

“I told you! The blond woman from this morning is wearing a rock the size of my head and hanging off of dad! She said that they’re getting married, and he confirmed it!”

“Wh…what? No! It…it’s not possible!”

“Except that it is! He told me it was happening whether I liked it or not!” Silence greeted her claim, and she felt that red hot rage start to creep in again. “Would you say something, please?”

“What do you want me to say, Abby?” Charlie whispered, and Abby could hear the tears in her voice. “Dad’s getting married, and he didn’t bother to even introduce her to me.”

Abby sighed, the anger dissipating as quickly as it came on. “I know…”

“But he loves mom!” Charlie groaned. “I know he does! You don’t shut down that often about a person if you don’t care about them!”

“He shut down on me today too,” Abby agreed. “But it’s not like I can just tell him that he loves her. He would never go for that.”

“Can you find something to prove it?” Charlie’s desperation was clear. “Something to remind him?”

“Like what?”

“I dunno…a photo? Their marriage license? Anything that might remind him of her?”

“Where would I even find something like that?”

“In the office in the stable.”

Abby looked around. “I’m there right now, I don’t see anything.”

“In the safe under his desk. Or in the filing cabinet. I don’t know the code to the safe or where he keeps the key to the cabinet though.”

Abby sighed. “I’ll figure it out. I’ll let you know what I find.”

“Thanks…I’m sorry you have to deal with that while I’m having fun with mum.”

“It’s okay. Do…do you think mum still loves dad?”

“Abby, all her adult books are about a military guy falling in love with the woman of his dreams and the obstacles that keep them apart.” Abby could practically hear the eye roll in her sister’s voice. “She either loves him or she doesn’t know what else to write about.”

“What if you’re wrong?”

“I…I don’t want to think about that. Find proof. I’ll find proof too. Then we’ll tell them about the switch.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Good luck.”

“You too,” Abby hung up the phone with a sigh before turning to face the little black safe that was tucked under her father’s desk.

“Alright, you…what could your combination be?”

She cycled through the obvious choices first: Jake’s birthday, her and Charlie’s birthday, her father’s military employee number, her great-grandfather’s number. With a wish in her heart, she even tried her mother’s birthday, but no such luck. So, she tried less obvious combinations. Javy’s birthday was a no-go, as was Rooster’s. Her grandmother and grandfather were also a bust. And it turned out that Jake Seresin was not the type of guy to use 1-2-3-4-5-6 as his combination.

“C’mon…c’mon, what are you?” Abby grumbled.

“Try 02-14-19.”

The sudden voice made her shriek and lurch away from the safe, turning to see her uncle chuckling from the doorway.

“Uncle Roo…you frightened me!”

“I frightened you, huh?” He sauntered forward, kicking the door shut behind him. “See, two months ago you would have said ‘You scared the crap out of me’ or ‘I’m gonna get you back for that, Chicken!’ Not, you frightened me.” He perched himself on the edge of the desk. “My girl Charlie doesn’t talk like that. She knows the words, smart as a whip that kid is, but being around a bunch of air jockeys on a ranch didn’t exactly lend itself to 20-point words like frighten.”

She felt the blood rush to her cheeks. “W-what do you mean? I’m Charlie. Did you hit your head or something?”

“See, now that is something Charlie would say. You almost had me. But Lovebug doesn’t shy away from Charlie. Never has, never will. And Javy could almost make Charlie an assistant coach with how much she helps him out with his playbook…but not you. You don’t seem to know the first thing about football.” He fixed her with a stern look. “You’re not Charlie…are you, Abby?”

The dam inside her—the one that had been holding back all her fears and anger about her father’s surprise engagement, and the ache of her homesickness—broke and the tears burst forth. Quickly, she buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

She heard a heavy sigh before she was wrapped in a hug, strong arms pulling her against a lean body.

“S’alright, kid. I’m not gonna tell anyone.”

She pulled back slightly, trying to meet Rooster’s eyes but he kept them firmly on the ceiling. “R-really?”

He shrugged. “I figure you and Charlie have your reasons for this insane switch. Where the hell did you two meet, anyway?”

“Camp…” she hiccupped. “P-Penny invited both of us at the same time.”

Rooster sighed, but there was the slight twang of a chuckle hidden inside it. “Yeah, that sounds like Penny. She was pretty pushy about me mentioning the camp to your dad. Shoulda known she was pulling a Maverick level stunt.”

“Y-you’re not mad?”

“Nah…” he shrugged, releasing her and sitting back on the edge of the desk again while Abby straightened in the desk chair. “Just, tell me one thing. Is Charlie okay?”

Abby nodded. “She’s in London with my mum, Uncle Bob and Auntie Nat. She’s having a grand time.”

Rooster nodded thoughtfully. “So, what is the plan?”

Abby bit her lip. “Get to know our other parent, tell them about the switch at the end of the week, force them to meet to switch us back, and have them fall in love with each other again so that we don’t have to live with an ocean in between us again?”

Rooster sighed; his eyes drifting shut as his head rolled back. “Jesus…”

“Are…are you going to tell dad?”

She held her breath as his eyes opened again, this time turning to her with a fixed determination that sent a shiver down her spine.

“No…I’m not.”

“Really? But…why?”

Rooster shrugged. “One, because making your dad’s life a living hell is still one of the greatest pleasures of my life. Two, I always thought that the way your parents handled the divorce was wrong. Hell, I think they never should have gotten divorced at all. And three, Savannah pisses me off and I don’t think I’ll be able to keep living here if your dad actually goes through with it.”

“So…what does that mean for me?”

“It means, I’m gonna help you. And so will Javy.”

Tags List: @mamachasesmayhem @jessicab1991 @waltermis @buckysteveloki-me @allepaula @yuckosworld @seresinsbrat @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @kim-stark @cierra715 @high-speed-r @helpmepleasethanks @starsrfun @tomanyfandomstrash @averyhotchner @the-blueatlas @princessliz86 @dashes-dizzydisaster @a-girl-who-loves-disney @boiolay @djs8891 @torimcc @tgmreader @kmc1989 @landpiranha-blog @sydthekid1518 @lynnevanss @hello7442 @mackenzieblair @minejungwoo @starset21 @ssa-sadboi @tgmavericklover @dempy @rockbottomphilosophies-blog @lovemarvelousfics @starkleila @magical-spit @whatislovevavy @simplyreading96 @vivalas-vega @itsdesiree86 @inky-sun @books-are-escapes @abaker74 @devil-angel-winchester @mrs-perfectly-fine

#jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #parent trap au #glen powell #as you wish fic #jake hangman fic #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman x you

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delaber · 1 year

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Side Effects (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Summary: Not remembering what falling in love feels like, Bucky thinks the side effects of the serum have finally caught up with him.

Words: 2K

Just another fluffy fluffshot 💕 (does contain 18+ only themes)

It's a weird feeling, he can't let go of it. Definitely something he hasn't felt for quite some time. Eighty years maybe, perhaps longer - if ever.

At first, he thinks he's finally feeling some delayed side effects of the serum, the way his heart constantly hammers in his chest for absolutely no reason, how the blood rushes past his ears every time he sits down for dinner and immediately loses his appetite, how he's started downright fumbling with his switchblade during training sessions, the constant buzzing in his brain so he can't concentrate at all.

He's asked Steve about it, but he's not feeling anything out of the ordinary, and now, full of regret, Bucky cannot escape the constant worried glances even though he has assured his best friend repeatedly that nothing's wrong.

...at least he doesn't think so.

Then comes the weird behaviour from Wanda who starts smiling at him more and more mysteriously, constantly fixing him very specific seats at the dinner table, inviting him out for all sorts of team-evenings even though she damn well knows he won't participate. And to Bucky's annoyance, it doesn't take Sam long before he too picks up on it and starts sending him the same type of irritating looks.

He starts wondering if the side effects make him look… different? Loopy? As goddamn weird as he feels? Maybe they're silently worried he's losing his marbles too? He reckons he could just ask them what the fuck is going on, but he really doesn't want to give Sam the satisfaction. So, he ignores them as much as he can, silently fearing what side effect might show its ugly face next.

He keeps mostly to himself for a few days - and it seems to make him feel a little bit better - but when Steve urges him to come down for movie-night, he knows he must say yes so he won't arouse even more suspicion with his best friend. So Bucky reluctantly accepts.

It works. Steve looks bright and happy as Wanda places Bucky on the couch between you and Steve, and even Bucky must admit, that he could have been assigned a worse seat. For once, he's actually happy he came out for movie-night as he quietly agrees with your whispered ramblings about what you find dumb with the movie that Wanda picked, but when Natasha shushes you and you laugh and lean close to him, popcorn-stuffed mouth and all, the next weird side effect comes to life.

You have your full attention turned on him and suddenly Bucky feels his facial muscles contract and the skin around his eyes crinkle as he involuntarily bares his teeth in... a smile? Oh God, a genuinely happy smile accompanied by a low, dopey chuckle. He almost scares himself, and he's happy that the only person that can make out his goofy expression in the dark is you, and that you don't make a fuss about it but just smile even brighter as you interlock your arm with his, face slowly turning back to the screen. It makes his heart pound so wildly that he can't even hear the sound effects of the fighting scene over the fear that he's about to go into cardiac arrest.

Firmly believing that he's definitely losing it now, he retreats to his room and shuts the door close behind him, sending a confused Steve away when he stops by a few hours later.

As he lies alone in the dark, he can't stop thinking about your soft hands on his tainted skin no matter how hard he tries to concentrate on anything else. It makes his heart squeeze tight and ease up at the same time, and he's not sure if he likes it or not, but at least he doesn't feel like he's having a heart attack anymore.

He goes back to barricading himself in his room, worrying about his declining sanity to such an extent that the intruding thoughts invite nightmare after nightmare to occupy his already rattled mind. For a few days, it seems to go around in an endless loop of fear and frustration, but then, one morning, while he's doing his breathing exercises in the bathroom mirror, the all-consuming nightmare is easily pushed away by the abrupt realisation that he looks like shit.

Weird, he can't even remember the last time he cared as much as a ripe fig about what he looked like, but now he suddenly cannot believe he's kept his hair this greasy and unkempt for so long. He looks older, less attractive, a shadow of the charming man he'd once been, so with new-found purpose to start looking just half-decent again, he quickly undresses and jumps in the shower, borrowing half a tube of Steve's 3-in-1 shampoo, nightmare already long forgotten.

The newly washed, weirdly voluminous mop on top of his head makes Sam laugh annoyingly loud, and he calls Bucky Goldilocks for days.

It takes everything inside him to not sock Sam in the kisser, and he's on the verge of vowing to never lather his stupid hair with shampoo again, but one morning while he's sitting alone at the kitchen counter drinking his morning coffee, Bucky feels a small hand slowly rake its tiny fingers through his thick strands of unfamiliarly soft hair. With electricity coursing through his veins, he thinks to himself that Sam can stick it. That hearing you say he looks good while feeling your tiny fingers on top of his scalp is worth every Goldilocks-comment from Sam. So he starts washing his hair every other day, hoping to dear God that you'll do it again. He stops wearing his cap inside, and he makes sure to always put on a clean shirt. Suddenly, it's important to him to look presentable, though he cannot for the life in him figure out why.

For several weeks, it's a mystery, a totally weird obsession that's gnawing little holes in the cortex of his brain, driving him up the wall, until one morning he wakes up from the loveliest dream he's ever had. Still half-asleep, he hasn't been paying the dull tightness between his legs much attention until he accidentally brushes his hand over the area just to feel a bulge much more prominent than usual.

Immediately, his eyelids shoot up, and he grows dizzy from the quick awakening as he stares down at the unfamiliar sight that he honestly hadn't expected to ever see again. Not believing neither the feeling against his fingertips nor the unbelievable desire to be touched, he has to pinch himself just to make sure he isn't dreaming still, but the bulge in his boxers stays put. Up until that moment he'd otherwise been positive that he would remain broken for good. Not even in his many lonely and sleepless nights had he been able to get as much as a twitch out of his dick, and now he hasn't even done anything, and the erection's just staring straight at him, throbbing, and screaming, and begging to be touched.

Suddenly excited and yearning to feel some much needed release for the first time since 1943, he pushes down the fabric of his boxers and grabs himself by the root, immediately stroking his erection slowly, remembering what it used to be like; touching then stopping, fast then slow, cautious teasing then everything all at once. Anything to prolong the pleasure while thinking of cute, pebbled nipples and pretty, red little mouths.

"Ahh shit," he whispers to himself and lets his shoulders slump back down into the mattress beneath him so he can enjoy properly.

His thumb glides over the tip of his head while vibranium fingers massage his tighter-than-ever balls and his breathing runs uncontrolled at the sensation - and that's when it happens.

A spark! The beginning of a thought - a fantasy really - a set of familiar, wet lips wrapped tightly around him.

"Ah!" He's gasping with spit gathering at the corners of his mouth while thinking of you. Thinking of tiny fingers rolling his balls, running through his hair. Of hands touched to his elbow and the smell of popcorn hanging thickly in the air.

Lost in the feeling, he imagines the scent of your perfume, your cute little laugh, your kind nature, how you make him want to be a better man.

He fantasises about undressing you while holding you close to his chest. About lying you down on his mattress while showering the valley between your breasts with sensual kisses. About you pulling him so close he slides deep inside your inviting heat while you scratch at his back, and when he fantasises about the feeling of you orgasming around him and moaning his name in his ear, he lets go and violently comes all over his stomach and chest.

He stares at the ceiling for a while.

What the fuck was that all about? he contemplates when he's down from his high again, painfully aware that the mere thought of you just made him cum for the first time in nearly seventy-five years. Yet, he still cannot piece together the puzzle.

He sees you half an hour later, spatula perched on top of the kitchen counter as you flip a pancake using just the motion of the pan. You look excited to see him and you smile brightly, breathing his name so sweetly that the familiar side effect of his insides squirming comes to life.

…Funny, now that he thinks about it, the side effects started showing up around the same time as you did. The sweating, the heart pumping, the smiling, all the weird symptoms started the minute you sat down next to him and told him your name.

It dawns on him that it has continued to happen like that every time you're near. Every time his name spills from your lips. Every time you smile. His pumping heart doesn't even care if the smile is directed at someone else, it still skips a few beats. And he realises that for three months, he has been following you around like a puppy dog, doing everything he possibly can to get close to you.

He has told Tony Stark himself to fuck off when you were trying to gain the attention of the room. He has sat down next to you every night at dinner, listening so intently to whatever you've had to say that he's forgotten all about eating. He has skirted his eyes over you more times at practice than he's dared counting - more times than he has intended to. He's been lying sleepless at night, wondering what you might think of him - he has even started caring about his hair for crying out loud!

He's been so completely blindsided by his own heart because he's been devoid of any human connection for so long that he'd completely forgotten what this feels like.

Love, that is.

It's different from the love he feels towards Steve, that's more brotherly in nature. This is romantic love, full of the need to kiss, and to hold, and to protect, and to - gulp - fuck!

It's like an ice bucket's been dropped on his head. He cannot believe he hasn't seen it before. He's not sick, he's not dying, he's just completely and utterly in love.

And even Sam has realised?! That's without a doubt the worst part. How's he ever going to admit to that?

It's with heated cheeks and shaking legs that Bucky occupies the seat opposite you at the kitchen counter, quietly complimenting you on the lovely smell of your breakfast. He feels stupid but he has to say something, doesn't he?

An eternity of worried, silent seconds follow, but when you finally put down the pan and look up at him, it's with a smile as if he's hung the stars, and the moon, and the fucking sun itself in the sky.

His heart stops.

And that's when it truly dawns on him. Pulse suddenly springing back to life and pounding faster than ever before, he knows what he has to do. He has to make you his.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you

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mountsverse · 5 months

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you can hear it in the silence

summary: you and mason are best friends, but he finds you heartbroken and can't contain his true feelings for you any longer.

word count: 2k

notes: this is unedited i'm so sorry, hope it's not too bad... masterlist here

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⋆ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

pushing open the door to your apartment, you uncaringly dropped your handbag on the floor. audibly groaning, you stepped out of your heals and shut your door behind you. after a long night of arguing, and evident tears, you wiped an eye with the back of your hand. you had been seeing a guy, much to the dismay of your best friend mason, and tonight had been the tipping point. he had shown up to your date in a sour mood, creating tension so thick you had just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. deciding to take the high route, not wanting to perpetuate his already bad mood, and completely ruin your own, you remained silent. you sat through dinner, hours of mumbled conversation and poking at your food. the night was mostly tame until he had decided he'd had enough, asking you why you, had been in a bad mood. confusion filled your features as you explained that it had been him who had put a damper on the night. all he'd down was dismiss you, his mind set on the fact that he had done nothing wrong. when he mentioned your best friend, you were shocked.

"is this because of mason?" he demanded, "i know he doesn't like me, but he could mind his business every now and again?... he likes to stick his nose in it, doesn't he?"

you swallowed, completely in disbelief that mason's name had made it into your argument. "this has nothing to do with him, and everything to do with you!" you felt a sudden need to defend him, "and leave him out of it, don't talk about him like that," you spoke back, hands balled into small fists at your sides.

your boyfriend scoffed, "oh please! everyone with eyes see's the way he looks at you! anyone would be plain stupid to think he doesn't want a taste!"

jaw dropped, you stood up, pushing your seat away from the table as you gathered your bag, "fuck you! that's a real nice way of talking about your girlfriend," your eyes tickled with tears before you added, "forget it, we're done," you spat before tearing a couple of notes out of your purse and placing them on the table. turning from him, you angrily walked out of the restaurant.

once the cold manchester breeze hit you, you regretted coming outside. you hated living in the uk during the colder months, you could hardly handle it.

"fucks sake," you muttered, the warmth of your breath visible in the cold air, creating a faint fog as you spoke. fumbling around in your bag until you finally secured your car keys, a couple of tears spilled from your eyes as your finally unlocked your car and jumped into the drivers seat, so desperate to get home.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⋆ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

the whole way home, your phone buzzed, receiving texts from numerous friends, and mason. you had told him you were going out tonight, and thus, he was checking in to make sure you had gotten home safe and sound.

you ignored all the texts, and the couple of calls mason had tried to make. scrubbing off your face of makeup, and putting your hair in a horrible attempt of a messy bun, you stumbled over to bed, ready to forget the events of the day and move on tomorrow. you knew as soon as you allowed yourself a minute to think, you'd be a puddle of tears. it's not like you and your boyfriend were anything serious, but you weren't a girl that was nonchalant with her feelings. you wouldn't lie and say you weren't devastated about the events of the night and the sudden and extremely unexpected breakup. it hurt, and you wouldn't deny that. especially not to mason, who you knew would poke and prod at you before you spilled every single detail about your night from hell.

just as you were about to get into your inviting sheets, you heard a knock on your door. you flinched, partly afraid your boyfriend had shown up in an attempt to hash things out.

you froze, not moving from your room, hoping whoever was knocking would get the hint and go away.

"come on, i know you're in there..." you could barely hear his words, but they hit you like a slap in the face. "open up," he added, his voice sounded gruff and tired.

you let out a deep breath, walking over to your apartment door with heavy feet. reluctantly, you placed a hand over the handle and twisted it open.

when the door swung inward, mason was in the middle of knocking, his fist just about to tap on the door once more. only then, did you register his features. he looked exhausted, which worried you because today was one of his only days off in a week. he hadn't had training, but maybe he'd had a long day too?

"mason, what are you-" you continued taking him in, looking over him for anything peculiar. "what are you doing here? are you alright?" you asked, concerned. as your stepped out of the doorway, you welcomed him into your apartment.

mason stepped in, following your direction. you quietly closed the door behind, cautious of the fact that it was getting late.

"thought i was gonna have to stand out there forever," he groaned, his shoulders sagging in relief, however that was short lived when he refocused his attention on you. "what are you doing?" his english accent coming through strong, "not answering my texts?" he raked a hand through his hair, something it looked like he was doing all night based on the state of his brown locks, "and my calls!" he added.

"i-" you choked, "i'm sorry, mase," you said quietly, "i was just really tired, okay? i just wanted to get home and get to sleep," you explained, gesturing at your pyjamas, in comparison to mason who was fully dressed.

"too tired to type? come on! you know that sounds so stupid," he said, a sarcastic chuckle escaping his lips. "i was worried, y/n" mason added, his voice more tender as his eyes scanned you, checking for any signs that you were lying about just being tired.

you groaned, annoyed, "well you don't need to be! no one needs to worry about me, okay?" your fists once again balled at the sides of your body.

mason matched your annoyance, clearly not happy that you had been ignoring him all night. "how can i not worry when i knew you were supposed to be going out with that moron?" he scoffed, "you know none of us trust him," he referenced the opinions of your shared friends, "so god forbid i got worried when you didn't reply for hours when you're supposed to be with him..." he trailed off, angry.

your hands remained balled into fists, you looked up at mason who was easily a good few inches taller than you. "well thank fuck that it's over then, huh?" you shrugged, feigning indifference. "no one will need to worry about him again, because it's over, we're over... you lot can throw a party if you'd like," you flailed your hands in the air dismissively.

the corners of your eyes stung with tears, and a sense of embarrassment swirled in your chest. "are you happy now, mason?" you shrugged helplessly.

"what?" he asked, dumbfounded, confusion written all over his face.

"i said, are you happy, mason?" you repeated.

"no, before that... what did you say?" he clarified.

"i broke up with him," you said quietly, eyes refusing to settle on him, wandering around the room.

mason was silent. he didn't know what to say to you, in all honesty he wanted to pick you up and twirl you around the room in happiness. but he knew he couldn't do that, it was insensitive for one, and also inappropriate. he struggled to find a response, the words drying in his throat.

"really?" he asked, his voice raw.

"yes. okay?" a couple of tears fell from your eyes, "so you can go now, alright?... there's nothing to worry about," you spat, wanting him to leave, so he wouldn't witness the way you were about to fall apart in a heap of tears and embarrassment.

"i'm-" he gulped, "i'm not going anywhere, y/n," he said sternly, "stop telling me to go," he demanded.

"why not? you all got what you wanted, the show's over," you spoke softly, the tears flowing freely now as you tried to swat them away with your palms.

mason closed the gap between the two of you, his hands froze between you as he reached out to touch you. he chewed the inside of his cheek, nervously. "i'm so sorry," he began, a hand darting out to tuck a tuff of your hair behind your ear. "i had no idea... believe me, or-" he choked, clearing his throat before continuing, "i wouldn't have come here, all worked up," he clarified, continuing to tidy up your hair, pushing it away from your face.

you closed the remaining space between the two of you, your arms reaching out to wrap around his torso, as the tears spilled from your eyes.

"we don't have to talk about it..." he said quietly, a string of swear words escaping his lips. "he's such an arsehole, you know that?" he said, his tone firm.

you held onto mason tightly, resting your cheek against his chest. you gently nodded your head in agreement. "i was stupid for thinking he was anything but an arsehole," you hiccuped, one of your hands trying desperately to rid your cheeks of the tears you'd cried.

mason shook his head, dismissing your comment, "no more crying," mason glanced down at you, and he could've sworn he felt his heart crack at the sight, "i don't wanna see your tears," he said softly into your hair, before muttering something you failed to catch.

"what?" you asked him, as you couldn't hear what he had said.

"if it was me, i'd make sure you'd never shed a single tear... unless it was a happy one," he spoke, unsure if you would be able to hear it this time.

"mason..." his name caught in your throat, as the severity of his words hit you.

"shhhh" he hushed you, a hand stroking your hair as he continued "you know i worship the ground you walk on," he whispered.

your tears had stopped and the only sound breaking the silence between the two of you was your soft breathing.

"what are you talking about?" you finally asked him.

"you know what i'm saying, y/n. if you were mine... i could- i would," he confirmed, "treat you so much better," he spoke.

"where is this coming from?" you asked quietly, looking up at him, searching his eyes for the truth.

"it's not coming from anywhere, it's always been here..." he replied, looking down at you. "i waited for you..." he said softly, "i've let you do your own thing, and i admit i've been a coward," he explained.

one of mason's hands moved to take one of yours, holding your hand within his own. "i never-" he paused, trying to find the words to explain how he'd been feeling, "i've always been here, right here... and i guess you've never noticed it, but y/n... you're my best friend," he blinked, taking your silence as permission for him to continue.

the look on his face was almost unrecognisable, one you had never seen him give you before. but one you had seen him give to others... other girls. but this time, it was different. there was something different in his eyes, a sense of need.

"i love you," he finally got out, his words almost too quiet for you to hear.

he was in love.

you let out a ragged breath, unsure of what to say before the words came spilling out, "mason i-" a hundred thoughts were rushing through your mind before your hands reached out to cup his face, pulling him down to your level.

you pressed your lips against his in a haste kiss, desperate to show him that you felt the same way, but had no idea how to put it into words. pulling away from him, your hands remained on either side of his face as you spoke, "i love you too, mase."

#mason mount fluff #mason mount imagine #mason mount x reader #mason mount fanfic #football imagine #football x reader #mason mount one shot #mason mount blurb

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tea-stained-notes · 11 months

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Benedict Bridgerton x Reader – One Last Summer

Y/N is many things: Daphne's best friend, gifted artist, new money, honorary Bridgerton – and hopelessly in love with Benedict. But when she finds herself suddenly engaged to a brutish army captain stationed in India, she is faced with the loss of everything she has grown to adore. With time running out, one last visit to Aubrey Hall will decide her fate.

Months ago I had a random phase of obsessing over Benedict Bridgerton (don't we all at some point) and dove head-first into this – then somehow took an eternity to finish it. It's angsty af, but don’t worry, there’s also plenty of Bridgerton shenanigans and tooth-rotting fluff because Benny is too adorable for this world

Warnings: angst and anxiety

Word Count: ~8400

A warm summer breeze caresses my heated skin as I finally emerge from the carriage and lay eyes on Aubrey Hall. Lush flowers and greenery adorn the inviting front and I am still taking in the sight when I notice Eloise and Penelope rounding the corner, the Bridgerton sister gesticulating in what must be one of her political rants. Behind them, Gregory and Hyacinth emerge, chasing each other and screaming in delight. My stomach swoops at the sight – how I have missed them all. “Good morning!” I call over to them, waving with an excitement I would scarcely allow myself to display anywhere else. But here, everything is different. Has always been different.

“Y/N!” They all rush over to me, enveloping me in hugs and chattering over each other. “Finally! It’s been ages!” “Daphne has been insufferable without you around!” “Come play with us!” I laugh, begging them for a moment to breathe after the journey. Daphne appears in the entryway, closely followed by Violet. I walk quickly towards my best friend, arms wide open. “Daph!” “Oh thank Goodness you have made it!” She hugs me tightly, her familiar perfume mingling with the smell of grass and sun-warmed skin. “Have you been playing croquet without me?” “Oh, has Anthony already come moaning to you about his well-deserved loss?” “I can smell it on you, along with your smugness” I say with a grin. “And your brother has grown quite even-tempered since the wedding.” “Well, unfortunately he is still the sorest loser I know.” “Which is a feat in itself amongst this competitive bunch,” Violet says with a twinkle in her eyes before taking my hands in hers and looking me up and down. “Welcome back, darling. You look thin, please do not tell me that you’re trying to fit into one of those outrageous wedding gowns that seem to be made for dolls.” I wince at the mention of my upcoming nuptials but hastily cover it up with a chuckle. “Quite the opposite, at the last fitting my seamstress was rather disgruntled that she would have to take in the waist even further. It is just a bit of a nervous stomach, with all the impending change.” “But as a young bride you should be more happy than nervous, no?” “Mama,” Daphne scolds softly, while Eloise openly rolls her eyes. “I suppose I should.” “Why not at least wait until dinner with such questions?” comes a voice from my right, “Your forwardness single-handedly erodes our renowned British reserve.” I grin at Colin before pulling him into a hug and ruffling his coiffed hair. Being a year older, I have always indulged in playing big sister with him. He sighs in feigned annoyance. “I was going to say that it’s good to see you but I am already regretting that sentiment.” “Liar,” I snicker. Violet’s glance dances between us. I believe she once suspected a blossoming romance between Colin and me, but while I love him dearly as a surrogate brother, he has never made my heart flutter. Not that I could have ever betrayed poor Penelope anyway, whose bright eyes are locked on him as always. And not that I would ever actually marry a Bridgerton. I may have dared to dream of it ten years ago, when I first met Daphne and immediately became fast friends with her despite our age difference. When her family welcomed me into their home with such fervour and warmth that I could hardly believe my luck. With my mother having died from influenza when I was little and no other siblings to grow up with, the Bridgertons became the family I could have never imagined for myself. And the idea of marrying into it one day, of making my bond with them all official, that was the greatest aspiration I could envisage. But the one brother who has always fascinated me is nowhere in sight and I try to be glad for it. “Come, let’s get you settled before the rest of the battalion descends upon you.” Daphne pulls me inside while I give a grateful smile to the servants hurrying after us with my luggage. “So where is your charming husband?” I ask as we ascend the staircase. “And little Amelia? I have been dying to see her again.” “Simon was held up by business, he will arrive in a few days. And the little one is in the gardens with her nanny. I will call for some lemonade and once you have freshened up, we shall go out to see her and catch up. You have so much to tell me.” “I last saw you two months ago and we write constantly,” I laugh. “But all the things that have happened in those two months! Your engagement first and foremost. I simply must know everything, I certainly require more detail than the few lines from your letters.” My insides squirm at her eagerness but I manage a somewhat enthusiastic nod. She comes to a stop in front of a door. “Your usual guest room is having some work done, so I had my old room prepared for you – I hope you don’t mind.” “Not at all, it will be nice, I haven’t been in there since your wedding.” “And Mama has kept it exactly the same, you know how sentimental she gets.” Daphne sounds teasing yet her smile is nothing but fond. She gives me another hug. “I am so glad you are here. I’ve missed you. We all have.” “And I have missed you.”

Once my bags and I are safely inside, I inhale deeply and take in the stillness for a moment. Arriving at any Bridgerton residence always feels like being caught in a whirlwind and as much as I love them all, it can be overwhelming at times, especially after the often stifling silence of my own home. I wander over to the window, letting my eyes trail over the gardens, alive with an abundance of colours that makes my heart sing. Until it stops abruptly. There he is. Deeply lost in his brush strokes as he recreates the wonders around him. His vest is unbuttoned, his shirt carelessly gaping open at the top, his sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms. Even from afar, Benedict Bridgerton ignites a well-known fire inside of me. Whenever I am away from him, I can almost convince myself that this age-old infatuation is nothing but a figment, a silly flight of fancy. Sometimes I can almost forget about him entirely, distract myself with my artistic pursuits, with other friends or travel. But then I notice a piece of melody flowing from my fingers that somehow reminds me of him or look down at a drawing in surprise, having unconsciously once again traced his familiar features. Still I repress it, abandon the fantasy of someone so far above my station. Someone who sees me as a family friend and nothing more. And now that I am engaged to be married I should purge my mind of him entirely, yet especially in these last few weeks I have scarcely thought of anything else, convinced that my longing could not possibly grow stronger. But the mere tangibility of him unravels me completely. I long to rush downstairs to see him and at the same time it is the one thing I fear the most. After a long moment I tear my gaze away and turn to the washing bowl. To my dismay, the cool water does little to calm my racing pulse and thoughts. Clean and unpacked I head towards the door, but halt half-way. Because as always, when I am in Daphne's room, my eyes fall on the painting of us. It is wonderfully serene, the two of us sitting on a picnic blanket in the gardens. She is engrossed in a book, but I am looking over my shoulder, smiling softly at the artist. It was Benedict of course. I remember vividly how I turned around to find him crouching with a sketchbook in his hand, capturing the scene in quick strokes. His face lit up and he winked at me before deftly outlining my expression. Later he transferred the motif onto a proper canvas, so I never got to see the original sketch. I have always wondered whether I had really looked at him like that. So openly enamoured.

I wander down the halls towards the open French doors leading into the garden when a voice pulls me from my reverie so suddenly I almost trip over my feet. “There you are.” I look up only to be met with a dazzling smile, gleaming eyes and a hint of spicy aftershave in the air. My stomach drops. “Mr. Bridgerton.” His smile falters briefly. He always insists on me calling him by his first name, yet I have never been able to. When we met he was already eighteen, a grown man at first sight. It had felt only right to address him with the same courtesy as his older brother. And even as we grew closer, as I learned of his boyish temperament, often bordering on immaturity, I never found the courage to simply call him Benedict. If only to keep up the semblance of a wall between us, a desperate attempt at shielding my heart. Not that I have ever succeeded in that endeavour. “Everyone’s been speaking of your arrival. How wonderful you have found time to join us.” “The pleasure is all mine, as always,” I reply, ignoring the pull in my chest. “Have you finished your painting?” I gesture at the art supplies in his arms. “Not quite, but I’m afraid duty calls. Some business I need to talk over with Anthony.” “Ah, I too have an enormously urgent appointment with your sister.” We share a light chuckle. “I am sure she has scheduled three hours at the least to learn all about your… plans.” The word comes out strangely forced but he catches himself quickly. “Will I see you at dinner?” “How could I ever miss one of Mrs. Brodie’s delicacies? I have had actual dreams of her rosemary chicken.” “You are not a true Bridgerton until you’ve had one of those dreams,” he says with a grin but it wavers slightly as the words sink in. He knows as well as I do that no number of dreams will ever make me a true Bridgerton. I swallow thickly before putting on a smile. “If you will excuse me, I am quite parched after the journey and Daphne has promised lemonade.” “Oh, of course, yes. Don’t let me keep you.” “Goodbye, sir.” “Until tonight, Y/N.” Something in his tone, in the way his lips curve around my name, sends shivers down my spine. With a swift curtsey I turn and practically run out into the open air.

I manage to ward off Daphne’s inquisition well enough. Yes, Captain Parker will be able to provide for me. Yes, he is handsome. Yes, my father approves of him. Luckily, we are regularly interrupted by the various Bridgerton siblings and distracted by little Amelia who is perfectly content as the centre of attention. “I am quite certain one day she will be the diamond of the season,” I declare, ruffling her hair. “Do you really think so?” Daphne is all too happy to swoon about her firstborn and I gladly steer the conversation away from my upcoming wedding. Eventually, I propose another game of croquet, having missed the previous one, and before long the dinner bell is rung. Everyone settles into the dining room and I sink into a comfortable chair, Daphne and Eloise on either side, Benedict across from me. I only notice now that we have always been seated like this during my visits and wonder if it was I who once sought out this particular arrangement. He quickly engages me in a conversation about art and music, the topics that have always connected us, and minute by minute I grow more comfortable in his presence. We fall into passionate discussions and light-hearted banter, only occasionally intercepted by the others around us. And I cannot help pondering if he has ever felt it, too. The sparkling potential between us. The mere idea of what we could have been. No matter how unrealistic, as long we were both unwed, a tiny part of my heart remained reserved for that hope. And every time I arrived at the manor to find him seemingly carefree about the future and with no bride in sight, I was flooded with relief, simultaneously blessed and cursed to hope for a little longer. Until a few weeks ago when those dreams were finally shattered. “So, are you looking forward to India?” Colin suddenly asks. “I would love to visit you there sometime, it must be incredible.” “Surely it would not be proper to interrupt their honeymoon,” Benedict says, somewhat strained. “Oh, it’s not for our honeymoon,” I reply. “My… Captain Parker will be permanently stationed there.” Benedict’s fork clatters onto the plate and we all flinch, the chatter around the table coming to a halt. “You will move to India?” He has gone frighteningly pale. “Yes. Has Daphne not told you?” “I must have,” she sputters, “when I was last in Lon–“ “No, you haven’t.” His words come out unusually harsh and my stomach twists. Everyone is staring at either him or me and Daphne’s eyes flicker between us before she forces a casual smile. “Brother, don’t be silly, I am certain I have. And either way, I shall be the one to miss her the most, no?” She puts an arm around me while giving a pointed look at Kate who quickly collects herself and pulls Anthony and Violet into a chat about their plans for the nursery. Slowly, the usual bustle recommences and I turn back to Colin. “Once we are settled in, you are more than welcome to visit. You all are, of course.” Benedict’s lips are pressed tightly together, his food forgotten.

I find little sleep that night, the image of Benedict imprinted on my mind. He seemed so genuinely upset. I expected him to miss me, of course, but the hint of melancholy I had detected in his features even before the revelation of my upcoming departure to India now haunts me. Losing him was always going to be torture but realising how it might affect him as well has doubled the pain and I start to regret this indulgence of coming to Aubrey Hall for one last summer. When the first sun rays filter through the half-opened curtains I inhale deeply, trying to infuse a little hope and joy into the beginning of this new day. And when Daphne surprises me with the idea of a relaxed breakfast in bed I almost believe it has worked. A while later we find ourselves in the parlour, Eloise engrossed in a book after Penelope’s earlier departure, Daphne rocking a fussy Amelia to sleep in her arms, and I sketching absently. I startle when Benedict walks in, slightly more dishevelled than usual. “Daph, Y/N. Just the pair I’ve been looking for.” “Good morning to you as well, dear brother,” Eloise says with a smirk. He bows excessively in her direction and I cannot help but smile at their antics. “Good morning, my darling sister.” They share a grin before he turns back to us. “I wanted to apologise for my little outburst at dinner. I was tired and the news took me by surprise.” He clears his throat. “I do hope you forgive me.” “Of course, sir,” I hasten to reply. “One could have almost suspected you of being jealous of a certain Captain Parker.” “Eloise!” Daphne chides but she too eyes her brother and me curiously. Before I can try to decipher either my feelings or his expression, Violet walks in, rubbing her hands enthusiastically. “Good morning, children! Who of you will kindly join us for a walk?” Daphne rises as Amelia starts crying once more and Violet immediately offers to take her. While they deliberate on the benefits of a walk for the baby, Benedict settles beside me, merely a few feet between us. I try to ignore the goosebumps forming on my skin at his soft smile. “May I?” He points at my sketchbook. I press it shut with hurried force. “No.” “Oh.” His face falls a little. “Forgive me, I did not mean to pry.” There is dejection in his eyes, but also confusion. I have always shared my sketches with him, just as my compositions, needlework and poetry. We have always valued each other’s opinions and advice. So naturally he is taken aback by my sudden reservedness. But how can I explain the shift from peaceful, colourful motifs to the utter gloom that has been dominating my sketches lately? The impending thunderstorms, the dark forests. And possibly worse, the countless drawings of him. Sometimes just his fingers, delicately holding a paintbrush, sometimes his entire silhouette, but mostly his boyishly handsome face that my eyes unerringly find the second I enter a room. If it scares me how much of my waking thought he is taking up – how much would it scare him? “I– I’m sorry, sir. I have not been feeling very… confident about my work lately.” “I can hardly believe that to be justified in any way. You have always possessed a raw talent I can scarcely dream of.” “That is not true.” “Well then, I challenge you.” Mischief sparkles in his eyes and an inadvertent giggle escapes me. “You mean it? We have not done that in ages.” “All the more reason to do it now.” “Y/N, are you coming?” Daphne calls across the room. “She is otherwise engaged,” Benedict grins before I can reply. “Is that so?” “Your brother has thrown down the gauntlet and I’m afraid I shall have to pick it up.” Daphne rolls her eyes, amusement playing on her lips. “Are you having one of your silly art competitions again? What is it this time?” “Portraits,” I say hastily. “We will paint each other. Fifteen minutes, as usual.” I wonder what possessed me to choose Benedict’s face as the subject, of all things. Most likely pure masochism. I do not dare gauge his reaction although I can feel his eyes on me. “Well, Amelia needs her walk now.” Daphne glances at the crying baby in Violet’s arms. “I suppose we shall see you both later. I’ll be happy to choose a winner then.” “You’re hardly impartial,” Benedict grumbles. “Neither are you when it comes to Y/N,” she retorts. Before I can begin to untangle her accusation she has breezed out the door.

Eloise is as bad a chaperone as ever, engrossed in her book a few yards away in the shade, while Benedict sets up his canvas beside me. Mine is leaning up against my chair. Despite my excessive practice I was not quite able to capture his essence. Perhaps because it felt so strikingly different from the other times he sat for me. I had asked him not to speak, as to not strain my jittery nerves even further, and he had obliged, albeit reluctantly. But with every passing second the silence between us grew heavier, along with his expression. It weighed down my piece of charcoal, making it impossible to find my usual ease in sketching. Just when I feared it might crumble between my tense fingers, Benedict murmured, “Time’s up” with a glance at his pocket watch. Before he could peek at the result I hurriedly asked for a lunch break which we spent with an unusually talkative Anthony. Now we have returned to our previous spot and he sets up his own work. “May I ask,” he says after the first few strokes, “why the quick engagement? Did you know immediately that he was the right man for you?” His jaw clenches while he firmly stares at the canvas. My hands grow clammy, clutching his watch tightly. “I could hardly afford such luxuries anymore. At four-and-twenty my chances of finding the ‘right’ man have been dwindling about as fast as my father’s faith in me receiving a proposal at all.” “You make yourself sound like an old spinster.” “Well, in the eyes of the ton I am. I should consider myself lucky to be engaged at last.” “But you don’t?” His eyes search mine intently until I drop my gaze, scared of what he might find in it. “Of course. Very lucky indeed.” Once more a long silence hangs between us. I suddenly feel impossibly tired. And as much as I want to blame the summer heat and sleepless nights, I know this weariness runs much deeper. The exhaustion of holding up the pretence that I am even remotely content with my lot. “Look at me, please,” Benedict murmurs and I follow his request without hesitation, taken aback by the deep concern in his features. He thanks me softly before resuming his quiet work. “Will you not be terribly lonely in India?” he finally asks. I bite my lip. “Not for long, I hope.” What I cannot say is that I am almost glad to go. To miss them all from so far away they will hardly feel real. To not see them fall in love and lead lives I will barely be a part of. To not sit and watch Benedict await his bride at the altar, breaking inside because it should be me walking down that aisle towards him. To not look at the children who have his wild hair and lopsided grin and not find a single trace of me in their faces. I blink away tears, desperate to change the subject before he manages to poke even more holes into my façade. “And what of your plans for the future, sir? Anything exciting on the horizon?” He pauses for a moment, seemingly debating whether to indulge me. “You will think me foolish, but lately I've been thinking about opening my own academy one day. One where your wealth and sex do not matter, where you are accepted on merit and passion alone. And perhaps when you are a personal friend of the owner.” He winks at me and I stare at him in feigned indignation. “Are you saying my merit and passion would not suffice?” “Not at all. If anything, you possess too much of both, so I would have to keep you in a private class as to not discourage the other students.” I glance down at my lap, hiding both my smile and the blush forming on my cheeks. “Well, I think, it sounds anything but foolish. You could grant opportunities to so many people who will never find them anywhere else. Promise you will write to me when that dream becomes a reality.” I look back up at him, surprised at the soft wonder in his eyes, then let mine travel down to his lips as they curve into a half-smirk. “When, not if? You flatter me.” “I believe in you. I always have. And I dearly hope that one of us will be allowed to live his dream.” Benedict swallows, all traces of mirth erased from his features. “Y/N, you–” “Time’s up,” I say, without a single glance at the watch. He bites his tongue while an entire palette of emotions flits across his face. “Here you are!” We both startle when Daphne appears beside me, placing her hands on my shoulders with a wide grin. “Brother, stop capitalising on my dear friend's time. She is my guest after all.” “And here I thought she liked to spend time with all of us,” Eloise comments and I suddenly wonder how much of our previous conversation she has eavesdropped on while appearing lost in her reading. The other Bridgertons trail behind Daphne, evidently tired from their stroll in the sun. Colin immediately snorts as he peeks at the canvas. “You cannot be painting Y/N again. Do you not have an entire portrait gallery of her already?” “Well, none of you little gremlins ever hold still for even a minute.” “I've sat for you plenty of times,” Daphne protests. “Yes, and you look like you'd rather hang every single time.” “Benedict!” Violet scolds gently. “Well, let’s see them then. You do need a few judges after all.” Despite my weak protests, both sketches are propped up beside each other a few moments later. The Bridgertons remain unusually quiet. “They are both fine works,” Violet says eventually. “But you two seem so…” “Gloomy,” Kate finishes. Everyone nods. “Did Eloise bore you with an excerpt from her book while you were drawing?” Colin quips and ducks as said book comes flying at his head. Within seconds the family is caught in familiar chaos and I let myself be dragged off to another lunch despite feeling so queasy I might never eat again. When I glance back at Benedict he only manages the barest of smiles.

The week and a half of my stay at Aubrey Hall passes in a turmoil of emotions. As much as I love spending time with the Bridgertons and try to fully revel in their company, it unnerves me. Feeling their observant eyes on me, the underlying tension in the air, I have been growing more short-tempered and nervous, increasingly avoiding the presence of the people I love the most to escape their questions, both voiced and unspoken. The portrait of Benedict lies buried in his studio. I could not bear having his charcoal eyes stare at me with the same apprehension as his soft green ones. Being around him has lost all the ease we used to share despite my infatuation. I am glad when Simon joins us, creating a distraction for Daphne and thus some room for myself. But no amount of wandering the familiar halls and gardens, hiding away in the library or furiously filling page after page of my sketchbook can calm my racing mind. Anxiety has nestled deep inside my chest, constricting my lungs and churning in my stomach. And then it arrives: My last day at the manor. They surprise me with a picnic under clear blue skies and despite my incessant sorrow it turns out rather lovely. Before long, the little ones are running around and I find myself pulled in all directions, playing and frolicking in the sun. The adults disperse as well, picking up games or strolling through the gardens in deep conversation. Eventually, I sink down onto a blanket next to Daphne and Amelia, out of breath and surprisingly cheerful. My friend looks over at me, a wistful expression on her face. “I hope you’ve been enjoying your time with us,” she says softly. “Of course,” I reply automatically. “I always do.” I let my eyes wander over the scenes around us and the despite the joy in the air, panic and despair once more rise in my throat. Cotton fills my ears, then my entire skin starts to tingle. And suddenly it comes crashing down on me. The intense finality of these last few days with the Bridgertons. The very real possibility that I might never return to Aubrey Hall, never again chatter with Daphne, joke with Colin, debate with Eloise. Never chase the younger siblings across the rolling greens or laugh at a seething Anthony after an eventful croquet match. Never have a single moment alone with Benedict. I have been a fool for believing that distance would make me miss them all any less. Because at this moment I am certain that I will be longing for these days for the rest of my life. Still, the sob that rips from my mouth takes me by surprise. “Y/N?” Daphne turns to me, little Amelia on her lap eyeing me warily. I want to reassure her but instead tears start flowing uncontrollably. “Oh my dear!” Daphne sets her daughter down on the blanket, then throws her arms around me. “Y/N, whatever is the matter?” I cannot find my voice for several minutes, overwhelmed by the most intense sorrow I have felt since my mother's passing. When I finally speak, the words come out raspy and broken. “I am going to miss you all so much.” “Well, how awful would it be if you didn't?” Daphne says, a half-smile on her lips but it fades as she inspects my face. “Is it more than that? Are you truly not looking forward to marriage at all? I know it can be daunting, Simon and I have had a rocky path as well, but now I cannot imagine a life without him.” “Because you love him!” The words come out rougher than intended and Amelia winces, her mouth curling into a frown. I quickly cradle her in my arms before she can start crying as well. Nuzzling her soft hair I avoid Daphne’s eyes. “You've always loved him, Daph. Even when you could not yet admit it to yourself, even when you did not know that he returned your feelings.” A tense pause stretches between us. “Do you truly believe you will never love Captain Parker?” she finally whispers. I bite my lip, unable to answer. “Y/N, why on earth did you accept his proposal if you cannot see a happy life with him?” I want to scream at her, want to rage at her naiveté, her inability to grasp the gravity of my situation. But I cannot. Not at my best friend who does not know and can never know how this engagement came about. “If you do not want this, I can help you,” she says softly now. “We will find a perfect match for you next season. Who knows, maybe even somewhere along the way until then?” Daphne attempts another soft smile and my tears start flowing again. If only it were this simple. She reaches for my hand while I am pressing Amelia closer with the other, relishing in her warmth and quiet babbling. “It pains me to see you like this. There must be something I can do. I realise that Anthony and I have been very lucky to have found our partners, but if it is not love that persuades you to marry, it should at least be mutual respect and fondness. I am certain we can find such a man for you, if only–” “No,” I say determinedly. “I am grateful to you, Daph, but it is too late.” “Too late because you're afraid to break off the engagement or because your heart is already taken?” I gasp. “Daphne–” “Is it someone I know?” “No, it's no one. There is no one.” I press a kiss to Amelia's head, then place her in her mother's arms. Wiping my face, I rise to my feet. “I am sorry for my outburst. Do forgive me. I just need a moment to myself.” “Y/N–” “Thank you for the picnic.” Brushing away fresh tears I flee the picture-perfect scene that now only breaks my heart.

Hours later everyone is bustling about in the parlour, impatiently awaiting dinner. I have claimed the piano in the corner and let my fingers wander over the keys, following a soft, melancholy tune. My gaze loses focus in the middle distance as I calculate the number of hours I have left here. There is no clock in the room and yet I can hear an unrelenting ticking. “Is that your latest composition?” I flinch before my eyes find Benedict's, his lacking their usual sparkle. “I– I am not certain...” I clear my throat and Daphne briefly glances over at me, worry in her features. “I'm still working on it.” “It's beautiful.” “You do not sound quite convinced,” I say with a weak attempt at a smile. “No, I mean it. Every piece you compose is beautiful. It's just... It sounds so deeply sad.” I suddenly sense how the atmosphere in the room has changed. Even the little ones have gone quiet, with everyone stealing looks of concern at me. “I am so sorry, I did not mean to ruin the mood. Please carry on.” I chuckle nervously and the Bridgertons are kind enough to return to their antics, albeit slightly forced. “Y/N, are you alright?” Benedict's voice is low but strained. I turn back to the keys, once more biting back tears. “Of course, sir. I am perfectly fine.” “You do not seem like yourself,” he murmurs. “You are usually.... softer. But also stronger. With such a zest for life. I've never seen you like this, so burdened, so sombre.” I raise my chin, attempting to look challenging rather than heartbroken at his astute observation. “And what about you, Mr. Bridgerton? These past few days you have hardly been the carefree man I've come to know.“ “Then you must know that you are the cause.” We both still. Blood is rushing in my ears as I try to steel myself for something I fear and crave in equal measure. But after a long moment he shakes his head, swallowing heavily. “I worry about you, Y/N. We all do. I know things have not always been easy for you but until now I believed our family could provide you with comfort. And if that is somehow no longer the case, surely the prospect of starting your own family should excite you.” I hopelessly rifle through my mind for an answer that might assuage him once and for all. “Dinner is ready, my lady.” I breathe a sigh of relief. “Wonderful!” Violet smiles at the servant who has appeared in the doorway, then claps her hands. Her offspring rises from floor and sofas, muttering about being starved while jostling towards the dining room. I stand up so quickly the piano stool topples over and I reach for it at the same time as Benedict. Our hands briefly touch in mid-air, sending a spark through mine before I can pull away. He stares at me, the ticking even louder than before. “Y/N, you must know that you can confide in me.” “There is nothing to confide, sir.” “Benedict.” My face runs hot at both the insistence on his first name and the multitude of my confessions boiling so close to the surface. His features soften as he subconsciously draws closer and I scramble to my feet, heart pounding wildly. “We should go, everyone is waiting.” Before he can reply I rush out of the parlour, pressing clammy hands to my cheeks to soothe the fire in them.

Dinner is strangely quiet and whenever I glance over at Benedict I find him already looking at me. For the millionth time this week I wonder if I should not have discredited his motives so quickly, should not have dismissed his attempts at forming a tighter bond between us for the fear of falling too far. Is it possible I might have misread him all these years? Too blind in my self-deprecation, too caught up in worries about money and class when he never seemed to care much for these things, when perhaps he could have easily seen beyond them? Should I have rather flown too close to the sun than never have flown at all? When the children have gone to bed I linger with the others, barely engaging in the conversation over drinks but unwilling to embark on the hours of anxious brooding in the dark ahead of me. Eventually, the yawns become more frequent and one by one the Bridgertons retire until at last Daphne and I make our way upstairs as well. I halt as we pass the library. “I’m not quite tired enough for bed. I am going to peruse the books for a while.” Daphne turns to me, deeply mournful. “Y/N, I so wish you would tell me what is going on.” I feel my bottom lip begin to quiver and shake my head vehemently. “I can’t.” “Why ever not? Are we not confidants? I have always told you everything.” “And I am so grateful for your trust and friendship.” I envelop her in a tight hug. “I will be alright. Do not worry about me.” “How can I not worry when my best friend is so clearly unhappy?” She draws back to examine me once more. “I have had my happiness. With you, with your family. That shall be enough. Not everyone finds a happy ending.” “But you so deserve it,” she says, grasping my hand. “Both you and–“ She stops herself abruptly. “Who?” “Never mind.” I want to ask again but nod instead. She seizes a candleholder from a side table and lights it with the flame of her own. “Take this. And don’t stay up too late. We will speak again in the morning.” “Goodnight, Daph.” I slip into the dark library and carefully close the door behind me. After a few deep breaths I walk around the room, lighting more candles, until I am startled by a soft knock. With a sigh I move to open the door. “Daphne, please, can we–“ The words die in my throat. Benedict stands before me, carrying a grave expression. “I need to speak with you.” “Sir, you have to leave,” I splutter. “What if someone sees us? Daphne might still be nearby.” “She was the one to tell me where to find you.” “What, why?” “Because she knows.” “Knows what?” A long pause. Then he carefully pushes past me and presses the door shut. I can do nothing but stare at him in disbelief. “Sir, you–“ “Are you fond of your...”, he clears his throat, “your fiancé?” “Excuse me?” “It's a simple question.” My chest tightens as panic once again seeps into my veins. “I am hoping I can learn to be.” His eyes burn into mine, brimming with concern. “Y/N, are you scared of him?” “Sir–“ “Benedict, please. Please.” “No. I– I'm sorry, I...” I am so tired of crying, so I bury my nails painfully into my palms to hold back the tears. Still, I am shaking before him. He slightly raises his arms, as if wanting to pull me into a hug, and I wish more than anything I could let him without risking to fall apart entirely. “You must break off the engagement.” “I can't.” “Y/N, you're terrified. That is not a life you're entering, it is torture. And it’s killing us to know that you are hurting, that you might not be safe – it’s killing me. Is he choleric? I swear, if he ever laid a hand on you, I–“ “He already has.” “What?” “At the midsummer ball. He seized me in the gardens and touched me... Kissed me. Lady Clementine saw us and reported to my father. Father claimed that we were engaged and thus we were.” Benedict has turned to the nearest bookshelf, lips in a tight line, knuckles white from grasping the wooden board like a vice. He is trembling and my stomach sinks even further. “Did you explain the situation to your father?” he presses through gritted teeth, eyes boring into the volumes before him. “Of course. But he is deathly afraid of scandal. Our standing in the ton is on such thin ice as is.” “That's not true.” “Yes, it is.” Frustration starts boiling within me, one that I have been harbouring since I first set foot into their manor on Grosvenor Square ten years ago. All this splendour, so nonchalantly taken for granted by the entire family. All those visitors so obviously enchanted by the grand Bridgertons, never questioning their rightful place in this world. “You have no idea what it's like. Your father wasn't just barely rich enough to gain some footing in the ton but not to provide you with an appealing dowry. You have never been an only child, never had to be scared that your family's legacy might crumble if you ever step out of line for even a second, even when it's not your fault!” I am vibrating with restrained anger but quickly run out of steam when his face falls along with his shoulders. “You're right,” he whispers. “Please forgive me.” “I have to apologise as well. You have been born with an array of privileges from your sex to your wealth but I know that you do not flaunt them. However, my options aren't as wonderfully unlimited.” I swallow thickly. “So you see, I cannot end this engagement. My already slim chances would be ruined, who else would make me an offer after this?” “I would.” His reply is immediate, certain, and it crashes into me without warning. My mouth is dry, every nerve in my body alight. “That is incredibly kind, but I could never accept.” My voice nearly fails me. “You deserve a grand life, Benedict.” His eyes widen at the name finally spilling from my lips where I have kept it hidden for so long. “You will be a renowned artist, a gift for society in so many ways. And you deserve a woman you adore by your side, one who will never leave a stain on your good name.” “I have already found her.” His words hit me unexpectedly at first, an instant stab of jealousy in my chest. Then a lump forms in my throat as realisation sets in. A realisation I have never allowed and am not ready for still. “But I cannot seem to make her see that she has held my heart for an entire decade. That her smile and wit and artistic endeavours captivate me more and more with every passing year. That I could have lived with her romantic disinterest in me, had she found someone whose soul matches the beauty of hers.” “Benedict...” “That my name from her lips is the sweetest sound in the world.” “Please stop.” He pauses briefly. “Are you scared of me as well?” “Yes,” I blurt out, “I have been scared of you since the moment we met because you make me forget myself. You make me forget that you are entirely out of reach, that no matter how much I love you, I–“ My hand flies to my mouth, heart slamming into my ribcage. I stumble backwards while muttering senseless apologies. Benedict is stunned into silence. It feels like years pass between us. When he finally speaks, his words are hoarse and quavering. “You... You love me? All these years every advance of mine seemed futile because you thought–“ “Please forget everything I have said. Promise me you will.” “Forget? Forget the most wonderful words I have heard in my life?” “Benedict, I’m begging you…” I give into the tears at last. Whether they are born of desperation, frustration or simple pain, I can no longer tell. He walks towards me, a barely-contained storm on his face. “I refuse to live in a world where I do not hear you say my name every single day. Where I see you but once a year, your light slowly dimming in a loveless marriage. Carrying the children of that... bastard.” Now he is crying, too. “Please do not do that to yourself. Do not submit yourself to such misery. Whether you choose me or not, I will support you. I will do whatever I can to give you a good life. The life of an artist if you want it. That I can promise you. You will always have me.” He sinks down on both knees, his fingers carefully closing around mine. “And if you do choose me... I will do the same and more. I will give you everything I've held in for so long. My love for you will never falter.” I am frantically searching for reasons to deny him because none of this could ever be real, his skin on mine, his unbelievable offer in the air. My mind is reeling, trying and failing to catch up with everything that has transpired these past few moments. Years of dreams and longing, so briskly swept aside to reveal a glimpse at a reality that must be impossible because it always has been. “What would your family say?” I say shakily. “What would everyone say?” His hold on me tightens. “You know my family adores you and would accept you with open arms, no matter the circumstances. And I could not care less about anyone else. The gossip would die, it always does. Lady Whistledown would surely distract them with something else within a week.” A rivulet of hope trickles across my heart. “Could this... could this truly be?” “Tomorrow you will meet him in the city. All you have to do is talk to him one last time. I will be there if you want me to. Heavens, the entire Bridgerton clan will be there if you want us to.” We both chuckle through the tears. “You are not alone in this, Y/N.” I let his words sink in for a long moment. “And what if I choose you?” “Then we can go into town right after to pick out a ring and speak to the vicar.” His thumbs caress my knuckles reverently. “Will you? Will you do me the incredible honour of accepting my hand?” My knees buckle and I lower myself onto the floor before him. The blazing anxiety I have grown almost accustomed to has faded into glowing embers. After having wandered through hell for weeks, I find peace in his hopeful gaze, comfort in the soft contours I am so intimately acquainted with. A kaleidoscope of memories flashes before my eyes, all tinted in new colours. It has always been there, right in front of me: He loves me. And all I have ever had to do was say yes. “The honour would be all mine, Benedict Bridgerton.” A strangled noise escapes him before his eyes frantically scan my face as if they might find a single trace of doubt there. They could never. Not anymore. His hands come up, hovering beside my cheeks. “God, I really want to– Is it alright if I–“ “Yes!” He grins, breathless and blushing. “I haven't even–“ I lunge forward and press my lips to his. It is clumsy and overwhelming but also everything I have ever wanted. He almost tumbles over in surprise, but seconds later we are completely entangled, seeking each other's mouth over and over. Heart pounding, skin aflame, I am certain this is the happiest I have ever been. Because while my body nearly gives out with the strange exhilaration of it all, I also feel perfectly safe. As if this is exactly where I belong, where everything finally makes sense. In between kisses he whispers my name like a confession of love. It is from his lips. When we finally part for air we stare at each other with endless wonder, then start smiling deliriously. I reach out to cradle his face in my palm and he leans into it with a sigh. “Ben,” I murmur, the name unfamiliar but sweet in my mouth. He beams at me. “Come here, darling.” Without hesitation I let him pull me into his lap, just as desperate to be close. I no longer care if anyone finds us like this, am no longer terrified of scandal. Not when I know for certain that I will marry the love of my life, unfazed by gossip and propriety. I nestle into the crook of his neck, deeply inhaling his scent, revelling in the warmth and solidness of his chest. His arms encircle me as I feel his heartbeat slow. Knowing it was I who made it race in the first place fills me with a fervent glow. “Do you have the slightest idea how incredible you are?” I say quietly as I lean back a little to look at him. “I cannot believe you would have provided for me if my father had turned me away.” “Without hesitation. You're everything to me, Y/N.” “What would your future wife have said?” “I cannot imagine there ever would have been a wife.” My eyes widen. “Oh Benedict…” “Never mind that.” He gives me a half-smile. “I would have had my family. And hopefully you in some way still.” My heart aches for the unhappy people we would have almost become and I pull him in for another kiss, assuring him and myself that will never be us. Then I am hit with one more realisation. “Wait, when you said that Daphne ‘knows’, did you mean...?“ “About my utter adoration for you? Sweetheart, they all know. Always have. You were the only one who never seemed to see.” “But no one ever–“ “I made sure they wouldn’t bring it up. Although you can imagine how excruciating it was for them.” “But why? Maybe one of them could have pulled me out of my head for once.” He gently caresses my face. “I wanted you to find your own way. Whether it would lead to me or not.” My heart swells with love as I lean my forehead against his. “Thank you,” I whisper. “For waiting. For saving me from myself. For everything.” “You have always been worth it.” We once again lose ourselves in a long kiss and I wonder how I would have made it through life without even a fraction of this bliss. Eventually, Benedict draws back, pure warmth in his eyes. “As much as I would like to stay here forever, I’m afraid we have to leave. Daphne may or may not still be standing guard outside.” I raise a hand to my mouth, trying in vain to suppress the giggle spilling out. He grins widely, then releases me and lets me pull him to his feet. “She is truly the best friend one could ask for.” “Oh, make no mistake, she will use this against us for the rest of our lives.” I smile up at him. “And I will cherish every second of it.”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

MASTERLIST

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict x reader #benedict bridgerton fluff

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hockey-fics · 1 year

Text

No Flirting at Trivia - Quinn Hughes

Summary: After moving to Vancouver by yourself you start to doubt your decisions. But one group of people make you feel a little more welcome in the new city. And there’s one person in particular who makes you certain you made the right decision.

Word Count: ~5,800

Warnings: Pretty wholesome, some drinking.

A/N: Honestly, don’t really know much about Quinn Hughes, he just gives kinda quiet, sweet vibes so I ran with that for this one. Could be way out of character, I’m not sure.

Moving to Vancouver was a huge decision, one that almost didn’t happen. When you got the job offer and they also offered to pay for you to relocate there weren’t any rational reasons to say no. The job was great, the pay was great, the benefits were great. But you didn’t know anyone in Vancouver. You had never moved to a new city not knowing a single person there.

But you didn’t want to regret letting the opportunity go so you packed up everything you owned into a U-Haul and made the journey to Vancouver. For a couple weeks you worried that you had made a huge mistake. Your job was great but that’s where the positives ended. The only social interaction you had was at work, which was even limited with the majority of your days being spent with your eyes locked on the computer in your cubicle. There was a loneliness to your life that made you question if you had made the right choice.

That was until you met Kayla. She lived in the apartment directly across from yours. After seeing each other and exchanging fairly standard small talk a few times she invited you to a dinner party she was having. You said yes immediately and a few days later you were in an apartment with more people at one time than you had talked to in the entire three weeks you had lived there. Not only were you welcomed with open arms that night but you were quickly incorporated into the little group of friends. You were invited to everything they went to and did and you stopped feeling so lonely in the new city.

It had officially been three months since you moved to Vancouver and things were starting to feel more and more normal everyday. It was a Friday night and you were meeting your friends at a pub that they promised had some of the best burgers in the city. When you got there you slide into an empty spot next to Quinn, saying a round of hellos to everyone who was already there. Quinn had made you feel especially comfortable from the moment you met him. He seemed to go out of his way to make sure you were included in conversations, always saving you a spot next to him at every table you all sat at, always asking questions about your life.

“How was work?” Quinn asks.

Looking up from the menu you give him a little shrug. “Not bad, how was your day? Did you have practice today?”

Quinn nods, leaning back in his chair as if even the thought of it was tiring. “Yeah, wasn’t bad though.

“We should go to karaoke,” Kayla blurts out, drawing everyones attention towards her. “There’s that place right down the street, I haven’t been in so long.”

“I don’t know,” Quinn tells her.

“I’m down,” you reply, taking a sip of your drink. You can see Quinn looking at you from your peripheral vision. Turning to look at him you wait for him to say something but he simply turns his attention back to the table.

“Yeah, okay, I’m in,” Quinn relents.

After a little more discussion it’s decided that you would all go to the karaoke bar after a couple more drinks, everyone needing a little more liquid courage to be able to truly give it their all in karaoke.

Once the bills were dropped off at the table you pull your wallet out, glancing down at it before it gets whisked from your line of vision.

“I got it,” Quinn whispers, clearly trying not to make a big deal of it.

Reaching over you try to take the bill back from him, shaking your head. “Why? You bought my dinner the other day.”

“Because I want to.” Quinn places the bill in his other hand with his own bill. “I’m just being nice.”

“Be nice to someone else,” you giggle, glancing around the table, not remembering Quinn paying for anyone else’s bills before.

“They’ve all had years of me being nice to them. I’m still trying to win you over,” Quinn jokes.

“Well you’ve already won me over, but thank you.” When you look away from Quinn you catch Kayla looking at you with a look that seemed to be trying to tell you something but you weren’t sure what that was.

After everyone’s bills have been paid you all make your way down the street to the karaoke bar. You order more drinks and watch Kayla give a very energetic performance of Since U Been Gone followed by a uniquely bad rendition of All Star from Ethan.

You were working on your second vodka soda since getting there when Quinn leans over towards you. “You agreed to come here and you’re not even going to sing?”

Giggling you look over at him, shaking your head. “I don’t think so. I’d definitely need another drink to get up there.”

“What do you want?” Quinn asks with a mischievous smirk.

“A tequila shot.” You really thought it was a joke, not expecting Quinn to buy you a tequila shot just minutes later, but you weren’t going to turn it down either. After the shot you convince Kayla to come up with you for a performance of Build Me Up Buttercup, a song that had never once failed to brighten your mood.

Thank God for the tequila shot, all your inhibitions lowered significantly. Halfway through the song you notice Quinn watching you so intently and your cheeks warm a little. You and Kayla finish up your performance before returning to your seats, Kayla immediately on the hunt for the next victim she would force to get up for a song.

“Not bad,” Quinn comments as you return to your seat beside him.

“Not bad?” You scoff, looking at him with fake offence. “You actually seemed pretty captivated by my performance.”

You watch Quinn glance down at the ground, clearing his throat before glancing back at you. “Yeah, guess it was pretty good.”

Leaning over you playfully nudge his shoulder with yours. “You’re very tense tonight.”

“I’m not,” Quinn says quickly, his voice carrying a defensive tone. “Just not super into karaoke, I guess.”

Nodding you decide to let it go though you weren’t entirely certain that there wasn’t something else going on. “Okay,” you mutter, taking another large gulp of your drink.

By the time you were all getting ready to head home you were a little more intoxicated than you had anticipated getting that night.

“Do you need a ride home?” Quinn asks you while you were all walking back to the parking lot next to the pub the night had started at. He hadn’t been drinking that night and it was only in that moment that you started to feel the self conscious feeling of being the drunk one around sober people.

“If you don’t mind,” you reply sheepishly, looking up at him as you’re trying to continue walking in a straight line.

Quinn reaches out, placing his hand on your waist and tugging you sideways with a chuckle. Looking forward you notice the fire hydrant you were rapidly approaching. “Not at all,” Quinn tells you. “I don’t know if you’d make it home on your own,” he teases.

“I would,” you exclaim. “I’m a very responsible drunk.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sure you are,” Quinn relents.

As you guys get back to the parking lot beside the pub the discussion of rides and Ubers begins. “Ethan is giving me a ride home, I don’t know who else he’s driving but I’m sure there’s probably room for you too, if you want.”

“Quinn is going to give me a ride,” you tell her, glancing up at him quickly, as if to check that he wasn’t going to change his mind.

“You live in completely different directions, our place is on Ethan’s way anyway.”

“I don’t mind,” Quinn chimes in, hands shoved in his pockets as he shrugs casually.

Kayla rolls her eyes playfully. “Of course you don’t.”

You weren’t sure what that was supposed to mean and for some reason the tension those words instil make you uncertain if you should say anything. So you don’t, letting it slide. After saying goodbye to everyone Quinn leads you to where he was parked and you slide into the passengers seat, immediately noticing how nice it was. Sure, you knew it was nice simply from the outside, but you hadn’t fully grasped just how nice.

“I don’t feel bad about you paying for my dinner anymore,” you joke as Quinn gets into the car, pulling his seatbelt on.

“You shouldn’t anyway,” Quinn tells you, chuckling quietly as you continue to look around the car like it was one of the 7 wonders of the world.

“You know how to get there?”

Quinn laughs a little more at that, pulling out of the parking lot. “Yeah, we met there.”

“Oh yeah,” you giggle, remembering the dinner party at Kayla’s apartment directly across from yours. It’s not a long drive from the pub to your apartment and when you get there a part of you doesn’t want to get out and go up to to your apartment alone. “Do you want to come in for a bit?”

Quinn looks over at you, not saying anything for a few seconds, like he was making a much more difficult decision than what you would have expected from your question. “Yeah, sure,” he finally answers, pulling into one of the visitor’s spots.

The two of you head up to your apartment and when you step inside you realize that Quinn had never actually been to your place before. Looking over your shoulder you watch Quinn glance around the room, taking everything in. “Does it get your approval?”

Quinn laughs and nods, following you towards the living room. “It’s very…you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” It sounded like the kind of thing you tell someone when you don’t want to offend them by saying you hated it.

“It just suits you,” Quinn says with a shrug. “I like it, it’s not a bad thing.”

“Oh,” you say, reeling back how defensive you had gotten. Flopping down onto your couch you put on some music before looking back over at Quinn. “I feel like I haven’t said thank you enough.”

Quinn follows your lead, sitting on the opposite end of the couch. “For dinner? I’m pretty sure you have.”

Shaking your head you stare down at the middle couch cushion separating you from Quinn. “No, for everything,” you say with a shrug. “I just…when I moved here it was really lonely and I thought I had made a mistake, I was considering going home. But then Kayla introduced me to you guys and everything started to feel…okay.” You were blinking quickly, trying to keep the tears that were blurring your vision from slipping onto your cheeks, but no matter how quick you were blinking you weren’t able to succeed. “Fuck, sorry, now I’m drunk crying to you, this is so embarrassing,” you say with a quiet laugh, wiping away your tears.

Quinn moves down the couch to sit beside you, looking hesitant as he wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. “Don’t apologize, it’s not embarrassing.”

“You’re just saying that to be nice,” you whisper, resting your head on his shoulder. “But thank you.”

“I’m always going to be here for you,” Quinn replies, a moment of silence falling between the two of you before he adds what sounded like an afterthought. “We all are.”

Lifting your head from his shoulder you look into his eyes and you can feel Quinn shift, a nervous energy filling the room. “Do you, um, do you want to watch a movie or something?”

“Yeah, sure.”

After picking out a movie you curl up into the corner of the couch, resting your head on one of the many decorative pillows you had bought when you got there. Your apartment was decorated incredibly well and as much as you enjoyed it you also knew that it was the product of trying to make yourself enjoy your evenings alone in the apartment a little more.

At some point during the movie you stop being able to keep your eyes open, with each blink your eyes were heavier and heavier, harder and harder to open them again. You’re brought back into reality by Quinn quietly saying your name. “Hmm?” You hum, sitting up slightly to look over at him, realizing you had fully fallen asleep. “Sorry, I didn’t realize how tired I was. I should have just let you go home earlier.”

Quinn chuckles, shaking his head. “You weren’t forcing me to stay here, I wanted to be here.”

“Okay,” you mumble, still feeling guilty for falling asleep with him there. “Are you heading home?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Quinn says, standing up from the couch and grabbing his keys and wallet.

“Well thank you for hanging out, even though I was a terrible host.” You follow him towards the door, still feeling a sleepy haze clouding your thoughts. Before Quinn has the chance to open the door you wrap your arms around him. He responds quickly and does the same, pulling you into his body. For the first time you realize how long it had been since you had even just hugged someone like this. You weren’t exactly wanting to pull back, but you do anyway, looking up at him with a tired smile. “Text me when you get home, okay?”

Quinn nods, his eyes lingering on you for a couple seconds looking contemplative before he turns around to head out of your apartment. Once he was gone you lean against the wall in the hallway, staring a little hole in the wall that you had made the day after you moved in, trying to maneuver the couch you ordered into the apartment yourself. Sighing you glance over to your door, as if Quinn might for some reason be coming back, and if you were honest with yourself, you think you might be more than happy if he did. There was something about him, something that put you at ease, made you feel safe and comfortable. It felt different from your other friendships, not that you didn’t feel safe with them, with Quinn it was just different.

Eventually you pull yourself away from the wall, going about your typical nightly routine before settling into bed for the night. You’re awakened the next morning by a knock on your front door, groaning in annoyance as you stumble through your apartment half asleep and a little hungover.

“Hi?” You say, looking over at Kayla when you pull the door open.

“Do you want to go for a run with me?”

“Not particularly, I haven’t recovered from last night.”

“Speaking of that,” Kayla says with a mischievous grin. “What did you and Quinn get up to? Saw his car in visitor’s parking when I got back last night.”

Shrugging you shake your head. “Not a lot, tried to watch a movie and then I fell asleep.”

“So you guys didn’t…”

You stare at Kayla, waiting for her to finish her sentence before realizing what she was asking. “Hook up? No,” you exclaim, shaking your head. “Why would you think that?”

“Well,” Kayla hums, shrugging. “You know, just…I thought it might happen.”

“Why? Do you think I’m into him, because I’m not.” Your voice is defensive and your words might be lies, but you didn’t want all your new friends thinking you had feelings for Quinn so you would rather stop that rumour as soon as possible.

Kayla sighs loudly, looking around as if someone might be creeping around to listen in on the conversation. “It’s not you,” she whispers, looking shifty as she lets out another sigh. “Quinn is, like he’s really into you. I’ve never seen him so infatuated with someone before.”

You have no response to that, your heart hammering so heavily you feel like you can hear it in your ears. “What?” Is all you manage to croak out.

“You can’t tell him I told you though, he didn’t even tell me, I was pretty sure he was into you just watching him with you but he told Ethan and Ethan told me, but I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone else. I just thought that maybe you should know.”

“Oh, okay,” you stammer, nodding nervously. “I, uh, thanks for telling me, I guess.”

“Just, can you also maybe try not to talk about other guys around him or anything like that, I’m sure he’ll get over it but for now if you could maybe-.”

“Yeah, of course,” you interrupt, nodding. You had no intentions of talking to Quinn about other guys, primarily because you hadn’t met a single person to tell him about other than himself, but there were no intentions of having that conversation. “Have a good run, I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

Kayla nods, making you swear again that you wouldn’t tell anyone what she had told you before disappearing down the hallway. Closing the door you let out a loud breath, your mind racing at a million miles an hour. Was that why things always felt different with Quinn? The only thing that you were certain about was that if Kayla was right then the feelings might not be one-sided.

You wait till that afternoon before texting Quinn, sitting on the couch changing the message about ten times before sending it. ‘Hey, would you want to go for dinner some night this week?’

He answers pretty quickly, evidently not spending an agonizing amount of time re-writing his message. ‘Sure we have a couple road games this week but would Thursday be good with everyone?’

You stare at the message with a sinking feeling. Everyone. This attempt to ask him on a date hadn’t gone how you had hoped, even after the half an hour it took to ask him. ‘I was thinking maybe it could just be us’

This time you watch the typing bubble appear and disappear enough times to know he was also uncertain about what to say. ‘Yeah, sounds good. Does Thursday work for you then?’

‘Yeah, Thursday is perfect’ You breathe out a sigh of relief that he didn’t seem to find your request strange, although you were pretty sure you also had missed the mark on making him know it was a date.

You rush home from work that Thursday, faster than you ever had before, knowing Quinn was going to be picking you up in a few short hours. You weren’t sure why your stomach was tied in knots, it’s not like it had even been established that this was a date. Getting ready takes less time than you had anticipated, the rest of the hour was spent shifting from the couch to the kitchen to the patio, anywhere really, not stay still.

‘I’m here, do you want me to come up?’

The text sends makes your heart pound and your palms begin to sweat and you’re not sure if it’s from excitement or nerves but you ignore it either way and reply to his text. ‘No, it’s okay, I’ll be down in a minute’

You yank on shoes and grab your purse, almost forgetting to lock your door on the way out. In the elevator you lean against the shiny silver wall, tipping your head back and taking a deep breath. It was just Quinn. But you’re just as nervous when you get into his car as you were in the elevator. “Hey,” you say sheepishly.

“Hey,” Quinn replies with an easy smile. “You look nice.”

“You do too,” you tell him, pulling your seatbelt on and entirely missing the wave of uncertainty that washes over Quinn’s face after your comment.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” Quinn mutters, putting the car in drive and heading towards the restaurant you had suggested. “How was work today?”

“It was fine, I guess, pretty much the same as every other day.”

Quinn turns his head to look at you when he stops at a red light. “You like it though, don’t you? Like, you’re not planning to leave?”

“No, I mean, yeah, I like it,” you stammer. “Why? Are you scared I’m going to move away?”

Quinn shrugs, chuckling quietly as the two of you continue towards the restaurant. “I don’t know, maybe a little.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you tell him, watching him for a couple seconds before looking back out the window.

You get to the restaurant shortly after and it seems that with every step closer to the table your anxiety was rising higher and higher. Quinn seemed entirely at ease and you wanted to scream at him that this was supposed to be a date, that you were just too nervous and awkward to have clarified that before. But no matter how easy it would be to just tell him, you couldn’t do it. Because what if you told him and he told you he didn’t want it to be a date? You weren’t sure you could handle sitting through a dinner after that.

“You okay?”

You tip your head up from where you were hyper-fixated on the menu in front of you. “Y-yeah, why?”

Quinn shrugs, eyebrows furrowed. “You just seem, I don’t know, uncomfortable or something.”

“No, I’m fine.” You could tell your voice sounded defensive and you wish you could take it back and try to sound at least a little convincing. “Do you know what you’re getting?”

“We’ve been here for five minutes, I’ve barely looked at the menu,” Quinn chuckles. “But I think you need a drink,” he jokes.

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” you giggle, glancing over as your server approaches your table. You order a glass of wine, hoping it would get to your table as quick as your server had been there to take your order. Thankfully it’s only a couple minutes before you’re sipping on a glass of pinot noir, trying not too seem too desperate to get it into your system. “Congratulations on your win yesterday, I forgot to tell you that earlier,” you say, leaning back in your chair and hoping to seem natural.

“Oh, thanks,” Quinn replies, seeming to be taken aback by the comment. “I didn’t really think you actually paid attention to that.”

Your head tips to the side slightly, eyes narrowing. “Why would you think that? I watch most of your games.”

“Really?”

Laughing softly in response to his surprise you give him a nod. “Of course, why wouldn’t it?”

“I didn’t think you cared about hockey.”

“I care about you,” you state, immediately wishing you had phrased that differently. It wasn’t that the statement wasn’t true, but the way it made your cheeks flush made you want to take it back. “And hockey is a big part of your life, so of course I’m going to care,” you add, hoping to soften the blow of the first statement.

Quinn is silent, looking down to the table then back to you then out the window you were sitting next to and then back to you. “I care about you too,” he blurts out.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his response. Perhaps he wasn’t as relaxed about this as he seemed. “I’m happy to hear that.”

“I’m getting the steak,” Quinn says, switching the subject quickly. “Do you know what you’re getting?”

“No,” you tell him, taking another sip of your wine as you gaze down at the menu.

Quinn chuckles, shaking his head. “So why’d you ask me if I knew the second we sat down?”

You turn your attention back to him, rolling your eyes playfully. “Because you’re making me nervous.”

“How am I making you nervous?” Quinn laughs, the tension that had been building since you got in his car seemingly fading away.

You bite down on your bottom lip, groaning quietly as you try to figure out what direction to take this. “Because I’m at dinner with a handsome man, why wouldn’t I be nervous?” You add a breath of laughter after, hoping to ease some of the anxiety you felt after saying that.

Quinn clears his throat nervously. “I think I’m the one who should be nervous then.”

“And you’re not?”

“Oh, I am,” Quinn breathes out followed by a chuckle that’s tinged with an energy that makes it obvious he wasn’t lying.

“Glad it’s mutual,” you tease, looking back down at your menu. “I’m getting the chicken caesar salad,” you inform him a minute later.

The rest of the dinner goes by about as well as that moment. You were able to relax a bit more after another glass of wine and a shift of conversation to lighter topics. Of course when the bill comes Quinn swoops in and you can’t tell if him paying for things for you was really ever just a friendly gesture or more than that.

You leave the restaurant and you’re only a few feet down the road when you grab Quinn’s hand. He comes to a halt, turning around with his eyebrows furrowed. “What’s up?”

You let go of his hand, taking a deep breath as you glance around, scared that if you looked into his eyes too long you would back out. “Okay, um,” you hum, taking another breath. “Tonight…this dinner, I was, I thought,” you stammer, shaking your head and letting a nervous laugh leave your lips. “I-,” you begin again before tapering off, it was as if your brain couldn’t figure out the words to explain what was going on. Shuffling closer you bring your hands to either side of his face just before leaning in and pressing your lips to his in a gentle kiss before quickly pulling back.

“Oh,” Quinn mutters, eyes wide. “Oh, shit,” he adds a second later. “This was supposed to be…”

“A date,” you whisper, nervously fidgeting with a ring on your finger.

“I’m sorry-,”

Before Quinn can say anything else you shake your head. “Don’t be sorry, I thought you felt the same way but it’s okay.”

“What?” Quinn mumbles. “No, that’s not what I was saying. I do, I do have feelings for you. I just…I’m sorry I was such an idiot and didn’t realize what was going on.”

You wish you could hide the stupid smile that spreads on your lips but you can’t seem to contain it. “You’re not an idiot, I was just too scared to actually actually ask you, to say that it was a date.”

“Well I had fun on our first date,” Quinn laughs, shaking his head as if still in disbelief that he hadn’t figured it out.

“Me too,” you agree, reaching over and taking his hand before continuing on your way back to his car, a sudden ease to your interactions. “Do you want to come over to my place?”

“I don’t have sex on the first date,” Quinn jokes, surprisingly at ease.

“I doubt that,” you tease. “But I don’t either, I want you to sit on the couch while I fall asleep again.”

Quinn stops just beside his car, tugging you closer to him. Leaning back in he presses his lips to yours, this time the kiss has more intention, it lasts longer than a fleeting second and it fills your stomach with butterflies. “Only if I get to pick the movie this time,” he whispers.

“Deal.”

It was nearing a month since you went on your first date with Quinn and you had already been on many more. He had suggested that you make the relationship official about as easily as you had informed him that your first dinner was supposed to be a date. But of course you agreed, having no interest in being with anyone other than Quinn. More and more often Quinn was spending nights at your apartment. Despite your relationship growing you had yet to tell anyone about it. Originally it was because you wanted to explore the relationship and see if it was going anywhere before telling any of your friends, not wanting to complicate things if it didn’t work out.

Quinn had been out of town for a few days and you hated to admit how much you missed him already. But even through your texts he seemed to be able to read you, your phone ringing with the familiar FaceTime ringtone. “Hi,” you say after answering it, already tucked into bed for the night.

“You look cozy,” Quinn comments, also already in bed though he doesn’t seem as close to calling it a night as you were.

“I am,” you hum, giggling. “I watched your game tonight.”

“Oh…that sucks,” Quinn laughs.

You roll your eyes in response, having had this exact conversation almost every time they lost a game. “You know it doesn’t.”

“I like that you watch my games,” Quinn admits, looking sheepish as he says it.

“You’re cute,” you giggle, sitting up in your bed as you begin to feel yourself getting more and more tired. “What time are you getting back tomorrow?”

“Early, I think. We’re still going out to trivia with everyone tomorrow night?”

“Yeah.” You cover your mouth to try to hide your yawn but the little smirk on Quinn’s face tells you that it hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“Are you going to fall asleep on me again?”

“No, I’m not,” you whine, laughing quietly.

“Hey, um, I don’t know if this is the right time to bring this up, but…” Quinn begins before trailing off.

“What’s up?” You ask, voice soft as your heart begins to race, worried about what could possibly be making him seem so nervous.

“I was thinking, maybe, we could tell people about us? Like, our friends, I mean.”

You let out a breath of relief, your heart rate slowing down. “Yeah, of course we can.”

“Okay.” Quinn’s voice is filled with an equal amount of relief and he’s smiling back at you like you just gave him the greatest news he’s heard all year.

Glancing at the time you let out a quiet sigh. “I really should go though, busy day at work tomorrow.”

“Have a good sleep, I’ll text you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight Quinn,” you say before ending the FaceTime, falling asleep shortly after with a feeling of contentment.

You knew it was going to be a busy day at work but you hadn’t realized just how busy. You barely had time for even a coffee break and it was already nearing the end of the day and your to-do list still had a few items. You look up at the time in the corner of your computer, groaning as you pick up your phone to text Quinn. ‘I have to stay late, I’ll meet you at trivia’

‘Are you sure? I can wait and pick you up’

‘It’s okay, no point in you not being there the whole time just because I can’t’

‘Okay, I’ll see you there then’

Setting your phone down you get right back to work, trying to get through it as quickly as possible. By the time you’re done you’re already twenty minutes late and it’s another fifteen before you get to the pub, heading inside and quickly finding your group sitting in a booth at the back of the pub.

“There she is,” Kayla cheers as you approach the table. “Just in time, trivia is about to start and we can’t do this without you.”

“I made it, everyone can relax,” you joke, laughing softly. As you get closer Quinn slides out of the booth, waiting for you to get closer before pulling you into a hug. “I missed you,” you whisper into his ear as you hug him back.

“I missed you too,” he replies, not nearly as quietly as you. So he really was serious about letting everyone in on the news right away. As you pull back you look up into his eyes, hesitating for a second before leaning in to kiss him. He kisses you back as you hear mutters at the table. “That’s one way to tell them,” Quinn chuckles as he pulls back, letting you slide into the booth before you.

“What the fuck?” Mia exclaims, eyes wide as they jolt back and forth between you and Quinn. “When did this happen and why didn’t I know about it?”

You feel Quinn’s hand fumble around under the table till he finds yours, slipping his fingers between yours. “Like a month ago,” you admit.

“A month? Like you two have been together for a month and we didn’t know?”

“Yeah, sorta, I guess,” you stammer. “We went on a date a month ago and then didn’t want to say anything till we figured out if we even liked each other,” you joke.

Quinn chuckles, shaking his head. “You needed to figure out if you even like me, I already knew.”

“Did you know?” Mia asks Kayla, her voice still filled with shock.

“Yes, but not because they told me,” Kayla admits, looking over at you with a knowing smile. “Platonic friends don’t spend nearly as many nights together as they’ve been,” she explains to Mia before turning her attention to you. “Kind of upset with you two for not telling me and thinking I would be stupid enough not to put it together when Quinn’s car is in our visitor parking half the days he’s in town.”

“I’m actually very surprised you managed to keep it a secret for so long, I know you’re not great at that.”

“Hey,” Kayla exclaims, raising her hands in defence. “If I was any better at keeping secrets you two wouldn’t be together.”

“What?” Quinn chimes in, eyes narrowed. “What does that mean?”

You look to Kayla and she looks to you, giving a little shrug to say it was up to you if you wanted to explain it or not. “Well I didn’t just get the courage to ask you on a date out of nowhere.”

Quinn looks to Kayla, putting the pieces together in his head. “I mean, you didn’t actually get the courage to ask me on a date, you asked me to go for dinner and then just kissed me after,” he teases.

“Whatever,” you giggle, rolling your eyes. “Wouldn’t have needed to be so complicated if you had just asked me out before that.”

“Okay, I think you two are very cute together but I’m going to throw up if you don’t stop flirting,” Mia jokes.

“Sorry,” you laugh. “No flirting at trivia.”

“Absolutely none, we’re here to win,” Kayla chimes in just as the host begins his introductions for the night. As he explains the rules you can’t help but look over at Quinn, smiling happily up at him. And suddenly you realize just how right your decision to move to Vancouver truly was.

#Quinn hughes #Quinn Hughes fanfic #Quinn Hughes fic #Quinn Hughes imagine #Quinn Hughes one shot #Vancouver canucks fic #Vancouver canucks fanfic #vancouver canucks one shot #nhl fanfiction #nhl one shot #nhl fic #nhl fanfic #nhl imagines #vancouver canucks imagines #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey fanfic #hockey imagines

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miss-owl-eyes · 1 year

Text

🗡Your Knight🗡

Stolas x fem!Stella’s sister || fluff & angst

Requested by a wattpad supporter!

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Talons clicking against the short stairs, your black-tipped tail feathers dusted the steps. Your hand lightly held onto the golden handrail as the warm colors beamed from beyond the stained glass doors. The ivory and leaves rustled quietly as the wind blew gently.

Stella had called you about a month or two ago inviting you over for a weekend. She talked of a grand party, extravagant dinner, spectacular treatment, and good ol' sisterly quality time. "I wanted you to see the parties I host with your own eyes! Stolas actually agreed to this one, so you just know the turnout will be great! I'm so sorry for not inviting you sooner, it's such a hassle to get him to agree to anything I want. Oh, Y/N, I promise you won't regret it!" You wouldn't regret it, but you weren't exactly the most excited to see someone.

Faint yelling can be heard from the inside, it sounded to be coming from a very unhappy woman. The irritated yelling became louder as a dark silhouette appeared in the glass. The doors flew open. "Oh my dear sister, I've been awaiting your arrival!" A pair of arms wearing black gloves wrapped around you in a warm embrace, the tips of sharp claws putting faint pressure on your shoulders. "Hello Stella! It's a pleasure as always!" You hug her back, happy to see your sister once again.

She smiled, a genuine one, something rare from her. After she married Stolas of the Goetia family, Stella had grown more and more bitter over the years. She was always a bit snappy, but it only increased as the years went by in her loveless marriage to Stolas. Prince Stolas. That owl-like demon prince with red eyes that you knew him all too well.

You knew those glowing crimson eyes from your childhood, the memories you cherished with someone you could confide in; someone you knew, an old friend, or maybe even the one that got away. The one you were meant to marry before your parents pulled the rug from under you and sent you spinning. It's all on the past now, you told yourself despite the wound still being sore all these years later. No matter how much you convinced yourself the wound healed, you knew seeing him now would rip it open once again.

Your sister released you and ushered you inside, closing the door behind you. "It's been too long! I have a whole itinerary planned for us, I want to spend as much time together as possible- I've even got Stolas to sleep on the couch so we could lay together! Ahh, just like when we were chicks." You smiled and feigned a laugh, pretending it was humorous she demoted her husband to the couch like a dog when it really just saddened you to see him treated so poorly. She put a hand on your shoulder, looking at you from under her long eyelashes, " I'm really glad you're here, sis. I've missed you." You smiled and grabbed her forearm gently, "I've missed you too."

Despite her anger and violent outbursts, Stella was always kind to you. She always stuck up for you when your brother picked on you, when mom was too hard on you, and she always let you play with her dolls. Maybe it was because you were twins, but Stella never let you get stepped on.

"Mum, is Aunt Y/N here yet?" A monotone voice echoed from above the stairs. "Octavia dearest!" You exclaim, arms out and ready to hug your niece. The stoic expression on her face changed to a child-like smile as she hurried down the staircase to hug you. "My, is this a new hat? I think you'd look amazing in a pink one!" She tucked a strand of hair back, "oh yeah, my dad said it suited me... do you like it?" "Like it? I love it!" You loved seeing Octavia. You wanted to shower her with love every time you saw her. You knew she came from a broken family and you wanted her to feel loved, to feel wanted, and even if she already felt that way, you wanted her to know she was loved.

You let go and smiled, "I'll let you get back to your music now. I know how much you like those bands." She smiled and brushed her hair back again, "Okay Auntie, I'll see you later!" You waved as she went back, Stella coming close to you once again. "She's 17 now, in her edgy-emo phase." She commented. "I remember when you had that same phase." You laughed in embarrassment. "Oh please, remember when I dyed a streak in my feathers? Mum was furious!" You two laughed at the memories. Despite having a rough childhood, you did have the good memories. Good memories...

Stella took a sip from her wine glass once again. Stumbling over her words, laughing with you and slinging her arm over you. "...and I told him, I said "You wouldn't know cyanide from absinthe if it weren't for me!" She cackles with her loud laughter. You laughed as well, but it was insincere. Stolas was a common butt of the joke with your sister, and as awful as you felt to laugh with her about him, you enjoyed seeing her happy. The hours flew by since you arrived. The laughing and storytelling took your attention more than the clock ever could. You almost forget about her husband if it weren't for her jokes and stories about him. "You know, he's been seeing someone behind my back..." your blood went cold. "Oh?" you ask, not knowing if you wanted to hear more or less. "Yeah, cheating prick." Definitely less. "With an IMP no less! Can you believe that?" No. You honestly couldn't. No wonder she hates him, he cheated on her. "I could care less about an affair, it's not like we loved each other anyway, but an imp? If word got out, it would ruin our entire image!" "I can't even imagine how you feel, Stella..." you place a hand on her shoulder, but feel anger knowing she doesn't care about him, only her status. "It's a problem, but he wouldn't dare to divorce me. He knows better." You nod, listening to her rant about him and his affair. It was never this apparent how loveless this marriage truly was.

You were only interrupted by a door shutting a voice that followed. "Stella, where in Hell have you put my-" your eyes meet. Two small, white pupils appear in his eyes, something that happens when he's surprised. You stare at each other for a moment before he continues. "Never mind, I'll find it myself. Pleasure to see you as always, Y/N." He finished and leaves the room. Stella laughs and makes a comment, but you're too distracted to even listen to her.

You sit on the couch, watching the tv quietly. You put Stella to sleep since she got a little too wine-drunk. The lights are off. Stolas is asleep in the guest room with your things. You sigh too yourself and watch the soap opera, reading it's subtitles. "Gabriella, I've told you, it's too late!" The tv reads. "But Alejandro, I love you!" "As do I Gabriella, but I must go." The female's love interest leaves as she sobs, and the episode fades to black before the next one starts. "I really hope they get together." You jump and twist your head around to see Stolas with a robe on, leaning on the couch. "How long have you been here?!" You exclaim. "Long enough to know Alejandro doesn't want to leave. Mind if I have a seat?" You nod as he steps over and sits down.

It's quiet. It's awkward. The tv illuminates the two of you as the two characters quarrel over their love life. It's tense. "So... how have you been?" He struggles to start a conversation. "Oh, here and there." You reply dryly. You want to talk more, you want to engage in a conversation like you used to, but he's married to your sister. He's a cheater. "I heard you like imps." You state in an attempt to distance yourself from him, to push him away. It seemed to work as he tenses, leaning back slightly. "Oh... She told you." "Yeah." You watch the show, not paying any attention. Not looking at him, but you know his expression. It's pained, tired, upset. He's tired, upset, pained. "It's complicated. Maybe it was childhood love that drew me to him, but it's so... difficult." He sighs out. Your eyebrows furrow. You two were childhood friends, why didn't he go to you? You were jealous, upset, you wanted to cry, but you wouldn't let yourself. "Gotta be strong," you told yourself. "I'm sorry to hear."

It's quiet once again. You're upset, he's upset, but both for different reasons. The tv makes it bearable. You don't look at him, not until there's a faint sniffle. "Are you crying?" You ask, voice sounding more judgmental than you wanted. "I know, I know, it's ridiculous. But, but I feel so-" "lonely." You finish it for him. He looks at you, "...yes." He replies faintly. "I'm so lonely here. I have a wife and daughter but I'm not happy. He doesn't love me, he's too busy with his business and work family, I don't think anyone loves me." You know he's choking back a sob. You aren't afraid to look at him now, his crimson eyes wet with tears. "I know it's useless to cry, but sometimes it helps." You take his hand, squeezing slightly. "It's not stupid to cry, Stolas." His eyes, his face, he looks so pathetic. You look into each other's eyes before pulling him into a hug. He stiffens, then loosens up and let's out a quiet sob on your shoulder. He shakes as he cries, and you wonder how long he's been holding this back. How long he's needed someone to listen to him, how many years. You stroke his back, comforting him in whatever way you can.

Time passed, and his sobs lighten. He says the occasional "I'm sorry" to which you always reply "it's alright. Let it out." He doesn't let go. He sniffles and deeply inhales periodically, usually a quieter sob follows. "Why are you being so nice to me?" He chokes out. Why are you being so nice? "I..." you can't think of a lie, only the truth, and you can't stop your mouth before it speaks on its own. "I care about you. I don't want you to be in pain and I want to take it all away." He pulls himself off your shoulder and looks at you, a faint smile on his damp face. "Do you remember when I read you stories as our fathers talked?" You weakly smile back. "Of course I do." You lean back, "We played and talked, and I told you I was scared of being a princess, and you said-" "I'll be your prince and protect you as your knight." Your eyes widen in pleasant surprise. "You remember..." he smiles back, "how could I not?" You look at him, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. He teaches towards you and pulls you gently into his chest. "Oh, it's alright Y/N, it's a happy memory!" He's trying to hard to cheer you up, you can tell. You can practically hear him smiling as he speaks. "No it isn't!" you exclaim into his chest, confusing him. "It's not nice when I still love you and you don't love me!" The tears trail down your face and cheeks, slowly wetting his chest. "Now who said that?" He asks. "You did! Because you love that Imp! He's strong, and he's accomplished, and I couldn't even marry you!" He strokes your head. "Y/N, that was a very complicated situation. You didn't fail even if you think you did, I promise," He pauses, "and I still love you too, I just didn't want to upset you or Stella!"

Your mind comes to a halt. "He loves me..?" You think. You look up at him with wide eyes, his expression is soft and comforting. His hand strokes your cheek, wiping your tears away. "I love you, Y/N." "I love you too, Stolas." The two of you smile at each other. His forehead rests on yours, the two of you laughing faintly with each other. "I'll be your knight, my love, and we're going to be happy together with our own life, I promise." He holds up a pinkie, like a child about to make the most serious kind of promise ever. You link your pinkies and shake, "it's a promise," you say. "A pinkie promise." He jokes. The two of you giggle together.

He hugs you once more, a soft, comforting hug. You know you're safe in his arms, it won't be last time you feel safe with him, and it certainly won't be the last hug.

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Fandom: Helluva Boss

Word Count: 2.1K

🔥Masterlist!��

#helluva boss #Stolas #stolas helluva boss #Stolas x reader #Stolas fanfic #helluva boss fanfiction #helluva boss fandom #helluva boss x reader #helluva boss stolas

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melanieph321 · 5 months

Text

Dominik Szoboszlai x Black Reader - The Cliff

I'm expanding my horizons with this fic. 😜 Hope you enjoy!

⚠️ Warning ⚠️

18+

Summary Dominik helps Reader overcome her fear of heights.

Enjoy!

You had always been afraid of heights, but today you found yourself at the edge of a cliff, surrounded by your adventurous friends who were all eager to take the leap of faith. The group of you had driven to this secluded spot, nestled in the heart of the mountains, specifically for the purpose of cliff diving. The crystal-clear waters below seemed inviting, but you couldn't shake the feeling of vertigo that gripped you every time you looked down.

One by one, your friends took turns jumping off the edge, their laughter and screams of excitement filling the air. Each dive was met with cheers and encouragement from the group, urging you to join them.

"I just got my hair done!" You shouted in excuses.

No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't bring yourself to take the plunge.

"Come on Y/N, jump! The water isn't even that cold!"

It was spring break. A time you would usually spend with your family, going to church, celebrating easter. But the last semester at university had been hard for you. You struggled alot but got through it. "You deserved to have some fun." Your friends told you, convincing you to join them on their annual road trip through Hungary. A big mistake, considering you now stood looking down the edge of a cliff, trying to talk yourself into plunging to your own death.

"Y/N?"

Dominik, one of your friends, reclimbed the mountain for his second jump.

"You still haven't jumped yet?" He asked.

"No."

"Well then, last man down is a..."

You were already on your way down, the mountain trail.

"Hey, come on. Don't leave."

You turned back around. "Dom, I don't care what you tell the others, I'm not jumping."

"Come on, quit being such a coward and jump with me."

"Um... what did you call me?"

Dominik was know for his cocky demeanor. Only a few people, including you, knew that he was a gentleman at heart. But to most, especially the girls on campus, he was a known fuckboy with a lean body to match his arrogant persona.

"I said take my hand and let's do this. Trust me you won't regret it."

You snorted. "I'll definitely regret holding your hand."

"Y/N."

"Fine."

You walked to the edge of the cliff, hand in hand, peering over the edge. The wind whipped through your braids as you gazed down at the water below. You felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins, but instead of fear, you felt a sense of exhilaration. This was it – the moment you had been pushing aside for so long.

"Don't let go." You turned to Dominik, he looked puzzled. "Of my hand. Don't let go of my hand until we hit the water."

He smiled. "Trust me, I won't let you go."

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes. Domink took the lead, stepping off the edge. All you had to do was follow.

Your arms were intertwined as you hurtled towards the water, the rush of the fall making your heart race. Dominik kept his promise, never letting go of your hand. Resurfacing from the deep, you were met with triumphant cheers and applause from your friends.

"Yes, Y/N! Way to go!"

Dominik swam beside you, grinning from ear to ear. "You did it. You finally jumped."

"Thank you." You said, quite humbled by his kindness.

For dinner you and your friends set up to have a nice BBQ around the fireplace. The cliff was located near a known camping spot, that's where you were planning on spending the night.

"Truth or dare?" Someone suggested. It was well into the night and most of you already had alot to drink. Nevertheless, everyone was up for a classic game of truth or dare.

"I dare you to...," said one friend, "sing that embarrassing song from high school that we all used to hate."

"Truth or dare?" asked another, "which celebrity crush do you have that no one else knows about?"

The group erupted into laughter as you watched each other squirm and giggle through the dares. When it came time for you to choose, you decided to mix things up by choosing "truth".

"Okay, what's your biggest fear Y/N?"

"Heights, obviously."

Heartwarming laugher spread around the fireplace.

"Okay, that was too easy. Here is another one. Who here would you let fuck you like there was no tomorrow?"

In a brief state of shock you let your gaze land on Dominik. To your surprise he was already looking your way. His eyes were deceiving and his expression quite hard to read.

"Um...I don't know." You mumbled, once again praising the lord for your melanin skin. It never gave away your flustered embarrassment.

"You have to pick someone." A girl named Nelly protested.

"Then I guess I pick you." You hissed

The people around the campfire chuckled, someone of them quite impressed with your rapid answer.

Now it was your turn.

"Nelly, truth or dare?"

"Dare."

"I dare you to strip naked and run down to the lake for a swim."

It wasn't a dare for Nelly, it was simply a request. She wasn't shy about her body, everyone knew that. She stood, stripping herself naked with cynical cheerfulness. Asking her to run into the lake was your way of getting rid of her for a minute. She returned to the campfire wet haired, skin glistening in lake water.

"My turn." She said, happily accepting the jacket offered to her by one of the boys.

"Dom, truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Which one of us girls would you rather fuck like there was no tomorrow? Be honest."

He gave away a slight chuckle.

The attention was automatically drawn back to you since Dominik received the exact same question you had. Compared to you the questioned hadn't startled him and he would probably give a better answer than you had.

"Well?" Nelly said impatiently. Like everyone else she was eager to hear his answer.

"Well what?" He smirked.

"Who'd you pick, out of us girls?"

"I'm looking at her right now."

Like everyone else's your gaze shifted curiously. However they were all looking at you.

"Me?"

Your attention was brought back to Dominik. And yes, he was in fact staring at you.

"Ohhh, Y/N and Dominik sitting in a tree...." Nelly teseased.

Giggles and laughter spread around the campfire.

"I knew you guys were taking a bit too long up on that cliff." One guy joked. "What were you two doing prior to jumping."

"None of your business." Dominik winked. At last he broke your eye contact. It had been intense, causing blood to rush to your cheeks.

As the night went on and the alcohol continued to flow you somewhat forgot about the silly game of truth and there, that is, until there was a knock on your cabin door far too late in the night.

"Dominik?"

He stood errect in the moonlight, undoubtedly confident to knock on your door at this hour.

"Zayn and Nelly are going off like animals in our cabin, can I stay with you?"

Nelly was meant to be your bunk buddy, now that she had snucked her way into Zayn's cabin, you had an empty bed.

You let him, crawling back into your bed, however, you were startled by the sight of Dominik, pushing Nelly's bunk across the room.

"What are you...."

"There, much better." He said, once Nelly's bed lay alongside yours, making it a conjoined sleeping unit.

"Are you crazy?" You laughed.

"What?"

He joined you under the covers.

"This is so not happening."

"What?"

"This." You pointed to the two of you.

"Y/N, relax. I just don't like going to bed alone. I'm not really used to it if you know what I mean."

You rolled your eyes and pulled the covers over your body. You slept with your back to him.

"Oh, come on. It was a joke."

You sat up, turning to face him. "It wasn't funny, neither was your answer during truth or dare."

He laughed. "What did you want me to do, lie?"

"Please Dominik. As if you've ever been intrested in me."

"Since the day I met you actually."

You frowned.

"Sure, you seemed a bit uptight at first but I thought hey, at least she will be a fun challenge."

"Wow, so getting with me has been a challenge for you, a game?"

"Hey, Y/N. You've got me all wrong. Why is me being into you so hard for you to understand? A guy doesn't make a jump like that twice, unless he is trying to impress a girl."

"You. Impress me?" It was hard for you to understand. "You're telling you reclimbed that mountain to impress me?"

"It worked didn't it? After that you started paying more attention to me, seeing me for more than just a fuckboy."

"I don't only see you as a fuckboy."

"Please, I hear the way you girls talk when you think I'm not listening. How you warn your friends not to fall for my tricks, as if I have any."

You were a bit taken back. In a way this was your first conversation with Dominik that wasn't infatuated with you calling him out for how he treats women. In a way, fueling his already presumed behavior.

"What are you trying to say Dom? That your into me and want me to be your girlfriend?"

"No."

"Oh."

You played with fire. Fire burns.

"I was thinking we could fuck each other like there is no tomorrow. If tomorrow happens to come around." He shrugged. "So be it."

You leaped forward, kissing him, eager to taste him. He explored you in other ways, his hand already finding you under the covers. You could always tell when a guy knew what he was doing or not. Domink knew what he was doing. He found ways to turn you on with gentle strokes, his hands exploring your many curves and creases. He had rolled you over within minutes of taking your clothes off.

"Turn around for me."

"Like this?" You whispered.

"Yes."

He massaged your ass, his fingers moving roughly over your skin. You lay flat on your belly, legs spread. Domink came to you with caution, bending down to trace kissed down the slope of your back all the way to the curve of your ass. You felt his length press against you, he was big, big and ready.

"Lift your hips up for me."

"Like this?"

You stretched out like a cat, offering yourself to him.

He grunted in satisfaction.

A hand slipped between your legs. He drew a vertical line with his fingers, sperating your folds along the way.

"Dom, please." You moaned, your body begging to have him inside you.

He place himself behind you, aligning his cock with your entrance. He then slipped in with ease. You were that ready for him.

"You feel so good." He thrusted into you. Slow at first but the pace increasing rapidly.

Yes. Harder please."

The bed squeaked with his movment, on the verge of breaking the plank. Once again your heart raced with the thrilling sense of free falling. You were back on top of the cliff, ready to plunge to your death. However without the fear. You had no fear, primarily because you weren't diving into the deep alone.

#fanfiction #football imagine #liverpool fc #dominik szoboszlai #dominik x reader #dominik szoboszlai imagine #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #football angst #black reader #dominik szoboszlai x black reader

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killishin · 1 month

Text

SO IT'S A DATE

pairing : jason todd x reader

warning : anxiety , overthinking

category : fluff

author's note : this one is a bit long and im not really sure about this. the flowers i mentioned are just something i looked up because i wanted to choose those with certain meanings. in case of any mistake pls inform me , hope you like it :)

so it's today.

To say you were nervous was an understatement. You were impatiently running around your apartment making sure everything is proper, clean, neat and presentable even though you've been at it for like more than three hours.

You had been friends with Jason for over a year , it was unexpected but it just felt like ... it was meant to be. You didn't really believe much in destiny or fate , but there was just this warm feeling you felt that grew as time went on. Before you knew it , before you could even stop yourself, you had already fallen for him. hard.

But it was just you could never tell him , never show it to him. You were scared , would it ever work out? does he even like you that way?

You were half sure that he may have some feelings but your overthinking just quickly shuts it all down. So you never tried.

But it all changed yesterday.

" Hey let's have a movie night? I'd have a reason to watch something new and FINALLY someone to talk with about it."

you don't know why you said that , it was after you realised you invited him to your apartment, that you realised the weight of it. Him and you. You and him. In your apartment. That is mostly not really presentable.

" Hm , sounds good. But only if you let me cook." he said with a smirk.

hell he can cook.

" Oh? you can cook? you never told me that , i would make it out alive right?"

" Oh it's on. I'll make you beg me to come again and cook more."

" Ohhhh????? We'll see we'll see Mr. Ramsey. "

You laughed and smirked at him , sudden confidence in you that you regret just a second later.

" So movie , dinner ... It's a date then huh?" You teased with a wink. You swear you saw his ears go red as his eyes widened slightly. He was flustered for a moment before he leaned forward dangerously close and connected his forehead with yours.

" It's a date."

IT'S A DATE !!

it was about time and your heartbeat was starting to increase as your nervousness increase. Your palms start to sweat as you continuously look at the time and fix the pillows or the blankets or check the kitchen or fix yourself in the mirror.

' Oh god do i look good? would he like it? does everything look fin- '

The bell rings and all your worries come to a halt. You look at the bouquet of flowers that lay on the table. You had yourself chosen the flowers , red chrysanthemum , white carnations , babys breathe and pink camellia ; and arranged them in a bouquet.

Maybe someday he'll understand the meaning behind them.

You take the bouquet in your hands and take one last look in mirror before steadying yourself at the door. Taking a deep breathe you open the door , and there he was , his eyes slightly wide , his cute smile fading away as he notices you and stops at the bouquet in your hands.

And that's when you noticed , he had a bouquet too.

Both of you were shocked and flustered , blood rushing to both your cheeks as you both laugh awkwardly.

" Hey there." You said with an awkward smile and he laughed awkwardly while brushing his hair.

" You look beautiful , truly." He said softly and you could feel the immense warmth creeping up your neck.

" Were you always this cute?" You teased as you gestured him in.

He laughed as he started coming in your house.

" You just never noti- wOAH-"

He tripped over a entrance and before you could react , he slightly fell over you , one hand on your shoulder, the one that had the bouquet , and the other on the wall beside.

...And his lips on your cheek.

Both of you looked at each other with wide eyes , his ears fully red. He was so close at that moment that you could clearly see those beautiful eyes and the panic in them. Even the warmth he emitted at that moment made your heart do flips.

" Oh god im sorry- really sorry."

" No no no!! it's fine you okay?"

" yea- yeah er it didn't hurt."

He said as he immediately backed away and stood upright , looking anywhere but you , the awkwardness brimming to the top. But maybe it was how cute he looked while being awkward , that despite the heavy silence , you started cracking up.

He looked at you in disbelief as your laughter increased and turned uncontrollable making your stomach ache as you pointed at him.

" Y-your ears- so red-" you said in between your laugh and his brows furrowed as he instinctively covered his ears before he started cracking up too.

" You're such a dork."

" Oh i am??? you're the one who " accidentally" kissed my cheek! i mean if you wanted it so bad you could've just asked." You teased as you closed the door and ushered him in.

Just as you turned around , you let out a yelp as you noticed how close he was to you,intentionally.

He was slightly leaning as he gazed deep in your eyes with a small smirk dancing on his lips.

" So since you didn't immediately kill me , i take it you liked the kiss?"

You were speechless for a moment , the proximity too much to bear and his sudden flirtatious behaviour make your confidence really dwindle.

But who were you to ever back down?

" And what if i did?"

He raised his eyebrows in challenge , before leaning ahead and kissing your other cheek. Your breathe hitched as his lips lingered on your cheek , you could feel his breathe on your cheek , the warmth he emitted , your heart beating really fast but you didn't care if he heard it. How could you when you're busy processing what he's actually doing.

You wish he lingered longer , you wish you could kiss his cheek too, you wish to see his eyes and get some answers.

" Now are you sure if you did?"

"Uh- um- FLOWERS!"

You said as you shoved the bouquet between you , your brain had errored and this was the only response it could come up with.

He smiled and chuckled before taking it and giving you the one he brought. You smiled wide when you took them , the smell making you even more happy and less nervous.

He watched you as you happily keep it in a vase , his heart fluttering at the sight of a simple bouquet making you this happy. Then he looked down at the down you gave him. He couldn't explain the blast of feelings he felt everytime he'd look at it.

It brought the same wide smile on his face as you had.

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

The evening went smoothly , Jason chose the movie and both of you watched it halfway when you whined that you were hungry. You gotta say he did have skills , he knew his way around cooking. And you were absolutely impressed by his cooking , continuously praising him while gobbling up the food. Even though he seemed pretty confident , he was quiet nervous when it was time for you to taste it. The confident yet sheepish smile that came on his face maybe made your food even more tasty.

You both sat on the couch as you started watching the television again.

" Oh god im full. I'm too full." You groaned causing him to laugh.

" Well you did hoard my portions too."

" Hey i didn't "hoard" anything.... you cooked for me didn't you?"

" Can't argue with that."

He said and a silence fell over you as you watched the movie. Your eyes glanced at the clock and you realised , your little date was gonna come to an end. You felt a pang in your chest at the thought. You just couldn't let it end with a movie.

Yeah , you can't just let it end like this.

" Hey you wanna go to the terrace? Let's walk sometime?"

" Right now?"

" Mhm"

He pondered for a moment before standing up and extending his hand to pick you up.

The Gotham's night sky didn't look as gloomy as it did usually , the silence wasn't heavy or awkward as you both stared at the sky and the horizon , standing close to each other.

You didn't know what to say , yet you wanted to talk to him. You looked over at him , his face lit up by the moonlight , his glazed eyes carrying certain heaviness in them as he stared ahead. If you could stare at him the whole night , you would. You wanted to caress those cheeks , feel how soft his hair was-

" -Y/N? Hey? you 'kay?" he asked worriedly as he turned towards you with a tilted head. Even though you'd usually be flustered at having being caught staring , but right now you didn't care.

You shook your head slightly and gave him a soft smile.

" I had a great time today. I loved it."

" Oh?? The food really was that good huh?" He teased and smirked at you.

" Wanna go on a second date?" You asked unfazed , with the same smile. Your heart beating really fast , being filled with uncertainty and anticipation.

His smirk ceased as he looked at you , realising how serious you are.

" A second d-date? the food was that goo-"

" No not the food, no , because i like you , you idiot." You said a bit impatiently , your smile ceased as you looked at him with all genuiness.

You took a deep breath and gestured toward his hand. " Can i?" you asked nervously and he put forward his hand. You held it with a smile and looked up at him.

" I know this is sudden , and I don't know if this is the right time or would it ever be i mean- uh- that- uh-" you started fumbling , your breathing started increasing as your confidence dwindled and you started looking elsewhere , as your hold on his hand weakened.

" Hey hey go on , it's fine alright? go on."

He whispered as he squeezed your hand and you looked up at him in surprise. His eyes had this certain emotion in it , like he knew , yet he wanted to hear it. He just can't wait.

You huffed out a smile and took another breathe before continuing.

" I.. I have liked you since a few months we met. I don't know when it happened, or how it did exactly, but i did and i found myself loving every moment with you , everything you did , everything you said , i loved..."

you caressed his cheek with your free hand , your thumb swiping over his cheekbones , the feel of it making you smile wider.

"... looking at this pretty face of yours at every chance i got. But i just couldn't ever risk it. Maybe it was too soon or not the right time or the uncertainty if you even felt the same way. "

You pulled his cheeks and smiled even wider and maybe that made him more happier than you for he smiled even wider than you , his eyes filled with joy and happiness.

That was enough confirmation you needed.

" But i like you , a fuck lot. I wanna hold you , talk to you and.... call you mine?"

" Can i kiss you?"

You grinned wide as you kissed him as impatiently as he asked you to. He caressed your cheek with one hand and the other travelled to your waist and pulled you close. He smiled against your lips and parted with a peck.

" You can't believe how lucky i feel right now." He whispered , his thumb wiping your bottom lip.

" I can't believe i actually confessed."

" It's all thanks to my food. Thank me."

" Oh please... "

" .... Seriously what did you put in the food?"

likes and reblogs are appreciated :)

#jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason x reader #dc x reader #dc x you #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #jason todd fluff #dc fluff

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