#anthony would simply not let go | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bosbas · 6 months ago

Text

Chapter 2: I won't confess that I waited, but I let the lamp burn

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: anthony bridgerton x fem!daphne's best friend!reader WC: 2.1k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love, i still ship daphne and y/n tbh, daphne kinda going wild but i still love her your honor she's just a girl

Summary: At her wit's end after Anthony's multiple attempts to scare away her suitors, Daphne employs her best friend's help to keep her brother distracted while she tries to find a husband. It's a foolproof plan, except it ends up working a little too well. (or, a Bridgerton version of The Taming of the Shrew/10 things I hate about you)

May 27, 1812 - It was two weeks after Daphne had finally started being able to talk to her suitors, and you couldn’t help but feel your excitement bubbling when you saw her speaking with Phillip Norwood once again. He had little money, at least for Mayfair standards, and no title to speak of, but he made your best friend laugh. And that was all you really wanted from the man who would potentially be her husband.

You were interrupted from over-analyzing Daphne’s body language toward her suitor by someone clearing their throat next to you.

“Anthony!” you exclaimed as you turned, happy to see him. “I hadn't seen you tonight, my apologies.”

Just as the eldest Bridgerton began to respond, you caught Daphne laughing what could only be described as a flirty giggle, while Mr Norwood placed a hand on her upper arm. Distracted, you squinted to see if your best friend had placed a hand on his arm, too. You couldn’t wait until tomorrow when you would hear all about this encounter. You had been hearing about Mr Norwood for a few days now, and it was endearing to see how taken Daphne was with him.

“Hmm?” you asked Anthony, having entirely missed what he had said.

“I was just wondering whether you were going to… ask me to dance,” repeated Anthony, uncharacteristically hesitant.

You distractedly took in his words, tearing your eyes away from Daphne and seeing the man in front of you nervously rubbing his neck as he waited for your response.

“Oh, right,” you said, remembering where you were. You were supposed to stop Daphne’s brother from obsessing over her and her suitor, not obsessing over them yourself!

“The past few balls you’ve asked me to dance; I had just come to expect it at this point,” continued Anthony, still seeming a bit off-kilter as he reminded you that dancing with him had become a quasi-routine. “I didn’t know whether I’d done something to upset you or if you simply didn’t feel like dancing tonight.”

Seeing Phillip start to kiss Daphne’s gloved hand out of the corner of your eye brought you back to your senses completely.

“Not at all; I’d love to dance!” you blurted out, turning Anthony so his sister and her admirer were directly behind him.

You quickly grabbed Anthony’s hand and led him to the dance floor, tripping over yourself in an attempt to distract your best friend’s brother.

Almost instinctually, Anthony grabbed your waist to keep you from falling, an arm placed firmly around you as he held you close to him. When you finally felt solid ground again, you met his eyes.

“Thank you,” you breathed, suddenly feeling extremely aware of where his hands were placed and just how close your chest was to his. “I’ve just been a tad distracted tonight,” you apologized, doing your best to ignore how close his mouth was to yours.

Once again, as had become habitual, the pair of you began to dance. In all honesty, it was a delightful endeavor, at least for you. It was quite unexplainable, really, but you and Anthony seemed to move as one, and you had never expected something as simple as a dance to feel so… right.

“This is the first time you’ve asked me to dance, you know,” you teased Anthony as he spun you around.

“Is it?” he responded, amused at your observation. “Would you like me to call on you tomorrow, too, or is asking you for a dance enough?”

You knew he was only teasing, but you grew flustered nonetheless, tripping over your feet and almost falling to the ground once again. Even though Anthony was there to steady you with a hand on your hip and another wrapped around you, you ripped his hands away from you.

“No! That wasn’t– I mean, I didn’t–” you spluttered, an unexplained panic rising in you.

“I was only joking, Y/N,” he said softly, eyes wide as he took in your extreme reaction to what was meant to be a light-hearted comment. He supposed you very well and truly weren’t interested in him. And though this was a fact he knew already, this did nothing to quell the slight pang of disappointment he felt as he looked at the beautiful woman in front of him.

As the music ended and he led you back to the crowd, Anthony muttered to himself, “Though there are only so many times we can dance without courting before it’s considered improper.”

He shouldn’t have asked you to dance tonight, he scolded himself. Look at you, practically trembling at the mere idea of Anthony calling on you tomorrow. He should have just let it lie and not come to talk to you tonight. As was his nature, he would never forgive himself if your standing in the ton suffered because of a silly crush he could never act upon.

“Would it really be considered a scandal?” you inquired, feeling a tad self-conscious because you and Anthony had danced at every ball for the last two weeks.

Mortified, he turned to face you properly. “I didn’t mean for you to hear that,” he apologized. “But I promise you have nothing to worry about. It's only been a few dances, and seeing how close you are to our family it's hardly worthy of any gossip.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, you nodded at Anthony, feeling much more calm.

Trying to lighten the mood, you teased him. “I didn’t know you cared what people thought of you, seeing how you’re the biggest rake in all of England, and probably beyond, too."

He rolled his eyes bashfully, never until this moment having felt embarrassed about how easily he was able to charm women, unmarried or otherwise.

“Well, I don’t care about what it means for me,” he said as if it were obvious. “I have no plans to marry anytime soon. But I’d like for you to be able to court anyone you want whenever you feel ready.”

“Oh,” you breathed, taken aback by how earnest Anthony was being. “I didn’t know you were so concerned about my prospects,” you said finally.

Quite nonchalantly, Anthony responded, “I vowed to my father to take care of you and my sisters, and I have no plans of betraying that promise.”

You felt your face growing hot. Perhaps it was the sincerity of the Bridgerton’s words, or perhaps it was how easily he showed his concern for you, but you had never felt quite so taken care of.

Your mouth was wholly uncooperative, and you couldn’t find the words to respond. Instead, you reached for Anthony’s hand and squeezed it, hoping it was enough to communicate how much you appreciated him.

His easy smile as he squeezed your hand back told you that he had heard your message with clarity.

Turning to scan the ballroom, Anthony grumbled, “Now where on Earth is Daphne? If she’s with that Norwood fellow again I swear I’ll ban her from leaving the house again.”

“I'm sure I have no idea,” you said innocently, having just seen the pair hand in hand as they made their way to the dance floor.

“Good-for-nothing rake without even so much as a title,” he muttered, setting off in the direction of his mother in the hope that she would know where Daphne was.

You shook your head amusedly. It was alarmingly easy to slip into this routine with him. You had known the Bridgertons for most of your life, but it had never felt so… natural with any of the other boys in the family as it did with Anthony recently.

But you paid this no mind. At least Daphne was getting to find a love match, Phillip Norwood or otherwise. So what if you were having a bit of fun with your ploy? You got to dance at ton balls without having to court anyone and watch your best friend fall in love at the same time. There didn’t really seem to be any downsides to Daphne’s little plan.

—

“Daphne, I can’t do that,” you insisted, your voice firm. "I don't even want to do that!"

“Please, Y/N. It’s the only way,” she begged.

Standing in front of you in your sunroom, on a perfectly normal Friday, she was asking you to start properly courting Anthony. As if it wasn't one of the most preposterous things you'd ever heard. As if your worth in society as a woman came almost entirely from whom you married, and she was asking you to make a mockery of it.

It had been two weeks of you breaking all social norms and asking Anthony to dance with you, and in the meantime, Daphne had managed to find a gentleman she actually liked. You should have known from the way she looked at Phillip, but it seemed that Mr Norwood wasn't just another suitor. He truly seemed to make your best friend happy, but you wondered if it was worth it for you if you had to court her brother.

Setting your feelings aside, you remembered that hadn’t seen Daphne this happy since before she came out last year, and it was upsetting to know that it could all go away if you decided to discontinue your ruse.

“Daphne, I don’t know that this is such a good idea,” you said, not as resistant as earlier but certainly not on board. Yet. "What is your goal with this? I can't for the life of me see how this would be more effective than just continuing to dance with him.”

“I would never force you to do this, and I would never want you to feel like you have to do it,” Daphne started, prioritizing your friendship as usual. “You are correct. Getting the chance to meet Mr Norwood has been absolutely wonderful and I am forever grateful to you for it. However, one dance every other evening is simply not enough to build a courtship. I need to properly be able to actually speak with Phillip when he calls on me, and I can’t very well do that if Anthony is watching me like a hawk. I would be able to do all of the regular courtship activities my brother does not allow me to if he is busy courting someone himself.”

Admittedly, she had a point. You found yourself nodding, not terribly repulsed by the idea of having Anthony show up at your door the morning after a ball with a bouquet, despite what you'd told Daphne earlier.

“But how exactly would this end?” you pressed. “Anthony and I can’t very well get married.”

Though you wanted nothing more than happiness and fulfillment for your best friend, courting the most well-known rake in all of Mayfair could have consequences for you, too. It was true, you weren’t particularly interested in marrying this season, but being romantically associated with the likes of Anthony Bridgerton was bound to start some gossip around Mayfair. So would ending said romantic association, which you knew had to happen eventually. As much as he was a rake, Anthony was one of the most desired bachelors in polite society, and ending a courtship with him might inadvertently harm your social standing.

Squealing, Daphne grabbed your hands and led you to the chaise near the window. As you sat down, she started talking excitedly.

“Well, it would only be for a few weeks. A month, at most. Or at least until it’s obvious enough that we’re getting married and my brother can’t do anything about it,” she assured you. “That will be enough time to have a proper courtship, and you can break things off with Anthony.”

You hum, deep in thought. “Won’t Anthony be upset?” you asked. Daphne knew him best, of course, but this seemed like the sort of thing that would tick off a man. That is, starting a courtship that was never bound to result in anything.

“You know he has no interest in marrying anyway, so I doubt you ending the courtship would be of concern.”

“That’s a fair point,” you agreed reluctantly. “He did mention that it might be seen as improper that we dance together so often yet aren’t properly courting. And though I don’t want to marry this season, I would eventually like to find someone. So I suppose this is what makes the most sense.”

Daphne squealed again, reaching over to hug you. “Oh, you truly are the best friend anyone could ever ask for.”

You giggled at her excitement, relieved that you could help your best friend find a fairy-tale love. And besides, you wouldn’t mind having to spend more time with Anthony.

—

previous part || next part || buy me a ko-fi!

Turn on post notifications for @bosbas-library to stay updated when I post!

733 notes · View notes

lqveharrington · 7 months ago

Text

Your Letters, My Life | A.B.

summary: you and anthony were supposed to be engaged by the time you were ready to debut, but you moved away to america only to come back a few years later as a different person.

pairing: anthony bridgerton x fem!reader

includes: fluff and angst, like a lot of angst

a/n: uhmmm, i picked a random song from my playlist and wrote about it

When you were younger, you and Anthony Bridgerton were inseparable. Long ago, the Bridgertons and the Kensingtons through the most extraordinary balls and often left you two to be in charge of the young ones, causing you both to get closer and closer until both families knew something else was going to bloom from their predicament. They watched the two of you grow into teens, completely enamored with one another.

“Anthony, you simply cannot ask a woman of her age!” You smack his chest with your fan as your mother and his mother conversed about some stock in the America’s. “It’s rude.”

“I’m merely asking when you are to debut.” He shifted and tossed his feet up on your dress. Anthony grinned when you pushed his legs off in disgust and threw his hands up in the air. “You turn of age in a few months, I become of age to court soon, it’s perfect.”

Your gaze softens at the mere thought of living a life with Anthony and the rest of the Bridgertons. You adored his mother and father, you loved taking care of his younger siblings, it was almost like it was written in the stars. But before you could say anything, your mother and his appeared by your side, both their eyes shining with tears.

“Mama, what’s wrong?” You immediately stand and take her hands in your own, Anthony copying your movements. “What happened?”

She shook her head and kissed your cheek, “Nothing, darling… Nothing at all.”

You glanced at Anthony from the corner of your eye only to see him shrug in confusion. Sighing, you leaned in for an embrace and pulled your handkerchief from your pocket, handing it to your mother.

Little did you and Anthony know that this was one of the last times you were to see one another.

When you returned home, all your things were packed up and stored in multiple trunks. Your siblings’ stuff was packed in their own baggage and your house was bare of any living memory. Your steps faltered at the sight and your father came around soon enough to explain.

Your heart broke when he told you that the family was moving to America. He said something about growing an empire, but all you heard was muffled noises. Moving to America meant losing everything you loved back in England. So you did what any logical teenage girl would do.

You ran. You ran toward the Bridgerton house. You ran toward Anthony. You ran with promises of being his forever. You ran straight into his arms and begged him to never let you go.

When your families finally pried you both from each other, you both were left heartbroken. For a few months, you both kept up with one another until one day the letters stopped coming. He stopped updating you about what was happening back in the Bridgerton household and you had stopped sending letters when you didn’t get anything back.

And it wouldn’t be until ten years that you spoke to each other once more.

As the carriage made its way toward the front and the first passenger stepped down to help the rest of those on board, Anthony finally realized who came to visit them. The shiny crest around the carriage said everything he needed to know.

His gaze shifted from Duke Kensington to the Duchess then finally toward the children. Your two younger brothers came out first before you followed suit, both boys helping you down before you whacked them both with a fan, making your mother send a glare toward the three of you.

You pursed your lips and held back a laugh when she turned back around, letting your brothers lead you towards the front. Your own gaze admired the place you practically grew up in before they landed on the family standing in front of you. The family you loved just as your own stood with beaming smiles, each and every face grownup. Even the youngest Bridgerton — who you learned long before was Hyacinth — looked so grown. You missed so much.

By the time you finished looking the younger Bridgertons over, your eyes did one final sweep before they found familiar brown eyes you once knew all too well.

“So the fair duchess returns.” Anthony murmured and took his own time to look over you, knowing you were even more beautiful over the years. He glanced down to your gloved hands and squinted before meeting your eyes again. “It’s summer.”

You rolled your eyes and folded your hands together, fan tucked neatly under your arms. “And I wish to wear gloves during the summer. Is that such a crime, Viscount?”

His eyes widened at your voice before realizing the rest of your family — well, the boys and your mother — had spoken the same way. Ten years worth of living in America and you lost your natural voice. “Your voice.”

“Oh, I know. I didn’t realize I lost it until my papa pointed it out.” You subconsciously mess with your ring finger, thumbing the space there.

“It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.” He noted and tilted his head when you did, a smile appearing on both your faces. “What?”

You shook your head and hit him on the chest with your fan. He took the fan from your hands and fluttered it around himself, making you laugh. “I missed you, Anthony.”

He tilted his head down and chuckled, handing you back the fan. “I missed you as well.” He met your eyes once more before clearing his throat and motioning toward the row of siblings beside him. “Have you met the youngest yet?”

“Not yet. It seems as if someone forgot to introduce me.” You raise your brows and take the crook of his elbows as he offers it, leading you toward a glowing Hyacinth.

For the rest of the day, your family and the Bridgertons caught up with everything happening in life. From new friends and foes to births and losses. You spoke with Eloise to learn the newest gossip around the Ton, you and Daphne spoke about the fashion differences in the two countries, Hyacinth wanted to learn about how her siblings were before you left, Benedict asked about the different art styles, Colin wanted to know everywhere you’ve been, and Gregory simply wanted to know how to say certain words in an American accent. Anthony was a whole other story.

Anthony grew up faster than anyone else. The death of his father caused him to become Viscount at such a young age, almost burdening him. He had to care for all his family’s accounts while helping his mother with his siblings, practically raising Gregory and Hyacinth.

“Tell me about being Viscount.” You followed Anthony around the gardens, hands free from the gloves but clasped behind your back. “Was it everything you dreamed of?”

“It’s certainly a lot more paperwork than I thought.” He chuckled out and turned his head to look back at his siblings, watching them play pall-mall with your siblings. “I didn’t expect to be Viscount so soon, after all.”

You send him a sad smile. You liked Viscount Edmund Bridgerton and it was sad to hear that he passed at such a young age.

The sound of the siblings cheering from far away made you smile before you found yourself wondering. “Is there a Viscountess I don’t know about?”

Anthony raised his brows at how bluntly you asked but shrugged. “I don’t expect to get one until Hyacinth debuts.”

You part your lips in shock. It would be years until Hyacinth debuted and you knew his mama wouldn’t wait that long to pass down the title. Sooner or later, he would have to marry.

“I’ll wait for a worthy Viscountess.” He cleared his throat and tilted his head to you. “Just like I waited for you to come back to visit.”

“You waited?” You asked, although it sounded like a statement. You squinted and crossed your arms, thumb messing with your ring finger again. “I have waited ten years so hear back from you only to receive no letter back every time I sent one to you.”

“Letters? I never received anything back from you!”

You scoffed and met his gaze with a glare. “I find that hard to believe considering I sent you letters for a month before stopping.”

“I tried for a whole year. Do you think I really wanted to stop talking to you? After everything we did and promise to each other?” Anthony pointed to himself with so much emotion you almost wanted to go back in time and change everything that happened leading up to this moment.

“Don’t—“

“Don’t what? I—“

“Anthony! More people have arrived!” Hyacinth rushed over with her pink mallet, smiling brightly at you although she was out of breath.

Anthony turned his head to his sister, adjusting his top and cuffs. “Do you know who, Hyacinth?”

Hyacinth shook her head and pointed toward the man walking their way, a small girl in his arms looking around in amazement. “No, but he’s American. He said he’s name was Thomas Baker.“

“Tom.” You breathed out and excused yourself from them, quickly making your way over to him.

“Hi, darling.” Tom kissed your cheek and held you close by the waist, noticing your slightly distressed eyes. He creased his brows and looked behind you before looking back at you. “What’s wrong?”

“What are you doing here? I thought you were staying in the city with Penny.” You murmur and smile when she giggled at your sudden presence, her small hands reaching out to you.

She tugged and tugged until Tom finally gave her to you, her head tucking into your neck. “Mama.”

“She fussed and wanted her mama.” Tom kissed Penny’s cheek as she smiled at her father and hid her face again when he stuck her tongue out at her. You laughed and tilted your head up when he spoke again. “And I missed you.”

You grin and give him a quick kiss before turning your attention back to your sweet girl who was still in amazement with the entire scene. “What’re you looking at, sweet girl?”

“Maybe the man who’s glaring at us.” Tom murmured and held you closer. He eyed the man up and down, confused as to why he truly was glaring at him like he killed a man. “He looks like he might send us off back onto the ship and back to America.”

“Hush.” You use the back of your hand to smack him before leading him to the family — who now gathered by you to see the newcomers. “Tom, Penny, this is the Bridgerton family. Bridgertons, this is my husband and my daughter.”

“You have a child?”

“You’re married?”

“When did this all happen?”

“I could’ve been a flower girl?”

You laugh softly at all the different questions and leaned your head on Tom’s chest, Penny doing the same to you. The sight of all the Bridgertons circling around you and cooing over your three-year-old made your heart melt, and the older boys talking to your husband made you happy that they could get along.

Well, everyone but Anthony.

“How… Lovely.” Anthony spoke through his teeth, still glaring daggers into Tom like he could disintegrate him.

Daphne gasped and repeatedly tapped Eloise’s arm in realization. “Was that why you were wearing a glove? Did you not wish for us to see the ring?”

You shrugged and finally showed them your ring, Violet gasping at house expensive it was. “It would’ve come up a different time. I wanted to know you all better first.”

Penny began to get fussy and you let her down, watching her run around the garden as a butterfly passed. You and Tom kept your eyes on her as the family spoke to you, but for the split second you looked away, Anthony approached her and handed her a flower. Penny smiled up at him, taking the flower and running toward you.

You looked down when you felt tugging on your dress and accepted the flower. “Where did you get this, baby?”

She pointed to Anthony — who was standing further away from the group. You pursed your lips and tucked the flower in Penny’s hair before picking her up again.

You knew. The second you met his brown eyes again, you knew that nothing was ever going to be the same again.

#august’s works 🫧#anthony bridgerton x female reader #anthony bridgerton fluff #anthony bridgerton fic #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton smut #anthony bridgerton angst #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x you #bridgerton fic #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #jonathan bailey

756 notes · View notes

hoahoahoahoahoa · 1 month ago

Text

New Moon au where Bella leaves and Edward stays… even though Bella’s still the one getting dumped

Edward breaks up with her in the woods and skedaddles, same as canon. But instead of curling up in the woods, Bella's mind kinda snaps and she decides she, too, is leaving.

She tries to follow Edward, same as she does in canon, and just... keeps going. Maybe she tries to track the Cullens down at first, because even if they can run stupid fast, they do settle down for years at a time. They're not actually moving targets. After however long she realizes the futility because she has so little to go on and they're very good at disappearing when need be (and mega rich enough to move to some remote chalet in Norway or whathaveyou).

Ironically, Bella couldn't convince Edward to stay with her words, but her leaving has the whole family essentially stuck there. When she decided to not go home, Alice got visions of search parties, missing posters and tv coverage, and a lot of suspicion on her boyfriend and his strange, reclusive family. To minimize the scrutiny, the Cullens returned to Forks. Edward has to pretend that he never tried to leave her (disappearance after a break-up means more suspicion of foul play), but he doesn't need to pretend he's appropriately aggrieved over Bella's disappearance.

Eventually, Bella gives up on doesn't so much give up on her search for the Cullens as she lets herself go numb and embraces the anonymity of leaving her life and identity behind. She pulls a Buffy Summers and gets a job as a waitress under a false name at a diner so generic that Alice can't pinpoint where the hell it is from her visions. In fact, Bella's derealization and disassociation are so thorough that she becomes a blank spot in Alice's sight altogether. Sam's participation in the search parties messes with her scent trail in the woods. Tracking Bella becomes just about impossible.

Edward knows she's smart and resourceful, but as far as anyone can tell she never came back for her wallet and truck, never packed a bag... if she didn't die within days from exposure or a bear, she's living a very hard life in a big dangerous world, all on her own. And it's not like her to not call and tell her parents that she's okay, at least.

So yes, Edward Anthony "Paranoia" Masen Cullen is fully convinced she's dead, and fucking off to Volterra about it will bring too much scrutiny to his family, so he can't bring himself to do it. He drops out of Forks for "homeschooling" because he simply cannot do high school anymore (he doesn't know which thoughts are more agonizing: those believing he killed her himself [he agrees with them, more or less], or pity over his grief). Occasionally he'll parade himself around town just to be seen, but otherwise he curls up in the woods. <Possibility.mp3>

I can't really decide where it goes from there:

-Maybe Bella eventually comes back of her own volition. A little hardened, better-traveled, she's learned a lot. Most importantly, she's learned that even at her lowest, she can still get by on her own. When Edward catches wind of it (literally, he catches her scent when he's out for his daily mope around the woods behind the Swan house) he wonders if a dead man can have a heart attack

-Once Bella has healed enough, Alice can see her again and manages to piece together where she is. The right thing to do would be to tip Charlie off, but she's an adult and doesn't appear to be in danger, so do they respect her apparent choice to disappear? Enough time has passed that Edward can leave Forks to track her down, but can he bring himself to ruin the little bit of peace she's carved out for herself once he finds her? (spoiler: he can't resist, but he just watches her for a while at first, and he's not as sneaky as he thinks, so she thinks she's just hallucinating him)

-???? help

#hoa5 #twilight #the twilight saga #new moon #bella x edward #bella swan #alice's gift relying on the decision-making process has so many implications that I love to explore #i fully believe that impaired cognition could fuck with it

193 notes · View notes

frost-queen · 2 months ago

Text

The search is afoot (Reader!Bridgerton x Sherlock Holmes)

Requested by: anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @floatlosers, @alex–awesome–22, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown, @wildiefleur , @meyocoko , @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23, @melsunshine , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedrava-bitch-187, @erikasurfer , @slythetic , @eliscannotdance, @p0nycurtis, @slythetic, @bitchybananaflower, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @sweetheartlizzie07, @aardvarks-and-bats

Your curiosity sparked when your sister entered the drawing room. Posture slightly bend, head turning from side to side. Clearly in search for anything. You slammed the novel shut you were boringly reading. Tossing it aside on the sofa between you and Anthony. Hopping up to meet your sister half-way.

“Looking for something?” – you asked. Eloise hummed soft. Bending down to catch a glimpse underneath the sofa’s. You moved aside when she came nearly pushing you over. Agitated she kept searching in silence. To Anthony’s annoyance. – “Just communicate.” – he spoke with a sigh.

Eloise’s posture straightened. Her hands settling with a shove at her side. – “I seemed to have lost my notebook.” – she admitted in a frustrated tone. – “The blue one with some pencil markings on it?” – you questioned curiously. Your sister humming loud.

You clasped your hands together in delight. Eyes twinkling in delight. You then cleared your throat, moving your hands to your back. – “Where did you last saw it?” – you asked, tapping a finger thoughtfully against your chin. – “Between what hours was it? Was anything out of the ordinary?” – you continued asking, circling around her. Eloise gaped confusingly back at you.

“No.” – Anthony called out, getting up as well. He came running over to you, grabbing you by your elbows. – “We are not doing this, Y/n.” – he let know. – “But…” – you responded when he started shoving you away from Eloise. – “This is a serious matter. It needs investigating.” – finishing to proclaim your intentions. Anthony sighed loud. – “You are not a detective Y/n!” – making clear. – “But…” – you repeated being shoved towards the door.

Anthony shoved you outside, holding the door frames with both his hands. You huffed annoyed at his behaviour. – “Get your head out of the clouds.” – were his final words before shutting the door in front of you. The sudden shut, startled you. Puffing annoyed, you crossed your arms. Turning away to mope. Colin crossing the hall, caught a glimpse of you. Making him pause in this stride. – “You alright, sister?” – he questioned, coming over.

With a distress sigh, you untangled your arms. – “Anthony is being mean to me again.” – you called out. – “How so?” – Colin furrowing his brows. Approaching as he rustled his fingers through your hair. You took a deep breath. – “Eloise has lost her notebook and I simply wanted to help look for it.” – you explained. Colin letting out a long ‘aah’ as he understood. – “You’ve been playing detective again haven’t you?” – he replied.

“I just wanted to help and he tossed me out!” – you dramatically called out for it being the worst. Colin only chuckled, patting his hand on your shoulder. – “I know I shouldn’t say this, but you should read less… specially those mystery novels. Look how filled your head is with it.” – he spoke, making you shove his hand annoyed away. – “You just don’t understand me.” – raising your voice to him.

With force, you let your shoulder bump into his to shove him out of the way. –“ Y/n, I!” – Colin called out. Sighing afterwards as it was no use. You stomped angrily up the stairs. Not caring if you were being too loud. Crossing the upper floors, you paused near Eloise’s room. Humming curiously before entering. Door still open as you look around. – “Where would one misplace a notebook.” – you mumbled to yourself.

Getting on your knees, you looked underneath her bed. Going through her drawers and searching in every nook and cranny. Your searching brought some noise along, drawing the attention of your youngest brother Gregory. He walked past, furrowed his brows and simply walked backwards. Staring confused back at you.

“What are you doing?” – he questioned. – “Searching.” – you replied, ignoring him half to keep your attention on your search. – “Mother!” – Gregory then shouted loud into the hallway. – “Y/n is playing detective again!” – he finished making you widen your eyes. Dropping everything to rush over to him with a shushing tone. Covering up his mouth with your hand.

“Quiet, Gregs.” – you let out with a hard stare. Gregory wiggled his head free, trying to shout for mother again. – “Mo… mother!” – he repeated making you struggle to keep his mouth shut. – “Stop it!” – stomping your foot on the ground. Gregory kept shouting against your hand with muffled sounds.

Groaning loud, you decided to take a run for it. Picking up the hem of your skirt, rushing towards the stairs. Huffing and puffing loud at the dismay of your family. Dismay for recognizing your talents. To not let you go with your admirations and interests. Claiming it to be foolish and absurd. For no lady could become a detective or should concern themselves with mysteries.

Anthony blamed it on the novels you had been reading. Colin blaming in on the Holmes’s. Close friends to the family. For the Holmes’s had an interest in solving mysteries as well. You ran for the door, leaving the household. Needing to have an escape from your siblings taunting. You hated their mocking. For not taking you serious on that matter. Going straight for the streets. Running away a couple of streets away till you slowed down. Sure that none of your siblings would pursuit.

Catching your breath, you enjoyed a nice walk. Clearing your head and getting rid of the annoyance lingering inside of towards your brothers. You loved them dearly, but hated that they didn’t took your interest serious. Calling it un-lady-like. A waste of time. Idle hobby’s to skip lessons. All calling it such things to make you lose interest in it. Looking around, you narrowed your eyes slightly.

Trying to read people like so many detectives did in your novels. Trying to read their stories off their faces and gestures. Moving closer to a vender, you tried to understand snippets of his life. Taking a keen eye of his hands. Seeing how rough they were. Calluses on his knuckles. Then your gaze went further up, meeting up with a pair of angry eyes. The vender cleared this throat loud at you for staring. Changing your expression, you pulled up a humble smile. Apologizing.

Moving a bit away, you recognized some voices. Turning round you saw Enola and her brother Sherlock leave a shop. Knowing mystery always followed them, you couldn’t withhold your excitement. Wanting to be a part of it. Leaving the vender, you hurried over. Making sure you weren’t trampled by a passing carriage on the road. – “Splendid day is it not, Mister Holmes.” – you breathed out, catching your breath from hasting over.

Sherlock and Enola paused when you came jumping in front of them. – “No.” – Sherlock immediately responded already knowing your intentions. He tugged Enola at her arm to follow. You weren’t going to let him win so easily, going after him. – “I didn’t say anything.” – you told him, hot on his tail. Sherlock stopped abruptly, making you nearly bump against his back. He swiftly spun around.

“Your eyes made it clear, you had alternative intentions, also did your posture.” – he started pointing out with his finger. – “The tone in your voice gave you away that you are seeking. Not to mention the flush in your cheeks indicates you hurried over because you knew we might be solving a mystery.” – he answered.

“Are you?” – you responded ignoring most of his speech. – “No.” – Sherlock said clear, turning his back to you once more. – “I know you are lying to me, just let me join.” – you begged going after him. – “No miss Y/n.” – he repeated, staying true to his words. – “Please mister Holmes.” – you reached for his elbow, pulling it towards you.

Wanting him to stop walking. – “No, miss Y/n.” – he called out like speaking to a puppy to sit still. You pouted your lips in response. Enola pressed her lips together to withhold a snicker. – “Fine, you are just scared.” – you called out once he had begun walking away again. – “Scared that I’ll solve it before you.” – hoping to get under his skin would do the trick.

“A man’s observing eye is not that great. Not compared to a woman’s eye.” – you casually said to give him that extra nudge. Admiring your own hands out of boredom. To look indifferent. Enola glanced from between her brother to you. Sherlock puffed his chest, being riled up by you. – “Ha!” - he let out with a hard sound. Intended for mockery.

“Intimidated?” – you questioned moving your hands behind your back. Leaning a bit closer to him. Sherlock puffed loud. Suddenly grabbing you firm by your arm. Pulling you along. Enola snickering quietly at the display. You chuckled amusingly, pleased that your scheme had succeeded.

Sherlock led you to a place, shoving you inside. – “One wrong thing and you are out.” – he warned you. – “You sound like my brothers.” – you replied moving past him with crossed arms. Sherlock shot his sister a scowl to stop smiling like a damn fool. You entered the room with a humming sound. Cheerful that you could involve yourself with mysteries.

You looked around the room, going straight to a painting that caught your eyes. Before you could fully reach it, you felt a gip on your elbow stop you. Sherlock shaking his head as he pulled you away from the painting. Making you huff annoyed, trying to free you from his grip. – “Why do you go for the most obvious thing. First observe then search.” – he spoke.

“Don’t go running in like a blind fool.” – he finished letting go of your arm back by the door. – “Who are you calling a fool?” – you called back. – “You.” – Sherlock tapped his finger on your nose to tease you that extra. It made you scrunch your nose and slap his hand away. You crossed your arms, looking at the room. Sherlock staring in silently, trying to take in every detail. Enola scribbling some notes down. Sherlock began moving from his position after a while.

He stepped a certain way, suddenly stopping. Looking down as he lifted his shoe up. Seeing something black and sticky underneath his shoe. It made you laugh loud. – “If you would’ve been observant, you might have seen that there had clearly been a struggle. The desk is slightly shoved back over the wooden flooring, hinting those scrape marks.” – you approached him with a smug expression.

“If you had observed that, you would’ve also seen that the commotion had tipped the ink bottle over.” – pointing in a certain direction as Sherlock followed your point with his gaze. – “For the ink bottle is over there, where is normally would be on the desk. Someone must have picked it up and moved it away. Perhaps trying to clean it up, but forgot a spot near the carpet… you are currently standing in.”

Sherlock kept staring at you. – “She’s good.” – his sister spoke with a pleasant smile. Sherlock hummed deep, fidgeting with something in his hand. Looking with a quizzable brow from you to his sister and back. Fighting hard the urge to compliment you for your observations.

“As I said, a woman’s eye.” – you repeated holding out a handkerchief to him. He curled up a smile at your silliness. – “Do continue then, miss Y/n.” – he gestured at you to go on. Bending a bit down to clean the underside of his shoe from ink. You hummed soft looking thoughtfully around. His sister was looking around as well. Taking notes near a knights suit.

Displayed for art from a long time ago. Enola narrowed her eyes on it. Her brother’s calling catching her off guard. Making her turn sharply around, but accidentally knocking an elbow against the armour. The armour started to wobble back and forth. Enola gasping loud as she jumped aside.

The armour came falling forwards towards you as you were the next close target. – “Miss Y/n!” – Sherlock shouted out, coming to the rescue. Rushing over to you, wrapping his arms around you. Turning you away, keeping you in his arms.

Staring up close to your face, panting quietly on your lips as the armour clattered to the ground behind him. Enola gasped again with her hands up to her mouth. – “I’m so sorry.” – she let out in shock. Her brother’s eyes still on you. – “Are you alright miss Y/n?” – he questioned. You nodded with a bashful flush in your cheeks. He slowly rose your posture up so you stood steady on your feet once more.

His hands still on you, till his sister made him aware of it. Making him clear his throat, immediately dropping his grip. Quickly turning away, scratching the back of his head in the process. You swallowed hard, turning away as well. Wanting to hide the fluster in your cheeks. With a nervous atmosphere, the two of you focused on the matter once more. Unaware of the Holmes gentleman catching glimpses of you.

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

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

254 notes · View notes

silencedloves · 1 month ago

Text

El diamante (The Dimond)

Pairing: Hispanic!reader x Anthony Bridgerton

Prounouns: She/her, female reader

Warnings: Using spanish, Spanish not translated, not historically acurate, regency period

“I yearn for someone fresh, someone unexpected, to turn this season on its head.” The queen conversed while she walked through her home

“That is what we need. There is no room for indifference. Apathy is a blight the monarchy simply cannot endure.”

“Of course, Your Majesty. But remember, a young lady cannot be a diamond until you about her as such.” Lady Danbury pointed out walking along side the queen.

“So if for any reason you do not find one among the candidate today—“

“Do you think she will return? We have heard Bart a peep from lady Whistledown since last season ended.” The queen interrupted her changing the topic

“Perhaps the writer came to her senses. Perhaps she realized taking down her queen was a bad idea,and she will never publish again.”

“It is a convincing theory, ma’am.” Lady Danury said.

“Or. She simply left for the country as the rest of us did in the off-season, bored by the lack of any real gossip.”

“Hmm.”

“You do know what that would make her, then?”

She looked at Lady Danbury then looked of at distance in disgust.

“One of us.” The queen then walked off while Lady Danbury was still in thought.

“Hmm….”

~~~

“My task this season cannot be exceptionally difficult.” Viscount Bridgerton said as they were in their way to the castle talking with his siblings.

“Hasting did it after all. How hard can it be?”

“Ah. Spoken with feeling too.” Benedict looked at his little brother with a playful face a hand over his heart while sticking his bottom lip out mimicking a pout.

“I do not need feeling.” Anthony informed them

“What I need is what I have, and that is a list. Tolerable, dutiful, suitable enough hips for childbearing, and at least half a brain.” Anthony listed off what he would hope to at least find in the woman he was to marry.

“And the last part is not so much a requirement but a preference, in fact.” The sibling just nodded along with a smile on their face uninterested on what he’s saying looking out of the carriage window.

••••

“Mama do not fret, it will be alright. Shouldn’t I be the one nervous?” Y/n giggled a bit trying to lighten the mood.

“Bueno.. it's just what if I make a fool of myself? We’ve never been to one of these things.” Y/n’s mother has been nervously playing with her pearl bracelet all this time. It is habit she did as y/n noticed when she was bothered by something.

“We will be fine ama, we’ll just walk in there and act like we know what’s going on. Just fake it till we make it! No te preocupes.” Y/n reached out to hold her mothers hands that were playing with her bracelet, giving her a warm smile.

Mother lets out a heavy sigh looking up to her daughters eyes and smiles back. “You are right, as always. Lo agarras de mi.” she laughs a it and Y/n moves back leaving her mothers hands be. “Just remember look for a gentleman that will love you for you. Don’t change yourself.”

“Ofcourse.” Y/n once again smiles at her mom with love. I couldn’t be more luckier to have her.

Y/n never liked the idea to marry. I mean who in their right mind would? Once you marry you’re trapped, if it’s not the right person it will crumble. At least that’s what she thought. It was exciting for her to go to balls only for dance, since she was a little girl it’s something she liked to do.

~~~

They were introducing everyone now, everyone awaiting to be named the diamond of the season. This was your first season, and oh my god everyone is so pretty! but oh did everyone look silly with the big feathers on their hairdos. With gorgeous white and gold silky gowns. You felt gourgeous in your own too it was such a good color combo. Your gown was also white, but it had gold flowers with the occasional hint of green of vines (as shown in the pics at the top!) that is what was different from yours to any other. But just like any other gown it was long and you also had feathers on your updo hairdo.

You were not out of your carrige just yet looking out the window. You were a bit behind on time, but your mama was assuring you its okay since your name was one of the lasts to be announced. Though as you arrived there were post boys coming out of the building and scattering off towards the town. People a minute after started coming out with what seemed a rectangular card that everyone had. You were already out of the carriage when peoples carriages started to arrive to pick them up.

“What is happening ma?” You we’re confused as to why people are starting to leave if the event wasn’t done yet.

“No lo se?” Your mother stood next to you eyes wondering towards everyone.

“Excuse me ma’am?” You heard a voice beside you it’s sounded like a child, as you turned you were met with one of the post boys a messenger bag on his shoulder with cards on hand.

“Yes?” You turned your body towards him with a light smile. His arm reached forward with a paper on hand.

“It is Lady Whistledown’s latest!” You took the piece of paper out of his hands and started to search for money in your money bag to give. And handed him coins.

The boy had his hand flat and you dropped the coins in his palm he thanked you with a big smile and ran away. You looked down at the paper and looked back up to see that’s everyone’s mamas had one. You had yet to see what all the buzz what’s about. With all of this you had forgotten why you were here in the first place. You handed the paper to your mama and asked her

“Do you think the queen already chose her diamond?” You looked at her fiddling with the finger tips of the gloves you were wearing. You felt her hands grab your own gently.

“There is no need for validation from the queen you are already my diamond.” You look up at her and see the smile that she always puts just for you the one that holds so much love. You smile at her too and squeeze her hands that we’re holding yours for a second and then depart.

“What will happen now then?” Your return to gazing at the people who are gossiping to each other.

“No lo se..” your mom reply’s “perhaps we should head home and read this new article.”

There were still family coming out of the building and there ones one in particular where a bunch of ladies started surrounding. Not the entire family but a person in particular. You furrow your brows and tried to get a peak at who it was but couldn’t because of the mob that was covering it. You looked around and spotted a girl that looked unamused and wanting to go home. She looked your way and you smiled and gave a nod. She reluctantly smiled back.

“Come along now.” Your mom said as she got into the carriage with you following along..

~~~~~~

“Oh I’m so glad that’s over” Eloise said taking her feather off that’s was so ridiculous she said.

“Eloise at least have the decency to pretend you enjoyed it.” Mrs Bridgerton said smiling towards the other mamas.

“Oh mama Eloise never has the decency to do anything.” Benedict laughed at Anthony’s remark but then got caught off by Eloise smacking him in the chest.

“Ow!” Benedict dramatically put his hands over his chest.

“We will leave now right?” Gregory asked and Eloise smiled at him and enterwined her arm with his.

“At once!” But they were stopped when Violet stood in front of them.

“I will go say hi to the other mothers and you all will interact with.. I don’t know just be nice, okay?” She gave a pointed look at all her children and Eloise groaned and threw her head back.

“Eloise?” Her mother said in a stern voice. She looked back at her and nodded with a tight lipped smile.

“Yes mother.” Violet then looked at Anthony and smiled.

“And you.. you would love to talk to some ladies! Right?” She said the “ladies” part loudly so others could hear. Anthony burrowed his eyebrow at her and put a “why” face she just walked off to her friends while Eloise laughed and Benedict did as well. He then started to get crowded with all the ladies his family being pushed away from him.

“Oh uh hello.” He said looking at everyone that has come over to him wanting to talk. Looking for a way out he tried peering over all the sea of women. Seeing someone in the distance he got a peak of girl who he noticed was away from him and all this mess which he wanted to be away from also. So obviously without thinking he-

“It’s so lovely to talk to you all but if will excuse me I have someone expecting me.” Anthony gave everyone a tight smile like he always did and all the girls started to look at each other and saying “what’s?” And “who’s”

“While I appreciate all this attention I must get going” he quickly departed from the group.

“Miss, Miss!”

~~~~~~

You heard someone shouting behind you as you were about to enter the carriage you turn your head around to see what all the racket was about and got met with someone. You looked at each other for a moment. You turn you body fully towards him your back facing the carriage.

“Yes?” You breath out. You see him take a breath in and clear his throat as he wiped his hands in the sides of his pants.

“I believe we haven’t met..” he got closer and reached out for you hand and brought it up to his lips while making eye contact with you. You feel the warmth of his breath through your glove. After the kiss was broken you could feel the stares from the girls and mamas.

“I haven’t really met anyone yet so..” you smile a bit

“Well it is nice to meet you miss..” he trailed off wanting you to tell him your last name

“Y/l/n, y/n l/n…and you are?” You tilt your head to the side a bit looking at him

“Antony Bridgerton, Lord Bridgerton” He gives you a smile and puts his hands on his pants pockets.

“Lord bridgerton? Well it is nice to meet you.” You curtsied while you said that and then giggled after you saw him looking off to the side while he smiled and scoffed slightly in a joking manner.

“Y/n qué haces? Ya vámonos tengo hambre!” Your mom interrupts and you laugh a little and looked towards the closed carriage it.

“Ay voy ma! Estoy hablando con alguien.”

You look towards Anthony who had a smile on his face. You wondered why

“What?” You asked with a slight smile

“You speak Spanish?” He ask with an eyebrow raised

“It’s my native language ” you nodded

Your moms head then pops out of the carriage door

“Who are you talking to- oh! Que guapo es” your mom raised her eyebrow’s at you.

“Amaa” you looked at her and then at Anthony

“What’d she say?” He asked wondering what made you look so flustered

“It’s um it’s nothing important uh I need to go”

“Well it was lovely meeting you both. Mrs L/n my mother would love to make a new friend if you would ever like to have tea together.” Anthony smiled towards her

“Oh that sounds lovely! I will be sure to befriend her.” Your mother said with an enthusiastic tone she always loved meeting new people. She loves company.

Anthony then turns to you and once again kisses your hand. “We will meet again Miss l/n” he pulled away and you smiled at each other once more, he bowed at you and started to walk away to his own carriage. You glanced to the side and saw a group of girls staring at you and instantly looked away. They had such mean girl faces from jealousy.

“Ay Dios mío.” You whispered turning around and climbing up the carriage with the coachmen’s help.

A/n- hai loves! Apologies if there’s typos or grammar mistakes I made this and just wanted to post it. Feedback on my writing is greatly appreciated! If you’d like a part two just comment and I’ll see if I should 💞

Ps/ at some point I will translate Spanish just not right now <3

#hispanic!reader #fanfic #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x hispanic!reader #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton netflix #regency period

143 notes · View notes

oweninadaydream · 1 year ago

Text

𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 (𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞) || 𝐀.𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary : Can anybody blame a young lady for indulging in her deepest desires despite suspecting that the end is imminent?

song inspo: Fortnight by Taylor Swift (ft. Post Malone)

pairing : Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

word count : 1564 words

contains : rake!Anthony, unrequited? love, mentions of alcohol and I think that's it!

a/n : I am not the owner of the gif or the dividers ( I don't possess such talents jakjhakjshda). This will have a second part (already working on it). The next chapter of the Feel the rush series will be posted after my exams, sorry :((( Anyway, enjoy !!!

The maid finished working on (Y/N)’s makeup and she turned to look at the final product in the mirror. Her hair was perfectly held at the back of her neck with a chignon. Her grandmother’s diadem added that sophisticated touch the young woman craved. After taking in the breathtaking shade of her dress in the mirror, she started twirling and giggling around her chamber in a fairy manner. Someone could wonder, what on earth was going on inside the girl’s head? The answer was easy, yet so complicated. Lady (Y/L/N) was simply smitten with someone she knew very well, a lifelong friend that seemed interested in her as well. The problem? That man was no other than Viscount Anthony Bridgerton, the most infamous rake of the Ton.

“Your carriage is ready, miss (Y/L/N)” the butler informed the young lady.

At almost the same time, another voice echoed around the house.

“(Y/N) dear, we must go now. Lady Danbury will not let me hear the end of it if we show up late yet again. I’d also like to chat a bit with Violet, I haven’t seen her since the Featherington ball.” her mother urged her from the hall.

“I’m ready, mother” she answered loud enough for the woman to hear.

On her way to the barouch that would transport them, she realized that the burgundy dahlias that had been planted at the beginning of the summer were finally blooming with the arrival of autumn, contributing to the embellishment of the front garden. She stared at them for a second; her mind was searching for something in them but she couldn’t explain what exactly. She shook her head and she got inside the carriage.

Pacing around the ethereal gardens of Aubrey Hall, her mind couldn’t help the quick escapades to the first time they kissed. Sitting under the blossoming tree, Anthony and her were watching the sunset taking with itself the traces of winter, welcoming the first of many spring nights. The two of them were abnormally quiet, as if the sight of the moon had bewitched them both. (Y/N)'s spine could still feel violent shivers traveling down her spine when recalling the way the Viscount had lightly brushed his nose against hers before capturing her lips into a slow deep kiss. His chapped and demanding mouth stole a couple more pecks before laughing airly, rising from their hidden spot and offering his hand to help her on her feet.

That glorious evening marked the beginning of … Well, she couldn’t quite state what it was. The rest of the summer was filled with fleeting glances, embraces away from prying eyes and laughing, lots of laughing. (Y/N) had never been happier; after all, the Viscount was by her side every other night. Still, a series of dark thoughts anxiously floated around her head whenever he walked away to attend the gentlemen’s club, or whenever he tried to avoid her gaze after implying anything that had to do with love or compromise outside his mattress. Shaking her head and changing the subject usually did the trick, but for the last few days, Anthony had been acting ever so strange.

(Y/N) was absent in deep thoughts when she felt a familiar touch on her back.

“Anthony” It was not a question, but the most confident of statements.

“How did you know it was me so surely?” he said while flashing her with one of his infamous smiles.

She raised her head so her eyes stared at him directly. “I could recognize you by smell, by the prints you leave when you step on the ground on a rainy day or simply by tracing your features with only one finger, eyes completely closed. You are no mystery to me” her answer was sweet and sincere, with a touch of flirting attitude.

He went quiet, very quiet. Every bit of the playful attitude he had shown earlier had disappeared, now replaced by a hard expression. “You ignore plenty of things about me, so stop acting like my-”

“What has come over you? Your usually particular temperament has worsened these past two weeks. I do not appreciate that you talk to me in such a way” she abruptly interrupted in hopes of obtaining any kind of answer that would help her understand.

“I cannot bear with this any longer. I just feel like we have gone astray from the path we had established for us. I wish for us to be on the same page, and that implies remembering the casual nature of our… deal. Please tell me you understand” his pleading eyes accompanied the request perfectly.

“Forgive me, Anthony but I can’t wrap my head around what you are saying. I thought we were evolving, like our relationship. I know you are not the most kin on marrying or doing this as everyone else does, but after all we’ve been through, don’t you dare tell me that I have been delusionally imagining all these romantic gestures and moments”

“Mademoiselle Parisot is upstairs waiting for me. I would love to continue to discuss this in another time, unless there’s anything that must be told in this exact moment” Was his voice meant to sound confident? (Y/N) could almost feel some sorrow slipping through the cracks of his quick confession.

The astounded expression on (Y/N)’s face showed that she did in fact not comprehend any of what Anthony was rambling about. A quick sight that denoted shock and upset preceded the lady’s monologue.

“I love you, Anthony, and it’s ruining my life. I can’t keep sighing like a damsel trapped in the highest tower, as I yearn for a future that my eyes will not behold. I can’t keep masquerading my true desires, in hopes that you will choose to stay. I will not continue to morph into whatever kind of woman you fantasize about at the moment, making all those efforts for a man who could never spare a glance at me in such a way, and losing myself in the process. I always thought my worst misery would originate in a forced, loveless marriage with some old earl at best , that would little by little drain every spark of joy within me. But oh, what fool I have been. This senseless affair we have going on has come to distress me more than the worst of husbands ever could. So, go on, run straight into her arms. I do not care, not one bit, my lord. You have shattered my heart a million times throughout the years, I cannot feel it tearing apart anymore.”

His stupidly handsome face showed an evident feeling of distraughtness ; she had never raised her voice like that, nor had she ever used similar words around (or against) him. He quickly shook his head to wash away the initial shock, substituting it with his typical stoic mask.

“I have never intended to inflict any kind of pain upon yourself, my lady. But, as my dearest friend, you should have known what you were getting yourself into, (y/n).”

His casual condescending tone made her sick to the stomach and the loudest of silences entered the scene. After a minute or two, a gentle breeze interrupted (y/n)’s pondering. She then raised her head up in a defying manner. After making sure her voice wouldn't give up on her (even though her lower lip was trembling), she decided to voice her thoughts.

“That's the thing that bothers me so much about infatuation. It makes humans stupid, it makes them believe it can fix anything, even lost causes such as yourself, Viscount Bridgerton. I do not desire to disturb my lord any longer, so excuse me.” And just like that, she was heading back inside the ballroom.

The sound of her heels furiously hitting the floor with every step matched perfectly with the accelerated heartbeat of the man left stranded in the gardens. Without much thought he decided to return to the chambers where his seemingly perfect mistress awaited for him.

Not very far from the action, a slightly inebriated Benedict was laughing obnoxiously loud with Eloise and Colin. The sight of (Y/N) crossing the doors so rapidly while trying to contain her sobs and tears made the three Bridgerton siblings turn their heads to follow their friend’s trajectory.

“Should we-” Benedict was eager to console (Y/N) despite his clouded reasoning.

“I would say that she needs a moment to collect herself, Benedict. Our presence could do more harm to her already poor state.” Colin spoke.

“I will try to approach her later. I wonder what has happened… Wasn’t she talking with Anthony?” Eloise recalled perfectly how Anthony had started to converse with Miss (Y/N) earlier that night, right in front of the thriving gardenias. Everything seemed perfectly normal when she was passing by, but it was obvious that something had happened after she had gone back inside.

Eloise moved rapidly to peek around the corner, followed by the two males whose curiosity was unbearable as well. On the other side of the garden, an obviously tense Anthony was making his way to his chamber with a light emanating from the inside of the room.

Without a second thought, Benedict voiced what the three of them were thinking in that moment.

“I think that is exactly the problem, my dear sister…”

#oweninadaydream #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x fem reader #anthony bridgerton imagine #bridgerton imagine #fem reader

1K notes · View notes

javelinbk · 4 months ago

Text

John Lennon, Ringo Starr, George Harrison, Pattie Boyd and Jenny Boyd board the train from Euston to Bangor, while Cynthia Lennon is prevented from boarding and left on the platform with Peter Brown and Neil Aspinall , 25th August 1967. Part 2 - gifs.

Part 1 - photos and newspaper reports

Part 3 - Cyn talks about missing the train

“It was a bright, sunny morning when we set off. I was ready early, but Pattie, George, and Ringo were coming in our car, and were late.

“By the time Anthony drew up at the station entrance we were cutting it fine and had five minutes to catch the train. John leapt out of the car with the others and ran for the platform – leaving me to follow with our bags.

“It was the result of years in which he’d taken it for granted that others would see to all the details. I followed him as fast as I could. The station was mayhem, with fans, reporters, police and passengers all milling around. I struggled to push my way through, but when I got to the platform my way was barred by a huge policeman who, unaware that I was with the Beatles party, said, ‘Sorry, love, too late, the train’s going,’ and pushed me aside.

“I shouted for someone to help. John poked his head out of the train window, saw what was happening and yelled, ‘Tell him you’re with us! Tell him to let you on.’

“It was too late. The train was already pulling away from the platform and I was left standing with our bags, tears pouring down my cheeks. It was horribly embarrassing. Reporters were crowding around me, flashbulbs were popping and I felt a complete fool. Peter Brown, Brian’s assistant, had come to see us off: he put his arm around me and said he’d take me to Bangor by car. ‘We’ll probably get there before the train,’ he assured me, anxious to cheer me up.

“But what neither he nor anyone else knew was that my tears were not simply about the missed train. I was crying because the incident seemed symbolic of what was happening to my marriage. John was on the train, speeding into the future, and I was left behind. As I stood there, watching the train disappear into the distance, I felt certain that the loneliness I was experiencing on that platform would become permanent one day.”

Cynthia Lennon, John

#poor cyn #the fact that john was one of the first on and she didn't make it #can’t help but compare this to the first flight to new york #walking side by side and john making sure she was ok #I love the way peter brown looks down at her like 'oh shit one of them is still here'#she did not have a lovely time the day they went to bangor #oh please believe me I'd hate to miss the train #cynthia lennon #john lennon #john and cyn #george harrison #pattie boyd #jenny boyd #ringo starr #peter brown #neil aspinall #javelin's gifs #javelin's gifs: 1967

201 notes · View notes

scariusaquarius · 6 months ago

Text

rehab. 3.

Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Winter Soldier! Fem! Reader

Summary: While on a mission to find any more possible super soldiers that were a part of the Winter Soldier program, Steve and Bucky make a discovery in an abandoned HYDRA base that was cleared out a few years prior to their mission. They discover the Reader, a long-forgotten soldier that was still asleep within a functioning cryostasis pod; still awaiting orders. While Bucky isn't happy about it, he is put up to the challenge of helping to rehabilitate the soldier in Wakanda where she may be able to become a person again.

A/n: I had someone on Ao3 ask me about how often this will get updated and my answer is that I don't know. My IRL can be pretty unpredictable and I do deal with depression on a daily basis. I'm going to do my best to update this while still working on my Leon Kennedy fic, Unlikely Salvation! Please do bear with me as I try to figure out where I want this story to go!

This is an au where Bucky joined the avengers but still rehabilitated in Wakanda (sometime before Infinity War [canon divergent cause NOPE]). I am NOT fluent in Russian, so I did use google translate cause I couldn't find a good translator that I trusted. If anything is wrong, PLEASE let me know!! Also, I tried to list as many warnings as possible so you know what the story will contain as chapters are posted. Stay safe!

Genre: Slowburn, Enemies to Lovers/Friends to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Humor, Drama, Dark Content Rated: Explicit Warning: Angst, Dark Content: Graphic Depictions of Sexual Assault, Blood and Gore, Mentions of Manipulation, Kidnapping, Canon-Typical Violence, Body Horror, Nonconsensual Body Modification/Scarring, Emotional and Physical Abuse, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts/Ideation, Graphic Depictions of Human Remains, Mentions of Sexual Coercion/Manipulation, Death, Misuse of Drugs/Forced Drugging, Self-Harm (Graphic Depictions and Mentions), Nightmares

Author: ScariusAquarius

rehab masterlist. chapter 1 / chapter 2

The lab was hustling with scientists, the Wakandan sunrise filtering through the enormous windows with an intensity that made Bucky eyes hurt as he stood by the cryostasis pod where the Winter Soldier would soon be housed.

The whole trek to the lab had been uneventful: not once did the soldier fight back. It seemed that the failure to complete her mysterious mission had caused her to shut down, and Bucky was tense as she was strapped down with multiple magnetic cuffs like the ones he and Steve used back in the quinjet.

Even with the super soldier serum coursing through her veins and whatever other enhancements she might naturally have or that HYDRA might have given her would prove useless. She was strapped down nice and tight.

There was a machine hovering over her knee, the tissue and bone beneath crunching and grinding as it was fusing back together, her expression unchanging despite her kneecap and patella being exposed. The air was beginning to smell of singed flesh and hair, and Bucky felt slightly nauseous.

Bucky hated knowing how much damage his arm could inflict; how unforgiving his grip was and how hard it was to regulate the strength at times so he would break yet another glass just by holding it and trying to take a drink.

And it had been so easy to crush her flesh like it was nothing.

"Howard? Howard, oh god...oh god, Anthony...!"

Bucky clenched his jaw, swallowing harshly as Maria Stark's voice whispered to him, and he was broken out of his trance by Shuri announcing.

"Once we are finished with her knee, I would like to begin deconstructing her mind. If efforts are fruitless, I would like for you to activate her again if possible. We might be able to figure out what her previous orders were and her intentions, history, anything that would prove useful to the eradication of HYDRA."

Steve frowned, asking as T'Challa simply stayed quiet, observing the Winter Soldier as she sat complacent and quiet; seemingly not hearing a word that they were saying.

"Are you sure that's a good idea? What if it doesn't work?"

Shuri replied confidently, flicking her eyes over to Steve before gesturing towards Bucky with a nod of her head.

"We will have to reset completely and start over. Sergeant Barnes' rehabilitation was easy due to the flaws within his programming that HYDRA was unable to remedy. However, we do not know what improvements have been made to HYDRA's algorithm since then. It will be challenging to separate the core person that this woman was before her programming, but not impossible."

T'Challa then asked, raising an eyebrow at Shuri as she shined a light into the Winter Soldier's eyes, taking down notes and recording her vitals.

"What if you are unable to separate the identity from the programming?"

Shuri sighed deeply, shrugging.

"She will have to be built from the ground up. This woman will be like a completely clean slate down to a new name if we are unable to figure out who she was before. I am already running the best biometric identification programs within our arsenal to figure out who she could have been. I would assume that Stark is also doing so?"

Steve nodded, replying as he watched the soldier closely as her eyes inconspicuously flicked to a scientist that readying a syringe.

"Yes, he's also got Nat looking through the database that we downloaded and coursing through any previous databanks we obtained from previous HYDRA raids."

Shuri then turned to Bucky, making him quirk an eyebrow up slightly as she regarded him with a raised brow.

"What is your take on this, Sergeant Barnes?"

All eyes were on him, and Bucky sighed slightly he stared down the soldier, watching the way her brow began to tense slightly the closer the scientist got. The second the syringe touched her skin, the soldier began to freak out.

Due to the cuffs restricting her movement, she resorted to smacking her back against the chair over and over, hissing and yelling loudly as the scientist jolted and stumbled back. T'Challa immediately shoved her down, Shuri exclaiming profanities as she snatched the syringe from the scientist and shoved it into the soldier's neck.

The soldier hissed and yanked her neck away, breaking the needle, and Shuri groaned, gesturing with her hands wildly.

"Really? Now I'm going to have to dig that out. You make things harder for yourself!"

Okoye quipped, her spear pointing towards the soldier as Steve and Bucky stood tensed and ready should the Soldier somehow get out of her binds.

"How primitive! She is like a wild animal!"

The sedative began to kick in, the woman's bucking gradually stopping, and she went limp within the chair, head rolling to the side as her eyes rolled into the back of her skull. Bucky's heart was racing slightly with adrenaline, and Steve observed.

"Seems like she knew what the syringe meant."

T'Challa frowned deeply, leaning back and brushing his hands off slightly as he glanced back at Steve.

"An important but grave detail: she must be remembering...or perhaps, it is a recent memory."

Shuri plucked the broken needle from the soldier's neck, humming.

"I will take it as a good sign that there is at least someone beneath the rubble. I promise you, Mr. Rogers, that I will do my best to find her."

Steve nodded before clapping Bucky on the shoulder.

"You going to be alright?"

Bucky glanced over at Steve, muttering truthfully.

"I don't want to do this, but I'm only doing it for you. I'm worried that she is going to somehow lead HYDRA to me and it's gonna be a shit-show all over again."

Steve was firm, declaring quietly.

"You know I wouldn't let that happen. I'd have to miss that big head of yours again."

"You're a goddamn punk, you know that?"

Bucky couldn't keep the smile from gracing the corners of his lips, and Steve smiled at him softly before hugging him firmly and backing away.

"Alright, I'm going to leave you to it. I'll check in periodically; let you all know what we find on our side of the world."

T'Challa hummed, walking towards Steve.

"I will accompany you. I would like to discuss some things before your departure."

Steve nodded, and the two men walked out of Shuri's lab. Bucky turned back around, making a slight face as Shuri cut away pieces of the woman's clothing, revealing a black and tight-fitting compression camisole.

There were numerous scars and marks all over her body, some jagged and unforgiving while others were clean and precise. Shuri hummed softly, muttering as her fingers grazed a jagged scar that ran beneath the woman's neck.

"The things this woman must have been through...HYDRA is truly despicable."

Bucky couldn't speak. Hell, he couldn't even think outside of the boiling hatred and rage that was beginning to consume him at the sight of the gruesome scars that covered her upper body. Bucky could only assume that it got worse beneath her uncut clothing, and he had to bite his tongue as hard as he could.

Whip scars, burn marks, mutilated flesh that never regenerated, her body was a canvas; a horrendous painting that HYDRA had taken delight in decorating. This was more than just punishment, it was a warning.

A warning that disobedience will not be tolerated.

How many times did they slash her throat for the scar to become so prominent? How many times did they burn her skin to the point that the serum couldn't work to regenerate? How often did they beat and prod and jab and shoot and stab at her until she was too weak to fight back?

In a morbid way, Bucky took it as a sign that despite her being activated and still dangerous, her history of resistance let HYDRA know that the person that used to be there still existed.

There was someone still underneath the rubble, as Shuri had put it, and Bucky hoped that Shuri could pull her out.

But even so, would it help? Would it be right to let this woman have to live with the memories and nightmares of what had happened to her? Was it right to subject her mind to the torture of HYDRA even after being rescued?

Was it right to try despite knowing how traumatized and desolated the woman was going to be once she was free? Hell, there were times were Bucky could still smell the scent of the cologne his Handler wore when punishing Bucky, and now Bucky couldn't stand to smell the scent without being pushed into a panic.

"Don't worry, White Wolf. I am going to do what I can to help this woman."

"That's not what I'm worried about."

His voice was choked, cracking slightly as he rushed to respond, and Shuri tilted her head at him, asking Bucky with a curious gaze.

"Then what is it that plagues you?"

"I just...is it right to do this when she's gonna have to live with the memories and the nightmares?"

Bucky felt ashamed by the frown that crossed Shuri's face, but was slightly relieved to know that the disappointment that flashed within her eyes was not directed at him.

"I understand the concern, and I understand that it will not be easy for her...but that is why you are here. You have survived HYDRA and are free of the programming they worked hard to instill within your mind. With living proof that persistence yields peace, I truly think that she may become a person again...it will just take time and a lot of work."

Bucky nodded, and Shuri was quiet for a moment before she murmured.

"While it may not seem fair to save her...it is truly a tragedy to deny her the chance that HYDRA never gave her."

The words left a profoundly bitter taste within Bucky's mouth, and he could distinctly taste copper from him biting into his cheek too hard. Shaking his head, Bucky looked away from the woman as Shuri began to assess her further.

"Reactivating her will come with a risk. I would only be able to activate her, but I don't have the knowledge to deactivate, if that's even possible. When I was activated...the longer I was out of cryostasis and hadn't been wiped, the easier it was to resist the programming. I don't know if it will be the same for her."

"As I said: reactivation will allow us the ability to communicate with her. She has not been wiped, it would seem, so it is possible that this woman knows something."

Shuri grabbed a butterfly needle and a vial, putting on gloves and tying a tourniquet around the woman's arm so that she could find a vein. Once she found it, Shuri inserted the butterfly needle, taping it to the soldier's skin.

"I am now going to collect bloodwork to run DNA diagnostics and input the data into the biometric identification program to see if we may be able to identify her this way. I'm also going to do some testing to see what serum she might have been injected with to trace it back to the creator."

Bucky nodded and sat back, watching and listening intently as Shuri described what she was doing and what the programs did on a deeper, intellectual manner. While Bucky was listening and trying to absorb the information, he couldn't stop glancing over at the scars that lined the woman's body.

Horrific couldn't even describe it. It made him sick to his stomach. If Shuri noticed that Bucky was slightly distracted, she gracefully didn't comment on it. Instead, Shuri tried to distract him the best that she could while the machine she was operating was taking a scan of the woman's brain.

After a moment, Shuri hummed, a perplexed look on her face as she sauntered around the hologram of the woman's brain, tendrils of red seeming to pulse all over the organ, and Shuri's brows furrowed as she thought to herself. Bucky asked with an intrigued look on his face.

"What is that?"

"This is a digital recreation of the woman's brain as well as the areas most affected by HYDRA's programming."

Shuri looked proud as she began to move the hologram around, zooming in and out of different areas and lobes before breaking it down into layers.

"Thanks to the work that I did for you, I was able to develop an AI that was capable of identifying HYDRA's programming, as well as detect the intensity and depth that it runs. It gives possible solutions and suggestions on what to work on first...and tells me when something activates the program."

Shuri's voice seemed to lower slightly, side-eyeing him for a moment before she looked back at the hologram, but Bucky didn't notice. Bucky was floored, in awe at the ingenuity of the AI that he couldn't help but to whistle lowly.

"That's incredible, Shuri."

"Please, compared to her, you were like a walk in the park."

Shuri waved him off before she hummed, pointing to a area that was largely red within the hologram.

"However, unlike your programming, her programming is much more complex. There are multiple layers where the programming intertwines with core pieces and memories, which will make unraveling the ties difficult. There might be parts of her that will not be salvageable."

Bucky pursed his lips slightly, shaking his head as he replied gently.

"Like you said: from the ground and up if needed."

Shuri smiled widely at Bucky, her eyes crinkling as she teased gently, pointing at him.

"See, now you are beginning to understand."

Bucky rolled his eyes before he asked as Shuri began to work, a screen popping up and flashing slightly.

"So, what is that?"

"If we are going to salvage as much as we can of the core person she was before she became a Winter Soldier, we will have to analyze every piece of her psyche. Unfortunately, I cannot do much with HYDRA's program basically firewalling me. It is like they added some sort of encryption to her so that any attempt of undoing their work would be unsuccessful or too risky."

Bucky tilted his head, becoming slightly confused as he pointed to the red parts of the woman's brain.

"Is that why those areas are red like that?"

"Yes. If you look closely, it is almost as though these red areas are wrapping around the parts that are otherwise untouched by HYDRA's program. If we can get past the encryptions, we might be able to get through."

Bucky nodded along, crossing his arms before he glanced down at the woman, asking apprehensively.

"Are you going to make me activate her?"

"For now, no. I do not think that it will be necessary. All I need to do is bypass the encryptions, break them down, and then I will begin to root out the memories with the most significance to her."

Shuri spared Bucky a glance, relaying to him honestly.

"If possible, I would like to keep you from doing so because of the mental repercussions activating her will have. I will entrust the process to Okoye if activation is the only option we have left."

Bucky shook his head, murmuring to Shuri as he glanced down at the woman again as her face scrunched slightly.

"No, I'll do it...let's just hope that I don't have to."

Shuri became quiet, staring Bucky down for a moment before she turned away and suggested.

"Perhaps you should see the Captain off. Breaking through the encryption will take time, and I can tell that you are starting to become brain-dead listening to me."

Bucky chuckled before bowing his head slightly, shaking his head.

"I'd rather not upset your brother by leaving you with her by yourself."

Shuri made a face at him, the expression reminding him of Steve pre-serum.

"Do you think I am not capable of defending myself? This is my territory, white boy."

Bucky raised his hands in surrender, wincing slightly.

"I'm sorry, your highness, but I've been on the receiving end of your brother's foot."

Shuri barked out a laugh, and Okoye made her presence known by snorting while a couple of the Dora Milaje stood by the entrance to Shuri's lab.

"At least he knows what he would be up against. Do not worry, Sergeant Barnes, I will stand watch. The Captain is about to make his departure."

Bucky nodded before expressing his gratitude, nodding gently to Shuri.

"Thank you. I'll be back shortly."

Bucky turned and left quickly, his steps quick and urgent as he arrived outside. However, the quinjet was already flying away, making Bucky purse his lips. T'Challa's voice greeted him, making the man look over at the King as he spoke.

"You just missed him."

"He's always running off on me somehow, so I'm not entirely surprised."

T'Challa chuckled slightly, before he glanced over at Bucky.

"How are you feeling about all of this?"

Bucky glanced over at T'Challa, regarding him with an exhausted look before he turned back front, watching Steve leave again.

"I'm worried, honestly. There's so many things that could go wrong. What if HYDRA is trying to find me and was using her to do it? HYDRA must know that the Avengers have been raiding the old facilities that aren't in use anymore, so why not leave her to be found and taken in?"

T'Challa hummed, clasping his hands together as he replied.

"Let them try. They will not make it very far."

Bucky pursed his lips slightly before he murmured.

"It's...strange, honestly...seeing this from an outside perspective. I knew that this was serious, but I wasn't aware of how bad it actually was. Standing on the other side of the glass...it's almost poignant."

T'Challa nodded, replying with a hum.

"When my father was killed and I was under the assumption that it was you in Vienna, a deep hatred rooted within me for HYDRA. While I understand now that it was Zemo's schemes...that hatred for HYDRA has never wavered. Even now when knowing the dangers that lie beyond those doors, I still hope for peace."

Bucky was quiet, listening intently to T'Challa's words as the king spoke, his brown eyes downcast as he continued.

"Nobody deserves to be subjected to such horrific torture."

Bucky wasn't sure on how to respond. Instead, the man just nodded and took a moment to breathe before he settled, glancing over at T'Challa.

"You're right, and if we have to start from scratch, then I'm willing to help how I can...both with rehabilitating her and eradicating HYDRA once and for all."

T'Challa nodded quietly before turning to walk back towards the lab, suggesting over his shoulder.

"You should get some rest...and maybe put that on ice."

At the mention of the wound on his temple, it began to pulse, and Bucky just sighed.

"I'll sleep it off...and thank you for listening."

T'Challa didn't respond, but a smile graced the king's lips as he disappeared through the doors. Bucky's shoulders sagged slightly, and he rubbed his temple gently, wincing when he pressed down to hard.

He had to admit: that woman could give a mean right-hook.

STORY NOTES: Bucky, T'Challa, Steve, and Shuri are all within her lab with the Winter Soldier. So far, the Winter Soldier has made no move. Shuri is using a machine that heals and reconstructs the soldier's knee, and Bucky is perturbed by the damage he had inflicted. He reflects on the hardship it took to regulate the strength of his grip in his metal arm; reminiscing about the difficulty of clutching a glass of water.

Shuri then tells the group that she would like to begin deconstructing the Winter Soldier's mind to get an understanding of her intentions, and suggests activating the Winter Soldier again should Shuri's efforts fail. Steve is apprehensive, and Shuri voices that if neither efforts are successful, then she will have to completely reboot the Winter Soldier.

Shuri elaborates that she is currently attempting to figure out the identity of the Winter Soldier, and makes a remark that she hopes Tony Stark is also doing the same. Steve comments that Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, is also combing through the databank Bucky had downloaded, as well as previously recovered databanks.

When a scientist attempts to inject a sedative into her, the Winter Soldier begins to resist; causing a scene and consequently breaking the needle of the sedative within her neck. Steve observed that the woman understood what the syringe meant, and T'Challa points out that it might be a sign that she is remembering.

Before Steve's departure, Bucky voices his fear that HYDRA is using her to get to him, and Steve reassures Bucky that he won't let HYDRA get their hands on him again. Steve exits with T'Challa, and Bucky and Shuri are left alone within the lab. Shuri begins to remove a bit of the woman's clothing, and more scars are revealed.

Bucky becomes upset by the sight of the scars, understanding what they meant, and Bucky begins to become apprehensive about saving the woman. Shuri reassures Bucky that what they are doing is right. Later, Shuri shows Bucky a digital rendition of the Winter Soldier's brain and explains what she is going to do in order to save the woman's core identity.

Shuri comments that Bucky should see Steve off, and though Bucky tries to get to Steve before he leaves, he is unsuccessful. Instead, he meets with T'Challa. They begin to converse with each other, Bucky revealing his concerns, and T'Challa reassures him that HYDRA would not make it far into Wakanda if they attempted to retrieve him. Bucky makes a final thought on the woman and reflects on her strength. End scene.

TAGLIST: @vicmc624 @tilldeathripsusapart

#bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes x reader #james bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #the winter soldier #winter soldier #marvel #marvel x reader #captain america

217 notes · View notes

muxshwriting · 11 months ago

Text

that lovin' feeling

Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader

summary: Anthony loves his wife, and he’s not afraid to show it || warnings: an insurmountable amount of fluff || word count: 604 || masterlist

REQUESTED: Omg I'm so glad you're writing for Anthony Bridgerton. Could I request a story where he just got married to reader and them just being in that honeymoon phase and him being all lovie like he was with Kate

He was living in a dream, the most perfect dream anyone has ever had. As he watched you walk down the aisle towards him, his life was completed. Every day he would wake up more in love, perfectly content. It is no secret that Viscount Anthony Bridgerton loves his new Viscountess and that she loves him most vehemently in return. The match was undeniable from the start, the two fitting like they had always belonged.

"Good morning, my love." His voice was the sweet melody you awoke to most mornings, entering your mind and sending warmth through your body. You felt a kiss press itself against your hair as your eyelids flutter open.

"Good morning, my husband." You softly reply.

His face was already covered in a soft smile as he simply looked at you in the morning light. Anthony leaned over to press a kiss into your lips, unable to hide the smile he held. "You’re so beautiful." He whispered, eyes filled with sincerity.

An uncontrollable warmth spread across your face. "Stop it-"

Anthony was hearing none of it. "Why? You are so beautiful and you deserve to be told it every single day. Do you want me to lie?"

"Anthony-"

"I love you."

You can't hide your smile. "And I love you."

His voice dropped back to a whisper. "Then believe me when I tell you how beautiful you are."

"You know, you're very handsome yourself." You gathered yourself to respond.

"Mhm?"

"Almost irresistibly so..."

Pulling yourself from his embrace, you climbed out of bed and reached for a robe. Anthony's hands trailed after you, reaching to try and pull you back into bed. His eyes were silently begging you, almost succeeding in persuading you to drop the day's tasks and spend your time with him in bed.

"Anthony," Your voice had a slight warning to it. "We have things to do."

Anthony grinned as you slowly sat back on the bed. "Some things can wait..."

"Darling~" Your voice lilted slightly as you reached over to pull him upright, knowing you both had unavoidable tasks to do today. "The quicker the accounts are done and I've gone to the modiste with your sisters, the quicker we can return to this bed."

"The quicker we can resume..."

Your smile grows as Anthony finally gets out from under the covers. "If the Viscount desires an heir, I am more than happy to indulge his wishes."

Anthony appeared behind you, wrapping his arms around you. "The Viscount can't wait to indulge in his Viscountess."

Anthony let a throaty groan escape as you pulled away from him once more. You spun to place a soft kiss against his lips, savouring how your husband looked in the morning light, hair ruffled and weary-eyed. Anthony cradled your face in his hands, deepening the kiss until you had run out of breath.

"We must go." You whispered against his lips.

"Yes we must." He softly whispered back. "But I shall be waiting for you as soon as my work is finished."

"Our modiste visit will be swift, I promise."

Anthony helped you dress, him lacing your dress and you buttoned his shirt, fiddling with his collar. Both of you didn't want to separate, taking your time to fuss over each other's appearances before heading down to breakfast and out to your respective tasks. Anthony caught you just before entering his office as you were leaving with Eloise and Francesca.

He placed a gentle kiss against your lips and tucked a stray hair behind you ear. "I love you so much."

"And I love you more than words can tell."

#anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #muxsh #muxshwriting

635 notes · View notes

infiniteimaginings · 1 year ago

Note

Omg your amazing at writing Anthony bridgerton angst. Pls write more😫😫😫💋

You caused this? (Anthony Bridgerton x GN!Reader)

Summary: You are complaining to your dearest friend Anthony about your lack of luck through the seasons but he is terribly silent. His silence brings answers that you never expected from him. Pronouns: You/Yours Warnings: Angst Word Count: 3.4k A/N: Thank youuu!! Here's more for you my love! (Also for the new thing below this, tagging, you guys can be asked to be tagged in any sort of fics lol!) Tagging: @etherynn

A stunning afternoon shone on the walking paths families decided to take for eloquent bonding times. Children were laughing, mothers were sending their daughters off to promenade with one another, and the men were keeping watchful eyes out. It was a perfect day for the courting season to bloom in its full beauty and potential.

It was lively around the grassy green parks where people conversated with each other, it was a lovely day.

Two of the people taking advantage of the wondrous day to promenade together were you and Anthony Bridgerton, the most inseparable friends in all of London. The two of you had been great friends ever since you were children, you had been there for him through the easy and the rough patches, and he had done the same for you. Neither of you questioned your roles in the other's life, you just fit together.

Anthony loved you dearly, you knew that. He treated you like his own sibling, sometimes you appreciated it, other times you had to give him a good wack for him to stop scaring the poor guests at parties you attended.

There was no need for that during this moment, no. There were only warm smiles, sweet treats, pleasant conversation, and why was that? It was because it was only the two of you, no one to interrupt, or drag you away.

Anthony walked with you along the path, holding his hand out when he reached the stony steps to the dock. You raised a brow and rolled your eyes, taking his hand with a playfully distasteful look on your face, causing him to chuckle ever so slightly.

You walked down the wooden planks of the dock, noticing how there were no boats out. “I wonder why there are no boats out when it’s such a beautiful day.” You hummed aloud, not really expecting any response to your comment.

Anthony looked around and shrugged, hands behind his back, “Would you care to go out on the water?”

“Oh, heavens no!” You answered a little loudly, a sheepish smile finding itself onto your face as you turned to face him. “I was simply expressing my passing curiosity.”

The Bridgerton shook his head and stood quietly, admiring how the waves rocked with one another. He thought of the water like a ball, each drop with its own partner to create a beautiful array of movement within the water, to create a somehow roaring image of tranquility.

You, on the other hand, adjusted your clothing and sat upon the wooden planks, smoothing out the fabric as you did so. You carefully took off your shoes and set them to the side.

“What are you doing?”

The sudden comment caused you to look up with fluttering eyes, “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Anthony walked a bit to you, looking down, “It looks as if you’re on the brink of putting your feet into the water.”

"A remarkable observation indeed," You responded sarcastically, a playful glint in your eyes. “I shall have to inform your mother that we have discovered you possess the brilliance of a prodigy.” You spoke, removing the last of any clothing surrounding your feet to enter the cold water. Once you made contact, you left out a soft sigh, your hands falling to the wood behind you, leaving you in a relaxed position.

Anthony sucked his teeth at your remark, but no one could mistake his mischievous grin for anything other than delight. “Let us not raise her expectations.” He mumbled to you with a shake of his head, kneeling to take off his own shoes, “She’s already enthusiastic enough about Daphne.”

You hummed, tilting your head over to him, squinting your eyes due to the bright sun. “Pray tell, how is the new Duchess of Hastings?”

The man rolled his neck a bit and sat next to you, dipping his feet into the water. His body blocked the sunlight so you had no need to squint as you gazed upon him, his eyes falling to yours.

He let out a huff with a toothy smile, “She’s gone away with Simon.” Anthony informed you, looking out to the water now. He adjusted the collars of his wrist as he took a deep breath, “She swore she’d write letters so…”

“You’re looking forward to them, do not deny it.” You told him, scrunching your nose as you bumped your shoulder with his.

He chuckled and nodded, “Indeed, I eagerly await her thought filled letters.” He told you before biting the inside of his cheek, his eyes still looking forward, but they were further than ever. “I never imagined I’d miss her presence so much,” He confessed, blinking rapidly, “her ceaseless ramblings about finding her soulmate are over now.” He whispered, clearing his throat, adjusting himself once more, “My little sister is now gone, and I won’t be able to protect her anymore.” His voice with loss, his fingers clasped together as if he was grasping for something.

You placed your head on his shoulder, “She’s still your sister Anthony, she will visit.” You reminded him, placing one of your hands on his thigh.

You felt the man take a sharp inhale of breath before letting it go slowly, “I know…” He nodded against you, placing his head over yours.

There was a moment of silence, the two of you kicking your feet in the water, enjoying the cool splashing against the warmth the sun brought.

You moved your head, looking to the families across the way, “Besides, there are plenty of others for you to protect, people still rely on you.” You reassured him with a supportive smile, remembering his other siblings, specifically his three younger sisters.

Anthony was not thinking the same as you though, he took his hand and placed it over yours, which hadn’t moved from his thigh. “Right, like you.” He smiled, rubbing his thumb along the edge of your hand.

You looked to your lap, laughing a bit, “I require little protection.” You muttered out, playing with a small string on your clothing.

Your friend furrowed his brows and scoffed, “There are dogs out there.”

“I mean, because no one approaches me anymore.” You spoke suddenly, looking at the water solemnly, lips in a frown.

Anthony's smile dropped, and he turned his head to you, “Pardon?”

You scratched your head with a breathy laugh, “No one wishes to marry me.” You said, tone in a light song, but you knew it wasn’t a light hearted moment. It was a harsh truth you never wanted to face, but you had no choice as the season continued on.

The Bridgerton shook his head though, turning himself to you, his leg propped onto the wood, only one foot in the water. “That is not true, many do.” He assured you, but you shook your head in response.

You turned your body to him, feet still in the water, “Then why has no one called for me in weeks?” You asked, shoulders dropping in defeat. “Why has no one proposed?” You asked another unanswerable question as you looked back to the water.

Anthony felt an uncomfortable feeling bubble up in his stomach as you spoke. His blood grew cold, his heart beat faster than ever, his throat felt dry as if all the saliva in his mouth suddenly disappeared. He was suddenly aware of everything around him, all the sounds, the feeling of the wood on his calf, the water rushing around his foot, how hot the sun was.

You didn’t notice his sudden silence, you didn’t notice his expression, you were lost in your own mind. “I just feel as if I’ll never find someone.” You muttered, looking out to the empty body of water, “It’s as if I’m being avoided, and everyone knows to do so.” You continued, feeling pricks from the wood in your fingers. “I wish I knew why I was being avoided, because I swear,” You sighed, “I would change what they don’t like about me.”

Anthony stayed silent but his eyes were filled with a deep sadness, his lips parted slightly, his hands clenching. He could feel his nails embedding themselves into his palms, leaving crescent shaped marks, his palms now red.

You looked back over to him, wiping your eyes that began to water, “I didn’t mean to ramble on…” You trailed off as you caught sight of his expression. “What is it?” You asked, concerned as he had never looked at you so…upset before.

He shook his head, snapping himself out of his thoughts, “Nothing.”

“Anthony, what is it?”

The tone of your voice was heartbreaking to him, you were really worried about him after telling him your concerns. He slowly turned his head to you, almost reluctantly, and looked into your eyes that shine with sunlight. He could see the reflection of the clouds in your eyes, and it made him feel worse than he already did. When he looked into your eyes, he knew he could not lie to you. So he took a shaky breath and whispered out the words, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” You answered immediately, confused by the sudden change in mood. You wished you had not spoken, perhaps if you kept quiet the two of you would be laughing and splashing each other.

There was silence.

“Anthony, for what?” You persisted, searching his expression for answers.

“I’m so sorry…” He continued to shake his head, gulping down his own breaths as if the world would run out of oxygen just for him. As if he was being tortured and couldn’t breath on his own. His grip on your hand was tighter than it had been, “I was just… I’m so sorry…”

His panic conveyed through his action, through his expression, through his words. You just couldn't understand why he was so anxious, why he was so scared.

Until you realized, he didn’t seem scared over whatever he did, he seemed scared for how you would respond. His eyes kept snapping to you before looking down, he continued to clasp onto your hand, he closed his eyes as if he was silently praying for a better outcome.

Your brows knitted together and your lips pursed, “Sorry?” You repeated his apology, trying to think of what he was so apologetic about.

Suddenly, all of the memories flashed through your mind, quick as ever. The balls, the sitting rooms, the lack of dresses you needed to buy… it was because Anthony had never left your side. You thought he was being supportive, letting you know who would be better than the other for your bright future, but no. He wasn’t helping weed out those who weren’t good for you, he was clearing the field completely, so there was nothing left. No weeds, nor even blossoming flowers that you would’ve loved to pick.

Until there was no one left.

You blinked rapidly as you thought about this, finally making eye contact, “You didn’t.” You breathed out quietly.

You were met with silence and Anthony's sorrowful gaze, already begging for forgiveness.

You tried to remove your hand from his grip, but he wouldn't let up. Once you finally pulled yourself away, you stood quickly, not caring for the water dripping to your clothing from your quick movements.

Your feet were wet, causing a dark spot to form onto the wooden dock. “Anthony, how could you?” You asked, exasperated, hands going to your face as you began to pace.

Anthony scrambled up himself, trying to grasp your hands, but you continuously pulled away, making him face your back. “I just wanted to protect you!”

His words caused you to seethe, protect you? How was he protecting you?

You turned to him, feet stomping once you were face to face with him, “You’re not protecting me!” You yelled, your volume caused him to fall back a bit, unused to your yells. “You’re labeling me as a…” You paused, taking a few small breaths, “bad contender.” You mumbled, clutching your chest, feeling your eyes begin to sting. You began to shake your head as you backed away, “At this rate I will not be married.”

“What is the fault in that?”

“What is-?” You laughed, honestly not believing that this situation was happening. Your hands were up to your head, clutching at your ears, pinching, praying that this wasn’t really happening.

Anthony Bridgerton, the man of the Bridgerton home, the man who almost forced Daphne to marry a man who wanted nothing good for her. Anthony Bridgerton who was to duel a man for his sisters honor. Anthony Bridgerton, the man who took the responsibilities of his father for his family, because he knew how important it was for women to be married in this world.

You stood straight, face contorted in anger, “You are well aware, as I am, that our society revolves around marriage.” You spoke slowly, “My family wishes for me to be married or I will be a disgrace.” You reminded him, tilting your head, mouth opened in another sense of disbelief. “How is it that you now fail to comprehend such a thing?”

Anthony nodded with your words, but it seemed as if he wasn’t hearing you at all, he was being so frustrating. “I merely believe that you should pursue your own desires.”

“You did not consult me on what I desire!” You yelled, drawing the attention of passersby. You looked down, frown on your face as Anthony waved them off with a smile. You looked back to him with a harsh, cold glare, “You acted according to your own desires, but for what purpose?”

He ran a hand through his hair before unbuttoning his vest and taking it off. Anthony felt like he was suffocating, and nothing was helping him breathe properly at the moment. “It’s because I hold deep regards for your well-being.”

You scoffed, “No one who truly cares about the other would do that.”

“I-”

You stopped him, holding up your finger, “No, you would never do this to Daphne.” You told him, causing him to fall silent. You could hear the harsh gulp he took as you continued. “You endeavored to secure a match for her, so why must you subject me to this treatment?…” You trailed off, turning away once again before turning right back to him, “You repelled every potential partner.”

Anthony didn’t make eye contact, he just mumbled out, “I have my reasons.”

“Please, list them.” You ordered, trying to meet his gaze, “For it appears that you do not wish the best for me.”

That sentence brought him out of his thoughts, that sentence made him realize how you didn’t realize the true intentions of his actions. “I care deeply for you!” He spoke a bit loudly, “It is inexplicable, I can not put into words my concern for your future.” He continued to speak, and you were quiet, waiting for any valid reason, because you wanted to forgive him, you did. “I truly believe that none among the ton is truly suitable for you.”

You blinked at him, “No one of the…” You just stared at him, “You…what?”

“Please understand.”

Oh, you understood just fine. You crossed your arms with a raised brow, “No one but you, I assume?”

His eyes widened and he shook his head quickly, “That is not what I mean.” He spoke, breaths quickening as his thoughts swirled through his mind.

“So you harbor no romantic sentiments towards me?”

“If that is what I implied, I apologize.”

You nodded, poking your cheek with your tongue, “Then why do all this?”

You were met with no response, so you continued, walking forward, poking his chest with your finger. “If you do not love me,” You began, “also being you do not wish to court me,” you clarified, tilting your head with a blank expression, “then your actions are malicious.”

Anthony shook his head, cupping your hand in his, “They are not, they are in good health.” He tried to convince you, but you wouldn’t budge.

You pulled your hand from his grasp, “Is the idea of courting me so revolting to you that you must scare off all contenders with your jealousy,” You backed away, hands up, “and leave me as a spinster for the entire court to laugh at?”

“It was not my intention.” Is that all he could say, it was not his intention?

“Then what was your intention?”

He sputtered and babbled out a response, but it was stutters of the beginning of sentences he would never finish. The only thing his pieces of words could convince you of, was that he had no idea why he would do such a thing.

“Was it your intention to prompt me to recognize deeper emotions for you?” You asked him, and he continued to knock his brain for some sort of response that he couldn’t give you. “Well?”

The Bridgerton man put his head down, hands over his face before they went to the back of his neck, “I thought,” He spoke, dropping his hands to his sides, “if we spent more time together as if we were courting-”

“But we are not.” You interrupted with an obvious stare, “You are not courting me, you do not wish to court me Anthony.”

He nodded and clapped, eyes wide with promise as he strode towards you in a sudden burst of excitement. “But perhaps, if we acted as such, we could discover the wisdom in such an action.” He spoke, nodding along with his own words, “It is smart, surely, you see it through my perspective!”

You chuckled because, what else were you supposed to do at the sudden idiocy that escapes a man's mouth? “Anthony, this is not business.”

“I understand that,” He told you confidently, “but, consider the mutual benefits it could offer us.”

You chuckled once more, taking a step back with a shocked smile, “I don’t care if marrying you would take the trouble from my family for thousands of generations, Anthony.” You explained, waving your hands in a large ‘no’ motion. “I would never marry you!” You told him harshly, the words engraved in the air as a promise.

Anthony's eyes dimmed, his breath pausing as his shoulders began to droop, “Why not?”

“For the same reason you will not court me.” You answered, rolling your eyes a bit.

He didn’t understand so he stared at you expectantly, “Which is?”

You couldn’t believe he wasn’t aware of why he wasn’t courting you, why your marriage would never work. Since he couldn’t understand such a simple answer, you stepped forward, staring him into his eyes. His brown eyes looked at you, searching for answers.

You shook your head lightly, “ Anthony, I feel nothing when I look at you.”

Time has stopped completely for Anthony Bridgerton. You spoke the words so easily. He felt everything move so slowly, to the point he didn’t even realize that he stopped breathing. He didn’t stop staring at you until you waved your hand in his face to capture his attention.

“Is that why you think I won’t court you?” He whispered to you, face falling.

You scoffed, again, at how he wasn’t understanding the conversation. “Wake up, Mr. Bridgerton!” You yelled, the first time you’ve ever used the title. “You just tried to propose a business deal with me, knowing that I have a better chance with any man over you.” You explained, hands falling to your sides as you paced across the doc, the man standing still, facing the same direction he was before you moved. “Yet, you still sabotaged any chance for me this season, and I will end up alone due to your selfish actions!” You spoke angrily, nostrils flaring once you finally looked at him again.

His eyes were the only thing that followed you, “I..I don’t…. I wasn’t thinking of-”

“You’re right!” You told him, clapping at his realization. “You were not thinking, which is exactly why you ruined everything for me!” You yelled, voice feeling strained due to the emotions you were currently feeling. “You ruin everything because you do not think.”

Anthony wiped his coming tears, opening his mouth for another apology.

You stopped him immediately, “I am utterly sick of every apology that leaves your mouth, because you do not mean it.” You spoke, not letting him speak any further.

You walked to the steps that separated the dock from the walking paths, “Goodbye Mr. Bridgerton.” were your final words before you left Anthony near the water.

He couldn’t say anything else, his gaze was trapped on the wooden flooring of the dock. What had he done? Why does he feel his heart squeezing every time he takes a deep breath in? Why was everything spinning?

More importantly, why did he do something so stupid, and push you away?

#Anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fic #angst #infinite imaginings

907 notes · View notes

cuteandhughesy · 4 months ago

Note

3. “we really shouldn’t” “so?” with anthony stolarz

he def seems like the type of guy who’d be ur brothers teammate and you’d sleep with him behind ur brothers back 😶

prompt no.3: “we really shouldn’t.” “so?”

your brother mitch has always been protective. you’re his younger sister, two years younger than him, and have always been super kind and naive. from a young age, he saw the way people took advantage of you and felt that it was his responsibility to keep you safe.

when you got a bit older and started dating, mitch’s protectiveness got worse. no boy was good enough, even when they were. he would drive boys away with menacing looks and what he called ‘stern talkings’…which are also known as threats.

eventually when you convinced your brother to chill the fuck out a little bit and let you work things out on your own, he was surprisingly compliant.

under one circumstance.

you can’t date his friends, and you certainly can’t date his teammates.

and you could live with that. most of mitch’s friends where your friends, and you didn’t see them in that way. and when mitch started getting more serious about hockey, he barley went out or had his teammates come over, so you never even met most of them. steph would ask all the time if you wanted to come to games, but you weren’t really interested at that point in your life.

“maybe you’ll find a guy,” she used to tease, winking at you discreetly in the dim light of the living room.

you always responded the same way, “im not into hockey players.”

when mitch made it to the nhl, you started going to games more often. you got to drink beers that mitch was paying for, and chat with steph about school and boys without the prying ears of your brother and your family. it was epic.

as the years passed, mitch never strayed from his dating rule or protectiveness over you.

you never planned on rebuking mitch’s dating rule until anthony stolarz waltzed into toronto with a summer tan and a perfect smile. he’s older than you—mature but doesn’t take himself too seriously. anthony introduced himself to you with a playful and intriguing gleam, and it instantly had you feeling things.

and your sister-in-law knows it too, because anytime mitch brings up anthony or if the net minder is in the same room as you, she’s wiggling her brows at you and grinning like the devil. you hate her.

and it’s fine, you think. it’s just a stupid crush on a new, older man. you’ll get over it. it’s not reciprocated.

expect it’s totally reciprocated, and after too many glasses of wine and access to a private bathroom at some bar after an important win, you and anthony hook up. and it doesn’t just end there. you have sex often…and kiss and go on dates even more frequently.

you find yourself in a secret relationship, and at the same time, betraying your older brother. slowly it becomes harder to keep a secret, and the people in your life start noticing something between you and the newest leaf goal tender.

it starts with steph who simply just knows you too well. she straight up just asks you, and you blurted it out like you physically couldn’t hold it in any longer. steph smirked and said, ‘I fucking knew it.’

next came auston matthews, one of mitch’s closest friends and teammates, walks in on you and anthony making out like teenagers in a guest bathroom. to be fair, you didn’t look the door. and it was also in auston’s house. you rushed out after the goal scorer once he slammed the door shut, lips glistening and eyes frantic, begging him not to say anything.

auston just laughed and said, ‘don’t worry kid, your secret is safe with me.’

your parents knew, and your closest friends knew (mostly leaf wags who you sworn to secrecy). your blossoming relationship with anything started to feel more real, and you certainly got more comfortable.

so yeah, you may of had four too many beers at the game. and yeah, when you see your boyfriend walking out of the leafs dressing room, looking divine after a win in his suit and damp hair, you just want to act normal and be able to go up to your boyfriend.

it wasn’t uncommon for you to wait in the tunnels with steph for mitch after games, especially when you’ve all driven to the rink together. anthony would always smile at you when he catches your eyes—a little too sexy for trying to be discrete—but you never pushed those boundaries besides some eye playful eye tag. not when mitch could walk out.

but once again, you’re well passed tipsy and you just want to love up on your man like all the other wags get to. before you can even think about it, you’re moving, searching out anthony—heels clicking on the floor as you make your way through the crowd.

anthony’s talking to morgan, completely unaware of the way your striding towards him—not until you’re right in front of him and morgan. you wrap your hand around anthony’s bicep, blinking up at him with glassy eyes.

“hi,” you beam, glossy lips tempting him in ways you’ll never understand.

anthony swallows, eyes squinting in amusement. he shoots a glance at morgan, who is just stifling laughter like he knows—god damn it tessa. “hi,” he parrots.

“missed you,” you whine, pushing up onto the toes of your heeled boots and pucker your lips, “can I have a kiss?”

anthony laughs, rubbing the back of his neck while his eyes subtly scanning the room—checking if anyone is watching. morgan has slipped away from you now, and there’s only a few lingering bodies left in the tunnel. he sees steph, eyeing you both sneakily. which means mitch is still here.

“we really shouldn’t.” he mumbles. despite his words, anthony lets his hand wrap around your waist, keeping you against his chest to steady the drunk sway you have going on. slowly, he licks along his bottom lip, “your brother could catch us.”

“so?” you huff, pushing even further up his body. “just a quick kiss.” you say. you’re too happy on wine and in love to think about your brothers stupid rule right now. you couldn’t care less about anything besides your gigantic sexy boyfriend—who is grinning down at you like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

and you are. more than the nhl. more than the stanley cup. more than breathing.

quickly, anthony leans down, free hand enclosing on the side of your face as he tilts your head up, connecting your lips together.

the kiss doesn’t last nearly as long as you need it to, and you whine pathetically when anthony pulls away from your lips. you’re not caught, thankfully, and that only makes you want to kiss him over and over again.

“i’ll see you later, kay?” anthony whispers softly, talking his hand off your hips.

you nod, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and dropping back down to your heels. “love you.”

“love you too.”

#🍾 ⊹˚₊ 1000 celly #❣️answered #anthony stolarz blurb #anthony stolarz imagine #anthony stolarz smut #nhl blurb #nhl smut #hockey blurb #hockey smut #🤍⊹˚₊ cute and hughesy fic

155 notes · View notes

tinytownn · 3 months ago

Text

road rage – iii

joel miller x f!reader

word count: 6k

summary: on a drive home after a late night shift, a tailgating truck hits you, sending you off the road. the driver—his looks catching you by surprise—offers you a ride home.

content: age gap, lotsss of flirting/kissing, joel fighting temptation still???, soft joelllll, cutesy little chapter just developing their relationship tbh, sarah introduced!! (she's like 16/17??), some teenage angst form her if u rly wanna squint??, no use of y/n

a/n: [UNEDITED] y'all I saw a post that was like "no one's life if crazier than the author of a fanfic" cause like haha funny crazy author notes,,,BUT I LITERALLY CURSED MYSELF?? i got a last minute modelling gig that had me STRESSED (they dyed my hair purple??), my cat almost died??!, and now i'm hoping that the world just gives me a break for the rest of the week. anyways i hope you guys enjoy the chapter!! i think it's my favourite and really shows all the guilt/emotion joel has been feeling and how vulnerable he can be with you. also i want to write a darker joel fic next so would u guys be interested???

pt. i pt. ii pt. iv pt. v

—

As he walked into the shop, Joel’s entire body buzzed with an overwhelming warmth–his lips, fingers, and legs tingling. He wasn’t sure if it was nervousness or lingering electricity from your kiss.

Nancy, the front desk receptionist, noticed the change in his demeanor, her head perking up the moment she spotted him.

“Someone looks happy.” She faintly smiled, motioning for him to approach the desk.

Joel blinked, caught off guard. He turned to the horizontal mirror that hung behind the front desk. He hadn’t even realized, but a smile pulled at the corners of his lips–a real one. His eyes crinkled at the sides and the wrinkles on his forehead were prominent–finally not from stress, but something happier. It was nothing like the faux smile he typically had simply for professionalism.

He scratched his bread, trying to wipe the grin from his face.

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” he muttered, leaning on the desk and clearing his throat. Trying to clear his mind—of you, the kiss, the way you leaned in the doorway as he left, the wanting look in your eyes.

Nancy tilted her head, amusement in her voice. “Oh yeah, like you walk in here smilin’ everyday.”

Joel glanced at her, expression flat. “Tommy texted me. Anthony wants to see me?” He skipped her comment entirely. “I got here as fast as I could.”

Nancy wasn’t buying it, but let it go with a shrug. “It’s not a problem, you know we don’t mind. Family comes first.” She flashed him a quick smile, leaning back into her plush office chair. “How is she anyway? Sarah doin’ alright?”

A pang of guilt thudded in Joel’s chest.

“She’s good,” he said, nodding once. “Just a headache. I left her at home to take a nap until I can get back.”

In the almost thirty years Joel had worked here, he had never lied before. Never needed to. Anthony was fair—more than fair. He’d given both Joel and Tommy steady work when they were young, paid them well, and treated them like family. As the company grew, Anthony put his full trust in the brothers, handing them the reins to his largest branch in Austin and speaking highly of them to everyone who mattered. Anthony had always been honest, always kind—and here he was lying.

“I wish we could’ve let you stay the rest of the day with her, but…” Nancy hesitated, her gaze shifting toward the desk. “It’s actually corporate that wants to meet with you. We told them you were out, so they’re talking to Tommy right now. They’ll probably just get you—”

The door behind him opened, and through the reflection in the mirror, Joel saw three plain-looking men in stiff suits step into the room. Nancy’s sentence trailed off.

His heart dropped and any lingering warmth fled from his chest.

Joel followed them into his office. The three men had already claimed and set up chairs across from his desk. Joel warily took a seat in his own chair, his palms clammy and jaw tight. Being late was already a bad impression and he had expected Anthony or at least Tommy to join the discussion, his nerves were shot.

“So, Mr.Miller.” The man in the middle spoke. “We’ve recently had some complaints from a very elite member of ours.”

Joel resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He’d crossed paths with these suit-and-tie types a handful of times—mostly during his promotion to branch manager alongside his brother. Those meetings were always short, impersonal exchanges that left him with a bitter taste for the corporate crowd. To him, they were nothing more than soulless money-grabbers, tossing around flashy titles for clients like party favors. And judging by the fact they were here, talking to him, Joel already knew exactly which client they were here to discuss.

The room hung heavy with silence as he waited for them to speak. Jaw tight, brow furrowed, eyes shadowed with barely restrained irritation—Joel knew better than to open his mouth. Nothing good would come out if he did.

The man to the right continued. “He has claimed that you verbally harassed him. And since this incident was not over the phone it is going to take us some time to investigate.”

Joel clenched his jaw.

Another suited man, seated on the right, added flatly, “Due to the seriousness of the allegation and the client's stature, we’re placing you on temporary suspension while this is sorted.”

“Bullshit!” Joel slammed his hand on the desk. “As much as I wanted to, I didn’t verbally harass that man for shit! He just didn’t like hearin’ that his ideas were just so impossibly stupid!”

The men didn’t flinch, but Joel could see their eyes narrow slightly.

“Well,” the one on the left began, tone patronizing. “This is an anonymous report, Mr.Miller. I unfortunately cannot disclose any-”

Joel scoffed through gritted teeth. “I ain’t askin’ you to disclose shit. I know who called you and I’m sayin’ I didn’t do it! You got any proof otherwise?”

“Mr. Miller, I advise you to lower your voice.” The man in the middle spoke, voice stern and warning.

He sighed, the weight of it sitting heavy in his chest. Joel knew his outburst had been unprofessional—but that was just how he operated. After decades in the industry, he’d earned his place, yet somehow, people still questioned his judgment. What frustrated him most wasn’t the criticism—it was that the only thing these men seemed to care about was the money they might lose if a wealthy client didn’t like his tone.

And yet, Joel knew that how he handled himself now didn’t just reflect on him. It reflected on Anthony. On Tommy. On everything they’d built together.

With a reluctant nod, he leaned back in his chair, eyes dropping to the scuffed toes of his boots as he searched for the right words.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

He cringed at the submission.

“This project’s been stressful,” Joel continued, hands knotted together on the desk. “And the client hasn’t exactly been very…cooperative.”

Although the group in front of him nodded, he could tell they weren’t truly listening.

The men rose from their seated position–a clear signal the conversation was over.

“We’ll return on Wednesday with the results of the investigation. In the meantime, I trust Tommy can handle things?”

Glancing towards the curtain covered window, he could see his brother nervously pacing around a standing figure–likely Anthony. He had no doubt Tommy could run the shop for the few days he would be suspended, but he could feel his worry through the walls.

“Yes, sir.” Joel finally nodded. “I trust my brother more than anyone.”

The men nodded once and turned without offering a handshake. “Very well. See you Wednesday.”

The door clicked shut behind then and Joel finally let out a breath. He sunk deeper into his chair, creaking as he swung back and forth, worry heavy on his mind. Although the news wasn’t great, he still had a job–a better outcome than he predicted when he first sat down.

Still, his stomach churned.

The client had been unbearable. The man had such big dreams for the hotel he was trying to open, but his free flowing mind was too much for the permanence of construction. One week it was a rooftop garden, then the next it was a pool. “Just tear it down,” he’d say like it was nothing. To him, the time and labor were just an afterthought–if one at all.

Joel really had tried.

A soft knock pulled Joel from his thoughts.

“Yeah?” He called out, sitting up straight.

The door creaked open and Tommy stepped in, closing it gently behind him.

“How’d it go?” He hesitantly asked, taking a seat in the chair across him.

Looking into his eyes, Joel knew better–Tommy had already heard the news. The expectant look in his eyes and wary hesitance as he entered the room told it all.

Joel scoffed, shaking his head as he looked at his brother. “These idiots don’t know what they’re talkin’ about. Suspended me ‘til Wednesday. Bet they’ll still give me hell after.”

Tommy sighed and he opened his mouth, lips slightly parted for a moment as if he was unsure of the words he was going to say. “Did you say anything to him, Joel?”

Normally Joel would be offended by his brother’s lack of trust in him, but this time he couldn’t blame him. Joel had a history of his harsh words causing discourse in the workplace, something that would not be in his favor during the investigation.

“No,” he said firmly. “Didn’t say anything that’d risk the company. Or Anthony.”

He scrubbed a hand over his face, weariness catching up to him all at once.

“Feels like I did anyway.”

Tommy leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his voice soft. “We’ll fix it. You’ve always had my back and I got yours, alright?”

Joel gave a tired smile, small but genuine.

–

Just as suddenly as Joel left your house, the realization of your spontaneous actions came creeping into your mind. His intoxicating smell of musk and sawdust had you in a trance that masked your uncertainty with confidence.

You didn’t regret it one bit. Not one bit.

A small smile tugged at your lips as you returned to the scene. Bowls were still scattered on the counter, you put them in the sink, rinsing them off with water before leaving it for another time.

You made your way to the island, picking up your phone. The screen lit up with a flood of missed texts and calls.

Your stomach dropped.

“Fuck,” you muttered, dropping into a chair as panic swirled your thoughts. “I forgot to call out today.”

The various missed messages and texts made your pulse quicken, breaths unsteady as you clicked to call back–unsure of what you’d even say.

Your fingers shakily grasped the phone as you nervously bit your lip to the humming in the speakers. It only took three rings for your boss to pick up.

“Hello?” Her voice was stern. “Where are you? We’ve been trying to contact you all morning. Are you still coming in?”

You swallowed hard, pressing the phone tighter to your ear. “I’m so sorry. I got into a car accident last night… and I guess it hit me harder than I thought. I just woke up—my head’s pounding.”

The lie slipped out almost too easily. It wasn’t completely false—you had been in an accident. And if she needed proof, you still had the photos.

You could hear your boss gasp over the receiver and her tone returned to normal. “Oh my God, are you alright? Did you go to the hospital? You can’t be doing your usual work with a possible concussion!”

Her voice made it seem like she was concerned, but you knew she was more worried about the company’s liability. You didn’t care. You were going to run with it.

“No, not yet. I’m waiting on a ride. Might go in later today.”

“Mmm,” she hummed, thinking. “Honestly, I think it’s best you stay out the rest of the week. Let’s check back in Monday, okay? And if you need help getting anywhere, I can see if someone from the office can drive you.”

The thought of carpooling with one of your coworkers made you shudder. You had been at your company a while, but hadn’t really made the effort to make friends within the building. Most of your coworkers were awkward middle aged men that hid behind their computer screens in their obscenely tight khakis.

You shook your head instinctively, even though she couldn’t see you. “No thanks, Rebecca. I’ll figure something out, but I’ll let you know by Monday.”

“Alright,” she replied. “Feel better—and take care of yourself, please.”

The call was brief, but your boss’s concern and kindness got you to release the breath you didn't know you were holding.

–

Joel left the office with a sour taste in his mouth.

He’d barely exchanged words with Anthony while collecting a few personal items from his office. To no avail, the man tried to diffuse Joel’s temper. He was slamming drawers shut and thudding stacks of papers onto his desk–a clear enough sign of how he felt about the decision.

“I don’t like it either, Joel,” Anthony said, offering a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “Just think of this like a long weekend. We’ll have you back in no time.”

Joel shot him a hard look, jaw clenched. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Without another word, he left the office. Heavy footsteps splashed mud on his boots as he made his way into the parking lot. He yanked open the door and as he climbed in, the faint scent of you hit him like a warm breeze. It lingered in the cab—soft and familiar. His muscles, tight from the storm in his chest, loosened just slightly.

He shut his eyes, leaning his head back against the headrest. For a moment, he let himself pretend you were still there beside him, wrapped in his jacket, smiling at him like you had that morning.

The anger began to fade, replaced with a dull ache, frustration lingering in the back of his mind.

Against his better judgment, Joel pulled out his phone. His thumb hovered over the screen, pulse quickening. No new messages.

“Course not,” he muttered under his breath, shoving the phone back into his lap with a sigh.

With Sarah at school for another three hours and no job to go back to, Joel was at a loss of what to do. Free time used to mean movie nights, board games, and pizza on the couch. Always with Sarah. Now, he didn’t know what to do with himself.

He sat in his truck, thumbs tapping a quiet melody against the wheel while the engine hummed in anticipation. Every idea he had—nap, errands, flipping channels on the TV—felt wrong unless you were there too. He smiled faintly at the thought.

Finally, unable to help himself, Joel picked up his phone and opened his messages to you.

In all honesty, this was new territory for Joel. Any lasting relationship he had formed was long before the age of texting and the practice just seemed foreign. Sarah had tried to explain the various, complicated rules: don’t double text, don’t text back too fast, don’t sound too eager. Joel had shaken his head through most of it.

“Why can’t people just say what they mean?” he’d grumbled at the time.

He needed to make a good impression though.

So his fingers danced over the keyboard, unsure what to type. He wrote and rewrote, then deleted, then rewrote, then deleted again until he was satisfied with his message.

Just wanted to see how you were doing. You need a ride to work tomorrow?

It was simple and non suggestive. It didn’t put any pressure on you while still upholding his end of the deal–it was perfect. He pressed send and immediately felt his stomach drop.

“Shit,” he muttered, putting the truck in gear and pulling out of the lot. He tried to shake it off, tried not to look at his phone, but barely a minute later, it buzzed.

Your name lit up his screen.

Feeling so much better thanks to you!

I called my boss and she gave me off until Monday. I guess you can retire from your chauffeuring job…

He re-read your first message. Joel thought back to you waking so well rested in his backseat, beaming up at him with that sleepy grin, his jacket draped over your shoulders. The thought made him blush.

But your second message stung a little. Monday. That meant he probably wouldn’t see you again anytime soon.

Anxiously biting his lip, Joel didn’t know what to respond. Everything that came to mind seemed desperate–but that's all he felt. Desperation filled his entire being and then spilled over the edges, pooling into the very truck where this very mess started.

I’m sure you have other places to be than work.

If you need a ride anywhere, just text me.

He shot off the two messages without thinking.

His heart pounded, stealing glances between the road and his phone, until the screen lit up again and his heart skipped a beat.

I do need help finding a new car…

If you’re free after work one day maybe we can go?

It was pathetic how much Joel yearned for you, his chest tightened each time you spoke, and the pitiful things that he tried so hard to keep himself from saying–and thinking.

He wished he could just call you up, tell you to dress pretty for him–not that it’d be very difficult–and he would pick you up in ten. He wished he could pick you up at your door, get to see whatever outfit you had put on thinking solely of him, and how his arm would wrap around your waist as he walked you to his truck.

Furiously typing at the screen, he formulated a response–not caring how desperate he sounded.

We can go now? I’m only ten minutes away.

You barely gave his heart time to recover, your message coming in seconds later.

Oh? Sounds great, I’ll see you then!

Joel sped his way downtown, making ten minutes into almost five as he rolled up your driveway for the third time today. He could hear his heart thumping in his chest and his throat grew tight at the thought of your presence.

Would you still be wearing his jacket?

What would you say to him?

And most importantly–Would you kiss him again?

On his way around the truck, he caught a glimpse of himself in the side mirror–and froze. His appearance had completely slipped his mind at the prospect of getting to see you again, and he instantly worried what you would think. He didn’t look much different than when you had kissed him before–white t-shirt clung to his body with sweat, hair tousled from all his nervous tugging, and dirt stained skin from work that morning–the sight made him tense.

Even just waking up, you were so put together with your clothes freshly ironed and hair neatly done–he didn’t stand a chance next to you in public. The thought of you side-by-side made him shiver with insecurity, he was already so much older than you and he was taking you around in his sweaty work clothes in his dirty work truck. It didn’t make sense.

He hesitated, swallowing down the nerves, and knocked on your door.

It opened with a soft click, and there you were—bright eyes, warm smile.

Joel’s heart leapt.

“What happened to work?” you asked, skipping the greeting entirely, eyebrows raised. “I thought Tommy called you?”

Joel snickered as he watched you lock your door, practically bouncing from excitement. “Well, hello to you too.”

“Seriously, Joel!” You laughed, nudging his shoulder.“They fire you for crashin’ the company truck or something?” He laughed, slipping an arm around your waist—lightly at first, testing your reaction. You leaned in immediately, and his grip tightened instinctively.

“I could blow this old thing up and they wouldn’t care. We’ve been expecting this thing to give out years ago–stubborn as hell.”

His hand slipped from your waist as you neared the truck, leaving goosebumps under his touch. He held open the door for you, carefully shutting it behind you as he rounded the truck–hoping you would drop the question amidst the silence.

The quiet only piqued your curiosity however, because as soon as Joel entered the truck you were quick to pick back up your questioning.

“So…you gonna tell me what happened?” Your head tilted to the side, expectantly awaiting his answer.

Joel huffed, the unpleasant reminder creeping back into his mind. “Let’s just say the higher ups aren’t too happy with me at the moment.” His hands gripped tighter around the wheel, a sigh escaping his lips. “Bullshit if you ask me.”

You put a comforting hand onto Joel’s leg, thumb tracing gentle circles on his thigh. He twitched under your touch.

“I agree. That is bullshit.” You stayed silent for a moment, biting the inside of your cheek raw. “One good side to it though.”

Brow furrowed, Joel turned to you. “Hmm?”

“Get to spend more time with you.”

His eyes softened, lips curving into a slow smile, the heat already rising to his cheeks. It never failed to surprise him—how easily your words got under his skin. Even when your voice trembled with the same nervousness he felt, your boldness always left him reeling.

Despite your many advances, Joel still worried about his place in your life. Worried that his touch may somehow taint the innocence that radiated off of you. But you kept coming back.

And right now, you were here.

Joel placed his hand on top of your own, lacing his fingers with yours like it was second nature. He gave your hand a slight squeeze, an unspoken response to your comment. You looked up at him the same as you had that morning–a soft warmth and tender curiosity.

Propping yourself up on the center console, you leaned in, your nose brushing his. Joel’s breath caught in his throat, and his hand instinctively rose to cradle the back of your head. His fingers threaded into your hair, curling ever so slightly as his grip tightened—not to restrain, but to pull you closer. His eyes fluttered shut, lips parting just in time to meet yours.

The kiss was light at first. Feather-soft.

Then your tongue traced teasingly along his bottom lip—and before he could even react—you tugged it between your teeth with a playful bite.

Joel groaned, low and surprised, the sound muffled against your lips. His hand tightened in your hair, and his other arm hooked around your waist, drawing you in. Your weight shifted, and before you knew it, you were half over the console—one hand clutching his thigh, the other gripping the back of his seat.

His arms held you steady: one anchoring your waist with a firm, possessive grip, the other still curled in your hair, guiding your movements like he was afraid to let go.

Then–a sharp, stuttering sound hit the windshield.

Joel froze, head tilting as he glanced towards the tapping. The gentle tapping turned into a steady thumping–rain. Heavy and relentless.

Your chest started to shake with laughter as you realized the position you were in. Tangled together, sprawled half over his lap and the gear shift.

“Well,” you said between laughs, easing back into your seat, “so much for car shopping.”

Joel rubbed a hand over his face, chuckling lowly. “Damn rain. Should’ve known my day couldn’t have gone that smoothly.”

The truck filled with silence–close and comforting–with only the soft pattering on the roof and the sounds of your breaths in sync. Your fingers reached for his again. He didn’t hesitate to link them.

Joel cleared his throat, trying to ease the nervousness in his mind.

“D’you…want to come ‘round to my place?” He pinched his shirt, taking a look down at it. “I need a shower, bad, but after that—I've got a few cold beers in the fridge. We could put on a movie or… just hang out.”

“That sounds great.”You bit your lip, your heart skipping at his sudden advances. “Unless you drink old man beer, then you can count me out.”

Joel laughed. “The hell is an ‘old man beer?’”

“You know–PBR, Miller Lites, or something.” You leaned back in your seat. “Anything that takes like two to three years of drinking to actually taste good.”

He squinted at you, mock offended. “What’s wrong with Miller Lites? They got a good name…”

“Okay, okay! You get a pass because of the name.” You giggled. “Plus, that’s the least nasty out of all of them.”

Joel shook his head, trying to fight a smile. “You’re too young to know what good beer is.”

The drive to his house was short but warm, filled with laughter and easy conversation. When he finally pulled into his quiet little cul-de-sac, you found yourself admiring the house—a small, white two-story with a cozy porch and a closed blue garage door. Trinkets and plants dotted the lawn–a glimpse at the love and life that inhabited the house.

Joel opened your door, holding out his hand for you to take–which you graciously did. He returned your touch with a slight squeeze.

The screen door opened with a creak, Joel’s keys clanging as he fumbled to unlock the door. The warmth of his home flooded out and pulled you inside as the front door clicked open. The air smelt like cookies.

“M’sorry for the mess.” He mumbled, slipping his boots off at the door. “Sarah made cookies last night– they’re on the counter if you want some.”

“Holy shit, Joel. These are so fucking good.” You stuffed the rest in your mouth and reached for another. “I see why you can’t cook. I’d never wanna make anything with food this delicious.”

Joel laughed as he wandered over, arms stretching lazily behind his head. His muscles flexed under the thin white shirt, and for a second, you lost your train of thought. When they dropped you could see the relaxation in his shoulders–his body much less tense in the comfort of his own environment.

“She’s my little genius,” he said, pride coating every word. “That girl’s good at anything she tries.”

He popped a cookie into his mouth and paused. “Damn,” he mumbled, still chewing. “She outdid herself.”

Then he stood up suddenly. “C’mere. Let me show you how the TV works before I hop in the shower.”

You snorted, taking a cookie with you as you plopped onto the couch. “You sure I don’t need to teach you how to use it?”

Joel sat down next to you, fumbling with the remote in his hands. “Shut up, I know what I’m doing.”

With a soft smile on you leaned your head onto his shoulder, letting his warmth seep into you. Cuddling closer to him, you popped the last of your cookies into your mouth, wiping the crumbs from your lips.

You watched as Joel scrolled through the guide. “Tell me if you see somethin’ you like.”

“That one.”

Pointing to a random channel, Joel clicked on your selection and some random crime show came on. A random woman’s body appeared on the screen, three detectives hovering over her–talking and taking notes.

Brows furrowed, he turned to you. “You watch this shit?”

“You told me to pick what I liked.” You turned to him with a sly smile and leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips—soft and quick, just enough to make him blink. “But the only thing that caught my eye is right here.”

Joel laughed and rolled his eyes. “You’re so damn corny.”

“And you like corny.” You shot back, shrugging playfully. “Unless that’s why you haven’t made a move.”

That caught him off guard. His smile faltered, tension creeping back into his shoulders.

Joel stiffened.

He hadn’t realized you felt that way–like you were putting in all the work. Now that he looked back at it though, you were right. He’d been cautious, hesitant... too afraid of overstepping. Too caught up in his own guilt.

“I’ll make it up to you, sweetheart.” He promised, voice low and gravelly with certainty.

Joel had been out of the game for years, but he wasn’t going to let that dull his instincts anymore. Not with you—beautiful, bright, and right here, in his arms. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest, sinking back into the couch until he was reclined and you rested on top of him.

You hummed, snuggling closer to his chest. “I’ll be waiting.”

Eyes fluttering shut, the steady rhythm of Joel’s heartbeat lulled you to sleep. A yawn found its way to your lips, fingers softly grasping his shirt as you tried to pull him closer. Contagiously, Joel began to yawn as well, resting his head against the throw pillow and shutting his eyes. His hands found their way to your head, fingers loosely weaving their way through your hair as he massaged your scalp, his touch slow and soothing.

You two lay on the couch, you head on Joel’s chest, the comfort of each other having brought you to sleep. Your hearts beat steady in time, chest’s rising and falling in sync while the quiet hum of the television echoes throughout the room.

It was a moment of unmistakable relief, the remaining ache in your bones from the crash felt healed as you clung on to Joel and his worries from work that weighed so heavily on his shoulders seemed to dissipate.

Sleep clung to you two so heavily that you didn’t notice the rumbling of gears as the garage door hauled itself open and closed or the tires of Sarah’s car creaking onto the concrete. It wasn’t until the side door opened and Sarah’s footsteps filled the room that Joel just barely woke up, his lashes fluttering open.

“Dad, are you home early?”

Joel’s lashes fluttered as his eyes cracked open. His arms were still around you, your cheek resting against his chest. A thin string of drool trailed from your parted lips to the front of his shirt. He smiled despite himself.

Sarah’s footsteps rounded the corner.

“Dad, I–” Her voice caught mid-sentence

Her voice startled you awake, your hands on either side of Joel as you rapidly propped yourself up. Your gaze snapped towards her.

Sarah stood frozen just inside the living room, a backpack slung over one shoulder, keys dangling from her hand. Her expression tightened—shock, confusion, maybe even hurt. Her blue eyes flicked from Joel to you, then back again. Her jaw tensed.

Joel cleared his throat and gently grabbed your waist, guiding you off of him.

“Hey, honey! How was school?” he said quickly, voice a little too bright.

Joel got up from the couch, going to greet Sarah with a hug. She stepped away from his touch.

“Hey…” she said warily, eyes still fixed on you.

Extending a hand out to her, you introduced yourself, giving Sarah an awkward, trying smile. She took your hand, gave it a half-hearted shake, then let it go just as fast.

“Nice to meet you.” She said shortly. “I’m gonna go upstairs. Lotta homework.”

“Okay,” Joel said, voice soft. But she was already heading up the stairs.

Neither of you moved as her footsteps creaked up the steps.

You sat on the couch, hands sat uncomfortably in your lap and Joel stood where he had gone to hug Sarah, still frozen in shock at her reaction.

His face was unreadable and his eyes stayed locked on the carpet beneath his feet, shuffling in place. He stood with his arms crossed and he was mostly turned away from you. The feeling that you weren’t meant to be here began to brew in your chest.

“I think I should go…” you said barely above a whisper. “I can just call a cab.”

His head snapped toward you. His lips parted like he wanted to say something, but nothing came out. He just… looked at you.

It was that silence that made your chest tighten.

His eyes dropped briefly, then flicked toward the stairs. His jaw worked as if chewing on his thoughts, trying to find the right thing to say—but instead, he just walked toward you and pulled you into a hug.

You gasped at first, but melted into him. His arms wrapped tightly around you, clinging like he was afraid to let go. You felt him tremble.

Then, quietly, a sniffle.

He wasn’t sobbing. Just a few quiet tears. But the weight of them hit you like a truck.

He exhaled shakily, his breath brushing your ear. “I didn’t mean for it to go like this,” he mumbled. “I meant to get you home before she came back.”

You rubbed his back, slow and steady.

“She’s never seen me with anyone,” he added, voice cracked and vulnerable. “Not since her mom.”

You stayed quiet, letting him get it out.

He clutched onto you, guilt holding his heart captive as he cried onto your shoulder. He had too much respect for his daughter to let you spend the night like he so desperately wanted, chest tightening at the thought he had to take you home. His breath stilled as he pulled away, your fingertips lingering on his arms–ready to pull him close again. He raked slow, observant eyes over you as if it was the last time he would see you, the tension in the air too thick to gauge your reaction.

“I’ll take you home,” he said gently.

The car ride was silent, but not cold. Just… heavy. You watched the lights blur past the windows, the quiet hum of the engine the only sound between you.

Sneaking glances your way, Joel couldn’t help but wonder how he got himself here. He didn’t mean to keep secrets from Sarah. He didn’t exactly have a plan to tell her, but he also didn’t really think about not telling her. You had been the only lingering thought in his mind for the past few days, he forgot he might have to introduce you to his daughter at some point. Things between you hadn’t gotten serious enough in his mind that he didn’t think he’d have to brave that point yet, but his carelessness proved otherwise.

Your crashed car, the problems at work, the guilt of whatever your relationship was, and now being caught by Sarah–Joel’s week had taken him over the edge. All he wanted was to lay in his bed, you curled on top of his chest filling his senses with your scent–dainty and floral. But now you sat next to him, stone still and the quietest he’s ever seen you.

He cringed at the tension.

He slowed as he went up your driveway, his brakes settling into the familiar incline. He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face as he fully turned to you.

“Sorry about tonight.”

You looked over at him, finally meeting his eyes.

“I swear, she’s not always like that,” he tried to joke. “I just… I’ve never brought another woman over. Ever.”

The confession made him wince.

Your lips lifted in a faint smile. “I get it. Honestly? I wouldn’t be thrilled either if I were her.”

That seemed to ease something in him. You rested a hand on his thigh and felt his muscles relax beneath your touch.

“You guys talk it out,” you said. “Let me know how it goes. I’ll be here.”

Joel’s throat worked as he swallowed, nodding slowly. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

He leaned in for a kiss—soft, meant to be quick—but the moment your lips met, his fingers slid into your hair and he deepened it. One kiss became two. Then three. Each one lingering a little longer.

You giggled as his lips grazed your skin, occasionally straying away from your lips to the tip of your nose or the corners of your mouth. It was a soft, silent gesture, the tightness from Joel’s muscles relaxing each time he heard your laugh.

Reluctantly he pulled away, knowing he couldn’t stall forever.

His hands cupped your cheeks, thumbs brushing your skin. “A promise is a promise. I’ll see you tomorrow—for car shopping, yeah?”

You nodded, lips still tingling from his kiss. “You’ve got a deal.”

—

a special thanks to my taglist ♡ @anoverwhelmingdin @auteurdelabre @tweakersqueaker @icanbringyouinhot @forpunishers @doeeyestoji @legoemma @woodxtock @jaxmom66 (message me to be added or removed)

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #tlou

128 notes · View notes

plussizefantasia · 1 year ago

Text

Don't Cry Over Spilled Lemonade

Anthony Bridgerton x f!reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: None that I can think of, this is kinda angsty tho

A/N: Surprise post IG I wrote this in my notes app because I couldn't sleep so if there are spelling or grammar issues I'm sorry. let me know if you want a part two because I wouldn't mind continuing this.

Anthony adored how close you were to his siblings. You had become a close family friend ever since you defended Daphne against some creep at her first-ever ball out in society, it was your second season and you had taken it upon yourself to keep an eye on the diamond, looking out for her quietly in the background.

You weren’t going to intervene at all, just offer her some advice woman to woman if the need arose but when you saw Baron Taylor grab the redhead by the wrist you couldn’t hold back.

Anthony himself was only seconds away from coming to his sister's aid when you ‘accidently’ tripped into the man spilling your glass of lemonade down the front of his vest.

“Perhaps my Lord if we kept our hands to ourselves certain… interventions might’ve not had to happen. Don’t you think?” When Anthony had seen your raised eyebrow and defensive posture all aimed at the scumbag who dared lay a hand on his baby sister he couldn’t help but fall a little bit in love right then and there. Not that he’d ever admit it to himself or anyone else for that matter.

A day later Daphne had invited you to tea at their family house in order to thank you for the rescue and potentially make a new friend and ally within the marriage mart.

Ever since that day, you’d been a regular in his home, but you were never there for him as much as he’d have liked you to be. No, you were always there for one of his siblings. You were there to talk with Daphne, first about her courting of the Duke and then slowly transitioning into how she felt about being a married woman and then a mother. He could also find you sketching in silence next to Benedict, the two of you attempting to draw the same scene and then critiquing each other's work when you were done. You would trade books and ideas with Eloise, listen to Fran play the piano while working on your embroidery, and the scenes which would warm his heart the most, you’d come around to chase after Greg and Hyacinth playing with them in the gardens and keeping a watchful eye to make sure they stayed safe.

Anthony adored how close you were to his siblings, and he loathed how much of a distance there seemed to be between the two of you.

You were cold to the Viscount, you had been since the evening you came to Daphne’s rescue, he had attempted to give you his thanks and you had simply excused yourself, “My apologies, my Lord but I seem to be down a glass of lemonade presently and I find myself to be quite parched, excuse me.” Your tone was cold and Anthony spent the rest of that night and subsequently the next two years trying to figure out what he possibly could've done to make you so icy towards him.

“I do not understand it Ben, she is so kind and lovely to the rest of you but is like a stone wall when it comes to me, what could I be missing?”

“Perhaps she just doesn’t like you brother, have you ever thought of that?” Benedict was too preoccupied with this still life to deal with his older brother's pining at the moment.

“That is not possible, I’ve done nothing but be the perfect gentleman to her.”

“Anthony I have no idea why dear Y/N does not like you, but what exactly will you whining in my studio do about that?”

“I resent that. I am not whining I am simply asking my dearest brother for his advice on a matter I care very much about. I thought that was what brothers were for.”

“You want my advice, Anthony? Think. Think long and hard about what you want and how you’ll get it because Y/N has no patience for wishy-washy men.”

“That is horrible advice, Ben.”

“When then perhaps you can find better advice from your other brothers. Which will it be Anthony, the one who has been blindly in love with his best friend for years, or the ten-year-old?”

“I hate it when you’re right.”

“I know. Now leave, that storm cloud above your head is casting shadows on my fruit.” Ben pointed his paintbrush at the bowl of fruit balanced atop a stool. Anthony huffed and knowing that it would bother his brother, he grabbed the apple off the top of the pile and took a bite of it as he strode out of the room

Ben had told him to think, but Anthony didn’t know what to think about. He knew that he craved your attention. He knew that he enjoyed seeing you around his house, interacting with the people whom he loves. He enjoyed hearing your witty comebacks and the way that even if you were not doing anything in particular you still fill the space you’re in.

He wanted you in his life, and if he was being completely honest with himself he wanted more than that.

It’s during his musing that he runs into you in the hallway, you have a book clutched within your hand, and your head is held high. You don’t stop your stride even though he knows that you saw him. He bites his lip and tampers down a smirk. Add another thing to that list of things he likes about you, you have fire, he just wished that it wasn’t always aimed at him.

“Lady, L/N which one of my dear siblings are you spending your day with today?” He attempts to match his pace with yours catching up to you so that the two of you walk shoulder and shoulder.

“Actually, Lord Bridgerton, I was having tea with your mother this afternoon she invited me over so we could discuss what to do about Frannie’s debut next season.”

This was not something that normal family friends do, you know that and he knows that. His sibling’s entrances into society are a matter which the viscountess must handle, something his mother has had to continue to do because of his lack of a wife.

“That was very kind of you to help her with.”

“Well, she doesn’t have anyone else to help her.” Your words cut him down, not for the first time.

“Lady L/N may I be frank?”

“It is your home, you may do as you please.” You turn to face him, your face a mask of indifference.

“What have I done to cross you? For the whole time I have known you you have been cold to me and I do not understand why.”

“I had figured that you did not remember, either that or you had purposely forgone trying to speak with me about it.”

“About what?”

“Our first meeting My Lord.”

“I remember our first meeting very clearly, it is one of my fondest memories seeing you stand up for Daphne and ruin Lord Taylor’s vest.” He tilts his head to the side and smiles at the memory.

“That was not the first time we met My Lord, the first time we met you snubbed me in front of the entire ton and sparked rumors that did not leave me until two seasons later.” She was harsh in her words and the tightness in her shoulder’s belayed her desire to flee.

Anthony was speechless, surely he had not? He would’ve remembered her, would’ve remembered turning down one of the most beautiful women he had ever met, intentionally or otherwise.

“I- I beg your deepest forgiveness Y/N I do not remember and if I had I would’ve tried to make it up to you tenfold by now.”

Your eyes began to gloss over and you looked at the wall beside his head, “It was my first season out, Lady Danbury’s ball, and I had seen you standing there surrounded by other gentleman. I had thought you a very fine figure and despite the rumor mill telling me you were nothing but a rake I had tried to begin a conversation. All you did was turn to me and laugh. I wasn’t asked to dance for the entire rest of that season and it was only until my Mother forced the son of one of her garden party friends to dance with me was that streak broken. You were the first and only man I had ever attempted to pursue and you laughed in my face. Were it not for my deep need to help those I see in need I would never have talked to you or any member of the Bridgerton family for the rest of my life.”

“You must know that I regret that, I regret everything I have ever done to hurt you and I will spend the rest of my days working for your forgiveness.” If Anthony was a weaker man he would’ve fallen to his knees and begged for your forgiveness until his last breath, right there in the hallways of his family’s home.

“I appreciate your words Anthony, but that’s all they are… words. I am unmarried, one year from becoming a spinster in the eyes of the entire ton, and you, you are the only one I can blame.” You don’t wait for his reply, just stalking off and wiping the tears from your eyes.

Anthony resolved himself in that moment. He would do whatever it took to make it up to you, to bring a smile to your face, and to cast away the hurt he had caused.

Part 2

#anthony bridgerton x plus size reader #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine #x reader #fanfic #bridgerton fanfiction #plus size reader #plus size!reader #drabble #requests open #requests wanted #bridgerton

884 notes · View notes