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#chaotic brothers from another mother
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Mun vs Muse
Tagged by: @thatsneakymedic
Tagging: idk whoever wants to do it.
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pdraxxi · 15 days
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Template by @riessene My son Adren(rook) cannot wait to play him im so excited!!
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a-s-ter · 4 months
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"𝑫𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒊𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆"
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— 𝐒𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬: If you don't want your butler to reach a breaking point and take matters into his own hands by 'disciplining' you, perhaps refrain from behaving like a spoiled brat next time.
— 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: rough sex , unprotected sex , brat!reader , overstimulation , bttm male reader , blowjob , smacking , swearing , dirtytalk , praise , manhandling , dirty talk , age gap , virgin!reader , making out , degradation , petnames , non con , public sex.
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PART 1 , PART 2
You were furious. Shattering objects around your room, you turned your once pristine chamber into a chaotic mess. Your anger overflowed onto everyone around you, shouting and unleashing abuse.
After that, you broke down. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you gripped the bed sheets, sprawled on your royal bed still clad in your sleepwear.
You were M/n, the prince! How could you have stooped so low as to beg someone, especially a butler? It was utterly humiliating! What would your father and mother say if they discovered your shameful behavior?
Your father had placed a heavy burden upon your shoulders, entrusting you with the future of the empire. He had envisioned you as a paragon of strength, resilience, and dominance. However, you found yourself succumbing to the influence of a mere butler. His admonitions reverberated in your mind like a relentless echo.
"Do not disappoint me. Be strong and wield the sword with skill, just as your brother does. My time wanes, and the throne shall be yours upon my passing. Fail me not, M/n, lest I consider another heir."
These words were etched into your very being, a constant weight upon your conscience. You vowed not to falter. You would rise above this moment of weakness and prove yourself worthy of the crown he had bestowed upon you.
Your cries were silent, hidden from the world. You couldn't bear the thought of anyone discovering your weakness, fearing it would tarnish your reputation and redefine how others perceived you. You couldn't afford to be seen as anything less than the strong and dominant M/n they expected.
You couldn't let your mother and father see this side of you. No one could know your vulnerability. But that butler had already glimpsed your submissive nature, a betrayal you couldn't forgive.
Clutching the bedsheets tighter, you vowed to exact punishment upon him. But how? The question gnawed at you as you plotted your next move.
"Your Highness?"
Your eyes widened as you recognized that voice. It was that damned butler! Quickly, you got up from your bed and hurried to the door without thinking. With a rush of irritation, you swung it open and came face-to-face with that annoying face you despised.
"You asshole! How dare you show your face in front of me!? Get out of my sight, I never wish to see you here ever again!" you yelled, your voice trembling with anger.
He stared down at you, his yellow eyes cold and calculating as they scanned your face. "That's such a shame, Your Highness," he replied, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "You'll be seeing me more often."
"W—what the heck do you mean by that!?" you demanded, your bewilderment evident in your tone.
"Your mother," he began, his tone dripping with smug satisfaction, "heard about your recent behavior and was quite shocked. When she saw that I possess the proper manners and decorum you seem to lack, she decided I would be the perfect candidate to be your new etiquette teacher." His words hung in the air, leaving you stunned and speechless.
You chuckled nervously, hoping it was some twisted joke. "H-hey... Tell me you're joking. Y-you're joking, right!?" Desperation seeped into your voice as you grabbed his collar harshly, trying to shake the truth out of him.
"I'm afraid not," he replied calmly, his smirk unwavering. "She found out about your behavior towards the maids and your lack of manners, Your Highness."
Anger flared within you at his words, and you tightened your grip on his collar. "So what if I have no manners!? I couldn't care less about those worthless maids! Those 'foods' are nothing but garbage. We don't eat slop like that; it's disgusting! They should've been kicked out of this castle ages ago! Just like you! Just a lowly butler who's probably good at nothing, maybe just some trash my father picked up!" you spat.
"Your words only confirm why I'm here. Perhaps it's time you learned the value of respect and humility your highness."
"No! Fuck off asshole!" you exclaimed, but he paid no heed to your protests. With a swift motion, he forcefully removed your grip on his collar and seized your wrist in a tight grip, his hold unyielding.
You struggled against his grasp, but it was futile. With a determined stride, he barged into your room, his grip still firm as he flung you to the unforgiving floor. A sharp hiss escaped your lips as pain shot through your body upon impact.
As you lay there, vulnerable and in pain, you watched helplessly as he closed the door behind him and locked it, sealing you both in.
He glared down at you, his eyes a piercing yellow that sent shivers down your spine.
"Shall we begin the lesson with your mouth, Your Highness?" His words were laced with a commanding tone as he strode towards you.
"My mouth!? What do you mean by my mouth? Stay away, you filthy vermin!" You attempted to rise, but your legs failed you, leaving you vulnerable on the floor.
With a smirk that sent a chill down your spine, he loomed over you, seizing your chin to meet his gaze forcibly.
"You have such beautiful eyes your highness. Staring at me like that turns me on." he declared, as your gaze involuntarily dropped to his pants, where a noticeable bulge had formed.
"Do you want to see it? See how I'm going to lecture that mouth of yours?" His tone was both mocking and tantalizing as he began to undo his belt, the metallic clink resonating in the tense silence of the room.
"N-no, no! I don't want to see your icky meat!" you protested, but your words fell on deaf ears as he proceeded to remove his belt and push down his underwear.
Your eyes widened in shock as his erect member was revealed before you, Tall and pale white with a crimson hue at the tip, it stood proudly before you, veins pulsing along its length as it throbbed with anticipation.
"It's yours," he declared, his voice thick with desire, "all yours for you to see anytime and anywhere, Your Highness."
"W-wha—?" Your attempt at a coherent response was abruptly stifled as he seized your head, thrusting his cock into your mouth with an aggressive force that left you gasping for air. The sudden intrusion hit the back of your throat, eliciting a choked gurgle of surprise as your eyes widened in shock.
Instinctively, you reached out, grasping onto his thighs for support as you struggled to accommodate his size. Sweat beaded on his brow as he grunted in satisfaction, relishing the sight of you adjusting to his relentless penetration. His grip tightened on your hair, adding to the sensation of his control over you.
"Mhmm, that's a good boy... Taking me all in," he murmured, his voice thick with lust as he watched you with a predatory gaze.
"Ngh... Let's begin the lesson, Your Highness." With a deliberate motion, he began to withdraw his cock from your mouth, only to slam it back in with a force that stole your breath away. Your grip on his thighs tightened as tears welled in your eyes, a mixture of pain and submission washing over you as you surrendered to his will.
He moaned in ecstasy, throwing his head back as the overwhelming sensations consumed him. The warmth of your mouth enveloped him, the slickness of your saliva adding to the intensity of his pleasure. With each thrust, he felt himself sinking deeper into bliss, utterly lost in the euphoria of the moment.
As he gazed down at you, he couldn't help but marvel at the sight before him. Your furrowed brows, the blush that painted your cheeks, the subtle bulge he noticed in your pants – it was all too much, too perfect. In this moment, you belonged to him and him alone.
"Kick and claw all you like. Scream. Hit me. Curse the fuck out of me. Only you can do that to me and not to anyone else, i don't want your attention to go to anyone but me. You don't belong to anyone but me, M/n. Only me." he declared, his words laced with a possessive fervor as he continued to thrust into your mouth, each motion driving him closer to the edge.
As you gasped for breath, he withdrew his cock from your mouth allowing you a moment to recover. Relief flooded through you as you gulped in air, your chest heaving with the effort while a smirk was playing on his lips as he observed your struggle.
With a cruel chuckle, he grasped his cock firmly in his hand and lightly slapped your flushed cheeks with it, Your glare met his amused gaze. Chuckling softly as he seemed to revel in your reaction.
"Day to dusk, I'm going to fuck that bratty attitude out of you, so you better be ready, your Highness."
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ithebookhoarder · 11 months
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Truth or Dare (Anthony Bridgerton x Wife!Reader)
Summary: Married only a few months, you are very much one of the Bridgerton brood - something that often drives your poor husband mad, especially when you happen to be every bit as chaotic and unruly as his siblings... Also known as, you, Benedict and Eloise take a game of ‘truth or dare’ a bit too far. 
A/N: What can I say? It’s well and truly fluff-tober over here on my blog 😅
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Warnings: Alcohol, mild smut, swearing, Anthony losing his mind, typical Bridgerton sibling shenanigans 
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There weren’t many nights Anthony spent away from your side.
They were few and far between, but that didn’t lessen how irksome you found them when the odd occasion called for him to leave you over night. You didn’t know what it was exactly, but you never truly slept well without your husband there to hold you.
Of course, it had to be one of those nights that you truly found yourself in a spot of mischief. Though, in fairness, it had all started rather innocently.
Un-beknowst to you at the time, it was Benedict that had been first outside on the garden swing, sipping from a stolen bottle of whiskey he’d pilfered from the kitchens. He’d been sat there perhaps ten minutes by himself, staring at the stars and lamenting about some problem or other.
Then Eloise had come along.
As was her habit - you later discovered - she had been swift to follow her brother’s example, sneaking out of the house in her nightgown for a reprieve in the night air… and a cigarette or two. Apparently her second-eldest brother was something of a soft touch when it came to her, not that you could blame him for it. You doted on Eloise too.
Then, finally, completing the eclectic cast of characters, there had been you.
Now, in your defence, you hadn’t intended on going out into the garden that night, but had found no other alternative suitable given the blasted summer heat. It was worse tonight that it had been all week, and without Anthony in bed beside you, you saw little point in enduring with the effort of trying to get any rest.
So, you’d decided to make your way quietly through the house and sit outside a while, and pray for a breeze. You hadn’t, however, expected to find both Bridgerton siblings already sat there, having had a similar idea.
“My, what do we have here? Another night owl?”
It was Benedict who spoke first, smiling warmly at the sight of you appearing out of the darkness. He was quick to rise, offering you his swing as a perch to rest upon, beside Eloise.
You were about to protest that it wasn’t necessary and that you could find somewhere else to sit, but a warning glare from Eloise was enough to silence you.
She was all too eager to pat the seat next to her in invitation, looking remarkably pleased to have another addition to their little party.
“Come. Sit,” she ordered. “We were simply discussing how tedious Lady Tremaine’s luncheon will be tomorrow and how we could possibly avoid the whole thing. Now that you’re here, you can help us plot our escape. Benedict’s only suggestion thus far has been some kind of contagious summer cold.”
“I think I actually said that I would use such an excuse, sister,” Benedict corrected with a teasing grin. “Not that we would share it.”
“Traitor.”
“Hardly. It is every man - or woman - for themselves. Right, Y/N?”
“Alas, I think your mother would be rather suspicious at all three of us suddenly being absent,” you sighed by way of explanation as both their eyes turned to you. “Besides, I only came outside because of this heat, not to join some conspiracy.”
“Hardly,” Eloise chuckled. “We simply had the same idea, but I am rather glad you came to join us. Perhaps we should form some secret kind of club - Bridgertons against boredom?”
“And do what? Constantly find excuses not to attend social events we deem too tedious or odious to be dragged along to?”
“Sounds like a marvellous idea to me.”
“It would, sister dear,” Benedict teased. “You always have a talent for causing chaos and anarchy. You’d suit the cause perfectly, even if we both know our mother would never stand for it. She somehow sees through even our best efforts.”
“In which case, it’s time I take a leaf out of your book, Benedict. After all, you always say social events become far more bearable after a good drink or two,” Eloise smirked, gesturing towards the bottle of whiskey Benedict had been steadily nursing. “Perhaps I should follow my brothers  example and learn to hold a drink, maybe then things will be more fun.”
“Oh no.” Benedict was quick to shut down that idea, holding the bottle possessively to his chest and shaking his head. “No. I am not allowing you to start drinking. Mother would have my head if she caught you, not to mention Anthony would have all ours heads on a platter in no time.”
The thought of it made you laugh. Your husband was hardly a tyrant, even if he’d been known to have a temper but he was easy enough to handle. A few soft words in his ear or a kiss on the cheek and he was putty in your hands, helplessly and completely in love with you. Just as you were in love with him.
“Don’t tell me you’re scared of Anthony, Benedict?” you giggled, causing Eloise to join you. “I assure you, he’s more a kitten than a lion and he’d probably prefer you to allow Eloise to sample alcohol here, under your supervision, than when she inevitably decides to rebel and has her first drink later on, in the middle of some public ball…”
The warning was clear and you all knew very likely true. Still, Eloise was beaming in victory as Benedict cursed to himself, muttering about Bridgerton women and the likely death he’d receive should Anthony ever find out he had allowed Eloise to sample whiskey. “Just a few sips, El. I mean it.”
“Oh hush,” she snorted, taking the bottle before he could change his mind. She was quick to throw back her head and down a rather brave mouthful, causing you to laugh even harder as she scrunched her face up in disgust. “Oh! That is revolting.”
“I told you.”
“Now you, Y/N,” Eloise grinned, turning and offering the offending item towards you. “Go on. Join us trouble makers - I won’t say a word about it if you don’t.”
“Oh, for goodness sake… Give me that then,” you sighed, earning a cheer from them both, knowing it was better to simply surrender rather than try and fight their mischievous whims. It only increased as you took an ambitious swig from the bottle, wincing at the acrid burning sensation it left in your throat.
If only Anthony could have seen you. He’d have probably had some kind of seizure - especially as you took another quick swig before handing the bottle back.
“There. Your turn again, brother dearest.”
“My my. You really are quite surprising,” Benedict sniggered, before winking up at you in admiration. “Who knew it? You can hold your drink better than Colin. He seems cursed to choke any time he drinks anything stronger than a brandy.”
“Well, it is your sex that falsely deemed us the weaker,” Eloise quipped. “It’s not our fault you were ignorant.”
“I’d like to remind you I wasn’t part of that decision and you also looked ready to choke a moment ago, El.”
“Doesn’t matter, you’re still one of the enemy,” she giggled, earning another raucous laugh from you. Oh, you loved her. If you’d ever been so blessed to have had a sister, you hoped she’d have been just like her. “Now, it is your turn again, brother.”
“Oh … joy.”
“Else we shall have to have some kind of forfeit.”
“A forfeit?” you scoffed, finding the idea absurd. “Like what?”
“How about… truth or dare?”
Benedict froze. “Oh no. Not again. Pall Mall is one thing but we swore we would never play that game in this family again-“
“But Benedict-“
“What’s truth or dare?”
Your innocent question ceased their bickering instantly. Their eyes widened as they turned to you, a knowing and nervous look passing between them. Somehow, you knew this evening was about to get wildly out of hand.
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Sometime later, you’d been fully apprised of the rules of ‘truth or dare’. In fact, you’d been something of a natural at it, even if you knew the copious amounts of whiskey you’d all consumed was more than likely the responsible culprit. Else, you’d probably have known better and snuck back off inside before you could make a fool of yourself.
By the end of the night, Benedict had climbed a tree, confessed to being oddly scared of spiders, and been forced to sing the national anthem in French.
Eloise had also made an admirable effort, despite her obviously lower tolerance for drink. She still permitted Benedict to try and arrange her hair, before daring to steal a sock from Colin’s room whilst he’d slept. Then she’d loosened a leg on a dining chair. (Alas, none of you could remember which one but that somehow made it even funnier - even if it would not be come morning when you were forced to sit at the table for breakfast in some kind of roulette.)
You could only pray you didn’t choose said seat.
You could also only pray neither of your conspirators shared your contributions with your husband. You weren’t exactly sure how Anthony would feel at the fact you gone for a midnight paddle in the pond, nor that you’d mixed up the papers on his desk, all before finishing the night with a final dare that involved stealing several cakes from the kitchens… you still swore Mrs Reynolds would notice, come morning, that there were no longer twelve perfect cakes.
That, and Benedict had somehow knocked flour all over the counter, causing you all to erupt in drunken laughter as you’d bolted back outside.  
Needless to say, you all looked a sorry sight as you lay in the grass together, staring at the approaching dawn. Had you not been so tired, or drunk, you may have suggested retiring back to your rooms before the house awoke shortly.
“Now that… was fun.”
“Fun? That was more than fun. I haven’t laughed like that in ages.”
“Told you it was a good idea.”
You hummed in agreement with your sister in law.
“I can see why you all favoured this game so much,” you sniggered, winking at Eloise as she sat in the grass beside you. “I can also see why you all agreed to stop playing it… I don’t know what Anthony would say if he saw what we’d been up to.”
“Something sensible and disapproving most likely,” Benedict sniggered. “Our brother, and your husband, can be a right prig, no offence.”
“Oh hush. At least I didn’t let my sister dress me up in her petticoat when she was five.”
Benedict’s jaw dropped.
“Who told you about that?” he demanded indignantly.
“I have my sources.”
Benedict’s eyes narrowed as he turned his head to glare at his younger sister. “Well, you can tell your source that she’s going to have to find someone else to fetch her lemonade at the Cowper’s ball tomorrow night unless she apologises. You can also tell her that I’ll accept either a verbal or a written apology as long as it’s suitably abject. And that means very, very abject,” he added darkly.
“Tell me, Benedict, was it a lacy petticoat?”
With a wordless grunt of annoyance, Benedict groaned, but it was hard to hear over the laughter echoing from you and Eloise. You resembled more a pack of hyenas than two noble ladies - you probably looked just as feral after your night of mischief.
And of course, as was always your luck, that was exactly how your husband found you mere seconds later.
How Anthony had arrived without any of you hearing a carriage pulling up to the house at this time of the night - morning? You couldn’t be sure - was a mystery. Yet, there he was, hands on hips and looking thunderous as he stormed towards the three of you with all the fury of an exasperated headmaster.  
“What in God’s name are you all playing at?”
You all froze.
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It was as if someone had poured a bucket of ice water over you as your eyes widened, and you all turned to stare sheepishly at him.
“Oh, darling. You’re home?”
“Don’t ‘oh darling’ me,” Anthony sighed, attempting to scold you but without much success. His attempt at seriousness was somewhat undermined by his brother’s heckling, singing ‘here comes mother’ and that ‘someone’s in trouble’. That, and with the way you were lying, he was upside down. “What are you doing up at this god forsaken hour? And why are you … is that flour? And why are you soaking wet?”
“I went for a swim.”
“A - you went for a -“
“And Benedict did my hair,” Eloise interjected suddenly, waving her arms about as she gestured to the tangle of hair upon her head. “Isn’t it marvellous?”
Anthony’s expression very much said that he did not think it was marvellous. Nor did he find any of this vaguely amusing.
In fact, by the way he took a long deep breath, you knew he was doing his best not to lose his temper and wake the entirety of the household. His brow always creased like that when he was faced with dealing with his family, but the expression only made him seem more adorable and handsome to you, rather than authoritative. However, you’d never told him so, knowing it would hardly be deemed a compliment in his eyes.
You also doubted he’d appreciate your usual response right now, which was normally to kiss said brow until it eased back into its relaxed form.
“We were just playing a game to escape the heat, darling,” you soothed. “We couldn’t sleep and all had the same idea to seek refuge outdoors… we simply got carried away passing the time.”
“What game?”
“Pardon?”
“I said, what was the game you were all playing?” Anthony suddenly quipped, the warning clear in his tone. That, and his eyes landed squarely on his two siblings, who at least had the decency to look sheepish… and afraid. “Because there is but one game I can think of that would result in a mess like this one, and I’m confused, because I know for a fact that we banned that game under this roof, and any other roof that houses the Bridgertons.”
No one moved.
No one even breathed.
It was as if you were all too scared to risk answering Anthony, even if the empty bottle of whiskey did most of the talking by itself.
“I don’t recall the name,” you blinked. “Right, Benedict?”
“Oh, uh… we… we were just- Eloise?”
Eloise froze, the guilt written all too clearly on her face for her to even try and salvage the situation - though that could also be down to the whisky she had consumed… it was honestly hard to be sure at this point.
“Well, dear brother,” she began, only to trail off as Anthony lifted his hand.
The silence was instantaneous. 
No one dared to say another word, let alone move. 
You’d never seen Eloise or Benedict so still in your entire life. Hell, you weren’t even sure they were breathing - probably out of fear Anthony would decide to inform their mother about their mischievous exploits. 
If Anthony Bridgerton was scary when vexed, then Violet Bridgerton was a nightmare brought to life in human form. After all, as the matriarch of a family of eight children, she had learned a long time ago how to keep her unruly children in line - a harrowing experience you had only had occasion to witness once or twice since your marriage into the Bridgerton family. Once had been when Colin and Gregory had broken a priceless vase when racing around the house, despite being explicitly banned from doing so. The other had been when she had caught Eloise and Benedict smoking outside on the terrace one night. 
It was easy to say where your husband had inherited it from. 
“Not. Another. Word,” your husband growled, bending down and sweeping you up into his arms in a move that made you squeal in surprise. “Right now, I am taking my wife to bed and I suggest you two do the same - after you clean up your mess. I’ll deal with the lot of you in the morning.” 
A laugh escaped you as you tried not to look like you were enjoying the sudden turn of events too much. After all, you doubted he’d be too happy once you were more sober and he discovered the true extent of your nightly activities. 
It was why you were only too happy to let him put you to bed, grumbling all the while about letting his siblings run wild. He really was most handsome when he was flushed - a fact you were reminded of as he hastily changed for bed, flashing you a tempting glimpse of his bare torso in the process. 
You could tell without asking he was tired from his journey home, as well as fighting the urge to rip his hair out over the chaos he had found upon his return. 
Thankfully, his need to be in your arms outweighed the need to scold you over letting yourself be drawn into his siblings’ schemes. All it took was you pulling him down onto the mattress, and climbing into his lap to turn him into a needy, lovestruck puddle. 
You’d equally missed having him in your arms, but you’d be lying if you said that your sudden forwardness wasn't also due to a mixture of the whiskey you’d drunk, and the residual giddiness from a night of mischief. A confidence radiated from you as you began to run your hands over his bare chest, taking care to graze the areas you knew made him groan. 
“You’re lucky I love you so much,” he teased breathlessly, visibly unable to refuse your advances. 
“Is that so?”
Anthony chuckled, nodding as he surged his lips towards yours. “Yes, so come here, my delinquent drunken wife, and let me kiss you before you and those doe-eyes of yours drive me insane. Now.”
Your laughter and surrender was immediate. “As you wish.” 
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Alas, for poor Anthony, that was not the end of the ordeal. 
In fact, it was the next morning as you made your way into breakfast that you faced the final consequences of your delinquency. 
Despite wishing to remain abed for the entire day, you’d been granted no such reprieve as your maid had entered your room at the usual appointed time and proceeded to open the curtains with no regard for the fact that you had slept a mere handful of hours. Whereas you would normally greet the day with a reluctant smile, you were in no state to manage much more than a groan as you were harshly ripped from your slumber.
If you had somehow not yet come to the conclusion that last night had been a bad idea, then the sudden flare of pain in your head at the bright intrusion was all the proof you needed. That, and the sudden churning in your stomach. 
You would never let Benedict or Eloise coax you into drinking with them again. 
You had not realised, despite how the idiom went, that what went up was sure to come down again - and you had come crashing down. 
Hard.
“If you’re ready to dress, my lady, then breakfast will be served shortly,” your maid chirped, a dress already picked out for you to wear. She either couldn't detect your fragile state, or didn't seem to care as she continued speaking at a painfully loud volume. “My Lord sent me to wake you as he is finishing business in the study. He was up frightfully early, I could scarce believe it went the housemaids told me they’d already found him awake when they went to start the fires this morning. Gave young Samantha a right fright he did, scribbling away at his desk.” 
“Oh?” you croaked. 
You hadn’t even noticed the empty space in the bed bedside you until then. 
Clearly Anthony had risen early, if he’d even gone to sleep at all. Why were you not surprised? Your husband was perpetually in motion, always claiming there was something or someone that needed his urgent attention as the head of the Bridgerton clan. It was just one of the things that made you love him so much.
“Is he still there?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” the young girl continued, breezing about your room. “And that’s not the only strange incident this morning. It will tickle you rotten when I tell you the latest drama, but you see, Mrs Reynolds was ranting and raving about how she swore she had made three trays of fruit tarts last night, yet this morning, there were only two. The youngest kitchen maid, Betsy, is convinced it must be a ghost but my money is on Carter - the groom’s boy - he’s always snooping about the kitchen...” 
You winced. Ah. Maybe you hadn't been as stealthy last night as you’d hoped after all...
With as much enthusiasm as you could muster, you began to peel yourself from the mattress, trying to appear as if you were listening to your maid’s theories as she dressed you for the day. It then took all your resolve to make it downstairs and to the breakfast table without tripping over your own feet, or emptying the non-existent contents of your stomach. 
To your relief, only Eloise and Benedict had so far taken a seat at the breakfast table - and both looked about as miserable as you felt.  
“Good morning,” you mumbled, taking your usual chair next to the head of the table. You were quick to accept the steaming cup of coffee Benedict handed you, shooting him a thankful look. “Dare I ask how we feel?” 
“I think better than you and my dear sister here,” Benedict chirped, gesturing at a miserable looking Eloise. She had her head in her hands and was desperately trying to look at the plate of food in front of her with something other than repulsion. “Then again, I must admit I am somewhat more experienced in the art of late-night mischief than you both. I also did not have to deal with my brother before going to bed - thank you, again, for that noble sacrifice.”
“Your welcome,” you chuckled, a faint heat rising in your cheeks as you remembered the exact events after you and Anthony had gone to bed. “I just feel bad that you both got left to clean up the mess.” 
“Don’t be. I think we got it all.”
“You say that but I can’t remember anything after you started singing in French,” Eloise groaned, massaging her forehead once more. “I have the oddest feeling we may have forgotten something.”
You paused. You could only hope for your sake she was wrong. 
However, you were saved from such discussion by the arrival of the rest of the Bridgerton bunch. All conversation about your night-time escapades were quickly forgotten as Colin, Hyacinth and Gregory entered the room, bickering about something you couldn’t quite make out. They were swiftly followed by Violet and Francesca, who both looked unfairly cheerful for so early in the morning. 
You could only wish to look so fresh and composed before your first cup of whatever caffeinated beverage you could get your hands on. 
Then, finally, came your husband. Entering the room last, he turned and shot you a warm smile. Clearly, your shenanigans had been forgotten - for now - replaced instead by the memory of your other activities, much to the relief of you and your co-conspirators. 
In fact, you swore you saw Eloise exhale a breath of relief when Anthony didn't immediately launch into one of his lectures. Instead, he chose to join the rest of his family in helping himself to the awaiting breakfast spread, laid out on the sideboard for them, listening to some ongoing debate between his mother and youngest brother. 
“-but you said we could visit the park this afternoon.”
“I know, sweetheart, but I have to take Francesca and Eloise for their final fittings at the modiste. We shouldn’t be too long, and we can go after? Unless, perhaps your brothers will take you. Colin? Benedict? Anthony?”
Benedict looked physically pained at the idea of an afternoon at the park, what with his current delicate constitution and all. You honestly couldn't blame him. “Well, I uh - have a drawing class, this afternoon. Very last minute. Sorry.” 
“And I... um, have a meeting at the club?” Colin stammered hastily. “Anthony?” 
“Please, Anthony?” Gregory begged, all but pouting at his older brother as the pair made their way to the table. “I promise I’ll do all my lessons this week without complaining if you say yes. I’ll even let you have my pudding tonight.”
“As you asked so nicely, brother, I don’t see how an hour or so at the park could do any harm -” Anthony began, pulling out the chair next to you and lowering himself onto the seat in a moment that felt like it lasted forever as a horrifying sensation swept over you. 
You remembered what you’d forgotten. 
The chair.
“Anthony, wait-!”
The sudden crash was startling, as was the sight of your husband being sent flying backwards as the chair collapsed beneath him. 
No one moved. 
No one said a word. 
Benedict looked across at you and Eloise, the horror clear in his eyes as he choked the word you felt on the tip of your tongue: “Run!”
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crazyforboys · 17 days
Text
i. the first encounter
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pairing aemond targaryen x fem!reader genre best friends brother, summer home, modern au, eventual smut, secret relationship, college students
you marvel at the targaryen summer home and find yourself intrigued by helaena's mysterious brother, aemond.
warnings for this chapter. a bit of rhaenyra slander (i love her this is just a fic). aemond talks once lol. mother alicent! targaryen girls suspect alicent and criston are hooking up (they are). reader and aemie share a bathroom smirks. aemond lore unlocked. SHORT HAIR AEMOND RAHHH. aemond does not wear an eyepatch here sorry. not much for this one sorry, it will get better trust me!
word count. 3,172
SERIES MASTERLIST 𖤐 KO-FI 𖤐 CROSS-POSTED TO AO3
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With Helaena Targaryen as your roommate, your first year of university flew by. She was like a burst of caffeine when you were feeling drained — her presence was as noticeable as the moon in the night sky, shining brighter than all the stars. Helaena’s easy going nature made her an instant friend, and her keen awareness of her surroundings meant she could read you well. Knowing you lacked the courage to make other friends (just as she did), she had no trouble inviting you to join her friends Baela and Rhaena — who you later discovered were actually her cousins (by discovered you mean you suspected they were because of the violet eyes and the silver hair). Although their family connection initially intimidated you, they never made you feel like an outsider.
As summer drew to a close, you dreaded the approaching end of your break. Other summers, most of your time off was spent indoors, lying in bed and binge-watching one series after another. Your parents weren’t neglectful, but they were far from attentive. As a result, you didn't share the same excitement for summer as everyone else.
Helaena soon noticed that you seemed upset. Her instincts were as sharp as they were uncanny — despite your efforts to mask your mood, she saw right through it. When she asked what was bothering you, you hesitated to explain how dull your summer had been, fearing you might come across as a snob. However, Helaena was persistent and wouldn’t let the matter drop until she got to the bottom of it.
You confided in Helaena about how you felt, not expecting her to do anything about it. You knew that even if you stayed in the dorm over the summer, she would still have to go home, making your situation no different from returning to your own place. Your year at university had been made wonderful not by the academic experience, but by Helaena and her cousins, Baela and Rhaena.
To you, the Targaryens were like heaven on earth. So when they offered to take you home with them for the summer, it felt like a dream come true, as if angels were granting your wish.
Kings Landing, where their summer house was located, was only about an hour from the university, so the train was a convenient option since none of you had a car. You took the window seat — essential for you, as you couldn’t bear to be in a vehicle without gazing outside. Helaena sat beside you, with a throw blanket spread over both your laps while she embroidered on her stitch sampler. Baela sat in front of you, nose deep in a book, and Rhaena sat beside her, headphones on and brows furrowed as she sketched doodles in her sketchbook.
“Okay,” Helaena announces, drawing your and Baela’s attention. Rhaena, too engrossed in her music, was oblivious to the conversation. You couldn’t help but think she might end up deaf by thirty with the volume she had on. Baela nudged her twin to get her attention, and Helaena continued. “Before we get there, we just want you to know that our family isn’t like most families… rather—”
“Dysfunctional?” Rhaena interjects. “Chaotic? Oh, oh, problematic! Did I mention dysfunctional?”
It was clear that the three girls had mixed feelings about their family and its dynamics. You couldn’t help but wonder why they were heading back home for the summer if they felt this way. You hoped they were just being dramatic and that it wasn’t as bad as they made it seem. However, their reactions whenever they talked about their family suggested otherwise.
“Well, yes, but perhaps we should tell her about everyone,” Helaena suggests. “The good things, of course.”
“What good thi–oof!”
Baela interrupts Rhaena with a shove to her side. Rhaena winces and rubs her side while pouting at her sister.
“There’s Alicent, Hel’s mother,” Baela begins.
“Although, we suspect she’s sleeping with Cole, the butler.” Helaena whispers, as if anyone who shouldn’t know this is around. Baela and Rhaena nod in agreement, humming their assent.
Your jaw drops. It seemed that the Targaryen family might indeed be as chaotic as they’d hinted.
“Um, then there’s my brother Aegon,” Helaena continues. “He has a tendency to flirt with anything that has a vagina, so if he makes you uncomfortable, let us know and we’ll deal with him.”
“Oh! Tell her about Aemond!” Rhaena chimes in eagerly.
“You talk about Aemond as if he’s a scary story time character.” Baela says.
“He is a scary story time character. Have you ever been in a room alone with him? Even his silence scares me.”
“Who is Aemond?” you ask, curiously.
“One of my brothers,” Helaena answers. “He’s just… different.”
“As in?” you prompt, encouraging her to elaborate.
“As in he's scary and a bit weird.” Rhaena interjects, earning another nudge from Baela.
“He just keeps to himself.” Helaena says in nicer words. “When we were kids, our nephew Jace and him got into a pretty serious fight. They were pushing and punching, and Jace’s brother, Luke, stepped in. He ended up taking Aemond’s eye out with a rock. Luke was just protecting his brother; they were all kids at the time. My sister never apologized for her sons doing. But Aemond could never forgive them even if she did. Losing his eye has caused him much more pain than any of us will ever know.”
“Things just get awkward when the boys and their mother, Rhaenyra, come around.” Baela adds. “Especially between Alicent and her.”
“She still comes by?” you ask.
“Yep,” Rhaena confirms. “She’s her fathers favorite.”
Helaena stiffens at that, head hanging low.
Gods, this family had much more layers than you initially realized.
Rhaenyra sounded like the main root of the family chaos. It was appalling for her son to take out her brother's eye, even if it was an accident. Whether or not Aemond would forgive Luke for what he did, losing his eye would cause him pain eternally, surely there would always be some sort of resentment towards the boy. And with Rhaenyra being her father’s favorite, it was understandable that Helaena — and possibly her brothers — might have complicated feelings about it.
The conversation tapered off, and everyone returned to their activities for the rest of the train ride. Yet, you could sense a subtle shift in Helaena beside you, a quiet tension that hadn’t been there before.
Once the train arrived in Kings Landing, you grabbed your bags and followed the Targaryen girls through the crowded platform. They were scanning the sea of faces, struggling to locate who they were looking for. Somehow, they spotted the person — a quite attractive man with dark, long curly locks and facial hair. You only realized they did when Rhaena grabbed you by your wrist and pulled you along with them.
It wasn’t until Baela referred to him as ‘Cole’ did you register that this was the Targaryen butler. And you wouldn’t say it out loud but you did not blame Helaena’s mother if she was actually hooking up with him. Just saying. Apparently, Alicent ordered Cole to drive to the train station and pick you four up. Now, you don’t know if the speculations are true, but whatever kind of leash Alicent has around Cole’s neck, you might need.
The drive to the Targaryen summer home was captivating, especially since you had never been to Kings Landing before. You gazed out the window in awe, hardly paying attention to the conversations inside the car. The city was vibrant and bustling compared to your hometown. The streets were teeming with activity, the people seemed more alive, and the sun shone more brightly with a bluer sky. As the Targaryen summer home came into view, you felt certain that this summer was going to be the best three months of your life.
When the Targaryen girls mentioned their summer home, you expected something modest. Instead, the mansion before you was far beyond your expectations. Tall gates encircled the estate, with even grander gates marking the entrance. As Cole confirmed his identity, the gates swung open like doors, and as he drove inside, you felt like a child discovering a toy store.
In the front yard, a majestic water fountain stood with a dragon statue perched on top, adding to the surprise. The Targaryen girls had never hinted at their family's immense wealth, making this sight even more astonishing.
As Cole drove around the fountain, you spotted a woman with red hair in a green dress standing near the front doors, with guards positioned in front of them. Her face lit up with a warm smile as Helaena stepped out of the car, her arms outstretched, clearly eager to embrace her daughter.
“Oh, my sweet,” she said, her voice filled with emotion as she hugged Helaena longingly. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“I missed you too, Mum,” Helaena mumbled into her mother’s shoulder, clinging to her waist as if afraid to let go.
You were surprised by how young Helaena’s mother looked, especially for someone with three children (as far as you knew). There wasn’t a wrinkle in sight, and her skin was practically flawless. If you hadn’t known better, Alicent could easily pass as Helaena’s sister. You watched as the two embraced, completely absorbed in each other, as though no one else existed. Throughout the months away from home, Helaena often expressed how much she missed her mother. You knew how close they were. On some nights, Helaena would cry, longing for the comfort of her mum after a long, stressful day. It pained you that you couldn’t do anything to help, but seeing them reunited now eased some of the guilt you felt for those nights.
Alicent finally pulls back, her eyes scanning Helaena from head to toe. Then she immediately bombards her with questions: “How’s university treating you? Have you been eating well? Are you drinking enough water?” 
Helaena chuckled softly, reassuring her mother over and over that she was fine until Alicent was finally convinced. Alicent’s large brown eyes then shifted to you, acknowledging your presence for the first time. Sensing the moment, Helaena took the opportunity to introduce you to her mother.
“Hello, Mrs. Targaryen. Thank you for letting me into your home.” you say softly.
“No worries, my dear. I’m glad Helaena and her sweet cousins could make you feel comfortable,” Alicent replies with a warm smile. “And please, call me Alicent.”
You smile back at her. Acknowledging the Targaryen twins, she greets and hugs them warmly. You were initially concerned that she might not be so welcoming — after all, who wants their child’s friend staying for an entire summer? Thankfully, she was charming, and her demeanor quickly put you at ease.
Her attention then shifted to Cole, who stood by the car with his arms behind his back and his eyes fixed on the ground. The atmosphere grew tense, and because of this, you realized the girls’ speculation about the two of them wasn’t just speculation — it was true. The four of you felt awkward; Cole looked clearly intimidated by her gaze, while Alicent showed no sign of discomfort.
“Ser Criston,” she called. His head lifted immediately. “If you would grab everyone’s bags from the car and take them inside.”
Obediently, he opened the trunk and began unloading the luggage.
“Come,” Alicent said to you. “I’ll show you to your room.”
Helaena, Baela, and Rhaena went off to help Cole with the luggage, while you followed Alicent. When you and Alicent walked up the stairs to the entrance, the big doors creaked as the guards opened them. As you stepped through the grand entrance, you were immediately struck by its opulence. The walls were a rich, deep green, adding a touch of elegance to the expansive space. A grand spiral staircase ascended gracefully to the upper levels, its intricate ironwork gleaming in the sunlight. The light poured in from the tall, arched windows, casting a warm, inviting glow across the room. Below, the checkered black-and-white floors added a striking contrast and a sense of timeless charm. Each detail, from the sweeping staircase to the delicate vases on the mantelpieces, seemed to whisper stories of luxury and history. Overwhelmed by the sheer beauty and grandeur, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe, marveling at the lavish surroundings that seemed straight out of a fairy tale.
Before you could vocally express how beautiful the home was, Alicent surprised you by linking her arm with yours, holding on tightly. Although it startled you at first, it didn’t make you uncomfortable. In fact, it was quite touching how Alicent welcomed her guests with such open warmth, treating you as if you were one of her own.
“I’m sure Helaena’s mentioned her brother, Aemond?” Alicent asks as she guides you toward the stairs.
“Yes,” you reply, focusing on your feet to avoid tripping on the steps.
“Good,” she says, her initial tension easing into a more relaxed tone. “He’s a good kid. Quite quiet, which some people mistake for rudeness, but he doesn’t mean any harm. And, well, the scar can be a bit intimidating for some. I hope you understand.”
“I do,” you nod. “I’m not one to judge someone so quickly.”
“That’s great,” Alicent replies with a soft hum. “Your room is directly across from his, so I wouldn’t want you to feel any sort of discomfort during your stay here. The bathroom is also connected to both rooms, so you’ll be sharing that. I would have put you in another room, but they’re all taken since Rhaenyra, Helaena’s half-sister, and her sons will be arriving tomorrow.”
“I really don’t mind, Mrs. Targaryen,” you assure her. “I’m just grateful for your hospitality.”
The corners of Alicent’s lips curl into a grateful smile, appreciating your understanding. She leads you down the hall and opens the door to reveal your room. The space exudes a serene and inviting charm. Much like the foyer, the walls are painted the same shade of green. At the center of the room is a bed with crisp, plain white sheets, its simplicity adding a touch of understated elegance. The walls are adorned with a selection of paintings, each frame carefully chosen to complement the room’s color scheme and add visual interest. A bookshelf in one corner is decorated with faux vines that drape playfully over its edges, enhancing the room's cozy, natural feel. Next to the bookshelf, a plush reading chair invites relaxation, perfectly positioned for enjoying a good book. The polished wood floors gleam with a warm luster, reflecting the soft light and contributing to the room’s overall sense of calm and refinement. It felt surreal that you would be living here for a few months.
“Make yourself comfortable,” Alicent says. “I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”
You thank her again as she leaves, still processing the luxury of your surroundings. Helaena enters the room and notices the stunned look on your face.
“You alright?” she asks, a hint of amusement in her voice.
“When were you going to tell me how filthy rich your family is?” you exclaim, trying to wrap your head around the splendor of it all.
Helaena merely shrugs her shoulders, a nonchalant smile on her lips. “It never came up.”
You chuckle, shaking your head in disbelief. As you start unpacking and settling in, Helaena continues to chat casually, easing you into the rhythm of life at the mansion. Suddenly, the door across from yours opens, revealing a tall man. His short silver hair has a few strands falling across his forehead, and he’s dressed entirely in black — a black polo shirt, black slacks, and black dress shoes. You notice a long scar running from his forehead down to his cheek. One of his eyes is violet, while the other is blue, clearly a prosthetic replacing the eye his nephew had taken. This was the infamous Aemond everyone kept telling you about.
Helaena smiled warmly as she gestured toward her brother to come into the room. She introduced your name to him as Aemond glanced briefly in your direction, his violet eye meeting yours for a moment. You gave him a soft smile before he gave a slight nod. Without a word, he let out a noncommittal hum and turned, his black-clad figure moving with a casual grace as he walked down the hallway.
"Well," you say, "he's not one for conversation, is he?"
"He means no harm," Helaena replies. "He’s just a very reserved person. He’ll warm up to you once he gets to know you. Meet me downstairs once you’re done packing."
As she leaves, you take in the elegant surroundings of your new room, a sense of unease creeps in knowing that you and Aemond will be living in such close quarters. You’re determined to avoid any awkwardness between you, especially given the high stakes of this arrangement. Striving to maintain a cordial and comfortable atmosphere, you remind yourself to be friendly and open, hoping to navigate this delicate situation with grace. The last thing you want is for any tension to overshadow the peace of this lovely setting.
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The rest of the day passed quickly.
After finishing unpacking your clothes into the dresser, you went downstairs. The three Targaryen girls gave you a thorough tour of their home, and by the time you completed the tour, dinner was ready. The four of you, Alicent, and Aemond all gathered for the meal. Aegon had arrived the previous day but was out with friends for drinks, while their father, Viserys, was resting upstairs. You hadn’t met him yet, but Rhaena mentioned that he was much older than Alicent and wasn’t doing well health wise.
Dinner was pleasant. Alicent was lively, engaging in conversation with everyone, while Aemond remained quiet, seemingly content to linger in the background and enjoy the meal in silence. Still, you noticed him stealing glances at you, and once, when your eyes met, you expected him to look away. But he didn’t. His gaze held yours, steady and intense, until you, unnerved, were the one to break it.
After dinner, everyone retreated to their rooms. As you gathered clothes for a shower, you heard a door creak open behind you. Assuming it was one of the Targaryen girls, you didn’t turn around.
“I’m going to shower,” a soft, yet distinctly masculine voice spoke.
That's when you turned around, seeing Aemond standing in the doorway of your shared bathroom. The sound of his voice, so rarely heard in conversation, and his presence, caught you off guard.
“Oh—um, okay,” you stammered, trying to gather your thoughts. “I’ll just wait until you’re done.”
Aemond gave a small hum, much like the one he'd given earlier when Helaena introduced you, then quietly shut the door. Moments later, the sound of running water filled the silence, and you exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.
This summer was certainly going to be interesting.
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findmeinforks · 9 months
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Stay - Paul Lahote X Fem!Reader
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Happy 2024! I honestly didn't know what to call this, but I just kept writing and now I'll probably need a part 2 🙃 enjoy 💕 2.8K words
"You have no idea how excited I am. I mean just how long have I been begging you to come live with me?" Emily grinned into the phone that was tucked between her shoulder and ear. She paced the kitchen while whisking a bowl of brownie mix, mindlessly chatting away.
"I must warn you though that the house does get chaotic. But the boys are pretty good about keeping up after themselves," she said while swatting away Embry's hand that almost made a dip in the bowl. He put his hands up in self defense as she rolled her eyes.
"Sounds great. Sam will pick you up at the airport tomorrow at noon. Let me know if you need anything else, and have a safe flight. I love you!" She she set the bowl on the counter, hanging up the phone.
"Was that Y/N? She's moving in tomorrow?" Quil questioned from the table with a mouth full of chips.
"Yes, and I trust that you boys will be on your best behavior in welcoming her..." Emily raised her eyebrow as she pointed a dripping whisk of batter at all the men now surrounding the kitchen.
"Depends, is she hot?" Embry snickered as he sat down.
"Oh....she is." Quil emphasized with wide eyes.
"Get it Embry!" Paul snorted as he clapped him on the back, reaching over into Quil's bag of chips.
"They WILL be on their best behavior. And no one will be 'getting' shit." The booming voice of Sam emerged behind Emily, wrapping his arms around her torso.
He reached his head over her shoulder as she let him lick what was left on the whisk, earning a disgusted "Seriously?" from Quil.
"Hey, but what if she's my imprint??" Embry held his up his finger to argue.
"You know that would be a different story...but we know already she isn't Quil's" Sam smirked at the youngest pack members now disappointed face.
"You guys are kidding right? I've seen pictures. Shes insanely out of all your leagues." Jacob quipped as he strolled to the living room.
"Anything is better than my crushes newborn infant..." Embry muttered under his breath, making all the boys cower in laughter.
"Oh yeah? You wanna say that again?" Jacob challenged.
Sam walked around in between them, looking from side to side at them both.
"THIS is what Emily is talking about. Keep the fights outside boys. I mean it. Just because Y/N knows about the pack doesn't mean she won't get scared if you clowns nearly phase in the kitchen. Are we clear?"
The two reluctantly nodded, Jacob sulking away to the living room.
"But come on, that was kinda funny.." Embry whispered, making the other boys giggle.
Paul shook his head with a smile at his little brother, leaving the room to shower before dinner.
-
There was something about the conversation that stuck with Paul throughout the night. Since Sam had met Emily, all of his brothers wanted imprints. They all saw what it was like to have one up close, and craved it desperately. He grimaced at the thought. The idea of a "soulmate" sounded ridiculous to Paul.
The problem wasn't that he didn't believe in it. Anybody could see the intense love that imprints had for one another, their bond growing with them until old age.
But Paul was not familiar with the term love. He never did get to see the love between his father and mother. She had been his imprint, but passed long before Paul could remember much about her. He watched his father struggle emotionally, never being able to get through the grief of her loss. Sure, he raised Paul as best he could, but deep down it was his mother that would have filled the void in their quiet house.
Things did get a little brighter when Paul joined the pack. For the first time he truly felt like he was part of a real family. He came home to hot meals, genuine laughter, and lively conversation. Not only had he gained a group of brothers, but ones with unwavering loyalty. None of them ever strayed away when Paul lost control of his temper, and were the first ones to help him learn to control it.
Maybe that was the reason he never looked for anything serious when it came to women. What was the point? One little outburst and they were out the door quicker than they had come in. He didn't allow himself to feel anything for them, because they'd end up leaving, and he was saving himself the heart break anyways.
Paul lay awake that night certain about one thing, he didn't need an imprint.
-
You inhaled the crisp fall air. Smiling wide as you looked up the steps to the new home awaiting you, the patio adorned in different flowers and cutesy outdoor decor.
"Oh Em it's just how I remember. You always make it look so cozy," you said as you squeezed the arm of your cousin beside you.
She returned your same smile.
"You're too sweet. I just can't believe you're really here. Come on, I'll introduce you to the boys."
You followed her up the steps, walking through the door to the warm smell of baked goods, no doubt that Emily had been up all night. You chuckled to yourself as you remember how she would go overboard on food whenever she was excited about something and couldn't sleep.
What you weren't used to, however, was being greeted by the several shirtless men. All incredibly in shape with tattoos on their arms, you might have been intimidated if it weren't for their cheesy smiles.
Emily gestured to each of them,
"You remember Quil, and that's Embry, Jacob, Seth, andddd well," she looked around puzzled for a moment. "I guess I'll introduce you to Paul whenever he comes around."
You waved at Quil and shook the other's hands.
There must have been some sort of inside joke, because as you finished with introductions you saw Sam laugh while they collectively let out a small sigh.
You don't think you were meant to hear it, but you caught Sam whisper at Embry,
"Better luck next time kid."
Emily didn't make a big deal of whatever it was, guiding you to your room.
After you got settled in, you found yourself strolling the hallway, looking over all the framed pictures on the wall. You had been over the moon when Emily had found Sam. You've never seen her so happy before, and you could tell he looked at her in the exact same way.
Not paying attention when the bathroom door opened, you collided with a large bare chest that stepped into the hall.
You gasped as two strong arms to match caught you before you fell, luckily, and you embarrassingly faced the one man you of course had no former introduction with.
"I am so, so sorry. I-"
"No no it's fine, are you-"
Both of you started and stopped mid sentence. Your attention had been captured when you two locked eyes. It was like you had been anchored to the floor by them. This warm, fuzzy energy had your entire body buzzing. It was so silent that you could hear your own blood flow in your ears. You furrowed your eyebrows in the haze. What the hell...
"ARE YOU SHITTING ME??"
A loud voice cut through the trance and you flinched at the abrupt sound. The man held you slightly tighter for a moment, as if he was about to protect you from whatever had interrupted you both in this hypnotic state.
Turning around so you both could see that the voice had been Embry, the man looked back and quickly dropped his arms, as if he just realized he had been holding you that whole time.
An unfamiliar emptiness lingered when he let go. He quickly averted his gaze, mumbling another apology before brushing past you, into a room, shutting the door.
-
His imprint. Right there. In the hallway of his own home.
Paul couldn't breathe.
He sat on the edge of his bed, nervously running his hands through his hair in a panic.
You were beautiful.
Breathtaking.
Your smell was intoxicating and your skin was so, so very soft. Your voice sounded like an angel. Your hair-
No.
No, he couldn't let himself think like this. He didn't need an imprint. Didn't even want one in the first place.
Was this some kind of sick joke the universe was playing on him? This girl could have anyone she wants. Why him?
Emily's call for dinner had him taking deep breaths. He could do this. They could live amongst eachother and not have to talk. There's ton of people in this house, it would be rare that the two of them would ever be alone. Right? Right. He could do this.
He walked into the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face. Wake up. It's just some girl. No different than the many that he had been with. Hell, if he could have sex with someone and never think of them again, he could do it. They had barely exchanged a sentence. Barely touched. He would be fine.
-
You sat down at the table, trying to behave as normal as possible. What happened in the hall was nothing. Whiplash. Yes, it was probably the whiplash from running into him. The poor guy seemed shy, and he was most likely just as shook up as you. It was a small accident and nothing more. He certainly didn't seem angry or upset, just caught off guard.
But wow....was he handsome. Certainly more attractive than any lousy guy you'd ever been with. He had this aroma of sandalwood and forest that was enchanting.
Okay, slow down Y/N. Let's not walk in on the first day and jump on some guy. After all, you two are going to be living together. Maybe don't make him uncomfortable in his own home. You shook your head to yourself. Just forget about the whole thing and it will be fine.
Luckily, Emily had started conversations around the table, easily able to take your mind elsewhere.
That was, until he came in the room. There was a beat of silence when he entered, the other boys seeming to look at him like they were anticipating something. When he didn't make a sound or even look up to anyone, slumping at the table and taking a plate, the conversations arose again.
Dinner was excellent as usual for Emily's cooking, and besides your beating heart constantly begging you to look at the man near the end of the table, it was almost normal.
It was when Emily put delicious brownies on the table, that it took a turn for the worse.
"I'M NOT GOING TO TELL YOU AGAIN. SHUT THE FUCK ALONE ABOUT IT" Everyone's head turned to the angry voice. It was him. He was so visibly upset that he was shaking, staring daggers at Embry beside him. Slamming his fists on the table as he stood up, you let an audible gasp slip.
That's when he looked at you for the second time that night. It was a far reach, but somehow you saw his eyes soften. The crinkles of anger in his eyebrows vanished, and he swallowed, before bolting out the door. Sam immediately followed, and Emily sighed, reaching out to touch your arm.
"I'm sorry about Paul. He's very.....expressive sometimes."
Paul.
-
"Leave me alone Sam."
Paul sighed through the mind link, his large wolf racing through the trees.
He didn't mean it. He never means it. But Embry would simply not stop talking. First it was meaningless. He asked what imprinting felt like. Paul had shrugged it off as nothing crazy, hoping he'd drop it there. Then, he had asked him if he planned on pursuing the imprint. Of course he told him he wasn't. He didn't need a soulmate. No matter what his instincts told him. But then, Embry had smiled and thanked him, telling him that you were now "fair game".
That had been when he lost it.
He stopped on the edge of a cliff, breathing in the fresh water air. Sam slowly approached his side.
"Embry only said that to get a rise out of you, you know."
Paul scoffed.
"He can do whatever he wants. I don't care about her."
"Oh you don't?" Sam didn't sound so convinced.
"Even if I did, she wouldn't want me. Did you....did you see the look on her face when I yelled?" Paul replayed it over and over. You had looked absolutely frightened.
"There is a reason she was chosen to be your imprint Paul. You don't know Y/N. She is patient, and most of all understanding. If you talked to her-"
"I don't need to talk to her. I am perfectly fine alone. I don't need a woman, and I definitely don't need an imprint."
Sam sighed.
"Paul. You can do what you want. I'm not the type of alpha to force you to love someone. But believe me when I say that I had a dark past. I was also comfortable with being alone. Emily is the best thing that could have ever happened to me. Having a conversation with her doesn't mean there will be wedding bells tomorrow. All I'm saying is you don't know unless you try."
Paul nodded, and Sam left him with his thoughts.
-
You stared at the numbers on your phone screen. 2:00am. You huffed in frustration. Your mind had been a constant replay of the events today, your mind spiraling. You had settled on the fact things around here were weird, when you had visited Emily and accidentally caught sight of Sam in wolf form. But this energy couldn't have anything to do with that. Could it?
You decided to make yourself some tea to try and relax. Knowing Emily you knew there had to be some in the kitchen. You tip toed in the dark, your body stiffening as you recognized a familiar muscular back that sat at the kitchen table in a dim light.
You were ready to retreat back to your room when he turned his head around to look at you.
Damn, wolves must have good hearing.
"I was just....going to make some tea.." you pointed to the cabinet awkwardly.
He nodded, looking back down at what appeared to be a cup of coffee.
He couldn't sleep either?
You mindlessly tapped your fingers against the counter as you awaited the kettle, praying that if you stared at it long enough, it would speed up the process.
-
Fuck, was this torture. You were like a goddess, standing there in your pajamas, hair astray and up in a haphazard bun. He imagined walking up behind you, wrapping his arms around you, soaking in your warmth while he pressed gentle kisses on your neck. He wondered what it sounded like to hear you laugh...
STOP STARING. Say something. Anything. Just. Try.
He cleared his throat. It must have startled you because you quickly turned to face him.
"I'm...sorry. About what you saw earlier. That's not like me. I-Embry, he can get under my skin sometimes," he rubbed the back of his head.
"But that's no excuse. I'm-um, Im Paul, by the way."
He lifted his hand up in an almost wave. Why was he so awkward? He was never this way with women.
You giggled, and suddenly, he felt like he was in heaven.
"Y/N. And no worries at all, Emily said you can be....'expressive' sometimes."
He chuckled.
"That's one word for it. But I just don't want to scare you off..."
"Well. I think if knowing that you can all turn into a large creatures who can rip me apart and that doesn't scare me away, I think you were okay." You smiled. He could look at that smile forever.
-
He was actually talking to you. Man, was his laugh so perfect. You could talk with him forever.
The kettle screeched, and you reluctantly made your tea.
"Well....I guess I'll see you around, Paul." You took your mug and headed for your room.
-
His name on her tongue. He wanted her to say it again.
"You can stay. If-if you want. I, uh, I don't...know much about you."
You smiled.
"I'd like that."
To be continued......
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natalievoncatte · 6 months
Text
Lena squared herself up after she stepped from the elevator.
This has taken considerable work. She’d had to arrange for her absence from boarding school to go unnoticed, or at least, unremarked upon. If Lillian got wind of her running away, she’d have been skinned alive. Perhaps literally. Since her adoptive father’s death, she’d actually looked forward to school, and to being away from Lillian’s abuse. Lex was now the only thing keeping her from Lena, and Lex was preoccupied with his project.
Her brother had been away for school for some time, but they had summers off together at least. When Lex took over the company when he turned 21, he grew distant and aloof, spending more time with his friend Clark or at work than with family.
With his absence came Lillian.
Still, she had managed to build a support network. Frank, her bodyguard-slash-driver was Lex’s man, but he was useful. Lena had spent months buttering him up to participate in her plan: she needed wheels.
In the meantime she’d acquired blackmail material. The head master at the school gave her a broad latitude after she implied that she might expose certain proclivities of his. That gave her the time away she needed. She’d carefully negotiated a higher allowance from Lex in exchange for accelerating her studies in anticipation of beginning her undergraduate studies at sixteen, which was a triviality for her anyway.
Lena walked down the hall, heart pounding against the backpack clutched to her chest. Each step felt heavy, alive with portent.
She could turn back now. She could turn her back now.
What if she was wrong? Paranoid, addled, as crazy as her mother, just like Lillian said? What if she was about to not only blow up her whole life, but slander her brother. If this went sideways, she didn’t know what exactly would happened to her, but Lillian had once, while tipsy on whisky from Lionel’s stash, told Lena that if not for Lex, she’d have Lena garroted with piano wire and buried on the estate, and like any bag of trash, no one would notice she’d been disposed of.
When she told Lex, her hands shook like leaves. He looked at her for a long cold moment and she worried that he’d slap her or scream or throw her out of the house, but he simply said, “I’ll talk to her about it.”
He did. She never made another threat.
He also brought her a wooden box, ornate and polished. Lex sat next to Lena and opened the box, showing her the contents, lying on red velvet. A five shot snub nose revolver and two speedloaders.
“I’ll teach you how to use this,” Lex said, grimly. “I know you’re smart enough to know if you need to. If anyone tries to harm you, kill them. I’ll clean it up.”
Lena had been terrified of it for months, even as she enjoyed the shooting lessons from Lex, given in a remote part of the estate near a burbling creek, the shots cracking the morning peace and shaking dew from leaves.
She had the gun in her backpack, and her hands were shaking.
The other contents of her bag were a weapon far more devastating. She was about to fire it and she’d have to accept the consequences.
Finally, she stood outside the door. Apartment 18B. The name on the lease was Lois Lane, but according to Lena’s reconnaissance, Clark Kent had been living with her virtually full time for the last six months, not long after something changed in his relationship with Lena’s brother.
Lena’s hand hung before the door for a good minute before she knocked, weekly. She hadn’t considered what might happen if they were simply not home. Her legs felt watery and her eyes burned. She knocked again. She was committed now.
The door swung open and Lois Lane stood before her. She was beautiful in an understated way, obscured by limp hair in a chaotic bun, rumpled clothes, and the stink of coffee on her breath.
“Who- what? Kid, what do you want?”
“I need to see Clark Kent. Is he here?”
“Who’s asking?”
“Lena Luthor.”
There was a gust of wind behind her, and Kent stepped into view.
“Lena?” said Clark. “Lex’s little sister? What are you doing here?”
Lena’s throat went tight. She swallowed hard, and as she anticipated, his demeanor changed. He softened. He craned forward slightly, studying her intently, and his brows shot up when looked at her bag.
He was checking her vital signs and he’d spotted the gun. In the bag.
“He knows you’re Superman,” Lena choked out, “and he’s going to kill you.”
Lois glanced at Clark with a stunned, stunned wide expression. Then, she grabbed Lena and yanked her inside, slamming the door. Lena squeaked.
“How do you know that? Lex knows? Did he tell you? What do you mean he wants to kill Clark?”
“Hey,” Clark said, crouching beside Lena to bring himself to her level, resting a comforting hand on her slight shoulder. “Take a breath, Lena. You’re safe here.”
In Lena’s plan, she was going to begin explaining, starting with how she deduced his identity and lay out what she discovered in his files. That was her plan, but no plan survived first contact with the enemy.
Lena began to sob.
Superman knelt beside her and removed his glasses, and enveloped Lena Luthor in a warm, protective hug. She sobbed harder, burying her face in his shoulder.
“Jesus Christ,” Lois whispered.
She drew the gun out of the bag and checked it with professional, practiced familiarity, dumping the shells into her hand.
“I think she’s telling the truth.”
Clark nodded.
Over the next hour, Lena was swept to Lois’s big couch and sat in the middle while the pair sat on either side of her. When she was hungry, Clark went out to get her favorite guilty pleasure meal, a big greasy burger and fries, and a milkshake too. Between bites, she explained everything, telling them about her brother’s insane plan to turn the sun red.
They believed it all. Lena had receipts.
Eventually, Lena was exhausted, everything had been said, and she sat with dull shock on the couch and stared at the black mirror of a blank television set, marveling at how small and helpless she looked, like a drowned rat.
“Why don’t you lay down for a while?” Lois said, gently. “Here, I’ll put something on the TV for you.”
Lena didn’t make it ten minutes in before she was asleep, curled tightly on one end of the couch with a pillow under her head.
She woke sometime later. It was dark now and she heard voices on the far side of the apartment.
“I called Bruce. He said he’s in, and he’s bringing reinforcements. I’m going to try to get a Green Lantern on board. We have to move fast. Nevermind me, if Lex does this, millions of innocent people will die. We’ll have to move fast.”
“What about the girl?” said Lois. “She can’t go home now. We have to get her somewhere safe.”
“I have to get you both somewhere safe. I should probably come up with a reason to get the building evacuated. One Lex realizes he’s been caught out, he’ll come after both of you.”
“You’re right.”
“I want you to go out,” said Clark. “Make it look like you’re heading out to a convenience store. Bruce is sending Alfred to pick you up, he should be here in an hour. I have somewhere else in mind for Lena.”
“Where?”
“It’s better if I don’t tell you, just in case.”
When he emerged from the back bedroom, Clark Kent was resplendent, clothed in the persona of Superman.
“Lena?” he said, gently. “We have to go. I’ll take you somewhere safe, where your brother won’t find you.”
Lois joined him. “You’re going to put on some of my clothes, and I’m going to check your hair. You can’t take anything with you. Lex Luthor might have been tracking you the entire time.”
Lena’s stomach dropped. What if she was right? That might be a move Lex would play, tracking Lena so that he could use her against his enemy. Lex had become cold, single minded. Lena was wondering how long it would be until she was disposable.
“Okay,” said Lena.
“I’m going to have to fly you.”
Lena did as she was told. She put on an outfit that belonged to Lois, a hilariously oversized Gotham U sweatshirt and leggings. When it was time, Superman bundled her up in his cape.
“I’m scared of heights.”
“I would never drop you,” he said.
Lena screamed when he took off. She was glad for the cape, glad she couldn’t see the ground. She curled up around him and pressed her eyes tightly closed, wondering exactly how fast they were going.
The landing came surprisingly fast. He’d alighted on the grassy lawn of a lovely beach house. Lena smelled something baking and heard voices inside. Clark knocked on the door.
A girl, a little older than Lena, opened the door. Golden curls spilled over her muscular shoulders, and she wore an oversized pair of glasses that did nothing to dull the endless depths of her blue eyes. There was something profoundly sad behind the curiosity in those eyes. She looked at Lena with mild confusion.
Lena stared back. There was a wild stirring in her stomach, and she shifted uneasily on her feet.
Then, the girl addressed Clark in a rapid, clipped, and utterly strange sounding language.
It hit Lena like a shockwave.
They were speaking Kryptonian.
“Lena,” said Superman, turning to her. “This is Kara Zor-El, my cousin. The last daughter of Krypton.”
1K notes · View notes
flamingpudding · 5 months
Note
I had a crack idea that I was thinking of so you know in Dan is Klarion au I was imagining a au based off of that one where all of Danny's children are Klarion is like the robin thing for Batman it started off with Danielle when nabu insulted Danny as the Ghost King and Balance
Ever since Ellie decided that she needed to get back in blood so she made the chaotic antihero Klarion and and her suppose it familiar 'cat' Teekl the way to help out her mother and mess with Dr Fate/Nabu Teekl is actually a bear with an illusion on that makes him look like a cat in the human's eyes
Whatever since the anti-hero Klarion in The Phantom family has been passed down each of them giving their own flair to the persona of Klarion with a different animal every time that they had pretending to be a cat
Tell her to finally passed on to Dan it is an honorary sibling thing each of them has their own antihero name once they passed down the title of Klarion
Diana's query and takes after his father's style of dressing and his tickle is a phoenix
First of Thanks for the Ask! Inspirational as always! Helps with my writers block [insert awkward laugh]
Either way because this is split in two asks... you get two version! One focused on how it started and the other on the reveal! Though the might be some little Shorts... Also there is something really funny to me about a giant bear letting Illusionen into a cat... So Enjoy!
(BTW still thinking over the other ask... and working on it don't worry!)
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Ellie huffed as Danny reprimanded her for her actions. She just huffed crossing her arms. She was just helping Danny. Her mom got a lot on his shoulders and she as the sort of oldest saw that the best. Sure technically Dan was older then her but, he shrunk down to kid level again and now she was the oldest.
Well if she ignored her other brothers but they were only saved recently and still in treatment with Frostbite. So she was the oldest. End of story.
"Ellie you can't just go off like that you know that messing with an Ancient is not-"
"Mom, That Nabu-Guy was being a pain in the a- " - "Ellie!" - "A PAIN, babbling on to much about Order here Order there. How keeping Balance means keeping Order and bla bla bla!" She cut in stopping her mom before he could go on another rant about the Ancients, she needed to treat with respect.
"He doesn't respect you, the Ancient of Balance! You are the literal Symbol of Balance between Life and Death! Aside from being the Ghost King. So of course I had to mess with the one HE mentors!" Ellie added huffing as she crossed her arms.
Danny pinched the bridge of his nose. "Ellie, you created an entire alternate persona!"
"Yea so?"
"You used an illusion spell on Fluffels!"
"And? Any good Anit-Hero needs a Mascot." Ellie shrugged once more looking up at her mom before looking over to Fluffels, her pet ghost grizzly that was pretty much double maybe even tripple her size and the fluffiest ghost grizzly you could find in the entire Ghost Zone, and the cutest.
Danny on the other hand groaned, wondering if he had done anything wrong while raising Danielle. Sure he had been a teen himself but good damit why the hell did Ellie decided messing with the Ancient of Order or rather his mentee was a good idea. "I am calling Jazz! You can explain to her what you were thinking!"
He was definitely to overworked and stressed to deal with Ellies mischievousness right now. Well she did call her alternate persona Klarion, Lord of Chaos. Nope! He was not dealing with this right now, so Danny did the sanest thing he could think of. Turning on his heel and walking away. Where to? Who cares maybe he would check in with his old man Clockwork and see what Ellie had actually been up to, instead of just reading through Nabu's complains.
Ellie on the other hand blinked watching her mom leave before calling after him. "Does that mean I have to stop, being Klarion?"
"Mom?!"
"MOM!"
------------------
"Well hello my lovely Amadillos! Long time not seen!"
Ellie shouted cheerfully as she twirled into appearing hair styled into a horn like form, black suit and she might have over done it a little with the black eyeliner but hey it was an iconic look wasn't it. She smirked as Fluffles growled which translated into a meow for the mortals before her thank to the illusion spell.
The mortal teen looked up at her surprised as she floated down her hand glowing with red ectoplasm (a color change from her usual green ectoplasm that had taken a while to learn from Pandora). Young Justice was currently transporting something of interest to her. Well of Interest for the Justice League, really but Doctor Fate was involved which meant Nabu was involved, which naturally meant she would get involved. It didn't hurt that she would also get to try to try some new tricks.
"You got something interesting there... and I want that." She grinned. Ellie didn't give them long before she acted using the new tricks she had learned.
"Woah! Hey there, watch the pointy and sharp thowies!" She laughed making a quick shield as she blocked some batarangs and arrows before blinking.
"Hey they look different. Robin, did you change equipment? Did you get a new haircut too?" She asked curious but didn't really receive an answer as they ignored her questions and shouted something about distracting her while the others continue the transportation. Still she bend down to pick one of them up twirling it between her fingers. "What gives didn't they have a different design before?"
In hindsight it was probably not a good idea to just abandon her original goal but Robin was making her curious. And she could always find a different way to mess with Nabu. Her mom had given her an indirect okay years ago anyway.
"Teekl!" She called out and only her eyes could see how Fluffles jumped at the call growling in response as he swatted away some of the more annoying Young Justice kids. To the mortals it probably looked like Teekl was using ectoplasm, or well magic, in their eyes.
She used that change to go up into Robins face smirking widely as she looked at the other more closely, trying to get a read on him. "You are different! You aren't the same Robin I meet before!"
She ducked in time avoid Superboy as she hopped back excited with a new idea for her family.
But first she would have to deal with the little chaos and mischief she was creating.
------------------
".....and that is how I learned that the Robin title is getting passed down. So I was thinking of doing the same!" Ellie broadly stated looking at all her younger siblings before her. "We all get pretty annoyed with the way Nabu treats Mom so there always has to be a Lord of Chaos to 'balance' Nabu out!"
She grinned at her siblings expecting the same kind of excitement she had and they didn't disappoint. Danny had been there for all of them, even going so far as in to find a way with Clockwork to save some of their lives. So of course they all would jump at the change to mess with the one Ancient that was badmouthing their Mother just because Balance didn't entitle Order the way they wanted.
After all Chaos was needed to Balance Order out.
This was going to be fun...
[Follow up part Linked here]
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leascorner · 6 months
Text
j.s. | Welcome home
Summary: After a mission, Jake gets some well deserved break at home. However the week might not turn out how he had planned.
Pairing:  Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x childhood bff!f!reader
Warnings: Angst, mention of death and near death experience, mention of break-up, probably inexact american army facts, ever most likely inexact description of Texas, mention of food, two idiots in love, happy ending
Word Count: 9.2k
A/N: I've said it before, I will say it again. The only trope that I can write/read about Jake is a childhood/best friends to lovers, don't fight me. I also see Jake as an older brother to two half-sisters his mother had with a very good man, after his father abandonned them. This is my canon.
Anyway, this is way too long and way too chaotic but I just couldn't stop writting so enjoy!
Masterlist
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Y/N was literally hopping up and down with impatience - or perhaps was it the three cups of coffees she had drunk to be able to keep up with the 2-hour-long drive to the airport in the middle of the night. She was standing on the arrival floors, on her tiptoes, trying to locate the person she was picking up. The flow of travellers coming through the arrival doors was continuous, so many blond heads coming through and none of them was his.
Her childhood best friend’s flight had landed a dozen of minutes prior; 3:28 a.m. was the time she received a “be right there, see you soon” text. Ever since then, the seconds had been going past very - very - slowly and with every second passing, Y/N chest had got narrower from anticipation to the point she felt like she couldn’t breathe. It hadn’t been more than a year and a half now that they had seen each other in the flesh. Of course, there were the texts, the emails and the FaceTime calls, but it was never the same.
“Jake!”
The sea of people in front of them seemed to split in half to let them collide in one another. The said Jake let his bag fall to his feet to catch a flying Y/N, lifting her from the ground as if she weighted nothing. Her hands found the back of his neck and her head found the crook of his neck, reuniting their bodies as if they were only one mind.
“Hey sweetheart,” he sniffed her hair, intoxicating himself from her perfume.
Jake let her down reluctantly when he realized they were in the way of other people reunions. After swinging his bag over his shoulder and dragging her near a row of seats, he finally took a good look at her, dark circles under puffy red eyes and hair all other the place. He dried her tears softly and kissed the top of her head, something he was sure he hadn’t done since they were in high school and that fucker of Chad had broken up her heart - thinking of it now, it seemed like it was a lifetime away. However, he knew that in this moment there was no sadness in her tears. She was crying probably a little happiness to seeing him again, but most certainly a lot of relief to have him alive in front of her.
He took another step back to have an even greater look at her. Y/N was exactly how he last saw her one year or so ago, and exactly how she looked like even all the other times he had to leave. She did not seem to age, and he was sure that the fine smile lines she was now wearing had always been there. It brought comfort to his heart to know that whatever would happen, she would always be waiting for him. He knew it was also selfish, but he had made peace with those thoughts a long time ago. These were moments that he was collecting in his mind for when he was somewhere overseas, fighting for his life.
“My my, did you grow up a few inches?”
“Oh, shut up!” Y/N laughed and tried to nudge him in the ribs. Jake easily grabbed her right elbow to bring her closer in another embrace, so very glad to be home, even only for a little while.
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Ventilation was swinging litters of hot air into the car's cabin as it was a rather chilly night for October in Texas. The full moon was lighting up all the roads in front of them, just as if it was making sure they would get home safely.
During the drive, the main discussion turned around how excited everyone would be to have him there. Y/N and her parents were the only ones to know about Jake’s surprise visit; they had only known for about three days before his flight landed that he unexpectedly got a week of leave. They would surprise his family later that day for lunch - only after they both had a rather long nap to make up for the sleepless night.
Jake had seen his family a couple more times than Y/N this past year and a half. Even if he considered Y/N to be family, this wasn’t exactly the rule of the administration. Blood family had some more privileges, like sometimes visiting for the holidays. His mother and one of his little sisters also visited him in Singapore when he was stationed there for an exercise in the Taiwan Strait; they had booked a vacation to be able to see him there. Y/N, at that time, had been unavailable - she had her own life after all.
It was what Jake found the more difficult; to keep up with her life. Most of her friends were common friends from high school. With her going to a different university and later with her different jobs, some of her friends were total strangers to him. However, they all seemed to come and go into her life, leaving more or less damage.
“I am sorry about you and Nick.”
Y/N finished getting back to the right line of the highway and removing the blinker, before glancing quickly in Jake’s direction. He was looking at her, with an expression she couldn’t quite read, but that she understood as some kind of gladness. She sighed while turning her focus back on the road.
“You can lie better than that, Jake.”
“Well, didn’t like the guy so…”
It had been a couple of months now than her longtime boyfriend Nick and she had broken up. What confused Jake the most was how this was not a topic for discussion. She hadn’t called crying; she did not seem to be angry. She just announced it to him like it was nothing and directly switched subject. He hadn’t found a way to bring it back on the table, so he asked their friends and family. They all had the same answer; she was doing fine. She seemed to have continued her life just like nothing had happened.
“Was it him-”
“It was me,” Y/N cut him off quickly abruptly, leaving Jake with an uneasy feeling. She sighed again, probably realizing how harsh her tone had been. “This wasn’t working out anyway.”
Though she could not see him, Jake nodded back acknowledging her response. He still felt like there were more to it, but he understood that now wasn’t the time to discuss it. Ever since they had known each other - and it went back to kindergarten, they hadn’t had many secrets for one another. And if they had, it was never anything major.
So, he shook off this feeling and gently grabbed her hand resting on the gearshift to squeeze it softly.
“I do am sorry, though.”
“I know.”
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It was nearly six in the morning when Y/N pulled up in her parents’ driveway.
The porch light was on, welcoming them, making sure Jake knew he was expected, and it made him smile fondly. It still felt surreal somehow; after everything, he was home. Getting out of the car, he breathed the fresh air of Texas like he hadn’t breathed in years.
Y/N was already opening her trunk, getting out a duffel bag that seemed to contain some clothes for today. Jake jogged toward her before she was able to get his own khaki bag out. She rolled her eyes, smiling, when he gently slapped her hands away to take care of it.
“Mom set up a spare bed in my room,” Y/N informed him while walking to the front door. “Just like the old days.”
And nothing in the house had changed either.
The hallway was still a drive along memories with all sorts of pictures hanged upon the wall. Y/N’s parents wedding portrait. Y/N’s baby pictures. Y/N on the day of the start of her first kindergarten year - just before they met each other. A couple more of first day of school pictures - this time with him in it as well. A couple of family vacation pictures. And along with them, a couple of pictures of events he wasn’t even there to attend. Y/N’s university graduation, her parents’ thirty-year anniversary celebration party, her first promotion celebration dinner…
The kitchen was still on the right, the living room on the left and straight ahead the stairs to the bedrooms. Y/N’s bedroom still had Justin Timberlake poster hung up on the walls along with some pictures of friends and family. The teddy bear he won for her at the funfair when they were not even ten stood on her bed. Jake swore that if he opened the dresser, he would still find the shelf that was for his stuff back then.
Without many words, both of them got ready for bed. Y/N took the en-suite bathroom first and when Jake got back in his sweatpants, she was already in bed, cuddling Mister B the teddy bear. His chuckle made her look up to him with sleepy eyes and quickly look away when she realized he didn’t wear a shirt. He kissed her on her forehead before tugging her more tightly in her sheets and turning off the bedside lamp.
“Do you remember when I couldn’t sleep unless someone was holding my hand?”
Jake only hummed in answer, and even in the darkness of her room, his hand found hers instinctively. Their fingers intertwining immediately, he did just as he had promised when he was only just a kid; he never let it go.
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“Son,” Y/N’s father spoke from the other side of the kitchen, “don’t worry about it.”
Jake shook his head, smiling, before proceeding with what he was already doing: loading the cup he had used to drink coffee in the dishwasher. Ever since he had been up earlier that morning, Y/N’s parents had pampered him with all their attention while also being busy preparing lunch. Every time he asked if they needed help, they would assure him he just needed to stay put in his seat.
It had always been like this, for as long as he had remembered. Whenever he had gone over when Y/N and he were still in middle school, her parents had always taken good care of him, making sure the crust of his PB&J sandwiches were cut off, putting on his favourite beddings when they were having a sleepover, drying his clothes in the air dryer when they came home soaking wet from the park. He felt loved in a different way than he did at home, where he had a hard time adjusting to his new family dynamics with his two younger step-sitters. Growing up, they continued on listening to him and caring for him. Y/N’s father was the one he went to for advice before he enrolled. Ever since, and with the little time he had with them every time he came home, it still hit him in the face how much they loved him like he was their own son.
“Do you need help with anything?” He asked once more.
This time, they did not have time to answer. Y/N appeared on the doorstep, changed out of her pyjamas, hair still wet. “The shower is all yours, Jake.”
She watched him go as if she had to make sure he remembered the way to her room. She hadn’t really realized yet that he was really here, with them, and feared that he would just disappear at any minute or that she would just wake up from whatever dream she was having. Somehow this also seemed to be all too familiar, like a play they had rehearsed a hundred time before. It broke her heart a little to know this was most likely not going to happen again before a very long time, that it could actually never happen again.
Y/N got this thought out of her head as soon as it came. She didn’t need to think about this. Not now. Not ever. She just needed to enjoy whatever time she had with him at home.
“He looks good,” her mum stated once Jake had made it to the top of the stairs.
“Yeah, he does,” Y/N spoke softly, eyes lingering to where Jake had been only a couple of seconds before, suddenly wondering if he was really as good as they thought.
When Jake got back to the kitchen the entrance clock had just struck eleven. Only sixty minutes until he would be reunited with his family. It never felt more real, but he couldn’t quite realize it. He was so used of being far away from them, totally disconnected from their realities, hearing their news after everyone else. Yet, he had always found them as he had left them, eyes watering to see him home or gone.
He joined Y/N on the vegetable preparation. Washing, peeling, cutting kept him busy while the anticipation started to build up. All while Y/N’s father asked him about what new manoeuvres he had learned. Being an aviator himself, they could talk about flying for hours to Y/N’s greatest damn; she had the biggest fear of flying - and perhaps the fact that Jake nearly crashed them while flying an old aircraft he had restored with her father when they were teenagers had something to do with it.
“These boys,” Y/N’s mother sighed playfully as Jake and Y/F/N were debating whatever solar planes were the future of aviation. Y/N smiled as she shared a knowing look with her mother, who was getting ready to lay the table in the dining room.
“Mom, hold on,” Y/N called before reaching inside the cupboard next to her, “you are missing a plate.”
“Why? Is Mark coming after all?”
Y/M/N’s face went white in only a second as she realized what she had just said. Not knowing what to do else, Y/N handed her the white plate. Looking sideways to Jake, she hoped he hadn’t heard - she didn’t want him to find out like this, when his whole family was going to be here in the next thirty minutes.
It was already too late though; Jake’s attention had of course switched to their awkward interaction. Her father was quick to step in, wiping his hands on a cloth and moving towards his wife.
“Of course he is, darling. Let me help you bring those into the dining room.”
Y/N watched them disappear before quickly turning back to the carrots she was now cutting in a Julienne, praying Jake would just drop the subject. Ever since she had learned that Jake was having a leave, she had planned their reunion to be perfect. She had purposely lied to his family, pretending to have a very big news to share with them so they all agreed to gather even if the atmosphere was not good. She had made them promise to bury the hatchet, for “her” and most absolutely for Jack. Whatever touchy topics they would have to talk about, they could do it after.
“Why wouldn’t he come?” Jake still asked and, at that moment, she knew that whatever she would tell him would never be sufficient to not draw his suspicion any further. She couldn’t lie to him even if she tried.
“Just been busing with work lately, you know how it is.”
Without letting him time to ask more questions, Y/N went for the stoves to make sure the sauce was still reducing as it should have. She could feel Jake’s eyes burning holes on her back and could only hope he would drop the subject.
“Jake, son,” Y/F/N had just gotten back from the dining room, “would you mind giving me a hand with the roast?”
After taking a last look at Y/N, still very focused on stirring the sauce, Jake turned to her father. It wasn’t until she didn’t feel his eyes on her that she turned to look at him. She watched as her father made him took out the turkey so he could put some more butter on it. Out of the corner of his eye his father gives him a reassuring wink signalling her he had got this.
The bell rang at the exact same moment Y/N put the last plate of hors d’oeuvres at the centre of the table. Shooting a look across the piece, she saw her father squeezing Jake’s shoulder in what seemed to comfort him. She smiled shyly, trying to hide her own nervousness. Thanks to her father, Jake had nearly forgotten about the earlier incident about Mark and the reason he wouldn’t have been able to make it. He hadn’t asked any other questions, and they hadn’t given away other secrets. All was well in the best of all words, or so she still tried to convince herself. It was all that mattered.
“Just like we said, you both stay here, and we’ll bring them for you.”
Y/N watched as her parents disappeared in the hall. She turned to Jake who she now realized he was close at her side - she knew from the way his lips were set in a tight smile that he was somehow nervous. When noises started coming from the hall, Y/N grabbed Jake’s hand without thinking. She needed him to know she was there, that she would always be there, just like they promised when they were younger. It would take much more than a thousand of miles and a few hiccups to take them apart. As if he was thinking the exact same thing, Jake squeezed her hand back.
Jake’s step-dad was the first to enter the dining room. Y/N saw his eyes go from herself to Jake right next to her side, his eyes lighting up in realization. Yet, he didn’t say anything, holding a finger to his lips to let them know he would stay silent while moving further into the room as if nothing had happened. He and Jake had never been particularly close; he was a good man, a good husband, and a good father to his daughters, but Jake’s fatherly figure had always been Y/N’s father.
Next to enter the room was Jake’s youngest step-sister, Sophia. She immediately spotted him, letting out a cry and running into his arms. He crushed his sister in one of those same hugs he gave Y/N when she picked him up from the airport. It warmed her heart to see them like that. Sophia was still very young when Jake had enrolled; she was only just a kid and had grown up with the lack of his older brother. She was looking up to him so much that Y/N had sometimes to remind her that he didn’t have only qualities. He was her hero in so many ways…
Sophia’s reaction got the rest of the family - his mother, Olivia, his other step-sister, and his step-brother, Mark - in the dining room quite quickly. There were a lot of “Jake!” shouted from across the room and loads of tears, happy smiles, and hugs.
“I can’t believe he is here.” Sophia cried again; this time she was in Y/N’s arms. “And I can’t believe you lied to us.”
“Sorry not sorry,” Y/N smiled, tugging a string of her hair behind her ears before bringing her in an even closer hug if it was possible. She wasn’t sure she had seen her this happy in her life, she realized.
Y/N was an only child with a very little family. Over the years, Jake’s family had grown to be her own as well. As children first, as they were always all together at either one’s house or the others. As teenagers when his step-sisters weren’t babies anymore and they had started to be able to play more with them. She remembered helping his mom getting both of his sisters ready for school, all of them celebrating Christmas at her parents or going dress shopping for Olivia’s first prom.
Ever since Jake had been deployed on the West Coast and later overseas, they had grown even closer. There were brunches on Sundays, just the three of them, where Sophia would file them up on her latest dating adventures. There were lunches at Olivia’s office after they had taken a midday yoga class. There were breakfasts with Sophia before her classes began. Y/N had always made sure they were alright, as if she had to do it for Jake.
So far, the lunch had turned out great.
Jake had told them all about his last position and this group of pilots he had been joining overseas. Everyone had started feeding him bits and pieces of what had occurred ever since the last time he’s been home. Olivia and Mark had managed not to fight, which was a miracle in itself, per Y/N’s opinion. Jake’s mom had finally stopped crying. And Sophia seemed to have forgotten about those hard choices she would have to make once she graduated from college at the end of the year.
At least, that was the case until Jake asked about it.
“So, any thoughts yet about what you’ll do next year?”
“No, not really.”
Y/N had already seen that look on Sophia’s face. It was the same one she made when she was hesitating between an avocado toast and pancakes at the place they were used to going to brunch; every time she had been making this face, she had ended up with ordering both. Sophia eyed her tentatively and Y/N immediately shook her head no, silently pleading her not to do whatever she was thinking.
Today was not the day. Jake had only gotten back from abroad hours ago, they would have enough time to discuss it in the next couple of days.
“I am thinking of enrolling,” Sophia stated abruptly.
Boom.
The bomb had landed.
Y/N sighed, mentally cursing Sophia for needing whatever validation from him. They all had talked about this extensively for months on now. Decide to enrol was one thing, accept that one of your relative would do the same was another. She knew how Jake was; he didn’t look like it at first sight, but his family was his everything. He had made the selfish decision that could result in them losing him forever, yet he wouldn’t accept that she’d do the same.
From the deathly silence that came after Sophia’s statement, Y/N rested the cutlery on the side of her plate, bracing herself for whatever had to come. Her attitude made Jake immediately turned to her. She had never seen the wrinkle between his eyebrows this deep before. She didn’t know if it was from dread, disappointment, or anger.
“You knew?”
Jaw tight, Y/N didn’t answer, and Jake huffed - of course, she knew. How could she not? She was here, with his own family, when he was thousands of miles away fighting for his country. She was here, only a ride away, when he couldn’t even remember the last time he had enough telephone network to FaceTime them. She was there, physically with them, when he was just a ghost, present for a few days a year before disappearing for months on hand.
Y/N tried to reach out for his left arm to try and calm the whole situation down, but he moved ever so slightly she couldn’t touch him. The fire in Jake’s green eyes was incandescent. He was angry, with Sophia, with her, with everyone. And to know he didn’t even know half of it…
“Let’s not start now,” his older step-sister stepped in to try and reason him.
“Why?” Jake retorted immediately. “Wanna updates me on what is going on with Mark as well?”
Olivia opened her mouth to answer and as she couldn’t seem to find something to say, she then closed it and lowered her head. She and Mark had officially announced a few weeks before Jake returned that they were going to take some time apart. They had been married for nearly three years and they were having a rough path. They had started couple therapy, trying to make things work. Y/N couldn’t count the hours Olivia had spent on her couch, crying and eating ice-creams.
Y/N knew exactly how she felt like. The deception of thinking she had found the love of her life only to realize it was more complex than this. The sadness of loving someone and it still not being enough for the two of them to be happy. The paralyzing fear of being alone, of never being well enough.
She needed a shoulder to cry onto and a lot of love, and not to be reminded of what a failure she thought she was.
“I am sorry,” Sophia mumbled. Y/N wasn’t sure to whom she was apologizing. Jake? Them?
“You can’t seriously be thinking about it?” Jake half-shouted, pointing her finger at her like he was accusing her of the worst betrayal.
“Don’t say anything you’d regret, son.”
Y/N’s father word seemed to put some sense into him as he leaned his back against his chair, folding his arms against his chest. The distress on Sophia’s face was now palpable and she was on the verge of crying from Jake’s quite violent reaction. Though she didn’t expect Jake to be totally supportive, Y/N had not expected him to reject the idea that much either. She had thought that he would’ve still listen to her reasons, maybe try to talk her out of it, but finally make peace with the idea. Just like they had. Just like they all had when he was in her shoes.
Olivia had regained her composure and wrapped an arm around her sister’ shoulders. The look she sent Jake probably refrained him from attacking again his little sister. Instead, he chose another target for his anger.
“How can anybody be cool with this?”
Before Jake’s mom could speak, Y/N called him out. “Why could you do it and not her, Jake, huh?” She wants to be like you so bad, don’t you see?
“That’s not the same thing.”
Y/N huffed and rolled her eyes.
It made her even bitter. For all the things he hadn’t told her when he had no reason to hide it from her. For him being hurt that they didn’t want to discuss as such important topics over the phone. She would have liked to be sorry to hide all this from him, yet his reaction had only comfort her on her choice.
“You’re being unfair.”
“Am I now?” he laughed. “Excuse me for putting my life at sake and not wishing for me sister to do the same.”
“Did anybody ask you to? If anything, we would all have loved to keep you by our side.”
“Oh, I see. So, this is all my fault, right?”
The daring look he offered her made her heart jump in her chest. Her stomach was in fire; consuming her from the inside. She was tired from the sleepless nights she had for the last few months. And sad about the outcome of this lunch. And disappointed in him. And quite frankly done with his attitude.
Sighing, she gave in and looked away, throwing her napkin on her plate at the same time. Whatever this was, it was too much for her to handle. “If you’d excuse me,” she announced as she moved her chair back. “I am not hungry anymore.”
“Y/N-” he called after her, grabbing her arm to make her stay. She gave him a pained look before abruptly pulling away from his grip.
“Welcome home, Jake.”
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Jake’s face appeared once again on her phone screen.
Big bright smile, sunglasses on the bridge of his nose, forehead sun-kissed by the first rays of sunshine of spring. The picture had been taken one of the few times she had fly out to California to visit him. They had such a good time that Y/N used to hold all those memories close to her heart. Now, she couldn’t even look at it.
She couldn’t count the number of texts Jake had sent nor the number of messages he had left on her voice mail. She hadn’t read nor listened to any of them and had even decided to turn off her phone at some point during the night. She needed some time alone to take a breath and to swallow the disappointment that was forming a lump in her throat.
Despite the emotional roller coaster this day had been, she hadn't fallen asleep until late in the night, turning over in the sheet nonstop while thinking of all the comebacks she could have said to his face. And like every other night for months now, when she had finally managed to get some sleep, her worst nightmare had woken her up a couple of hours later.
It only made her feel worse and she cried all the tears in her body. It was like whatever emotion she had retained in the last year had come back to her like a wrecking ball. She was angry for all sorts of reasons all linked to Jake one way or another. She was also very sad of the situation she found herself into, of Jake having spoiled their reunion, of the spectacle she had given in front of her loved ones.
So, when she turned on her phone a few hours later, eyes still puffy and red from the lack of sleep and the crying, she didn’t hesitate to turn down his call when his smiley face appeared on her phone screen. At that time, she discovered the multiple texts and missed calls of her parents and Jake’s sisters. She sent them a quick group message, letting them know she was fine and that she would catch up later. Leaving her phone on the kitchen counter, she got ready for her day.
Her phone rang four more times while she was getting ready. She was now determined to let him know to leave her alone. She was still pissed, and she needed to compose herself. This was without counting on the doorbell ringing when she was about to answer her phone.
Stopping whatever she was doing, she made the few steps from the kitchen counter to her apartment door, opening it without even thinking who she would find behind. Much to her surprise it was the only person she didn’t want to see. Jake. Standing there, phone in his hand.
“Oh, come on!” he exclaimed when she nearly shut the door in his face.
He stopped it before it was fully closed and after a deep sigh, Y/N let him in without even giving him a look. She closed the door behind him, passing him - still without looking at him - and went to the living room. She leaned against the kitchen counter, crossing her arms on her chest much like he had done during lunch just the day before.
Jake stood in the middle of the room, watching around him. It was the first time he was in her new place, the one she started rented after she broke up with her long-term boyfriend. It wasn’t much, only a one-bedroom apartment with a sanitized decor - she hadn’t had the heart to make it her own. It was close to her work and not a too long drive from her parents; it was all she really needed.
Y/N studied him in silence. He must not have had the memo about the Texas weather at that time of the year as he was only wearing a beige sweater, sleeves rolled up. It wasn’t much of a surprise he had forgotten how it was; he had spent so little time home in the last ten years.
When her eyes finally got to his face, she realized he was now staring at her. She tried reading him like she could before, but what she found in his eyes, she couldn’t interpret. Perhaps something had been broken between them. Perhaps there were only so much absence someone could handle. Perhaps they had let the miles come in between them for real this time.
She couldn’t tell how long they stayed like this before he finally spoke.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Long gone was the hope she had that he would apologize.
Jake had never been one to be wrong; he was probably even the most stubborn person she had ever met. Though she liked this confidence in him, she also knew it was hiding something much deeper. His trauma of being abandoned by his father when he was still a toddler. The fear of his loved ones realizing what a failure he was, despite everything he had already accomplished. The fear of never being enough.
He had assured her it wasn’t one of the reasons he had enrolled, and she knew he was lying to her just as much he was lying to himself. But she wasn’t her twenty-something-self; she wasn’t going to protect his feelings anymore. Now that they didn’t have an audience, she could lay her cards on the table.
“Do you mean, just like you didn’t tell us about the ejection seat accident that you had six months ago?”
She saw his face drop ever so slightly before he regained his composure back. She wasn’t the only one keeping things from him, yet contrary to him, the things she was keeping a secret weren’t really hers anyway.
“How would you know?”
“Javy called me that time,” she stated dryly, memories of the call she got in the middle of the night flowing to her head. She still had nightmares about it most nights. “He wanted me to know in case your brain injury worsened, and they had to call your family.”
This secret, she had never told anyone and had carried the weight of it on her own until now. She had smiled and assured everyone that all was fine for the days - sixteen in total - they didn’t hear from him; how could he, he had been literally in a 24h surveillance at the hospital. She had had Javy on the phone to report every little detail he had of Jake’s evolution. She hadn’t had sleep for weeks straight and had nearly cried when Jake had called him after a very busy and unexpected mission he took part in - another way for putting he had just got cleared from the hospital.
“It was nothing.”
“It wasn’t nothing, Jake! You got banned from flying for six weeks. Six fucking weeks!”
“And yet, it wasn’t the first time I ended up in the hospital, nor was it the last time. You know that’s part of the job.”
Y/N snorted.
Like hell she knew. The job description went with never being in the same time zone as your loved ones, missing every single milestone in their life, putting his very own safety at risk so they could all be free and safe, and omitting all details of the national security missions to which he was taking part. She was pretty sure though there was no line in his contract about lying about his health, especially when he could have died, to his family.
For some reason, this whole situation had made his absence even worse. She realized he didn’t feel safe to let them know when things had gone bad; if this time she had known, she couldn’t even imagine all those other times Javy hadn’t been there to inform her. It had awakened a visceral (and most likely also irrational) fear in her. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing him and she still wasn’t ready to accept it.
“Why is this such a big deal when you knew what was going in here and didn’t even tell me?”
If she hadn’t been this tired, Y/N would have probably walked to him to slap him. How could he compare his near-death experience to his sisters’ decisions? How could any of it be equivalent?
“This was not my truth to tell,” she only replied blankly.
Yes, she wasn’t very proud of hiding things from Jake and lying on purpose. But she wasn’t thirteen any longer and when people confided in her - when she promised she wouldn’t tell him anything - she wasn’t going to go running to her best friend to spill all the tea.
“Will you then tell me the truth about what really happened between you and the other dickhead?”
“I already told you everything,” she answered dryly, a little bit too quickly for it not to be suspicious.
“I don’t believe you.”
Y/N knew from the sound of his voice it was pure provocation. He gave her the same daring look she had just seen the day before - the same consuming flame was in his eyes - and she could see his infamous smirk dawning on his lips. She wondered why he wanted to prove just how right he was - how he was always right - so bad. It made her skin scramble how infuriating he was.
She didn’t answer right away and stared at him, arms crossed on her chest a little bit tighter to protect herself. Everything that was happening was only making her angrier towards him. He had ruined everything, and he had just decided to continue on doing so.
She had dreamt about him coming home for months and months, to have him by her side and now, she could only wish for him to go away. The anger, the pain, the animosity; it was all too much. She couldn’t keep up anymore.
“What do you want me to tell you, huh? How much of a great boyfriend and man he was, but that it still wasn’t enough? How much a horrible person I am for not being able to fall in love with a person that would devote his own life to try and make me happy?”
Jake opened his mouth to respond, but closed it as the words sank in. It all made sense to him suddenly. Why she seemed to be relieved it was all over. Why she didn’t call him after he broke her heart. Why, on the rare occasion he had discussed the break-up with his sisters, they had never talked badly about her ex-boyfriend. He didn’t break her heart. He never did.
She was the one breaking his.
“Why didn’t you just tell me?” he asked, this time his voice much softer.
How could she? When it all started with his accident - that she wasn’t even supposed to know of. When it took her five years of a stable relationship to realize her longtime boyfriend had never have been the person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. When it took her half of her adult life to understand she had been lying to herself for almost all her life and that even now, she didn’t know her truth from her lies any more.
Knowing the truth, Jake didn’t know what to say. He wanted to feel sorry, he wanted to tell her he was. But was he really? It would be lying to say he didn’t exult when he had heard of the break-up... On the day she introduced him to Nick, they he had discussed - quite vividly - about the country actions in Afghanistan - one of the campaigns he had just come home from - and from that day, Jake had just decided he wouldn’t like the man. He hadn’t been very subtle about disliking him, but in his opinion, Nick had paid him back in his own coin: monopolizing Y/N whenever Jake had her on the phone, making her choose between the two of them when he had had the opportunity to fly her oversea. He still felt nauseous to recall how Y/N had seemed to only look at him every time Nick was in the room with them.
He made a few steps in her direction, going to comfort her, but Y/N only shook her head. She wouldn’t let any of this go so easily. It wasn’t because she had confided in him, that he now knew all the truth from her part, that everything else would be forgotten. There were still a lot of unspoken truth to uncover.
“Why are you really here, Jake?”
“What do you mean?”
“The reason you got this leave, what is it?”
They stood less than a metre away, eyes in eyes. Jake never felt so vulnerable as every time she looked at him as if she could read his soul. He knew she was looking for something. Something he couldn’t give her.
Looking away, he answered, “It’s nothing.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Y/N slipped away before he could even react. He watched as she turned back towards the front door. She opened it without a word and looked into his eyes as she stood leaned against it.
“Goodbye, Jake.”
And this time, he didn’t even try to fight.
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Javy: Hey, got Hangman on the phone today. You okay?
Y/N: Did he vent at you for calling me that one time?
Javy: Almost.
Javy: He wasn’t really angry though. Just frustrated I guess.
Y/N: I bet. Wasn’t really the nice little break he must have planned.
Javy: If there is anything to learn from all this it is that truth is better spoken from the person they apply to.
Javy: You should talk to him.
Y/N: Yeah well I’ll see about that.
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Jake was very nervous, and he wasn’t very nervous a lot.
In fact, he was pretty sure the last time he was that nervous was when he had picked Y/N up for their senior prom. Just like every year since starting high school, she had been his date - though Chad nearly had taken her away from him, but this dumbass had broken up with her only a couple of weeks before prom. That year, for some reason, everything felt different. High school years were coming to an end, they were both going to different universities. Everything was about to change, and it would never be the same. Jake had dreaded taking their relationship to the next level. If only he had known that despite going to different universities, Jake enrolling and basically the two of them living their life in parallel, their relationship had made it.
More or less so... It had been three days now since the lunch at her parents, two since their other discussion - if he would call this an argument, he was still unsure - and today was the first time he was seeing her since then.
After spending time with his family, he was on his way to meet with some of their childhood friends. Normally, Y/N was one of them and she had been invited. But with the recent events, he didn’t know if she would be here. He had had time to reflect on what had been said and finally had apologized to her voice mail as she wouldn’t let his calls through. He had given her plenty of time and space, sending in only a couple of good mornings and good nights texts, just like he was used to. Yet he didn’t know what to expect.
When he spotted her already sat at the table he had booked, his heart started pounding furiously. It gave him hope not everything between them had been broken.
“Hey,” Jake greeted Y/N softly when he had gotten at her level.
Y/N only nodded, barely looking at him, before continuing her discussion with their friend, Monica, like nothing had happened. Jake swallowed the lump in his throat before continuing to greet everyone around the table.
In all those diners they had had with their friends when he had been home, she would have been sat next to him, so close but merely touching. He would have had his arm resting nonchalantly on the back of her chair. He would have whispered all sorts of things in her ears, and she would have laughed open light-heartedly at every single one of his jokes.
That night, she was sat as far as possible from him and he had difficulty focusing on the group discussion, his mind going back to her every time. He probably went the whole evening looking at her not so subtly in the hope she would like to give him a look. She did not.
“You good?” Matt, sat at his side, asked him after the main course.
“Yeah,” Jake answered though the little tremor in his voice didn’t reflect confidence.
“Just give her a little time. It’s just a lot, y’know.”
Jake only nodded.
The problem was indeed just that: time. His flight back was in two days now and she was supposed to be his ride. He knew she would be able to drop him off without speaking a word, while he sat there in the agonizing silence. He was sure he was not able to do it for a couple of hours, he couldn’t imagine what it would be to not have her speak to him every again. He couldn’t get back to combat with Y/N still mad at him. He needed to fix things. He had been able to do it with his sisters; he had to do it with Y/N.
Indeed, the lunch had finished soon after Y/N’s dramatic departure. His sisters hadn’t spoken another word to him, and Y/N’s parents had tried to maintain some semblance of a conversation. Jake had taken a quick walk to clear his mind before going to his parents.
He had sat down with Olivia first and then Sophia, so they could tell him everything that had been going on. He sat there listening to what they had to say until they were done. There had been a lot of crying on their side (only a tiny little bit on his side - most likely because he had a dust in the eye, he would say). In the end, they had hugged and laughed and remembered that they loved each other and that nothing could be more important than that.
He had realized Olivia seemed much more at peace, somehow differently but also similarly to Y/N’s. She had so many plans on her side - buying a house, planning a trip to Europe, getting a puppy – as if she had just discovered she could be a unique person outside her marriage and she genuinely was happier.
The talk with Sophia had been a little bit more sensitive. The idea of her enrolling made his blood boiling, but he had remained calm – or at least tried to - and listened to her reasons. If he was afraid to see himself in her, her reasons were solely different than his. She didn’t want this only to do like him; it was more that he had paved the way for her. He had made her promise to think some more about it - at least, graduate from college before deciding anything - and he had promised to be supportive. He would have some work on himself, but he would cross that bridge when he’d get there.
They had of course talked about Y/N and how she was carrying the whole family on her shoulders. She always made sure everyone was alright, answering her phone at 3 a.m. to pick up Sophia from a frat party gone wild, welcoming Olivia in her tiny apartment - giving her the only bed to sleep on the couch, despite her protest - the time she turned things round after Mark and she had decided to take some time apart. She even made sure their mother was alright when his step-dad was away for business, bringing her homemade meals that she only had to heat up and keeping her company.
If he always knew what an amazingly caring person she was, it only proved him right. He would be forever grateful she was the first person to have talked to him on his first day of kindergarten. He would be forever grateful for the woman she was. If he was honest with himself, it all made him love her even more.
He wasn’t ready to watch her from afar - well, from much far away than his current position - but he would do it (or at least try), should she ask him to…
After what seemed to be an eternity, the evening finally came to an end.
Jake didn’t get the opportunity to speak to Y/N though he hesitated multiple times to just call her out or walk to her and demand that they had a chat. She was currently bidding goodbye to everyone in front of the restaurant, and Jake was watching her attentively to ambush her just as soon as she was finished. He didn’t care if he would be rude to anyone by not saying thank you for coming and goodbye; he needed to talk to her.
After she hugged Monica and promised to let her know when she got home safely, she reached for her car key in her bag and made her way to her car without even looking at him. Jake took his luck and followed her. He called after her, but she refused to acknowledge him.
“Can we not?”
“Why?” she turned around suddenly. “Want me to tell you anything else?”
“Y/N, please.”
She only raised an eyebrow before turning back and continuing walking. Too bad for her, Jake wasn’t one to give up this easily. He followed her lead up to her car that she started to unlock to get in. A wave of panic got through him as he could feel her slip away from his fingers and he didn’t want that. If they didn’t have this talk now, he was not sure they would have it at all.
“I only have two days left,” he said, interposing himself between the closed door and her. “Please.”
Y/N froze at only a few centimetres away from him. She seemed to think about what options she had. Unfortunately for her, there just wasn’t much as she couldn’t make Jake move even if she wanted to. So, she chose the reasonable choice. She crossed her arms over her chest and listened.
“I-” he sighed, passing a hand on his face, frustration clearly visible on his face now. “There has been an incident. We lost two men.”
Y/N’s arms immediately dropped to her side; the mask she wore on her face cracked. She could have been angry he lied to her, yet again, but this time, it was too serious. People died. The command had given them time off because of it. It only reminded her it could end at any time. She really could lose him.
“Jake,” she sighed.
“I-”
His voice broke and Y/N didn’t hesitate to go in for a hug. Out of habits, his arms found her waist and he buried his face in her hair. He breathed her perfume in, trying to ground himself and not totally lose it. She was his rock. There were no ways he would still be here if it wasn’t for her waiting for him at home.
He couldn’t lose her.
“I can only imagine the worry I cause you all,” he muttered in her hair. “I didn’t want to add anything to it.”
Y/N grabbed his face with both her hands and forced him to look at her. She wore a small frown on her eyebrows and determination in her eyes. While she was touched he wanted to spare their feelings, not knowing what was going on was even worse. She couldn’t count the number of times she had thought he was dead when an unknown number had called her phone. In order to support him the best way they could, they needed to know.
“Getting you back in one piece is our priority,” she started, voice bold as if she wanted him to engrave her words in his head. “That’s why we are keeping things to ourselves. We don’t want you to worry about us when you should be solely focused on staying alive.”
Jake half-smiled in return, which made Y/N relax a bit. Her hands fall on his shoulder as he kept her close to him, so close that there was no space between their two bodies. They had realized they wanted the exact same thing for one another: for them to be safe and sound.
“I worry about you all, all the time. I worry about you, all the time,” he confessed, his voice still low.
Jake reached out to tuck a loose string of hair behind her ear and Y/N instinctively leaned in his touch. It was like this between them, easy and pure. It always had. Sometimes - like these last past days, they were so caught up in life they seemed to forget what they had was so unique. Every time they had found their way back to each other.
“I left you alone while I am off, living my dream.”
“Don’t say it like you could have made any other choice, Jake.”
“I don’t regret it,” he answered right back. “Yet if I had to do it all over again, there are a lot of things about you that I would do a whole lot differently.”
Y/N nodded slowly, her heart rate slightly going up. If they often shared I-love-you’s more out of habits than anything else - though they were always genuine, Jake had never really expressed out loud how he felt about her, and from the electricity in the air - totally different from the explosive tension that had built up until now, she could feel there were more to it.
“It’s never too late, they say,” he smiled softly, his hand making it to the back of her neck.
Y/N hold her breath, searching in his eyes if he was being serious and if he was really wanting to finish the conversation they had started the night of their senior prom. If he wanted to do it right here, right now in a parking lot. It was a conversation that could have totally changed their life if they had it. A conversation for which they every so often imagined what they would have said if fear hadn’t stopped them.
If there were much younger back then, nothing now had changed at all.
“I’ve always been yours,” Y/N whispered. It would be lying if relief hadn’t wash over Jake. Of course he had known - he had always known - yet, hearing it was another thing.
“I know.”
Y/N’s bright eyes saw his eyes dove down to her lips, only a dozen of centimetres away she realized now, then back to her eyes. Her cheeks were burning up from the anticipation of what was to come. Yet, lost in each other’s eyes, none of them moved.
At that moment, the world could have stopped that they wouldn’t have noticed. Nothing else but them mattered.
“Well, kiss me then.”
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harzilla · 13 days
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Original post found here. https://www.tumblr.com/harzilla/760718001365549056/ohh-brain-rot-time-long-lost-sibling-au-except
Expanding on the idea. I want to thank @achromaticbibliophile for a lot of these ideas
Riddle and Yuu growing up in complete opposite lives. Riddle under strict parentage while Yuu grows up in a family similar to the Robinson's in Meet the Robinson's. A chaotic but loving family that sees failure not as a bad thing, but as a way to learn. Who finds a baby on their doorstep and adopts without hesitation. The two butting heads at first. Until the truth of Yuu being Riddle's sibling is revealed. Perhaps Yuu's hair is platinum blonde or even white. Perhaps Riddle is the Red Queen to Yuu's White Queen. Riddle who is introduced to Yuu's adopted family and it's all so chaotic, dinner nearly a food fight and afterwards he's brought into the kitchen to help make the dessert. Messing it up and he thinks it'll be another oyster sauce incident. But instead everybody cheers and ohh. It's actually okay. Yuu and him sharing the story of him messing up the tart after his overblot The family turns it into a silly joke. The dessert is missing something, why not oyster sauce? The family, having a contest to see who can create the weirdest dessert, and Riddle winning by making a traditional Queendom of Roses star gazey pie. Riddle, who finds himself laughing along with the rest of the family. Welcome to the family Riddle.
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Leona, who has always been the unfavored. Who is brought to meet Yuu's adoptive parents. Leona, who had to convince Falena not to come but instead sends a note thanking the parents for raising the third Kingscholar child. Yuu's parents shocked to see their lost child come home sporting ears and a tail and bringing home a brother. Leona, who finds himself at ease when they ask him about his aspirations, his plans for the future, he's just Leona to them.
Jade and Floyd. Who grew up with a mother who was always worried about them. Eventually learning about a third eelver who was lost to the tides. One day a kid runs up to their parents with a baby wrapped in a towel. The adults panic but the couple eventually adopt the child. Yuu who doesn't have a clue until the day they go to the coral sea to retrieve the photo and transform into an eel mer. Jade immediately separating Yuu and bombarding them with questions while Floyd keeps the others away. Jade and Floyd who drag Yuu back to NRC.
J&F: Found our lost sibling.
Azul: What?
J&F: *dumping them into a tank* Found our lost sibling.
Rollo, who hates magic. Magic lost him not one but two siblings. Rollo, who plans to rid the world of magic. The masquerade invitation to NRC. Rollo, who is shocked when the previously uninvited Prefect looks strikingly similar to himself and his deceased brother. Perhaps he sees Yuu as an even bigger motivator for his plans. Magic took his siblings from him, and if he destroys it, then magic can never take Yuu from him again. Yuu who at the end tells him that yes, magic may have separated them but magic also brought them back together and perhaps magic may allow him to see the world they grew up in.
Malleus' was expanded on a lot and is practically a fanfic in onto itself.
This idea is actually thanks to @kitsun369
The Spade family, a set of baby paternal twins. One that looks like their father, and the other who looks like their mother Dilla. The parents separate after a particularly nasty divorce. Only for the baby with dad to disappear after their father is attacked and injured. The parents, but especially Dilla spend years mourning the loss of one child. One day, Deuce overhears his mom on the phone crying to his grandmother because she's afraid something will happen to Deuce if he doesn't get on the right path. She's already mourned one child. She can't bare to mourn another. That day Deuce decides to turn his life around, he never wants to see his mom cry like that again.
Deuce who becomes friends with the prefect. They're like peas in a pod. They're each other's biggest supporters. The day they go to the White Rabbit festival and Deuce introduces his mom to Yuu, she's shocked because this child is practically the spitting image of her ex-husband when he was that young, even down to the same hair color. She doesn't want to get her hopes up but could it be?
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since I’m drawing more of them, here is a bit of background for my x2 Prowler PunkFlower AU (mix of comic and animated canon and my own delulu):
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- Hobart started out in a life of crime because he felt trapped by his circumstances (this follows the comic canon, he is the youngest of 9 siblings, but his dad left early, mom was an alcoholic, and eventually even his big brother left. Even though he was a tech genius, he struggled to make a living). Then after his right hand was injured after a job for Kingpin, he was saved by Peter (let’s say in Earth 42 Peter is not Spiderman, instead he runs a company.. which is also comic canon at one point).
Parker Industry gave him a prosthetic and provided a healthier environment for Hobart to grow, they sponsor him to be a kind of vigilante to keep the city safe (again, this is a bit based on the comic canon, but in the comics he was paralyzed from the waist down for a while, he also worked for Parker Industry for some time).
- For Miles G. after his father died, there was a time when he lost his direction in life. He was haunted by the fact that he could not protect Jeff. Earth 42 is already chaotic, he doesn’t know how to protect his mother (since Uncle Aaron also has his own business and can’t stay with them all the time).
- One night when he was walking back home, Miles was stopped by a robber, normally he could protect himself, but that day his mind was spiraling so badly and before he knew it, he was cornered. That's when Prowler saved him.
- Hobart was just on duty, the alley was dark so he couldn't see the other boy very well, he just turned his back to tie up the robber and told Miles to go home, it's very dangerous here.
- At that time, the Prowler symbol on the back of Hobart’s jacket seemed to engrave itself in the back of Miles’ eyelids - a call to fight, a call to protect. He made a decision then.
- Miles immediately ran to Uncle Aaron and told him of his intention to be a vigilante. Aaron was hesitant at first, but Miles said that if he didn't train him, he would go find the Prowler himself and ask him for help. Aaron was worried that Miles would be taken advantage of by others, so he accepted to train and help him create tech.
- After a while, the two of them started blowing things up left and right in Brooklyn with Miles as the new Prowler, that was when Hobart realized that there was another guy running around in his symbol (there is a whole theme in the comics where Hobie’s Prowler gears keep being stolen by other ppl to impersonate him 😭)
- He thought about telling the boy to stop, but seeing Miles punching criminals, confronting villains who are many times bigger than him yet was still not afraid, Hobart became… curious? Want to know who that person is, why do they do this.
- Of course, when they meet, Hobart still asked Miles to not to carry his logo around, but Miles stubbornly argued that anyone can be a symbol, and he would not dishonour this one.
- In general, Hobart was impressed with Miles, but it took some time for both of them to gradually trust each other. After more than half a year, Hobart took the initiative to tell Miles his true identity, Miles then also took him to meet his uncle.
- After the two became closer, Miles began to help Hobart repair and maintain his prosthetic. Hobart also began to doubt his future in Parker Industry. He had never liked to be confined to a system, and although Peter helped him a lot, he still wanted to be his own person, fought for his own ideals. So as soon as Miles and Hobart were able to fix his prosthetic on their own, Hobart left Parker Industry and moved in with Miles.
- They started dating after 2 years of knowing each other (Aaron thanked heaven and earth that his nephew finally stopped blue-ball that Hobart boy, his head hurt every time he has to witness their awkward flirting 😭😭), when Miles G. met Miles 1610, he and Hobart had been officially dating for a few months.
So basic timeline: first meeting Miles G. was 13 / Hobart was 15 -> worked together as Prowlers team at 14 / 16 -> Hobart left Parker Industry / they started dating when Miles is 15 and Hobart is 17 -> meet Miles 1610.
Well that’s all for now, so when I draw that AU it’s based on that groundwork. Cheers!
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amywritesthings · 2 months
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seven days. | part one.
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( Read on AO3 )
Pairing: armin arlert x gn!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 3.9k Summary: Armin gets bamboozled into joining the annual Yeager family beach vacation — and accidentally meets you.
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - alternate universe (modern), beach house, summer vacation, eventual romance, alcohol, partying, Armin deserves a romcom, Eren & Zeke have zero braincells Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics
part two. | masterlist
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“Zeke, you Point Break bitch, did you steal my boogie board?!”
Ah, yes. 
If he was looking for a week of tranquility and peace, then Armin Arlert should have declined the invitation to join the Yeager family for their annual summer vacation.
Time and time again, Eren has begged his best friend to tag along.
As far as he's aware, this has been a family tradition ever since his best friend was a toddler.
One week, the same week, every single year.
Not to mention it's the same beach house merely two blocks away from the boardwalk and sandy shores.
Home away from home.
It’ll be amazing!
(Eren likes to claim.) 
There is so much sick shit we can do!
(His words, not Armin’s.)
You’re gonna sit on your ass and read anyway, so why not do it by a beach?
(...okay, maybe that sold him.)
Then again, nothing is more humbling than standing with your duffle bag in one hand, filled to the brim with ‘maybe’ shirts and ‘just in case’ medicines, and your pillow in another while the Yeager family chaotically dissolves into a panicked army of four battling to even get to said beach in one piece.
Chaos.
It’s their collective middle name.
“Armin, sweetie, do you want any snacks for the road?”
Carla Yeager — doting mother figure and matriarch of the family.
She’s the reason they’re taking two cars this year, too afraid she may forget something important at home.
From fresh tangerines to a plethora of board games, she’s thought of it all.
Shuffling his bag to give his hands some equal soreness — ouch, that's freaking heavy — Armin offers an apologetic smile.
“No, Mrs. Yeager, I’m fine. Thank you.”
“How many times do I need to tell you to call me Carla?” 
Every time, actually.
Although Zeke very easily calls his stepmother by her first name, Armin can't bring himself to do it.
Blah, blah, raised a certain way by his ever-traditional grandfather, blah.
The awkward blonde merely nods once and watches as Carla shuffles by to throw another box of napkins into the trunk.
“Here,” she gestures, waving her arms while she’s in front of the hatchback, “that looks bulky.” 
It is, but he’s a kindred spirit in the name of overpacking.
“I can find a spot for it,” he promises, but relents when the woman gives him that mom look that straightens out her son and stepson. “I— Thank you, Mrs. — Carla.”
Close enough.
He hands her his duffle bag, careful to spot the bottom of it in a sneaky attempt to help her ease his luggage into the first car.
Boom.
The front door bursts open to reveal Zeke and Eren, shoulder to shoulder, frantically fighting to see who can walk out first.
Grunting, Zeke tries to push ahead with his neon-green boogie board against his torso, but Eren manages to dip at the hip and rush down the steps. 
The momentum nearly knocks Zeke’s oval glasses off the bridge of his nose.
“Could you be normal for two seconds?” the blonde groans.
Eren merely answers by sticking his tongue out and holds up a hand, wiggling his thumb and pinkie back and forth. “Fucking loser.”
Carla immediately glares. “Eren, language.”
“Forking, sorry, forking,” Eren corrects with little remorse.
“Seriously?” Zeke laments as he walks by, squinting at his brother. “What are you, ten?”
“Zeke,” a voice chastises softly from the garage. "Be nice to your brother."
Grisha Yeager, father of the year, rolls out a large cooler to bring it towards the second yet-to-be-filled car.
He’s wearing a Margaritavilla button-down, his long hair tied similar to Eren’s. On his forehead is a tie-dye headband.
“We'll be within close quarters of one another for seven whole days," Grisha reminds in that airy tone of his. "We should hold off on the in-fighting until day four at the very least.”
"I'll give it until day three," Zeke mumbles under his breath as he passes by, shoving his boogie board into the first car and smushing Armin's duffle bag down to half its size.
Yeah.
This is what it’s like to vacation with the Yeagers.
Except when your grandfather gets a new girlfriend, and they go to Key West for the summer, you’re stuck without being able to say no to your best friend’s family.
Seven days.
He can handle the Yeagers for seven days.
.
.
— —
.
.
  It took less than three hours for Armin's pale skin to burn like an overcooked egg.
“It’s really not that bad,” chimes in Eren, mouth occupied by the hair tie between his teeth.
Invading his pessimistic mirror space, the taller brunette dips to look at himself while fixing his staple half-up bun hairdo.
The shorter blonde frowns even further as he checks out his tomato-red shoulders, standing shirtless and shoeless in front of him.
“It looks pretty bad, Eren.”
“Nah. Just slap some aloe on it, alright?”
Ruffling sounds behind him.
Glancing over his shoulder in the reflection of the mirror, a bag of potato chips flies into view as Eren carelessly rips it from the cardboard variety pack — courtesy of the emergency snack stash in the corner of the room.
(The emergency snacks are, quote: So that bitch-ass Zeke doesn't steal the goods.)
The sun-kissed boy walks barefoot to the edge of the twin bed and flops down.
Right.
He forgot to mention he’s sharing a room with Eren, which only makes matters forty times worse.
Two twin beds with doily-esque blankets and flat pillows.
Thank god Armin had the sense to pack his own.
“Besides, the alcohol will make it feel better," Eren adds, chewing on a potato chip.
With a noise of defiance, Armin turns from the mirror to stare at his best friend.
“You do realize alcohol dehydrates a person, right?”
“So?”
“So—” Armin protests tightly, “—it’ll make it worse.”
Eren pops another chip in his mouth, shaking his head. 
“Nah.”
Eloquent as always.
Groaning, he slowly — agonizingly — pulls his pastel blue polo over his aching shoulders and breathes out through his nose.
That SPF 50 was supposed to work, but he must have lost track of time binge-reading his first book of the trip.
A spy thriller, actually, that fell flat right around chapter three and nosedived bad just at the cusp of act three.
The wildly out-of-left-field twist made him so mad that he missed his alarm to reapply another coat of sunscreen, and—
Well.
As a result, human lobster is now on the menu tonight.
Regardless, he promised to go out.
It isn't ideal, but a promise is a promise.
About ten or so blocks away from the beach house is the coveted spot known as The Point.
From what he could gather from Google, The Point is a tiki bar boasting high-top bar tables nestled in sand, recreational volleyball courts, and live music all week long.
It’s about the only lively place in this rather family-friendly beach town.
While not technically a dry town, bars are few and far between and there are approximately a whopping zero nighttime entertainment venues, so The Point was about as wild as any college kid stuck on vacation was going to get.
Earlier, Eren spent most of the car ride to the house hyping it up.
Zeke, in surprising fashion, seemed to hold the same sentiment.
(It’s probably the only thing the brothers could agree upon.)
Plus, Zeke apparently had some surfer friends he’d met online that were going on the first night of vacation, so that solidified the night’s plans.
After showering, dressing, and having family dinner with the parents, it's go time.
A little past nine at night, the three boys walk on the sidewalk in a triangle unit, with Armin trailing behind.
Ever a wallflower he keeps quiet, observing carefully as the two brothers figure out their game plan.
Zeke is anti-shots.
Eren wants shots or nothing at all.
“We’re on vacation, why the fuck wouldn’t you do shots?”
“Because,” Zeke explains, “if you start with shots, then you’re setting yourself up for failure.”
“Yeah, if you can’t hold your liquor.”
“Eren, you just turned twenty-one.”
Eren’s nostrils flare. “So?! I had plenty of practice at university!”
“Is he a lightweight, Arlert?”
Wait.
What?
Oh, shit, they’re including him.
“Be honest,” Zeke adds over his shoulder.
Like a deer in headlights, Armin blinks between the brothers. “Uh… sometimes?”
“What?!”
The yell out of his best friend is piercing.
“You goddamn turncoat!”
“You’re not exactly somebody with an iron stomach, Eren,” the blonde reminds softly as if calming a petulant child, only to wince when he's met with a look of pure anger. “But that isn't to say you can't hold a shot down.”
“Or five,” Eren challenges.
“Three at best,” Armin relents.
“Three and a half.”
Armin squints as they turn the corner leading towards the entrance of the bar.
“In what world does half a shot cou—”
“Wait!”
Eren yelps, holding out an arm to stop Zeke in his tracks.
Armin subsequently also stops — as does his wearing patience.
“I have a solution.”
Zeke pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “And what’s that?”
“Look at me, dude.”
The boy with the man bun demands attention, using his pointer and middle finger to gesture between him and his half-brother. 
“You know what I’m thinking. Give it nine seconds.”
Right.
Not ten, because Eren’s favorite number is arbitrarily nine.
Zeke squints with about as much confusion as Armin’s feeling, but Armin knows by now how this is going to go.
Although they’re born with two different mothers, they’re eerily in sync with one another when they want to be extra annoying. 
Some kind of Yeager sixth sense tying them together; they fall silent, staring—
Then the thought strikes.
Like two brain cells clicking together, they simultaneously grin at one another.
“Jagerbombs.”
Great.
So even worse than a shot or a beer.
That’s all it takes for the two to become best buds as they stroll into the tiki bar like they own the place.
The blonde and brunette zero in on an open spot at one of the several pop-up bar locations at this venue—
—leaving Armin in the dust to fumble out his I.D. to the bouncer.
It's nothing new.
Cover charge? Paid.
Hand stamp? Accomplished.
Careful not to get any sand in his sneakers, Armin treads carefully across the uneven landscape towards the same lively bar as his best friend.
Music thumps right into his ribcage. 
Flashing lights threaten to blind him if he so much as looks over his shoulder to the west.
It’s more than he’s used to.
More than he wants, really.
(What happened to the leisure part of vacation again?)
“We got you one!”
Eren.
Blinking back into his body, Armin glances at the shot glass filled to the brim of Jagermeister waggled in his face. Immediately responding with a grimace, he steps back.
“No, I’ll just grab myself a drink, alright? You two enjoy — that.”
“What?” Eren’s frown is immediate. “Seriously? How else are you gonna get wasted with us?”
I’m not, is what he’d like to argue, but he knows Eren by now.
“What do you mean us?” Arnin shouts over the music. “I don’t see Zeke!”
“He got a text from one of his dumbass surfer bros and ditched,” Eren answers, “but to be perfectly honest, I’m thinking of playing the field tonight.”
“The what?”
“The field!”
“Eren, it’s really hard to hear you when they won’t stop mixing Pitbull with ABBA!”
“What?!”
Oh, this is impossible.
He raises his hands to gently push the shot glass towards his best friend’s chest. 
“You take it and show Zeke you can handle it!” Armin calls back at the top of his lungs, his shaggy blonde hair waving in the wind as he nods with encouragement.
That: giving Eren a challenge.
(Works like a charm.)
Determination spreads across his face. Eren nods, hyping himself up for a double-fisted success story. 
Armin simply nods, too, using the chameleon effect to build up Eren’s trust.
(Maybe he shouldn’t be using his psychology notes against his best friend, but desperate times call for desperate measures.)
“Yeah!”
Eren shouts while dropping the shot into the energy drink left perspiring on the bar top.
“I’m gonna!”
“Okay!”
“And then I’m gonna talk to a girl! Or a guy! Or someone!”
Armin’s eyes shoot wide with surprise, but he chooses not to rain on his best friend’s parade because Eren is already chugging the drink, spilling a little of the Jagerbomb down his oversized black tee.
(Good call, wearing dark colors, unlike Armin’s poorly planned pastel.)
Slamming it down on the bar top with a howl of victory, he pats Armin on the arm and trudges forward to the dance floor to do…
Well, that’s between the power of Charli xcx and God.
“Oh, Eren,” Armin mumbles, watching the little man bun bounce in time with the beat of the music until it’s consumed by dancing bodies.
Turning back to the bartenders, the blonde debates.
Agonizes, really.
He doesn’t drink very often.
It’s not really his thing.
But… when on vacation, right?
(Alone, apparently, since Zeke isn’t coming back anytime soon and he’s going to need to deal with dragging Eren’s drunk ass home in the next two hours.)
“Vodka soda, please,” he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.
The bartender behind the counter nods his way before pulling out a plastic cup. 
Within a few seconds the simple alcoholic beverage is concocted, and he leaves a reluctant ten-dollar bill on the sliver of the bar that isn’t covered in condensation or sloshed liquor.
He reaches—
Oh.
That’s not a cup.
Freezing in his place, his blue eyes zero in on a pair of fingers entwined with his, nestled on the very same cup.
He can feel them tense under his own slender digits.
Dread. Pure, existential dread.
Apologize, apologize—
“Shit—”
“I’m so—”
“Sorry!”
A stranger’s voice yelps with his in unison.
Before he can move, their hand rips away from his, leaving his fingers to meet with the cold plastic.
His neck cranes to his left and—
Oh.
Oh, no.
You.
Blinking several times to get his wits about him, he can feel his mouth growing dry.
The way the blinking lights illuminate off of your face completely force his train of thought off the damn tracks.
Flickers of blues, greens, pinks — they compliment your face so nicely as each shade seems to highlight another feature that he hadn’t noticed a second before.
He shouldn’t stare, but he can’t help it: you’re drop dead gorgeous.
“It’s okay,” Armin breathes out after holding his breath for some time. “That was my bad. I didn’t see you.”
Your eyes are just as wide as his. “No! No, it was my fault. I thought that was my drink.”
“What did you order?”
“Uh, a hard seltzer? I think?” you answer, scrunching your nose as you respond.
Mayday.
That’s a type of adorable he is not equipped to handle in his sunburnt state.
“You think?” he repeats with a small chuckle.
You move your head side to side, tilting with an uncommitted air about it.
“It’s bubbling, right? Means I’m on the right carbonated track.”
“Yeah, but don’t hard seltzers usually come in cans?”
“Not always at this place,” you correct, before pushing the cup towards him. “I also kind of panicked when I ordered, so sorry for almost being a drink stealer.”
“Trust me, I know a thing or two about panic ordering,” Armin admits with a huff, taking the cup into his hands.
“Yeah?”
You give a carefree laugh that causes his stomach to give an Olympian-grade somersault.
“Is that why you got a vodka soda?”
“Guilty as charged.”
“We’ve all been there,” you empathize, briefly pouting your lower lip. “I won’t judge.”
He’s not nearly drunk enough to deal with this (see: at all) but that doesn’t mean Armin is going to waste his opportunity.
He may be a wallflower, but he’s equal parts an opportunist.
“So you’ve been here before?” he tries instead, hoping you don’t suddenly snatch your seltzer can and walk away.
You do get your seltzer from the same bartender — a slender aluminum can, nothing fancy — but you don’t walk away.
The opposite: you angle towards him.
Shit, okay.
He can do this.
“My friends love this place,” you tell him over the music. He finds himself leaning closer, angling his chin down, so he can hear you better. “So I just tagged along to make sure no one got black-out drunk or made out with anyone weird.”
“A noble effort,” Armin teases, and your eyes sparkle with amusement. “My friends dragged me here, too.”
“Dragged?” you catch with a growing smirk as you take a sip. “I said I tagged, not dragged.”
“Oh.”
Idiot.
Recover.
“I mean, it wasn't — yeah, no, I was definitely dragged here,” Armin confesses, sipping his vodka soda for some liquid courage.
No use in lying to seem cool.
That facade would crumble like a house of cards.
“Partying at The Point not your scene?” you ask without judgment laced in your tone.
Armin nods. “I could be sitting on the balcony reading right now.”
Your brows slide high with intrigue. "Reading?"
Yeah, he should have expected a reaction like that.
The blonde shuffles, shrugging his shoulders.
"I know, lame."
"I don't think it's lame at all," you answer instantly.
His eyes widen. "I— no?"
"Uh, no," you snort. "If I had a choice, I'd probably be doing the same thing."
Oh, shit.
Oh... shit.
So he's not lame, and he found a possible fellow bookworm.
Armin sips his drink so fast that a little dribbles out the corner of his mouth.
Liquid courage; he needs it, badly.
"If you could be home right now instead of here, what would you be reading?" he decides to ask, knowing it's the most unsexy question he could offer.
You scrunch your nose again, seriously contemplating the question while bobbing your head to the music.
"I brought maybe two books? I should have brought more."
He nods eagerly, his blue eyes round with interest.
"I have a romance that takes place in the summer — I know. Very on the nose," you relent with a small huff. "And, uh, this thriller? But I'm not crazy about it, so I'm mostly reading the romance book on the beach."
"I brought a thriller, too," he admits. "Bounty Run."
"Shut up, you too?"
"Huh?"
You laugh, and it's a melody that makes the music at this venue pale in comparison.
"I literally bought Bounty Run last month and never got around to it until now! It's so bad!"
To whatever deity is smiling upon him today, Armin has to thank them.
Not only has he met someone who likes reading, but they think Bounty Run sucks.
Maybe he's hallucinating from the burn screaming through his polo right now.
"It's really bad," he agrees breathlessly with a chuckle.
"Like dogshit terrible!"
"I know. What the hell was Tracy thinking in chapter six?"
"Oh my god, when she decided to call the hostage guy?"
"Yes!"
"Like, I'm pretty sure that's not how those situations work."
"Not even close."
You both laugh, and all Armin Arlert wants is to know every miniscule thought of yours.
What other books you may have read.
If you have any recommendations.
If you're single.
Nope.
No.
He's not Eren Yeager.
He is not his best friend— 
"Are you from here?" you ask over the music, breaking his panicked train of thought.
Armin swallows more alcohol, shaking his head. "No, we're not locals. We're just vacationing."
"So are we!"
"With your friends?"
"My friend's family," you correct, leaning closer to stop shouting so loudly.
He can feel his blood pressure spike exponentially.
"I'm with my friend's family, too," Armin tells you. "Our shore house for the week is something like ten blocks from here."
“For the week? Which way’s your house?” you ask, before holding up your free hand. “Not in, like, a mega-stalker way.”
“Oh, I didn’t take it that way,” he promises, earnest intent pouring from his mouth. “It’s, uh… wait where are we — oh! That way.”
He swivels and points, like somehow that’ll triangulate where the beach starts.
Your chin turns, noting the direction. “So near the… beach? No fucking way, our house is that way, too, but more like a seven-block walk from here.”
Oh.
No fucking way, indeed.
"Seriously?" Armin asks, voice cracking just a tad.
"Yeah! Do you guys camp out on the beach by third street, too?"
He nods almost too eagerly. "We were just there this afternoon."
"So were we," you confess with a light laugh. "Small world! We were both being subjected to that god-awful book and could've warned each other to pick a less shitty book."
"Well, I brought about a dozen books if you want one to borrow."
Way to go, mouth.
Armin tenses instantly as the words pour from his mouth.
"I... you know, just in case the romance book doesn't work out! Or if you're a fast reader! Or if you—"
"Promise?"
Your question cuts through like a knife.
He is in awe.
Enamored.
He'll give you all of his goddamn books if it means you'll talk to him after tonight.
Suddenly your chin drops, and your free hand fishes for your phone in the back pocket of your jean shorts.
A frown tugs at the corners of your lips, causing the blonde to simply wait.
Stare.
Don't go.
Don't go, don't go, don't— 
"Shit, mayday with my friend."
You sigh as if you were expecting a disaster.
Hell, he's expecting one, too, but he's selfishly forgotten about saving Eren or finding Zeke.
"Are they alright?"
"Yeah, just..." You trail off, typing back a response. "They pre-gamed before we came here to save money. I told them not to, but... best laid plans, right?"
"I could give you my number?" he blurts, and your attention leaves your phone.
Your eyes round with surprise, and he feels immense shame in even offering.
Yet—
"For the books," he adds hastily. Shakily. "To borrow. O-Or if you ever want to just... talk about them."
"For the books," you agree, biting your lip between your teeth. "Yeah, sure, give me your phone."
His cup is empty, but he almost drops it trying to yank his phone out of his pocket.
Armin holds it out to you, unlocking the screen. He watches as you pocket your own phone and take his, typing your number into a new text chat window.
This is happening.
This is seriously, actually happening.
"Here," you offer, handing his phone back. "I put my name in."
He glances down, memorizing your name with newfound vigor.
"Okay, perfect. Oh — my name. My name is Armin."
"Armin?" You repeat. He nods. "I like that name."
Suddenly, he likes it, too.
"See you around?" he asks hopefully.
With a parting smile, you take a slow step backwards.
"...yeah, Armin. See you around."
You look just as sheepish as he feels when you turn on a heel, disappearing into the crowd.
For a moment he stands there, dumbfounded — phone in hand, slack jawed —
Hopeful.
Maybe...
Maybe Armin Arlert won't hate spending seven days at the Yeager shore house after all.
.
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author's note:
Thank you SO much for reading part one of my little summer story! I've been dying to write a proper Armin fic for a while now, and a casual, warm vacation setting felt perfect for him. This is meant to be a cozy read, so I hope you enjoy my love letter to my favorite boy. xo
How are we feeling after part one? Let me know in the replies! (And thank you for any reblogs, likes, engagement, etc. Every comment gives this writer wings.)
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Could you do fic for Aaron Hotchner with wife reader? She and Jack were out buying things for the baby (she was pregnant) and they were trapped in a hostage situation somewhere. The BAU heard about it and they immediately took notice of this to help them. She comforts Jack because he is scared while she was praying for them to get out safely. A little angst and eventually fluff. You decide how it ended. Tag me later!! Thanks :))
@pear-1206
I have no idea why this never came up in my asks, but I found it now, so here it is! I hope you enjoy sweetness <3
The mall was bustling with activity as you and Jack navigated through the aisles of the small store, picking out baby clothes (him showing you the grey elephant onesie that he swore the baby will love) and accessories. Jack, holding tightly to your hand, was excited about the upcoming addition to the family. It had been so long since you felt like you were somewhere you belonged, but when you met Aaron Hotchner and his young son, you couldn't help but to fall hard and fast for the older man; both of them accepting you with open arms. At first, Jack was cautious. Of course he was, he thought you were trying to replace his late mother; but as time went on, you proved to him that if anything, you were trying to keep her memory alive. From making sure he said goodnight to her every night, to setting a place for her at the breakfast table, soon enough, Jack came to accept you and love you the way his father had. Within the year you had found yourself carrying Aaron's baby, Jack himself excited at the prospect of being an older brother. You couldn't help but smile at the young boy's enthusiasm as he added another two stuffed toys to the basket you were carrying. At first you were worried about how Jack would respond to your impending birth, but the further along you got, the more and more excited he got.
"Can we get this one?" Jack asked, holding up another tiny onesie adorned with cute little footballs.
You chuckled, ruffling his hair. "Of course, sweetheart. Your little brother or sister will love it."
Just as you were about to move to the next aisle, a sudden commotion erupted. Shouting, followed by the unmistakable sound of gunfire, filled the air. Instinctively, you pulled Jack close, your heart pounding in your chest.
"What's happening?" Jack's voice trembled with fear.
"Shh, it's okay, baby. Stay close to me," you whispered, guiding him behind a display of baby cribs.
At the BAU headquarters, the team was busy working on their latest case when Garcia's voice came through the speaker, urgency evident in her tone.
"Guys, we've got a situation. There's a hostage situation at the mall, and... and Y/N and Jack are there."
Aaron Hotchner's heart dropped at the news. His mind raced as he processed the information, fear for his wife and son gripping him tightly.
"Let's move," Hotch commanded, his voice steady but his eyes betraying the turmoil within. The team sprang into action, each member knowing the stakes had never been higher.
Back at the mall, you held Jack close, your heart aching at the terror in his eyes. "I'm scared."
You cupped his face in your hands, trying to keep your voice steady. "I know, sweetheart. But we're going to be okay. Daddy and his friends will come and help us. We just have to stay strong and quiet." You knew about his past trauma, his survival on the day his mother passed. You wished nothing more then to take him away from here.
Jack nodded, his small body trembling against you. You placed your hands over his ears, making him close his eyes. If you couldn't physically take him away, you would make sure his mind wasn't here. You closed your eyes, sending a silent prayer for your husband's swift arrival and safety.
Minutes felt like hours as you waited, your thoughts a chaotic mix of fear and hope. Suddenly, you heard a familiar voice over the mall's intercom.
"This is the FBI. We have the building surrounded. Let the hostages go and no one will get hurt."
Relief washed over you at the sound of Aaron's voice. You knew he would do everything in his power to get you and Jack out safely.
Outside, Hotch coordinated with the SWAT team, his mind focused solely on getting his family and the other hostages to safety. Prentiss, Morgan, Rossi, JJ, and Reid stood by, ready to move at a moment's notice.
"We need eyes inside," Hotch said, his voice calm but determined.
"On it, boss," Morgan replied, moving swiftly to deploy a small drone through a side entrance.
As the team gathered around the monitor, the drone's feed showed the hostages huddled together, guarded by armed men. Hotch's eyes zeroed in on you and Jack, relief and anger battling within him.
"Garcia, I need everything you can find on these guys. Now," Hotch ordered.
"I'm on it, Hotch," Garcia responded, her fingers flying over the keyboard.
Inside, you clutched Jack tightly as the tension in the room grew. The kidnappers were getting agitated, their demands growing more frantic. You could see them starting to argue among themselves.
Suddenly, a flashbang exploded, filling the room with a blinding light and deafening sound. You shielded Jack as best you could, praying for his safety.
Within moments, the BAU team burst in, swiftly taking down the kidnappers with practiced precision. Hotch was the first to reach you, his eyes filled with relief and worry.
"Y/N, Jack, are you okay?" he asked, his voice tight with emotion.
You nodded, tears streaming down your face. "We're okay, Aaron."
He pulled both of you into a tight embrace, his body shaking slightly as he held you. "I was so scared," he whispered, his voice breaking.
Jack clung to his father, his small body trembling. "Daddy, I was so scared too."
Hotch cupped Jack's face, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "You're so brave, Jack. I am so proud of you."
Later, as you sat in the ambulance getting checked out, Hotch never left your side. He held your hand, his eyes never leaving yours.
"I'm so sorry you had to go through that," he said softly, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your hand.
You shook your head, giving him a reassuring smile. "It's not your fault, Aaron. You got us out. That's all that matters."
He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I love you so much. Both of you."
Jack, sitting beside you, looked up at his father with a small smile. "We love you too, Daddy."
You gave the small boy a small smile, "He did such a great job at picking out baby things. We found the cutest elephant onesie didn't we Jack?" Aaron smiled at the scene before him, never in a million years did he think he would find such happiness again; but he did. With his son, his wife and his soon to be newborn baby. It was something that made his heart ache with excitement, something that gave his life so much more meaning then what it had; before he was barely surviving. Living just for his son but now, he had a life to really live for.
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skyrigel · 4 months
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Hey Rigel I love ur work like so much 💓 can I request Anthony bridgerton where he is getting married and realises his love his y/n or smth similar with him getting jealous and angry when y/n and Benedict or colin fake date like tht or anything if this doesn't make sense 😭
Enchanted | A.B x you
Pairing: Anthony bridgerton x fem!reader, Benedict x fem!reader x colin ( platonic) wc - 3.8k
Synopsis: When Aubreyton's CEO strikes a match with Miss Edwina sharma, because she's nice and kind and witty, ofcourse nothing could go wrong, except you have feelings for Anthony.
Warning :CEO! Anthony x assistant! reader, Asshole! Anthony, Benedict x sophie, Polin, bridgerton's chaotic dynamic, reader and Benedict share one brain cell that's mostly with you, alcohol, fake marriage( Anthony and reader), social media au, office au, modern setting, forced proximity, jealousy jealousy, mutual pinning, fluffy fluff, bit angst, arranged marriage, bit Collen Hoover bashing but it's a joke ( maybe not ) no Edwina bashing, scary Kate sharma, yes!!! ( Might add more later )
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" Your brother is an idiot." You said, gritting your teeth as your mail blew with applicants, beautiful young ladies with peculiar yet remarkable talents.
" That." Benedict catched the grape midair with his mouth," we know of." He added with a cocky grin.
" Read another ! " Colin peppered, stealing your cookies which you ignored, sighing as you opened another mail.
" Tiana Young, twenty-one, I like to read, write and sing, my favourite author is Collen Hoover—" Benedict snorted, " —I like children and hope to be a mother, I am very soft spoken and good natured, my neighbours call me Ti, because I am a tea kinda person—"
" What's a tea kinda person ? " Colin bited the smuggled cookie, Benedict pulled the remaining to his side hastily, you felt your appetite long gone.
" It's like...they are like tea..." Benedict said, more in doubt as he looked for affirmation.
" Like milk tea or another tea ? " You asked, perhaps tea could takeaway your headache.
" What's an another tea ? " Colin's hand began to pull the tray, Benedict frowned but said nothing, taking one hurriedly and breaking it into two parts, offering you the bigger one.
" No thank-you, let me fix this Tiana's appointment." You exhaled, copy pasting a paragraph how (un) grateful you were to her for reaching out, she would soon have her appointment date and bla bla bla.
" I knew my brother was workholic but this wife hunting thingy is so exhausting." Benedict wiggled his eyebrows, you knew he was being kind but he wasn't helping at all.
" It would have been over if his requirements weren't so high, like he's not looking for a wife but some utopian woman god has yet to create ! " You were ranting, you knew, but this was the only way you could stop yourself from punching Anthony for putting you into this misery.
" Why can't he just fall in love ? " Colin looked at you and Benedict seriously, his mouth covered in crumbs, " Come on, love is like...like a force to be reckoned with ! " He beamed, ofcourse it was a force, didn't Penelope wrote something smiliary in her latest book, you somehow felt your heart shuddering, what would happen if Anthony were to be in love, some intelligent, beautiful woman, some utopian goddess of his, you didn't like the idea one bit, so you laughed it off.
" Brother in love ? " Benedict was in stitches, banging his palm on the table, shaking few very important papers that laid without any significance. They will be probably used as napkin if you weren't there.
" It's not funny." Colin got up, taking his coat, he rolled his eyes when Benedict refused to stop laughing, you shaked your head helplessly as another mail popped up, Jasmine had written a essay about global peace and increasing capatilism, you groaned, damn you Anthony bridgerton!
_
" Good evening Anthony." You tapped save on your screen as Anthony entered the office, a beak of sweat trickling down his neck line, okay, someone got either fired or roasted down to their very existence, you preferred the former.
" Good evening y/n." He looked up at you, he worried his jaw to say more but decided against it as he settled on his chair, it was very comfy and very big, years of working with him but you couldn't fathom the courage to ever have a taste, perhaps Benedict would help, maybe then.
" There are twelve appointments I have scheduled for tomorrow, Miss Becka—"
" Cancel them."
" What ?! " You almost shouted, you didn't waste your whole day to adjust and fit these pretty woman according to the time and weather and place and Anthony's mood so nothing went wrong, did he just said cancel them like it was nothing, this—
" We are going out Tommorow, it might take all day so cancel them." Anthony ran a hand through his hair as he exhaled sharply, your brain short circuited at the words more and more made some meaning, we ?! Did he, for heaven's sake said we ?
" You and me ? " You blurted and lowered your gaze when his eyes snapped to you, a deep color blazed your nose as you fiddled with your skirt.
" Yes, me and you." He confirmed and you could swore, that was a smile, a small, thin, almost unrecognisable on his always stern face, but that was a smile.
" Why ? " You closed your laptop, tucking the strands of your hair that usually came out after a long day, behind you ear.
Anthony pressed a key and it beeped, he shifted his face to you, thinking that he was almost frowning and finally, he said with a neutral face.
" I have found a match." His face gave nothing away, " Miss Edwina will be most suitable for marriage." He said it like it wasn't his marriage he was talking about, " she's very graceful and witty and would make a amiable wife and a kind loving mot—"
" Right." You snapped mid course, his mouth was hanging open with words lost in void, you knew very well Miss Edwina was a fine young lady, she was beautiful and kind and sharp at wits, ofcourse this ended your torment or perhaps began another, but not now, you needed to think.
" I..I promised Benedict for dinner. " You muttered, feeling your whole body numb as you stumbled out of your seat, Anthony watched, something glazed in his eyes but you couldn't place it, you might if you looked longer but you had no courage left now. You were almost at the glassy door, he was watching you intently and you felt his gaze burn at your back.
" You like my brother quite very much." He startled you, you paused, heart beats echoing through your throat. It was like he was accusing you, almost jabbing his finger on your chest. What does that mean ?
" What could I say ? He's very amiable." You turned to smile at him, it trembled on your lips and Anthony scoffed slightly, mouth curving in disdain but it was gone as soon as it crossed his face. Damn you !
" Have a nice day sir." You closed the door behind you, covering your face as a muffled scream cut through your cartilage.
_
" Miss Edwina ?! " Benedict almost screamed as you narrowed your eye sternly at him, he lowered his voice in a whisper, ducking his head down towards you, " sorry but Miss Edwina ?! "
" I know, I know." You swigged another gulp of the dizzy bubbling liquid that will give you a terrible headache tommorow but right now, you just wanted this uneasiness feeling to go away.
" Didn't her scary sister vowed to ruin him or something like that ? " Benedict licked his thumb, eye's watering at the spice, you loved this place's Chole bhature very much, last time Benedict cried when he accidentally bited the green masala filled chilly.
" Yeah, she refused to take ahead the Mayfair deal, or something like that, not that it would ruin anything and—" You sighed, leaning back your head as the soft music tickled your senses.
" What ? " You heard his faint murmur.
" Well Anthony was right, as soon as our team announced his engagement, ofcourse not revealing the bride, he's well trending—"
" He's always trending." Benedict groaned, chugging water as his lips were swollen with spiced heat.
" Yes, but not for thirsty things, i meant that Aubreyton is trending and our shares are touching the sky and it's a whole profitable season ahead." You ended breathlessly, you stared at him for full second before both your eye's crinkled with smiles and laughter that came from your hearts, it lightened the air somehow as well as your heart.
" You do remember I am part of the executive board ? " Benedict tilted his head with a warm smile and you shaked your head, feeling tipsy.
" Like you do anything except torment me and poor Colin ! " You pouted, feeling your cheeks flush as Benedict threw his head back and laughed.
" Poor Colin ? " He cooed, " he's probably getting laid tonight." He added with a wink, you slapped his shoulder nervously.
" Penelope replied ? "
" Ofcourse, my dear little brother wrote a whole ass three page message, with a picture of all her books that too hardcover and first editions."
" Wow." You said, impressed, Colin was head over heels, it was only a matter of time since the dazzling author knew.
" And what of Miss Beckett ? " You wiggled your eyebrows like Benedict did when he teased you, he turned a beetroot red as he fumbled with the last contents of his glass.
" She refused for a live in relationship." He said, his face grew sad and you mentally winced for putting him there.
" Oh." You nodded, Sophia lived with her evil mother who liked to see her suffer and she was, afterall, too good of a girl.
" Benedict..." You whispered when he closed his eyes softly, hiding his face behind his palms.
" I am not crying." He was. He sniffed as a few heads turned towards the pair of you, many with sympathy, probably thinking you had refused to marry him or something.
" Hey, hey, hey..." You pulled yourself as you dizzily tripped over to his side, wrapping your arms around him as he melted in your embrace.
" She doesn't understand..." He said it so muffled that it was unable to make out what he said, but you understood it anyway.
" She will, she loves you so much." You kissed his head and he nodded, tears streaking your shirt as he finally emerged with red, sticky face and puppy bright eyes.
" I think i drank too much." He admitted, you nodded, feeling yourself floating too.
" Let's call a cab, we shouldn't drive." You suggested, fiddling with cash as you payed the bill, leaving good tip for the teenager waiter, who smiled kindly at every inner joke Benedict shot.
" Uh huh." He focused hard on his phone, sticking his tongue out like he did when he was really, really drunk and or just really, felt the need to, or he was about to do something stupid, which he did.
Twelve minutes later, Anthony bridgerton was standing outside the restaurant with a heavy frown and it was strange to see him in normal clothes, like that grey t-shirt felt odd yet gorgeous and those sweatpants, you were way too drunk, you realised.
" You'll make a fine gentleman." Anthony curted his mouth, his words dripped with sarcasm that you and Benedict were too drunk to catch on.
" Thankyou, the cab idea was mine." He said smugly, ducking out when you smacked his ass with your purse, Anthony watched with wide eyes.
" Liar." You jabbed at him, he started to giggle and stumbled, taking you along before Anthony grabbed you by the waist and pulled you away from him, Benedict winked at you when Anthony closed his eyes, frustration or whatever that dazed him, his touch was electrifying, like current jostling in water.
Anthony pulled away his arms from you, his eyes strained like it pained him just the same it hurt you.
" You are wasting my time brother, get in the car." He glared, " come." He said to you, his gaze softened but that could be alcohol, you weren't reliable narrator especially when it was Anthony bridgerton.
" Well you could have refused." Benedict ran and sprawled inside like a bear, covering the whole back seat with his wasted body.
" Yes well, I didn't come for y—" he clamped his mouth in a thin line, nerve twitching on his forehead as he breathed hard, eyeing you as you ran after Benedict's seat thievery, you opened the door and his head almost snapped when he looked up you, it was a nauseous enough to make you vomit.
" Move." You pulled his hair, in no hell you will sit in the front seat, not like you haven't, but you were drunk and you were angry and you hated Anthony and you wished so much to just, to just, just once, once just, kiss him hard, that's alcohol, bloody alcohol.
" Leave this idiot." Anthony was suddenly behind you, he touched your elbow with same electric touch, guiding you to the empty front seat as he opened the door, you could feel Benedict wiggling his eye, you will deal with this bastard later.
" I was thinking—" Benedict started, once Anthony started driving, he was shut real quick when Anthony glared with words.
" Stop thinking." Anthony rolled the steering wheel and you looked away, those veins taunted and lured you, it was maddening and the streets were much dull and undistracting.
Benedict giggled at something he probably said in his head, you chuckled when he burped, he did too, only Anthony didn't.
" Don't you have a date tommorow with Mr. Dorset ? " Benedict craned his neck to get a view of you, two Bridgerton's eyes were too much to take as you thought hard, well yes a date, with Mr. Dorset, yes, you did remember.
" Ofcourse." You said, Anthony drifted a turn that jerked your head forward and you would have got a concussion if it wasn't his big palm that came for rescue.
" Are you okay ? " He asked, slowing down the car as his fingers pushed you back until the back of your head was pressed against the seat.
" Yeah." You confirmed, nothing was more threatening than his touch. He should bloody know that.
" Are you okay ? " Benedict mimicked and you realised he was down there, squashed on the car floor, his face hidden somewhere.
Anthony ignored him as his expressions hardened, he was breathing hard as he worried his lips, thinking and thinking.
" You do know it might take all day." Anthony finally said and you cocked your head to his side, you were drunk and well, sleepy too.
" What ? Well, it's a dinner date." You assured, Mr. Dorset wasn't letting go and a Thai curry wouldn't hurt anyway.
" Yes well, it might be very late." He was frowning now, his eyes were on the road but he would glance between nano seconds.
" Really ? " You pouted, you were way too gone now, it didn't matter, Anthony's eyes stopped at your lips and when he looked up, something changed, like it must have changed a long ago but it's colours were only visible now, like moon hiding behind the clouds, beaming but not seen and when it's finally high, hanging at sky, you blinked, expecting it to be gone, like everything, but when you opened your eyes, it was still there, as clear as ever, shimmering at you. That's alcohol, bloody alcohol.
" Yes.." Anthony gulped hard, pulling at Benedict's apartment, how much he wanted sophie to built a home with him, soon, you thought, soon.
" Oi y/n, I think I found your lipstick." Benedict hopped up, his face had lines where because he didn't bother to get up once he had fallen, with a shade that you never used in your whole lifetime, Anthony looked away when you tried to catch his eyes.
" That's not mine." You said, feeling anger creep up your neck, not knowing why, it's not that you were the only one who sat in his car and ofcourse you weren't his girlfriend, you weren't his friend even, he was your boss, you were his assistant, that's it, that's fucking it, you really wanted to punch his face, that's bloody alcohol, you would never drink again.
" Benedict, my brother." Anthony took the lipstick away which Benedict was trying to apply on himself, " get the fuck out."
" Goodbye to you too brother." He leaned to smooch Anthony when he hastily pulled away, growling.
" Bye bye sweetheart." Benedict smooched your cheek then and his lips only touched your warm skin before Anthony pushed him back in the back seat, it was, kinda rough.
" You are drunk." He told Benedict who shrugged, blinking heavily.
"He always kissed me goodbye." You glared at Anthony, this freaking bastard, chew on your lipstick, Idiot. You leaned down to kiss Benedict's cheek and he giggled softly, eyes locked with Anthony, his wide bastard grin flashing, glittering as Anthony eye rolled.
When Benedict was dropped, it was your turn, Anthony stared ahead like a statue, you were suffering in your own head.
The silence became heavy in air as the music was either tragic or too loud for your head and Anthony sensed the discomfort, turning it off altogether.
" What are we going to do actually? Venue deciding or something." You finally spoke, remembering how much you stared and stared when the article popped up, Anthony bridgerton looking for a wife !! You remembered the qualification list, should be well spoken, should be linguistic, should want kids, should be family loving, should be this, should be that, should have good enough hips to bear a child like what ?!
You remembered days and days when he would have his appointments, yes appointments, most of times he was out within five minutes, a frown on his face.
" She doesn't know algebra." He said one time when he came out within two minutes and you shrugged, well algebra was hard afterall.
And now Miss Edwina had ended all your miseries and torture, no lists, no more algebra's and Collen Hoover's, nothing of that anymore, Anthony would be a husband soon and perhaps he would love her, or already love her, he was so determined even when Kate sharma threatened to cut deals with Aubreyton if didn't stop sending flowers, well that was your doing, sending flowers because it was your idea, but well, it didn't matter.
" Well not the venue, but wedding ring and wedding dresses, Mother say we match and cake tasting and flowers—" we.
" When's the wedding ? " You looked at him scornfully, Anthony's eyes lowered at you as he stopped the car.
" Next week." Fuck you Anthony!
" Shouldn't you decide that with Miss Edwina herself ? " You were glad, but you had this feeling that he would be taken away from you, once married, he might not be yours, he was never yours, but still, why not start now ?
He frowned like it wasn't the most sensible and obvious thing.
" I..." He hesitated, " Miss Edwina might not want to go, since the wedding is too near and also, to keep it a private engagement."
" Oh." You didn't get a thing, your mind wasn't working as Anthony leaned down to open your door, you freezed, only your heart thudded loudly, could he hear ? What he did to you, well it wouldn't surprise you if he knew and still chose to torture your poor soul. " Why not state it publicly ? "
" I can't deal with the fanfictions." He said in matter of factly way. " And paparazzi giving Edwina trouble." Don't say her name, don't.
" Fanfictions ?! " You laughed so loud that he actually stopped thinking whatever he was, and just looked at you, as if taking in every detail, savouring them, drinking every bit of you in, he looked like he was mesmerized but that was just alcohol, just your silly heart, just you, who had read all those one shots, about you and him, ofcourse you weren't going to admit it and ofcourse you would be quite dammed if you ever saw Anthony getting shipped with Edwina Sharma, they are getting married in a week idiot, yes, but not today, not now, later, when it was time, please, not now. Later, now he was yours.
" You have a good choice either way." He was, for no reason, walking you to your door, you remembered how Benedict was practically kicked out earlier, he would tease you so much if you were to ever tell him.
" Oh please." You chuckled, rubbing your hands together in the chilly air, " I gifted Benedict onesies on his birthday."
Anthony smiled, it didn't leave his face until he caught you staring and you noticed how different he looked, when those lines were of joy instead of worry, he looked young and his boyishness made your heart do cartwheels.
" That was just a joke." He amused, " wasn't it ? " His smile faltered when you shaked your head in a no, fumbling for you keys.
" It wasn't so bad." Anthony said, somewhat traumatised, " Benedict wore them anyway."
" It had penguins ! " You cringed at the memory, a drunkish Polaroid like, blurred and saturated, it was vivid but just like yesterday, Anthony didn't dance until you were both so drunk, perhaps he smiled back than too, and looked just as dazzling.
" You are good y/n." Anthony said sincerely, " stop being mean to yourself." You opened the door but your hands freezed at the doornob, why Anthony had to cut the right wires, why he had to upside down your whole world ?
" Well, same to you Anthony." You said, he lingered on the doorway more than he should, it was alcohol, it really, really was but no amount of gaslighting could blur the memory away, you always remembered how brave you were that night when you leaned down, one step not much, and placed a small, chaste kiss, just a brush of your lips against his blazing skin. A touch to his soul, it sparkled and rose and busted into a thousand orbs and sprinkled like glitters on you and him.
" Good night." You whispered, Anthony stared, too stunned to say anything, then he smiled, small and enchanting.
" Good night y/n." His smile stayed.
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honey bun • poly!batboys
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genre: smut
summary: reader is ovulating, so her three mates make it their mission to get her pregnant by pumping her full.
a/n: this piece serves two meanings: my 1k special, with a dedication to my lovely @redbleedingrose for both the idea and a lil gift. i hope you all enjoy!
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you knew that the moment you agreed to move into town house with all three of your mates that it was going to be very chaotic— sexy, but chaotic.
and mother, were you right.
everyday was something new, adventurous and full of love, even though each male had a different way of expressing their love, communicating was never much of an issue. you were spoiled rotten by the three illyrian’s, both emotionally and financially, and never doubted the amount of love they had for you.
although, they were very wholesome and sweet, they sure could fuck like they hated you— especially during fertility season.
“fuck, get ready take another load, baby.” cassian grunts out into your shoulder, feeling his balls tighten as he ruts into you.
you were already pumped with your high lord’s cum, twice, and you knew there was four more rounds of semen to come before you were anywhere near finished for the night— not that you were complaining.
it was like a dream to be pumped full with not only one, but three different sets of illyrian cum, and at least two times each at that. the consequences being a sore cunnie the next morning and a possible babe announcement next month; exactly what they were hoping for.
cassian came seconds after for the first time that night, joining his brother’s sticky mess inside of your womb with his own. his heavy breathes cascaded off of the skin of your neck and sent shivers down your whole body, your shaking legs tightening around his waist and pulling him in deeper— if that was even possible.
“f-fuck, your cunt’s so lovely.” he chuckled into your shoulder, but the laughter faded into a whimper as the new sensitivity of his cock came apparent when you became tighter around him.
the both of you took a breath before the general slowly pulled out of your dripping pussy with a hiss, and softly pushed back into the sopping mess of your cunt.
“so fucking messy in here now.”
a dark chuckle sounded from the right side of the bed, snapping you out of your subby and filled headspace as butterflies abrupt within you from the familiar sound.
rhysand.
you turned your attention to the male, eyes quickly finding his violet ones and softening them as he takes in your fucked out state. the smirk on his face gentles, yet the fist around his cock doesn’t flatter.
he cocks his head at you, a tell of his fake sympathetic mood.
“awe, my darling, do you feel full already?” he asks softly.
you babble an incoherent agreement, one that only your mates would understand, followed by a fast nod and a whimper as cassian hits your sensitive gummy walls over and over and over until your stomach knots again.
your mates knew too well that you were close again, and the two beside you quicken the pace on their cocks as the one inside of you fucks you faster, ignoring the painful sensitivity of his cock.
“look at me, pretty girl.”
azriel.
you obeyed thoughtlessly, immediately directing your eye contact to the shadowsinger, where your head had been laid on his thigh all night.
“good, good girl.” his free hand found the side of your face, grimacing at the left over saliva on your cheek where rhysand had licked a few tears away earlier, but smiled down at you anyway.
“wanna cum baby?” he asked gently, eyes intently watching yours for hesitation or pain but was met with an enthusiastic nod instead. “you can cum then, princess. go ahead.”
with a small scream and a harsh arch of your back, you did. you clenched tightly around cassian’s cock once more, creaming around the thick base and pushing some illyrian cum out accidentally.
“such a pretty girl.” rhysand spoke as he watched the way your body shook. “one more round from you cass, then it’s azriel’s turn.”
“ ‘s not gonna be long then.” cassian responded, feeling the euphoria of another orgasm closely approaching as his strong hips picked up inside of you, slamming into your hips roughly and undoubtedly bruising them.
you didn’t seem to mind, in fact they all recall watching you buck you hips to meet his, as if you were begging for another fill of his cum.
a wish that would very soon be fulfilled.
“she wants it, cassian.” azriel encouraged. “she wants it so bad.”
with a loud growl, warm liquid coated your walls once more and joined the other three puddles in your womb.
the male above you shook lightly, huffing out breaths as he regained his strength to switch. but you were too tight, too warm, too wet to pull out of, a drug cassian shamelessly become addicted to as he stilled his hips.
after a minute too long, the oldest brother shoved at the male’s shoulder with a hiss that meant ‘move’.
“you’re lucky she likes you so much, brother.” he groaned before reluctantly removing himself.
though he didn’t roll over without a ‘thank you’ kiss to your lips, slipping his tongue along your own quickly before joining rhysand against the head board.
“my turn, isn’t it, beautiful?” azriel mumbled to you, his thumb stroking your jaw softly as he carefully slid his thigh from under your neck and slipping off the bed. “do you need a break?”
as usual, you shook you head to the offer as you made grabby hand motions at him, watching your mate position himself between your thighs with a lazy smile on both your faces.
his eyes studied your face for any pain or discomfort as he tapped the head of his hungry cock on your clit lightly, teasing you just as he always did.
“put it in, please.” you whined causing all three of your mates to chuckle softly at your eagerness for the spymaster’s cum.
rhysand quirked an eyebrow at you. “i don’t remember you being in any place to call the shots, darling.”
before you could apologize, azriel slipped inside of your aching cunt, still standing between your legs but his eyes moved onto your harden nipples. memories of sucking on them previous to your first load of cum of the night flashed through his mind as your lip wobbled at your lord’s scolding tone.
“leave her be, rhys. it’s not her fault her womb loves my cum so much. is it, princess?”
you shook your head, babbling another incoherent version of ‘no’.
“gods, she is so fucking full. so much godsdamn cum inside this cunt, it’s practically leaking out.” azriel hissed to his brothers as seed poured around his cock with each inch deeper that he pushed inside.
“don’t worry, she won’t let it spill, will you, sweetheart?” cassian cooed at you.
“n-no, i-i-i promise.”
azriel smirked at you proudly, and increased the speed of his hips for you.
you gasped when his cock directly pounded into your spongey spot, and you could feel another orgasm approaching already.
“good fucking girl.”
before azriel could announce your impending arrival, rhysand kneeled beside your face, hands cradling your cheeks. confusion spread across your face as he maneuvered your head to his liking, but you understood once the leaking head of his cock pressed to your lips.
“i’d hate to waste my cum, darling, but i’m afraid i can’t wait.” he explained. “open up.”
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Lost and Found (dp x dc)
Alfred sighed as he looked over the wide gymnasium, thinking to himself that he shouldn’t have listened to Leslie. Community service was all well and good as a way to connect with people, but overseeing an inter-school bakery-sale-and-science-fair combined event was proving to be more chaotic than anything else.
As another child dropped yet another just-bought desert on the floor, Alfred slunk into the shadows deciding to let the clean-up be someone else’s task for once. As he got further and further from the main hubbub, the ex(?)-butler arrived near a small exit door and snuck out quitely. As the fresh air hit his face, Alfred let out a breath. Seeing so many children around had him thinking of his charge and where he could possibly be.
The older man hadn’t brought a pack, since he’s been going to a school, but in the moment he wished he had. Sighing once again, Alfred shook off the craving as he took a few steps towards the communal school garden when the sight of a black-haired boy sitting with his back to him had him freezing. A second later his brain caught up to him, reminding him that this was not young master Bruce. The crushing disappointment he felt as he recognized the boy in front of him was much to small to be his little master Bruce surprised him by its intensity.
Alfred took a moment to compose himself before he cleared his throat. The noise had the figure flinching and turning their head towards the older man. Then, as the boy caught sight of the older man, he seemed to slump. Seeing that he was unlikely to speak up first, Alfred took it upon himself to start the conversation.
“Might I inquire what you are doing outside, young man?”
The boy’s shoulder slumped even more though he still answered. “Haven’t got any sweets to sell,” he mumbled.
“Oh?” Alfred sounded out. “Why is that?”
“My cookies ate my homework so I had to put them down,” said the boy as he finally raised his head, long-suffering
But Alfred could only breathe a faint “Indeed?” as the boy’s features were exposed. The resemblance with master Bruce was so uncanny that the butler had trouble looking away. But as he examined him more closely he could see some minute differences. The boy didn’t have the sharp jawline both mister Wayne and master Bruce had shared. His nose was smaller than master Bruce’s and his eyes were paler than the darker blue passed down through the Wayne line. The sight of a face so similar and yet not quite like master Bruce had his mind jumping to the portrait hung above the manor’s fireplace and the face of the toddler sitting on his mother’s lap as a slightly older child stood beside her with his father’s hand on his shoulder.
Everyone had bemoaned the two-fold tragedy of the Waynes. First to lose their youngest son at such a young age, only to be themselves brutally murdered only a few months later. All was left of the previously illustrious Waynes was a grief-stricken eight-year-old who had just lost his brother and parents in such a short period of time. Alfred sighed as he remembered how angry master Bruce was at his inability to find out to this day what had happened to his brother. The man half-suspected this was how the young man had developed such an obsession with solving mysteries.
Once again having to focus back on the boy in front of him, Alfred smiled at the boy. Then, the boy’s word registered and the man let out an amused huff. “You had no choice but to put an end to that, I suppose. Cookies as spirited as yours would sell poorly in any case.”
“Oh you’ve got no idea,” muttered the young man as he pushed himself to his feet only for his hand to slip on the wet wood surrounding the gardening plots and falling face-first onto the hard wooden surface.
“Oh dear!” exclaimed Alfred as he darted to assist the boy in straightening up. The boy groaned in pain as he held his nose and Alfred could see drops of red falling down.
“Here,” said the older man as he handed the boy a fabric handkerchief.
“Thanks,” the teen croaked as he accepted it.
“Put your head between your knees,” Alfred instructed. “Breathe through your mouth.”
The boy offered a thumbs-up as he complied. Alfred waited patiently by the teen as he kept the handkerchief held against his nose. After a moment, the boy held it away experimentally and when he felt no more blood flowing he turned towards Alfred.
“Thanks,” he said before he looked down at the red-stained white fabric. “I can wash it and return it if you give me a return address.”
“It’s alright,” Alfred refused. “I don’t mind washing it.”
“Thanks,” repeated the boy as he handed the older man the handkerchief back, as he got to his feet, this time more gingerly. “I best get back before my friends start looking for me.”
“Be careful on the way back,” Alfred couldn’t help saying.
The boy hummed and as he turned around for a final wave goodbye, their eyes connected and Alfred felt a jolt travel through his body. Though the pale blue of Danny’s eyes was not the distinctive shade of the Waynes, it was however identical to the color of the late Martha Wayne’s eyes. As the boy opened the exit door and disappeared in the crowd of people, Alfred looked down at the blood-stained handkerchief.
He knew there was a less than infinitesimal chance. Still. What would it hurt to make absolutely sure?
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