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nikkisheep · 10 months

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To Be Alone With You

Anthony Bridgerton x female!Sharma!reader

Warnings: Smut, TENSION, cursing, oral (f), reader is Kate's full sister, kissing, touching when not supposed to, Anthony and his voice (warning himself), virgin reader (innocent ofc), sex on a dock (lol), kinda public sex, slight angst

I am so sorry that it got so long but it is so worth it. This is also my first Bridgerton fic so hope its good. :)

Summary: It was time that Anthony Bridgerton to finally meet the final Sharma sister who may stand in his way of marrying Miss Edwina Sharma but not like he expected her to.

Anthony Bridgerton was a man who was used to having any woman melt and cling to his every word. Women practically threw themselves at his feet the moment he walked in the room. His presence was a strong one, making everyone eager to please the viscount.

When Viscount Bridgerton met Edwina Sharma, the newly named "Diamond of the Season", he was happy that he could find at least one woman with half a brain. Miss Edwina was the suitable bride and soon Viscountess. It was almost too easy, so he thought. That was until he met the elder sister of Miss Edwina. Kate Sharma, a woman of one and twenty who was unwed herself, was a challenge that Anthony could not refuse. He fell into a pursuit to win over the eldest Sharma sister, doing everything by the book. Well, with a few exceptions.

The Viscount did not want a love match. He could never fall in love with the woman who will bear his children. He just couldn't. And Miss Edwina Sharma was exactly the woman who he could not possibly love but, she would make a wonderful bride for him to breed and come to have a heir to fill the Viscount role when Anthony died.

A last, his mother, Viscountess Violet Bridgerton, had invited the Sharma family to visit the lovely Aubrey Halls. It would be Mrs. Mary Sharma, the lovely girls' mother, Miss Edwina Sharma and then Miss Kate Sharma. Anthony was ready to deal with Kate when she arrived.

---

Dinner was being served when the thunder started. Benedict seemed like he had lost his mind, no doubt had drank Colin's tea that he brought from his travels.

"Have you noticed, Col?" Benedict asked, "The twinkles of the candles, it is as....as if we sit among the stars."

Eloise snorted and looked to her older brother, "What is wrong with you?''

"I was just telling Benedict how brilliant the stars were in Greece," answered Colin.

Benedict went to take a sip of his wine but knocked it over, causing Violet and the other ladies to gasp at the table. The brother smiled and rubbed his hands over his cheeks in an innocent way.

"Lord Bridgerton, Miss Sharma here," A butler said.

"Whatever do you mean, Miss Sharma is here? How many are there?"

In just a few seconds a woman walks in, wearing the similar purple dress that the Sharma sisters were wearing. She looked identical to Kate, except her eyes were lighter. Her hair was more brown than black and she held her head high. Her presence was enough to even sober up Benedict for a moment.

"Is it just me or is there two Kates?" Benedict said, mind foggy.

"I am so sorry for my late arrival. Lady Bridgerton, the house is lovely." The woman said.

Violet blushed and thanked the woman. The older woman always enjoyed getting compliments about her home that she shared with Edmund.

"You said you couldn't make it," Edwina states as she moves to hug the woman. Everyone was confused as a goose until Kate stood up.

"This is my sister," Kate said, moving to stand by her.

You introduce yourself and smile at everyone, that is until you see Anthony. He had this look about him and you couldn't quite tell.

"I assume this is the viscount you were telling me about, Kate?" You said.

"Yes, this is Lord Bridgerton. He is the viscount and is to marry Edwina."

You looked at him and he just smirked. He had found a new toy to play with. And god did he want to play.

You looked at him.

"My lord, forgive me for my tartiness," You say, voice rich.

"All is forgiven, my lady." He had a hard look.

"Please, I am hardly a noble lady to earn that title,'' You tease.

Anthony was taken by surprise, no one had ever teased about their noblity or anything. Being a proper lady is very serious and not taken lightly. There was another Sharma sister, but at least this one seemed nice. For now.

---

You were quite the most annoying and challenging lady Anthony had the misery to meet. You talked too much, you jested a bit, your teasing with Benedict made his blood boil. Your words melting off your tongue and practically bringing Anthony's younger brother to his knees.

Benedict's face had blushed right before you move to rest your hand on his shoulder.

"My dear, Benedict, how are you?" You asked kindly, flashing that beautiful smile that made everyone melt.

"I am quite well, Miss Sharma." He looked down right flustered with your presence beside him.

Lady Bridgerton held a small ball at Aubrey Hall and Benedict had just finished dancing with you. The two of you had swept through the floor, everyone in envy that Mr. Bridgerton's attention was solely on you.

"Brother, I hate to steal our guest from you but I am in need of a dance," Anthony stepped in to say.

"I suppose that I have one dance in me," You laughed.

"I hadn't asked yet," Anthony said.

"Well, in that case, Benedict you wouldn't mind having yet another dance with me?" You smirked when Anthony rolled his eyes and groaned.

Once you got on the dance floor, Anthony could not keep his eyes off you, even as he danced with Edwina and Kate.

"My brother seems to be taking a liking to you," Benedict smiled.

"Please, he wants to marry my sister. After all, who even said I wanted him. Maybe I want you," You whisper the last part in his ear. He shudders against you and smiles.

"Is that true now, Miss Sharma?"

"Perhaps."

----

Pall Mall was the ruthless game that the Bridgerton's ever played. The Mallet of Death sat in your hands as Benedict had handed it to you with a wink and a sly smile. You blushed at the brother's antics.

He moved to be closer to you and whispered something in your ear which made you snort aloud and Kate looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Who has my bloody mallet?" Anthony's voice boomed in the air.

"My lord, I do not know," Kate smirked.

"Where is it?"

You coughed to clear your throat, suddenly bringing the Viscount's attention to you. That might have been a bad idea. It surely was.

"You...You have my mallet, I believe."

"I do?" You inquired.

"Yes, Miss Sharma, you do."

"Well, I suppose that I could just give it to you," You start to hand it to him, his siblings surprised at how easy you were giving it up, and Anthony was smiling, "But first you will have to catch me." You took off running down the field and Anthony just watched in surprise.

"Did she?"

"I believe she did," Daphne laughed. She watched as her older brother looked as if he wanted to blow up.

"Dear brother, I think you should go get her if that mallet is very important to you." Colin laughed as Anthony ran down the field, looking for you as the Mallet of Death rested in your possession.

He ran looking for you and he heard your sweet giggle coming from in the garden. He looked to see that everyone had given up on waiting for them and started the match without the two of you. He walked around the garden to find you crouching behind a hedge and was covering your mouth as you looked around the side of the bush, hoping to not be seen.

His boots moved to quietly as he stalked closer to your frame. He then grabbed your waist and picked you up, causing you to gasp into his hand.

"Lord Bridgerton, put me down this instant."

He placed you down on the ground and stands close to your body. His warmth and scent poured over you in waves. He smelt like sweat, dirt, body wash, slight scent of vanilla, and sandalwood?

"Lord Bridger-"

"Anthony, my name is Anthony." He said, panting at the closeness that he had created.

"My lord-"

"Anthony."

"My lord, it is improper to call you by your given name," You say, trying to catch your breath and not breathe his scent in.

"And us being in my mother's garden alone is very improper, I dare say, Miss Sharma."

Your smell floods his senses when he takes a deep breath and move closer to you, chests touching. The smell of dirt, sweat, lilies and Jasmine? God, it drove him crazy. Just being around you drove him crazy.

"You followed me here.''

"You ran here."

"You chased me."

"You took my mallet."

"I-" You stutter, "Benedict gave it to me."

He looks at you with something dark in his eyes, something that burned with fiery. His hand came to touch your waist and you nearly melt. He looks at your chest, noticing that you were wearing the Bridgerton color. You normally wore purple but you were wearing the baby blue that stood for his family.

"You are wearing my family color," He says, blood rushing some where it did not need to be.

"Oh, I had not known that I wasn't allowed to wear blue."

"It stands for my family and you...are...wearing...my...color."

His body presses closer to you, invading your space. He moves to corner you against the tall hedge, the only thing keeping your situation from any on lookers.

His mouth moves to rest beside your ear, hot breath fanning over the exposed skin there, goosebumps rising on your skin.

"You want something, I can sense it."

You shudder.

"And what would that be, my lord?"

"You want me," He said lowly.

"You are to marry Edwina," You correct him.

"That doesn't change that you desire me," He chuckles at your attempt.

"I beg your pardon. You are a rake and I have no desire for such a person like you. You are to marry my sister, not me. If you wish to be with my sister than act like it, if not then leave her alone. I will not be some play thing for you to play with when you want to."

"Oh but you are my play toy. You are whatever I want you to be. Do you know why?" He asked.

"Why?"

"Because all I have to do is whisper real close to your ear, like this," He moved even closer, "And tell you that I desire you in ways that would make any mama blush and cry out for improper topics to a lady."

You take in a ragged breath.

"Desire me?"

"Yes, why do you think I came out here to get you?"

"To get your mallet?"

"No, so I can have you."

" You are courting my sister to marry. I am done with this topic and I am leaving this garden. Good day, Lord Bridgerton."

---

Anthony was reeling. He couldn't stop thinking about you. He can't sleep at night because of you. It wasn't your fault. No, it was your fault. You were the one who kept reminding him of his soon to be proposal to your sister and putting him in his place. Heavens above, he couldn't help but be aroused when you put him where he was meant to be. And that perfume that you have, Jasmine and Lillies, god it did things to him.

---

The day had been hot, very hot and you knew that you shouldn't but you were burning for a swim in the lake. You couldn't help it. After being in the garden with the Viscount, it felt you aflame.

Sneaking out of your chambers, you made your way outside to the lake that rested toward the trees.

Looking around, you made sure that no one was up and you were making sure that you were not followed. You made your way to a tree and took off your coat. Yo began your task of unbuttoning your gown.

Anthony watched you remove each piece of fabric from your body as he made his way down to the lake himself. He had not known that you were going to be here. He had not expected it. He always goes for a midnight swim when he couldn't sleep. Why he couldn't sleep? You.

Slipping onto the dock, you take a dive, cold water enveloping your body. It felt heavenly against your heated skin. Anthony was never to be allowed to know that he was the reason behind the midnight swim in the lake. You swam to the middle and was sighing while looking up to the moon. The entire lake was lit by the moon, banishing all shadows from being cast onto your face. You looked angelic.

Anthony slipped in the water after stripping completely bare and went underwater. He wanted to see you move about when you were by yourself. He had wanted to see you nude, part of his mind begging him to see what you looked like, but you were still a lady and he was a gentleman.

You heard a splash and you turned around very quickly, spotting none other than Anthony Bridgerton. You knew you were caught and he would laugh at you but he just swam closer. You could only see his shoulders and water was dripping down them to be collected back to the lake.

"My lord-"

"I do believe that we are now way past formalities," He chuckled.

He was silently begging to hear his name fall from your lips. He knew this was wrong. You were his betrothed sister. You were a lady. You were innocent. If he took that from you, you would be ruined. But...but you looked so desirable. You looked just ready to be ravished by his mouth. To be tasted in places that you had never thought of to be touched. To be submitted to such incredible pleasure that Anthony knew that he could bring you. To be his.

He swam closer to you, grabbing your hand which he used to pull you until you were placing your hands on his shoulders to hold onto. You gasped at how warm he still was, even in the chilled water of the night. Anthony looked at you, smiling when he realizes that you move even closer, your legs brushing every time you move to keep yourselves afloat.

"I want you," He admits.

He kisses your lips, groaning when you kiss back only for a second before he feels himself being pushed away from you.

"You are engaged to my sister," You say.

"Not yet."

"But-"

"But, I want you. I don't want Edwina. I don't want Kate. I want you," He says, "I desire you."

Anthony kissed your lips once more, swallowing any sound coming from your mouth. His tongue brushed yours and you moaned. You had never done that but with Anthony, you felt so good you couldn't keep it inside.

Anthony had you wrap your legs around his waist, feeling something quite odd in between his legs but you didn't question it when he took your breast into his awaiting mouth. He sucked your nipple and ran his tongue around it as he teased you mercilessly. Your hair was down so it was hanging in the water as you threw your head back in bliss as he moved to bite at your collarbones and neck.

Anthony moved the two of you all the way to the dock, picking you up out of the water and seating you directly onto the hard wood. He then watches as you move back, suddenly aware of how exposed you are to him. He puts his hands on the dock and pushes himself out of the water, droplets trickling down his slightly hairy chest down to his now every noticeable something. You didn't know what on earth it could even be.

"What is that?" You said shyly, pointing to his hips.

"That would be my cock." He just chuckled.

"It looks hard," You said, "does it hurt?"

He groaned at your innocence. God, you were going to be the death of him. You looked so nervous to even ask and then when you did, you blushed deeply. You were so cute.

"It hurts some times when I desire someone really bad," He explained.

"Like Edwina? Did it ever hurt for Edwina or Kate?" You asked softly.

"No, never with them. I want you," He said, holding your face, "God, you consume every thought that I make. You make it so, so hard to be a gentleman. There is no way that I can escape you, no matter how hard I try because you are always in my mind."

He kissed you once more and you let him. You were going to forget about Edwina, who the man currently moving in between your legs and kissing every inch of your body, was supposed to get married to. You were going to forget the rules of being a proper lady. You were going to forget formalities and just revel in the pleasure that is being caused by the mouth of your sister's soon to be betrothed.

"Anthony!" You cried when he made contact with the little bud between your folds and he licked it. Your body was shot with electricity that sent your back to be arching.

He hummed against your core and went back to sucking on your clit. No one or nothing could have prepared you for the Viscount's tongue to slip inside of you. He had done so when you were pulling on his hair as you grasped for anything but you could not find anything to ground you. Anthony swept you away in pure pleasure as he ate you like a starved man. He drank anything your body was willing to give and he took it with a groan. His eyes rolled back as he tasted you.

"Oh, my lord-"

"It's Anthony. Just Anthony," He said before staring at your weeping cunt.

Your hands pulled at the man's hair and his other hand, that wasn't holding down your hips, moved up to grab a hold of your free hand that was gripping your breast. Your back arched when he made one last circle with his tongue on your clit and you burst with carnal desire. You shook against Anthony's mouth as he drank you in.

He thought you were so beautiful laying out for him, under the stars on his dock, wet hair after a late night swim and most of all, the way the moon shone down on you. You looked ever so innocent but oh so dirty.

"Are you okay?" He asked when he noticed you not moving but still shaking.

"I'm more than okay."

He laughed and began kissing up your body. His tongue poked out every once and a while as he traveled up to your mouth. The taste of yourself was erotic. You had never known something could exist. Anthony moved on top of you and positioned himself so that his cock would rest between your sensitive folds. He had to contain himself so that he wouldn't cum right on the spot.

You gave him a nod before he claimed your lips as he pushed himself inside your waiting body. You moaned out loud before you started panting against Anthony's mouth as the two of you tried to adjust to the sudden feeling. His arms shook as his head fell onto your chest as your hand ran through his hair, pulling slightly.

"Are you ready for me to move because if you aren't that's okay but I really need to move?" Water trickled down his body as he held himself above you, looking down at you.

"Please, Anthony." He smiled at his name and started to slowly pull out, letting you feel every ridge and vein his dick possessed and you were enjoying it. Anthony thrusted back in and your head fell back against the wooden dock. As Anthony thrusted his cock in and out of you, the only things that could be heard was your labored breathing and the sounds of your bodies moving against each other as the two of you reached new heights together and the sound of crickets chirping in the grass.

"Oh, god you feel so good," Anthony groaned.

"So fucking good," You panted, hips rising to match his. You were chasing something but you didn't know what. You didn't even know what was happening when your muscles started to tighten and some kind of euphoria started to crash down on you.

Anthony's breathing got caught in his throat as he watched your face contort in pleasure as he pumped himself constantly in you, trying to reach his end. He looked at your blissful face and decided that you would give him another.

"Just one more, darling, and then I can fill you up real nice." His hand went in between your legs as he watched himself move inside and out of you. His thumb began circling your clit, his cock hitting the right spots every time, his face tightening in desirable lust as he held himself above you, moving faster, trying to make you cum for a third time before he got his.

"Oh, Anthony!" You moan before he places a kiss on your lips to silence you. You cum one last time and Anthony unloads himself completely in you once bottoming out inside you. You laid there with him as he felt the aftershocks of his orgasm and you shuddered at the sudden cold.

Anthony kisses you lazily as he feels you giggle against his lips when he sighs into you. He pulls out and then shudders at the cold.

"I think we should go get some nice warm milk and sit by the fire to warm up," He proposes.

"Won't we get caught?"

"Darling, we just had sex on the dock in front of my house and you are worried about getting caught with some milk by the fire?" He laughed.

"Well, I can't be seen with you alone."

"Fine, but let's get dressed and go inside so we can sleep."

"In the same room?" You ask in a quiet voice.

"Not yet. We might get caught."

"Maybe getting caught wouldn't be so bad then," You giggle when you see his bare ass.

"Oh you are a little minx," Anthony groans.

"Maybe," You gasp when he picks you up after you get dressed and then carries you inside.

He takes you to your room and puts you down so you can stand. He doesn't want to let go but he knows he needs to leave soon.

''Good night, Miss Sharma." He said with a kiss.

"Good night, Lord Bridgerton," You sigh against his lips.

The kiss is passionate but is cut short when the clock decided to strike three and make a loud noise. You both laugh and he sees you close the door and he then walks to his chambers.

He finally can go to sleep with a smile on his face. A smile that didn't disappear the following day until he realized that he had to propose to your sister, Edwina Sharma.

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katsu28 · 9 months

Text

through the lens

pairing: jamie tartt x reader

summary: a richmond win, a trip to ola’s, and a camera is all it takes to find out how jamie tartt really feels about you

warnings: swearing ofc, reader is afc richmond's team photographer, 2.5k

a/n: humbly inviting begging anyone and everyone to drop ted lasso requests from this list or this one in my inbox <3 i write for jamie, roy, sam, dani, and isaac! now pls enjoy the result of my jamie tartt brainrot

The atmosphere in the locker room was positively electric.

AFC Richmond was fresh off their first win in a very long time, and everyone was beyond ecstatic, buzzing with residual adrenaline and pride on a game well played. All the players were in a huddle in the center of the room, jumping at each other with nothing but pure joy in their eyes.

All you could do was try your best to capture the moment without getting in the way of the festivities, which you somehow managed by climbing up onto one of the benches in front of the lockers as you snapped picture after picture of the team getting their celebration on. Nobody really paid you any mind throughout, until you turned your camera on one Jamie Tartt, who was already looking right at you the second your viewfinder focused on him.

He beamed, lifted his hand up in a small wave, and for a split second you thought he might’ve started to make his way over to you, but he was caught on the shoulder and redirected by an overjoyed Dani Rojas. You swiveled away from Jamie and towards where Colin and Isaac had started some sort of chant that you could barely make out over the ruckus.

Focusing on them gave you the chance to let your heart rate settle back down after sharing that split second moment with Jamie. It was pathetic, really—pining over someone like him.

More of a silly little crush than anything, you knew it would never lead to anything because you’d rather a sinkhole open up in the middle of the road and swallow you up than tell Jamie that you liked him. But that didn’t stop your feelings for him from growing. He’d come back to AFC Richmond someone different—sweet and empathetic and the biggest supporter of his fellow Greyhounds—which made it that much harder to keep your crush under wraps.

Hell, Keeley had figured it out within weeks of his return and accidentally let it slip to Roy. He’d very gruffly assured you that he hadn’t told a soul, but you were sure that the whole team knew about it by now. Everyone except Jamie. You’d never been so glad for his thick head.

“Alright, I know y’all are excited about the win, I am too but listen up!” Coach Lasso’s voice cut through the commotion, hands waving over his head to get his players’ attention. At the drop of a hat, every single one of them fell quiet, eagerly awaiting what their beloved coach had to say.

You were looking forward to it too, not only because a Lasso signature speech was always a great opportunity to get raw, unfiltered photos of the team, but because he always had something positive to say, no matter what the outcome on the pitch had been. The amount of love and care Ted Lasso had for his players was his strong suit, and it showed in everyone’s respect for him.

“I’m real proud of what all y’all did out there on the pitch tonight. I know I say that after every match and I mean it every time, but this one is just a little bit sweeter. I appreciate every single one of you boys more than you could imagine,” He continued, looking to address each person. They looked like kids again, giddy with glee as they soaked in their coach’s praise.

You took shot after shot of everyone in the moment, so enveloped in your craft that you didn’t notice someone had come to stand beside you until you let your camera hang. That was when you noticed Jamie, inching closer with an innocent look on his face until he saw you looking down at him.

“Hiya,” He said, playfully nudging your leg with a cheeky smile. “Gettin’ a good view up there?”

“Shouldn’t you be listening to your coach?” You shot back, fighting the urge to pick your camera back up and take a shot of his lopsided grin and stupidly endearing twinkle in his eye as he looked up at you.

“Nothin’ I haven’t heard before.” Jamie shrugged, but he turned back around to look at Ted.

Even though he wasn’t paying attention to you, it was hard not to pay attention to him. That was a problem you’d increasingly been running into, not being able to focus when Jamie was around. You thought you’d had it under wraps, but it seemed like you’d developed a sixth sense for whenever he wandered into your vicinity. And lately, that sense had been pinging a lot more than usual.

Maybe you were reading too much into things, but it seemed like Jamie had been popping up everywhere you went in the facility. Granted, it was mainly the pitch and the locker room hallways, but it flustered you all the same. One brief conversation about even something mundane like weekend plans or the weather paired with a smile and a cheeky wink before he disappeared around a corner and you were left wondering what you’d been doing in the first place.

Ted was closing out his speech by the time you’d remembered you were actually supposed to be doing your job right now. You jerked out of your thoughts, snapping a few photos of the coaching staff before he finished up for the night. “Now go ahead and let loose, golden goose!”

“I’m pretty sure it is geese, Coach,” Sam chimed in, giving him a good natured smile.

“You know what I mean! Go have some fun, celebrate, all that jazz. But not too much fun because I expect to be seein’ y’all bright and early tomorrow morning for practice. Remember, the early bird gets the worm! See, I know I did that one right.” With that, Ted waved the team off, retreating back into the coaches’ office with Coach Beard on his heels and leaving them with all their pent up energy.

“Sam says we’re all going to Ola’s to celebrate!” Bumbercatch exclaimed, drawing a roar of approval from the rest of the team.

“You comin’ with us?” Jamie asked you hopefully, tilting his head to the side a bit. Warmth bloomed on your cheeks at the prospect of him wanting you to tag along. “Catch the festivities, give the people what they want?”

Oh. He was asking because you were their photographer. Not for the other foolishly hopeful reason you were thinking of. Of course.

“Yeah, I’ll tag along. Gotta catch you boys in your natural habitat, don’t I?”

Jamie’s mouth lifted into a cool smirk. “‘Course you do. You can catch a ride with me, if you want.”

“Oh! Um, only if it’s not too much trouble.” You could only hope you didn’t sound as breathless as you felt.

He nodded, extending a hand up towards you to help you down from your perch. You accepted it maybe a bit too eagerly, because your step down from the bench put you a little closer to Jamie than you’d planned, barely a few inches between the two of you. You swore you almost stopped breathing when his chest brushed against yours as he inhaled a sharp breath. You forced yourself to meet his gaze, and it almost looked like he was as stunned as you.

You both mumbled an apology, words tumbling over each other messily as you stepped apart. His hand flew up to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. Yours went straight for your camera, busying yourself with a few random buttons as if it were a defense mechanism. Neither of you could look at the other for a good while, not until you got into Jamie’s car and were on the way to Ola’s to meet the rest of the team.

“So. What’d you think of the game?”

“S’good! You did great, Jamie,” You exclaimed, excited now. It was true, Jamie had been on fire tonight with a goal and two assists. “All of you did great.”

“Should I pose for ya next time? Give ya a proper action shot?“ He sounded only half joking. “M’trusting you to make me look good, y’know!”

“Posing is overrated. I like the shots I get when you lot get out there on the pitch. They’re natural.”

“But what if I make a stupid face when I pass the ball? Those can’t be any good.”

“They’re called candids, and I happen to think they look better than your promotional shots.”

“Bullshit! I looked sexy in those shots and you know it.”

While he wasn’t wrong, you had a point to prove now. Taking a deep breath, you counted to three in your head before picking your camera back up, swiveling in your seat and snapping one, two, three pictures of him.

Jamie’s brow furrowed at the shutter clicks, giving you a confused glance over in your direction. “Oi! What’s that for?”

“That’s a candid.” You said simply, ignoring your heart pounding a million miles a minute against your ribcage. You flicked through the photos, pleased to see that they’d come out just as you suspected—perfect.

“Not even getting my good angle, some photographer you are,” He muttered, giving his head an overexaggerated shake.

“All your angles are good, Jamie,” You scoffed. “And you don’t need me to make you look good, ‘cause you’re doing it just fine on your own.” You didn’t realize what you’d said until a beat later when he looked extremely delighted, but every part of what you said was true.

Even caught off guard and driving, Jamie Tartt looked unfairly good. The lights off the dashboard washed over his handsome face in a warm light, making him look softer than the harsh lights of Nelson Road did.

On the football pitch, he was tough and cocky, mouthing off to opposing team with the sole purpose of getting under their skin, and the lighting reflected that. He was Jamie Tartt, a striker with a right foot kissed by God, one of the greatest footballers in Richmond history. In this car, here with just the two of you, he was at ease. His guard was down, his facade gone. He was just Jamie Tartt, a boy from Manchester. That was the Jamie you’d grown some not-so-small feelings for.

Ola’s was definitely quieter than any pub in Richmond would’ve been, though you suspected that the team rather enjoyed it this way. They loved and appreciated their fans, but it was nice to be surrounded by friends as opposed to being gawked at the whole night. Even so, someone had turned on music with a heavy beat that thumped through the restaurant and everyone was having a good time.

It was the perfect opportunity to grab a few more quick shots of the team and you took it gratefully, milling around the place for a bit snapping pictures here and there before coming back to your seat to flick through everything. You had to see what you could give the PR team to put on Richmond’s socials.

A pint of beer slid in front of you drew you away from your camera, but it was mostly the smiling Jamie who’d slid into the chair next to you. He leaned in a little closer to be heard over the chatter of the restaurant, bracing his arm on the back of your chair.

“D’you ever stop working?”

“Meaning?”

“Nothin’ bad! I just mean…every time I see ya you’re nose deep in that camera, barely get t’see your face.”

“The point of my job is to see your face, not mine,” You joked, growing more nervous at the way he was looking at you, like he meant he actually wanted to see your face more instead. Jamie’s expression softened into something fond, knee bumping against yours gently, fingers brushing against your shoulder. His touch sent a feeling not unlike static shock through you, racing through your veins and sending your heart thundering loudly in your ears.

You were suddenly aware of just how close he was to you and leaning closer still, so close you could see a smudge of dirt from the pitch on his neck that he’d missed, the flecks of gray in his blue eyes.

“S’shame. Got a face too pretty to be behind the lens all the time. Prettier than mine, even.”

“Stop it,” You mumbled, but there was no real force behind your words. Jamie thought you were pretty. It made you feel giddy inside.

“No, you stop it. You’re stunnin’.” He insisted, looking entirely sincere.

“You’re just saying that.”

“M’not. I mean it.” Jamie shook his head vehemently. You pressed your lips together, denying it still. “You don’t believe me. Here,” He was quick to grab your camera off the table carefully, leaning back a bit and hitting the shutter button determinedly. You’d barely managed to stretch an arm over your face before the flash went off. He squinted at the tiny screen, studying it for a few seconds before smiling proudly.

“Think I finally know what’s so good about those candids you keep talkin’ about. That one’s a keeper.” He was firm in his words, turning the camera around to show you the picture he’d taken. Part of your face was obscured by your outstretched hand, but you could see most of your smile and a gleam in your eyes that you didn’t know you had until this very moment. You liked it.

“D’you wanna go on a date with me sometime?” He asked hopefully, fiddling with the edges of his shirtsleeves. Warmth flooded your cheeks in an instant. “A proper one, where I can come by yours and ring your doorbell and give you flowers and all that shit.”

“Someone give Lust Conquers All a ring, ‘cause Jamie Tartt is a changed man!” You shouldn’t have been cracking jokes right now. It definitely wasn’t the time, but you couldn’t help yourself. It escaped before you could take it back.

But Jamie just rolled his eyes playfully, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah, alright, have a laugh. You didn’t say yes.”

“I also didn’t say no.” You pointed out, scooting a few inches closer to him. He returned the gesture, sliding towards you until your knees pressed together. You were inches away from each other, again, but this time it was different. This time, you knew how he felt about you.

“That’s still not a yes.” He said softly, so quiet you wouldn’t have heard it had you not been as close to him as you were right now.

You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek and his eyes fluttered shut. “How’s that for a yes?”

“S’good. Missed the mark though. Should be more like…” He trailed off, sneaking a quick peck to your lips before grinning sheepishly. “That.”

“Sneaky boy.” You rolled your eyes, but your tone was anything but annoyed. “Good thing you’re cute.”

He preened at your compliment, giving a little self satisfied smile. “And a good photographer?”

“Decent. If football doesn’t pan out, maybe I could make you my assistant.”

“That mean I get to spend all day with you?”

“If you can handle it.”

Jamie’s lips quirked up into a soft smile and he kissed you again, a little longer this time. His hand moved up your shoulder around the back of your neck tenderly, a blooming warmth against your skin. “I’ll manage.”

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#someone tell me to go to bed #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt fic #jamie tartt x fem!reader #jamie tartt fluff #jamie tartt one shot #jamie tartt imagine

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bosbas · 5 months

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Chapter 4: the more that you say, the less I know

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: benedict bridgerton x best friend!fem!reader WC: 3.4k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love being idiots in love, angst, alluding to sex but no one actually talks about it

Summary: You and Benedict have been best friends since childhood, but things change dramatically once you come out in society. You're struggling to find someone you're as compatible with and who knows you as well as Benedict, all while trying to quell your ever-growing feelings for him. Shenanigans ensue.

A/N: ummmm if you saw me change this from OFC to reader insert... no u didn't<3 also me making an f1 reference teehee i couldn't help myself

May 23, 1814 - At yesterday's ball hosted by the illustrious Cowper family, one could not help but notice Miss Cressida Cowper, whose ethereal gown left onlookers in awe. Rumors abound that the delicate fabric, allegedly from the Far East, lent an air of exotic allure to her ensemble. However, the discerning eye might notice a subtle familiarity. A striking resemblance, one might say, to a certain gown worn by Daphne Bridgerton, now Duchess of Hastings, in the previous season. Perhaps the secrets of this so-called rare silk are not as elusive as the Cowpers would have us believe.

Despite the "exotic" nature of Miss Cowper's dress, Miss Y/N Beaumont took center stage in the Cowper's ballroom. Miss Beaumont has seamlessly transitioned from the limelight of debutante to the darling of London society. But last night saw a notable shift in Miss Beaumont's approach to the season. Despite numerous suitors vying for her favor, Y/N spent most of her time in the company of her dear friend, Penelope, and the comforting presence of her mother, Countess Beaumont. Was the ton's selection of gentlemen not up to Miss Beaumont's standards?

A deep sigh left your lips. You crumpled up Lady Whistledown's column and placed it on your bedside table, already feeling a headache coming in. The previous night's ball had been somewhat of a disaster for you, and you were doing well not to think about it too much. You didn't know what was wrong with you. All the boys had been perfect gentlemen, some even making you laugh. Yet, the aftermath of each dance left you feeling disheartened, a sentiment you couldn't easily shake off. At least Lady Whistledown hadn't mentioned that your dance card was populated only with the names of Colin and Anthony Bridgerton. It would have also included your brothers' names had they not been away on some hunting escapade.

Realistically, you knew you should be disappointed that only a handful of hopeful bachelors showed up to see you today, bouquets and poems in tow, but you couldn't quite bring yourself to feel bad. Truthfully, you just missed Ben. He had been gone for about five days now, and you were pretty miserable without him by your side. The gnawing sensation in your stomach, an instinctual search for him in a crowd only to be met with the reality of his absence, had become an inconvenient routine.

Ben was consuming your thoughts. Your best friend had been gone for days at a time before, but this time was different. You missed the sly smiles he sent your way when one of your brothers said something particularly preposterous. You missed his rambling about art while you had your head comfortably in his lap. You missed his small touches, a hand on the small of your back, or a bump of your shoulders when he sensed you needed reassurance. But most of all, you missed having him nearby, feeling the warmth and comfort of his glowing presence. Perhaps with Benedict by your side, you would have navigated the challenges of the ballroom last night more successfully. Surely, he would notice his best friend feeling anxious and uncomfortable, ready with a witty remark to make you smile and dispel your nerves. But he hadn't been there, and you had floundered trying to connect with men who sought different things in a marriage. You were feeling especially tender tonight, a painful mix of anger, disappointment, and frustration plaguing you. You were surprised by how quickly the novelty of your debut had worn off, and you were left with a gaping Benedict Bridgerton-sized hole in your heart.

In your childhood, the two of you dreamed up a future together, one where you could pursue your literary passions, and Ben could lose himself in his art. Those innocent dreams felt like distant echoes now, and how you yearned for the excitement with which you drafted these plans. To you, that was still the perfect partnership. But none of the gentlemen you had met so far shared an even remotely similar vision. A small part of you secretly wished Benedict was ready to marry, or better yet, ready to marry you. But reality dictated otherwise. Benedict had likely moved on, envisioning a new definition of marital bliss, leaving you with an aching heart and a future devoid of prospects.

A particularly unpleasant train of thought came to your mind, and you found yourself wondering how Benedict was coping. Surely the countryside was a more pleasant experience than the stuffy ballrooms of the ton, but as he was out enjoying the fresh air, did his thoughts circle back to you? Did he regret missing your debut? Or were you merely an afterthought in his countryside musings?

A knock on your door interrupted your swirling thoughts, momentarily diverting the chaos within your mind. You smiled upon seeing your mother's soft features peek through the door.

"Hello, Mum. Is everything alright?"

"I believe I should be asking you that, actually," Countess Beaumont replied carefully, making her way over to your bed. Of course, Primrose had noticed the astounding lack of gentleman callers at their home this morning, a phenomenon you couldn't attribute to your elder siblings dissuading potential suitors.

In turn, you were feeling an acute uneasiness. You knew this conversation would come, but you were not prepared in the slightest. Questions about your altered demeanor had you nervously wringing your hands, avoiding your mother's gaze. Sensing her daughter's distress, Primrose sat beside you, holding your hands and gently squeezing them in hers. The comforting gesture stilled you and brought your eyes to finally meet your mother's.

"I apologize; I did not mean to–" you began, then cleared your throat, changing your answer. "When you met Father, you were both completely enamored since the beginning, correct?"

"Well, perhaps not the very beginning. But after one conversation, yes." Prim laughed, remembering her first meeting with her husband.

"Exactly. I just don't think I'll have something like that. And I know you wanted me to find a love match, but for the life of me, I haven't found someone I'm compatible with, let alone someone who wants to have an actual conversation with me!"

Primrose probed further with utmost tenderness in her voice, mindful of your vulnerable state. "Is that what worries you? Not finding someone right away?"

You sensed that your mother hadn't come to reprimand you for turning away almost all eligible bachelors the night before, or at least, that was no longer the primary intention. No longer feeling defensive, you began articulating your tumultuous thoughts.

"Partially. Lady Whistledown has certainly done me no favors. She set the bar up so high that now if I don't find someone incredible or appropriately titled or very quickly, I fear the whole ton will be disappointed. Lady Whistledown will certainly make her disappointment known. But my life is not a plot line to be used for the ton's gossip sheet. At least not to me. As a woman, choosing who to marry is the most crucial choice I can make about my future, and the only one I will be able to make at all if I marry the wrong person."

Your throat was growing impossibly tight, and your headache was worsening as you tried to assuage the rising anxiety deep in your chest. "I am terrified of squandering this opportunity, of choosing the wrong person and ending up miserable and bored, of not being able to find love so soon and disappointing you and Father–" You cut yourself off with a sob, tears freely running down your reddened cheeks now. Your mother held you in her arms, waiting for the tears to subside before offering reassurance.

After a moment, the countess gently broke the silence, "Those are all very reasonable fears. I was your age when I met your father, but before then, I was feeling very similar to you. Granted, there was no Lady Whistledown sheet at the time, but the ton's gossip still spread with astonishing speed. Darling, believe me, there's nothing to fear. It's more than acceptable if you haven't found a suitable match yet. In fact, it's quite expected. Your father and I were unique, but most connections take time to develop."

Although you now felt much calmer, lingering anxieties still circled your mind. "But what if there is no connection? I haven't felt anything at all with anyone I've talked to so far, so how can I build a marriage from that?"

A sympathetic smile grew on your mother's lips. "That's quite alright. If you don't find a match this year, you can try again next season. But consider you and Benedict, for instance. Two completely opposite children were brought together because you were left out when both families got together. Now you're best friends, practically inseparable," she replied.

You looked on thoughtfully, once again losing yourself in thoughts of your childhood promises to Ben. Pushing the painful thoughts away and tucking them into a small corner of your brain, you continued your questioning.

"I suppose. But I truly can't imagine marrying anyone I met at the Cowper's ball or even anyone at Queen Charlotte's ball. And last night, I heard Alex commenting on the 'night of the marriage' like it was some big event, so now there's one more thing I must worry about when looking for a husband."

Prim felt her heartbeat falter, shock and fury coloring her features. "The wedding night? Alex said this to you?" she managed to eke out.

Sensing you had ventured into uncomfortable territory but unsure where, you hastily responded, "No, no, I overheard him talking about it with someone else. I don't even know what the marriage night is or why it's so important."

Prim let out a breath, somewhat calmed. However, relief was short-lived as you probed further into the details of the marriage night. The countess was frozen, unprepared for this topic, especially so early in the season. But her nervous energy only fueled your curiosity.

After a faltering attempt to form a coherent sentence, Prim cleared her throat and tried again. "The marriage night is an... intimate moment between a married couple. If you marry the right man, which I am sure you will, it will be very enjoyable indeed. Fun, even, so it is nothing to worry about."

"But what happens exactly?" you pressed, curiosity undiminished.

With a sense of finality, your mother responded, "Y/N, I know you have a curious mind, but it is too early for you to know the intricacies right now. The night of the marriage is a wonderful thing for a couple to experience, and that is the only thing you need to know. For now, enjoy the butterflies and keep being excited about your season. There is still much to look forward to. Like Alexander said, the men are there to court you, not the other way around. I apologize if I got a bit overexcited initially, but trust that we are all here for you and will support whichever decision you make." And with that, the subject was closed, and you sensed that further inquiries would only irritate your mother instead of answering your endless questions about this new concept.

---

"Ben!" came your delighted squeal from across the Beaumonts' garden, where you had previously been sitting with a book in your lap. Now, you were running at full speed toward your best friend, overjoyed to have him back. The impropriety of your run was momentarily forgotten in the sheer happiness of having him back.

Reaching Benedict, you felt yourself being swept up in a tight hug, the arms around your waist immediately bringing a comfort you had not felt since before Queen Charlotte's ball. He gently placed you back on the ground but couldn't find it in himself to let go of you completely. He placed his hands on your shoulders, looking you up and down and trying to take you in as much as possible.

"You've grown quite a bit since I last saw you. Six days, has it been? And already you're almost as tall as me," Ben teased, a charming smile on his face. He hoped his joking demeanor would mask the overwhelming fondness that surged within him. The countryside had been miserable, to say the least. The arrangements to purchase the cottage had gone relatively smoothly, and he could have returned after barely a day and a half away. But he forced himself to remain in the country, not wanting to potentially infringe on his best friend's debut. Despite the sleepless nights and restless days, he resisted the urge to return. What he did not resist, and in fact plagued his mind constantly, were thoughts about his aforementioned best friend. He constantly thought of you, dancing at a ball with a good-for-nothing bachelor, or being flirted with by prospective husbands, or worse, flirting back. Benedict had erroneously thought that his time away in the countryside might have quelled the dull ache in his chest, having instead the opposite effect. But now that he was here, with you looking radiant as ever standing right in front of him, he felt his mind quiet down, relishing in the comfort brought by your presence.

You rolled your eyes and smiled, your affection for Benedict shining through even when feigning annoyance. "Hmm, well, you seem to have shrunk during your time away. Most peculiar," you retorted, easily falling back into your familiar banter.

The two of you walked side by side toward the far end of the garden, where your open book had been left hastily abandoned in the grass. Though there was constant chatter between you, Benedict very pointedly avoided inquiring about your coming out, opting to let you broach the once-sensitive topic at your own pace. But six days devoid of an eager audience for your literary escapades left you yearning to share your thoughts on the thrilling novel that had consumed every one of your moments outside of ballrooms and entertaining callers. And Benedict was more than happy to listen. Seating himself on the soft grass beside your forgotten book, he listened intently and interjected whenever appropriate.

Eventually, you had talked all there was to talk about a 300-page book and chose instead to lean on Ben as you read aloud to him from your current novel. On his end, Benedict was all too aware of your head on his shoulder, your voice carrying a soothing cadence. It was easy to get lost in it. He realized he would miss moments like these once you were married. Since childhood, you had been reading to him in this garden, and it would all be over by the end of the season. But of course, the dull ache he was feeling was because he would miss you after you wed. No other reason.

You suddenly set your book down, finally ready to talk about the elephant in the room. "I spoke with my mother last night. About marriage and the like," you looked over at Benedict, searching his face for any clue about what he might be feeling. His eyebrows shot up, and he nodded for you to continue talking, eager to listen to what you had to say.

"It was quite wonderful, actually; I think a lot of the pressure I was feeling has been relieved," you said with a smile, and I felt Ben relax next to you. Encouraged by another nod and Benedict's murmur of That's good, you continued, recounting the previous night's conversation with Primrose with great detail, conveniently leaving out the part where your mother had used you and Ben as an example of a good connection formed over time.

"Well, I suppose she's rather right, isn't she? Most of us aren't going to fall in love at first sight. Friendships work that way too; look at us," Benedict remarked, and you couldn't help but internally laugh at the fact that he had brought up your connection on his own.

Maintaining the brisk pace of the conversation, you continued, "Yes, exactly, she also said that. And by then, I had calmed down quite considerably, so I asked her about the marriage night and told her that I didn't know what it was but asked if I should worry about that as well."

Benedict choked, quickly masking it with a cough as he swallowed thickly. The marriage night? How on earth did you know about that? He subtly adjusted his sitting position, nodding at you to continue. "And what did she say to that?" he struggled out.

"She chastised me for even knowing what it was, of course, but I had overheard Alex talking about it, so she can't really be upset with me at that, can she? Anyhow, she refused to tell me what it was," you glanced at Ben, your expression expectant. He chuckled, gesturing for you to continue, resisting the temptation to elaborate. He knew that explanation should come from a mother to a daughter or perhaps from a husband to a wife, but certainly not from him. He still felt his senses heightened, knowing this conversation was going into unexplored, not to mention forbidden, territory between a proper lady such as yourself and a self-proclaimed rake such as himself. He was acutely aware of the proximity of your knee to his leg, and a subtle heat crept up his neck.

Disappointed but undeterred, you pushed on, "Well, she said it was going to be enjoyable. If I choose the right husband, of course. Ben, are you sure you can't tell me? Not even a clue? My mother's response was quite unsatisfactory. What does she mean 'fun'? Why will the marriage night be 'fun'? Does she mean the kind of fun like when I'm playing pall mall? Or the kind of fun when you take me on nature walks at Aubrey Hall? Why will no one talk to me about this?"

Ben was, quite suddenly and very wholly, overtaken by a heat he felt everywhere that was traveling down his stomach. He could sense that you were exasperated, but he needed a moment to recover from you comparing sleeping with someone to something the two of you did. Benedict felt his heartbeat in his ears and couldn't tear his eyes away from your lips, pursed in frustration. Lips that looked awfully kissable, if he were to be completely honest. His breathing quickened, and he was actively fighting the desire he felt for the girl in front of him, keeping his hands rigid by his sides to avoid touching you in the way he wanted to. He groaned internally from both the intensity of the feeling and the effort of holding it back. His mind was elsewhere, in a candlelit room with you in a nightgown or perhaps a towel, but he knew he had to answer in a semi-normal way, if possible. He blinked quickly and met your eyes, narrowed and expectant.

"It's really not my place, Y/N. The countess would kill me twice if she knew I had talked about this with you at all, let alone told you what it was," he answered finally. However, the immediate drop in your expression made him feel awful, and he was desperate to alleviate the frown on your face.

"Alright," he relented, "what your mother said was true; it will most likely be fun, given you marry the right man. And, um..." Ben scrambled to find a delicate way to explain the night of the marriage without risking a duel with Alexander Beaumont. "It's not like Pall Mall," he said after a pause. "It's more like... scratching an itch? It'll feel fulfilling, hopefully."

You put your head in your hands clearly through attempting to get anything out of him. "Scratching an itch? What does that even mean?" you exclaimed.

Ben would've laughed at the scene had he not still been feeling out of sorts from the previous conversation. He was astounded and a little embarrassed that he had had such an intense reaction to the slightest mention of the marriage night. He shook his head, trying unsuccessfully to get rid of the thoughts running through his mind. This, he reasoned, was precisely why he was a rake. Evidently, he wasn't ready to marry and needed more time in his rakish ways to get it out of his system. Wiping his brow and eager to redirect his thoughts, he turned to you once again, launching into a detailed explanation of the beautiful countryside landscapes he had seen while away and how he was going to paint them.

---

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mrsevans90 · 2 months

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Puppy Love

Captain Syverson x OFC Emma Miller Part 14

Summary: Austin Syverson has returned to Texas after retiring from the military and starts his own contracting business. Syverson is used to being alone and thinks he prefers it that way. While at work he stumbles upon an injured and abused puppy. When he meets the new veterinarian in town, Emma Miller, he is immediately smitten with her. It turns out Emma has some baggage of her own. Will they be able to make it work? Or is it just a case of fleeting puppy love?

Pairing: Henry Cavill as Captain Austin Syverson x OFC Emma Miller

Warnings: Violence, attempted kidnapping, stalking, injured arm, mention of weapon, nightmares, angst, period care, fear, anxious Sy, police officers, language

MINORS DNI! Must be 18+

I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own.

This story is not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

A/N: I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. All that I ask is to please be kind and if you enjoy it then please comment and REPOST! I appreciate any love, comments, and reposts more than you could know. Thank you for reading!

Part 13

My heart immediately sinks to the pit of my stomach and in an instant, I’m running. It feels like minutes as I run watching Colin’s slimy hands wrapped around Emma’s chest from behind as she fights to defend herself. He is gripping her wrist tightly as he pins it to her chest and she’s twisting and yelling, but I can no longer hear her screams over my own raging thoughts. He looks up as my thundering steps approach just as Emma bites his hand.

“Ouch! You bitch!” He screams at Emma and I use his moment of distraction to rip Emma from his arms. I push her behind me away from Colin and without another thought, I rare back and punch him square in the nose. The force behind that punch was enough to split my knuckles but I don’t hesitate to follow his body to the ground and hit him again. Hard. As hard as I can. I’m completely lost in my rage as the only sound I hear being the blood rushing past my ears as my adrenaline pumps throughout my body. A large hand lands on my shoulder and I’m about to turn and fight whoever has dared to touch me in this state when I recognize Mr. Ellis. Mr. Ellis is a friend of my PawPaw’s and similar in age to him which gives me momentary pause. When did he get here?

“Son, he’s out cold. You’ve gotta stop now.” Mr. Ellis gestures to Colin’s body which is crumpled on the hot asphalt of the parking lot.

“I… he was…” I attempt to organize my thoughts but I can’t.

“I know, Sy. I saw. I saw him trying to snatch that girl and I was getting my gun out of the glovebox when you came running up. Didn’t think I could take him alone. I’ve already called 911 and they’re on their way.” Mr. Ellis talks to me like I’m a caged predator and I realize, that’s exactly how I feel. God, it felt so good to split my hand open on his face. To feel just an ounce of the pain I’d like to inflict upon him. I maybe only got two good hits in before Mr. Ellis stopped me, but I made them count judging from the blood seeping on the ground from Colin’s obvious broken nose. I hear a sniffle and whip around to see Emma sitting on her bottom leaned up against a dark colored car with tears streaking noiselessly down her face.

Oh God, Emma.

Despite protest from my bum leg, I clamber up and over to her. She’s holding her right wrist with her hand and looks absolutely petrified.

“Sugar, I’m here. I’m so sorry.” I apologize. I want to apologize for her seeing me like this, for leaving her alone, for not getting there soon enough, the list is endless.

“Austin…” She whimpers and I wrap my arms around her, pulling her into my lap on the asphalt. Sirens are getting louder as police and EMT’s swarm the grocery store parking lot.

“I was…sso…scared.” She hiccups between sobs and I feel my heart absolutely shatter.

“I know, Sugar. You were so brave. You were incredible. I’m so sorry.”

EMT’s quickly rush to Colin’s side where he remains unconscious as they transfer him to a stretcher. Much to my dismay, according to the vitals they were shouting, he’s still alive.

I know several of the police officers and they agree to call Walt for me. Following protocol, they still have to separate Emma and I to hear the versions of our story to piece together what happened. I refused any care for my hand, as the throbbing in my knuckles felt like the perfect reminder that I gave Colin what he was asking for. As a second EMT is taking a look at Emma’s wrist, a police officer that I knew from the ball field in high school named Keith allows me to say goodbye to Emma before driving me to the station for questioning.

“Is it broken?” I ask the EMT.

“There’s a possibility of a hairline fracture. We won’t know until she gets an x-ray but Ms. Miller doesn��t want to go to the hospital.” She tells me.

“Emma, baby. Go to the hospital and get it checked out.”

“I’ll give myself an x-ray at the clinic and if it’s broken I’ll call an ortho doc, but first I’m going to answer the police officer’s questions at the station.”

“Sugar, I”

“Austin, I don’t want to go to the hospital where he will be. I want to go where you are going.” There it is. She doesn’t want to be in the same building with him and I don’t blame her.

“Okay, I understand. Are you in pain?”

“I’ll be fine.” She says as she stands up and a female officer joins us.

“We have to ride separately because of their protocol, but Walt has been called and I’ll send him directly to you so you won’t be alone, alright Darlin’?”

She nods and I kiss her gently.

“I love you, and I’ll be with you as soon as they let me.”

“I love you too.” She says with a forced smile. God, I don't want to leave her.

I follow Keith to his cruiser and he allows me to sit in the passenger seat.

I call PawPaw on the way and explain what happened before I ask him to go get my truck from the parking lot since he has my spare keys, that’s full of groceries and take them home for me before dropping my truck at the police station. Nothing surprises that man as he just agrees, tells me that he’ll take the dogs back with him so not to rush and to call him when I can.

I also call Walt and he promises that he’s almost at the station and he’ll go straight to Emma when he arrives. He’s a homicide detective so this isn’t even remotely a part of his job description, but he’s well respected in the community and someone I trust entirely so I want him by Emma’s side until I can be.

We arrive at the police department where I’m placed in a monitored room for about twenty minutes before an older man comes into question me. I explain to him exactly who Colin was, Emma’s history and fear of him, and my actions when I walked out of the store. The investigator surmises that my story matches the witness testimony that was given by Mr. Ellis as well as a young mother who was walking into the store when Colin grabbed Emma.

“I can confirm that the suspect is conscious now at the hospital, but you should know there is a strong possibility he attempts to press charges against you for assault.”

I scoff. “I dare him to try.” I say truthfully and the detective just leans back in his chair.

“You’re a big guy compared to him. What was going through your head?”

“I probably would have killed him if Mr. Ellis didn’t stop me. He was trying to take the love of my life. Someone he abused physically, verbally and mentally for years before I met her. I was not going to allow that to happen.”

“Off the books of course, I’d probably do the exact same if someone came after my wife or daughter, so I don’t blame you.” He said with a smirk.

“Can I see her?”

“She’s still being questioned but I can show you where to wait.”

“Walt with her?” I ask.

“He hasn’t left her side, which is unusual but Walt’s taking good care of her.

After waiting for what felt like forever, Emma finally emerges from the room she was in with Walt right behind her. Her arm is wrapped in a temporary brace as she cradles it to her abdomen.

“Austin.” She says with a visible relief as I wrap my arms around her and she cuddles into my chest.

“Thank you, Walt.” I shake his hand while not removing my arms from Emma’s body.

“Not a problem. She did well. We’re pressing charges against the suspect for attempted kidnapping and stalking, in addition to the violation of the restraining order. He won’t get out of it like last time. We’re talking mandatory jailtime if he’s convicted.” I breathe a sigh of relief.

“Thank God.” I respond aloud.

“We have some paperwork to fill out and then y’all can go.” Walter directs us over to his desk and sends someone to get us coffee.

“The final thing we need to do is a written statement from you, Sy. I got Emma’s in the investigation room. She couldn’t write so I transcribed for her.”

I bite my lip to keep from cursing at the fact that my girl is injured. The poor thing looks exhausted as she cradles the Styrofoam cup of strong black coffee in her uninjured hand. I know it’s bitter after she takes a small sip and places it down with a slight look of disgust.

“I’ll make this as quick as I can, Sugar.” I say and she nods before looking at the picture of Faye that Walt has on his desk. They engage in small talk as I recount the events of the afternoon starting at the grocery store on paper. My handwriting is just barely legible, but it was good enough for the army to never say anything so they shouldn’t have problem with it either. When I’m finished, I glance at Em who is resting her head against her uninjured arm across Walt’s desk and lightly dozing. I hand the legal pad back over to Walt who reads over it and then has me sign it at the bottom. He adds his signature as a witness to my statement.

“There was a vehicle in the parking lot near where the assault took place that had an Alabama license plate on it.”

“Was it registered to him?”

“Nope, rental car. I’ve got someone trying to confirm that he was the renter.”

“Was it darkly colored?”

“Black.”

“Damnit..” I mutter. “She said she saw a dark car parked out by her neighbor’s house all night. It turned around in her driveway but she thought it was the neighbor’s kid. I didn’t check the surveillance video when she mentioned it.” I’m such a fucking idiot, I think to myself.

“Was she home?”

“Nah, she was at mine. I should’ve looked into it.”

“Well, at least she wasn’t there and you’ve got surveillance camera’s up. Send me the video later when you go back and obsess over this.” He knows me well.

“I will.”

“She gonna be okay?” Walt asks and I shrug my shoulders.

“I honestly don’t know. I just can’t believe this even happened. I should have protected her.”

“You did, Sy. That guys face proves it.”

“I shouldn’t have left her alone.”

“Don’t beat yourself up. She’s not a child that needs a babysitter, you didn’t know. Just try to let her process her feelings about it and be there. That’s all you can do in situations like these.”

“Thanks man. I really owe ya for being there for us. For her. I know this isn’t your responsibility and you certainly don’t have the time to spare.”

“We’re family, practically brothers. She’s a great girl and I expect to see her officially becoming family one day.” He says with a wink and I smirk.

“I’m just trying not to scare her off or I’d already have a ring.” We shake hands and I gently wake Emma up.

“Sugar, we’re done. Let’s get out of here.” I tell her and she sleepily blinks up at me before nodding. Walt and I are both surprised when she walks around Walter’s desk and wraps her arms around him.

“Thank you for everything. Next time you have Faye, I would love to meet her.” She says genuinely and Walt smiles, something rare for him.

“You can count on it. As soon as she knows you’re a veterinarian she’ll be asking you a million questions so prepare yourself now.”

“Bring her to the clinic sometime. She can be my assistant for the day.” Emma smiles and I’m surprised at how comfortable she seems around Walt. I’m grateful for it though. I’m closer with him than I am with my own brother and I appreciate her having someone else here she can rely on. Walt’s not an easy man to get to know, so it makes me happy that she broke down that barrier and got him to open up. Breaking down walls seems to come naturally to her. God knows, she worked her magic on me somehow.

We say our goodbyes and make our way to the parking lot where I find my truck parked in the lot, just like PawPaw said he would.

“How?” Emma asked as I opened the passenger door and lifted her in.

“PawPaw. Called him on the way to the station.” I answer before getting in and cranking the engine. It’s late afternoon now and this day seems to have gone on forever.

“Can we get something to eat on the way home?” Emma asks and I arch my eyebrow at her.

“Sure, but I’m taking you to get that arm checked out.”

“No. I want fast food, and I want to go home.” She demands.

“Baby, I’m worried that it’s broken. You’re clearly in pain. You’ve been cradling your arm against you since it happened.”

“I just need some Tylenol and a greasy burger. I’ll go tomorrow. After everything today, I just want to go home. Please?” She looks at me with pure exhaustion and almost seems like she might cry. I nod and put the truck in gear. I can't ever seem to tell her no.

“Promise you’ll tell me if it hurts and I’ll take you to the doctor.” I command and she promises.

After securing a bag full of greasy Mcdonald’s, I start making the way towards her house assuming she’d want to be in the comfort of her home. I plan on staying wherever she is, so I’m glad my grandparents took the dogs for the night.

“Where are we going? You missed the turn.” She points out.

“You said you wanted to go home so I figured you meant yours.”

“No. I want to go to yours.”

“Okay, Sugar.” I tell her as I make a u-turn to head back in the direction of my house with a small smile on my lips.

“What?” Emma asks.

“I just like hearing you say you want to go home and meaning my house. I figured you’d want to be in your own bed or something.”

She shakes her head. “Your house feels more like home to me.”

“It is baby. It’s our home.” I tell her as I tuck some hair behind her ear and her smile melts my heart.

After we get home and I explain that the dogs are with my grandparents, Emma takes some medicine before we tuck in to our greasy dinner. Is it really that tasty, or are we just starving from the events of the day? The Wizard of Oz plays noisily on the tv in the background but neither of us seem to be watching it, rather just using it as background noise while we eat.

Emma is quiet, likely processing everything that has happened so I just remain a silent presence as I let her sit in her contemplation, remaining close if she decides she’d like to talk.

I place a bag of frozen peas on her arm when she’s done eating and it startles her almost as if she didn’t notice me moving around beside her. She thanks me quietly as I elevate her arm on some pillows before I run my hands through her hair. We remain sitting in the living room until the movie credits are rolling on the tv screen. Emma is curled against me but seems uncomfortable. I ask her if her arm hurts and she just replies, “cramps”. Damn, in all of the madness today I forgot. This morning seems like it was a lifetime ago.

“Let’s go take a warm shower and get in bed, Darlin’”.

Emma nods and I help her up before tossing the peas back in the freezer. I shut off the lights and double check that the doors are locked before we head into the master bathroom and I turn the water on to get it warming.

“I’ll give you a minute. Need anything?” I ask and she just shakes her head.

I head back into the bedroom making sure I have all of the comfort items I purchased this morning ready for her. I pulled out one of my t-shirts and grabbed some panties from her bag before setting them on her side of the bed. I made sure she had some water and pain relief meds on the nightstand as well. I stripped myself down before knocking on the bathroom door to let her know I was coming back in. Emma was already standing in the hot stream of water so I joined her and wrapped my arms around her. Her bandage was taken off and sat on the bathroom vanity and this was the first look I had gotten of it since she got hurt. I gently placed her arm in my flat palm and looked at the blue, purple, and slightly yellow bruise that had formed along the top of her forearm.

“I’m okay.” She said as I stared at her arm and tried to reign in my anger towards that bastard of a human.

“You should see the other guy…oh wait.” She jokes and I can’t help but smirk. Before I can apologize again for not getting to her quick enough, she speaks again.

“Could you help me wash my hair?”

“Of course, Sugar. Let me.” I take her shampoo that she brought and left over here a few weeks ago and washed her hair before rinsing and conditioning it. While letting that sit, I washed her body as gently as I could. I noticed her knees were scraped but didn’t say anything about it, just gently cleaning them off. After rinsing her hair and her body, I quickly bathed myself before getting us out and wrapping her up in a towel. I attempted to wrap her hair up in a towel as well, but that ended up being more complicated than I realized. She smiled and asked for a moment of privacy so I waited for her in the bedroom as I threw on some boxers. Emma came out a moment later still wrapped in her towel and I quickly helped her put on some panties and my DILIGAF t-shirt that she loves so much. I re-wrapped her hand with the bandage that the EMT’s placed on it earlier today and made her promise that we would get it looked at tomorrow. She showed me how to brush her hair, claiming she could do it with her non-dominant hand, but I was adamant that she let me help her. I gently combed through the tangles over her long hair before settling her in bed with the hot water bottle on her abdomen before crawling in behind her to spoon her.

“Mmm. Thank you for the hot water bottle. And, everything else.”

“I’m just sorry you got hurt. I’ve replayed it in my head a hundred times at least and I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

“Baby. Don’t. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m so grateful you were there.”

“What happened…when I went back inside the store? I’ve been trying not to ask but I just need to know.”

“Well, you went back inside and I started unloading the groceries into the truck. Once I got them all in, I went to put the grocery cart in the little return area. I didn’t see him, I just felt someone come up behind me and I tried to turn around but he wrapped his arms around me and told me to stay still. That’s when I knew. The second I heard his voice and felt his breath on my neck, I knew it was Colin. I told him to stop, not do this. All he said was, “I’m going to make you regret turning your back on me.” I noticed he was sort of backing me up away from your truck and that’s when I started really fighting him and screaming. You showed up a few moments later.” She explained.

My hands gripped tightly into fists as I thought about what happened next. His hands on her, Emma’s screams, my urge to get to her.

Emma placed her hand on top of mine before turning over to face me. I helped her move her hair away from her face before she kissed me. Lovingly, tenderly, appreciatively.

“I love you, Austin Syverson. You mean the world to me.”

“I love you more, Sugar.”

“Thank you for putting up with my baggage.”

“Thank you for putting up with mine.” I say as I stroke her cheek before kissing her forehead. Emma yawns and places her hot water bottle on the nightstand before snuggling into me and falling asleep. Her eyelids flutter in the moonlight that trickles in to the bedroom and I lay there admiring her strength while also running through every ‘what if’ scenario in my head. What if I hadn’t arrived in time and he had managed to take her? What if he had hurt her worse? What were his intentions by taking her? My brain gets carried away and I’m tempted to get up and get a beer, but I can’t stand the thought of leaving Emma alone after almost losing her. I lay there in the dark with the most incredible woman that I’ve ever met curled against my chest and thank God for letting her be okay before I finally drift off to sleep.

I’m awoken with a start at some point in the middle of the night, blinking the sleep from my eyes as I try and figure out what woke me. I hear Emma whimper and see that she’s having a nightmare. Usually it’s me with the nightmares, but this time she’s the one crying and curled in on herself in the fetal position.

“Sugar?” I gently try and rouse her.

“no, please no.” She mumbles and I flip the lamp on and scoop her up against me.

“Sugar, it’s Austin. You’re safe.” I tell her and her eyelids peel open, groggily.

She takes a deep breath as tears stream down her face. My heart somehow breaks even more.

I don’t know what to do or say so I just keep repeating that she’s safe and hold her until her crying calms down and she is asleep in my arms.

I lay in the dark cradling her as I try to keep my thoughts on my perfect girl, rather than that scum that I wish I had wiped off of parking lot to finish him off. I reach for my phone with my intentions clear. I know what I want. I have some research to do and now is the best time to start.

Part 15

Taglist: @shellyshellshell, @henryownsme, @caramariehurst, @beck07990, @mollymal, @kingliam2019, @syversonswife, @identity2212, @starfirewildheart, @hannah9921, @wa-ni, @kneelforloki, @cutedoxie, @enchantedbytomandhenry, @foxyjwls007, @geralts-yenn, @courtlynwriter, @corrie1013, @squeezyvalkyrie, @summersong69, @livisss, @mayloma, @uunotheangel, @warriormirkwood, @sofiebstar

#henry cavill characters #captain syverson #captain sy #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson fic #captain syverson smut #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #captain syverson fluff

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whimsical-roasting · 11 months

Text

“Coach Ted, how do you feel about group cohesion and dance breaks?”

thinking about random moments shared in the jamie tartt x psych major!reader fic i have in my head... just cute shit tbh

okay so the reader has been with the Richmond club for a solid few months, she’s a familiar face and friendly to the team but not super close with everybody, minus Colin and surprisingly,,, Jamie hehe

the team seems to be having a serious tie-streak going on, and they’re all kinda bummed by it

Ted’s obviously still Ted, unwavering winners mindset that basically means ‘do your best, give yourself a pat, shake it off, and repeat’ - with the addition of a smile ofc!

the reader has been doing readings for her org psych class and knows that raising group morale is necessary but also so so hard.

sometimes motivational speeches just don’t cut it yknow?? sometimes you gotta think outside of the box to fix the vibes and spread positivity

so there she is, standing in the coach’s office with a bluetooth speaker in her hand, nervously waiting for it to be her turn to speak

“Coach Ted,” she calls him in a manner that’s playful but still professional - he’s insisted on just Ted in the past and she’s complied but for serious conversations, she enjoys leading with a ‘subtle sense of professionalism’

“Coach Ted, how do you feel about group cohesion and dance breaks?” she asks, fiddling with the speaker in her hand

“Well darlin, I love a good flash mob. Gosh, those folks must keep in touch, right?” He directs his eyes to Beard, who peaks over his book and replies affirmingly, “a bond has been formed,” causing both you and Ted to smile

“Well, less flash mob but more like... a bi-weekly dance break?” she continues as Ted’s eyes land on her again. “I know the boys are bummed with the tie-streak and I was reading in my org psych textbook about the importance of autonomy in decorating our workspaces, and how group morale helps cohesion which’ll lead to better attitudes and hopefully better performance - not that our performance has been poor, it’s been great, I’m proud of the boys really! But, it sucks to see them bummed out...So maybe a twice-a-week-song-dance-break will lift spirits??”

she’s rambling. she’s nervous!! it’s a good idea tbh but still, sharing means being vulnerable and the potential of getting rejected

Ted politely waits for her to finish, nodding along and then grins, “sounds wonderful darlin! Hey, maybe you can get the boys to give some song suggestions to help with the whole autonomy thing you mentioned.”

she’s happy !! grinning as she steps out to the locker room, dragging out the whiteboard from the corner and scribbling in a lil corner of it

Jamie’s eyes follow her silently. truth be told, they followed her when she entered and disappeared into the coach’s office. but he smiles a lil seeing her grin at herself

when she’s done with the whiteboard, she calls for attention and lets the boys know to write down their suggestions, and she’ll choose two songs for the week randomly!! she emphasizes nervously that it should help according to her textbooks and Jamie is silently nodding, eyes drifting to her hands as she fiddles with the whiteboard marker

Dani is the first to speak, “pardon me, can it be Spanish songs too?” and she smiles really big, “anything you like!!”

Isaac adds, “yea bruv, I fuck wit Bad Bunny” and there’s a wave of approving noises from the rest

SO, the plan has been implemented, and it’s frickin working!!!

the boys always look forward to whose song is chosen - lots of rap, some taylor swift, Work Hard Play Hard makes them go nuts, some musical songs from Colin but it’s okay cause the lads are hyped over Hamilton

Ted gets into it!! dancing!! Dani and Jan Maas share an imaginary mic!! it’s great, but Jamie’s favourite part is seeing her join them in the locker rooms for every dance break grooving to the music

one day SHE chooses the song... “Keep Your Head Up” by Andy Grammer cause the team seemed extra tired and bummed

everyone’s like ??? who chose this?? she’s like ‘me. I did.’

she’s trying to break the tension, so she takes her imaginary mic and goes to Ted, then Colin, then Sam, and soon everyone’s into it - just happily singing and dancing

she somehow ends up next to Jamie, shoulders bumping. she’s swaying as she faces him, playfully mouthing the lyrics to him as he smiles with a slight blush (not that she notices cause she’s blushing too)

they’re both dancing close to each other, and she lightly pokes his chin when the song goes, “you gotta keep your head up”, reaching up to pull down his headband at, “and you can let your hair down,” grinning at him when he’s like ‘hey!! :o... >:)’

the song ends, and they’re still laughing at each other, holding hands...a bit longer than they should tbh hehehe. Jamie loves her energy and kindness, it matches his goofiness and makes him wanna be a better person

but anyways!!! they pull away, hoping no one notices.. some do but don’t say anything

#jamie tartt x psych major!reader #jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso x reader #ted lasso #jamie tartt

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oh-saints · 11 months

Note

Could you do something for Mason about Reader being insecure and self conscious ?

of course i could for you! this is one of the topics i like to explore but this time's with a twist whooo sorry for the long wait thooo mason's latest absence is what drives me to finish this up bcs i miss him :(

beauty

it's only supposed to be a trip back to his hometown, portsmouth, and a little visit to his childhood friend's house. but the sister's insecurity changes everything.

mason mount x female!reader

word count: 1.6k

tw: physical insecurities, degradation of self-images, self-concious, minor mention of online bullying

note: another old prompts out from the vault! aforementioned twist is the brother's best friend trope and some parts are mildly inspired by colin and penelope's story of bridgerton the book ("romancing mr. bridgerton"). but as usual, i happen to write at dawn so ofc this is not proof-read.

“what are you doing?”

it was early morning, nearing dawn even. mason woke up for a bathroom break, only to find his best friend’s sister already standing in front of the mirror. from her posture, mason could only guess you were trying to put on contact lenses.

why so early in the morning? especially when tomorrow the family—including mason, whom the family had unofficially adopted since primary school—had the agenda to go and see the local festival from the morning, so they all could get the once-in-a-year sightings, both of the sight and food.

you immediately froze at mason’s voice, your limbs awkward from getting caught red handed in action. “uh… putting on the contact lenses?”

“since when do you wear one?”

“never?”

gone was his need to pee. this young lady in front of him was certainly more fascinating. “why start now? doesn’t it feel weird?”

you let out a deep sigh, officially giving up your futile attempt to wear the damned clear magic rubber. “they say beauty is pain, you know?”

mason leaned against the door frame of the small bathroom, hands tucked inside the pockets of his trainers. “still doesn’t answer my initial question, though.”

you’d cleared up your station when you turned around your body to face him. “it’s because of you.”

despite leaning, your words definitely caught his attention that he couldn’t help but stand straighter, his face contorted into confusion by the accusation. “what did I do?”

you winced as your hands placed your glasses on their designated place. were you hurt somewhere? he thought.

“did you see twitter today?”

mason’s whereabouts would always be the talk of town. literally and figuratively speaking. he was a buzz when the small town of Portsmouth noticed his presence back to town for a short visit—his annual short visit to your family because it’d always been the tradition, besides his other casual trips to see his mum—so he was definitely going to be a buzz around internet town.

“there’s a reason why I don’t use twitter anymore,” how mason remained calm in this condition supposed to spook you, because he was almost always boisterous, but you realised maybe it was because he was more experienced in handling spotlight. good game, bad game, good look, bad look—he’d had the taste of it all. “but enlighten me. what did I do?”

“well, not what you did. it was rather the press and your fans,” while you weren’t the brightest, happy-go-lucky kind of girl, sighing that deep and that much still didn’t sit well on mason’s ears. “they were saying mean things about how ridiculous I looked beside you.”

the birdy app must’ve caught his sightings while he was out for a lunch with your family. he did take several pictures with passing fans in between waiting for a seat to your family’s favourite restaurant, but netizens could’ve twisted reality into a selling story. especially when the rest of the world didn’t know he was so close to your family because he was always over at your house since primary school, attached to your brother by the hip from then on.

especially if any of the papz or creepy fans taking pics from a far took a notice of him being alone with you when you both took the liberty to come up to the cashier after the rest of your family was seated. not because they were kind, but they were the closest to the front desk.

it made sense now.

but somehow it didn’t.

because at that exact moment, as you were standing in front of him without make up and only helped by the bright light of the bathroom, mason could see anything but ridiculous looking woman.

you might not sport a luxurious piece of clothing because it wasn’t your preference but you always have a nice, modest style that was simple but clean. you might not also be the kind of woman who pampered your self in a beauty clinic every two weeks but your hair was always styled nicely, and your face and hair glowed healthily.

you were averse of body-fitting clothes because that style once hurt your lower lymph node so you’d always don on baggy fits, but you were now standing in front of him in a loose lingerie top and a tennis shorts—at the break at the dawn, no less—yet you looked stunning in the most natural way.

mason even dared to say that he liked you better with those spectacles on because it gave you the impression of a smart look. like pretty and smart look, not the nerdy smart appeal. he could even appreciate the blue ring that surrounded your orbs, beautifully enhancing the colour of your eyes.

it didn’t make sense to him, too, that he only realised how breath-taking you looked now, despite having known you for years. he noticed you weren’t so much different from the lunch, he could only point out some of your features lacking the make up product needed. and you looked even good when your hair was ponytailed like right now, which was a style hard to pull off, if mason was being completely honest.

it didn’t make sense to him that he was only seeing this now. yes, your family bore good looking genes and all but he never recognised you being attractive in the least glamorous way. and he found himself liking the reality more than he thought he should.

no, nope. damn it, you were his best friend’s sister. he watched you grow up alongside him—acnes, broken hearts, and all. he couldn’t possibly like you more than that.

couldn’t he?

“they must be blind,” was all mason could say as a reply. if he said a word more, he would’ve broken down a dam.

“you say that because you’re friends with my brother,” you shook your head in a very dissatisfied manner. “he would’ve cut you off if you said the otherwise.”

“trust me, I’ve seen models and celebrities and you don’t fall short to them,” mason tried to shrug off his shoulder cooly, not wanting to spill some of his internal thoughts. “have a faith in yourself.”

“easy for you to say when you’re the one every girl fawns over,” you chuckled bitterly as you gathered your belongings now. “try becoming me who no one dates.”

if they were talking another topic, mason would’ve liked to cover the whole no-boyfriend thing because wow, apparently everyone was blind, huh? but that would’ve been out of topic and mason had to ground himself back to earth.

he still couldn’t hide his exasperation, though. “why is it so hard for you to believe me?”

“because I really look like what they described. horrendous, like modern Ursula,” but you were also desperate for mason to see your concern. “thank god your fans didn’t dig up my past to find an old picture of me wearing braces. what a field day that would’ve been.”

you were busy putting together your beauty kit that you didn’t realise mason had fallen into a silent tirade. not until suddenly you heard your name being called, in the lowest bass mason had ever mustered—even lower when the time you saw him reprimanding your brother for being a stupid jerk to their fellow classmate, poor girl—and you could feel shivers running down your back.

you turned your body slowly because you swore a horror movie wasn’t more eerily frightening than that. combined that with the fact she had to face a fuming mason mount, who was no longer leaning against the door frame, you knew you were fucked.

you would so much rather have the handsome, chirpy mason mount back. the one who everyone falls for. which meant it included you, unfortunately. maybe you were the most unfortunate one because you had been crushing on him since your puberty days and yet you couldn’t say anything, afraid it would make your brother’s relationship strained or it would make the atmosphere awkward when he was your mother’s favourite.

“yes?”

you tried to sound brave, like mason cutting in the distance between the two of you didn’t make your heart leaping, both from the earlier fear and from the close-up sight of mason’s gorgeous features. the latter always made your knees busted.

“shut up.”

and shut you up, he did. he cupped your face rather harshly that you gasped, because his soft skin on your face was a complete contrast, but maybe it was to distract the fact he brought your face closer to you afterwards, eliminating the distance between both of your lips.

maybe you gasped because you didn’t have the chance to digest the reality.

maybe you gasped because you couldn’t believe this. mason mount was kissing you, for god’s sake. and he felt exactly like what you thought he would taste like—soft, gentle, but urgent like a bad boy trying to prove something to you. which in a way, it was like that.

maybe you gasped because it felt so damn good, better than your dirtiest fantasies involving him. surely none of those included the scene where he pushed you off against the white wall in these small four walls, coaxing your mouth open so he could taste you further, his tongue didn’t waste a chance when you granted him access because he needed you to feel you were beautiful and needed and fantastic.

he needed you to know that if you pulled away at that moment, he would feel utterly disappointed because you were beautiful inside and out, literally and figuratively, that he was addicted to the first taste. and god, were they right about the first taste of the forbidden fruit.

#anon asks #oh-saints answers #oh-saints writes #oh-saints writes requests #mason mount #mason mount fic #mason mount drabbles #mason mount blurbs #mason mount imagines #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fluff #mason mount imagine #mason mount fics #mason mount x you #footballer x you #footie fics #footie fic

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blackroseguzzi · 1 year

Text

MaStErLiSt

Warren Lipka Fanfiction:

Whoosah baby Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Colin Zabel x OFC Fanfiction

Jesus, etc. Part 1 Part 2 - on hold

Fate part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Core memory (Fate one shot)

Kai Anderson Fanfiction

Honey Kisses

Otherworldly Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Jealousy

Stars Aligned for us.

Show me

Pink blazers & world domination

Pre-Cult Kai Anderson Fanfiction

The Girl Next Door Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

#even peters #evan peters imagine #colin zabel #warren lipka x reader #warren lipka imagine #colin zabel fanfiction #kai anderson fanfiction #kai anderson x reader #kai anderson x you #ahs

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lendeah · 3 months

Text

UNBOUND

Chapter 2: The Thunderstaff Legacy

series masterlist

Summary: After months of separation, Neri reunites with her family, and the burdens of her responsibilities as the Heir resurface. Her sole escape appears to be through her magical research, which Gale, due to a mysterious illness, has been neglecting.

Pairing: Gale x OFC!Reader

Tags: Slow Burn, Mentor/Protégé, but everything is healthy I promise, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Soft Gale (Baldur's Gate), Gale Needs a Hug (Baldur's Gate), Professor Gale (Baldur's Gate)

Word count: 4.8k

AO3 LINK

Chapter 2! Everything is starting to come together in my head. This chapter is especially background plot filled, but I promise from this point on things will start to get more dynamic! Also there will be more Gale and Neri interactions as they delve into the research :)

"The Karsus Weave!? Are you completely out of your mind!?"

But Neri merely rolled her eyes and focused on her work, undisturbed by the reaction. She was jotting down notes as Corlin poked at the burnt robotic piece on the table with different magical instruments, filling the laboratory with a strong smell of sulphur. Eiruk stood beside her, amazed by Neri's calm demeanour despite his disbelief.

"You know Vanja wouldn't approve of this research, right? How in the nine hells are you even going to locate those stones?!" Eiruk continued rambling.

"Vanja is no longer my mentor, so everything will be okay," she said as she continued lazily scribbling on her page. The piece they were working on seemed to combine a necrotic curse and a fire spell, causing it to decay while simultaneously burning. Despite its deteriorating state, the piece somehow managed to continuously repair itself, suggesting there probably was something hidden within it.

"Neri, you know how dangerous it is to meddle with the weave and its godly power," Eiruk exclaimed frantically. "Your new mentor will only lead you to your death, right before graduation! And then who will choose my suit? Corlin? He can't even tie his own shoestrings!" He gestured wildly to the other student sitting next to them.

Colin gazed up at her, his gold-trimmed glasses precariously balanced on the tip of his nose, and gave a gentle smile.

"Well, I think it's a thrilling opportunity. You have the potential to revolutionize our understanding of the weave and magic itself. Not everyone gets that chance," he remarked, pointedly disregarding the other boy. Eiruk sulked in response.

"Indeed, Colin. And it is not about seeking godly power, Eiruk. Think of the implications this research could have on the field of magical study!" Neri exclaimed passionately.

"But we're discussing the Karsus Weave... Do you recall what happened to Karsus and his empire? It was decimated! All because they got involved in matters that should have been left alone!" Eiruk worriedly rambled, running a hand through his black curls in agitation.

Colin rolled his eyes, "Of course, but that was thousands of years ago Eiruk. That doesn't imply the same is going to happen now."

"Exactly! And besides, Gale wouldn't have chosen this path if he thought it was too dangerous." She smiled at Corlin, as he nodded in agreement, green eyes sparkling as he returned her grateful smile. "He's smarter than that."

Eiruk seemed unimpressed by her optimism. "Well, the road to the Nine Hells is paved with good intentions," he muttered, crossing his arms.

Ignoring Eiruk's negativity, she turned to Corlin again. "Corlin, I need your assistance with something."

The younger boy immediately perked up, "Yes! What do you need?"

Eiruk huffed in frustration and left them to go retrieve something from the bookshelf nearby.

She pointed at the robotic piece on the table. "This piece seems to be enchanted with some form of self-repairing spell. Can you use your magic detection tools to analyse its composition?"

“Yes, mam!” Corlin eagerly grabbed his tool kit and got to work. As he did so, Neri found herself thinking about Gale once again. After their first meeting a few days ago, he hadn't called for her again, leaving her feeling slightly anxious. Maybe he regretted choosing her as his apprentice? Or maybe he was just busy with another research?

Just as she was about to dive even further into her thoughts, a gentle tickle on the back of her neck snapped her back to reality; someone was sending her a message. Her heart raced with anticipation, hoping it was her long-awaited mentor reaching out to her. A deep voice spoke inside her mind:

"Lady Neriyra Thunderstaff, you have been requested for a meeting with Lord Baerom Thunderstaff II. A carriage will arrive to collect you before the clock strikes noon."

Ice ran through her veins as the message ended. She hadn't expected this summons so soon. It had been months since she last saw her family, and it was never a pleasant experience. She realized it must have been at least half a year since she left the Estate in a whirlwind, hoping she didn't have to return until after her graduation. Their relationship was always tense, to put it mildly. She constantly clashed with their expectations for her as the heir, and she was sure this visit would be no exception.

"Neri? Are you okay?" Colin's gentle voice brought her back to reality. The blonde boy was looking at her with concern in his eyes.

Neri took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. "I'm fine. Just... a little distracted." She forced a smile, hoping it was convincing enough.

But Corlin wasn't fooled. He knew her well enough to know when something was bothering her. "Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked sincerely.

Neri shook her head. "No, thank you. I just... need to take care of some family business."

Corlin's expression turned sympathetic. He knew about the strained relationship between Neri and her family, and he could sense that this sudden meeting was causing her distress. Eiruk, who had just returned, raised an eyebrow teasingly. "Leaving so soon? I might have to report this to Vanja."

Neri smirked at him. "I'll just tell her about what happened last night, then we'll be even."

With that, she excused herself from the group and headed out of the laboratory. As she walked, she tried to calm her nerves and conjured a dimensional door that led directly to her room; she didn't want to waste any more time climbing all eight flights of stairs.

After entering her room, she unlocked the closet, which was magically designed to appear small but held all her clothing and more. She located one of the red and black floor-length dresses that she had been gifted for these events and reluctantly put it on. With a sigh, she released the messy black braided bun she typically wore for work and fashioned her hair into a tidy crown of braids. She added some silver chains and earrings to complete the look. But the most crucial part was concealing her pointed ears within the elaborate braids - a skill she had mastered since childhood.

As the sun began to set and evening descended upon the bustling city, Neri took a deep breath and pushed all doubts and fears aside, putting on a façade of confidence as she greeted the carriage driver on the marble stairs of the academy. The grand carriage was adorned with opulent red and black velvet and intricately woven silver trimmings, every detail paying homage to her prestigious house. She settled into the plush seat and gazed out the window, watching as the passing streets slowly transformed from the middling academy district to the more refined North Ward where her family's estate awaited her arrival.

As they approached, Neri could feel her anxiety rising again. The grand mansion stood tall and intimidating against the rolling hills of green grass. The carriage came to a stop in front of a massive iron gate adorned with intricate silver weaponry patterns, signifying the Thunderstaff family crest. Neri's mind raced with conflicting emotions - fear and nostalgia clashed within her as she stepped out onto the familiar gravel drive, leading up to the entrance of her childhood home. She wasn't sure if she was ready to face what awaited her behind those doors.

Neri walked up the familiar marble steps that led to the grand entrance of her family's mansion. Two guards bowed at her arrival; they must have been new, as she didn’t recognize their faces. They opened the massive oak wood doors, revealing a lavish hall adorned with gold and silver décor and opulent crystal chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings. Neri walked through the grand entryway, passing by familiar paintings and statues that she had grown up seeing. Memories flooded back, of two children running around the granite floors, throwing cantrips at each other, laughter reverberating in the tall walls. A wave of nostalgia washed over her as she walked towards the dining room, where she knew her family members would be gathered. The sound of their low chatter could be heard from outside, filling her with dread.

She took a moment to collect herself, before stepping into the grand dining room. A hush fell over the space. The only sound was the soft rustle of fabric and the shuffle of feet as she made her way to the centre. Her head bowed in respect, and she took in the scene before her. Her grandfather was just as she remembered; sharp features and piercing hazel eyes, as he stood at the head of the long table. To his left was her aunt Marle, her chestnut curls tumbling down her shoulders in perfect waves, a small smile on her lips. Neri's uncle, a tall man with broad shoulders and a thick beard, sat next to her aunt, his eyes locked on Neri. Neri's heart skipped a beat at the sight of her father sitting on her grandfather's right side, his expression as stern and unyielding as ever. Her mother Lynx was seated next to him, radiating beauty and elegance in a deep red gown embroidered with silver thread and adorned with glittering jewels. Her mother's dark hair was swept up into an intricate updo, hiding her pointed elven ears from view, just like she had hid hers. Neri couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness as she glanced at the empty seat where her sister Lila should have been, but she quickly masked any sorrow with grace and poise.

"You are late, Neriyra."

She slowly raised her head to meet her grandfather's gaze.

"Please forgive my tardiness, Lord Baerom," she spoke calmly and without falter.

Her grandfather's sharp gaze seemed to pierce through her very being, but Neri held her ground and refused to look away. She was well aware that he was testing her, as he always did. Despite their complicated relationship, a part of her had always yearned for his approval, even if it came in the way of glancing duels.

"You are fully aware of the importance of punctuality in our family," he said icily. "But I doubt you have any concern for our relatives or their affairs. You have always been a disappointment as an heir after all."

Neri winced as his words landed with a familiar sting. She had heard this same criticism too many times before. Ever since her sister Lila vanished without a trace, she had felt even more like an outsider in her own family - a feeling that seemed to only intensify with time.

"On the contrary, Grandfather," she replied calmly. "I am fully committed to our family and its legacy. I understand the importance of punctuality and I apologize for my delay."

Her grandfather's expression remained stoic, revealing nothing of his thoughts.

"Excuses, Neri. You always have an excuse," he retorted. "Your father was the same, always making promises he couldn't keep. I had hoped you would be different, but I guess I should've known. You are of another kin, after all."

Neri felt a flash of anger at her grandfather's words, but she quickly schooled her features into a neutral expression. Her grandfather constantly reminded her that she was the sole potential heir to the Thunderstaff House, much to his dismay. He had removed his own father from the will when he married her mother. In contrast, her aunt was unable to conceive, which had been a source of criticism from their grandfather throughout her entire life. And her sister Lila...

Neri spoke confidently, "Grandfather, I want to assure you that I will do everything in my power to keep my promise to both you and House Thunderstaff. I am determined to prove myself as a worthy heir."

Her grandfather's expression softened slightly at her words, but his tone remained stern. "That remains to be seen, Neriyra," he said. "Take a seat."

As Neri settled into her seat next to her mother, she couldn't help but feel a pang of emotion. It had been far too long since they had been together in the same room. Her mother's smile was warm and comforting. She squeezed her hand tightly under the table, a silent reassurance that everything would be okay. As for her father, he remained stoic and distant, not even sparing a glance in her direction. Not that she expected it anyway. She guessed he would probably stay silent for the whole affair, as he always seemed to do. A familiar ache settled in her chest as she realized how much their relationship had deteriorated over the years. But for now, she pushed it aside and focused on the comforting touch of her mother's hand in hers.

Her grandfather cleared his throat, bringing everyone's attention back to him. "Now, shall the dinner begin."

The servants brought out familiar dishes that she hadn't tasted in years - spit-roasted fowl, glazed root vegetables, and a crystal decanter of their private reserve wine. She watched silently as her mother served the food onto her plate, avoiding eye contact with everyone. She couldn't help but notice the stark contrast between her and her parents. Her mother, who still looked young and radiant because of her elven nature, could easily be mistaken for Neri's sister with her silky black hair and eyes like deep pools of onyx. Her father, on the other hand, had the typical Thunderstaff features - dark brown hair, tanned skin, sharp features, and hazel eyes.

It was crushing when she was born, as Baerom's last glimmer of hope had been for her to resemble a Thunderstaff despite her origin. However, she inherited moon elf traits from her mother. Another reason for him to despise her, she supposed.

The air was thick with tension and unspoken words. The silence was broken only by the clinking of silverware and occasional small talk from her aunt Marle and her husband. Neri picked at her food, lost in thought.

"Have you been keeping up with your studies?" Her grandfather's question cut through the hum of conversation like a knife.

"Of course, Grandfather," Neri replied smoothly, receiving an approving nod from her mother. "I have recently mastered appertaining Ravenous Void."

"That is...adequate for a woman," he conceded after a moment. "However, you know our family expects you to complete your studies quickly and follow in the footsteps of your father and myself by joining the military. Theoretical knowledge is nothing if you don't put it to good use."

Neri felt her stomach drop at the mention of the militia. It was a topic that had been constantly drilled into her since she was old enough to understand. As the first child and heir to the Thunderstaff legacy, it was expected of her to continue the family tradition of mastering evocation magic and serving in the Waterdhavian military as a general or high-ranking official. For so long she had wanted to shout, to demand to be heard about her true desires, but she knew it would be futile. They had had this conversation over a hundred times, all of them with the same outcome.

So instead, she offered a polite smile and nodded obediently. "I will do my best to uphold our family's reputation, Grandfather."

He nodded curtly before resuming his meal until he spoke up again. “I spoke with Stedd Moonstar recently. Your union with Helion will happen earlier than anticipated."

Neri paused mid-bite, her fork hovering in the air as she processed her grandfather's words. So that was what this dinner was really about. Neri's heart began to race as she looked around the table at her family. Her parents remained stoic, keeping their eyes trained on their plates. Her aunt Marle looked worried, her brow furrowed in concern. But it was Grandfather Baerom who held her gaze, his piercing eyes locked onto hers.

"What do you mean, Grandfather?" Neri asked, trying to keep the panic out of her voice.

Baerom took a sip of wine before answering.

"Although we planned to wait until your graduation for the formal ceremony, the Absolute's destruction of our ranks has left us in urgent need of an economic and power alliance. We must solidify it immediately."

Neri's hand tightened around her fork as she tried to process the information. She had always known about the arrangement between their families, but she had managed to delay it until she finished her studies with the pretence of having to live in the tower. She had hoped she would find a way out by then.

"I-I understand," she managed to choke out, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her mother reached over and placed a comforting hand on hers. "We know this is not what you wanted, but it is for the good of our family and Waterdeep," she said softly.

Neri forced a smile, trying to hide the turmoil inside of her. She knew they were right, but it didn't make the situation any easier for her. It wasn't even because she wanted to get married for love, she just wished she had been given the freedom, the possibility to choose.

Her aunt pointed out, "Lord Moonstar is the only suitable candidate. You two have a similar background, after all."

What she meant was that Helion, like her, was half-elven, and thus the only suitor willing to marry her despite her origin. Her uncle smirked knowingly.

"When will the union take place?" Neri asked, steeling herself for the answer.

"In three months time," Baerom replied firmly. "Lady Moonstar has already begun making preparations."

Neri felt her heart sink as her grandfather's words echoed in her mind. Three months. In just three months, she would be married to a man she barely knew and expected to fulfill her duties as a wife and noblewoman.

The rest of dinner passed by in a haze for Neri. Her thoughts consumed her, making it difficult to focus on the conversations happening around her. Her family discussed wedding plans and political strategies, but Neri found herself unable to contribute. Instead, her mind was filled with schemes and ideas of how to escape her impending marriage. Perhaps if she completed her research ahead of schedule, she could impress Vanja enough to finally secure the title of Blackstaff Heir. In Waterdhavian society, this position held great prestige and influence, particularly among the upper class, even more than the House Heir title. But there was more than just social status on the line. If Neri became the Blackstaff Heir, she would gain enough independent power to potentially change or even break her betrothal agreement with Helion Moonstar. Additionally, securing this position would mean escaping her future in the militia and establishing herself as a respected scholar in the Academy. Excelling in her research with Gale was her last hope for breaking free from a predetermined destiny.

At that moment, her sole objective was to stay focused and keep her family unaware of her true intentions. A fierce determination surged within her, igniting a burning desire to achieve her goal. So, she remained silent and finished her meal.

🔮

Two weeks had passed since Gale had summoned her to the Blackstaff Academy, and still, there was no word from her mentor. Neri found herself growing impatient, constantly checking her sending stone for any messages, or summoning. At that point, she had read every available book about Karsus and the Netherese Empire in the Academy library, studying the rise and fall of the powerful mage who attempted to become a god, spent countless nights practicing her conjuration spells, as Gale had deemed them essential to their investigation. She couldn't help but wonder if his sending stone had broken or if he had met an unfortunate end. The thought sent a chill down her spine – if that were true, all her plans would be thrown out of the window.

Every time she woke up to no word from the wizard, Neri had to resist the temptation to sprint to Gale's tower. Time was slipping away, urging her to take action before it was too late. Her anger and frustration simmered, bubbling with each passing day until it reached a boiling point. Unable to bear the uncertainty any longer, she threw caution to the wind and snuck out of her room in the dead of night. With fire burning in her eyes, she made her way to Gale's tower, determined to confront her mentor.

As she stood at the doorless wall of the tower, bathed in moonlight, Neri hesitated for a moment. But then she thought of all those sleepless nights and days of waiting, and her hesitation turned into determination. She pressed her hand against the symbol, demanding entry with her name, hoping that this time it would open as easily as the first. And fortunately for her, it did. The hidden door slid open with a soft hiss, revealing the familiar interior of Gale's tower. Neri wasted no time and stepped inside, marching up the stairs to Gale's study, ready to unleash her pent-up rage on her mentor. How dare he forget about her? Did the man not understand the urgency of the research? Of course, he didn't know, but her life was on the line!

She finally reached the top of the stairs and entered the room with her chest heaving. The sight halted her movement completely. If the room was a mess the last time she had entered, now it looked as if someone had broken in, attacked both Tara and Gale, and exploded a bomb in the process. Yet, upon closer inspection, she noticed that Gale was sitting on the floor, seemingly meditating, and muttering to himself. Her blood boiled in anger, realizing that this is probably how he had spent the past week while she spent all her time studying and waiting for him to summon her.

"Excuse me, Master Dekarios," Neri exclaimed, hands planted firmly on her hips.

Gale's head snapped up at the sound, his eyes wide with surprise. He quickly scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping over his own robes in the process.

"N-Neri!" he exclaimed, clearly taken aback by her sudden appearance. "What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here?" Neri repeated, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I came here to see what was taking you so long to contact me."

Gale's brow furrowed in confusion as he looked at her. "Contact you? For what?" he asked, genuinely perplexed.

"For our research," Neri snapped impatiently. "I've been waiting for days for your call, and all this time you were just sitting here meditating? Do you even realize how much time we're wasting?!"

Gale's face fell in realization, and he let out a deep sigh. "Forgive me, Neri. My mind has been preoccupied with myriad affairs. There is much transpiring at present."

"That's no excuse," Neri snapped back, unable to control her frustration any longer. She also had so many things going on in her life, yet she was dedicating her precious time to investigate, not meditate.

Gale held up his hands in surrender. "You're right, it's not, and I apologize for neglecting my duties as your mentor."

Neri took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. It wasn't like her to explode this way, much less at a superior. However, Neri's anger slowly dissipated as she finally took in Gale's exhausted appearance. The man looked about to faint, with his skin sickly pale, purple bags under his eyes, his cheeks hollowed, and his clothes rustled and stained with ink.

"Master Dekarios... Is everything alright?" she asked, concern evident in her tone.

Gale tried to maintain a composed facade, but it was clear that he was struggling. "Merely a minor setback," he replied weakly. "But rest assured, I shall endure. And please, feel free to call me Gale. Only Tara insists on calling me Master Dekarios, much to my chagrin."

Neri hesitated for a moment before taking a seat on the floor next to him.

"Please forgive me for saying this, Mas- Gale, but you don't appear to be doing well," she said softly.

He winced in response, and she noticed a subtle purple aura emanating from his chest that she hadn't seen before. "The truth is, I have been struggling with a certain ailment since I returned from my journeys. However, you can rest assured that it will not impede our research from this point forward."

Was he dealing with an illness? And where had he been before his return? With every passing moment, the man became more of an enigma to her.

She sighed and told him, "How about I start tidying up while you gather all the information you have about the research, and then we can work together to figure out our next steps?"

Gale stared at her for a moment, looking as though he were trying to process her words. He finally nodded, some of the tension leaving his face. "That - that would be appreciated, Neri. Thank you."

For the next hour, Neri busied herself cleaning up the room while Gale tried to organize the mess of papers on his desk, floor and... everywhere, really. She occasionally glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, noticing how he seemed to wince every time he moved too abruptly. Her heart ached a bit at the sight, but she forced herself to focus on the task at hand. She picked up a wooden box that had fallen and placed it back on its shelf. As she put the books and other items back in their places, Neri couldn't help but feel guilty about snapping at him earlier. She had never done so to Vanja in the ten years she had been her apprentice. But then again, Vanja had never been neglectful of her duty as her mentor.

As Neri finished cleaning up the mess in the room with the help of her magic, she couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. The formerly disorganized and cluttered room now had a pristine appearance, complete with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and large windows offering a stunning view of the sea. She turned to look at the wizard, who was now sitting back in his chair, staring intently at a thick tome.

She walked over to him and stood next to his desk, "Gale," she began tentatively, "if you don't mind me asking, where were you before you returned to Waterdeep?"

Gale's hand paused mid-motion as he was flipping through some papers. He took a deep breath before answering. "I was... at Baldur's Gate, fulfilling some unexpected duties. Believe me, you don't want to hear about it right now."

She could sense that there was more to the story, but she didn't press any further. Instead, she gestured towards the stack of papers on his desk. "Shall we begin with our research then?"

Gale nodded and Neri sat down in the chair next to Gale's desk, her quill and notebook in hand.

"As stated before, I will need your help with a location spell. However, for this specific research, I need you to come up with a completely new spell. The usual location spells won't suffice for this matter."

She frowned."How so?"

"The spell I need you to create is a combination of a locating spell and a gate spell. We need to find the exact location of the magical artifact we were researching, but we also need to be able to reach it in order to retrieve it safely."

While Gale went through the intricacies of the spell with Neri, she furrowed her brow in deep concentration. She had some experience with divination magic, and location spell was basic enough. Magic Door on the other hand was known to be one of the most challenging conjuration spells, requiring intense focus and precise execution in order to open a safe passage. One mistake could result in being transported to an unknown location, perhaps even the depths of another plane of existence.

"So essentially, we need to both locate and create a dimensional door to the location of the stones at the same time, right? But why not simply try to physically detect them instead? The locating spell can reveal their whereabouts, and it's much less dangerous than attempting to create a portal."

"Yes, however, I am afraid my condition doesn't allow me to travel long distances anymore" Gale confessed. "Also, we are under borrowed time. Anyone could find the stones before us and that would make matters worse."

We are under borrowed time because I have to stop my engagement, Shethought to herself, but instead said, "I'll do my best to create the spell you need. But I may need to consult some of my colleagues at the Academy for their expertise."

Gale looked hesitant for a moment before nodding in agreement. "Of course. And whatever resources you need, I will provide."

With that settled, Neri turned her attention back to her notebook and began jotting down notes and ideas for the spell. She had never attempted something like this before, but she was determined to succeed to get a hold of her future.

Both the illness and his departure from Waterdeep are references to the game's canon events! Hope you enjoyed this character and once again let me know any mistake or feedback you want to share:)

#bg3 fanfiction #gale x reader #bg3 #bg3 fanfic prompt #bg3 tav #gale x tav #gale fanfic #baldurs gate fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 #gale baldurs gate #gale #baldur's gate 3 #fanfic #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 gale #baldurs gate gale #gale bg3

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peterman-spideyparker · 9 months

Text

Hypothetically Real Future (Billy Russo x fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! I was supposed to post this a few days ago, but after being over-productive at work to account for taking few days off, I was too exhausted to edit and post. But here it is! The whole idea was inspired by listen to the Jackie and Ryan soundtrack and hearing Ben Barnes sing. Enjoy! :)

Summary: Billy comes to surprise you on a Friday afternoon, but when he has plans to whisk you away for the weekend, you let him in on your babysitting plans for a friend.

Warnings: Fluff (established relationship, Billy being very sweet and the secret softie he is, Billy having pet names for reader), angst (reader and Billy want some different things, but they haven't talked about it, talk about family/Billy's past)

Other Characters: OFC

Word Count: 2,908

“Hey, doll face,” Billy smiles as he leans against the doorframe to your office.

“Billy,” you smile as you swivel toward him. Getting up, you maneuver around your desk and move to hug him. Before you can wrap him in a tight embrace, he whips out a bouquet in the space between the two of you. You giggle as the petals of the flowers tickle your nose and hide the lower half of his face, prompting Billy to playfully wiggle his eyebrows. You happily take the bouquet from his hands before leaning in for a sweet kiss. “What brings you to my neck of the woods?”

“Figured I could spring you a bit early from his place,” he hums as he rests a hand on your waist and kisses your neck. “It’s a Friday afternoon in the middle of the summer. Nothing important is getting done, and you know it.”

“You have a fair point.”

“Then let’s get going, sweetheart. I can call in a favor, and we can have a very nice, very sexy weekend in the Hamptons.”

You let out a sigh, resting your forehead on his shoulder. “I'd love that, but I can’t, though.”

“But you just said nothing was going on. Perfect excuse to leave early.”

“I’m watching my friend’s baby this weekend. Her and her husband have to go to his grandma’s funeral in Washington state, and she doesn’t feel comfortable bringing Colin on a plane. I need to grab my weekend bag before I go over to their place. Sorry it puts a wrench in your very sexy Hamptons plans.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s great that you’re doing that for them. I know if I had a baby, I wouldn’t trust them with anyone else but you.”

“Thanks,” you smile.

“Maybe I could swing over with dinner one night. Keep you company.”

“If you keep doing things like that, Frank will tease you about going soft.”

“Yeah, that punk started to do that when we started to date.”

“Well, in that case, no need to prove him right. You’d never hear the end of it.”

“Yeah, you’ve got a point,” he chuckles. “How about this: I bring you to your place, help you grab your things, kiss a bit, and I drop you off at their place. At least we can spend some more time together.”

You chuckle and lean in for another kiss, his hand firmly on the small of your back to hold you in the embrace. “Sounds nice, Russo.”

“Thanks, baby,” you smile as Billy pulls over in front of their house.

“Any time, sweetheart,” he hums, kissing your cheek. “I’ll wait until you make it in.”

As you grab your things, you give Billy one more kiss and get out of the car, moving up the steps and knocking at the door.

“(Y/N)!” your friend Anna says with a hug. “I can’t thank you enough for watching Colin this weekend.”

“Don’t even worry about it. I know how close Ronnie and his Nonna were. It’s the least I can do.”

“Is that Billy?” she asks, leaning to the side and waving to the car.

“Yeah, he picked me up from work.”

“You know, he can stay the whole weekend. It’s not like you’re randy teenagers that are gonna have sex everywhere. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to have a two person team to deal with a two month old.”

“If you and Ronnie are sure—.”

“Of course! Just have him drive around the block, and he can take the spot we’re parked in once we leave.”

With another hug, you scurry down to the car.

“You okay, baby?” Billy asks.

“Wanna help babysit this weekend? I’ve been given the thumbs up,” you smirk.

“Oh, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Please? It’d be easier to watch Colin with another person there. Besides, two month olds aren’t the best conversationalists.”

Billy sighs. “I’m sorry sweetheart, but . . . I’m just not good with babies.”

Your heart sinks because you know he’s lying right to your face— you’ve heard the stories of how good he was when Lisa and Frank Jr. when they were babies. You’ve seen the pictures and how he seems so comfortable, so natural with them, so happy with them, but you don’t push it.

“Okay,” you tell him. “I’ll text you.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Moving back to the front door of your friend’s house you turn back and give Billy a wave goodbye.

“How about we find something to watch while the bottle warms, hm?” you say to Colin as he remains nice and snuggled in the wrap. “What are you in the mood for? Comedy? Period drama? Procedural? Reruns from the 70s and 80s? Channel surfing until we find something we like?” A little grunt that falls from his mouth. “Yeah, channel surfing is good. Sometimes you don’t know what hits the spot until you find it. Wise beyond your two months, my guy.”

When you hear the doorbell ring, your brows immediately scrunch in confusion. Moving over to the bay window, you carefully peer out from behind the curtains, smiling brightly when you see Billy’s lovely profile standing patiently on the stoop.

“We’ve got a visitor, Col,” you coo, walking over to the door to open it. “Hey, Russo.”

“It’s good practice to ask ‘Who is it?’ before opening the door,” he grins.

“My apologies," you chuckle. "What exactly brings you here?”

“I saw the way your face fell when you said I wouldn’t stay,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“Bill, listen—.”

“You really do have a terrible poker face, sweetheart.”

“If you don’t want to be here, I’m not gonna force you.”

“I really do wanna be here, baby. I wanna be here with you. Trust me. I also brought some late night snacks.” With a lopsided smirk, he lifts up a brown paper bag. “Crab rangoons, potstickers, General Tao’s chicken, lo mien—.”

“Snacks? That’s dinner—second dinner!” you giggle, stepping to the side and ushering him in with a jerk of your head.

“Snacks, dinner, whatever,” he smirks. “Figured you’d need to keep your energy up. Sit down, get this little guy fed, and I’ll be right there.”

With a little smile, you move to the living room and adjust, tilting Colin just right to make feeding easiest for him. As he takes the nipple into his mouth, Billy sits down next to you with two plates that have a little bit of everything in it.

“Open, sweetheart,” he hums gently, taking a bite of his egg roll before bringing yours to your lips. You smile before you bite down, humming in delight.

“Thank you,” you chew as you finagle the remote in your free hand and flip through the channels. “As my knight in MSG armor, you get the honor of choosing what we watch.”

“Aw, you’re too kind, princess.”

Settling on reruns of Bob’s Burgers, Billy continues to feed you while Colin finishes his bottle and you burp him. The entire thing feels incredibly domestic, and you can’t help but imagine what it would be like in your shared house, taking care of a baby that’s half you and half Billy. But then you remember how Billy acted when you brought up him babysitting with you. If he had meant what he said, though, then why would he come back with food?

“You alright, babygirl?” Billy asks softly.

“Hm? Yeah,” you nod. “I’m gonna go and give Colin a bath before I put him down. Would you mind terribly cleaning up?”

“You got it, sweetheart.”

Getting up, you hold Colin close as you ascend the staircase and gather everything he needs. You try to prolong the bath as much as you can, your mind racing as you try to analyze Billy’s behavior. Did he feel guilty? Is he trying to save face? Billy is hard to read normally, but this is a whole new branch of difficult you didn’t know was possible. What if it’s something to do with you? Are you the reason he’s acting weird?

Your spiral is cut short when you hear the hardwood of the townhouse shift under his weight.

“Don’t you think he has enough lotion on him?” Billy teases softly as he rests against the door frame. “Any more, he’ll slip right out of your arms.”

“That’s a worry that never crossed my mind before now,” you sigh, looking down at how Colin smiles at you. You listen to Billy walk over, pressing a kiss to your neck as a hand rests on your waist.

“I’ll be your back up guard. He won’t stand a chance if he tries to wriggle away.”

You let out a hum of a laugh as you wipe your hands clean before you move to put a onesie on him, carefully zipping it up before Billy follows you to Colin’s nursery.

“Can you grab me one of the books?” you ask.

“Any one in particular?”

“I know they have Madeline—I’m the one that gave it to them.”

“Isn’t that more of—?”

“More of a what, Russo?” you challenge softly with a raised eyebrow as you sit in the rocking chair.

“Nothing,” he says with a shake of his head.

“That’s what I thought,” you smirk.

Taking the book from his hand, you open the book and start to read, gently rocking back and forth in the chair. Colin is quick to fall asleep, likely due to the bath, and Billy takes the book from your fingers carefully as you continue to rock him to make sure he’s out. You gingerly stand up and place him in his crib, tip-toeing out of the room with Billy.

“How about you try to get some rest?” Billy whispers, kissing your cheek. “I’ll stay up a bit longer, keep an ear out for him.”

“Bill, I—.”

“Isn’t there a saying about sleeping when the baby sleeps? At least one of us should heed the advice.”

You stop in the hallway and turn around, cradling his face in your hands, pressing a soft, sweet kiss to his lips.

“I love you, Billy,” you whisper. “Thank you.”

Billy gives you one more kiss before gently rubbing your arms, up and down. “Sleep well, princess.”

Just as quickly as you settle in and fall asleep, you get stirred awake when you her tiny little cries make their way over the baby monitor. Sitting up in bed, you rub the sleep out of your eyes and turn your attention to he nightstand where the device rests.

“Hey, buddy,” you hear Billy say over the monitor. “Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay, bud, you’re safe. I’m here for you.” You listen to him let out a soft sigh as he bends over to pick Colin up, undoubtedly trying to rock him back to sleep. “No need to cry,” he hushes. After a few moments, you listen to him start singing, his voice soft, calming, and down right beautiful. It’s so unexpected, you sit in the bed, frozen in surprise as you listen. Slowly, Colin starts to calm down as Billy keeps on singing. You can’t help but smile, and you slip out of the covers and quietly pad over to the nursery, resting against the doorframe as you listen to Billy finish the song, carefully putting a sleeping Colin back down in his crib.

“I hoped that you wouldn’t get woken up,” he says gently as he turns around and approaches you. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” you say with a soft smile. “I heard it over the monitor.”

“Oh,” he says as his cheeks flush pink.

“Don’t be embarrassed. It’s cute.”

He shuffles over to where you stand, wrapping an arm around you, pressing a lingering kiss on the crown of your head.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” he murmurs as you move to the living room. “You’ve been a bit off all night.”

“It’s nothing, Bill, I promise.”

He kisses your forehead, tucking wisps of hair behind your ear. “You know you can tell me anything. What’s going on?”

His voice is so gentle and his chocolate eyes stare at you like a needy puppy.

“You’re so good with him,” you tell him. “I’ve heard the stories from Frank—I’ve seen the pictures . . . I don’t know. I’m just overthinking it Billy, really, I—.”

“No, no, c’mon. Keep talking to me. What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”

You let out a breath as you sit on the sofa and pick up one of Colin’s stuffies. “Is it because Anna and Ronnie are my friends and not yours? I know you’re not as close with them as you are with Frank, but I didn’t think that’s be a deterrent for babysitting. I mean, it should be easier to—.”

“Is that what you think this is about?”

Your heart jumps in your throat before rocketing to the bottom of your stomach. “I told you I was overthinking, and I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—.”

“Can I be honest with you, sweetheart?”

You nod, and Billy adjusts before he leans forward to gently take your hands in his. “I didn’t want to come because I didn’t want to see you with a baby.”

Your eyebrows pull together as a small frown pulls on your lips. “I . . . I’m not following.”

He sighs and sits down carefully on the ottoman. “I knew that if I saw you with Colin all weekend, I’d want to have a baby with you.”

You look at him, desperately trying to read all the emotions on his face. “Is . . . Would that be the worst thing?”

He lets out a breath as he looks down at the floor, almost like he’s ashamed to look at you. “I never knew my dad. I don’t have a relationship with my mom. I’m screwed up enough. I don’t want to screw up another human being.”

“I guess we never really talked about anything that far ahead.”

“No,” he says quietly. “We haven’t.”

Leaning forward, you kiss his forehead, running your fingers through his hair and cradling his face.

“When my brother found out he was gonna be a dad, he was worried about a million things—how he was gonna screw up, if his kids were gonna be assholes, if he would be enough. And my dad told him that because he was worrying about all these things when he didn’t even know the sex of the baby, he was gonna be just fine. All those things showed how much he cared.” From down the hall, you can hear how Colin starts to fuss, and you lean back from his touch, pulling your hands from his as you throw your hair into a pony tail, but not before you lean forward to kiss his temple, running your fingers through his hair. “For what it’s worth,” you say softly, “I think you’d be a great father, Billy.”

“Sweetheart—.”

“Get some rest, Billy. You’ve been up since four this morning and you watched Colin while I slept.”

Moving from him before he can protest more, you go to Colin’s nursery as you hold him, letting a tear roll down your cheek while you console him. It’s not long until he calms down, his tiny fingers curling into your shirt to hold onto you tight. You have to carefully pry his little fingers open so you can put him down, slowly as to not wake him back up.

“He all good now?” Billy asks as you slide back under the blankets.

“Out like a light,” you tell him, pecking a kiss to his lips. “Just needed a new diaper and some cuddles.”

Turning on the mattress, Billy wraps his arms around you and nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck.

“You’re the only person that I’d want to have a baby with,” he whispers. “I’m not ready, but . . . I hope you’d still want to have a baby with me. Some day.”

His words hit you in a spot you didn’t know about, and you just snuggle down onto him. “I do,” you whisper. “I just . . . We have some things to talk about.”

There’s a thick silence in the bedroom, but the way that Billy rolls you over and presses a pillow-soft kiss to your lips, tucking your head under his chin and wrapping you secure in his arms, it tells you that he’s open to a future he never truly thought of—not in a way that mattered to him before.

“So . . .” you start softly. “Hypothetically . . . Potentially, would this ‘someday baby’ . . . Would it be after a hypothetical wedding? If that’s something you’d be interested in. Hypothetically.”

His silence, even though it is only a few seconds, it feels like forever, and it feels like you might have just ended your relationship while cuddled in his arms.

“Hypothetically?” he murmurs. “No.”

Your heart absolutely drops, and you can feel the tears well immediately.

“Realistically?” Billy continues. “Absolutely.”

Sitting up in bed and pulling out of his arms, you turn to face him and smack him. “Russo, you can’t do that!”

“Ow!” he says, rubbing the spot where you smacked him. “You’ll wake Colin!”

“I don’t care!”

“Okay, I realize that wasn’t the smartest way to say things, but . . . I love you, sweetheart, I do. And after we talk things over, like really talk them over, make some pictures clearer . . . Yeah, it’s in our future. Our real future.”

Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger @steampowerednightvaler @themusingsofmany @just-the-hiddles @toozmanykids @dangertoozmanykids101 @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop @itwasthereaminuteago @peter1ismybrother @hellskitchens-whore @dpaccione

Billy Russo Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters

#billy russo #billy russo fanfic #billy russo fanfiction #billy russo x reader #billy russo x fem!reader #billy russo fluff #billy russo angst #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #the punisher #the punisher netflix #the punisher disney+

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quickandsilvers · 6 months

Note

hey! i love your writing but do you think its possible if you could write less smut and more fluff?? im not that into reading smut and you have used it in 90 percent of your writing for Peter (no hate!<3) i just think a range of different fics would be awesome and i would really like it! :)

Hey!! I understand that not everyone is into smut but with all respect i just like writing it in. Alot of my fics have fluff and smut together, so i never often do ‘just smut’ in what i write. 💕 I really appreciate that you like my writing and i could never be more grateful for that, but if smut isn’t what you’re looking for, im probably not the best blog for what you want😅

Ofc i have some colin/peter fics in process with just fluff, so hopefully that will make do😊 Im still going to write smut but i will try to incorporate what you have suggested where i can!!

Heres some links to fics i have with no smut in:

#peter maximoff #quicksilver #evan peters #xmen #evan peters masterlist #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff fluff #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff smut #xmen peter maximoff #evan peters x reader

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alyswritings · 2 years

Text

Sister or Daughter

Request: omg hear me out. I had an idea for another Bridgerton fic. it is still Anthony's daughter but with a twist. what if to avoid a scandal the family decided to tell the people that the baby was violets and Edmunds? (maybe he died a lil later?) and she grows up thinking it as well, basically violet adopts the baby, and she is raised as Anthony's sister but he is like incredibly protective of her, more than his other sisters ofc and a lot more gentle. anyways the only ones who know the truth are the bridgerton sibling except Francesca, hyacinth, and Gregory cause I feel like they were too young at the time and could have been fooled. anyways what if the truth comes to light? maybe not to the public but to yn? what if a sibling in a fit of rage says something about it to use it against Anthony and then that's how they find out and its just chaos?

Anthony Bridgerton x daughter!reader

Summary: Y/N finds out her life has been a lie.

Warnings: lying, i don't really know what to put, but it's angsty lol

a/n: thank you for the request!! sorry it took like forever to get out! hope you all enjoy!

(gif not mine)

Anthony paces outside of the drawing room nervously. He knows he has to tell his parents about the pregnancy, but his mind is going through all of the worst case scenarios. He's not sure his hands have ever been this sweaty. And it's hard to breathe.

"Anthony? Son, are you all right?" He turns to find his father in the entry of the drawing room.

"Yes. Uh, ye-- yes, father. I must talk to you and mother about something." Anthony says, putting his hands behind his back, fiddling with his fingers.

"Of course. Come in." Edmund encourages. Anthony walks in, Edmund close behind him. Edmund joins his wife on the couch, both looking at Anthony expectantly. Benedict, Daphen, Eloise, and Colin are on the other side of the room, Benedict drawing, Daphne doing embroidery, and Colin and Eloise are reading books.

"What is it, dear?" Violet sweetly asks.

"Um... well, I... uh..." Anthony takes a deep breath. "I was having relations with a woman and she is now with child." He quickly states.

Anthony's siblings all seem to choke on air at the news, staring at the eldest Bridgerton sibling with wide eyes.

"What?" Edmund asks, not certain if he actually understood his eldest.

"I... a woman is with child. My child." Anthony says. His voice shakes slightly as his nerves have rised even more.

"Oh, dear." Violet whispers, putting a hand to her head.

"Are you certain?" Edmund asks.

"Yes." Anthony nods.

"We, uh... we should go." Benedict mumbles to Colin.

"We should." Colin whispers, nodding. Yet neither of them move.

"All right, well... do you plan to be in its life?" Edmund asks. "As the father, I believe you shall be, but it is your decision."

"I... more than likely, yes." Anthony answers. He's not fully sure if he's ready to be a father and he doesn't even know how he feels about the whole situation yet, but if the child needs anything, he would be there.

"What about our reputation? This could destroy everything. The children may never marry." Violet stresses.

"We do need to figure out how to avoid a scandal. If possible." Edmund agrees.

"I understand." Anthony says.

"We could say the baby is ours. Our ninth child. That's believable. Then Anthony can be around them and... and perhaps the mother." Violet says.

"Nobody outside of this room is to know. Aside from some of the help since it will be obvious your mother isn't pregnant." Edmund says.

"We'll tell everybody I'm bedridden. The last pregnancy with Hyacinth was hard enough, it's a believable story." Violet says.

"Your other siblings cannot know. Not Francesca, Gregory, or Hyacinth. No friends, no neighbors, nobody." Edmund declares.

"I understand." Anthony nods once.

- - -

During the pregnancy with Anthony's child, the mother had moved in with the Bridgertons. But as far as the ton knew, she had left town. She never left the Bridgerton house, often alone in her temporary bedroom. After the baby was born, she was going to actually leave town.

Violet stayed in the house and the family often went to Aubrey Hall for visits so that Violet and Elizabeth, the mother of Anthony's child, could actually get fresh air. And so they were around less prying eyes.

But during one of those visits, Edmund had died of a bee sting. It sent the family down a spiral, Violet going into a depression. Anthony had to step up and take care of his siblings in the wake of his father's death, pushing his own grief aside for them.

He was handed all of the responsibilities, everything coming at him full force.

But after nine secretive, stressful, terrible nine months, the baby was finally born.

The labor took a few hours and only some of the maids were in the room with Elizabeth. After the baby was born, a maid came out of the room to where Anthony was waiting in the hallway.

Anthony looks up at the door opening, seeing the nurse walk out, a small bundle of blankets in hand.

"Here she is." The nurse softly announces, gently patting the baby's back to keep her calm.

"She? It's a girl?" Anthony asks.

"Yes, my lord." The nurse nods, a soft smile on her face. "Would you like to hold her?"

Anthony hesitates, but after a moment he nods. The nurse carefully transports the baby into Anthony's arm, the man easily finding a comfortable position to hold her in. He knows full well how to hold a baby, having many younger siblings.

Once she's in his arms, Anthony feels an overwhelming sense of love and protection come over him. Tears spring to his eyes, but he holds them back not wanting to cry in front of the maid.

"I'm sure your mother wouldn't mind you naming her." The nurse says.

"I'd have to check. Since she's a, uh... a sibling... she'd have to start with an I." Anthony says.

"I know she isn't supposed to be your child. But you should be able to name her, at the very least. I or no I. Miss Elizabeth didn't have any suggestions." The nurse states, a caring smile on her face.

"Could I be alone with her, please? The baby?" Anthony asks.

"Of course." The nurse nods before retreating back into the bedroom.

Anthony takes a deep breath, looking down at his daughter. Well, as far as most other people are concerned, his sister.

"Hello, darling." Anthony quietly greets, slowly walking to the bench in the hall. He's scared if he moves too quickly he'll drop her. Or that she'll break. "I'm sorry this is a... unique situation." He says, sitting down. He holds the baby close to him.

"Perhaps one day when you're older you'll understand. Or this will all go terribly and the family may fall apart. God, I don't know what I'm doing." Anthony mumbles to himself.

He stares down at the baby who has her eyes peacefully shut. Anthony strokes her tiny hand with his pointer finger, only stopping when the baby wraps her hand around his finger lightly.

Anthony softly smiles, looking back to her face and finding her eyes now open, matching dark brown eyes staring up into his.

"You're so beautiful, my darling." Anthony whispers. He feels the tears spring back up, a sad but loving smile on his face. "I already love you so much."

Before he can help it, a tear falls out of Anthony's eye, dropping right onto the baby's cheek. The baby starts to whine and Anthony quickly brushes the tear away.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, dear. My bad." Anthony mutters, making sure her face is completely dry. A few moments later, Y/N is calm again. "I suppose you need a name."

After thinking for a few moments, Anthony constantly rubbing his hand over the baby's head or stomach or hand or cheek, he finally comes up with something.

"How about Y/N? You like Y/N?" He asks her, earning a small babble in return. "Yes. I think it's good. Y/N Bridgerton it is, then."

Anthony places the softest kiss to her forehead, knowing he's going to do anything to make sure that she grows up happy and loved. Rather she knows she's his child or not.

- - -

The first few years of Y/N's life were a little hard for the Bridgertons. At least for Violet and Anthony. Anthony found it heartbreaking that he had to simply just watch as his daughter was raised, calling him by his name and Violet by 'mama'. He wishes he could be called 'papa' by her, but knows he can't.

Benedict spends a lot of time trying to get Anthony's mind off of the child, but even after multiple glasses of alcohol, she's still all Anthony can think about. How she can't be his and how they're lying to her every day.

He hates that most of the family is lying to her, not able to tell her the truth. No, she probably wouldn't understand it at her young age, but he still hates that they know and are not able to change anything.

Despite pretending to not be her father, Anthony couldn't help but to treat her differently from his sisters. He's more protective and fusses over her much more when she gets a scrape on the knee than if any of his sisters were to get one.

Anthony lets Y/N steal his food all the time and gives her pieces of food. Something he has never done with his sisters, unless they were upset and he was trying to cheer them up.

He does whatever Y/N asks him to.

"Why does Anthony favor Y/N?" Hyacinth once asked her two oldest sisters.

"He doesn't favor her. They simply just have a... a closer bond." Daphne tells her.

"But they're so far apart in age." Hyacinth says.

"Well, so are us and you. We get along, don't we?" Daphne asks.

"Yes. But you two don't fuss over me like he does with her. He doesn't fuss over anybody else like that but Y/N." Hyacinth says.

"Well, he had to raise her since she was born since she was born at a... a difficult time." Eloise says. "He probably just feels obligated to look after her more. He's practically her father." She says, earning an elbow to the ribs from Daphne.

"I think papa would've loved her." Hyacinth says.

"I think so, too." Daphne softly smiles at her youngest sibling who runs off to play with Gregory. Daphne turns to Eloise, a stern look on her face. ""Practically her father"? Are you mental?"

"What? He is." Eloise says.

"Yes, but nobody can know that." Daphne hisses.

"Why must we lie?" Eloise asks.

"Because of our reputation. You know having a child when not married is unacceptable." Daphne says.

"If he loved her enough, he would not care about that." Eloise says.

"You know he loves her. It was a difficult decision." Daphne says.

"It was barely his decision. Mother and father came up with it all on their own. They gave him no say." Eloise says.

"I suppose that's true. But we were sworn to secrecy and we are keeping the secret. If Anthony or mama ever decide to tell the world, or even just the others, then that's okay. But we are not going to be the ones to say anything."

"All right, all right."

- - -

"Now, what story would you like?" Anthony questions Y/N. The five year old is tucked into bed and every night Anthony reads her a story before she goes to sleep.

"Make one up." Y/N grins.

"Make one up?" Anthony repeats, Y/N nodding, a small grin on her face. "Oh, my. All right, give me a few moments."

Anthony sits on the bed, resting against the soft headboard. He puts his hand on Y/N's head, going through her hair and gently massaging her scalp. "Okay..." Anthony starts before beginning the story he was able to come up, adding things as he goes.

By the end, Anthony looks down, finding Y/N sound asleep. Anthony softly smiles, brushing some hair out of her face. He gets off the bed and leans down, kissing her forehead gently.

"Goodnight, my love." Anthony whispers.

- - -

Anthony and Daphne are arguing, against each other due to the whole Duke of Hastings relation that seems to be going on between Daphne and him.

Neither siblings notices the five year old standing outside the drawing room. Y/N had a nightmare and wanted to find one of her family members for comfort, but was distracted by the yelling between the oldest Bridgerton boy and girl.

"If anybody were to find out about you two in the garden, it would ruin this family's reputation!" Anthony shouts.

"Oh, you are one to talk!" Daphne sarcastically laughs. "If anybody were to ruin it, it would be you! You are the one to have a child out of wedlock!"

"I know what I did!" Anthony bellows. "I know what happened! And I have to live with it every day. But nobody knows about that."

"Well, they should! You choose to lie to your daughter every day of her life instead of telling her the truth! She should be able to know!"

"She's five! How would she understand?"

"She would eventually! Y/N deserves to know that you are her father and not her brother. You lie every day and we have to lie, too, and it is tiring!"

"What, you think I enjoy lying to her? You think I don't want to be the one she immediately runs to when getting hurt or-or you think I don't want to be called 'papa' instead of Anthony? But--"

"But it would ruin our reputation, yes, I know. But is that really more important than your daughter knowing the truth?"

"I'm your daughter?"

Both siblings turn to find a teary eyed Y/N in the doorway of the room. Anthony feels his heart drop and his eyes widen. Even if she were to ever find out, it should not have been this way.

Daphne's heart breaks at the sad look in her niece's eyes. She knows Y/N shouldn't have found out about her true relation to the family this way and she feels awful that she's the one who accidentally informed her.

"Y/N--" Anthony starts, beginning to go over to her, but the young girl dashes out of the room, running as quickly as she can to get away.

Anthony lets out a deep sigh, rubbing his hands over his face and through his hair.

"I'm sorry, Anthony. I-- I didn't know she was there. I wouldn't want her to find out this way." Daphne says.

"No, it... you were right. She should know. I know that. I'm the one who let the lies start in the first place. I should've told mother and father that I wanted to keep her. Actually keep her... as mine. But I went along with their plan."

"You should go talk to her." Daphne says.

"If she'll let me." Anthony scoffs. "God, what have I done?" He mutters to himself.

Anthony makes his way out of the room, going to Y/N's room. He walks in, finding Y/N, his mother, and the rest of his siblings there. They had all heard Y/N sobbing and rushed in.

Y/N managed to explain what she had heard. Violet was instantly bombarded with questions from her three youngest. The three who knew all exchanged glances, worried about what was to come, but also relieved the secret was finally out.

"Let's go, children." Violet urges.

"Will you explain everything then?" Hyacinth questions.

"Not tonight. Go back to bed." Violet orders her three youngest. She gains complaints from them, but still sends them to bed. After the three are gone, Violet shuts the door after them.

"Anthony, what happened?" Violet strictly asks.

"Daphne and I got into a fight. The truth about Y/N came out." Anthony briefly explains.

"All of you knew?" Y/N asks, looking between her siblings and mother. Well... she guesses they're her aunt, uncles, father, and grandmother. They all have guilty looks, giving the girl her answer.

"Y/N, darling..." Anthony tries.

"No! Get out!" Y/N yells. "I don't want to see any of you!"

"Y/N--"

"You've been lying! Leave!"

"Let's go." Benedict ushers his two younger siblings out.

Y/N lays on her side, her back facing the two remaining Bridgertons as she starts to cry. Her sobs break Anthony's heart, the man only wanting to scoop her into his arms and hold her tightly.

"Come along, Anthony." Violet quietly encourages. "She isn't going to talk right now."

"I'm sorry, dearest. I never wanted to lie to you. I hope one day you can forgive me." Anthony tells Y/N. He leaves the room, beelining for his office, his eyes stinging as he forces his tears to stay in.

Anthony slams the office door shut behind him, pacing the room. He slumps into his chair, burying his face in his hands. Tears stream down his face, a sob managing to escape him here and there.

Anthony pours a glass of whiskey, downing it immediately. He repeats the process, ignoring the tears.

- - -

Anthony lets out a small groan as he wakes up. His eyes squint, blinded by the sun filtering into the room. He lifts his head up, realizing he's still at his desk in his office. An empty glass is next to him, the almost empty bottle of whiskey not far away either.

Anthony groans, holding his head, grimacing at the pain.

"Oh, God." Anthony grumbles. He remembers last night's events and his heart cracks more. He doesn't know how Y/N is going to react to everything or how it's going to be different now.

Anthony sighs, knowing he has to get up, so he reluctantly leaves the office. Anthony changes into fresh clothes before going to the drawing room where he finds his entire family.

"Morning, dear." Violet greets.

"Morning." Anthony quietly says. He looks to where Y/N is sitting on one of the sofas next to Francesca, the older girl reading to her. "Morning, Y/N."

The girl doesn't pay him any attention, keeping her focus on the book Francesca has.

"She, um... she isn't talking to anybody but the youngest three." Daphne informs.

"Don't blame her. We have been lying to her face for five years." Benedict murmurs, earning smacks from his mother and older brother. "Ow."

"Y/N, may I talk to you?" Anthony asks. She still doesn't acknowledge him.

"How long do you think this will go on for?" Colin asks.

"I'd personally never talk to you lot again if you lied to me about my family." Eloise comments.

"Shut it." Daphne quietly hisses.

- - -

Two weeks later, Y/N is still pretty good at giving most of her family the cold shoulder. She'll speak to them if she absolutely has to, but it's only short answers.

The young girl is currently sitting on the swings, staring at the ground as she lightly pushes her feet, not having much enthusiasm to actually swing.

She hears a throat clear and looks up to see Anthony standing near her.

"Hi." He greets. She doesn't respond, just looking back down at the ground. "Mind if I join you?" He asks. Y/N doesn't answer.

Anthony goes to the other swing and sits down. He lightly pushes the swing back and forth, much like Y/N is doing.

"Listen, love." Anthony starts, fiddling with his hands nervously. "I am deeply... deeply sorry for us making you think you were our sibling. We should not have lied to you about how you fit into the family. It was wrong."

"Why did you do it then?" Y/N quietly asks.

"We... we had an image to uphold. And none of us really wanted to break it. We would be... our family would've been looked down on. Having a child without being married is... is wrong."

"And that's what you did?" Y/N asks.

"Yes." Anthony nods.

"So I'm a mistake?" She asks, finally looking over at him. Her eyes are glossy which breaks Anthony's heart.

"No. No, darling, not at all." Anthony states. He gets off his swing and kneels in front of her. "You are not at all a mistake. You are... you are the greatest thing to ever happen to me. And I should not have agreed to keeping the fact that you're my daughter a secret. I shouldn't have let it go this far."

"And I am still deeply sorry for that and I will forever be sorry for it. I intended to tell you one day. I did not want you to fight out the way you did. You should've been able to find out in a calmer setting."

"So are we gonna keep pretending I'm not yours?" Y/N asks.

"No. No. I've had a lot of time to think these past two weeks... and I am more than ready to reveal the truth. Keeping you hidden is not the correct thing to do and it never was. From now on, I promise to not lie to you about anything."

"You are my daughter and you always will be."

"It's going to take some time to get used to that." Y/N informs.

"I know. However long it takes, I will be there and you can get comfortable with everything at your own pace." Anthony says. "But you need to know I love you. More than anything."

"I love you, too... papa." Y/N says, making a face at the name. "It's still slightly weird." She says making Anthony lightly chuckle. "But not that weird. You are the only papa I've known anyway."

Anthony softly smiles. He leans forward and kisses her on the forehead.

He knows it would take a while for Y/N to fully accept the truth and get used to it, but he was willing to wait and provide her with unconditional love no matter what.

Taglist: @glxwingrxse

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x daughter reader #anthony bridgerton x daughter!reader #bridgerton #violet bridgerton #daphne bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #colin bridgerton

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peterpparkrr · 2 years

Text

(Not) the same as it was - ch. 3 | A Bridgerton Series

Series: (Not) the same as it was

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x OFC

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: Lady Josephine Wescott has a semi-honest conversation with her godmother. A young Josephine Saville and Anthony Bridgerton fall in love.

A/N: This is a short chapter but there is a LOT more meaty goodness to come! As always thank you for your patience with me as I struggle to write multiple fics at the same time.

previous part // next part

series masterlist

Bridgerton House, London, 1814

“Will you marry again?” Violet asks her as the pair sit across from each other.

For the first time she can remember, it’s just the two of them in the room, no other Bridgertons are running around, distracting their mother. Which means that Jo is the sole subject of Violet’s attention.

If she didn’t love Violet, she’d be terrified.

“I don’t know,” Jo admits. She knows that she should. She has nothing from her first marriage, and of course, she could live with her father, but it would look odd from the outside. A Dowager Countess moving into her father’s Edinburgh townhome?

The gossip would never cease.

Everyone will expect her to remarry.

“Why did you never remarry, Violet?” Jo asks her godmother.

“How could I?” Violet replies as she shrugs her shoulders slightly. Jo can already see the wetness that’s pooling in Violet’s eyes. Her sheer love for Edmund is still written across her face all these years after he’d passed.

“That’s the same way my father talks about my mother,” Jo replies with a small smile, thinking about her parents' devotion.

In her childhood, Jo had never realized just how lucky she was to have two shining examples of sheer matrimonial devotion. How rare that kind of marriage was.

Jo had been so naive then.

“And how is your father coping with his daughter being so far away from him?” Violet asks. “I know that he and your mother were already planning the move to be closer to you before she passed. He must be lonely up in Edinburgh by himself.”

“My father was the one who wanted me to come to London. He twisted Aunt Elizabeth’s arm until she agreed to chaperone,” Jo admits to her. “I think he hoped I’d make a love match this second time around.”

“These men may surprise you,” Violet tells her. Hoping her goddaughter would stay open to the possibility of marriage. “I know the conditions were very different the last time you were here, but I hope you will allow yourself to open up to the possibilities.”

“Everything has changed. I’m not the same person I was when I left,” Jo tells Violet softly.

“You never did tell me what happened between you and Anthony, Josephine,” Violet tells her softly. “I’ve never asked Anthony, and I don’t want to pry…”

“There’s not much to tell, we grew apart,” Jo replies. She does her best to keep her voice even, but she knows that she can’t help but give away that there’s rather much to tell on that subject. Not that she has any interest in sharing it.

“What about Eloise, is there any hope she’ll be interested in finding a match this season?” Jo asks, swiftly changing the subject.

Violet allows for the not-so-subtle redirection. Though she can’t help but want to table the discussion for another time. When she can press Josephine with hopes of discovering what it was that caused it all to go so wrong between the pair.

Aubrey Hall, Kent, 1802

Christmas Eve with the Bridgertons and Savilles had always been a grand affair. With the current count of children now at eight with the recent addition of baby Gregory, Aubrey Hall was fit to burst from all the excitement.

It was near impossible to not be swept up in the chaos the younger Bridgertons had created thanks to their many new presents.

“Have you seen Anthony?” Jo asked Benedict as the pair stood near the fireplace, watching Josephine’s father show Colin and Daphne how to swing the mallets of the family’s brand-new Pall Mall set.

Why her father had thought it was a good idea to gift the Bridgerton children, the most blood-thirty, cutthroat brood of children Jo had ever met, a competitive game that required mallets would be a mystery to Jo.

“No, he disappeared a while ago, I think he wanted to be able to hear himself think,” Benedict tells her.

“Ahh,” Jo hummed as she surveyed the room.

“I’ll be right back,” Jo told Benedict.

“Anthony?” Jo called out as she stepped through the doorway of the library, having followed the faint glow of candlelight to the room.

“Oh, Jo,” Anthony greeted her as he stood from the chair he’d been sitting in.

“I was looking for you,” She replied as she made her way over to where was standing by the window, her hands hidden behind her back.

“You found me,” He replied with a small smile.

“You missed most of the gift-giving, the drawing room looks like a battlefield,” She tells him.

Anthony grins.

“Thank you for the present, it’s beautiful,” Jo adds as her right-hand reaches up to play with the necklace she’d immediately clasped around her neck once the bow was removed from the box.

The chain was delicate, and the small pearl drop-down was understated but perfect in her mind. She had no idea how Anthony had known she would like it. She can hardly imagine him asking her mother or his own for their input on the gift.

And the potential meaning that it might have from the pair.

“I’m glad you like it,” Anthony replies.

A necklace was not a gift given to a friend, not from a man. And Jo was well aware of that. And so, despite the potential ramifications it might have, Jo had made a rash decision, deciding that this was her moment, it was now or never.

“Don’t you want your present?” Jo asked him.

“I didn’t want to assume you got me anything, I didn’t see anything from you in the pile,” Anthony admits.

“I didn’t want to give it to you in front of everyone,” Jo explains.

“What did you get me, Miss Saville? Certainly not something salacious?” Anthony teased as he gazed into her eyes intently, his mouth curled into a smile.

“Close your eyes,” She tells him as she steps toward him.

Anthony obliged, his eyes fluttering closed as Jo studied him.

“Should I hold out my hands?” Anthony asked, his voice dipping just below a whisper.

“Yes,” Jo replied quietly.

Anthony brought his hands out in front of him, holding them open, palm up.

Jo considered him for a quiet moment of anticipation. Anthony Bridgerton was the most handsome man she had ever known. If she was an artist she would paint, or sketch, or sculpt him for the rest of her life and never tire of using him as a subject. He was perfect.

And so Jo placed her hands in his, wrapping her fingers around them as she stepped to him and pressed her lips to his, her own eyes falling closed.

Jo hesitated for a painful moment when she felt Anthony freeze, and when his hands pulled out her own her eyes flew open and she was certain she had made a terrible mistake.

But she opened her eyes to see Anthony already looking back at her, not in- as she had feared- horror, but with an unexpected expression that she could not fully recognize.

Anthony’s eyes were dark as she stared back at him, but before she could open her mouth to apologize Anthony’s hands reached up to her cheeks, and pulled her face back to his own, returning her kiss with one of his own, one that felt impossibly deeper, and that lit something within her as her own now empty hands reached for the lapels of Anthony’s jacket, pulling him as close as she could manage.

When they finally broke apart the grin on Jo’s face was so wide it almost hurt.

“I-I… you have no idea how long I’ve been wishing I could do that,” Anthony admitted in a hoarse tone as he looked at Jo, brushing a loose strand of her hair back behind her ear.

“Happy Christmas, Anthony,” She told him in a soft whisper.

“I asked your father if I could court you,” Anthony admits.

“You-you did?” Jo asked, the shock evident in her voice. Her father hadn’t said a single thing to her.

“Is that alright?” Anthony asked nervously.

“I’m the one who kissed you,” Jo reminds him with a shove at his shoulder.

“It’s more than alright,” She adds as she links her hand in his, brushing her thumb over his own. “Just promise me one thing. Promise me we’ll always be friends first?”

“Always. I could never lose you, Jo,” Anthony replies, punctuating his promise with the press of his lips to her own.

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