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thefrogdalorian · 3 months

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Across The Stars

Word Count: 5815 Rating: MATURE 18+ MDNI Summary: Your riduur, Din Djarin, whisks you away to Naboo to enjoy the Festival of Love celebrations on the bountiful planet. While there, you reflect on just how much the formidable man, who chose you to be his, truly means to you. Content Warnings: Non-graphic smut, vaguely suggestive scenes but the acts/body parts aren't explicitly described. Author's Note: Happy Valentine's Day friends! In my head, this fic takes place in the same universe as A New Dawn. As you can tell, the yearning was intense this year so things got a little steamier than I expected when I sat down to write this. But I actually quite enjoyed writing such scenes lol, even though I don't really consider myself a smut writer, especially not for x reader fics. The urge hits once every few months and (un)luckily for you it coincided with Valentine's day hehe. Anywayyyy, really hope you enjoyed this one, would love to know your thoughts. Thanks as always for reading!

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For the first few months after you had begun travelling around the galaxy with a Mandalorian, you had felt somewhat self-conscious about how many eyes he drew. No matter which planet you visited, it appeared that people were unable to avert their gaze away from him. You understood it, to some extent. After all, Mandalorians were feared throughout the galaxy for their formidable fighting ability, their ruthlessness and deadly accuracy.

Before you began travelling with Din, you would probably have joined the throngs of people who gawped at him. You certainly had the first time you had laid eyes on him, when he strolled into the run-down cantina where you worked, seeking information for some shadowy figure’s whereabouts. Fortunately, you had intimate knowledge of the location the lead would take him to. So you had joined him to guide him and simply never left.

He used The Child, who you would eventually discover was named Grogu, as an excuse to keep you around. Din had offered you a job as his caregiver as he desperately needed one for when he was off capturing his bounties. But you always knew – even back then, long before you had confessed your feelings to each other – that he genuinely appreciated your company too.

After a while, the self-consciousness you felt when walking around various planets with a Mandalorian gave way to feelings of bitter jealousy. You hated that others got to look at him, with his broad shoulders and confident swagger. How dare they look at the man you placed above all others with their undeserving eyes? Such feelings of resentment threatened to consume your entire being.

Everything changed after you and Din had confessed your feelings for each other.

Now, there was no jealousy, no possessiveness. You were secure in the love he showed towards you, revelling in it and relishing every moment when he took the opportunity to remind you of how deeply he adored you. Since that fateful day when your relationship with Din had changed permanently, there had been no such feelings when you stepped out with him. So, when Din had whisked you away to Naboo, on a trip to coincide with the Festival of Love which was famously celebrated on the bountiful planet, there were no lingering negative emotions. Just immense pride and contentment that this man was all yours.

As you strolled through the wide main street towards the Theed Royal Palace, where you would enjoy a guided tour, many of the townsfolk and tourists alike were dazzled by the presence of a Mandalorian on their planet. You watched with a small smirk as they stopped and stared, excitedly pointing at the gleaming Mandalorian who was strolling down the streets as they chattered enthusiastically in hushed tones. Such an experience would once have irritated you, perhaps you would have even snapped at them. Now, though, you were secure in the knowledge that no matter how many people looked in his direction... ultimately, it was you, not them, who was beside him. No one ever else would get to know The Mandalorian in the same way that you did. He had chosen you, and you alone, to be by his side for the rest of your lives.

You had long known that Din only wanted you, but it had recently been confirmed with the vows you had sworn together – the riduurok. You had promised to be one when together and parted, to share all and to raise warriors. It was a solemn Mandalorian ritual which had cemented your commitment to one another, and you liked the fact that it was not an intensely formal experience. You and Din had woken up one day in the cabin you shared on Nevarro and decided that it was finally time to take the step. By nightfall, you were riduurs.

If your marriage wasn’t already enough, to prove your commitment to each other, the strong arm that snaked its way around your waist certainly was. You sighed happily when a gloved hand settled on your hip before Din drew you into his side. Such a move only served to further underline your commitment to each other for any onlookers. It was clear that The Mandalorian was taken. And he belonged to you.

Being on Naboo, in the bustling, beautiful city of Theed, already made you feel as though there was something magical in the air. A palpable electricity, perhaps. But glancing over at the broad, handsome man in all of his glistening, unpainted beskar’gam glory as he held you close to him made you feel positively dizzy with glee. You knew his actions were as much for your benefit as it was for his. Din knew how shy you had felt about being in public with him at first, so he always made a point of drawing you close. Yet, you also knew how much Din loved holding you in his arms. There were days when he could not keep his hands off you, which was sometimes problematic when a certain green child was running around.

Din was always an attentive father though. He had once told you that The Child was his only priority and you knew that while Grogu’s wellbeing was still of paramount importance to him, somewhere on the way his capacity for love had expanded to include you, too. You hoped that Grogu was enjoying his time with Peli Motto on Tatooine. When planning your trip away, there had only been one name on your list who the pair of you trusted with your child. While you knew that Grogu could be a handful sometimes, you were certain that he had more than met his match in the eccentric mechanic of Mos Eisley Hangar 3-5.

Being away from the little boy for a few days was surely difficult for Din, and you knew holding the only member of Clan Mudhorn in his presence close to him was for his comfort as much as yours. Despite his initial shyness, Din loved to show everyone that you were his by placing his hands upon you when you were in public. His tight hold on your waist conveyed a strong message to the people of Theed: this Mandalorian was taken. No amount of staring or gawking on the part of any passersby would ever change that fact.

✯✯✯

Your first day on Naboo had been a complete whirlwind. There had scarcely been time to breathe. After your tour of the Theed Royal Palace was complete, rather than staying in Naboo’s capital, you and Din took a transport to the small oceanside city of Kaadara where you had spent your first evening. Din had felt that, while stunning, Theed was a little too crowded and filled with tourists for his liking. Although you had both enjoyed spending a few hours there strolling in the sun, mesmerised by the architecture and stunning decorations that adorned the trees and buildings to commemorate the ongoing Festival of Love, spending time in such a bustling city had been incredibly draining for the pair of you.

Kaadara was equally stunning and slightly more secluded, although it was still heaving with tourists. You had not seen much of the city the previous evening, it had been almost nightfall when you arrived at the shuttle port and well after when you finally reached your lodgings. As much as the two of you had wanted to take advantage of the fact you were alone, without a certain unruly green child to distract you, in a beautiful hotel room… you had been much too tired to use the luxurious sleeper for anything other than getting some much-needed rest.

And it was a decision that you certainly were not regretting as you sat on the private oceanside terrace of one of the numerous outdoor cafés which dotted the beachfront of Kaadara the following morning. You felt well-rested and able to appreciate the moment. You knew that the pair of you would have plenty of opportunities to make up for lost time during the rest of your trip. Plus, your early night had meant that you had been able to watch the sunrise over the beach together, hand in hand. It had been a perfect moment, Din’s beskar’gam glinting a mesmerising array of oranges and reds.

With your plates cleaned, the two of you were enjoying a few minutes of calm before making your next move. The secluded nature of the terrace meant that Din had been able to remove his helmet to enjoy a meal with you, a luxury that you were not often afforded as you travelled around the galaxy together. Even savouring food was a gift the pair of you were rarely afforded, with your busy lives and energetic child to raise. You sat there, utterly entranced by the handsome man before you. Your riduur. You admired Din’s strong side profile as he gazed out across towards the ocean. His strong nose, scruffy facial hair and long eyelashes were a feast for your eyes to match the feast of Nubian delicacies you had just enjoyed for breakfast. You adored looking at the way his curls wafted in the breeze, his tan skin perfectly in keeping with his surroundings.

“I like it here,” Din mused as he took a sip of caf. “But there are a few too many people here for my liking. What do you think?”

“I agree, Din,” you nodded. “I’m guessing our final destination is somewhere more secluded?”

Despite your hopes, Din did not fall for your subtle prodding for answers. You knew he was much too experienced thanks to a life of bounty hunting for that. Since leaving Theed, Din had been tight-lipped about your ultimate destination. All you knew for certain was that you were only staying for one night in Kaadara. Only your riduur knew where you would remain for the rest of your trip.

After leaving the café, the two of you took one last stroll along the beachfront before you returned to your lodgings and collected your bags. Despite you insisting on helping to carry them, Din refused. Instead, he shouldered the weight of all of the heavy bags by himself. It was a feat made all the more impressive by the fact he held them in one arm and hand, to keep one hand free so he could lace his gloved fingers with yours. You beamed at him, wondering if he had any idea just how much you adored him.

Since Din had revealed you were leaving Kaadara, you had fully expected that the two of you would head to the shuttle port where you had arrived only the previous evening. Instead, you gave Din a quizzical look as he led you away from the city centre, towards the city’s industrial quarter. You were even more confused when it appeared that Din was leading you towards a small, dilapidated building. You gave Din another questioning look, but he just shrugged and pushed the door.

It was not what you had been expecting at all. The rundown, forgotten building appeared to be a parking garage, with a vast array of speeder bikes and other vehicles parked up against the dull, grey walls. You watched with amusement as the Gungan who had been sitting on a chair, almost fell off it at the sound of the bell attached to the door, which signalled your and Din’s arrival. You had never met one before, but Din had explained the unique history of Kaadara to you. It was a city where Gungans and humans had lived side by side, where the locals had welcomed interactions with the native Gungan population rather than discriminated against them and exiled them.

The peculiar, yet endearing, character soon recovered, and greeted you:

“Wow! Heyday ho, welcomen!” The Gungan chirped. “Me've never seen a real Mandalorian, me'm honoured to meet yousa!”

“Nice to meet you too,” Din nodded. His greeting was friendly, but he was keeping his distance from the Gungan. You could imagine him rolling his eyes under his helmet, finding this sort of attention embarrassing.

“Yousa hair per da speeder bike?” The Gungan asked.

“Certainly am,” Din confirmed.

“Okeeday! Followen mesa, sir,” the Gungan jabbered as he beckoned Din to follow him.

You lingered by the door as the Gungan showed the bike to Din, who examined it by running his gloves over the saddle and handlebars, appraising the quality of the craftsmanship. You bit your lip, admiring the way his hands roamed over the surface. It had been several days since Din had touched you like that and you hoped you would have an opportunity tonight. His hands could be so soft and tender, even though they had been responsible for so many destructive acts throughout the galaxy. Before you could get lost in your thoughts any further, Din concluded the transaction by tossing the Gungan a bag of credits.

You watched, transfixed as Din pushed the bike out of the garage, his muscles barely straining despite its enormous weight. You followed him out of the building, bidding farewell to the Gungan as you went.

“A speeder bike?” You questioned, raising your eyebrows in disbelief.

“Yeah,” Din nodded. “Quickest way to get to our destination.”

“I’ve never ridden one before,” you confessed nervously.

“It’s fine, cyare,” Din reassured you, placing a hand on the small of your back. “You just have to sit behind me and wrap your arms around me. Do you think you can do that?”

You nodded eagerly. Being in such proximity to Din was an intoxicating prospect, one that immediately sent a shiver of desire coursing through your body. You were on fire for him. Although it was just the two of you on this vacation, it scarcely felt as though you had truly enjoyed a moment to yourself in private, where you could act on your desires. You knew that was precisely how Din had planned it as he wanted to show you as much of the planet as possible during your short time here. But with such a gorgeous riduur, it was hard not to yearn for his touch. You almost ached with want. So, the speeder bike seemed like a perfect compromise. Wrapping your arms around Din sounded like a dreamy way to spend the rest of the afternoon as you hurtled to your next destination.

You practically moaned in delight when you straddled the speeder seat, as your cheek came to rest on Din’s firm back, just underneath his broad shoulders. Your arms easily wrapped around his waist. For a man so vast, his waist was surprisingly slim compared to his shoulders. It was a contrast you loved, and this position in particular gave you a prime opportunity to take full advantage of his physique. You felt the safety and security of his enormous frame, with the softness of the man beneath the beskar as your arms rested around his narrow waist.

You squealed with delight as Din fired up the speeder bike and began hurtling out of the city. Although you found yourself somewhat sad to leave Kaadara behind, it had been a beautiful location after all, you couldn’t deny that you were excited to head for a more secluded location. It was a city which already attracted tourists in their droves, but thanks to the ongoing Festival of Love that coincided with your visit, the streets had been bursting with people. You knew that Din would be just as eager as you were to head for somewhere more secluded. By journeying elsewhere, away from lots of people, you hoped that Din would be able to relax and switch off fully. Your Mandalorian rarely seemed to be able to rest, it was in his nature.

The many breathtaking sights of Naboo whizzed past as you and Din hurtled across the planet on your speeder bike. You relished the warm skin you could feel below the layers, never tiring of feeling your Mandalorian in your arms. A gentle sigh left your body as you appreciated not just the feeling of Din in your arms, but the beauty of your surroundings. You passed breathtaking rolling hills, each one covered in lush green grass and a variety of flowers. There were several lakes and towns with beautiful domed architecture which took your breath away.

You and Din had made storming progress, save for one moment when he had to slow down and then stop entirely for a particularly unruly herd of shaak lolloped into your path. You did not mind the inconvenience though, despite Din’s grumbles, delighting in the fact you were able to gaze at the peculiar beasts so closely. As the hours passed, you still had no way of guessing your ultimate destination, but you trusted that wherever it was, Din had chosen a perfect setting for the final days of your vacation. Already on this trip, you appreciated his consideration and all the thoughts that had gone into planning such a vacation. You couldn’t believe that it could get any better than this.

Although your journey felt as though it had only taken a few minutes – you were so enthralled by the various sights and sounds that time had seemed to pass at a rapid pace – several hours later, you finally made it to your ultimate destination.

“Welcome to the Lake Country, cyare,” Din finally said, when the speeder’s pace had slowed enough that he could be heard.

You were stunned that Din had gone to such lengths to bring you here. You had heard whispers of how beautiful the lakes of Naboo were, how secluded and isolated they were, their location nestled between the most beautiful hills. Instantly, you saw that the rumours were correct and found yourself immediately in awe of your surroundings. It was the most stunning place you had ever been, not least because of the stunning man who you had travelled here with.

Din dismounted the bike first, offering you a gloved hand to help you off the saddle. The hours of riding should have taken their toll and caused you to seize up, but a combination of your beautiful surroundings and handsome companion had done wonders for your joints. You had no aches and pains. Din grabbed your belongings and headed towards the building he had brought you to. You followed Din, admiring his broad shoulders and gleaming beskar as you went. Even from behind he was a sight to behold.

When you finally glimpsed your immediate surroundings, you were awestruck by the opulence of the lodgings Din had selected, even slightly embarrassed as you considered how expensive it must have been. You knew that Din worked hard and the New Republic paid him handsomely, not least because of how skilled he was at his job, but you still felt slightly embarrassed that he was splurging on you. As if he could detect your slight hesitancy, when the man behind the desk turned to get your keys, Din addressed your unease.

“Relax, cyare. We can afford this,” Din whispered, comfortingly.

“Are you sure Din? I can’t even imagine how much this cost,”

“Good job you don’t have to,” Din nodded, bringing his hand to the small of your back once again.

You sighed, knowing that you should not allow such a small thing to ruin such a perfect vacation. You wanted to appreciate every second. You glanced around the reception, with its marble floors and wide, floor-to-ceiling windows which led straight to the lake just by the hotel, you found your shoulders relaxing slightly. Appreciating the sounds of the birds chirping, the leaves rustling in the slight breeze and the water lapping around the side of the lake only relaxed you further. You trusted Din entirely, with every atom of your being. If he said that you could afford this and wanted you to have a good time, then that was precisely what you would do.

After the man behind the ornate oak desk handed you the keys, you and Din made your way upstairs to your room. Once again, Din refused all of your offers to help him with the bags. You rolled your eyes at him affectionately, he could be so stubborn sometimes, but you knew his heart was always in the right place.

As soon as you stepped through the door to your suite, you heard Din remove your helmet from behind you. But you were too transfixed by the sight before you to turn to face him, despite how much you yearned to look at him after so many hours of hiding his handsome features behind his helmet.

You were standing in the most incredible room you had ever seen, with a breathtaking view of the lake outside. Your eyes should have been awed by the pristine water just outside the window, but instead, you found your gaze focusing on a bouquet of beautiful red flowers which was standing on the ebony table with the intricately carved base which sat just in front of the windows.

As you got closer, you realised it was a bouquet of Millaflowers, a local flower plucked fresh from the meadows of Naboo. The red blooms of the flowers took your breath away as you stood before them, shimmering in the late afternoon sun. You reached out to caress the soft petal between your thumb and forefinger.

“They’re beautiful, Din,” you sighed in appreciation. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, mesh’la,” Din replied, his voice low as you heard his heavy footsteps approach. “Beautiful Millaflowers for my beautiful riduur,” Din whispered as he snaked his arms around your waist, nuzzling kisses into your neck.

There were so many incredible sights which lay just beyond the confines of your room, stunning beauty that you had been determined to see until the first touch of Din’s lips against your skin. Now, nothing out there seemed as appealing as the prospect of getting the gorgeous man, who was ardently trailing kisses down your neck, into the luxurious four-poster sleeper a few paces away.

“Din, the lakes,” you murmured, in a feeble attempt to stop his ministrations. Outstanding beauty was abundant just beyond your room, you knew that it would be a waste to miss enjoying such a landscape by giving into your desire for each other.

“Later, cyare,” Din whispered as he spun you around in his arms so that you were facing him.

With one look in those brown eyes, darkened with lust, you knew that resisting any further was not an option. The lakes could wait, Din seemed determined to have you, and who were you to deny him what he wanted? Your riduur banished all further protestations which lingered on your tongue by capturing your mouth with his plush lips. You moaned softly and Din pulled away, his chest heaved from kissing you so eagerly. You noticed, with a smirk, that his lips were already swollen, such was the ferocity of your kisses.

“Dank farrik, I want you so badly,” Din breathed. You could tell that he was struggling to contain his desires, not least because of the hardness you felt trapped between your bodies.

“Then take me, Din,” you whispered, biting your lip as you extended the invitation to him.

The giggles that had started when Din scooped you up into his strong arms and carried you across the room to the sleeper, soon vanished. Your lighthearted yelps and shrieks turned to lustful gasps and moans. Din had delicately placed you on the luxurious sheets and wasted no time as he began showing you precisely how much he desired you. He worshipped your body with his mouth, attentive to your every moan, listening carefully to your reactions which dictated precisely where he placed his fingers and tongue. Din dove into his task as though he was a starving man, with all the care and dexterity that had served him so well during his many years as a bounty hunter…

✯✯✯

Later, you were grateful for the breeze which wafted into the room through the opened windows. It cooled your entangled bodies as you lay there in the afterglow. Din was wrapped around you as tightly as the vines, which could be found in the thick undergrowth surrounding the lake and periodically crept up the stunning stone buildings that were so characteristic of the town. The croaking and chirping of the animals outside merged perfectly with Din’s even breaths, it was a much-needed moment of peace after such a hectic day. When you had cried his name out one last time in ecstasy, Din had finally allowed himself to join you. He chanted your name as though it were a sacred prayer. Then, he had gathered you against his chest, your head resting against his strong, broad warmth which you almost wanted to engulf you. You had watched with a smirk, from your position on his warm, firm chest as his lids had grown heavy. Although you wanted to enjoy your evening with Din and make the most of your time here, you could not begrudge him some rest. He had certainly earned it, not just for his exertions between the satin sheets of your four-poster sleeper, but also in planning such a thoughtful trip.

✯✯✯

Plush, soft lips that placed a tender kiss on your forehead roused you from the slumber you had unintentionally fallen into. Apparently, you had joined Din in a peaceful, much-needed nap to regain your strength after your earlier pursuits. Your eyelids fluttered open, to see the strong nose and soulful brown eyes of your riduur staring back at you. If he didn’t stop looking at you like that, you feared that the two of you would leave the Lake Country without having seen anything except your four-poster sleeper. Then, Din leaned in to capture your lips with his, his warm breath hot against your face. You smiled against Din’s mouth as your lips brushed against each other. You giggled softly in the early evening light as his facial hair tickled your face. Recently, he had begun to keep his whiskers a little longer, allowing the scruff around his jaw to grow out. It was a sight you adored, your heart swelling as he pulled away, allowing you to admire his more distinguished appearance, as the patchy brown hairs were now smattered with grey.

“So handsome,” you breathed, cupping Din’s jaw with your hand and gazing at him reverentially.

“Cyare,” Din warned, his eyes dark with lust again. “If we don’t stop…” Din trailed off, swallowing thickly. “I can’t keep my hands off you. We won’t see anything of this town…”

✯✯✯

Although it was a few hours later than you had anticipated, you and Din had finally made it out of your lodgings. You had made various attempts at leaving the sleeper, only to find strong arms and large hands hungrily pulling you back into his embrace. Finally, you had insisted on leaving the satin sheets and Din’s arms in order to use the fresher. You had thought you had gotten away with it. You were confident of it, in fact. That was until you switched on the shower.

Your thoughts had been quite innocent as the sight of a real shower had been too much to resist. You were so used to the unsatisfying sonic of your cabin on Nevarro, that the prospect of washing yourself in a real shower had been too tempting for your resolve. Apparently, imagining your naked form underneath the hot jets of a real shower had also sparked something in Din and he had soon joined you, delaying your departure further. You had to admit it had been well worth it, though.

When Din had eventually left you alone long enough so that you could finally put some clothes on, the two of you enjoyed a peaceful dinner on the private terrace which was attached to your room. You were not used to such luxuries and once again felt almost embarrassed, but Din had reminded you not to worry.

Your lips curved into a smile when you remembered the way he had looked into your eyes and said so earnestly:

“I want to take care of you, ner riduur, and treat you to the finest things in the galaxy. You deserve only the finest things in life.”

Although you had called for dinner slightly later than you had initially planned, thankfully the staff had been happy to accommodate you. Having dinner brought to you was a luxurious experience. Clearly, the hotel was used to entertaining the galaxy’s elite. You were not used to being made to feel so important and were initially embarrassed, but with Din’s soothing presence by your side, accompanied by his kind words, you struggled to feel anything except relaxed.

Now, the two of you were strolling towards one of the more secluded lakes so that you could take a swim together. Although the town was already relatively quiet, you and Din wanted to relax away from anyone else. You hoped that he would be able to remove his helmet, but you were not expecting it. You would never push him to make such a move, respecting his adherence to his Creed entirely.

The various lakeside creatures were chirping in the warm, breezy air. You sighed in contentment and squeezed Din’s free hand tightly, delighted that you could feel his skin on your own. He carried a small basket in one hand and held your hand in the other. Din was dressed down in cotton clothing, without his beskar’gam, save for the helmet. Despite the clothes’ intended loose style, the material still hugged his frame and accentuated a feature you loved so much: his broad shoulders.

It was the final evening of the Festival of Love celebration, a culmination of several days of festivities and various people were milling around the secluded town. Although Din’s helmet was still drawing eyes from the various couples you passed, they were not as piercing as the gazes you drew when Din was dressed in full beskar’gam. It was exhilarating to be surrounded by so many people who were equally as in love as the two of you, strolling around the lakes and enjoying each other’s company, just like you and Din.

Before you met Din, you weren’t sure whether you believed in true love, or soulmates. To be honest, you still weren’t entirely sure even now. However, you knew that if either of the things existed, Din was your answer to those questions. There was not one day that had gone by since you had confessed your feelings for each other that he had not made you feel all of his love. You knew that you were the most important thing in the galaxy to him, alongside Grogu, of course. There was not one place he would not travel to for you, likewise you would follow him anywhere. You had never doubted the depth of his devotion to you. If you thought about it for long enough, it could almost reduce you to tears.

Fortunately, before you could fully break down into tears over how much you loved your incredible riduur, the two of you finally arrived at the lake. Despite the sun having set several hours ago, it was an incredibly humid night on Naboo and you were eager to dive into the cool waters. You hastily began removing your outer clothes to reveal your swimwear and heard the rustling of Din behind you doing the same. You were so caught up in undressing yourself, that you were stunned when you turned around to be greeted by the sight before you.

“Din, your helmet…” you murmured, shocked at his appearance. You had not heard his helmet depressurise, the last thing you had been anticipating was that his brown eyes would be peering back at you.

“It’s fine, cyare. We’re alone,” Din reassured you, dismissing your concerns. “Besides, it’s as dark as Malachor out here. Even if someone were to happen upon us, they wouldn’t be able to see anything.”

You nodded slowly, accepting his explanation. Adhering to Din’s creed was important to him and it was something that always lingered in the back of your mind. If he was ever rendered an apostate on account of something he had done for your benefit, you would never be able to forgive yourself. Fortunately, you had no more time to dwell on that depressing thought and the importance of his Way, as Din turned on his heel and dived into the cool water below. He shrieked slightly at the coldness, before emerging and pushing his wet curls away from his eyes.

“What are you waiting for?!” Din yelled, encouraging you to join him.

You ran up to the lake’s edge, giggling as you went. The laughter was halted abruptly as the coldness of the water shocked your body, as though needles pricked every inch of your body. The shock dissipated as you resurfaced, but you were still keen to locate your riduur in the lake and feel Din’s body next to yours. You sighed contentedly as Din’s strong arm snaked around your waist and pulled you in close to him.

✯✯✯

After swimming to your heart's content, you and Din cuddled up together on a blanket by the water’s edge. Your head lay on his bare, muscular chest as his arms curved around and under your body, resting together on your waist. Every few minutes, he would drop a lazy kiss somewhere on your face. You were certain you had never been in more beautiful surroundings in your entire life. It was far after dark now, but every star in the entire galaxy seemed to be burning brightly above your heads. You sighed happily as the twinkling stars were joined by a throng of fireflies glinting around the lake. You could faintly make out the lapping of the waves and the silhouette of the hills all around you. Everything was perfect.

Somehow, it was about to get better.

It seemed that Naboo had one final surprise for you. It was a surprise that was initially an unwelcome one, as the explosions startled you at first. Sensing your anxiety, Din placed a protective arm around you, drawing you further into his side as he placed a soft kiss on your temple.

“They’re just fireworks, cyare,” Din murmured against your skin. “To celebrate the Festival of Love.”

You relaxed then, appreciating the moment. You wanted to commit every moment to memory, every juncture where your body touched Din’s. The chirping and croaking of the creatures, the water lapping against the lake’s edge. The technicolour sparks that rained down across the valley on every side. Your jaw hung open in wonder as you looked up, across the stars and the fireworks.

You were certain that you had never felt so happy and loved in your entire life.

#din djarin smut #din djarin fic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #mando x you #pedro pascal characters #my fics

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little-diable · 5 months

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New Year's Eve with a Stranger - Modern!Tommy Shelby (smut)

So, this is a bit of a self sufficient fic, since I am spending NYE alone in one of my fave countries, I simply had to write this. Nevertheless, please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves and a happy new year! xxx

Summary: The reader planned to spend NYE on her own in another country, but when she crosses paths with a handsome stranger she can't help but give into the way she feels towards him.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, age gap, choking, soft dom!Tommy, but mainly lots of fluff

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (2.8k words)

picture credit to So It Goes Magazine

She kept her eyes focused on the big window, sipping on her hot drink, barely sparing her surroundings any attention. It was still early in the morning, allowing (y/n) to watch the sun rise above the snow covered mountains, making a smile tug on her lips at the beautiful sight.

Yesterday she had found her way to this hotel, checking in with anticipation thumping through her veins, excited for a few days on her own, solo travelling a country she had always loved. And now, as she was eating breakfast in a quiet, cosy room, she felt all too comfortable, knowing that there were no meetings she’d have to attend, nothing but the plans she had made for herself.

“Is this seat taken?” A gruff voice ripped her out of her thoughts, forcing (y/n)’s eyes away from the big windows, focusing on the features of a handsome man. With a soft smile tugging on her lips, she murmured a quiet “No”, watching him sit down. “I hope you don’t mind the disturbance, but I didn’t want to miss out on this view.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I totally get it, it’s breathtaking.” She allowed herself to study the man for a few seconds as she took another sip. His piercingly bright eyes were hidden behind a pair of round glasses, his salt and pepper hair was slightly slicked to one side, exposing his side cut to her curious eyes. He was at least ten years older than her, but she couldn’t help but let her gaze flicker down to his hand, checking for a wedding ring, unable to find one.

“Have you been staying here for longer? I haven’t seen you at breakfast before.” (Y/n) tried to pinpoint his accent, wondering where he was from, and why he had found his way to this very place.

“No, I arrived yesterday. What about you, how long have you been staying here?” The man took a sip of his coffee, piercing eyes momentarily finding hers. A shudder ran down (y/n)’s spine at the intense gaze, wondering if he picked up on the attraction she oh so clearly felt for him, drawn closer without knowing a thing about the man.

“I come here every year, I enjoy the quietness this place offers. Is it your first time here?” An unfamiliar warmth flooded through her at the interest he seemed to find in their interaction, not used to being treated this kindly by a stranger.

“It is, but I am already in love with this place. Are there any things you’d recommend doing around here?” He pondered over her question for a few seconds, gaze focused on the pink and orange sky, painting a picture so beautiful (y/n) had to fight against the need to take a picture of it, holding onto the need to enjoy moments rather than pictures she took in these moments.

“Well, it depends on what you’re looking for, there are some museums you should visit, a few rather hidden book stores you’ll find in some alleys. If you want to, I can take you to some of my favourite ones.” (Y/n) couldn’t stop a surprised expression from tugging on her features, not expecting him to offer some of his time to her.

“I’d love that.”

……

Over the past hours (y/n) had learned that the handsome stranger is called Tommy, and that he lived in Birmingham, a city she had always wanted to visit. He had taken her to the history museum in the morning, followed by some coffee in a small store he seemed to frequent whenever he came to visit this town, already friends with the owner of the store.

He hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary, and yet he had won (y/n) over within the first few moments of meeting him. The way Tommy treated her was so unfamiliar to her, she wondered if he was real, filled with kindness, respect, and something glimmering in his eyes that filled her with excitement.

“Didn’t take you for a Dante fan, but I have to say, it fits.” Her whispers left Tommy laughing, thumping through the old copy of Dante’s Inferno he was currently holding in the hands (y/n) found herself staring at way too often. Even though (y/n) tried to focus on the endless rows of old books, her eyes were drawn back to Tommy’s frame at any given chance.

She tried to curse herself for being that interested in a stranger, and yet Tommy didn’t feel like a stranger, he had something familiar to him, something that left her wondering if they had crossed paths in another life. Whatever it was that left her feeling like that, (y/n) didn’t ever want to get rid of this feeling, clinging to it like it was her life vest, protecting her from drowning in uneasy waters she had been stuck in for the past weeks.

“Don’t tell this to anybody, but I can recite most parts of it by heart.” (Y/n) shook her head with a grin tugging on her lips, arms slowly crossing in front of her chest.

“Prove it.” A challenging look was thrown Tommy’s way, watching the man’s tongue kiss his teeth as he tried to stop a smirk from widening on his lips. He turned towards (y/n), leaning against the bookshelf with his hand still holding onto the old copy.

“Midway upon the journey of our life, I found myself within a forest dark, for the straightforward pathway had been lost. Ah me! how hard a thing it is to say, what was this forest savage, rough, and stern, which in the very thought renews the fear. So bitter is it, death is little more; But of the good to treat, which there I found, speak will I of the other things I saw there.” With another laugh bubbling out of (y/n), Tommy stopped reciting, letting go of a laugh himself.

“I have to say, I’m impressed. Do you have any other talents I should know of?” He took a step closer, almost touching her, eyes not daring to break contact with hers once. Both were clearly aware of the buzzing atmosphere that engulfed them, wrapping itself around them.

“Many, but I’d rather you find out about them yourself instead of telling you about them.”

……

The next morning (y/n) found herself in the same spot she had sat in the day before, once again watching the sun rise as she ate breakfast. This time Tommy had joined her at the entrance of the room, pulling her in for a hug, allowing (y/n) to inhale the scent of his expensive cologne.

Their day together had flown by all too quickly, ending with a quick dinner before they had parted ways, leaving (y/n) with a heavy heart. She didn’t know what it was, but yet she had instantly missed him the second Tommy had left her side, promising to meet her again for breakfast the next morning.

“I have some meetings I can’t miss out on today, but if you want to, we can try to catch some auroras tonight.” The smile playing on Tommy’s lips left (y/n)’s heart skipping beats, already filled with excitement at the mere thought of spending some more time with him.

“Absolutely, wait, let me give you my number, so you can just call or text whenever you’re ready.” She was too focused on reaching for her phone to pick up on the warm smile settling on Tommy’s lips, watching the young woman fumble with her phone. There was something swimming in his pupils that was all too unfamiliar, even to Tommy himself, she was doing something to him he hadn’t ever felt before, not wanting to leave her behind for even a minute.

(Y/n) reached her phone out to Tommy, watching him add his contact as she finished her drink. Their fingers touched as he pushed the phone back towards (y/n), making shudders run down her spine like bolts of lighting striking her body.

“If we’re lucky we can catch a few before midnight, so we can come back before the fireworks.” (Y/n) had almost forgotten that today was new year’s eve, a day she had always disliked, not one for drinking, partying, and staying up for endless hours. With a smile shot Tommy’s way she murmured a soft “Sounds good”, hoping that today would be another day she’d remember for months on end.

……

The cold wind teased their limbs, wrapping itself around the two as they were sitting on a bench, cuddled into their jackets with their eyes focused on the dark sky. For the longest time it had been (y/n)’s dream to see the auroras dance on the night sky, green and blue stripes of light that almost drew tears to her eyes.

“Worth the wait, right?” Tommy’s soft voice broke the silence, momentarily forcing her eyes away from the sky. He was sitting close to her, arm touching hers, leaving her feeling all too comfortable around the man.

“Definitely. Thank you for taking me here.” Since her eyes wandered back to the sky, (y/n) didn’t pick up on the way Tommy’s eyes flickered down to her cold hands, giving himself a few seconds to overthink his next move before he slowly interlaced his fingers with hers. Her heart skipped a few beats at the touch, making heat rise in her system, eyes momentarily finding his piercing ones.

Both couldn’t stop their smiles from widening, holding onto one another as the auroras kept dancing in the sky. (Y/n) silently prayed that whoever was listening would freeze the moment, not wanting it to end just there and then, not ready to part from Tommy just yet.

“Do you have any new year’s resolutions?” Once her eyes were drawn back to Tommy’s features, studying the man as she thought about his question, a question she had never spared much attention, not believing in resolutions most would forget about after a week or two.

“No, not really. Sometimes I want to be a bit braver, do a few more things to get me out of my shell, take a few more risks. But that’s about it, what about you?” Her breath hitched in her chest as she watched his gaze flicker down to her lips, for just a second, a second (y/n) undoubtedly picked up on.

“What kind of risks?” (Y/n) didn’t understand what was guiding her body, urged on by the unfamiliar tone of Tommy’s voice, moving closer with her gaze set on his lips. The seconds blurring by felt like minutes, hours even, with her heart racing and her breaths stuttering. Would he pull away? Would he stop her from pressing her lips against his?

But Tommy didn’t pull away, one of his hands found her cold cheek, encouraging (y/n) to close the distance between them, softly kissing Tommy. The touch left her panting, not expecting the kiss to make her feel like this. She had never believed in these cheesy descriptions of clashing teeth, fireworks going off in the distance, but now, as Tommy kissed her breathless, taking over the kiss before she could even try to lead, (y/n) couldn’t help but feel just like other people had always described to her.

They didn’t part as Tommy pulled her into his lap, kissing her beneath the colourful night sky, making them feel as if they were reliving a scene from a movie. Neither of them wanted this moment to end, wanting to stay connected till the end of their time. But with shaking heads and aching lungs they eventually had to part, staring at one another with excitement and anticipation laced in their gazes.

“Take me back to the hotel, Tommy.”

……

She had her back arched off the bed, eyes squeezed shut, hands tugging on Tommy’s hair. The man was settled between her thighs, grinning against her naked skin as he ate her out. Tommy touched her as if they had done this numerous times before, careful enough to pick up on the wordless signs her body was throwing his way, though rough enough to let (y/n) choke on her gasps.

“Fuck, Tommy, feels so good, don’t stop, please.” His chuckles vibrated on her skin, leaving (y/n) whining as she tried to hold on, not wanting to give into the sensation just yet. His fingers fucked her fast, curling against her swollen spot whenever he got the chance to. She was putty in his hand, unable to do anything but give into the pull she felt.

Tommy could tell that she was close, about to fall over the edge with his name burning in the tip of her tongue, with her hands balled into fists, and with her lungs struggling to hold onto any air. He held some kind of magic over her, (y/n) had never felt before.

“Look at me, doll, keep those pretty eyes open for me.” These were the last words (y/n) managed to pick up on before she came. Tommy’s tongue kept lapping at her folds, guiding her through her high with a satisfied smile tugging on his lips. A few praises were murmured against her soft skin, fingers lazily fucking into her for a few more moments before he let go of her.

Within seconds Tommy was towering over her once again, lips caught in a heated kiss. They didn’t part ways as she helped him out of his shirt, nails scratching at his skin as he undid his trousers, needing to feel her naked body pressed against his.

“Are you sure you want this? You can always tell me to stop.” He murmured the words against her skin as he kissed his way down her throat, groaning as she wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing her naked cunt against his dark boxer shorts.

“Fuck me, Tommy.” He didn’t need to be told twice, letting go of her to free his cock, grinning as he felt her wide eyes taking in the sight of his twitching length. (Y/n) watched him roll a condom down his cock, aligning himself with her heat before he wrapped his hand around her throat, keeping (y/n) pressed against the mattress.

The eye contact both held was intense, and yet it had something awfully intimate to it, forcing her heart to skip even more beats. Tommy fucked her rough, not holding back as he added more and more speed to his thrusts, fingers tightening their grip around her throat. Her senses were heightened, wondering how far he’d take it with her, and yet she felt awfully safe with him around, knowing that he wouldn’t hurt her in a way she wouldn’t enjoy.

“Such a desperate girl, begging to be fucked.” A whine left (y/n), a sound that made Tommy chuckle against her lips, feeling powerful with her buried underneath him. His lips met hers in an almost rushed kiss as he fucked her, hips meeting hers with every thrust. “You fit so perfectly around me, as if you were made for me.”

“Just for you, Tommy.” A moan left them in unison as her walls fluttered around him, wordlessly begging for more friction, needing to feel his fingers on her clit to give into the sensation threatening to claw through her. (Y/n) felt herself getting lost in his pupils, wide from the lust thumping through his veins, making them appear darker, more dangerous than the piercing colour she was used to.

Both were close to letting go, wordlessly communicating their every thought, knowing that there was no holding back. Tommy let go of her throat to sneak a hand between them, lifting himself to spit onto her pulsing bundle, rubbing her skin with his warm fingers.

With (y/n)’s fingernails clawed into his skin, she came, head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut. Tommy kept fucking her, thrusts perfectly positioned to prolonge the intense sensation. He watched her fall apart with a grin, unable to stop himself from kissing her again before he came, groaning against her mouth.

The sound of fireworks going off ripped them out of their trance, unable to stop laughing as their eyes found the window. Wordlessly they watched the colourful lights alight the sky, still connected with their hearts beating in sync.

“Happy new year, Tommy.” His eyes flickered back down to hers, lips meeting (y/n)’s swollen ones before he repeated her words with a grin glued to his features.

#Tommy Shelby smut #Tommy Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby imagine #Peaky Blinders smut #modern tommy shelby

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daegall · 9 months

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Lee Jeno's top 10 ways to stay warm.

pairing: (implied) bad boy!jeno x reader

genre: fluff, strangers to lovers!AU, college!AU, winter!AU, slight bad boy!AU

warnings: mentions of anxiety

word count: 1.4k words

a/n: hi its jeno hours

also lowkey wanna make this a whole fic idk...

networks/taglist: @neoturtles @knet-bakery @kflixnet @nct-writers @k-radio + @soobin-chois @markhyuckselca @jaehunnyy @justalildumpling <3

It's cold. Really fucking cold. And it's night. Scary. A snowy, cold, scary night, and you have a bus to catch. So, instead of staying outside, where it's cold, and dangerous, you decide to step into the bus stop smoking pod, knowing it's a lot warmer in there.

And now, here you are, reading a novel you can barely focus on, due to the cold, and your slight anxiety of being alone.

A moment later, however, your anxiety spikes its all time high as the door to the smoking pod swings open, causing you to look up with wide, worried eyes, only to soften when you recognize the platinum white hair and leather jacket.

It's Lee Jeno.

He's got his usual cold, bad boy exterior stoic face, and almost permanent scowl on his lips, as he curses and shakes his head like a wet dog, shaking the snow off his hair.

He doesn't seem to realize he's got company, not until you let out the sigh you sucked in abruptly from his sudden entrance.

"O-oh," Jeno stumbles over his words, recognizing you from campus. "hey,"

"Hi," You reply back quietly, lips pursing into a line awkwardly.

He takes a few steps towards you, his sneakers tapping against the ground oddly loudly. Jeno halts after no more than 3 steps, pointing at the seat next to you. "Do you mind...?"

"Oh," You shake your head, hands waving as well. "no, please, sit."

It's a cold night, sitting seems like a more comfortable position, better than having your joints freeze while you're standing at least.

As Jeno takes a seat next to you, you can't help but feel incredibly awkward, glancing down at your novel, once again barely paying attention, but for a different reason now.

You know Lee Jeno. You're not too sure if he remembers you.

Last week, Zhong Chenle's party, you kissed. Twice. Once, at a game of spin the bottle, a small, innocent peck, and another time under the mistletoe. Not that innocent.

You can barely remember it, but Donghyuck made sure he recorded both, and showed you both. You had dreaded seeing Jeno after that party, afraid he would find you... weird, or anything of that sort.

Look at you now, stuck alone with him on a very cold night.

Emphasize on the very. Because it's very, very cold tonight.

You try to hide the slight shiver in your movement, opting to shift in your seat to try create some sort of friction, for some nonexistent heat.

Had you expected Jeno to notice? Maybe.

Had you expected him to take his leather jacket off, and offer it to you? No. Not at all.

"S-sorry?" You blink at the jacket being placed on your lap, too shy to look Jeno in the eye.

You don't have to worry about that, because Jeno's just as embarrassed, looking to his side. "Y-you're shivering, right? It's okay, just take it."

"No, Jeno, I really can't."

"I insist, Y/N."

"You only have a t-shirt on, Jeno,"

"It's okay, you look freezing, Y/N,"

"Jeno, I ca—"

"—hey,"

His hand suddenly envelops yours. It's... very surprisingly warm, as his thumb strokes across your skin comfortingly. "I swear, I'll be fine, okay?"

Jeno's got a small, stupidly attractive smile on his lips, head tilting to the side. He's got some snow in his hair, but it blends in almost perfectly due to how white he dyed his hair. He's... ethereal.

"Fine," You give in, sighing.

Jeno goes as far as helping you slip his jacket on, fixing it on your body, stroking the sleeves across your arms, making sure your neck is all covered. He smiles at the way you simply look up at him, lips agape to say something, anything, but you don't know what.

Lee Jeno knows who you are. He remembers you from Zhong Chenle's party—well, long before that. He remembers you from the day you bumped into him in the hallways, apologizing profusely at something so small. You picked his books up for him, and as cheesy as it sounds, his heart raced and he fell the moment your hand brushed slightly against his.

And when you kissed him in spin the bottle? God, he felt like he could cry. Partially because he was drunk. And when he caught you under the mistletoe with him, pushing Kim Sunwoo out of the way so you could be with him, and when your hands tugged him closer by his hoodie strings to kiss him deeper, he swore he was gonna bawl.

And here he is, how blessed is he to be next to you, alone, just the two of you, with you wearing his jacket, looking all adorable in it?

Lee Jeno thinks the Gods have blessed him, and he will thank whatever is out there in the universe for this opportunity.

He's about to express his gratitude right now, as your hand taps his, your cold skin against his.

When Jeno turns, he's immensely surprised when you have your scarf and beanie in your hands, reaching them out to him.

He doesn't respond, simply freezing and staring at the items with wide, almost puppy-like eyes.

Chuckling, you decide to put them on him yourself, placing the scarf down to start with the beanie. You reach up to slip it over his head, making sure to cover his ears nice and snugly. Your fingers unintentionally skim over the skin of his cheek, but neither of you comment on it, neither of you mind it, really.

"Warm?" You question quietly, grinning when he nods. A small curl appears on the corners of his lips, as he starts to grin as well.

Next, you take the scarf from your lap, raising it to wrap it around his neck. Jeno instinctively leans down to help make the task easier, feeling not only his neck warm when the scarf is wrapped, but his cheeks and heart as well.

Lee Jeno is blushing, you could blame it on how cold it was, but god knows the truth.

"There, all better."

Jeno basks in the warmth of the items you had placed on him, smiling fondly. "Thank you."

"No need, when you gave me your jacket. Thank you for that."

You're incredibly adorable. Wrapped up in his leather jacket, hands rubbing together, a shy smile on your lips.

Lee Jeno wants to kiss you. Again. For real, fully sober with nobody around to record and shove in people's faces the next day, nobody to whistle out and hoot at the interaction, no disruptions at all.

Jeno finds his hands suddenly unwrapping your soft, warm scarf from his neck, holding each end tightly, before he loops it behind your head.

What's he doing? You both have no idea.

A moment later, however, you are fully aware of his lips inching towards yours. His breath hits your lips, as he tugs your neck closer by the scarf, and suddenly all you can see, is Jeno. The red tip of his nose, his hazy, but fully beaming eyes as he stares at your lips, and his lips brushing against yours. His breath is warm, so incredibly warm, the warmest thing you've felt tonight.

And suddenly, your eyes are shut, as you make a move and press your lips together.

Jeno's hands release the scarf, as one of his arms wraps around your waist, pulling you closer, the other slipping to hold your neck gently. His warm hands leave a trail of goosebumps on your skin, as you tilt your head to deepen the kiss, your own hands holding dearly at his cheeks.

When you pull away, you share warm breaths, finding it comforting in the middle of the cold night.

"What was that for?" You mumble against his lips, laughing lightly.

Jeno shrugs, "It's one of my top 10 ways to warm up. It's cold. Figured I might try the top method."

"Kissing someone?"

"Kissing you,"

He bumps his nose against yours, as he chuckles along with you. "Seems like it worked,"

"If I'm not mistaken, Jeno," You tap at his cheek, stroking his skin. "I'd say that's just an excuse, and the real reason is because you like me,"

"What makes you assume that?"

"Maybe because it's my reason too?"

He grins at your words. "Okay then," Jeno's thumb streaks across your neck, warming it up, along with your heart, with every moment spent near him. "Yeah, I like you."

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highpri3stess · 2 months

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"Why are we hating on JJK writers and fans."

Okay, as a JJK fan, let's list everything that has happened for the past three months. Take a seat and drink water. You're gonna need it. And since you people always think I'm angry, imagine me saying this with the most deadpan tone in the world. I am not angry posting this. I am jaded.

Majority of you are racist. Don't boo me you know it's the truth. Just look at how you guys wanted me to deactivate or tried to gaslight me because I said your fave is supporting a pedo. In FACT. It was a JJK writer who sent my post to that lady who opened me up to a lot of racial abuse from JJK fans. Edit; oh and she didn't apologize for doing that to me btw. I won't expose her though.

And doubling down on the racism, you people do not respect black women in your fandom. Like it is VERY bad. My jjk moots since 2021 up until now still get racial slurs hurled at them because they exist in a space that does not care or defend them. And you see your black moots get racist comments but you want to go "no discourse". I get it. You are a pussy. But to that extent? If you're above 20 and you're still scared of talking about racism in your community or standing up for black writers I am ashamed for you and I am shaming you.

I didn't even see any of you talk about noury on here. Especially ms "I will use the palestinian genocide to hide from criticism." I genuinely hope you at least donated something to her or spoke about her on your other platforms.

The way you guys excuse anything as long as the person is your friend. Because tell me why you people were jumping on Ezra's and Tee's dick, especially after what they both did. Or trying to discredit his racism. Be for real.

The way some of you come for other fandoms. JJK girls, especially that one that deactivated came around to drag aot writers because they said they are "niggerfying" the characters. You go to tr writers and start sending hate, chasing them out. Hell, there are cliques of JJK writers and fans alike on this site. You guys are fucking elitist. You don't like any other person apart from yourselves and it shows. The way you come for how people write x reader "why is she so ghetto". It is ALWAYS you people. Always.

SatoSugu fans are slowly becoming extremely misogynistic. I'd expect that behaviour from dudebros but the moment a girl says they like either of them, they come out of the woodworks. Also, let people ship crack ships in peace. I've been a satosugu girlie long before the season 2 came out and I miss when we were a lot quieter. NanaGo girlies were chill. Can't you copy them at least?

Now moving on to less pending reasons:

I've said this before and I'll say this again, stop tagging "he spat in your mouth and came" or nsfw links with x reader and about 30 plus characters. I get it, we're all burnt out. But even in my busiest of days in university I have NEVER posted that kind of shit. I take my time because writing is a skill and an art. This is not fast fashion.

And stop rewarding anyone who does that. Why are they having 1k notes in 6 hours? What the fuck is up with that?

Do better writing Gojo and hell the entire cast. I get it. Every character has a stereotype attached to them. But come on, 800 words and STILL it is a copy and paste of every other fic? I have to check twice if it is the same author and it's not. It's like every naruto oc fic written in 2016. Same face syndrome but in fic writing.

Writers are getting burned out cause you guys want the same thing over and over again. I hope salt is not the only spice you use because sending hate anons to JJK writers who write outside daddy doms and playboy Gojo is giving that energy. Be for real. These people are giving quality fics, stop chasing them away.

These are my few gripes with you all, because one day is not enough to list every issue I have. If the shoe fits and you rant in my inbox, that's on you. I did tell you to take a seat, drink water and read this in the calmest voice as possible.

#monica.speaks ♡#jujutsu kaisen discourse #as a jjk fan i'm going to point it out #you guys should change the way you behave for real or don't [as]

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hprewetts · 9 months

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an angsty blurb or one shot with Remus dc what about🩷

i'm so sorry it took me a few days omg, i'm the world's slowest writer. that said, tysm for leaving a request<333 i hope i was enough, i used "you" because it comes more naturally to me but if someone wants third person they can say so and i'll try to suffice. i'm still very new to writing this format of fics but i appreciate the trust, here we go :)

This is not a tragedy

summary: you ask remus to get married after james and lily announce their engagement. his answer does not surprise you. 571 words. pairing: remus lupin x reader tags: non committed remus lupin, angst no comfort, open ending, break up (sort of), use of "you" for reader

"Let's do it," you say, "let's get married."

The air is cold against your cheeks once you step onto the balcony. Your breath comes out in white clouds of smoke, drawing trails of mist that disappear against the winds of winter. The words, too, come out slowly from your mouth.

Remus is smoking a cigarette, leaning onto the veranda. James, Sirius, Lily and Peter left a while ago. It's just you two now.

You wait, expectant. The snow rages outside your little flat. It rages inside you, too.

"We want to do it while we can," James had explained at the table, holding onto Lily's hands. The gesture had you breathless for a moment, painfully aware of how much you are missing. "We might not survive the war, the time for living is now."

And you had thought he had been right, at the time. James and Lily wanted to die without regrets and, in a way, their wedding itself was a defiance against the war.

You can not subdue us, it said, you cannot scare us. A pureblood and a muggleborn would be joined in marriage in the middle of the world's greatest attempt to stop exactly that. There is some sort of irony about it that sits quite right.

It's less romantic to you, really. Your love is but a mundane feeling.

James and Lily are larger than life in contrast; their union a symbol of something rebellious, their love alive against all odds.

You feel a little selfish, after giving it some thought, because the only thing you want is Remus to yourself. But perhaps just loving is enough, during these times of terror.

Remus inhales, then slowly lets out a puff of smoke. You just stare, trying to remember this moment. The way his tousled hair sits against his forehead, that scar on his nose you've always been so fond, the way his scars shine against the moonlight. You try to remember, treasure this instant so it won't be lost forever, knowing that you'll lose him.

"I'm sorry," Remus says without meeting your gaze. It's something quiet and small, you can't bring yourself to blame him. "But I can't."

The blow comes quietly, making your chest hurt. You can't say this is groundbreaking, that the world shatters around you because it does not. You held a little hope that he'd say yes, that his love for you would be stronger than whatever it is he's fighting back.

But it does not.

You were always an outsider, a stranger in your own relationship. Remus had always hidden something from you, something big, that you should have known. He disappeared, for days on end, and would never tell you where. When you asked about his scars, he'd lie, his innermost worries, he'd never tell. Remus never let you see him whole, but you thought he would, with time and patience, and that was your mistake.

You were just never that kind of couple.

"I'm sorry," Remus says again.

"I know," you whisper.

"I love you," he repeats.

"I know," you say back.

You try to remember this moment, record it on your memory, but even as he stands before you, the details have already started escaping your memory.

Remus Lupin was never and would never be yours. But you've known that for so long it might as well not hurt at all.

Except it does. It really, really does.

#remus lupin x reader #marauders era #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #hp drabble #the marauders #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin x you #remus lupin fic #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin angst #pls be kind i'm new to writing tumblr #my requests are open #:)

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hiatuswhore · 10 months

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𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝑀𝑜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝓎 𝒪𝓃𝑒 𝐼𝒱 — 𝐵𝓇𝒾𝒹𝑔𝑒𝓇𝓉𝑜𝓃

♕ A/N: I am so sorry for just disappearing on this fic. I love this fic but I’ve been struggling with writers block BADLY. My think tank is broken or something. So since I disappeared for so long the word count is double the usual. Thanks for your patience. Feedback please!

♕ SUMMARY: Oh, the most scandalous season of the year has come to pass. After quite the successful year for the Bridgerton’s the eldest son plans to throw his hat in the ring. Concurrently the Sharma sisters do just the same. One a spinster, the other hopeful romantic, and the middle daughter? What can be said about such a force that is not said when she enters the room. Good luck to all who pursue her.

♕ WORD COUNT: 17.6K

♕ WARNINGS: None

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THE NIGHT SKY SITS HIGH UP WITH A COOL BREEZE THROUGH THE WINDOW. Sitting alone in front of a vanity worth more than most of your things combined, you sit in the mirror, brushing your hair, toying with the idea of a marriage to William. It’s ideal—more than ideal, it comes with everything you want in life. An out from society, the means to do as you please, but still, it burdens you with a new level of expectations and responsibilities. No matter how much the choice glitters, it’s not gold. You cannot bring yourself to give him an answer.

Opening your room door slowly, you poke your head out quietly, scanning the corridor. At the sight of no one and the low hum of everyone to their own devices, you move cautiously through the hall. The stairs proved to be their own obstacle, with every creak threatening to reveal your scheming. Your end goal? The back porch, certain a moment beneath the stars.

“—you cannot be serious!” Stopping short, the back door sits in view a mere few steps away, but William’s voice halts your movement. The closed-door staring back at you, the persistent padding of the floor matching the faint shadow beneath hastily moving back and forth.

“Spare me, William! You speak on speculation alone!” Anthony seethes, his attempts to whisper clashing with his own frustration. A scandal? You want to listen, to cling to any information the private conversation offers, but the foyer lacks any semblance of coverage. It would only take one person opening the door to reveal your highly inappropriate snooping. As a guest of the Bridgertons, no good would come from this kind of trouble. You cast the moment to the back of your mind, acknowledging that you have more complicated matters than two Englishmen in a row.

Rising early the following day. Typically the beaming sun through the curtains and the loud chirping of birds result in dramatic whines and huffs. Not today. Before your mother or even Lady Danbury can rise to object, you ask Lady Violet to use the driver to see some of the countryside. Her nescience to your troublesome nature granting you jovial approval.

In the carriage, you rest your arms on the open window, the cool air blowing across your skin. The sun warms your face as you melt into the calm that comes with endless farmland.

“Excuse me, sir. Can you pull over, please?” You call out. The vibrant green shines with a sea of endless flowers, assuring John, the driver, that you will soon return while entering the open field. Walking through the grass, you march without a destination. Occasionally swatting away a fly or bug, your smile remains.

“Appa, look at this,” You whisper, eyes shining at the flowers around you. John’s no longer in sight. You are not positive about how far you have journeyed when you turn around. Without a worry, you continue back straight from the direction you came. After a long while, the lack of the familiar carriage comes with a wave of ambivalence. The silence continues on as a frown settles on your face, the terrain on a continuous loop.

Scolding your inability to follow any directions ever given to you. You drag your feet huffing at the uncomfortable rub of your boots. The concept of time now an illusion. Your mind says it’s been hours as your feet cry days. You thank the heavens above at the sound of a horse until you see who rides toward you with a pointed look.

“Must you always be so erratic? William and I have been searching for you for hours! Do tell, how does one get lost with no turns?” Anthony exclaims, stopping expertly at your side. You wipe the discomfort from your face as you cross your arms in front of your chest.

“First, I’ll have you know that I am not lost. Secondly, no one asked you to come searching for me!” Anthony points out the ways off you are from where the carriage let you out. Falling silent, you roll your eyes before holding out your hand to join Anthony on the horse.

“You can’t be seen riding on the back of my horse. It would be improper,” He says, keeping your hand out; you narrow your eyes at his words, “So, to be clear, you journeyed out here with no alternative of getting me to the estate? Have you come only to chastise me, Mother?”

“If you put it like that, then, of course, it sounds foolish,” Anthony grumbles, your right eye twitching as you fight the urge to push him off the horse, “Because it is foolish! Now spare me your silly formalities and help me up!”

His nose scrunches as a sigh leaves him. Taking your hand and pulling you up, he utilizes the opportunity to lecture you on every worst-case scenario. You secure your arms around his lower back and lean your head on his shoulder. He drones about the dangers of the particular area and how fortunate nothing occurred. While he continues listing every action of yours he deems a nuisance, you soak in the release of the tensions on your legs and feet. Before you know it, his words and the smooth trot of the horse lull you away.

“—are you even listening? Of course, you are not. Why would (Y/n) Sharma listen to anyone else other than herself?” Anthony says, glancing on his shoulder to find your eyes closed.

“Don’t be such a boorish oaf. It’s been a phenomenal day,” Yawning, you find yourself nuzzling further into the back of his shoulder as if nothing else matters. Anthony lets out a dry chuckle, keeping his focus ahead as his mind pushes William’s confession to the back of his thoughts.

Before you know it, Aubrey Hall stands in view like your saving grace. Daphne steps through the doors as Anthony helps you down from the horse. Her eyebrows furrow as she carefully eyes the two of you, “No matter how painfully dull I find you, I must say thank you for coming to get me. Repeat that to anyone and I’ll deny it to my dying breath.”

“I expect nothing less from you, Miss Sharma,” Anthony nods his head at your thank you as Daphne lingers by the steps. Her eyebrows furrow at the two of you as her mind generates connections she previously presumed to be false.

“(Y/n) Sharma! Have you gone mad? I was worried sick, my child,” Your mother rushes down the stairs pulling you into a tight hug. While relief fills her, it subsides as she pulls back from the hug with a pointed stare. “What have you done?”

“If I may, Lady Mary? It appears our driver just made haste. Miss Sharma was only a little ways off of the path. Indeed partaking in a breathtaking but safe area of the countryside,” You turn to Anthony as he speaks with a charming smile. His easygoing nature saves you from a long lecture you would have inevitably received from your mother.

“Well, then, my apologies, dearest. Lord Bridgerton, please accept my utmost gratitude for ensuring my daughters' safe return,” Lady Mary says as she takes your arms. She excuses the two of you with a polite smile before dragging you toward the house. You look back at Anthony with narrowed eyes, but he only offers a sardonic smile with a mocking wave. You are certain his help does not come without cost.

“Though Lord Bridgerton vouches for the safety of your insolence, you know better (Y/n)!” Your mother sighs with her back on the door.

“Mama, I did not wish to upset anyone. I just wanted to explore the countryside. You should have seen it. It was beautiful!” You sit on the edge of the bed as your mind fills with the flowers splintering in your memory. The reds, blues, and purples blending in your mind, the ache of your feet long gone.

“My darling, can we please just focus on ensuring tonight’s dinner goes without shenanigans?” Mary sighs, holding her composure she stares at you with patient eyes. “I need your word that while we are here as guests, you will do everything possible to ensure this visit goes smoothly. For Edwina’s sake.”

“Mama, it was only—“ You huff, but as she shakes her head, asking only for your word. “Of course, Mama. I want to make clear I would never do anything to jeopardize our family or Edwina’s happiness. I need to know you know that?”

Mary’s shoulders fall as she takes in your glassy-eyed gaze. She joins you on the edge of the bed, taking both your cheeks in her hand. “(Y/n) I know you believe that, but you fail to remember your actions have consequences. When it is just us, I am more than okay with your adventurousness. But here, my wildflower child is a different world than you know. One wrong move, and it can ruin us all.”

The heaviness of her words does not come without consequence. Even long after your mother leaves you, her words do not. The arrival of dinner does not allow you to dwell on the implications of your mothers' words. You sit between Colin and Benedict, with Kate and Eloise across from you.

“This room is exceptionally well-lit. Have you noticed, Col? How bout you, Lady (Y/n)? The twinkles of the candles, it’s as if—we sit among the stars,” Benedict speaks in awe that exceeds the contents of his words—amusement dances across your face as Colin's eyes continuously bounce to his mother and back to Benedict.

“What is wrong with you?” Eloise questions, mirroring your expression as she eyes her elder brother.

“I was just telling Benedict how brilliant the stars were in Greece,” Colin says as if his mind formulates his sentence as it leaves him.

“No, you weren—“ You raise an eyebrow as Colin lightly kicks your shin. The rest of the table watches the pause between the two of you. Colin offers you a pleading smile as you shake your head, shielding your lips with your glass. “You should know that I weaponize my silence. The cost is simple. Why is Benedict acting odd?”

“I gave him a powder that I acquired from my travels. He took far too much of it,” Colin says, earning a loud laugh that draws the attention of the rest of the table. You quickly recover by bringing your glass to your lips again; meeting William’s gaze, he raises an eyebrow. Shrugging your shoulders, you tilt your head toward Benedict until William’s eyes move to the left of you. The longer you stare at the Bridgerton, the more apparent his altered state appears.

“Are you enjoying your time here, Miss Edwina?” Daphne asks, diverting the attention to the opposite end of the table. Edwina sits with Colin to her right and Anthony to her left. Daphne sits across from her with Anthony to her left and William to her right.

“I am, very much. The buzz of the city is thrilling indeed, but I quite enjoy the peace of the country,” Edwina smiles brightly as most of the table watches her. Your attention more on Benedict, who continues quietly in your ear about the room's beauty. Lady Danbury watches you quietly with Kate at her left and Lady Violet at her right. You silently thank whoever made the seating arrangements as your mother sits beside Benedict, unable to eye you the entire night.

“As do I. Though I dare say. It is not quite so peaceful with my entire family in residence,” Anthony points out. Rolling your eyes, you find William chuckling softly, his eyes on you.

“Certainly, I cannot compare my family to your seven brothers and sisters, but you have all become familiar with my wonderfully chaotic sister (Y/n). Kate and I were known to be a handful growing up, but Mama always had her hands full with (Y/n),” Edwina says, leaning forward to catch her gaze; you offer a playful wink. Kate does not miss the opportunity to share when you decided you no longer desired the hair on your head.

“Not this again,” You whine, shaking your head as Kate details how you excitedly carried your hair in your hand.

“I had never seen Mama become so flustered so rapidly. She was endlessly chasing (Y/n) throughout our home,” Edwina details as a chorus of laughter fills the table. Daphne's giggles cease as William huffs to the right of her. She follows his gaze to her left. A smile ghosts on Anthony’s lips as he watches how you laugh sheepishly. Anthony’s eyes focus on you, a nostalgic glint in his eyes,

“(Y/n) was such a fast child I could rarely catch her when she was determined to not be caught,” Your mother smiles, her eyes glazing over as if she leaves the dinner table to relive that memory. The story lacks the part where your father caught you. Despite your upset mother, he only laughed. Not a simple laugh, one without end—he laughed so hard the rest of you could not help but follow suit.

“In seriousness, both Kate and (Y/n) bear heavy responsibilities for our family. (Y/n) has never allowed any moment, no matter how hard in our lives to go without some silver lining. If anyone can help you through a tough time, it’s her. We’d have never survived the tough days without her,” Edwina continues as you look to find her gaze, only to find Anthony’s. It lasts seconds as you roll your eyes at him before looking at your sister. A chuckle leaves his lips as he fails to hear Edwina talk about Kate. Daphne watches warily as William silently watches his oblivious best friend.

“That sounds remarkably similar to you, Anthony,” Daphne says, watching as her brother snaps back into the conversation, “Much familial responsibility to bear, indeed.”

Kate catches Daphne's knowing gaze, and the two watch each other silently for several seconds. You sit watching Colin fail to keep Benedict in check, knocking over his glass and covering his face. When he removes his hand, it reveals a child-like grin, sheer contentment.

“Benedict dear, you alarm our guests,” Lady Violet says with the grace of a seasoned noble. A perfect blend of warmth and patronization. You know that tone all too well.

“Not at all,” Kate says as you offer a giant smile to Lady Violet. The sound of Lady Danbury’s fork against her glass commands the room's attention.

“It is time for a toast,” Lady Danbury says. A smooth distraction, chuckling, you glance at Benedict.

“A good idea. To cheer our guests,” Lady Violet says as your mother beams happily at the idea. It’s clear what they hope to achieve at this dinner, and you find it rather nauseating how they puppeteer it all.

“Or to tend to other pressing matters,” Lady Danbury's words are everything short of subtle. The attention turns to Anthony and Edwina quickly. Kate makes eye contact with Daphne, then with you. While you look unfazed by the inevitable purpose of this invitation, it’s clear Kate seeks a haste exit.

“My—I believe my sisters and I have grown weary,” Kate says. A sharp kick to your shin blocks your attempts to deny her words as you hiss quietly.

“Whatever you gave Benedict, you might need to give it to Kate,” You whisper to Colin, who turns to your sister. She holds her wine close to her lips as her fingers drum against the glass. Her posture’s stiff as she looks at Anthony as if her eyes can strike him dead.

“A toast. Yes,” Anthony rises from the head of the table as you all raise your glasses. “My sincere gratitude to the Sharmas for joining us. It has been splendid having you here to witness what is now my second annual loss at Pall-Mall. Not to be repeated, I assure you. And my special gratitude to Miss Edwina. It has certainly been a privilege to truly make your acquaintance these past few days. In fact, I believe there is a question I would like to ask you.”

You watch as most of the table sits at the very edge of their seats as Anthony pauses. Your eyes cut to Daphne, your eyebrows furrowing at the sight. Daphne steals glances at William, whose lips press tight as he stares at Anthony with—confusion? Kate shares Daphne’s weary expression, and you furrow your eyebrows as something does not quite click. Anthony now stands with his hands clasped behind his back, scanning the room. His eyes find your own, furthering your confusion as he pauses for a second. Anthony moves his gaze to William, and the two appear to speak to one another without saying a single word.

“I should like to uh—I should like to ask you please refrain from telling anyone back in London about yesterday's loss. I fear the harm to my reputation would simply be too great,” Awkward chuckles chorus through the room, but you glare daggers at the Viscount. You may not know classic literature well or Latin, but you know your sisters. The fall of Edwina’s face appears subtle, but the sting of Anthony’s words are unmistakable. Daphne and Kate let out sighs of relief as William stares at you. You cannot decipher what he contemplates, but you are sure it has something to do with Kate, Daphne, and Anthony. Dinner continues, and the end cannot come fast enough.

Finally, just your sisters and yourself. Kate rubs Edwina’s head as you sit without words. Deep frown lines crease Edwina’s forehead, her eyes misty, and you are confident that her self-scrutiny eats away at her insides.

“You must know you did nothing wrong,” Kate dares to say, but Edwina’s words are sharp as she speaks almost instantly, “I must have done something. The rest of the ton are now set to join us in the country. Surely, if the Viscount were to propose, he’d have done it by now. Yes?”

“Edwina, you are putting far too much pressure on yourself. You are wonderful, and they know it,” You take her hand in both your own, bringing it up to your lips.

“That is easy for you to say. People always love you, no matter where you go. You were proposed to by a man in line for the throne of England, Lady Violet dotes on you, and you charmed the Queen. You don’t even try and have done far better than I am. What if I missed my chance? Perhaps I should’ve found out more about the Bridgertons. I should’ve known more about their interests. I should’ve been better,” Edwina does not allow either of you to get a word in as a tear escapes her eyes. You place a chaste kiss on the back of her hand as your chest aches at her words.

“Edwina, do not fool yourself. How am I doing better, and yet you are the diamond of the season? You are amazing and do not need to study a man's family to prove your worthiness. If a proposal is what you want, I will beat it out of the Viscount myself if you so wish it,” Earning a chuckle from Edwina and Kate, the tension eases as a small smile plays on Edwina’s lips. It does not reach her eyes, but you do not expect to expel her fears so quickly.

A soft cry leaves her lips in one shaky breath, “I have bungled this entire affair, and now I feel like a fool.”

“Never say such a thing, Bon. I knew he would only end up hurting you. Come here,” Kate says, wrapping Edwina in her arms. You join the other side closing your youngest sister in. Your heads touch as you focus on the sound of Edwina's quiet sobs. “I hate seeing you like this.”

“I thought he liked me,” Edwina cries, her hand squeezing you both a little tighter. You meet Kate's gaze, nudging your head, telling her it was now her turn to give a pep talk.

“(Y/n) is right, Bon. You are the diamond of the season. There is nary a gentleman back in London who does not wish for your hand. You have choices, Bon. I assure you that all will be well despite this disappointment with the Viscount. Plus, do you truly wish to marry someone our sister might murder?” A loud laugh leaves Edwina’s lips as you nod in agreement with Kate. Despite the heaviness of the conversation, a warmth lingers in the air.

The following day you wake to Kate rushing into your room, sitting up; you grumble as she mutters apologies. She moves to your things, removing the cream you have used on many cuts over the years.

“Are you alright?” You ask as she applies it near her collarbone. She assures you everything’s fine. “What happened to your chest?”

“I got a bee sting while near the gardens—“ You frown as she trails off, her eyebrows furrowing as your presence seems no longer relevant. “While I am not fond of the Viscount, you could help him.”

“Why am I helping him?” You ask. Initially, you do not believe her tale of being stung in the gardens and the Viscounts' familiar reaction.

“I do not know his history, Bon. What I do know is there is something with him and bees. I think he shares your ailment. It appeared like he could not breathe. He looked so afraid—his hands were shaking. Bon, I fear I will never understand your ailment, but for the first time, there is someone who can. Please talk to him, not for him—for you.” Kate crouches at your bedside, brushing your hair with her fingers much like she would after one of your episodes. You do not say a word during the entirety of her explanation. Rarely do any of you talk about your ailment. Kate caught it during the announcement of the season’s diamond, but beyond that, it had been relatively dormant.

“I will not seek him out, but if we happen to cross each other paths, I will inquire if he is indeed alright,” You say. Kate smiles, kissing your forehead before leaving your room. It only takes you mere minutes to get ready, not bothered by doing your hair in some precious way. Your mother, Lady Violet, Lady Danbury, and Daphne appear busy planning the lunch. The Bridgerton siblings scatter amongst the large estate to their own devices, and your sister appears nowhere in sight.

While you said you would not seek him out, you find yourself in the gardens. The flowers bloom beautifully with a significant number of hyacinths in view. You marvel at the simplicity.

“Miss Sharma,” Anthony joins your side, but his gaze stays on the flowers. You watch him carefully as he eyes them not in awe but with a cloudy disposition.

“Lord Bridgerton,” You say, turning to the flowers. Anthony's expression does not change, leaving you wondering if he even heard you. Uncertainty plagues you as you are sure what you want to say but not when to say it. “I will not dawdle any longer. I fear I am familiar with where you are now in this ailment. After the horrifying feeling as if all the air will leave your body at once comes that strange calm, where you feel as though you cannot feel anything.”

Anthony’s head whips in your direction, but you do not move your eyes from the flowers. The look on his face tells you that you are on the right track, but it does not confirm your assumptions, “Kate told me what occurred earlier. Correct me if I am wrong, but typically it comes randomly, right? Often in the most inopportune times but typically from certain settings.”

“I—you are mistaken, Miss Sharma. I, the Viscount, suffer no ailment, just temporary lapses,” He does not offer you much as he turns his attention back to the flowers, and you both share similar frowns.

“There is no shame in it, Lord Bridgerton. My father used to say we all have something, if not an ailment—an insecurity. A lot of my insecurities trigger my ailment, if I am quite honest. I have a lot to live up to with two great sisters. I am a lousy shot and not as cognizant as Kate. I lack resilience. I just bury my troubles with humor. Then there’s Edwina, whom you would be a fool to not marry. She checks every box of those silly questions of yours—excelling in modern and classical literature. Which are without a doubt boring,” Anthony chuckles as he listens intently. You let out a huff as you look up and meet his gaze. He appears in awe almost.

“Miss Sharma, I think you are undoubtedly your own harshest critic. You need not be like Kate because you find and elevate the room's most exciting part. Who cares if you are a lousy shot? My younger brothers excelled in shooting before I. You have voiced your distaste for classic literature, and it does edify the mind, but one has to enjoy it to sharpen their wit,” He clasps his hands in front of him, offering a sheepish smile as you look at him. A small smile threatens to break the frown on your lips. While you look off at nothing in particular, you miss how he looks at you. At ease, he appears unusually calm, not stressing the ball or his search for a wife.

“I—I must admit that I was wrong about you, Lord Bridgerton,” You say. A chuckle left his lips while correcting you.

“Anthony,” He says. You nod your head as a smirk tugs at your lips before mocking him.

“You suddenly think we are friends?” He looks incredulously at your sardonic tone, “Oh, do not look at me as if you are unfamiliar with who I am? You can call me by my name if you like. Last I checked, I lack a title and am not a man.”

He scrunched his nose before chuckling as your personality shined through. “With much regret (Y/n), I do agree with you to a point. You lack a title, but I am a gentleman.”

“Spare me your self-righteousness, Lord Bridgerton. I guess I should congratulate you. You have finally acquired the favor of one Sharma sister, now only one more to go, and you can wed Edwina,” Anthony’s face falls at your words. Looking past the garden, William walks toward you both. He ignores your playful smile as his eyes focus on Anthony to your right.

“Miss Sharma, we require a moment alone,” William says, glaring daggers in Anthony’s direction. He does not spare you a single glance as he waits for your departure.

“Miss Sharma?” You scoff at the formality, waiting for him to look at you. After a few seconds, William’s pointed gaze turns toward you.

“Your presence is likely needed elsewhere, and if I am not mistaken, it is highly inappropriate to be with Viscount Bridgerton unchaperoned,” He sounds like your mother, and you do nothing to cover your scowl.

“I know not of your issue, and I do not like whoever this is before me. When you find the time to pull your head out of your arse, then and only then will I happily enjoy your presence. Good day Lord Beauregard,” Your mocking curtsy’s evident before you stomp from the gardens into Aubrey Hall. The rest of the day continues in a blur of your mother preparing you and Edwina for lunch. In the middle of your mother doing your hair, a tap on the door becomes the room's focal point. Mary calls out enter, to which a maid reveals a letter for you from the Duke.

Lady (Y/n),

My apologies for my demeanor earlier. I am cross with my very best friend, and I fear I took it out on you. I will not be in attendance for lunch, for I fear tensions run far too high between Anthony and I. I will be in attendance at the ball. Until then.

Lord Beauregard

“Why is the Duke cross with the Viscount? They are dear friends,” Your mother says, reading over your shoulder, shrugging lazily at the neat cursive you toss it aside.

“Lord Beauregard is upset with Lord Bridgerton? Maybe that is why he did not propose?” Edwina says. You say nothing as Kate observes you as Edwina and your mother continue theorizing. Newton nuzzles at your feet as you hold your tongue. Your mother excuses herself, leaving the three of you alone. Kate still urges Edwina to recognize that she has no shortage of options in terms of suitors. This reality matters little, Edwina speaks passionately, and you cannot discredit her logic. Anthony can indeed provide her with the life she wants—deserves. Kate sighs, looking toward you. Shrugging your shoulders, you scratch the top of Newton’s head. Edwina keeps her gaze low as she speaks cautiously, “Sisters, I’ve been thinking.”

“Clearly,” You mutter under your breath, earning a pointed stare from Kate. Edwina’s shoulders fall as she glances between the two of you. “Apologies, bon, continue.”

Edwina straightens her posture lifting her chin. Raising your eyebrow, you cannot help the faint quirk of your lips. The anticipation of Edwina’s following words nearly comical, far too dramatic for your liking, “I am now quite certain I know why he has not yet made his declaration.”

Kate stiffens, glancing at you briefly before looking back at Edwina. The action terse, earning a furrow in your eyebrows at her. Edwina looks between the two of you with this confidence that you are certain has the strength of wet tissue paper. Her features too frail, and her voice far too delicate, “It's because of the two of you. (Y/n) you push too harshly at him and Kate; you hate one another.”

Edwina crosses the room crossing her arms, contemplating the situation. You eye Kate, her posture loosens, and a long breath leaves her. She looks back at you, and the pause lasts far longer than it should. Kate shakes her gently while turning to Edwina, “Uh, hate is probably too strong a word.”

“And quite frankly, I have been going rather easy on the Viscount,” You say, leaning back in your seat, taking note to later ask Kate what’s going on. Edwina's eyes widen, a glint flashing across her irises. “Oh no, whatever it is you’re thinking, I already hate it.”

“It is clear from your exchanges with the Viscount that he shares the feelings you each have for him. (Y/n) the two of you often banter, but the line between friendship and disdain is far too blurry. Kate, the two of you simply bicker, the line is very clear, and you are on the wrong side of it. All of this time, I thought I needed help getting him to fall in love with me. But I now realize I neeapparentting him to fall in love with both of you,” Edwina speaks softly, joining you on the couch. You can feel Kate’s gaze searing into your skin as she frowns at Edwina.

“Well, I don’t know about love, but the Viscount and I have recently found some common ground. I actually gave him my blessing earlier today,” You speak casually, watching Edwina squeal excitedly. She quickly pecks your cheek before turning to Kate with a soft smile. Kate’s sharp stare does not leave you even as Edwina urges Kate to try harder.

“I have not given up, I will not give up,” Edwina says with a dreamy look in her eyes. She rests her head on your shoulder, failing to see the tense stare between the two of you. Kate wastes no time in asking Edwina to go retrieve your mother.

At the closing of the door, the room still, you both stare each other waiting for the other to speak. Newton whines softly from the floor, the tension all-consuming in the sunlit room. You scoff, crossing your arms, “If you have something to say, just say it. The shared looks with Daphne and William and looks of scrutiny are becoming rather irritating.”

Kate huffs as her shoulders fall. She glances around the room before her eyes come back to you. The second she speaks, you do nothing to hide the grimace that takes your features, her tones gentle. Too gentle, you know it all too well, “Have you lost your mind? Why would you give Anthony your blessing? This will only further complicate things.”

“Do not patronize me, Kate. What are you even on about? We do not have to like him, Kate, but we cannot deny that he can give Edwina the life she wants. A large family, simple affections, dutiful husband,” You stand up with an incredulous glint in your eyes.

“A life where her husband and sister have feelings for each other?” Kate’s words rip through you. The weight of her allegation thinning the air around you. You blink several times as though if you do it enough, it will reset time, virtually ending this conversation.

“I would never hurt Edwina like that. That is a vile accusation,” You seethe, stepping closer to Kate, the breeze from the window cooling the fury that burns your skin. Kate places her hands cautiously on your shoulders. She knows how to anger you just as easily as soothe you.

“I know, bon, but we cannot ignore the truth of the matter,” Kate says, biting the inside of your cheek; you shake her hand off your shoulder. At the window, you peer out at nothing, in particular, swallowing thickly.

“He is courting Edwina, that is all,” You do not look at her as you speak, busying yourself with the many who prepare the backyard of Aubrey Hall with tables and umbrellas.

“I confronted him during Pall Mall about this subject matter. He, too, dismissed me. Neither of you even deny your feelings, only emphasize the inappropriate nature to which your relationship treks dangerously close,” Kate says, being greeted with your silence as you focus as though the workers perform for you. A long sigh fills the silence, “I do not wish to upset you, sister. We swim in precarious waters. If not careful, we’ll drown.”

You turn to Kate, your eyes glassy. Neither of you move, and Edwina’s jubilant voice sounds in the corridor. Before the door opens, you speak barely above a whisper, “We’re friends, that is all.”

Edwina rushes into the room ahead of your mother. She runs to the clothing, insistent on picking her best dress. Your mother glances between you and Kate. It seems she catches all that Edwina misses, and still, no one speaks a word of it.

Though not customary, you wear a sleeveless apricot dress that your mother forces you to pair with a sheer shawl. You walk without a destination with Kate through the backyard, the sea of faces, unfamiliar--the people, uninteresting.

“Sisters!” You can recognize Edwina’s light tone anywhere, her voice lacking the faint bass of your tone. Edwina sits with Anthony. Kate glances your way as Anthony meets your gaze. The pause brief. You glance at Kate before both of you look back to Edwina, her smile beaming. If she notices the hesitancy, she does not show it. “Come sit with us!”

Anthony rises as you both approach. As you approach the seat across from Anthony, Kate stands by the chair across from Edwina. Your eyebrows pinch as you look at Anthony, now questioning every little detail about his demeanor—every little detail about your own.

“Miss Sharma,” Anthony stands with his hands behind his back, dutifully nodding at both of you. You fight every urge to call him Serg.

“Lord Bridgerton,” Kate says. You nod your head fighting your better nature. The boundary between yourself and your potential brother-in-law now hazy. You like his disdain, maybe even prefer it. Contempt can be understood, but anything else resembles putting together a puzzle with missing pieces. You always did like to hide away parts of the puzzles to avoid finishing them.

The three of you sit down, sharing awkward glances as Edwina smiles, sticking out amongst the polite smiles. Anthony clears his throat, momentarily filling the silence. You fidget with a string hanging from your dress as Edwina looks at Kate.

“Did you tell the Viscount about your bee sting?” Your eyes cut to Kate, then Anthony as the question seemingly stills the table further. Kate chuckles softly. She looks at Anthony, speaking plainly. He offers a mock ah that earns an eye roll as you fiddle with your dress string. Edwina’s gaze turns to you, “Sister, you are quiet. Are you alright?”

“Tired perhaps,” Shrugging, Edwina huffs softly but maintains her chipper smile. The table conversation relies focally on Edwina bouncing between the three of you. Edwina suggests that Anthony give you and Kate a tour before you can decline; both Anthony and Kate speak over each other.

“I’ll be shooting with the other gentlemen. The party is to leave quite soon, I’m afraid,” Anthony offers a charming smile toward Edwina. Your younger sister perks up, not missing the opportunity to announce your adept skills in tracking and Kate’s excellent shot. Kate scoffs as Anthony laughs, seemingly dismissing the revelation.

“Do you not think it true?” Kate says. Benedict approaches, reminding Anthony it’s almost time to go. You cannot fight the grin off your lips at the sight of Kate. She has that look on her face. The one where she gets crazy competitive and enables your shenanigans.

Anthony chuckles, glancing at you just as you roll your eyes and laugh, “Perhaps your sister excels in fields with straight aim and level ground, but surely they would have some trouble managing—“

“Well, that certainly wasn’t condescending at all,” You murmur very clearly, raising an eyebrow as you look at him. Kate follows with her own question as Anthony steps further into it. Benedict smiles largely as his oldest brother crashes and burns rather quickly.

“I only mean to say—“ Anthony's slow drawl fuels your amusement. He meets your gaze, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly.

“Because we are women?” Kate says.

“No. I did not say that.” Anthony's gaze swiftly turns to Kate. At this point, he fumbles to clarify his point, merely shoving his foot farther into his mouth.

“But you implied it,” You point out, glancing at Benedict, whose grin falls as Anthony looks at him. Anthony then chuckles, speaking with a newfound diction, “Ladies, do not hunt.”

Kate quickly distinguishes between what ladies are and are not allowed to do. You bite your bottom lip, mirroring Benedict’s grin as Edwina redirects the conversation. Before you know it, you chuckle while changing in your room as Kate grumbles about Anthony, her irritation of the smug Bridgerton allowing you reprieve from her hefty assumptions. You push her accusation and William's proposal to the back of your mind. The fresh country air pulls a large smile to your lips. The glances from the other men barely reach you as Kate glares at them. Your and Kate's chaperone struggling like a fool on her horse behind the two of you. You sit on the back of Kate’s horse, your eyes taking in all the greenery, specifically the dirt that sits just faintly visible beneath it. The untrained eye would miss the faint but present signs of life in the area. One of the gentlemen up ahead calls the hunting party to the right.

“To the right?” You mutter, your eyebrows pinching as you glance over Kate’s shoulder. Several men steer their horses right as your eyes lock on Anthony’s back, the mocking tone leaving you with ease, “Viscount Bridgerton, do we intend to merely gaze at nature this day?”

“I do like your riddles, Miss Sharma, but I would love it if you spoke plainly,” Anthony says, his overly saccharine smile matching his mocking tone. Kate supplants Benedict spot riding next to Anthony, putting the two of you in clear view of the other.

“My sister's, right. Look, tracks are going off to the left. You can see the cloven shape in the moss,” Kate says. You spot her find, nodding your head as you gesture to the closest tree to the tracks, “The markings of the tree, deer like to rub their antlers against them.”

“Let’s stay with the group. If we find nothing, I shall offer myself up for both your target practice,” Anthony says, rolling your eyes as you scoff.

“You shall most likely come out unscathed as my target but rest assured, Kate won’t miss,” You taunt, tilting your head mockingly. Anthony narrows his eyes at you, a smile ghosting upon his lips. Kate glances between the two of you, sighing as she clears her throat, ending the moment as swiftly as it arrives. Silence blankets the three of you. You rest your head on the back of Kate’s shoulder, huffing quietly. The silence lives for only a few seconds as you perk up, “Lord Bridgerton, do you know why Lord Beauregard departed so abruptly?”

“He likely made haste once he realized you are more vexing than you are charming,” Anthony says with a matter-of-fact tone as you roll your eyes.

“I knew you thought me charming. The rest of your family certainly finds me to be so,” You fire back instantly, a smirk on your lips as you hold your chin up high. Anthony mimics your eye roll while looking ahead, your moment short-lived as William’s proposal lingers in your mind. You continue with half-hearted amusement while drumming against the saddle, “It’s unlikely William runs from me given his desire to make me his bride.”

Your eyes fog over as you presently leave the moment, Anthony’s locked stare failing to garner your attention. His voice lacks the condescension it has carried throughout the entirety of the day. He ignores Kate’s stare as he looks at you, asking, “You are engaged?”

The drop of your stomach at his question makes you sit straight as a pencil, a distant ringing in your ear faint and nagging. If Kate notices, she does not show or voice it. It seems that minutes—no perhaps hours pass since the question leaves Anthony’s lips, and yet his brother calls after him mere seconds after. Yet the question still lingers. You find yourself considering the possibilities. Will you marry him? You should have an answer. At least that’s what you believe.

Uncertain. Unbecoming. Unworthy.

A foolish—Kate’s voice pulls you back to the present. The horse comes to a stop as the masses dismount and scatters amongst the woods, “Sister, are you alright?”

“Always,” You say, climbing down with a grin. Kate eyes you carefully, and you wonder if she can see how you bury the anxiety, smothering its fire and leaving mere smoke in its wake.

Marching through the woods, you put your focus on your surroundings. You ignore how Kate challenges the others on how to go about the hunt. Kate and Anthony, too consumed bickering to notice how you veer off further and further from each of them. The lean, long-legged ruminant mammal greets your gaze with glowing reddish-brown fur with a cream-colored underbelly. A quiet chuckle leaves your lips, placing your gun down. You watch it in awe.

“Good find, bon!” Kate whispers. She joins your side, meeting your amazed expression with a proud smile. Anthony joins the two of you quite loudly, both of you shushing him as he thankfully did not manage to rouse the deer.

“Are you two quite serious? You cannot just go off like that,” Anthony scolds. Rolling your eyes, you scoff.

“If I wished to just see the trees and shrubbery, I would’ve gladly stayed and followed your very skilled guide,” Your sardonic tone earns a mocking smile, the two of you appearing like squabbling children.

“Lord Bridgerton, would you please be quiet. Bon, it’s your find. You should take the shot,” Kate says. All eyes fall on you, a chuckle leaving your parted lips as you stammer before the words escape you. Your sentences do not form or leave you as you glance at your gun.

Anthony purses his lips as Kate holds her gun out to you. You stare at the gun for several seconds, swallowing thickly. Just as you go to refuse, your blood boils as Anthony’s words reach your ears, “Miss Sharma, cowardice looks good on no one.”

“Takes a craven to know one,” You grumble. Taking the gun from Kate’s hand, you crouch down on the fallen tree. The barrel, at a comfortable place below your shoulder against your armpit, you inhale deeply, controlling the subtle tremble of your hands. Your palms glide against the gun faintly, coating it in a light sheen of sweat. You squeeze the trigger, closing your eyes, the sound scurrying away, telling you the verdict of your shot. Standing up, the sound of the hunting party rushing overfills your ears. Biting the inside of your cheek, your mind scrambles to prepare quick comebacks at the inevitable teasing that heads your way from the Viscount Bridgerton.

Just as the first few faces arrive, Anthony’s voice fills the silence, “It headed that way. It appears I am a bit rusty, but both Miss Kate and Miss (Y/n) are to be credited for finding the deer.“

Kate meets your gaze with a knowing look, but it does not matter as neither of you says a word to the other. The bout of confusion silencing, Kate does not push the subject any further than earlier, and you are grateful.

As the sky bleeds orange, it soon blackens, leaving you to lie awake with the pattering of rain outside your window to keep you company. Like most nights, you slip out of your room to your favorite part of Aubrey Hall, the steps. Sheltered by the house without being in the place. You rest your legs on your elbows on your knees, your chin against your palms like a patient child. The rain falls in heavy droplets, and light splashes mist up, just barely reaching you. It’s constant and unwavering. Approaching steps lull as soft as the pouring rain. You glance at the cup placed at your side.

“I like to have tea on my restless nights. It’s soothing,” Anthony sits at your side, staring out at the rain as he speaks. He takes a cautious sip of his own tea, glancing over at you when silence greets him. You stare at him with a raised brow glancing between him and the cup sitting next to you.

“I prefer—“

“Coffee. Perhaps if you take the time to look at the cup, you will recognize it,” Anthony says casually, taking another sip of his tea. You look at the light brown drink, steam wafting from it to your nose. The sweet smell leaves your mouth salivating in anticipation.

“Is your plot to assassinate me, Viscount Bridgerton? Presenting as a dutiful potential future brother-in-law with a cup of arsenic in hand?” You ask. Taking the handle of your cup, you bring it to your lips while holding Anthony’s gaze, amusement dancing in your eyes.

“Why, of course, my lady. Name a better pass time. I’ll wait,” He says, earning a chuckle as you wipe the remnant of the coffee from your lips. It lacks the nutmeg and cardamom you are used to. The bittersweet taste familiar but all the more different.

“Very funny, Viscount Bridgerton,” You chuckle softly, taking another sip as you peer back out at the rain. The muggy air and warm drinks flush your skin, a faint tint of reddish pink covering you. It’s serene but not perfect with the uncomfortable temperature, poor visibility, and loud silence. Yet it works. Neither you nor he moves to break this solitude. It lasts for seemingly a lifetime in mere minutes.

“William asked you to marry him?” Anthony says. You sigh, placing down your cup of coffee. You can see Anthony’s watching you from the corner of your eye.

“I presumed he would tell his best friend,” You are quick but not fast enough.

“Do you love him?” Anthony asks. You stare out at the rain with an unreadable expression. Your silence does not paint your truth to its full scope.

“I love William, I do. But I’m not in love with William,” You swallow thickly, your fingers fidgeting in your lap, “He wishes for me to be happy. Yet he does not understand what love does.”

“And what is that?” Anthony murmurs. He looks away from you, tracing the rim of his cup.

“It—“ You open your mouth just as your thoughts jumble in your mind. Taking a deep breath, Anthony glances over at you, a curious glint in his eyes. You cannot help but notice how you hold his full attention, “Love is like an anchor. It drags down to the sea. Further and further from reality, the reality is that marriage is an economic proposition. I do not wish to delve into detail, but the fantasy of love and marriage have long been sullied for me. I do not desire it nor require it. I know that may sound harsh, but it is my truth.”

“Not harsh at all. Refreshing perhaps,” Anthony says quietly. You nearly do not hear him. He takes a sip of his tea before clearing his throat, “After, uh, after my father passed, it took such a heavy toll on my mother. They shared a great love which showed all the good, but once you’ve seen the bad, it’s near—near—“

“Irreversible,” You say softly, finishing his sentence and meeting his eyes. The rain rages on, the soothing white noise all-consuming. You flinch as the sky brightens with the strike of purple lightning that flashes across the sky. The loud following booms rumbling the ancestral home.

“Perhaps it is time to retire to our rooms. Allow me to escort you,” Anthony says. You raise an eyebrow at him with a teasing grin. He rolls his eyes taking a taunting tone, “To ensure the arsenic takes, of course.”

Chuckling softly, you reach for your cup, cut off as Anthony takes it before you. You offer a mock surrender raising your hands in defeat earning a chuckle. Anthony walks you to your room door. Pausing before entering, speaking just barely above a whisper, “Tell anyone of this, and I will deny it. You are not as dreadful as you present yourself to be.”

“Great final words, my lady,” Anthony jokes, earning an eye roll as you bid him goodnight before disappearing into your room. Inside you choose not to dwell on the conversation too long, finding sleep at the touch of your face to your pillow.

You stand with Lady Danbury flittering with the uncomfortable corset rather than pay attention to all in attendance. Lady Danbury glances at you, vocalizing the arrival of Lord Beauregard. Your eyes dart across the room, considering blending into the sea of ambitious ladies and their slithering mothers.

“Miss Sharma,” William offers a warm smile while holding out a glass of wine. He apologizes for his absence, suggesting they dance.

“Mhm, do I let you off the hook so easily?” You sip your wine with a tilt of your head, a playful glint dazzling your eyes. William lets out a hearty laugh, his own sparkle shining with mischief.

“Please, oh beautiful Miss Sharma. Please forgive me, for I cannot continue without your forgiveness,” William clutches his chest, throwing his head back dramatically. The laugh that leaves your lips rises from deep in your stomach. Your cheeks grow sore as you ignore the looks of others. It’s almost easy to forget the frivolity of being in William’s company.

“Shut up and dance with me,” You chuckle. Discarding your cup, you take William’s hand, leading him to the dance floor. He bows as you curtsy, the two of you taking your uniform positions. Step back. Chin up high. Lift your hand. Turn. Each step visibly graceful and painfully robotic, controlled.

“I don’t wish to pressure you, but I cannot help but wonder where your thoughts are on my proposition of sorts,” William says. He makes the dance look easy. Each move carried out as though instinctive.

“Mhm, binding myself to the royal family who currently lacks an heir puts me dangerously close to being wed to a man who could be king someday. You offer not a simple proposition but a hefty proposal that cannot be taken lightly,” Your matter-of-fact tone impedes your count. William shifts right, covering your stumble with a light lift as he turns the both of you. When your feet touch the ground, you grumble a thank you continuing the dance, “I am too uncoordinated.”

“Some could say unique,” William counters. Taking your hand, he spins you gently.

“Unfit,” You fire back, continuing your count, step back. Hand on his shoulder, the other in his hand.

As expected of the dance, William steps forward following your step back. His nose brushes your own as his gaze does not falter, “Perfect. Absolutely perfect. Without a doubt.”

Your voice catches in your throat, William looking at you as imagine man did upon discovering fire. While your decision remains unclear, you are certain of one thing. The security and companionship of William’s offer. Your eyes glaze over, thoughts flooding your mind all at once. William chuckles softly, pulling away, continuing a simple sway. “I do not aim to make you uncomfortable or pressure you. Only for you to see you as I do.

“It appears Eloise is enjoying this night just as much as you,” William looks over at Eloise. She dances a few paces to your left. Her eyebrows pinched as her eyes narrowed at Lord…you cannot put a name to his face. In seconds the gentleman walks away as Lady Bridgerton follows Eloise to the stairs. Her exchange with her mother does not reach you, but the looks are all too familiar. Lady Violet's unable to understand her daughter but proceeds with gentle patience, Eloise’s frustration. Neither understands the other. You find yourself glancing across the room at your own mother.

She smiles encouragingly, blissfully unaware of your plight. Unable to see the world through your eyes.

“You should go after her,” William says, pulling away from the simple box step you’ve both resigned to. Your eyebrows furrow as William bows, with a fond smile as he speaks, “Eloise Bridgerton. A comely lady of the ton going against the norms of the system set upon them. Sound familiar?”

You cannot stop the smile that spreads across your face. William nudges his head toward the direction Eloise disappeared. Nodding your head, you follow the stairs, passing Penelope on your way. She quickly calls out where to find Eloise. It does not take you long to find her door. You offer two light knocks, turning your head to listen in.

“I wish to be alone!”

“Might I join you? I certainly wish for a reprieve from the farce that occurs in your family home,” Chuckling, you lean on the door frame. Shuffling behind the door greeting you with the distant music of the ball continuing on down the hall. After a few seconds, you are sure she will ignore you, but the opening of the door welcomes you. Eloise sits on the floor a few feet from the door. She pulls at the string of her dress, watching as a piece of hem gently unravels. You take a seat next to her, drumming your fingers against your thighs, “do you wish to talk about it?”

“Being my mothers' disappointment? Not particularly,” Eloise says with a matter-of-fact tone.

“I get it. The feeling is rather draining. Focus on it too much, and you’ll find yourself scrutinizing every detail about yourself,” You say, resting your head back against the wall. The laxness of your tone contrasts her furrowed eyebrows.

“You feel like your mothers' disappointment?” Her incredulous tone earns a chuckle as you nod with a gentle smile. “Not a chance. You’re pretty and charismatic, every mother's dream.”

“Many find me argumentative and blunt. Kate is more reserved. She has mastered proper etiquette. Edwina is the comely charismatic one. Most days, I can’t tell if Mother fears what I might do or what I might say,” Your words leave you quickly, shrugging as you near ramble. Wetting your lips, you chuckle as Eloise continues your rambling, “And even when you say something outside of the norm as they’re expecting, they act as though it surprises them. As if they don’t know our natures.”

“Ah, so my Mom isn’t special. It just comes with the having a mother package, I see,” You jest, chuckling softly as Eloise does as well. Only little shards of the prior remains. A reminder in the music that plays from downstairs as the ball continues. The fancy dresses you both wear that itch at the neckline and constrict your midsection. Reminders in your stations amongst society, “Eloise, we are the second daughters. The middle children, like shadows not clearly seen but fairly visible. Existing behind the first and last born daughters. It may sound like a sad reality, but there’s something rather amazing about us.”

“Being ignored and forced to conform?” Eloise’s eyebrows pinch as she stares at your chuffed stupor.

After a few seconds of staring off with the grin of a fool, you speak. Your voice much like velvet, appearing as though nothing in the world could hurt you, “We get to be whomever we wish, not what our mothers molded us to be for society.”

“Are you certain you don’t want to marry any of my brothers?” Eloise smiles, sliding closer. She rests her head on your shoulder. You kiss the crown of her head before resting your own head on hers. Eloise yawns as her words leave her, resembling a sleepy child as she says, “I do not wish for you to leave. My sisters don’t get me.”

“It’s okay. Sisters aren’t supposed to. It keeps things interesting that way,” You joke, earning a weak chuckle. Eloise does not say a word. She continues resting her head on your shoulder. A few minutes pass before Benedict pokes his head in, and you do your best to help get Eloise to bed. You both walk back to the main room together, where the party continues.

“Eloise seems to really like you,” Benedict says with a big grin. You furrow your eyebrows, looking at him.

“And just what exactly are you implying, Lord Bridgerton?” Your playful and straightened posture earns a laugh.

“Just that whether we become in-laws through our siblings or not, you, Miss Sharma, are always welcome back here. Especially for Pall-Mall,” Benedict says. His smile spreads across his face, even his eyes smiling.

“I will remember this invitation and hold you to it,” You tease, grinning as Benedict assures you his word is his bond. As you both walk, he cuts right at the dance floor. You cut left, following the outskirts of the dance floor. Edwina’s smile shines on the opposite side, the light of a young girl in her eyes. Reaching Edwina’s side, she clings to your arm with a giddy smile.

“Oh, sister! Lord Bridgerton and I have danced twice tonight. Twice!” Edwina exclaims, her smile shining up at you as she interlaces her fingers in yours. She gestures to the dance floor where Kate and Anthony dance. Your eyes stay on them as Edwina speaks, her words not fully registering as Anthony’s eyebrow furrow at something Kate says. Edwina gives your hand a light squeeze, “Oh, Didi, I’m certain he’d not have asked me for two if he did not have intentions for the evening. Kate should be giving her blessing as we speak. Oh, isn’t it all so exciting, sister? We shall both be wed before the season's end!”

“Yeah,” Chuckling softly, your eyes stay on Kate and Anthony. Anthony’s eyes widen before scanning around the room. His search halts as he captures your gaze. Edwina still speaks, oblivious to your lack of attention or how Kate looks between you and your staring partner. Anthony glances at the door and back at you; arching your brow, you turn to Edwina. Your pensive stare eludes her as she rambles with a large smile, painting the vision she sees of your future. Anthony politely bows to Kate before leaving the room as Kate joins you and Edwina. If she notices how your eyes follow Anthony out of the room, she does not give any inkling of it as she nods along to Edwina’s excitement. Your ears ring as the various colored gowns of the room muddle, and your vision splinters. You swallow dryly, the ringing in your ears growing louder. Pulling at the edge of your short-sleeved dress brings a faint cool to your flushed skin.

“Sister, are you alright?” Edwina’s voice snaps you back into the present, looking at her with a weak smile.

“Just a bit warm. I think I shall take a moment to get some air,” The words leave you quickly, almost incoherently. You do not look at Kate, her gaze burning a hole into the side of your head. The corridor outside of the ball greets you with low light and a cool breeze from the open back door. Anthony stands on the porch pacing back and forth. You look at him and then glance back at the doors that lead into the ball. You should go back inside, of this you are sure. Despite this, you take a few steps forward, your light efforts capturing his attention. You tilt your head toward the library doors before entering without a word. The room is far more lit than the hall, with many candles and closed windows drying your mouth. You eye the pitcher and cup on the desk, undoubtedly some form of alcohol—hopefully far stronger than wine.

Anthony slams the door behind him, his fists clenching as he paces. You roll your eyes, crossing your arms, your mocking tone filling the silence, “Please just share what I have done this time. The suspense is killing me.”

“When will you leave? Huh?” He asks, furrowing your eyebrows; he gives you no time to speak. A mirthless chuckle leaves his lips, “Oh, Miss Sharma, now you are one for silence?”

“What are you going on about?” You scoff, narrowing your eyes at his condescension.

“Your sister speaks of your plans to depart back to India, so when shall you leave?” Anthony grits his teeth, hissing his words as he steps closer to you. Your eyebrows quirk up, staring into his eyes, quickly identifying what lies across his face—utter betrayal. Anthony shakes his head, scoffing, “Of course, you grow silent when one desires you to speak. You live to get under my skin. I’m almost certain god has sent you to punish me.”

“Lord Bridgerton, I fear we have found ourselves in a conundrum that if it ever came to light, I fear my family would never forgive me. We mustn’t confuse our understanding and friendly nature for something entirely different. Yes, I can be infuriating and insolent, but it's a part of my charm, I think. We are just confused. A line is blurring between us,” A weak chuckle leaves your lips. How can one want to punch and kiss someone all at once? You shake your head as though to rid yourself of the thought and feeling. Internally scolding yourself for ignoring Kate’s warnings, you clear your throat, “You seek a wife of perfection, which my sister can provide. That is simply where we must stand.”

“I am a man of honor and of certainty. I have been certain of what I seek of what I want from start to finish in all things. Especially matters of my family, and yet—“ He pauses, inhaling sharply as he looks at you. The look in his eyes that was not there before that you have not seen before.

“Here, in your quick wit and inability to listen to reason, you challenge all I stand on—all my certainty. Your sister and I share understanding, but there is no shroud for what we share,” Anthony stands before you with a look of utter desperation, of devotion. His eyes reflect all you feel. The confusion, the frustration, the desire.

“Lord Bridgerton—” Straightening your posture, you clear your throat. It falls on deaf ears as Anthony steps closer, his hand ghosting over your cheek. The heat of his palm spreads across your face like wildfire that never quite touches. He speaks quietly as though coveting his words “(Y/n). Tell me you feel nothing. Tell me, your mind does not feel the temptation of this dalliance? Do you have no comprehension of how you plague me?”

Your voice sits in your throat. Every muscle in your body tense as though you await something cataclysmic. Neither of you takes your eyes off the other. His hand still cradles the air centimeters from your cheek. The crackling of the fireplace fills the silence.

It all implodes with the faintest tilt of your head into his palm. You both pull forward sharply. His hands cradle your face as your foreheads touch. You place a hand on his shoulder. The proximity dizzying. The feel of him all-consuming. You squeeze your eyes shut, the consequences be damned.

“This is wrong,” You whisper, gripping his shoulder and taking long deep breaths through your nose. His breath tickles your lips as the space between you further closes.

“Oh!” You flinch back, Daphne’s eyes looking from you to her brother. Her eyes are wide as Anthony steps toward her. She looks back at you, speaking softly as your glassy eyes stare back at her like a fearful child, “I’m sorry.”

Daphne leaves the room hastily, with Anthony chasing behind her. You walk to the desk, pouring a quick glass of the drink. The drink makes you grimace as you swallow it down in one go. You do not look up as the door opens again, crying out desperately, “I require something stronger, please!”

“Oh, Bon,” Kate says softly. You rest your hands flat on the desk letting your head hang as your tears fall beneath you. She pulls you into a tight hug, letting you sob into her shoulder. You refuse to share the source of your despair, your thoughts haunting you. Kate was right. Even William was aware, “Oh (Y/n).”

“Didi, it’s all wrong. It’s all wrong! ” You cry out, looking up at her. She cradles your face. All red and puffy.

“Bon, we will get through this, I promise you. Wipe your tears and show me the fearsome (Y/n) I know.” Kate says, kissing your forehead. She takes you up to bed, tucking you in, even brushing her fingers through your hair as you quietly cry with your back toward her. When Edwina stops in, she offers well wishes before bed. It only fuels the fire of your despair.

The following day, you rise early, bathing before hastily packing your things. You thank the heavens that Kate makes no mention of the night prior, nor does Daphne. Your goodbyes? Almost robotic as you anxiously await packing away into the carriage and leaving Aubrey Hall behind. Kate holds your hand, offering occasional light squeezes as the three of you stand by the carriage. Edwina glances at your interlaced hands and says nothing as she takes your free hand in her own, kissing the top of your hand.

The slight chill of the morning breeze does nothing to cool the warmth that holds you captive. Your palms are sweaty as your stomach wrestles itself. You look at Edwina on the brink of tears, her eyebrows furrowing at the sight.

“Sister, are you alright?” Edwina’s head tilts as she gently squeezes your hand. Your throat drying just before you can find your words.

“Um, I need to—“ You speak quietly, the calling of wait making you tense as you all turn toward the front door of Aubrey Hall. Anthony marches down the stairs with unwavering confidence, squeezing Kate’s hand tight; you swallow dryly.

“May I speak with you?” He says. You fail to notice how Edwina slips her hand out of yours as well as how Anthony's eyes do not meet your own. Your ears ring so loud you do not hear the words that leave Anthony’s lips, only registering the knee he takes as he holds a ring out to Edwina. Kate whispers in your ear, coaching you to keep it together as your nails dig into her palms. Edwina’s eyes are large and shining. She looks at you and Kate. The smokescreen of pending nuptials blinds her to the mournful look that holds your face. Your mother focuses too intently on Edwina and Anthony to notice but Lady Danbury? Lady Danbury eyes you with a knowing look, but still, she says nothing. As the seconds pass like hours, your expression sharpens as though the despair never existed. You look at Kate, offering a curt nod.

“I do wonder about the trim. Is it too much?” Edwina asks, standing up on the podium as your mother beams up at her. You are certain the last you saw her so happy was when your father was still alive. Sitting by the window, you lazily peer out at nothing in particular. No one comments on your icy demeanor, but you know they have noticed it.

“Nothing is too much now that the Queen is hosting,” Your mother smiles, looking from Edwina to the Modiste. As your mother continues to look over different fabrics, Edwina may like the room grows silent in her absence. Kate steals glances at you as Edwina takes in the view of her gown.

“Did I mention we will be married by the archbishop himself?” Edwina says gleefully. Kate's smile does not reach her eyes as she nods and watches you. The bride-to-be glances over at you with a frown, “Sister, did something happen between you and the Duke? You’ve been unwell since the last night before we left Aubrey Hall.”

“We are fine,” Your flat tone barely audible as you continue eyeing the bustling road outside.

“Sister, you should accept his proposal. Then we would both have royal weddings, and you would be a royal! The Queen already adores you, and I’ve seen the way Lord Beauregard looks at you,” Edwina says, her smile large and tone encouraging. You purse your lips looking over at Kate. She holds your gaze before you turn back to the window. Edwina frowns, observing the brief moment, but she says nothing. Instead, she maintains her smile, “We must get you both dresses as well. Special ones. This wedding is as much both for your triumphs as it is for mine. Both of you clearly said something that swayed him to declare himself.”

“We cannot claim credit, Bon,” Kate says, chuckling slowly while shaking her head, but Edwina insists. You chew on your bottom lip, ignoring the burn of your throat, blinking continuously. Kate reminds Edwina that you both plan to leave after the wedding if you have not accepted William’s proposal.

Back at Lady Danbury’s, you hide away in your shared room, sitting by the window lazily drumming your fingers against your leg. You let out a frustrated huff, your sulking growing utterly dull. Biting the inside of your cheek, you glance at your room door, perhaps a venture outside. You stick your head out of the door, looking down both sides of the corridor before stepping lightly out. Where your mother is currently is not to your knowledge, but you know she will prevent wandering if she catches wind of it. You move carefully past the tearoom, freezing in your tracks.

“—nothing appropriate about what you’re doing proceeding with your engagement,” Kate seethes. Frowning, you press your ear to the door.

“On the contrary, I believe it is the most proper outcome for all,” Anthony says, rolling your eyes as you glare at the door as though he stands before you.

“Oh, and what of everything that has happened between you and my sister at Aubrey Hall?” Kate says. The silence tenses every muscle in your body as you await his answer.

“Nothing passed between Miss (Y/n) and I,” Anthony says cooly, a blatant lie. You bawl your fists. How dare he! Opening your eyes to something you could have easily continued oblivious to, only to shut you out completely. You march off to the stairs, stopping at the sight of your mother and sister at the bottom of them.

“Is that so? If I recall correctly, you appeared angrier than hornets at the prospect of her departure,” Kate says, “I can recall the way your eyes find her in every room. The way you look at her, far more than a prospective brother-in-law. If she accepts Lord Beauregard’s proposal, you will be bound to each other in a tortuous way forever. ”

“Would Miss (Y/n) and I being the ones to marry after all my public courting of Miss Edwina, be the outcome you desire?” Anthony asks. You greet them with a large smile stalling as you scratch the back of your neck.

“No, but I’m certain it’s yours,” Kate says. You make certain to enter the room first, giving Lord Bridgerton and Kate a moment to step away from each other. Anthony greets your sister and mother with a polite smile. It falters as he meets your gaze. You roll your eyes quickly, averting your gaze to your mother.

“I will return in seconds. You lot can begin without me,” You sputter, leaving the room before your mother can protest. She calls out to you, but you are already out of the door and halfway down the stairs. A pair of hands steadying you at your waist as you crash into a chest.

“Easy there. Are you always so spritely?” William chuckles, offering a warm grin as you recollect yourself. He frowns, taking a good look at you, “(Y/n) are you—?”

“If we were to wed, would you consider coming to India?” You ask. It’s selfish and wrong, complicating your situation even further if possible.

“I uh—well, I could, but once my grandfather leaves us, I will have to return. His responsibilities shall fall to me,” William says, his eyebrows furrowing as he looks at you, “(Y/n) I only want you to consider this if you truly see it in your future.”

“Let’s not fret over it now. Mother will wish to see you. Come,” You take his arm, pulling him along with you to the tearoom. Your mother and Edwina smile happily at William’s presence in the room. Anthony stares at the two of you, his eyes locked on your intertwined arms.

“Well, now that you are all here. I have news. Lord and Lady Sheffield sent word they are in London,” Lady Danbury says. You do not hide your grimace, looking up at Lady Danbury in pure disgust. Kate looks at your mother as Edwina smiles.

“Our grandparents?” Edwina says, looking at you. You look down at the door, counting each line you can see in the wood.

“Indeed. It seems they read the engagement announcement and wish to make your acquaintance and, uh, that of your future husband, of course,” Lady Danbury ignores the lack of reaction from all of you except Edwina. You scoff quietly, muttering to yourself, “Of course they do.”

“They are already in town?” Kate asks. William glances between you and your family, and so does Anthony. The best friends look at each other before Anthony addresses the elephant in the room. You glance at your mother, the way she controls her shallow breathing—looking around as though seeking an escape. Her mannerisms are familiar, too familiar.

Anthony escorts Edwina to the promenade as William escorts you. Your disposition even lower than before somehow. William stops in his tracks, crossing his arms. You stop not looking up, just waiting for him to rejoin you. When he does not, you look up with a frown.

“I’ve never seen you so, so gloomy. There must be some form of an insult or jest just charging up in there,” William smiles gently, watching as you shake your head, lowering your gaze. “Do you wish to talk about it?”

You sigh as the two of you walk again, nodding your head slowly, “My grandparents are just awful. Overcritical and impossible to please. I’m in no mood for them presently.”

“Well then, before the impending doom that comes from your grandparents' presence, perhaps you shall humor me?” William asks, standing on the ports and gesturing to the secured rowboat. “If I become insufferable, I will happily allow you to throw me overboard.”

“Promise?” You say quietly, fighting the grin that takes your lips as William smirks.

“You have my word,” He says, offering his hand out to her. She takes it, allowing him to help her into the board. He then gets in himself, untying the rope and pushing off the port. “In the colder season, this freezes over. It’s rather fun to step on the top of the ice and glide around. I tend to fall a lot doing it, but it’s all in good fun, I swear it.”

“Really?” The laugh that leaves your lips appears foreign, replacing your petulant stares. You look over the side of the water, picturing William struggling to stay atop the frozen terrain.

“Careful, you’re tilting the boat,” William says, raising an eyebrow. You smirk. Your eyes shine with a glint of mischief.

“What, like this?” You say, shifting your weight from one side to the other William gives grips the edge of the boat, giving you a hard stare. After a few seconds, it melts into a grin as he dips his hand in the water, splashing it up at you. You squeal, shielding your face as you splash water up at him. The two of you laugh like giddy children, gaining the attention of the many who walk around the promenade.

Kate chaperones Edwina and Anthony. They watch the two of you. Anthony’s gaze does not leave your form. Edwina’s words fall on deaf ears as he locks onto your laughter. Your younger sister gasping, pulls Anthony back into the present as the boat overturns, sending both you and William into the water. Both you and William resurface, laughing infectiously, not caring how everyone watches the two of you.

“You tipped the boat over, not me!” You exclaim, helping William push the boat toward the port.

“Says the one who insisted on rocking the boat,” William playfully scoffs as the two of you near the port flipping the boat right side up. You look up, grinning as Kate shakes her head at you, and Edwina happily points out your better mood.

“It seems you always know how to lift her spirits, Lord Beauregard,” Edwina says with a smile. William smiles at your sister, giving her a polite nod, his smile lessening as his gaze moves to Anthony.

“Miss Sharma, please allow me,” Anthony says, offering his hand out to you as he bends down. You stare at it, set on ignoring it, but Kate gives you a look as she gestures to the wandering eyes around you all. Accepting his hand begrudgingly, you quickly pull away from him, standing next to Kate. Your dress clings to you, dripping water down your entire body. William climbs onto the pier turning to fasten the boat back to the log, but Anthony’s already tying it tight.

“Fret not, friend. You always did struggle with tying knots,” The dig’s not lost on you nor Kate. You glare at Anthony, chewing on the inside of your cheek. Anthony and William stare at each other, the tension high as you look around, noticing the other onlookers growing. You narrow your eyes, stepping forward and pushing your palm against Anthony’s side. He stumbles forward into William, the two crashing into the lake.

Your jaw drops as they hurdle into the water, Edwina exclaiming your name as you fail to fight back your laughter. The water splashing up at the three of you, only fueling your amusement. Kate's eyes widen as her gaze bounces between you and the two lords in the water.

Anthony plants his hands flat on the pier glaring up at you as he lifts himself up first. His soaking-wet shirt now sheer, leaving nothing to the imagination. Kate nudges your side, reminding both you and Edwina of the inappropriate nature of staring. Even as the words leave her lips, the three of you shamelessly watch him. The show not ending as William pulls himself up. It’s wrong, oh so wrong, but every passing thought in your mind bubbles, leaving a warmth at your core.

“That was fun,” Smiling, you look between your sisters, who both shake their heads at you. Kate suggests it’s time to head back in worry of you getting sick. Your dress still drips water as you casually bounce on the balls of your feet. In the carriage, you sit next to Kate, resting your head on her shoulder while gently kicking Edwina’s feet.

“Bon, your hair is still wet,” Kate sighs, failing to shrug you off. Edwina giggles softly, moving her feet as you follow hers.

“Quite observant, Miss Sharma,” You chuckle, rubbing your hair against her side, earning a groan as she pushes you away. Edwina covers her soft chuckles with her hand as she watches the two of you. The carriage ride’s mostly quiet beyond a few snickers and Kate’s annoyance with your persistence.

Back at Lady Danbury’s, you openly gape at the sight of an indisputable fact—you are indeed your mothers' child. For hours your mother rushes around like a mad woman. She rushes about the house between making sure you all wear the perfect dress to the intricate styles of your hair and the jewelry you accessorize with. Not a single thing out of place, snarkily reminding you that today’s not the day for nonsense, as she calls it.

Kate offers you a weak smile as you roll your eyes grumbling beneath your breath. If either your mother or Kate dislikes the Sheffields more than you, they hide it well. The last time you can recall seeing them at the ripe age of five, you glared at them for the entirety of your visit. Their interest only stemming from the gossip about your exciting personality, to later deem you unruly. You never did understand why your mother even sent you there. The damage—irreversible.

“It’s just one dinner,” Kate says, fiddling gently with your hair smoothing out every little menial imperfection.

“Yes, one dinner of those people we have to call family scrutinizing every little detail about us. About mother. About you,” You take a deep breath, your expression hardening as you swallow dryly. Edwina enters the room doing a light twirl, her smile large. There’s a clear difference between who can remember meeting the Sheffields and who does not. Edwina’s smile falters at the sight of your pensive stare. She walks, placing her hands on your shoulders with an encouraging smile.

“There is still time to take a small nap if you need didi. I can distract Mama,” Edwina says, chuckling softly as you shake your head, leaning your head onto her hand.

“I appreciate it, bon, but I know a nap will do nothing but agitate me further,” You glance at the door watching your mother jet past. A chuckle leaves your lips, “And quite frankly, Mama as well.”

“Edwina dear, I need to speak with your sister alone,” Your mother enters the room, taking a deep breath as she softly pants. Edwina smiles, nodding her head and leaving the room without a further word. Lady Mary looks at you with her lips pursed.

“I know, Mother. I do not require further instructions for dinner tonight. Be punctual, proper, and pleasant,” You huff, crossing your arms. Lady Mary sighs, walking over. She takes your hands.

“Oh, my wildflower child, you are all those things. I’ve come not to lecture you but to check on you. I know you carry strong feelings about my parents, and if at any point this dinner is too much, you do not have to stay for the entirety of it,” She says softly. You know her words are untrue. To leave dinner so abruptly would only further their thoughts of you.

“Right, so they can nod their heads and look down on me as the defective one of their bloodline. I will not,” Your words are sharp and tense. You stand with perfect posture. Lady Mary shakes her head, but her protests mean nothing, do nothing. You stand, appearing the complete antithesis of the girl everyone knows. “If I could get through two weeks of your parents as a child, then I can get through one dinner. I no longer wish to continue discussing this topic, Mother.”

She takes a half step back from you, keeping your hands in hers. The glint in her eyes as familiar as the one all those years ago when you returned home, guilt. She does not say another word. Nodding her head, she kisses the tops of your hands softly before leaving the room. You fan yourself with your hands, the room uncomfortably hot. The faint tremble of your hands clear as you clasp them in front of you, taking a long deep breath.

After a few minutes, you leave the room in search of your sisters. Lady Danbury smiles, walking with her cane as she calls out to you. She compliments your appearance, the rich red gown complimenting your skin tone. Lady Danbury wears her knowing smirk with a present glint in her eyes, seemingly always present. The two of you enter the room together, clearly interrupting your sisters. Lady Danbury smiles as you appear ready to walk the plank.

“Our guests have arrived,” Lady Danbury announces with a large smile. Her eyes solely on Edwina, who giggles with a giddy smile, leaving the room hastily. Before either of you can follow, Lady Danbury's hand shoots out, halting you as she sidesteps Kate. Her smile falls as eyes look between the two of you.

“You may spare us the instruction, Lady Danbury. We know we are to be on our best behavior,” Kate says with a polite smile. You bite the inside of your cheek, staring off with a blank expression.

“You think me an unfeeling harridan,” She says to Kate before turning to look at you, “and you hide from me as though I see right through you. Well, ladies, I am hosting this dinner for both your sakes.”

“You know nothing of my relationship with those people,” You scoff, glaring up at her.

“And yet I do,” Lady Danbury says, her gaze softening just a tad. Mother told her. You look away from her crossing your arms as you shift on the balls of your feet. “Going forward, Edwina’s betrothal may be the end of certain hopes you’ve harbored regarding the Viscount but access to the Sheffield fortune.”

“I want nothing to do with those people or the Viscount. I will take a lifetime of struggle before I am under the Sheffields' control or ruin this for Edwina. You speak so far out of place,” You narrow your eyes at her, but she merely chuckles.

“Oh dear, you can do better than that. Dear, the life of independence you seek is close, Kate. And you (Y/n)? You have been presented with an opportunity of a lifetime. A marriage to a royal. Security for the rest of your life and full independence from your grandparents. I implore you both to think of the reward of the coming events. Think of your futures. Deny the feelings and passions as you please, but once it cools. You dear have an abundant future ahead of you, where you and your sisters are happy,” Lady Danbury stands in front of both of you. Nostalgia dances in her eyes as she smiles with a bittersweetness to her expression. You blink away the heat in your eyes, taking a deep breath to will away the bundle of nerves that dance in your stomach. When neither of you says a word, Lady Danbury smiles once more, “Come along, girls, it’s time for dinner.”

In the hallway, Edwina follows closely behind Lady Danbury. Her light pink dress sparkling in the warm candlelight. You walk with your arm folded into Kate’s, your jewel-tone gowns matching just as much as your forced polite smiles.

“Ah, Lord and Lady Sheffield, it has been too long,” Lady Danbury’s jubilant demeanor easing the suffocating tension. Not long enough, in any other circumstance, these words leave your lips, but now? Now you keep your head high and posture statue-like, “May I present Miss Sharma, Miss (Y/n), and Miss Edwina Sharma.”

You and Edwina stand before your grandparents with differing expressions as Lady and Lord Sheffield take you both in.

“Oh, my dears, look at the two of you. Aren’t they lovely?” Lady Sheffield gushes, looking between the two of you. You meet Lord Sheffield's gaze, both of you eyeing the other with similar scrutiny. Edwina voices pleasantries for the both of you. Their questions and invitations flowed quickly, evidently aimed at Edwina. They remember you just as vividly as you remember them. Still, you keep your head high, posture perfect, and expression neutral.

“Mother. Father,” Your mother greets them, leaving a chilling silence in her wake.

“I do enjoy the opera. My sister Kate is the one who introduced me to it,” Edwina says, maintaining her high spirits as she smiles over at Kate. Your jaw clenches at the forced smile Lady Sheffield sends Kate’s way, her disapproval coated in honey. Another painstakingly loud silence follows before Lady Danbury recommends they all head to the dinner table. Her diversion from the simmering tension was swift, temporarily successful.

You meet Anthony’s gaze, offering a mocking smile before following behind the others. His eyes follow you into the room, a soft sigh leaving his lips as you join Kate’s side. Edwina walks hand in hand with Lady Sheffield, who dotes upon her.

At the table, Kate sits to your right, with Lady Sheffield to your left. To your further misfortune, Anthony sits in front of you. You ignore the hole he stares into your head at the start of dinner.

“And, of course, you must be our guests at the Sheffield Manor. It is nothing compared to the estates at Aubrey Hall, to be sure, but I think it a most pretty part of Hertfordshire,” You stare at the place setting as though it’s the most incredible thing you have ever seen. Analyzing every minuscule detail of the fall colors as a better alternative to the active conversation. If you notice the glances from Kate and Anthony, you do not show it.

“Do you shoot? We a have a fine stock of birds, and you're always welcome,” Lord Sheffield says, his voice booming through the dining room. Anthony’s gaze flicks from you to your grandfather. He thanks Lord Sheffield for the invitation, expressing his enjoyment in shooting.

“Kate and (Y/n) do as well. (Y/n) is an excellent tracker, and Kate, a great shot. A most efficient duo. All three of them nearly bagged a stag on our trip to the country,” Edwina looks at you, smiling. You mirror her smile before lowering your gaze once more. The cold food and untouched table setting sit staring back at you. Lady Sheffield's mirthless chuckle fills your ears as she looks over at you. Her faux saccharine smile and words pointed, “How unusual. Do they teach young ladies to hunt and shoot in India?”

“Only the fortunate ones,” Kate mutters, snickering; you bite the inside of your cheek. It’s the first real smile on your lips all night. You catch your mothers' smirk at Kate, her gaze shifting to you. She wears a soft smile.

“Uh, Lord and Lady Sheffield, how long do you plan to stay in town?” Kate asks politely. You reach for your cup of wine, taking a long sip. Say in the morning, preferably in the hour.

“Oh, we shall stay for the wedding. And of course, for (Y/n)’s when she weds the Queen’s nephew,” Lady Sheffield speaks definitely with merriment to her tone. She speaks as though she’s boasting of something she’s accomplished as if she knows you—any of you truly.

“I have yet to decide if I will accept his proposal,” Your neutral facade wavers, your jaw clenching once more. The grip on your glass so tight that the brown of your knuckles shines white.

“Oh nonsense dear, you shall not let such a generous offer pass you,” Lady Sheffield chuckles as though she shares a beautiful joke. Only Lord Sheffield laughs. You take a deep breath covering your grimace with another long sip of wine. The bounce of your leg beneath the tablecloth gently rattles the glass atop the table. To your disdain, Lady Sheffield continues, “Imagine. The Queen herself overseeing my granddaughter's nuptials and welcoming my other granddaughter into her own family, with all things considered. Her majesty is kind to be so forgiving after everything that has happened.”

“Now, now. We are all family here,” Lord Sheffield says. You finish your wine, letting out a long shaky sigh. To your surprise, your grandfather tries and fails to deter his wife.

“An earl, no less than twelve thousand acres. Any other young lady would’ve fallen to her knees in gratitude that her parents were showing such care,” Lady Sheffield says. You glance at your mother, your patience thinning by the second. She shakes her head slightly. Lady Violet's attempts to switch the topic falls on ears, your deep breaths growing louder. Even Lady Danbury tries to engage Lady Sheffield in pleasant conversation, but it’s clear the elephant in the room will not be ignored. “And all for what? A mere clerk, was he? And with a child from a previous marriage to God-knows-who.”

“My mother has a name,” Kate maintains an even tone, her shoulders squaring as you now openly glare at your grandmother. The wine warms your skin, shoving you closer to your wit's end.

“We could not show our faces in society for years. Not that she should care. She simply sailed away from all of us with that man,” Lady Sheffields says, your fist hitting the table with a loud bang. Reveling in how she flinches, her eyes widen at your nerve. The room stills, all eyes on you.

“That man is my father, and you do well to speak of him with reverence. You cry about appearance in society when you ignore your beautiful family in favor of acrimonious feelings toward the glue that holds the three of us together. Kate may not share our mother, but she is the very best of us. So you will not sit here and speak ill of her before me,” You practically hiss your words as you stare at your grandmother. There’s so much more that you must say that you want to say, but as always, you are never truly heard.

“Dear, we do not aim to hurt you or your half-sister. It is your mother who sailed away with that man robbing us of our two grandchildren.” Lady Sheffield ignores your comment about your father, omitting him entirely. The tenderness in her words like poison in your ears.

“Three. Your three grandchildren. I have three daughters with whom you have had every opportunity to form a connection. Like a fool, I sent one of them in hopes of you all fostering a connection only for her to return, unlike herself. But at the end of it all, the choice to shun us was yours alone,” Your mother speaks with an impressive blend of being stern and soft-spoken. “And do not think I took it lightly being cast out by the only family I had ever known. I was heartbroken, indeed. But in time, I came to see that, in your cruelty, you did us all a great service.”

“Mother, you require no explanation for these people,” You say, earning a warm smile from your mother as she looks at you.

“I have always admired your warrior spirit, my sweet girl, but this is not your fight,” Lady Mary says. You nod your head swallowing thickly as Lord Sheffield tries to dissuade you all from continuing. Your mother stares at her own, “When you cast me out, you set me free. Free to raise my daughters far from your constant judgment and craven demands that they should chase wealth and titles above all else!”

You smile to yourself. Never had you seen your mother so defiant. Never had you felt so close to her, so like her. Lady Sheffield scoffs, “You are a fine one to talk. You turn your nose up at my parenting but look at your children. The child not of this family is a spinster who muddles the very integrity and reputation of your own daughters. (Y/n) shoots and speaks with volatility unbecoming of a young lady. It’s a miracle she has the prospect of securing English nobility? It is clear Edwina will succeed, and I will always question the very foundation of how with such influences.”

Unbecoming. Unfit. Unworthy.

The words ring loudly in your ears, inhaling sharply, the table squabble no longer reaches you. Your shoulders drop as your stomach turns. Lady Sheffield rehashing the terms of yours and Edwina’s trust fund barely reaching you. You swallow the burn in your throat, struggling to blink away the water that wells in your eyes. Gaze low; the high-pitched ringing in your ears—disorienting.

“That is enough!” Anthony’s voice rips you from your own head. He looks from your grandmother to meet your teary-eyed gaze. His own only softens for a second at the sight of you before turning back to your grandparents, his expression one of frustration, “I can only think you’ve been exiled from good society because of your deficient manners rather than any other sin. Since the moment you arrived, you have failed to show the proper respect for the Sharma family and I will not stand for it.”

“I declare—“ Lord Sheffield says.

“I will not stand for it. Lady Mary has done admirably in raising her daughters. They are intelligent, kind, and loyal women. A credit to both their parents. And since you clearly do not wish to jeopardize your social standing by associating with such company, I suggest you do not. You may leave at once!” Anthony declares, staring at him. Your head spins as it did that night in Aubrey Hall. The weight of your reality harrowing as you glance at Edwina. Anthony rises from his chair. Your grandmother voices her disbelief as he walks away from the table. Standing by the door, he calls out, “Please send for Lord and Lady Sheffield’s carriage. They can wait outside. And do not trouble yourself waiting for an invitation to the wedding, for you shall not receive one.”

Your mother’s the first to apologize, but Anthony sternly announces he and his mother will be departing immediately. The tension in the air far more thick than it began. Your mother and Kate run after Edwina leaving you and Lady Danbury alone. After a few seconds, you exit the room without a further word, ignoring her knowing stare. You do not realize where your feet carry you through the corridors until you see the back of Lady Violet and Anthony.

“Lord Bridgerton, a word,” You call out, narrowing your eyes as he disregards you, “I have spent this night being insulted and humiliated. All I’m asking for is a moment of your time.”

“I owe you nothing,” Anthony huffs, looking back at you. You tilt your head, not needing to say, but you do with actual words. He pauses, sighing before telling his mother he will meet her at their home. You walk him to one of the many side rooms, your words leaving you quickly as you assure him Edwina did not know.

“It is clear she was as much in the dark as I. I am not upset with your sister. Is there something further you wish to discuss?” Anthony speaks sternly, his hands behind his back as he glowers at you.

Your eyebrows furrow, his understanding words not matching his expression. You continue cautiously, “No, uh, I just wanted to thank you for what you did back in there.”

“That is of no import. I take it there’ll be no dowry. Now that the Sheffields have withdrawn their support,” He speaks mechanically, like a cog in the machine of English nobility. You open your mouth, but no words leave you, “I’ll take your silence as confirmation. Clearly, both Miss Edwina and I have been misled, and it is best to call off this doomed engagement.”

“Oh, now you suddenly lack the desire to wed my sister,” You scoff, shaking your head, narrowing your eyes at him, “I am many things, but a fool is not one. Something is happening between us, and you’re using this lapse as an out for the mess you put us in.”

“Says the one who weaponizes her disdain for marriage as a tool against her grandparents,” He counters his accusatory tone and steps forward, doing little to faze you.

“The resentment of my grandparents and my resulting outlook on marriage is of no consequence to our dilemma. You are to wed Edwina, and I am to return to India with Kate,” You watch as his jaw clenches at the mention of India. Rolling your eyes, you huff, “Why do you insist upon casting Edwina aside?”

“You are the very source of all my strenuous relationships. I jeopardize my longest and dearest friendship due to your very presence. Your sister, Kathani, battles me daily not against my union with Miss Edwina but how I look upon you. Now you wish me to bind myself to you for all eternity, doomed to never have you in the light to which I desire. I am a gentleman. My father raised me to act with honor, but that honor thins and weakens with every interaction we share. Vanquishing you from my mind proves to be futile, as you plague my being without endless.” You move away from pacing faintly as you shake your head. His eyes stay on you, longing—pleading for a response.

“No, Lord Bridgerton. I cannot—I will not take part in this dalliance any longer. You confuse your feelings. Edwina is who you seek,” You speak barely above a whisper, your voice catching in your throat as he steps closer again. His hand on your cheek.

“Yet you are who I found. You challenge my feelings, yet you make no objection to my close proximity. You told your sister you intend to bend my nerves till they break. Miss Sharma, they have broken. Give me your love, hate, disgust. I want it all as long as it comes from you, only from you. You are infectious and come without a cure,” He whispers, his lips ghosting over your own. Shamelessly allowing him to drink you in, and as fast as the moment comes, it goes. He pulls away, walking hastily to the door, his words low, “I must take my leave.”

You let out a breath you had not been aware of holding. Your hand comes to cover your lips as your tears flow. The door opens once more, but you do not look up, uncaring of who has found you.

“Oh, Bon,” Kate says at your side. She pulls you into her arms. She knows the looks, the pauses, the warnings—Kate’s known all along.

“Didi, I fear you have been right. The Viscount and I dance around feelings I cannot explain nor reveal to Bon. I have ruined everything. I will ruin everything.” Kate shushes you softly, cradling you in her arms like an injured animal. When she finally coaxes you to walk with her to your shared room, you cannot meet Edwina’s eye inside.

“Oh, Didi,” Edwina gasps, taking your hands as she leans down, attempting to meet your gaze. You squeeze your eyes shut, taking a deep breath in as you build your courage.

“Bon, I fear you will hate me, but you must know I carried no intention to keep this from you so—” Your voice wavers as you still fail to meet her eye. Once the words are out, you cannot hide them. Not from Edwina, not from yourself.

“Didi, I could never hate you. I understand your disdain against marriage now, and once I am married to the Viscount, there will be ample funds to provide for all of us,” Her words strike you quickly. You say her name softly, but she shakes her head, “I want nothing more than to be his wife. His Viscountess. But first, he must forgive us. Do you think he will?”

Kate glances at you, your teary-eyed expression hardening. Before your sister's eyes, you bury it. You bury it so deep that not even looking in the mirror will show you signs of it. You clear your throat nodding your head, “He will. I will make certain of it, Bon.”

You lay with Edwina in her bed, rubbing her scalp as you soothe her to bed. As sleep captures her, you look at Kate. Mouthing your words, ending the previous conversation for good.

“He must marry Edwina.”

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light-yaers · 11 months

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Take Care: Chapter Five

Fic Masterpost | AO3 | Chapter List

Warnings: swearing, eventual smut, emotional themes.

Listen to the Take Care playlist!

A/N: I love a story when it gets MESSY don't you? We're officially over the 40k word mark! Huzzah!

Word count: 6.5k

Chapter Five

You considered yourself a punctual person, but this time you were late. After finishing the article, you collapsed as soon as you got home. You didn’t set an alarm for the next morning, nor did you expect to sleep for a staggering fourteen hours, but when you woke up less than an hour before the bus left Richmond for Liverpool, you almost had a heart attack.

You ran to Nelson Road with wet hair, no make-up on and so much random crap in your bag that you genuinely didn’t even know if your wallet or keys were in there somewhere. As you rushed into the stadium car park, you let out an abrupt sigh of relief to see that the bus was still there. Everyone was on board, and you’d felt your phone buzz in your pocket several times during your rush, but you hadn’t stopped to look at the messages.

Only when you stepped on board the bus and allowed yourself to breathe, did you let yourself smile and laugh at your idiocy.

“Hey!” Ted was the first to erupt in greeting, but the rest of the guys followed suit immediately after. “Did someone miss their wake-up call?” he asked.

You sighed deeply, stepping further onto the bus as the doors finally closed. “Don’t ask. All the missed sleep finally caught up with me.”

Ted nodded in understanding. “Well, you’re here now. Go cop a squat with the guys.”

You smiled as you walked down the small bus corridor. The guys all greeted you in their own ways, and you were thankful that you’d decided to join them instead of sitting out. As you approached the back, a circular group of seats that reminded you of sitting at the back of the bus at school, you caught Roy’s eye. There was a spare seat beside him, which he gestured to for you. You dropped into the seat next to him, bashing your shoulder against his softly, before the bus started moving.

“We all thought you’d bailed,” Roy said. “You didn’t reply to my texts.”

“You texted me?” you asked, quickly grabbing your phone from your pocket. There were several texts from Ted and a few missed calls, and a few from Roy. You winced. “Sorry. I’ve only been awake for forty minutes, I passed the fuck out last night and forgot to set an alarm.”

Roy hummed, almost like it was his own version of I told you so. You shot him a playfully annoyed look, and he raised his eyebrows at you in response, a small smile curled onto his stoic face. You huffed to yourself, settling in for the journey up North. Despite sleeping for so long, you were still fucking exhausted. You’d thrown clothes and toiletries into a backpack before rushing out, and you couldn’t face looking at the mess that you’d created just yet. You were glad the game wasn’t until the next day, because you still had an awful lot of sleeping to do.

As the bus lulled to a pleasant buzz, you found yourself sinking deeper into your seat. You brought your knees to your chest and curled yourself into a ball comfortably. Next to you, Roy had his earphones in and was listening to an audio book of some kind. You peered over him, gently resting your head on his shoulder for a moment, to take a look at the title.

He peered down at you softly, before he plucked one of his earphones out. “It’s The Grapes of Wrath. Wanna listen?” he asked, and you quickly pulled away to meet his eye.

You looked up at him tiredly. “That’ll definitely send me to fucking sleep.”

Roy huffed, sending you a perked brow. “I thought you were a fucking writer?”

“I am. But even I have my reservations about the classics.”

“You’ve read it before?”

You nodded. “Three times. It made me cry every time, just to warn you.”

Roy digested your words for a moment, before he offered his opposite earphone to you. You took it gently from his fingers and slotted it into your ear. “I can take it,” Roy muttered to himself, as both of you sat back in your seats and got comfortable for the ride.

After an hour, you’d dozed off heavily. Roy leaned all the way back in his chair, allowing you space to lean against his shoulder gently. As the bus bumped on the motorway, you shifted slightly, and fell into his chest. Roy peered down at you softly, letting out a gentle cough to clear his throat. He positioned himself to the right slightly, and let your head rest against his breast bone. You snoozed softly, almost silently, as he started playing the next chapter of the audio book.

Opposite him, Colin Hughes and Isaac McAdoo saw the scene unfold before them. The gentle tilt of Roy’s body to accommodate your sleepy head, the almost imperceptible smile that lay on his lips, the shallow way he was breathing to stop his chest from moving too much. The look on his face was blunt and plain like normal, but with every stare that he sent down your way, the boys saw exactly what was happening.

Colin elbowed Isaac silently, shooting a look at you and Roy. A smile upturned on Isaac’s face. Something boyish and playful that every man could recognise at one point or another. When he moved his gaze upwards, he was shocked to meet a steely stare from his Captain. Roy looked at Isaac and Colin in turn, and it was enough to make them both recoil and sink into their chairs awkwardly.

Roy cleared his throat again painfully. He acted like nothing was happening. He pretended like he didn’t want to fall asleep beside you, all the way until you reached Liverpool.

You slept like a baby that night. You hadn’t slept this much in your entire fucking life, but upon arriving you’d had about two hours of energy after your bus nap, before you had to retreat to your room and rest for the remainder of the evening. You missed out on team movie night– the guys watched Sleepless in Seattle– which was a fucking bummer, you knew, but you’d rather be alive for the game.

You were at the end of the corridor to the guys, near the rooms of the Diamond Dogs. Ted’s room was next to yours, which you knew from your abrupt awakening– you could hear his over enthusiastic Southern drawl through the thin walls on the morning of the game. He woke you up after answering a call with What’s shaking, Kevin Bacon!

You got yourself up and dressed, and joined everyone for breakfast at the hotel. It was utterly silent as everyone ate their meal. Even Roy looked more pissed off than usual as he cut into the golden yolk of a fried egg. Next to you, Ted happily sliced into another sausage. Gently, you leaned towards him. “Has someone fucking died or something?” You looked around at the glum faces of the guys. “Why does everyone look like they’ve been slapped?”

“Oh, well.” Ted started. “Richmond haven’t won an away game at Everton for six years–”

“Sixty,” Beard interrupted, correcting Ted.

Your eyes widened. “Sixty?” you whispered harshly. “Sixty fucking years?”

Ted let out a hum. “Oh, yeah. That’s my mistake. It has been sixty years since they’ve won.”

As you ate your breakfast, you understood why all the guys looked so fucking defeated already. Even on the way to the stadium they stayed the same way, silently contemplating and accepting another loss before the game had even begun. You tried to send them all reassuring smiles, but none of them matched your energy for more than a second at a time. It was fucking miserable.

You jumped off the bus when you arrived and stood with Sam and Roy before splitting up. “Good luck, Sam. Bring the heat like you know you can, alright?” you said, before you gave Sam a tight hug.

He hugged you back fiercely, as if trying to inhale all of your good vibes. “Thank you. Having you in the crowd is good luck for us, you know?” he said, before pulling away.

“What?” you let out softly, shooting him an amused look.

“It’s true! I am not a superstitious person, but about this, I am. You bring good luck.” He beamed at you, and you huffed at him in subtle embarrassment.

“Thanks, Sam,” you said, before he disappeared into the stadium with the others.

Roy milled about a bit longer, making sure all the guys got off the bus safely. You stayed put next to him the entire time, trying to think up something smart to say that would ease his nerves. You didn’t know what any of them were feeling, but that didn’t stop you from wanting to understand them better. If you could put yourself into their shoes then you’d be able to cater for them in different ways.

You peered up at Roy for a split second, ready to say some words of encouragement, but he cut you off before you could. “You sitting in the owner's box?” he asked, sending you a stoic look. You gulped back your prior words and nodded instead. Roy hummed. “See you on the other side.”

Roy left before you could say anything coherent. He strolled past the press with his mouth in a straight line, leaving you behind at the bus on your own. You watched him go until he entered the stadium, seeing the strong way he walked and the way his fingers were balled into fists. As much as you’d wanted to, not wishing Roy good luck was something he preferred. He felt the nerves, the anxiety, for himself and his teammates, and you knew that well. Wishes of good luck only ever seemed to make him madder.

You sucked in a sharp breath and entered the stadium then, readying yourself to scream for your fucking life for your team– for Richmond.

Needless to say, the atmosphere was second to none. You sat with Rebecca and Keeley in the owner’s box, on the away side, and didn’t calm down for ninety minutes. The guys played electrically, moving as a fierce unit like never before, and everytime they scored you went absolutely insane. You cheered and screamed bloody murder, jumped up and down on the spot, and didn’t give a shit what anyone thought.

In the second half, near the end, the guys were slowing down. You took it upon yourself to sing their praises to oblivion, but not even you expected to be so into it. During the final goal, Roy assisted Sam to get it into the box. When you saw him, pumping his arms to hell before he tackled one of Everton’s boys and got the ball to Sam, you held your breath until everything exploded.

During the eruption after their final, winning goal, you jumped up and leaned against the balcony edge of the owner’s box. You inhaled sharply, and realised it strongly, alongside a “Go on, Roy!”

It echoed throughout the stadium, reverberating off the walls and slanted ceiling loudly, until it hit the player’s ears. Roy was doubled over in exhaustion, but he lifted his head when he heard it. It took him no time at all to seek you out– he’d asked you where you were sitting beforehand, after all– and when his eyes hit yours, you couldn’t stop yourself from whooping and hollering in his favour.

You didn’t care if it was embarrassing, you were overly proud of them. When they bound their way back to the locker room after the full time whistle, you practically jumped to follow them. Keeley laughed beside you triumphantly, and followed behind you as fast as she could in her tall heels. You slalomed through the press all the way to the away locker room, before you burst through the door.

“You fucking thrashed them!” you screamed upon entry, and the guys matched your energy tenfold.

Sam was the first to encase you in a hug, before you were overtaken by multiple sets of limbs. Isaac lifted you off the floor when he wrapped his arms around you, and you let out a much needed pent up sigh as you stepped back afterwards. You took in their pristine faces, and you thought that, perhaps, you’d never felt more like you belonged. This all started out as a slap in the face, but with everyday that passed, you felt more and more a part of this incredible family. You felt lucky, and that was saying something, when before you’d been so unlucky to step through the doors of the Dogtrack.

You leaned against the cinder block wall for a moment, remembering the scene that played out before your very eyes. This would become a core memory in time, you decided, and you knew that when your year was up, these were the times you’d think back to. Their elated faces, their hugs of affection, their love bursting from every pore and crack and crevice that it was almost suffocating to withstand.

“You can fucking yell,” Roy said, appearing on your left suddenly from the rabble.

You breathed out. “Roy,” you greeted him softly, over the fucking moon. “Congratu-fucking-lations!”

“Sam was right,” he said, placing an abrupt but welcomed hand on your shoulder. He squeezed you affectionately. “You bring us good luck.”

You rolled your eyes at him, but nevertheless felt your cheeks warm. He raised his eyebrows at you playfully, happily. You enjoyed every moment the stoic look on his face was replaced with something different, something soft and joyful. Now was one of those times.

Suddenly, Roy hoisted himself onto one of the benches, and let out a loud “Oi! Listen up!” to his teammates. They all stopped celebrating to listen to their Captain. “None of you are going back to the hotel tonight! ‘Cause we did something today that no one thought we could do, including us! So we’re going out, we’re celebrating, and we’re gonna rub it in this city’s fucking face!”

The locker room erupted once more, and before you could peer up at Roy, you were pulled into the mob of players as they started to chant– Richmond till we die! We’re Richmond till we die! We know we are, we’re sure we are, we’re Richmond till we die!

Keeley let you get ready in hers and Rebecca’s suite. It was huge, and kitted out with lavish decor and a fully stocked mini-bar. Keeley applied her lipliner in the bathroom, while you sat on one of the plush sofas and sipped from a glass of champagne. You felt content, you felt known. It had taken you half the fucking season, but you finally felt happy where you were.

Despite the familiarity of going out with the team, you felt that today was different. Not just from the way the guys all loved you, but from the increasing tension that buzzed between you and Roy that you simply couldn’t ignore anymore. You wanted to tell him about the article tonight, wanted him to read it before you did anything rash, but there was a part of you that didn’t want him to think that was all you liked him for– your career, your assignments, your degree. Roy Kent was fast becoming someone that you simply enjoyed being around, more than anything. You didn’t want him to think of himself as less.

“Babes?” Keeley called from the bathroom.

You breathed in and left your jagged thoughts. “Hm?” you replied.

Keeley shot her head around the frame of the bathroom door, lipstick finally applied. She took one glance at your back, slumped and in thought, and furrowed her brows. “You okay?” she asked, and you twisted yourself around to face her.

You sent her a genuine smile. “Never been better,” you said, and you found yourself believing it.

Keeley rushed towards you and jumped on the sofa. She picked up her glass of champagne and made a show of hovering it before yours. “Shall we toast?” she asked.

You raised your glass next to hers. “Always, but to what? The team?”

“No,” she said. “To you, and your article.”

You scoffed. “Oh, please.”

“I’m being serious!” she exclaimed. “Only you could make Roy sound so… human. It was emotional, strategic, but above all– you made me care about Roy Kent as more than a footballer. You should be fucking proud.”

You felt bashful, but nevertheless smiled at her compliments. “Thanks, Keeley,” you said gently.

She raised her glass higher. “To you becoming a writer, any fucking day now,” she said.

You chuckled lightly, and clinked your glass with hers, before both of you downed the contents. Bubbles fizzed up your noses, almost being spat out as you spluttered with laughter, but the two of you held it together. It was a matter of time before things got crazy, and you knew you wouldn’t be prepared. As you left the suite with Keeley, a bag across your body and spring in your step, you told yourself to enjoy it– at least while it lasted, before all of this ended in a matter of months.

Thanks to Keeley brainwashing everyone, karaoke was definitely on the cards. The guys booked a private room for the whole team, and upon arrival you were all coerced into requesting songs for one another. You sat on the sofa with Keeley, chatting away with Rebecca and her friend Flo, aka Sassy. The guys were ecstatic, and you were happy to be part of it all. Even Roy had a permanent smile fixed on his face, next to a beer in his hand at all times.

As the songs went on, you found yourself enjoying yourself more. You all settled into it, enjoying one another's company, joking around as the guys queued songs to embarrass someone, but you’d be lying if you hadn’t been overly aware of Roy’s presence all night. He never went out with the guys in London, never joined in for post-match pints or a night on the town, and you’d been waiting for a moment like this with him. Yet, you couldn’t move from where you were. You stayed back and let him be, all the while wondering if he was ever going to approach you himself. It was childish, and made you feel even more so like a schoolgirl who was crushing hard, but the thing you were worrying about the most was the bomb you were going to drop on him– you’d finished the article, and you wanted him to read it before you submitted it anywhere. That was the goal.

After Bumbercatch had performed Sex on Fire, you went back to chatting with Keeley, but that was promptly interrupted by an abrupt “Oi!” from yours truly. You twisted yourself on the sofa to meet his gaze above. Roy peered down at you, empty beer glass in hand, and a small smile on his tipsy face. “Need a refill?” he asked, and you smiled immediately.

“Yes, please,” you said, as you stood up and followed him to the bar. You slalomed through other people enjoying their night out, until you both ended up at the main bar. The music was loud, and the place was packed, but you felt at ease next to Roy. “I’ll get these!” you yelled over the noise, but if Roy heard you at all then he chose to ignore it.

He ordered two more pints and tapped his card against the machine without hesitation. You pouted as you zipped up your bag again, looking at him sternly as he passed you your pint. “One of these days you have to let me buy you a drink, Roy.”

He shrugged. “I don’t fucking mind. Not when it’s you.”

You looked at him quizzically. “Why?”

“Because you don’t expect it. Everyone else does when you’re a footballer. They expect the drinks and food and the fucking bill sorted, but you never have,” he explained.

You scoffed. “Yeah, because my mother raised me with manners.”

“Good woman,” he said, before he clinked his full glass against yours. All you could do was laugh, as the two of you took generous sips of your drinks together.

You took a moment to glance around the main room of the club. It was bustling to the brim. People danced and drank joyously, and a few managed to scramble onto a small stage and use the pole that was there. You hadn’t been out to a club like this in a long time, and it made you even happier to think about the people you were with. A stellar team, a kind group of guys. You couldn’t believe how much you’d lucked out with them all.

Roy gently leaned to your ear, his beard skimming your cheek softly. “Need some air?” he asked, and as much as you wanted to say yes, you knew you had a song queued in the karaoke room.

You leaned into his ear in return, savouring being close to him like this, even if it was brief. “Keeley queued a karaoke song for me!” you said, and the mischievous face that Roy sent you was one that you added to his expression bank in your mind.

“Come on, then!” he yelled over the noise, before he offered you his arm.

You took it as the two of you made your way back to the private room, but within the space of five minutes, the rest of the club was on the brink of bursting. As Roy took no prisoners and shoved people out of his way, you dealt with the opposite. You tried to stay glued to him, but it proved useless when you tried to cross a packed pathway. As Roy pushed himself forward, you were caught in the crossfire and pushed away. Your arm twisted out of his own, and you stumbled backwards abruptly. Your beer sloshed in its glass, and trickled down your fingers as you tried to compose yourself. You couldn’t see Roy anymore, just the bobbing heads of other club goers.

“Oi!” Roy boomed from further in the club. It was then that the crowd parted, like Moses with the fucking Red Sea, and he stomped his way towards you sternly. When he reached you, he peered down at you strongly, before he snaked his hand around your waist for a moment. “You go first,” he said into your ear, and you walked forward with him right behind. His fingers gently bobbed upon your lower back, always near, just letting you know that he was close.

“Are you Roy fucking Kent?” one of the club goers yelled out, and Roy abruptly turned to the person in question. He looked no older than a university student, and had a very distinct Scouse accent.

“Yeah. What of it?” Roy replied, and the kid before him all but backed down.

“N-nothing,” the kid stuttered out. “Nice playing today.”

The crowd around the kid erupted suddenly, questioning his loyalty to their local team. You didn’t stick around, though, as Roy gently pushed you forward and towards the karaoke room once more. When the crowd died down more, he moved himself to your side, but kept his fingers on your back, just grazing there, in case he needed to step in again.

An attendee pulled open the curtain to the private room for you both, and you finally let out a sigh of relief. “Jesus fucking Christ, thanks for that,” you let out, and Roy nodded at you.

“I have no patience for little fuckers that get in the way,” he said.

You scoffed, and took a sip of your beer. “It’s a wonder why you have so much patience for me, then.”

Roy furrowed his brows at you, amused. “Don’t fucking push it,” he joked.

You shot him a beaming smile, one that had your cheeks hurting as soon as it encased your face. At the front of the room, Keeley snatched the microphone from the previous performer. She tapped it once, alerting everyone to the stage. “Hey!” she spoke through it, her voice booming through the room. You and Roy turned to her immediately, and she caught your eye. She smiled. “Come on! You’re up!”

“Oh, fuck,” you muttered under your breath, and took a few large gulps of beer before you headed to the stage. Roy gently grabbed your drink before you could leave, and propped them both down on a table as the guys went crazy.

They cheered and screamed as Keeley passed you the microphone, and you tried to keep it together. You’d done karaoke before, just not when you were this sober and coherent. You didn’t even know what song you were fucking singing, until the large TV for lyrics flashed the title– Womanizer by Britney Spears.

As the song started, Roy watched on from the crowd. Over his dead body would anyone sign him up for something like this, but seeing you fumble through the initial nerves was endearing to witness. Keeley, Rebecca and Sassy egged you on to oblivion, alongside the chants from Ted and Beard, as well as the members of your fan club– Sam, Colin and Isaac to be exact. It was impossible not to smile as you performed, getting more confident as the song went on.

Roy crossed his legs where he sat, right opposite the stage, as you towered above the rest of the team. Tonight was a good night. He was surrounded by his teammates, his bosses, you, after a win that no one had been expecting. The only thing that could possibly make it better was the opportunity to talk more with you, in a different setting, socially. There was no doubt in Roy’s mind that you were the life and soul of any party, especially from the upbeat way you sang and laughed at yourself on stage. When he thought about it, about you, he often found it hard to find anything to criticise. He couldn’t even rightfully say that you were pushy anymore, not after he’d jumped at the idea of your article before.

It was then that he realised, while watching you fail to hit high notes from laughing too hard– Roy couldn’t fucking say no to you. Even when he wanted to, even when he needed to, probably, he couldn’t fucking do it.

When the song finished, you thanked your lucky stars that it was fucking over. You breathed heavily as applause broke out everywhere, and when you jumped off the stage you found that your legs had turned to jelly. You stumbled as you made your way back through the crowds, and dropped yourself down next to Roy as if you’d been close to collapsing.

He huffed as he handed you your beer, and you downed half the glass as fast as you could. When you finished, you met Roy’s overly amused face. “How did I do?” you breathed out.

“Well, no one’s ears are bleeding. I call that a win,” he replied.

You scoffed, embarrassed, but nevertheless embraced your shit performance. “Fan-fucking-tastic,” you let out, and Roy chuckled beside you warmly. You leaned back on the sofa only to realise that Roy’s arm was draped behind you. Neither of you moved. You were comfortable this way.

As Beard got up to perform Lady Gaga, Roy leaned closer to you. You could smell his cologne when he did, as you gently leaned forward to let him find your ear. “Need some air now?” he asked, and you smiled to yourself, before you gently nodded at him in agreement.

The two of you shuffled out of the room again, and headed to the smoking area out the front, missing the crowd of drunk people inside. As he emerged into the cold outside, Roy gently looked back for you. You caught his eye with a smile, before the two of you found a secluded area to perch upon outside. You both sipped at your drinks in silence, thankful for the space and quiet for once. As much as you were enjoying yourself, you’d been dying to get out for some breathing room.

You sighed, content. Roy copied you, as your white breath surrounded one another before disappearing into thin air. “I can’t believe we fucking won,” Roy said first, and you turned to him gently.

“You all played amazingly,” you added, and Roy peered down at you softly. “Seriously, and I obviously know what I’m talking about.”

Roy raised his brows at you. “What’s the offside rule?” he asked.

You waved him off playfully. “Don’t go making new rules up, that’s just not fair,” you said sarcastically, and when a small chuckle burst from Roy’s lips you felt validated. You felt it whenever someone laughed at your jokes, but with Roy it felt extra special.

Roy shuffled on his spot, and his shoulder gently bumped into yours. You were struggling to balance the nerves in your gut, made even worse by the fact he was so close to you. There was that feeling, one that told you, if you lingered on each other for just a second too long, that you would wind up kissing. You sucked in a sharp breath, before you swilled your beer around in its glass, just to do something with all your pent up anxiety.

Innately, you knew that now was as good a time as any to bring up the article. You’d have to do it sooner or later, or risk not submitting it at all. You thought back to Rebecca’s words, about how she’d been too quick to assume that Roy wouldn’t give a shit, but you still wanted to try. If he was indifferent, it was still OK to actually submit it, surely?

You cleared your throat gently. “I finished the article,” you said, and Roy’s face hardened slightly, but he was still listening. “I know that you hate this kind of thing.”

Roy growled, but when you turned and caught his eye, you knew it wasn’t a full blown pissed off growl. It was more like a growl in agreement. You smiled at him, genuinely, flicking your eyes over the features of his face softly. “Yeah, I do,” he said abruptly. Your smile disappeared slowly. “But, if it helps you do something great, that’s a good fucking thing.” When he peered down at you, you felt immediately at ease.

You huffed affectionately. “Really?” you asked, just to double check. This was what he did– made you feel special, made you feel heard. “That’s great, Roy, really.” You sighed in relief. “I was so nervous you wouldn’t like it at all, and when you get around to reading it I can make changes to anything you really don’t like–”

You were cut off by Roy laughing suddenly. It wasn’t a sound you’d heard often, but nevertheless it was something you welcomed. What he was laughing about, however, had you confused.

“What?” you asked, smiling.

Roy took a sip of beer before he met your gaze. “I’m not gonna fucking read it.”

Your heart dropped into your gut suddenly. “What?” you let out again, as butterflies tore their way through your internal organs.

Roy breathed out. “I was never going to fucking read it. But, I did the interview and everything you wanted, right? That’s enough, isn’t it?”

You struggled to compute his words, and instead let out a chuckle instead of coherent words. You placed your glass down and took a few stumbling steps away from him, trying to figure out why the fuck he let you interview him, write about him, all of it, if he was never going to fucking read it in the end. This wasn’t how you rolled. You didn’t want people to do things like this for you if they didn’t want to, and Roy definitely fit in that box– even more so. The last thing you wanted to do was piss him off.

“I– I’m just confused with this,” you said, trying not to lace too much annoyance within your words. “Why would you agree to this, if you were never going to read it when I was done?” Roy shrugged, but the pained look on his face revealed that there was more there. You stepped forward. “Why, Roy?”

“Because! I– fucking hell,” he exclaimed. He put down his drink as he found his words, and let out a sigh before he spoke. There was an exposed look on his face, one that you recognised as when someone was about to admit to something. “I struggle… saying no to you.”

Your blood boiled. It was a miracle you didn’t erupt on the spot, but you were too busy trying to stop your legs from turning to jelly, and your fingers, and your limbs. You peered up at Roy with wide eyes and the strangest urge to fucking bury yourself beneath the ground you stood on. If there was one thing you never wanted to be, it was an annoyance. Yet, with those six words, Roy had just admitted to how he’d never wanted to do the article in the fucking first place, but placed himself in that situation from not being able to deny you.

It made you feel stupid. It made you feel mortified. How had you not noticed that he’d been utterly against it from the start?

“Oh my god,” you muttered, gobsmacked. “I’m an idiot.” Roy reached out for your arm, but you abruptly slalomed out of the way. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“How is that a bad thing? It meant you could still fucking write it, right?” Roy said, but he didn’t get it. He didn’t get how it felt when you realised you were nothing more than a blight on someone who didn’t actually give a shit. Someone stuck to his side, following him around, asking for things that he didn’t deny, just to appease you.

“How is that a bad thing?” you repeated him, raising your voice. “You never wanted to fucking do this in the first place, Roy, but you made me think that it was okay! Oh my god.” You smacked your hand over your mouth abruptly. “I stayed at your house for six fucking hours!”

You felt embarrassed. You felt like a nagging, boring uni student.

“I don’t see why this is such a fucking issue,” Roy said, matching your anger.

“I never wanted to put you in an uncomfortable position, I wanted to write something good-”

“You did all that, so why do you need me to fucking read it?”

“Because I wrote it for you, Roy!” you exclaimed, and Roy’s mouth shut instantly. “I wrote this for you. I wanted to write something about you that you’d actually like reading.” You frowned at him, your eyes glassy. You weren’t expecting this to blow up in this, nor were you expecting Roy to completely ignore what you’d actually written.

You desperately wished he’d read it and told you he hated it, instead of this outcome.

You remembered what it had been like before. His attempts to avoid you, so that you wouldn’t bug him. His easiness at telling you to leave him the fuck alone. His aversion to being around you. All of this could have been fixed if he’d set up boundaries with you– boundaires to back the fuck off, ones that you would always uphold if you knew they’d been in place.

“I don’t think anyone will be able to write something about me that I actually like,” Roy let out, and it only made your heart sink more. “That’s not on you. That’s on me.” He took a step towards you, but you only backed up when he did.

“I won’t submit it,” you said suddenly.

Roy furrowed his brows. “Why the fuck not?”

“I was never going to submit it without getting your approval first, Roy,” you said lowly.

“I fucking approve!” he let out.

You were shaking your head before he was even done talking. “I’ve made up my mind,” you said, before you forced yourself to look at him. You felt tearful, you felt childish, but most of all– you felt embarrassed of yourself. “I’m so sorry I roped you into this to begin with.”

“Hey,” he said strongly, and finally reached out to grab your forearm. “This isn’t a big deal.” You inhaled sharply when he got in close, trying and failing to make you believe anything different. He’d said how he felt so clearly that nothing was going to make you change your mind, and all you wanted to do now was give him space.

“I beat myself up about asking you to do this,” you started. “I spoke to Keeley about it and everything, and she reassured me that it would be okay, that you’d say no if it was something you didn’t want to do. For fucks sake, Roy– this is a big deal,” you pleaded with him. “I stayed up all night to write it, I pored over old news stories about you, I fucking worked hard to make this something you’d like, was so excited about it, just for you to tell me you’d never planned on reading it from the beginning. Do you understand why I’m upset now?”

Roy’s expression softened. He hadn’t thought about it that way, hadn’t thought about the impact it would have on you when he spilled his true intentions.

“If you’d told me the truth from the start then it would have saved all of this from happening,” you added, and you gently tugged your arm out of his grasp.

You sniffed, and let out an abrupt laugh from a lack of what else to fucking say. You felt gutted, worse than you’d feel if he’d read it and laughed about it being shit– that you could have taken on board and worked with, but this was a different ball park altogether. This was Roy not respecting his own boundaries to try and make you happy, only to have all your work, time and effort mean nothing at the end of the day. It felt like a slap in the face.

You rationalised your feelings then, as quick as you could. You couldn’t deny the hurt you felt at Roy’s blatant dismissal of your work, but you also understood that he didn’t have any intention to hurt you. With that in mind, you turned back to him and softened your expression. You tried not to show how upset you were, you didn’t want to make him feel any fucking worse.

“Next time, just let me know if you don’t want to do something, okay?” you said, but the wobble in your voice was noticeable. It hit Roy in the chest harshly, and he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

You shuffled back to where your glass was and picked it up. You downed the rest of your beer, ignoring the painful bubbles in your chest, before you looked back at Roy and forced yourself to smile. “I need a refill. I’ll head back inside,” you said, and you didn’t give Roy a chance to respond before you entered, through the main door, back into the club.

CHAPTER SIX

Tag list: @atjamesbbarnes @20th-centu-fairy-girl@royalestrellas@weakmoony-stuff @ironmanmagnetfridge @lemonpiegurll @hellomagicalsouls @her-fandom-sanctum @gothicwidowsworld @old-enough-to-know-better73 @djarindroid @afraidofshrimp @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog @queen-of-dumbasses @sogoodtoheritsvicious @lznnph1l @crav1ngc4ke @onceuponaoneshot @jamieolivia27 @dadbodfanatic-x @kelp-dreaming @harrypedro465 @lonely-escape-artist @abeeabeeabee @nicklet94 @libsybum @cha0sdreaming @toomany24s @kashee-h @infinetlyforgotten @secretnook @cluelesslilsharkie @callmecasey81 @deepdarkvelvet @twiceinabluemoon

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year

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orchid

a/n: thought about splitting this one up into multiple parts, but no, you're just getting one big fic. yet again, just a daydream I had that I scribbled down, just vibes, nothing fancy. also the tiny apartment she lives in, that's just where I lived a year ago. like a ghost in the attic (also also also, I almost exclusively worked on this in the middle of the night, so if it’s not up to par with the rest of my works, I do sincerely apologise)

update: i will not write a part 2 for this story so please stop asking me! you are giving me a stomach ache

summary: “Alright, so even though I’m not, why is it that it would be such a bad thing if I theoretically had a thing for him?”

warnings: Sirius Black x reader, modern!au, college!au, starving artist!reader, posh boy Sirius, very light enemies to lovers energy, probably extremely inaccurate country club, reader works at the country club, playing 20 questions, kissing, sexual comments and references but no actual smut in this one, alcohol consumption, a little bit of light B & E as a cute date, small tolkien reference, open ending (kinda)

word count: 6023

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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“All right, listen up folks,” bellowed the short snappy figure of your boss, “it’s gonna get a lot busier starting today since a lot of the member's kids are coming home on break from boarding school and university and whatnot, so that means not only will there be more people to keep happy but also a lot of stressed-out parents who await the luxury that they are paying for. I expect you all to be on you’re A-game, is that clear?”

“Yes, Mr Barrett,” echoed throughout the room like a choir.

“Good. Now get back to work everyone!”

Just as the herd started to thin, Mr Barrett waved you over before you had a chance to slip out, “Y/l/n!”

Watching your work friends duck out before he could call upon them as well, you gave in to the newly formed reflex and said, “yes sir?”

Not lifting his eyes as you stepped closer, he kept them glued to the clipboard in his hand and ordered, “go restock all the bars.”

“Um, why? Didn’t Tim just do it last Monday?”

“He did,” Mr Barrett finally glance up at you and explained sternly, clearly already being over this conversation, “and now I’m telling you to go do it again. Look, these folks' kids are coming home. So, trust me when I tell you that it needs to be fully stocked.”

“Alright,” you exhaled and scurried out at the irked wave of his hand.

You hadn’t been working here at the Millington club for that long, but even when you consider the fact that you had to mosey up to a bunch of insufferable rich folk, the paycheck was still a lot better than any other place you’d ever worked at, consequently making it tolerable.

Now balancing a heavy cardboard box jam-packed with various clanking liquor bottles, you made your way through the glamorous halls of the club, first making your way down towards the east side lounge. Glancing down at the clinking flasks, you couldn’t even begin to calculate how many months of rent you would have to give for even just one of these lavish drinks.

As you entered the posh sitting room and made your way over towards the bar, a collection of rowdy voices caught your ear.

“No way, I don’t believe it.”

“No, I’m telling you, mate,” you sat the box down on the marble countertop and glanced over to spot the young raven-haired man answering his friends, “it’s true, right there in the library.”

“What genre was it in?” one of the two young men asked. They were all three spread out on a few small queen Anne couches, clustered in the corner, as if they owned the whole establishment, “biography? That corner’s pretty private…”

“Um, I was a little too preoccupied to notice,” the cocky boy scoffed, “you know, with my head being all the way under her skirt and all.”

Kicking his feet up onto the mahogany coffee table in the middle, the bespeckled one in the group chuckled, “only you mister I lost my virginity in a threesome could just casually have that happen to him on a Tuesday afternoon.”

“Who was it with anyway?” the other one asked.

Furrowing his brows, the man in the centre of the story genuinely didn’t seem to remember, “I think her name was Emma? Something like that.”

“Didn't your mother tell you it’s creepy to stare?” you flinched at the sudden and sneaky arrival of your co-worker’s familiar voice, uttering directly into your ear.

“Jesus fuck, Lucy! Don’t scare a girl like that! I could have dropped one of these,” you held up the expensive bottles in hand, then swiftly went back to putting them away.

“Please don’t tell me you have a thing for him,” she ignored your annoyance, crossing her arms.

“What?” was she referring to the brash handsome man you couldn’t rip your eyes away from just a second ago? “No! I don’t even know who he is.”

“Wait, you don’t know who that is?

“No.”

“Seriously?”

“Nope.”

“That’s Sirius Black,” she told you as if the name alone was common knowledge, but then continued as the lightbulb over your head clearly didn’t turn on, “Orion Black’s oldest son?” still nothing, she tried one last time, “as in the Black automobile company? That super old posh one?”

“…the one that the royal family drives around in?”

“Ding, ding, ding!” she threw up her arms and continued to look at you as if you were an idiot.

“Alright, so even though I’m not, why is it that it would be such a bad thing if I theoretically had a thing for him?”

“Because that man right there, gorgeous as he might be, is the biggest playboy on the planet. He doesn’t even know what the definition of a relationship is, let alone love. Y/n, I know you. You, my wonderful friend, is a relationship type of girl, not a casual sleep-around like it’s nothing type of girl. So, trust me when I say, don’t go there.”

“I wasn’t gonna!” you said defensively as she finally turned around and left you to your work.

Bending down to open up a small cabinet, you kneeled on the polished hardwood floor and scurried to finish your work of restocking the bar.

“Hey love,” you heard after only a minute had passed. Glancing up, you saw the very same man you had been so fixated upon earlier, casually leaning his forearm against the counter. He looked like he could have just stepped out of a ralph lauren ad with how impeccable his clothes were.

Shooting up, nearly bumping your head on the way, you felt your heartbeat pick up as his dark eyes bored into you, “hi! Can I help you with anything?”

“Me and my mates over there were just about to go do something a little more fun than what this snooze fest has to offer,” he gesticulated, then added rather smoothly, “you look like you could use some fun, you should join us.”

“Sir, I can’t just leave,” you cocked your head, “I’m in the middle of my shift.”

“So, when do you get off?” he asked, but then as you simply averted your gaze, scrambling for a polite way to untangle yourself from this mess, he pushed, “oh, come on, I know you want to.”

Keeping your eyes low, you shook your head, “I’m not really supposed to socialise with members.”

“Ah,” he leaned in a little closer, lowering himself to your eye level, “you’re a real good girl, aren’t you?”

Eyes growing wide at his suggestive word choice, you blushed, “e-excuse me, sir?”

“I noticed the way you were looking at me,” his studying gaze didn’t waver for a second.

“Oh, that wasn’t-“

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell if you won’t.” He then leaned in even closer, “hey,” nearly whispering into your ear and effectively sending shivers down your spine, “if it fits your schedule better, we could just go into the billiard room right now…”

“Why would we-“

“My friends can stand by the door if you’re nervous,” he interrupted once more, reaching up to push a lock of your hair behind your ear, “no one will bother us, promise.”

Completely stunned by his bold proposal, it took you a few seconds to decline, “sir. I-… I’m gonna go back to work now…” then slowly picked up the now empty cardboard box and exited the room, leaving Sirius alone to pick up the pieces.

“She’s new… I want her.”

That was all Sirius had uttered to his friends before making his way over to hit on the new girl, occupied restocking the bar.

Now standing there, alone and blinking hard, not understanding why his usual charm hadn’t worked on you, he heard his friends come up behind him.

“How did it go? You meeting her in the bathroom or what?”

“She turned me down…” he was still frozen, staring out the door you’d disappeared through, with a stunned smile on his lips and a determent glint in his eyes. His words didn’t sound unhappy, simply surprised and even a little amused.

“That’s nice, good for your health to be turned down by a pretty face such as hers. Also means you are in fact human after all,” Remus pulled out his box of cigarettes and swiftly tugged one into the corner of his lips to lite it, “so, that’s nice to know…” noticing the look in Sirius’s eye, “come on,” he wrapped an arm around his neck, “we’ll just go out tonight. Get you nice and pussy drunk. That’ll make you forget her in no time, promise.”

“Funny seeing you here,” you didn’t even bother to look up as the slightly familiar voice found your ears.

“Yeah,” you kept your eyes on the list in your hand just a little longer, “it’s almost like I work here or something.”

Finally glancing up, you met the intoxicatingly dark eyes of none other than Sirius Black, “you’re funny…”

“So,” you started moving along, not letting his bugging hold you back from executing your work, “is there anything I can do for you, sir?”

His long legs made it a piece of cake for him to follow along with you, “go out with me.”

Stopping your stride, you sighed, “Mr Black-”

“Please, call me Sirius,” he interrupted you with all the charm in the world.

“Mr Black, excuse me for being blunt but when will you get the hint?”

“Y/n, hey!”

This dude really doesn’t quit.

“You know my name now,” you couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling even if you wanted to.

“Yeah, well I asked around a bit about you. That was just one of the many tantalising facts I learned about you,” he winked, and you tried your best to ignore the butterflies that cheap trick had successfully sent fluttering throughout your stomach.

Moving to leave the room, he swiftly blocked the door, making you see nothing but his annoying smirk, “seriously dude, what will it take for you to just leave me alone?”

“Go out with me,” he shrugged lightly and crossed his arms.

“No.”

“Why not?”

Feeling like you might explode if he didn’t get out of the way, you exclaimed, “because I’m not I’m not gonna sleep with you!” your eyes grew a bit wider at the proclamation you’d let slip out.

“Oh really?” he simply smiled, clearly just taking it as another challenge.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you hoped that the conversation would get less uncomfortable if you couldn’t see his jaw-dropping visage anymore, “yeah, I’ve heard what people say about you.”

Completely loving it, he clearly took that as a good thing, “really?”

“Yeah, well it’s like a fucking ghost story around here, so I didn’t have much of a choice. You’re just that kind of guy and that’s fine! But you just need to know, all that charm, it won’t work on me, so you might as well just turn around now. I am not just gonna be another notch in your belt, another hot new little thing for you to pass the time with, okay?”

Eyes still shut, you thought for a second he had left with how long he took to answer you, “okay, fine.”

“Fine?” you finally blinked your eyes open.

“Fine,” he smiled, “I won’t sleep with you.”

“Great!” you threw up your arms and moved to exit the room, though he stepped in front of you again, leaning down to be at your height.

“I mean, it’s probably gonna be really hard for you to resist after the date I’ve got planned out, but sure, if you don’t want to.”

Gnawing the corner of your bottom lip for but a moment, you gave out, “if I say yes to go on a date with you, one date, will you leave me alone?”

Face only inches from your own, his smile grew wider as he agreed, “deal.”

“Mr Black! Welcome back, sir,” not only the security guard but also an older gentleman in a crisp suit had greeted you both at the entrance of the unusually vacated museum, “enjoy your evening.”

“Thank you, Henderson,” Sirius politely shook his hand before planting it on the small of your back, guiding you further inside.

Glaring up at him as if he was an alien, he finally questioned your gaze, “what?”

“What are we doing in here?” you spoke in a near whisper, “the museum closed like 2 hours ago.”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, climbing the big stone steps that lead up towards the first exhibit, “my family’s a big donator to this place, so I just pulled a few strings.”

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you simply followed him into the first breathtaking room and breathed out, “okay…”

Even if the company was somewhat challenging, you couldn’t deny how the beauty hung up all around you made the evening at least tolerable. Your little art heart was too weak not to swoon at the sight of all the impressionistic pieces that were on display in this season's unique exhibit. Iconic pieces you could have only dreamed about studying this close.

After a surprisingly long while where Sirius miraculously shut up and simply let you roam and relish in the paintings, you took a deep breath and decided to actually make the smallest of efforts to test if your companion did in fact have any more depth than a teaspoon.

“So,” you started as he settled in beside you, his dark eyes washing over the landscape in front of you, “you’re home from uni for a bit?”

“Yep,” he buried his hands in the pockets of his black trousers, “oxford.”

You felt so strong for not just bolting in the opposite direction. “You’re an oxford man?” you scoffed, “should have figured…”

“Like my father was and his father before him,” he added rather coldly, sounding like this was a rehearsed reply that pained him to recite.

“What do you study?”

“Business,” he kept his answer short.

“Oh yeah?” you glanced over, trying to break through and see if his outsides matched his insides, “is it fun?”

Brows furrowing, he turned to meet your gaze, “what does that have to do with it?”

“You don’t enjoy your major?”

“It’s just,” he inhaled deeply, uncomfortably trying to end this specific chat, “school, you know?”

“No, I actually don’t,” you informed him, slowly moving towards the next painting.

“No?” he followed.

“I don’t go to school,” you informed.

“You don’t?”

“No.”

“Oh, okay…” he averted his gaze, but still felt the need to explain his confusion, “I knew you liked art, so I just kinda assumed that you went to school for that or something…”

“Why bother paying a ridiculous amount of money in order to learn about something that I’m already really good at? No one is gonna deny me the right to create art just because I don’t have some fancy degree in it. If it’s a masterpiece, then it’s a masterpiece.”

“Yeah, I guess so…” you could tell how foreign your words were to him, “so that’s what you do for a living? You paint?”

“It doesn’t pay the bills, but that’s not really the point now is it?” you reflected with a small smile, “just because it’s what I do doesn’t mean I earn a large profit from it, if any at all.”

For a moment, he just went quiet, staring at the many paintings with a slightly glossed-over look in his eyes. You were trying to catch his glances, read what it was that was going on inside that head of his, but your timid attempt at finding a new topic to blossom suddenly became the most effortless task in the world the second that he casually rolled his sleeves all the way up to his elbows.

“Wait, you have tattoos?” tumbled out of you as soon as you spotted the ink.

“Yeah,” he gave a small shrug.

“How did I not know that?” you asked, sounding genuinely interested.

“Guess my pretty face was just a bit too distracting for you to notice,” he winked, regaining a bit of his usual confidence, “do you have any?”

“Yeah, a few. Though they’re just some stick-and-poke ones one of my friends gave me.”

“Aw, my first tattoo was a stick-and-poke one! I was 15 and it was at boarding school in the bathroom,” he remembered fondly.

“Oh yeah? Your parents must have loved that,” you chuckled.

“Oh, they don’t know.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, well, clothing can hide a lot and they only really see me a handful of days out of the year anyways, so… what they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

Maybe he wasn’t so terrible after all… After finding a sliver of common ground, the rest of the conversation just flowed after that, making the remainder of the evening not just tolerable, but even enjoyable.

Nearing the end of the tour, you felt his shoulder lightly bump yours, “you like it?” ripping you out of the trance the art piece in front of you had induced.

“I mean, it’s a Monet,” you gestured towards it, finding his question a bit silly, “I think it’s physically impossible not to like it.”

“Darling, I wasn’t talking about the painting,” he clarified, smiling warmly down at you.

“Oh,” you looked up at him and couldn’t help but be blatantly honest, even if it meant that you had been wrong, “yeah, I guess it wasn’t half bad…” then cast your vision back on the painted pond and added as casually as you could muster, “but we are so not doing anything like this next time.”

“Next time?”

“I swear to god,” you sighed, shutting your eyes, “if you don’t shut up in less than two seconds, I won’t hesitate to change my mind. You were just starting to grow on me.”

“Yes, ma’am, wouldn’t dream of it, I’m just standing here, looking at the art,” you heard him smile and peeped your eyes open to find him boldly still staring at you.

“You sure we’re allowed to be up here?” Sirius asked, following you up the last bit of the clinking metal staircase in the seemingly abandoned factory you’d without context dragged him into.

“Oh, don’t tell me that you're scared,” you playfully glanced over your shoulder at him, “doesn’t your daddy’s lawyer always bail you out of all the shady fun you and your friends get into?”

“Who exactly do you think we are?” he scoffed lightly, though didn’t deny your claim.

“So, you’ve never committed a petty crime before? A party animal like you?”

“I have never done anything wrong in my entire life,” he shot back sarcastically.

“Right you haven’t,” you chuckled, trying without success to bust open the rusty door, putting all your weight into it, “give me a hand, would you?” you requested breathlessly, his frame quickly following your command, stepping right up beside you, readying his shoulder and waiting for your go, “okay, one, two, three!” you both gave it a big shove, making it fly open and reveal not only the factory’s small, flat rooftop but also the most breathtaking view of the city’s skyline and the rabidly disappearing sun.

Seemingly not impressed by the dingy surroundings, Sirius grumbled, “now do I get to know what we are doing tonight?”

“No sense of adventure…” you sighed teasingly, “I’m not telling you, you’ll have to find out yourself,” you sauntered over towards the small ledge by the section of the roof that sunk down a bit and had a bunch of vents and things. Taking a seat, you gestured to the cold concrete beside you and said, “now, sit.”

“You want me to sit?” he eyed the dirty surface mistrustingly.

“Yeah,” you smiled, patting the spot with your fingers, “come on, you can sit on my jacket if you’re such a wuss.”

“Oh my god, fine, I’ll sit down,” he moved towards you, “just keep your jacket. Don’t want you to freeze to death.”

“You don’t? That’s reassuring to know,” you jested as he carefully took a seat beside you, dangling his long legs over the edge.

“So… this is your big plan?” he asked, completely unimpressed, “sit on a filthy rooftop together?”

“Don’t mock when you don’t even know what it is yet,” you raised a defensive hand and then proposed confidently, “now, ask me a question.”

Furrowing his dark brows, he bit his lip in order not to stifle a laugh, “a question?”

“Yeah, you’ve got 20, so use them wisely,” you explained the childish game.

“Oh my god…” he groaned as he caught on, although still played along, “okay, is it a thing?”

“Yes.”

His pristine hair blew in the wind as his eyes scanned the city below for clues, “is it big?”

“No.”

“Am I physically close to it?”

“Yes.”

“Can I see it?”

“No.”

“Okay, so it’s small and close by, but I can’t see it…” he recited underneath his breath, “is it, fuck, I don’t know,” he grumbled, both completely over the game yet also way too invested to just quit immediately, “your phone in your pocket?”

“Good one, but no!”

“Fuck, I don’t know! Am I even close?”

“You are closer than you might think.”

“Can I just get a little bit more of a hint?” he pouted in your direction.

“Fine, it is within a meter of you.”

Head whipping around confused, “um, that’s literally just you. Is it you? Are you really calling yourself a thing right now?”

“No!” you snapped, slightly offended that he’d even think that, “just use your imagination for fuck sake. Don’t they teach you that at boarding school and fancy universities?”

Letting out a long exhale, he just kinda zones out a moment, genially scrambling for the answer and scanning every visible inch of you. “…I truly don’t know,” he then squinted his eyes at you, “was this some sort of test? Did I fail it?”

“No, calm down,” you pulled your backpack around to the front, ripping the biggest compartment open and fishing out a bottle of bargain beer for the both of you, “here,” you handed him one.

“What is this, a price for losing?”

“No, that was the thing,” you placed the corner of the bottle’s cap up against the hard edge below you and gave it a swift tap, effectively popping it off and sending a lava flow of bubbles soaring down the dark glass and soaking your hand.

“This was it?” he hesitated, but eventually mimicked your manoeuvre to open the lacklustre beverage.

“Yep,” making the last letter pop as you raised the bottle up towards your lips.

“You’re terrible at twenty questions,” he chuckled, taking a small sip.

“You’re the one who couldn’t figure the answer out!”

“Yeah, because there was no way I was ever going to be able to figure that out! You can’t just be like Bilbo and ask for a person to guess what’s in your pocket, it has to be something the other person would be able to figure out.”

“That’s never how I played it, but if you wanna go again, play by your rules, then go right ahead, I’ll guess this time.”

After the last of the beers, you’d brought with you were a thing of the past, after several rounds of that child-like play had flown by, the harsh chime of his phone interrupted your guessing of what you were pretty sure was the small spire visible in the horizon before you.

Like a reflex, he fished it out of his pocket, and you watched as the soft smile quietly vanished from his features as if it had never been there to begin with, snuffed out and forgotten like last season’s fashion. It hadn’t been the first time you’d witnessed his phone be a mood killer, it happened at least once whenever he had been in your presence.

“What is it?” you asked, tossing the game to the side to make room for the growing concern you simply couldn’t ignore any longer.

“It’s nothing,” you watched his face twitch slightly as he read the message that plainly bothered him. Taking a deep breath, he tugged it away in his jacket and circled back to the quickly forgotten game, “you, um, still have 4 more questions till you run out-”

��Sirius,” you cut him off, determined to figure out what was troubling him, “who was that?” not giving you an answer, he simply averted his gaze. “I’m not gonna tell anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about. Who do you think I know that I could spill all of your deep dark secrets to? My neighbour Mary who’s about 90? Oh yeah, she would have a field day, if she actually remembers to put her hearing aid in,” you joked, in an effort to get him to relax and open up, “come on, you can tell me.”

After a good long moment of him thoroughly biting his inner cheek, he finally spoke, “it was my dad. He wanted to remind me that I’m supposed to start sitting in on meetings beginning by tomorrow. Start doing my part for the family business and finally grow up. He wants me to follow in his footsteps. And I know that it must sound fascinating, running a huge company like that, but it truly isn’t. It’s just a bunch of long boring meetings with boring money-hungry people talking about boring numbers. It has absolutely nothing to do with the cars themself.”

“And that’s not what you want?” you asked softly.

“That’s not the point,” he uttered, sounding downright exhausted.

“Isn’t it? Do you want to follow in his footsteps?”

Staring out into nothing, he slowly let the truth slip out past his lips, “no...” the tiny word instantly hitting him like a truck, “fuck. I’ve never actually said that out loud before… I don’t wanna do that… I don’t know what it is that I want to do, but I sure as hell know it isn’t that. I don’t wanna become another soulless businessman like my father.”

“Can I ask you something?” you asked him gently.

“Sure.”

“Why are you still studying business if you know that’s not what you wanna do?”

Exhaling heavily, “because I think what scares me even more than this future they’ve got all mapped out for me is the unknown. I don’t know what will happen if I hop off the train, but at least I know what it looks like inside and I know where it’s headed.”

Without giving it a second thought, you reached out and took his hand in yours.

“You’ll get off. Might not be today, but someday you will.”

A soft smile spread across his lips as the stressful thoughts slowly melted away with the aid of your touch and he turned his attention back to the date. “I gotta admit, this wasn’t at all what I expected.”

“What did you think? That I was gonna take you to dinner at a michelin restaurant? Some day you will learn that money can’t buy you everything. I mean, just look at that view,” you nodded towards the blushing skies above, the sun now nearly disappeared down behind the many roofs of the city.

“Yeah,” he breathed, not taking his eyes off of you for a second, “it’s beautiful.”

Not soon thereafter, when the dark night started to bloom and the date was due to end, you took him up on his adorably chivalrous offer and let him walk you back home. However, when you reached the outside of your building, he wasn’t the only one anymore that wasn’t ready to part ways yet. When you fumbled with the keys and he eagerly asked, “could I maybe walk you all the way in to your front door?” all you did was nod, because right now in this very moment, just one more minute of his charm was all you desired.

“Just what floor did you say you lived on?” he puffed from behind you once you’d reached the third floor of the old apartment building.

“I didn’t,” if you’d told him that you lived on the fifth floor, right underneath the roof in a tiny shoebox of an apartment, he properly wouldn’t have dared to climb the steep stairs with you. “And just because you're walking me to my door doesn’t mean you get to come inside, okay?”

“Got it.”

Even though he looked to be in phenomenal shape, you still noticed his attempt to hide how much of a tole this trek really was for him.

Once you finally reached the small dark door to your home, out of sight and out of mind down a narrow hallway, creaking it open, his eyes widened at the sight of your tiny apartment, “oh my god, that’s your apartment?” he didn’t even have to poke his head inside to be able to view every single millimetre, seeing as the whole flat in its entirety was probably the size of his bathroom.

“That’s my apartment,” you confirmed, not finding the size as jarring as he did.

“Is it even legal to live up here? Aren’t these attic rooms for storage or something?”

“They used to be, but now I promise it's totally above board.”

After letting out a small chuckle, he then took one last long look at you standing in the doorway, smiling warmly down at you, “I had a lot of fun tonight.”

“Yeah, me too,” you smiled, and when he then turned to take his leave, you stopped him, “hey Sirius?” still close, he turned around, “can I-, could I maybe-…”

Taking a step closer to you, he stared down at you and uttered, “what?”

“…can I kiss you?”

Not hesitating for even a second, probably just in case you would change your mind, Sirius bent down and boldly kissed you. The feel of his soft lips pressed against yours and his tongue confidently asking for entrance surprisingly didn’t increase your nerves, it minimised them. It felt oddly comfortable. Like you’d already done it a thousand times before.

“Goodnight,” he breathed out, lingering just a little longer.

“Night.”

The persistent knocks at your door finally came to a screeching halt as you swung it open and revealed the unexpected figure of Sirius.

“I need to talk to you,” he insisted, sounding out of breath, probably having sprinted up the stairs.

Furrowing your brows at the less-than-warm greeting, you asked, “Sirius? What are you doing here? It’s 11 o'clock at night,” pushing past you, the small stumble he took as he crossed over the threshold didn’t manage to escape your perception, “hey, what’s going on?”

“Everything’s going on!” he bellowed, making you quickly close the door behind him and cross your fingers that the walls in your building weren’t as thin as you feared if he was going to continue at this dramatic volume.

Whirling around to plant his unfocused eyes on you, you saw right through him and asked, “are you seriously drunk right now?”

Fully ignoring your question, he sank down onto your small couch and spoke wearily, staring out into your dimly lit home, “you messed everything up.”

“Excuse me,” you crossed your arms and closed your light robe a bit more to cover your less then modest pyjamas up, on the verge of just ripping the door open again so that you could kick him out, “I haven't done anything-”

“You messed up everything!” his unsteady eyes finally met your glare, “everything was just fine before I met you, there was a plan, a good plan,” he gesticulated with his right hand, “I didn’t see any problem with the plan till you had to show up and turn it all upside down,” you felt your heart start to sink as his intoxicated words impacted, “you ruined it all. You ruined me. For the first time in my life, the world is a truly terrifying place. It’s never been that way till you showed up,” you noticed his clenched jaw begin to quiver, “you are like a bright light, showing me just how dark my life actually is. I didn't ask for that perspective! I was perfectly fine just wandering around in the dark!”

“Sirius,” you reeled back, completely stunned by the tornado that had just interrupted your evening routine, “what are you-”

“You scare the shit out of me, Y/n,” he exclaimed, cutting your question off before it could fully form, “no girl has ever done that, except for you. Fuck, I love you! That terrifies me!” he sank down even further, nearly laying down at this point, overwhelmed by the storm brewing between his ears, “but what scares me even more is the thought of losing you.”

Completely stunned, you found your body slowly dropping down upon the mattress of your bed, sitting there at a complete loss for words, flabbergasted as you watched his low groans and curses gradually fade away until you picked up on how his breaths had slowed, and his lids had grown heavy, exhaustion snuffing him out like a flame.

Curled up on the windowsill, backlit by the morning sun, you raised your eyes from the sketchbook balanced on your bent knees, to reference the dark-haired man still passed out on your tiny couch.

Even after you’d not so silently riffled through your pantry this morning, checking to see if you had any resemblance of a hangover cure hidden away in there, he still slept like a baby, through all the crinkly bags and accidentally dropped containers.

Though now, as you weren’t really making any noise at all, simply emanating the silent scratching of your pen against paper, you saw him stir, inhaling sharply as he awoke.

“Morning sleepy head,” you tried to be mindful of your volume, the light wince your tone evoked from him clearly affirmed your suspicion of the horrible state the night before had put him in.

Craning his neck to look at you, he sat up, squinting in confusion as the bright morning light washed over him, “Y/n, what, um,” his voice sounded like it had been through a meatgrinder, “what am I doing here?”

“You don’t remember?” you sat the sketchbook down beside you but kept your seat in the window, merely shifted a bit.

“I-… Did something happen?” his palm lifted up to shield his mouth in worry, “did we-”

“Oh my god, no,” you got what he was hinting at and quickly cut in to correct him before your cheeks had a chance to turn an even brighter shade of red, “you showed up here last night, completely wasted.”

“Oh…”

“Yelled at me for a little bit and then you kinda just passed out.”

“Fuck…” he sighed, jaw clenching from guilt, “Y/n, I’m really sorry.”

“Yeah, you should be,” you crossed your arms tightly across your chest, “what even happened last night? Were you just at some club and randomly decided to come and shout at me a bit?”

“I wasn’t out,” he shook his head, still not meeting your eye, “I was at this stupid party with my family, some fundraiser I think, and became maybe a bit too pissed and got into an argument with my dad,” taking a deep breath in, he spoke, “I told him that I’m dropping out of school and that I don’t want to take over the company.”

“Oh…” it nearly came out as a whisper.

Taking shelter behind his hands, he lightly ran them down his face, “I’m really sorry,” he said earnestly, “I shouldn’t have bombarded you like that. I don’t remember what I said, but you don’t deserve any of it.”

Every word he had uttered the night before still played on a loop inside your mind, “…none of it?”

“No,” he finally met your gaze, “not one.”

Your churning stomach tried to prevent the words from flowing out, but your now fully bloomed feelings eventually prevailed as you found yourself asking him softly, “not even the part where you told me you love me?”

#lea’s writing #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #sirius black x female reader #sirius black fluff #sirius black x you #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fic #orchid #marauders era imagine #sirius black fanfic #sirius black angst #modern!old money!sirius black #artist!reader ᰔ

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jdbellingham · 1 year

Text

LIGHT SWITCH

pairing : jude bellingham x reader

requests are open!!

word count: 472 (this is short lol)

summary: after being stood up time and time again, you finally give up on Jude.

warnings: cussing, angst

“IM SICK OF us being on and off like a fucking light switch!” She yelled, throwing her hands down. She gazed into Jude’s dark brown eyes which mirrored her own, large glistening pools about to overfill with tears. She could almost make out her own reflection in them, knowing that he could probably make himself out in hers.

“I’m sorry,” Jude replied, his voice quivering. Like a crackling fire, his voice was on the verge of fading into a faint whisper. His fingers clenched tightly into balled fists, fingernails digging crescent shaped wounds into his palm.

He watched as the girl he had loved since 12th year stared at his hands, then subconsciously tucked them behind his back. Flexing them to make sure there was still circulation.

“Jude I don’t want to do this,” She said, this time her voice slower and softer, comparatively gentle to the harsh words she had spoke just a few moments before. “But I have to, because I don’t want you to think that leaving me in front of restaurants and theatres time after time again, alone- is okay. And-”

“Y/n please,” Jude interrupted, his entire being was pleading, he would’ve dropped to his knees if she wanted him to. “I have loved you since i was 17, and I know at times I seem like a complete idiot, and I know for a fact I don’t deserve you. But I love you, Y/n L/n. I love you. And I’ll be damn stupid to let you leave. You are wonderful, and you are astoundingly smart,you are everything any man wants, and could ask for. But most of all, you are you. You are the girl who inspires me to change, you are the girl who I look forward to seeing every second of the day, and you are the person who not only makes people their best selves, you are the person who makes me, me. Y/n please just stay, I’ll make everything up to you, I’ll-”

This time it was Y/n who interrupted Jude, she had-had enough. She couldn’t take anymore before she would cave. One more word of his monologue and she would’ve folded before him and she’d have been the one begging for forgiveness.

“Jude,” Y/n began, and his sweet doe eyes lit up with hope,

“No,”

The light in his eyes vanished and the sound of his breath hitching filled the silence.

“Goodbye, Jude,” She said, the tears which she had held at bay for so long finally slipping down her face, and slowly but quite noticeably the tears multiplied. One tear became another, and suddenly her cheeks were streaked with warm salty drops. She quickly realized, and wiped what she could off, before whipping around and beginning to walk away.

And as much as she hated admitting it, she had hoped Jude would’ve stopped her.

do you guys want pt 2? feel free to send me suggestions!!

note: idk what this trash is, and ik i didn’t put it on the list of upcoming fics but I need to post smth bc my other fic is giving me writers block. anyway yeah don’t expect short stuff like this very often :)

TAKING REQUESTS!!!

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the-really-lonely-mountain · 5 months

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Along for The Ride - Part 1

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Summary: Transported to Middle Earth, you must Join Thorin Oakenshield's Company as they travel to reclaim Erebor! OR: My take on the classic 'modern girl in Middle Earth' troupe. With this first installment, we are following the first movie of The Hobbit trilogy, and falling in love with Kili on the way! Slow burn with this one y'all, nothing spicy till the next work I'm afraid.

Tags: Kili / Reader, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Modern Character in Middle Earth, During The Hobbit, How Do I Tag, Canon-Typical Violence, Kíli Is a Little Shit (Tolkien), wrote this while I had covid, in like 4 days lol, implied soulmates, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Freeform, Holding Hands, Cuddling & Snuggling, Sleepy Cuddles, Protective Thorin Oakenshield Company Members, Dwalin & Thorin Oakenshield Friendship, Fluff and Humor, Domestic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Where In Middle-Earth Is Gandalf?, Hair Braiding, Dwarf Courting, My First Tumblr Fic, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fíli & Kíli & Thorin Live, Thorin Oakenshield Lives, Fíli Lives (Tolkien), Kíli Lives (Tolkien)

Word Count: 6,292

A/N: I was utterly appalled by the lack of Kili writers on here and Ao3. Y'all who write for Kili, I've been eating your crumbs like it's the shit (cause it is) for weeks, but one can't be sustained on crumbs alone so I've prepared a feast!! This is the first fic I've ever wanted to post, please be gentle. Comments, Likes, and Reblogs are loved and treasured!!

Tagging the amazing Kili writers I've been living off of for the past few weeks and who have inspired me so they might share in the feast as well lol go check out their stuff too: @mikathemonster, @cowboybeepboop, @littleenglishfangirl, @ethereal-inquisitor, @sweetpeakili

Photo credit: @immawriteyouthings

Divider credit: @cafekitsune

You were having one of those days that made you want to run away from everything. Instead, you walked on the golf course behind your house after hours; no phone, no umbrella, no bag this time, just you. You had what you could fit from your hands in your jean pockets as you walked the grassy field. Something twinkled and caught your eye on the far side of the fairway, there was a sparkle in the ferns. You walked over and began looking through the underbrush. Your hand grazed a smooth stick with a mangled end that encased a gem. You picked it up hoping for a better look but were transported to another world instead!

You appeared in the new world holding the staff. You were standing beside an older fellow with a pointy hat and long grey beard. You looked around and saw many other gruff, burly-looking men sitting in an encampment. They looked as confused as you. You did the only thing you could think of doing at that moment.

You turned around and took off running as fast as you could.

The wizard whose staff you were running away with asked the younger dwarves in his company to fetch you for him. They ran after you as quick as the wind. You dodged trees and hurdled bushes, making an all-around great effort. You were slowing down though. You stopped for a moment to catch your breath and plan. A twig snapped in the distance; quick footsteps closed in on you. You took off again. You needed a place to hide, a moment to think for God's sake. You were afforded no such luxuries. They were gaining, you were tiring. In your drained haste, you tripped on a bush which sent you stumbling and struggling to regain your footing given your momentum. You finally fell and scampered to take cover behind the roots of a great tree. Their footfalls grew slower and drew nearer. They were so close you could hear their words now.

“…She’s hiding, Fili,” one said much closer than you expected them to be.

You tried your best to steady your breathing. Your heartbeat was so loud you knew they could hear it.

“Stop scaring her Kili,” The other chastised. “You know she’s got to be scared half to death”. He walked past you, studying the ground. The other came up the other side of the tree doing the same.

You gripped the staff preparing yourself to be found. They turned in unison following the same tracks and looked up at you simultaneously. They were both panting but not as hard as you. Fili, the elder and more experienced of the two knelt where he stood a few yards from your curled trembling form.

“My name is Fili” He put his hand on his chest and motioned to the man next to him, “This is my brother Kili. We mean no harm to you.” He kept his distance and showed his empty hands. You stayed firmly pressed against the tree trunk, your chest heaving rapidly and your eyes as large as saucers. They could have tackled you, beaten you, or done any number of terrible violating things, but they kept their distance and spoke softly.

“What’s your name?” Kili asked, with a charming smile as he crouched beside his brother.

“Y/N,” you said in a shaky freaked-out tone.

“Y/N, that’s our friend wizard’s staff,” Fili said, “If anyone can figure out how you got here, he can.”

“But you gotta come back to camp with us,” Kili said reaching out his hand as a peace offering. So many horrible things could happen to you in the wild of this new world, but even more on top of that could if you didn’t go with them.

“How can I trust you?” You asked them. They looked at each other.

“How can we trust you?” Kili threw back at you with a suspicious look and recoiled his hand.

“Touche” you nodded returning his look.

“Seems we are at an impasse then,” Fili huffed at his brother, “You want to get home, and our wizard can do that. The only way that can happen is if you come with us back to our camp. We can only offer you our word and promise on our honor as dwarven princes that you will not be harmed by any in our company.”

You thought for a moment and nibbled at your lip, “You promise?” you looked up at Kili this time.

Kili looked you deep in the eyes, and very seriously said: “No harm will ever come to you, on my honor as a prince.”

You nodded at this, “Very well”, and tried to stand up but were stuck against the tree. The 2 men easily lifted you back to your feet. You followed them back to the camp.

You tried your best to hide behind Kili as you approached the wizard smoking a pipe. You peeked from around his shoulder at the other men in the camp. They were looking at you.

“Please sit, my dear,” The wizard said to you, motioning to the rest of the long log beside him “We have much to discuss.”

Your legs wouldn’t move you from behind the dwarf. You were still quite afraid.

“She seems to have taken a liking to you Kili,” the wizard said to him. The rest of the company let out a soft chuckle of agreement. You couldn’t see it from your angle, but Kili smiled and nodded.

“Sit down child, we aren’t going to hurt you,” One of the dwarves sitting across the fire said. You took a deep breath to gather your courage. One false move by any of the others would have you bolting again.

You moved from behind Kili and sat beside the wizard still clutching the staff.

“May I take that from you?” the wizard politely asked. You handed it to him. He explained how this type of thing had happened to a couple of his wizard friends before, but he didn’t know the remedy or spell to undo it or how to prevent it from happening again. You sat quietly listening and nodding. He explained to you and the rest of the company that he was leaving to travel to his friend and inquire about your predicament. In the meantime, he convinced the company and its leader, Thorin you came to know, to keep you in the company as an innocent bystander to help around the camp and whatnot till Gandalf (the wizard) could figure out what to do with you. Gandalf gave you a small sack of coins, instructing you to get a bag, a bedroll, clothes, and any other necessities you’ll need at the next town.

As the fire died down so did the company. They got out their bedrolls and sleeping gear like a synchronized unit and as quickly as they started, they were all asleep snoring softly. Kili had first watch and was sitting on the ground next to you leaning against the log you were on. You slid onto the ground next to him curled with your knees to your chest. He looked over at you. You looked over at him.

“I don’t know what to do now,” you said not hiding the waver in your voice very well, “I’m so scared.” You couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. You cried into your hands as quietly as possible, so you didn’t disturb and anger the others. If you had looked at Kili, you would have seen him in a slight panic and at a loss for what to do, he didn’t know how to console crying women. You sobbed into your hands knowing you just needed to let it all out then you’d be fine. Kili looked at the fire and put his hand on your back. Physical contact of any kind back home was next to nonexistent, it felt nice to know he was trying his best to comfort you. After a few minutes of uncontrollable sobbing and hiccups wracking through you, you began calming down. When you were able to breathe properly, you wiped your face even though tears kept falling. You sniffled and rested your chin on your knees letting the tears fall silently now.

“Do you feel better?” Kili guessed in a soft tone and rubbed his hand on your back.

You nodded at him, “Yes” You took a deep breath and wiped the tears from your eyes as best you could, “Thank you” You looked at him and smiled a little. He smiled and nodded too, still concerned but returned his hand to his lap. You sniffled and looked at the fire.

“Really though I don’t know what I’m doing,” you said. “I’ve never been camping before,” you paused to think. “I don’t know how to fight or use a sword or make a fire or hunt or-or—” You were working yourself up and starting to cry again. Kili cut you off before you could start sobbing hysterically again.

“WOAH! Woah!!” alarmed, he put his hand on your back again, “It’s ok. Calm down.” he said harshly, “Take a deep breath, that seemed to help last time,” He mumbled the last part under his breath. That made you smile despite yourself.

“You don’t know how to console someone, do you?” You took a deep breath and wiped your eyes. He shook his head and took his hand from you. “Seems we’re both out of our depth then,” you said making the mood a bit lighter.

“In my defense, I was raised in a pack of manly men,” He smiled fondly “It’s a wonder my mother got through to me at all.”

“So, you do have a mother,” you said, making him look at you quizzically “I assumed you were raised by wolves,” You shrugged. He laughed and you couldn’t help but smile.

“You’re not completely wrong about that,” He smiled, looking over at the men across the fire. There was a momentary silence. “We’ll teach you those things, how to fight, how to make a fire, all that,” He looked over at you, “I mean who knows how long Gandalf will be, and you’d have to be pretty stupid not to pick up a thing or two even from this bunch.” You smiled and nodded; this calmed your nerves a little. A moment of silence fell between you again.

“Is it ok if I stay up with you?” you innocently asked, “I’m not very tired.”

“Sure,” he said casually, “May I ask about your life back in your world?”

“OK,” You nodded.

“What do you do?” he asked, you gave him a weird look. “Like for a living, how do you make money, how do you spend your days?”

“I’m a student at university at the moment.” He looked at you confused this time. “I spend my days studying at a desk, it’s boring and dull” You quickly summed up.

“Ooohh,” He said, “No wonder you couldn’t run for shit,” He laughed.

You scoffed, “So rude,” You huffed, failing to hide your smile. He was glad you were cheering up a bit.

“If it’s so boring and dull, why don’t you do something else?” He asked, naive to your world and its ways.

“It’s…complicated” you sighed “I have to study to do what I want to do for work even though I don’t want to work or study or do any of that, but I have to make money somehow because I need money to do stuff and buy things because the world I live in is shitty that way and it’s so frustrating sometimes,” you gritted your teeth to make your point.

“Well, what do you want to do then?” he asked, trying to understand your strange world.

“Sit on the beach,” You said without hesitation “…Listen to the waves…sleep on a blanket in the sun,” you sighed wistfully. “Die happy and rich.”

“That does sound nice” He agreed “I’ve never seen a tropical ocean before, the seas near the Blue Mountains are all frozen over.”

“Surely there’s a beach somewhere in this world,” You refused to believe the universe sent you to a world without a beach.

“There is! I’ve heard stories of Southern Gondor, where the sun makes the sand hotter than forges, and the water falls over the horizon in every direction.”

“That sounds like the beaches from back home,” You felt a little bad for him. You’d been practically raised at the beach because it was the only free thing to do in your hometown.

“May I ask a question?” you asked this time.

“Of course,” He shifted to lean against the log and face you.

“What are you guys doing?” you gestured to the camp around you.

“We are on a quest!” He said proudly, “A quest to take back our ancestral home from the dread dragon Smaug,” he said in a sinister voice. He explained about Erebor and the dragon and Thorin to catch you up. You listened, nodded, and took it all in, asking questions and giggling at his jokes. He was a decent storyteller.

“And I’m just along for the ride I guess,” you said deflated about your role in all this.

“If it’s any consolation, you’re quite good company,” He indulged; Kili always got so lonely on watch.

“Yay!” you said over a yawn, “I’d hate to bore any of you,” you replied, genuinely fearing your stories may never measure up to theirs. You leaned over and laid on the soft grass, curled in a ball with your arm as a pillow. You tried not to shiver from the cool evening breeze. You heard some shuffling of fabric, and then a blanket fluttered on top of you. You looked at Kili who smiled and said: “I’m quite the furnace at night, I’ll be fine without it,” he reassured.

“Thank you,” you said over another yawn. You didn’t expect to fall asleep but the next thing you knew it was early morning and you were awoken by the clanging of pots and spoons. You sat up and looked around to get your bearings.

‘Still in the same strange world’ you thought not fully awake. Kili appeared, greeted you good morning, and handed you a bowl of white goo he called porridge. You thanked him and ate your breakfast in silence like the rest of the company. While the men packed up the camp you were tasked with washing the dishes in a nearby stream. You were struck by the beauty of the incredible woods around you even in the dim morning light. You returned to camp and put the dishes in their bag, which was taken by one of your new companions. You felt out of place without a task among everyone who knew what to do. Balin saw you standing in the middle of the camp looking lost. He asked Thorin what they were to do about their lack of an extra pony for you. They decided you could ride with Kili seeing as he was the lightest (next to Bilbo) and his pony could take the weight and because you seemed the most comfortable with him. The old dwarf with a white-grey beard curled up at the ends approached you with as much of a nonthreatening air as he could muster.

“Good morning, my dear!” He greeted you with a chipper smile. “My name is Balin”

“Good morning,” you replied. “I don't quite know what I’m to be doing,” you said sheepishly.

“That’s ok lass, it’ll come with time,” he reassured, “For now, you’ll ride with Kili so you can see if he needs help getting ready.”

“Ok,” You nodded and started walking in Kili’s direction. You stopped in front of his pony and petted its nose and down its neck. “I’ve been told that I’m to ride with you,” you said timidly looking at him adjust his saddle. Kili looked at you and nodded.

“I’ll be happy to have a lovely conversation again” He smiled and looked back at his saddle, making the final arrangements.

He turned to you and said, “I’ll give you a leg up,” And jabbed a thumb at his pony. You nodded and approached the animal. You put your hands on the ponies back and bent your leg waiting for him to help. He leaned forward so he could whisper in your ear: “Wrong leg”. You blushed quite profusely at that and switched legs. He heaved you with such strength he nearly threw you over the other side of the pony. You made yourself comfortable behind the saddle before he hooked his foot in the stirrup and carefully mounted so he didn’t knock you off.

“You ok?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Yep!” you smiled. He nodded. You were excited to see new lands even though you feared what they harbored.

“If you need to hold on to me when we get going you can,” he said, making you both blush despite yourselves.

A few moments later Thorin called out: “Company ready?” in a deep booming voice, “Aye!” They all replied in unison. “Company, move out!” He bellowed and urged his pony forward. The rest followed behind him one by one. When your animal lurched forward you grabbed Kili's waist for dear life. The company was silent till they got to the end of the forest. You had your cheek pressed against Kili’s shoulder and your chest against his back. The fur of his coat was very soft against your face as you turned your head to look over his other shoulder. You yawned but didn’t realize you did it right next to his ear and breathed down his neck. He determinedly kept his eyes on the pony ahead of him to keep the blush rising in his chest at bay.

“You can take a nap if you need to,” he said over his shoulder in a soft voice for only you to hear.

“That sounds like a good idea,” You yawned again. You buried your face in the soft spare fabric of the hood on his back and cuddled closer to him to rest your head on his shoulder. You closed your eyes and sleep swiftly took you. He knew this because he could feel your breathing slow on the back of his neck. He was happy you could sleep and couldn’t help his smile. You shifted now and then, turning your head one way then a while later turning it the other. Kili tried not to talk or move too much in fear of waking your delicate slumber. By midday, you felt very well rested. You took a deep breath and released your grasp on Kili to stretch your arms above your head, arching your back to wake yourself up. You quickly slipped your arms around him again, so you didn’t fall.

“Good morning!” He chirped, “Well afternoon really,” he corrected with a smile, “Sleep well?”

“Mhm,” You hummed against his shoulder “I haven’t slept that well in a long time,” you said thinking back on the restless weeks before your arrival in Middle Earth.

“Good,” He nodded. “Happy I could be of service.”

“Yes, you make quite the comfortable bed,” you replied.

An easy silence settled between you for a while. You contentedly watched the landscape pass by while he kept the pony on the path.

“What’s a good weapon for a beginner?” You asked knowing you needed to start wrapping your head around the fact that you could be stuck here forever and needed to protect yourself. He thought about that for a few moments.

“I’d have to say a bow,” He shrugged, “I don’t know honestly, lemme ask Fili,” he kicked up his pony to walk faster to be next to his brother. “What is the best weapon for a beginner?” He asked him. Fili glanced at you and thought for a moment.

“Hmm I think a sword would be easiest,” He replied, contradicting his brother.

“A sword?!” Kili said incredulously “No that’s one of the harder ones,” He swatted his hand as if to swipe the words from the air.

Fili scoffed “For you maybe,” he said barely keeping his teasing smile under control “But not to the rest of us, my weapon-challenged brother.” That made you giggle. Kili huffed and pulled his horse back, so he wasn’t beside his brother anymore.

“Are you that bad with a sword?” you asked, trying not to laugh too much.

“No!” he exclaimed, “I’m just better with a bow and arrows,” he pouted.

‘Awe he’s so cute when he pouts’ Your thought took you by surprise.

“Perhaps you can teach me, Archer,” Your voice was lower than you intended, making you both blush. Your breath ghosted over his ear making him shiver just a little. He turned his head to look at you over his shoulder, his face so close to yours. He looked at your lips then deep into your eyes holding eye contact.

“Maybe I will,” he said in a deep gruff whisper that made you gasp and goosebumps rush over your skin. He turned back and smiled; proud he could get a rise out of you. You huffed and distanced yourself from him by leaning back, needing the space to calm down.

As night drew closer, Thorin led the company to the edge of a forest and found a shallow cave, more like a cliff overhang to make camp for the night. He told Fili and Kili to take care of the ponies and Oin and Gloin to make the fire. After the meals had been handed out Thorin told you to take Fili and Kili a bowl. You walked through the forest and found them looking at a downed tree in panicked awe.

“Something took 4 of the ponies,” Fili said to you, hoping you’d have the answer to their predicament.

“Yes, and…” you nodded at them trying not to panic yourself “What are you going to do about it since it’s your problem?”

The brothers decided to see what took the ponies and if they could handle it themselves, no need to worry Thorin, right? You followed them as they tracked the pony-nappers. Kili hid behind a tree and peeked around, you hid behind him and peeked over his shoulder. 3 large trolls were something to worry about, and a sight that made that dreadful feeling drop from your chest into your stomach. Your grip on Kili’s coat tightened.

He turned to you and said in barely a whisper, “Go back to camp and tell Thorin”.

Fili was immediately against it, huffing and puffing from behind his tree. Kili shrugged and motioned with hands as if to say, ‘What else would you have us do?!’ Fili huffed again and snuck around the tree. He tried to cut the rope fence with his sword, but he took too long. The trolls caught him. They were deciding ways to eat him when Kili looked at you in alarm and told you to go back to camp. You ran as fast as you could.

“Ponies! Big grey troll things took the ponies!” You said out of breath pointing the way you just came “Fili…in…danger”. Thorin cursed in dwarfish and rallied the company. Balin told you to keep your distance, so you didn’t get caught in the fight.

The dwarves fought bravely but were captured. Bilbo bid for more time while you thought of a plan. You heard the trolls complain about daylight coming and that gave you an idea. You saw the trolls had made camp in the shade cast by a large boulder. You wedged a branch under the rock and used the leverage to try to roll it. It was very heavy, and you were not. It took everything in your power to push the branch to roll the boulder down the ditch edge it rested on. The trolls were washed in sunlight, turning them to stone and freeing the company. They cheered when you stepped over the branch and into the clearing. You helped them from their confines and smiled and blushed when they praised your good job.

Back at camp the company gathered their things and discussed what to do now. Fili suddenly hushed the company.

“Warg howls in the distance,” He whispered to Thorin “They are coming!”

“RUN!” Thorin yelled at the company. Following Thorin everyone started running. You all ran as fast as you could onto a hilly plane sprinkled with trees and boulders. You ran and ran till the Wargs finally caught up. They began to encircle you. The company fought the beasts, taking them down as still more came at them. You went to hide behind the rock formation but fell into it instead. You climbed out as the Wargs were closing in.

“Down here!” you called “There’s a passage this way!” you slid down to make room for the others. Thorin was the last one, as he slid down a horn was blown near the entrance to the passage.

“I can’t see where it leads, do we follow?” One of the dwarves asked.

“Yes! We follow!” Thorin barged through the dwarves and led the company through the narrow pass. You all walked for a few minutes, but then Thorin rounded a corner and slowed as he realized where he’d unwittingly led the company. The rest kept walking around him, but Bilbo stopped and said in admiration: “Rivendell”. You stopped as well to take in the view before you. It was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. A small town on the side of a mountain with water flowing from beneath some of the glittering structures.

As Thorin led the company over a bridge, you grabbed Kili’s arm to steady yourself as you looked around and took in the ornate statues and architecture of the front steps of a large building. A man much taller than you or the dwarves approached the group.

“We would like to speak to Lord Elrond,” Thorin said through gritted teeth. He was swallowing his pride for the betterment of the quest, that much was clear through his clenched fists and tense shoulders.

“Lord Elrond isn’t here,” The elf said regretfully.

“Then where is he?” Thorin’s patience was growing thin. A horn was sounded on the other side of the bridge you’d just crossed. Everyone turned to see a group of horses galloping towards them. The dwarves began shouting in dwarfish and closing ranks with their weapons ready for battle. You were pushed into the very center of the circle as tall horses and riders circled you. They stopped suddenly and the one on a black horse dismounted.

“My Lord Elrond,” The elf who first approached you said with a bow.

“Lindir” Elrond bowed his head at him then turned to the leader of your group, “Welcome Thorin son of Thrain,” He looked over the dwarf “You have your grandfather's bearings.”

“I’m afraid I know you only from the stories my grandfather told me,” Thorin was doing his best to be polite. (You were later informed that the stories were mostly about him being a ninny.)

“I’d like to offer you and your company a taste of our elfish hospitality,” Elrond said with a warm smile.

“Does that mean we’ll eat?!” Bombur called from the back. The company chuckled at him.

“Yes Bombur, that means we’ll eat” Dori replied. The company cheered at the prospect of a full belly and a warm hearth.

Not long after, you were sat next to Bilbo and Kili at a large table. The salad appetizers were very good despite the dwarves not liking green food very much. You giggled at their jokes about how bad the music was or how they wanted chips and meat. Thorin was sat at another table across from Elrond discussing something you couldn’t hear, but you could tell it pained Thorin to be in the other man's presence.

You turned to Kili beside you. “Thorin looks constipated,” you said in a low voice barely containing your laughter “He can’t even pretend to be enjoying this”. Kili looked over at his uncle and laughed with you.

When the meals were served there was boisterous laughter and general dwarfish shenanigans, the usual at any merry dwarfish gathering. Bilbo looked like he was having PTSD from when they were doing the same at his house at the beginning of the quest. At the end of the meal, Thorin and Balin disappeared with Elrond to discuss a map. You asked Kili if he would escort you to the markets with as much innocent girlish need as you could muster to solidify your security. He agreed and walked with you through the corridors and to the market. He helped you get a fair price on a bag, a blanket, and a bedroll. The next thing you needed was clothes to blend in.

“What do the women around here wear exactly?” You asked him. He shrugged.

“It depends, I guess” He had his hands shoved in his pockets as he followed you around the clothing stalls like a puppy.

“Gee, that’s a big help.” You teased.

After some more wandering you found a stall selling clothes that looked your size. You purchased a dark blue form-fitting tunic that stopped above your knees and had slits on the sides that went up to your hips. It paired very nicely with the brown pants and brown coat with dark blue highlights you bought as well. Kili helped barter with the merchants since you didn’t know the fair price of things here. In another section of the market, you bought spools of black, blue, and pink thread. You put your belongings in your new bag.

“Are we done?” Kili asked, sounding slightly annoyed. He was ready to go back to the others and be away from so many elves. You sighed and rolled your eyes playfully and nodded. He led you through the busy crowded markets by holding your hand. You were thankful he was in front of you so he couldn’t see your blush. You made it back to the group, who had set up camp in a courtyard garden at the end of a hallway. Just as you arrived two female and two male elves came down the hallway.

One of the males stepped forward, “The bathhouse is ready for you now” he said to the group.

“Bath?! We don’t need no stinkin’ bath!” Exclaimed a dwarf from behind the fire. The rest heartily agreed, not ready to drop their pants on elvish soil it seemed.

“I’d like a bath” you timidly said, not wanting to make a fuss but very much wanting to be clean.

“Very good mistress dwarf, if you’ll follow us,” one of the female elves said. You were tense as you followed the four elves down the corridor, not sure what you were doing.

“You best go with her lad,” Dori said to Kili, “You never know what an elf might try to pull.” He glared at the back of the elves as they walked away. Kili nodded and ran after you.

“Y/N!” He called making you and the elves stop.

“Oh, change your mind, Kili?” You asked with an innocent smile, happy to have his company.

“Yeah, I guess so.” He smiled too.

You were led to a large door that opened into a covered hot spring that flowed over the balcony to create an assumably gorgeous waterfall. Columns lined the outer edge of the room which was split down the middle by a cloth partition. The male elves walked to one side of the divider with Kili in tow, while the females walked to the other. The elves asked that you wash under the heated shower of water off to the side before entering the hot springs. They left you to your own devices.

“I’ve never seen anything like this have you?” You asked Kili across the large room.

“No” He smiled at the wonder in your voice from seeing new things and making discoveries. He thought it was very cute.

You placed your bag and new clothes on the vanity in the corner. You undressed and stepped under the warm shower. You used the bar of soap you found to wash your hair and body. It was the best-smelling soap you’d ever had the pleasure of experiencing.

“Hey, Kee?” You hollered.

“Yeah?” He yelled back.

“Do you plan on keeping your soap?”

“No…Why?”

“I’ll take it then. I’ll need extra anyway,” And you were so happy you did. That soap made your hair silky smooth and stronger than ever. You rinsed the suds away then stepped into the hot springs.

It felt luxurious. You couldn’t help but moan a little as the heat pulled every knot and tense muscle from you. Relaxed, you floated in the steamy water.

“You still there Kili?” you asked suddenly nervous he’d left you.

“Yeah, I’m here” He replied, “We shouldn’t take too much longer though, Thorin could be back any minute and who knows what kind of a mood he’ll be in.”

That made you enjoy the bath a little faster. Not long after you began drying off and getting dressed. You took the hairbrush and beads and other miscellaneous hair trinkets that were on the vanity. You looked in the mirror at your new outfit. It fit as you thought, though a little snugger in some places than others, hugging your curves to allow for movement yet still baggy for breathability and insulation. Overall, a nice ensemble.

“Ready Y/N?” Kili asked from across the partition.

“Yeah, you can come over, I’m just packing my things.” You replied, folding your old clothes, and putting them in your bag with the rest of your things.

“Here’s the soap” He handed it to you.

“Thanks!” You smiled at him; you simply wrote his flushed cheeks off to the hot water. When you stood, he was able to get a much better look at you in your new clothes.

“A perfect fit I see” He smiled, looking you up and down. He couldn’t help but imagine what you’d look like wearing nothing but his tunic. A line of thought he blushed at and quickly willed away.

“Does it look alright? I don’t know how it’s supposed to fit” You fussed with the hems and the folds trying to make them lay better. He grabbed your hand to make you stop fidgeting.

“You look great,” he said with a genuine smile. You smiled and nodded your appreciation.

You walked back to camp, making moneyless bets on what mood Thorin would be in when he returned.

As you approached Fili saw you in your new outfit and said, “Well look at this…” Making the rest of the company look at you too, “Our wee lass looks like a bona fide middle earther now!” They cheered at your near-complete indoctrination.

“Now she just needs to learn how to fight like one.” Bofur quipped from beside the fire.

“Then I wouldn’t need any of you to protect me!” You put the back of your hand to your forehead feigning a damsel in distress, making the company laugh. You sat on the ground beside the long chair Kili was now examining his weapons in and leaned against it. You held out a stone fish figurine to him.

“As a thank you for helping me” you cleared your throat “…And for being my friend.” You couldn’t meet his eyes, but you knew he was smiling a little around his reed pipe. He took it from your open hands. You know it wasn’t much but it’s all you could offer.

“Maybe one day you can return it to the ocean,” you said, referring to your previous conversation.

“Maybe I will,” he smiled down at you with genuine fondness.

“Bombur!” Bofur called before throwing a sausage to his cousin. The table, which took skilled elfin craftsman months, even years to craft and carve out of solid wood, collapsed under the massive weight of Bombur. Everyone erupted in laughter, it was nice to be part of the group and share in the merriment.

Thorin stopped Balin on their way back to the camp, “We should leave her here,” He said, “She is a liability.”

Balin had a terrible sinking feeling in his round tummy when he thought of splitting you up.

“So what if she is, Thorin?” Balin said near pleading. “Have you ever seen your nephew that happy or open with a girl that quick before? I’ve never seen the lad so engaged in a conversation that didn’t have to do with weapons before last night. So what if she dies on our quest, at least we gave them a chance to happen, and if fate finds their pairing favorable it will all work out!” Balin was desperate to keep you and the young prince together if only to keep the sinking feeling at bay.

Thorin huffed, “Very well, but her blood is not on my hands,” He walked away and into the camp.

Thorin and Balin returned, and the tone became slightly more serious—slightly. The company settled and laid their bedrolls in the grassy parts of the garden. You laid yours out as well and prepped for sleep by removing your shoes and coat. The night was warm enough that your blanket would suffice. You looked up at the stars wondering if any of the constellations were the same as back home. You cuddled your coat to your chest relishing the feel of the soft fabric. The low conversation between Fili and Kili, while they sat on watch across the fire, lulled you to sleep.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

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