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the-cult-of-riley · 2 months

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Sleeping With Ghosts (Act One: Chapter Twenty Four)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

[[Masterlist]]

A/N: The wedding is here!!!!

Thank you once again to everyone showing love to this story. It’s nowhere near done but my brain is getting antsy. I have like a billion Ghost stories I wanna write, some I've started already, some mere ideas in my pesky brain. I’d love to hear which ones you guys are most interested in first. I can’t list all of my ideas here because it would take too long but some of the ones I’m doing are;

-Ghost/OC/Soap story. MC is on the task force.

-I don’t wanna call it an alpha/omega story because the MC is human, but it's kinda along those lines with mates and stuff. But it falls into obsessive Ghost and reluctant (at first) MC. If you think this Ghost is pussy whipped for Lottie then… lmao just wait and see bby.

-a sunshine/grumpy trope story. Ghost absolutely wants nothing to do with her but she's so cute and ridiculous and happy and she worms her way in anyway >:)

-mediaeval ish story. MC is the princess, Ghost is a knight.

-an actual alpha/omega story. Our poor little omega is traumatised and Ghostie takes care of her.

-Zombie AU story. Deals with some pretty dark and depressing shit.

I have more ideas but those are the ones pinging around my brain the most and some I’ve already started. Don’t be shy to let me know.

The wedding dress and the lingerie for reference.

I actually managed to pick a song that wasn’t the usual bands lmao My brain allowed it because good ol’ Greg here is the singer from The Dillinger Escape plan, who I believe our Ghostie listens to lololol

Greg Puciato - Heaven of Stone

In the earth below with

Nowhere else to go

I know that we'll belong

Set free from all the wrongs

In eternal gardens

Fallen flowers grow

I've held you all along

In heavens made of stone

‘Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.’ Simon tried to remember who said that, if he remembered right, it was Aristotle. Made sense though, didn’t it? Maybe that's why he’d spent most of his life miserable, feeling cold and empty like a haunted house. Maybe that was why he always felt like something was missing. He’d been only half of a soul, floating around like a wraith, trying to find his other half. Now he’d found her, had her stumble right into his life and now he knew he could never look back. He felt whole, he felt complete, he felt like everything was right and the world made sense.

Despite these feelings, he was greedily sucking nicotine from a smoke, his second in less than fifteen minutes, as he sat perched on the wall outside of the courthouse. To say he was feeling nervous would have been a gross understatement. He wasn't having cold feet, in fact Tommy had been stunned by the lack of cold feet he’d shown all morning. He’d never been more sure of anything in his entire life, he knew he wanted her to be his wife. But he was nervous for a lot of other things, the variables in this scenario, the things beyond his control. Just as he hated that bullshit out on the battlefield, he hated it in his personal life. He loved to be in control, it meant he was less likely to get hurt, a feeling he’d been subjected to far too much as a child. He’d vowed never to feel that vulnerable again.

What if she was the one having cold feet? What if she decided she didn't want to marry a tosser like him? What if she decided she didn't want marriage at all? What if she decided she was bored of him and that she didn't want to be with him full stop? What if she didn't turn up? What if he went home and all her stuff was gone? What if, what if, what if? Too many thoughts, too many feelings and he was trying to calm himself down by chain smoking.

“You're gonna get lung cancer before she even gets here at this rate,” Tommy huffed from next to him, snatching the pack of smokes out of his hand and pocketing them. Simon glared at him, stubbing out the end of his cig before flicking it into the bin not too far away.

“I’m fine,” he grouched and Tommy eyed his leg that was anxiously bouncing before raising a smug brow at him. “Fuck off,” he huffed and Tommy snorted.

“It’s okay to be nervous, Si,” he murmured and Simon ran a hand through his hair in agitation.

Lottie would be here soon and he wished she’d just turn up early, to see if she would in fact turn up or if his life was about to quickly go down the shitter.

“What if she doesn't turn up?” he asked, his voice so quiet with the shame of his admission. Tommy glanced at him, a sympathetic smile on his face as he clapped Simon on the back.

“She will turn up,” his simple answer just annoyed him and he heaved a sigh, glaring at him. “She thinks the world of you, Simon, anyone with eyes can see that. She’ll turn up. If anything, she’s probably panicking just as much as you right now. Probably convinced herself you won't be here,” Tommy said quietly and Simon knew he wasn't wrong. He knew his girl so well and she was probably working herself into an even bigger tizzy than he was. He just hated this anxiety, hated being away from her like this. He knew she loved him, his nerves were just getting the best of him.

Tommy’s phone dinged and he glanced at it, grinning before he stood up.

“Come on, arse wipe, up you get. They’re on their way,” he beamed at him.

Relief flooded his system then, knowing she was coming after all, Beth and his mum in tow after helping her get ready. He wondered just what she’d look like walking down the small aisle of the courthouse.

He was wearing a suit, nothing too fancy, just a simple black and white suit that he’d worn to Tommy’s wedding. He’d contemplated getting something fancier, something just for this occasion, but Charlotte had told him to do what he wanted, whatever was comfortable for him so this is what he chose. He wasnt much of a suit person to begin with and he didn’t want to waste money on something that made him so fucking uncomfortable. He felt he scrubbed up decent enough anyway.

He followed his baby brother into the courthouse to await his bride and his stomach felt like there were a million roaches inside, all squirming around trying to get out. He felt sick, breathing slowly so he didn’t fucking pass out and make a right knob of himself while he waited at the end of the aisle. The officiant was an older man, a kind face who had been nothing but nice and polite to the boys since they arrived. They all stood waiting for the girls to arrive.

There wouldn't be music, the wedding march or anything of the like as she walked in. They could have requested it but she’d said no. He'd been a little surprised that she wanted a bare bones wedding like this but he hadn’t minded at all. He tended to agree with her though, weddings were shite. He just wanted to marry her.

He heard the door start to open and he stood taller, as if standing to attention in front of his commanding officer. As the doors fully opened, he felt like all the breath got stolen from his lungs. The feeling was so reminiscent of when they first met and he never would have thought back then that he’d wind up making her his wife.

She was an absolute vision and his throat constricted painfully as he couldn't stop staring at her, eyes unblinking, not wanting to miss anything. The dress suited her perfectly, the lace as delicate as she was and he felt his eyes prickling with unshed tears as the emotion overflowed inside of him. His mum was linking arms with her, giving her away as she had no parents of her own. He remembered how hard Lottie had cried when his mum had offered, remembered how he himself had cried no matter how embarrassing it might have been.

Beth was behind them, holding the train of the dress in one hand, the other arm having an almost one year old Joseph perched on her hip. He was wearing fucking suit and everything. Little man looked proper dapper.

His mum led Charlotte to him and his girl was staring at him with wide eyes and a tentative smile. After a pat to the arm off his teary mum, she sat down with Tommy, Beth and little Jo following along. He couldn't take his eyes off Lottie though as they stared at each other. Her brown waves were up in some braided updo thing, a few waves framing her face. She was perfect.

“You look like an angel, love,” he whispered reverently, his voice thick with emotion as he grasped her hands. She blushed, that pink looking so pretty on her face as she smiled shyly. Always acted like he was complimenting her for the first time. He never tired of making her blush, he loved that he could still have that effect on her.

“You look so handsome, Si,” she murmured, making those moon eyes at him as if he’d hung the moon himself. Fuck, he wished he did. He’d do anything she asked of him no matter how impossible the task.

He wanted to keep going on about how beautiful she was, wanted to kiss the gloss of her perfect lips, wanted to do a lot of things, but then the officiant started speaking.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the union of Charlotte and Simon in marriage. This ceremony marks the beginning of their journey together as husband and wife,” he started and Simon felt the anticipation thrumming through his entire being. His eyes were still glued to his girl, even when he heard his mothers sniffle from her seat.

“Charlotte and Simon, today you come before us to express your love and commitment to one another. Before we proceed, do you both affirm that it is your intention to enter into this marriage willingly and with full understanding of its significance?” he asked and Charlotte smiled up at Simon in a way that rendered his heart to mush.

"We do," they both answered and it made his lips tug up as he squeezed her soft hands gently.

“Excellent. Charlotte and Simon, marriage is a sacred bond, a union founded on love, respect, and mutual trust. It is a promise to stand by each other through life's joys and challenges. It is a commitment to support and uplift one another, to cherish and nurture your relationship each and every day. Now, Charlotte, please share your vows with Simon,” the officiant said with a warm smile.

He could tell she was nervous, felt her hands trembling against his own. He expected her to pull out a piece of paper with her vows on, like his own that he’d stuffed in his pocket. Vows he’d agonised over and rewrote a billion and one times because no words could ever be able to sum up what he wanted to say to her. She didn't seem to need to read her vows though, apparently she had it all stored in her head.

“Simon… from the moment I met you, I knew there was something special about you. You've brought so much joy and love into my life, and I’m grateful for every moment we've shared together. You’ve changed me as a person, for the better. Made me see I’m worthy of being loved. I can never repay you for all you’ve done for me but I’d love to spend the rest of our lives trying,” she started with a wobbly voice and shiny eyes. His chest felt heavy, like a weight bearing down on him as he suppressed the urge to cry like a right mard arse. He gave her a watery smile and she gripped his hands tighter.

“I promise to stand by your side through thick and thin. I promise to support you, to encourage you, and to be your partner in all things. I vow to listen to you with an open heart, to laugh with you in times of joy, and to comfort you in times of sorrow. I choose you today and every day for the rest of our lives,” she murmured earnestly and he had to blink rapidly to quell the onslaught of tears threatening to break through.

“Thank you, Charlotte. Now, Simon, please share your vows with Charlotte,” the officiant smiled.

Simon swallowed thickly, one of his hands leaving Lottie’s so he could retrieve the little piece of paper in his breast pocket with a trembling hand. His breathing was shaky and he tried to calm himself, didn't want his voice to crack.

“Charlotte, from the moment I saw you, I knew you were the one I wanted to spend my life with…” he hated how close to tears he sounded, how the lump in his throat got bigger with each word leaving his mouth. Charlotte gave him an encouraging smile, bringing the hand she still held up to her mouth and placing a tender kiss to his knuckles. “You’re my best friend, my confidante, and my soulmate. Today, in front of our family, I promise to love you unconditionally, to support you in all your dreams and endeavours, and to always be there for you. I promise to cherish you, to respect you, and to honour you for the incredible person you are. I’m so grateful to call you my partner, and I vow to spend the rest of my days makin’ you happy,” he choked out, stuffing the paper back in his pocket before wiping his eyes quickly. The officiant looked at Tommy then and he hopped up, fishing around in his pocket before grabbing the two rings, handing them to both he and Lottie. “As Charlotte and Simon exchange these rings, they are symbolising the commitment and love they have pledged to one another. These rings are more than mere adornments; they are a visible representation of the promises and vows made here today. Charlotte, as you place this ring on Simon's finger, may it serve as a constant reminder of your love, loyalty, and devotion. Let it be a symbol of the unbreakable bond you share and a promise of your commitment to him,” the officiant said, gesturing to Charlotte and she smiled up at Simon, a heart melting smile before she slid the ring on his finger with the utmost care.

“Simon, as you place this ring on Charlotte's finger, may it be a symbol of your eternal love and unwavering dedication. Let it be a reminder of the promises you've made and a testament to the love that will continue to grow between you,” Simon’s thumb brushed over her finger before he slid the ring on, giving her hand a squeeze as he gazed down at her adoringly.

“May these rings forever signify the love and unity you share as husband and wife. With this exchange, your lives are forever intertwined, and your journey together as partners begins anew. And now, by the power vested in me by the City of Manchester, I am honoured to pronounce you husband and wife. You may seal your vows with a kiss.”

Simon wasted no time, gripping either side of Lottie’s face and leaning down, capturing her lips quickly. He’d wanted to do nothing but kiss her since she’d turned up. He kept it tame, he did have an audience after all, he he tried he pour all of his love, all of his emotion into the kiss. When he pulled away, her cheeks were aflame, amusement dancing behind her pretty blue eyes as she smiled at him.

“I love you,” she murmured and he felt himself melting all over again.

“I love you too… Mrs Riley,” he smirked and her smile widened.

They stayed a little longer to sign all the forms to actually be married before they all left the courthouse. Not before his mother had clung to him, weeping into his chest at how proud she was, how fucking happy he was for him. Made his heart feel like it had grown three sizes seeing his poor mum like that about him.

Much to Tommy’s chagrin, there wouldn't be a reception. Charlotte hadn't really wanted one and if he was honest, neither did he. All he could think about as he looked at his new wife in that dress was wanting to get her home and getting inside of her. Before they left, his mum was adamant on getting some pictures that she could print off so they’d posed for her outside of the courthouse and he didn't think he’d ever had a picture taken of him smiling quite like this.

They’d gotten congratulations from the taxi driver on their way home after parting ways with his family and Simon felt his chest puff with pride that Lottie was now his wife. His other half. She was fully his and he felt like he was on top of the world. She seemed so happy, smiling and giggling as he told her shitty jokes on the way home, clutching his arm as they made their way inside and into the lift.

As they walked down the hallway of their apartment, he scooped her up bridal style, making her squeal before she started laughing, gripping around his neck as if she thought he’d drop her. As if he ever would. He was smiling so fucking hard his cheeks hurt and he was sure he probably looked fucking psychotic at this point. He couldn't help it though, he’d never felt happiness quite like this, never thought he would. Hadn’t thought he deserved it. Yet here she was, beautiful and sweet Charlotte, giving him every drop of love she had in her entire being and he wouldn't waste a single bit of it.

He carried her through the threshold, gently placing her on her feet as they got indoors and he shut the door behind her. His eyes turned hungry then as he gazed at her, eyes trailing over her in that fucking dress, looking like some angel sent from heaven to tempt him.

He stepped towards her and the look in his eyes had her stepping back until her back hit the door, lips parted, pupils blown wide as he gazed up at him. He rested his hands either side of her on the door, caging her in, knowing she loved his size and loved feeling helpless around him, little minx she was.

He trailed his nose along her delicate throat with a hum and she let out a soft noise that had his hard dick aching in his pants. He placed a wet and open mouthed kiss on her pulse point, making her moan quietly before he leaned back up to look at her with his blazing eyes.

“You look good enough to eat, sweetheart,” he purred and she smiled, a delighted flash glinting in her eyes.

“Be careful of the dress, it's a rental,” she smirked, making him snort softly.

“That’s a shame, wanted to fuck you in it,” he muttered wickedly, loving how she swallowed thickly, squirming where she stood.

“I have something better… you should take the dress off,” she murmured, looking at him all coy like and batting her lashes.

He was intrigued and horny so he did what he was told like a good husband, moving his hands from the door to around her waist. She gasped as he pulled her flush to his chest, her hands splaying on him as she blinked up at him. His large hand slid around to her back, finding the zip and unzipping it slowly, slow enough to make her shift impatiently.

Once the zip was completely down, his hands trailed in a featherlight touch up to her shoulders, pulling down the dainty straps there. He tugged the dress down, revealing lingerie he hadn't expected underneath. His movements became a little faster now, pulling the dress until it pooled around her ankles and he let out a deep groan, his eyes darkening.

“You dress up for me, angel?” he asked in a mere whisper and her blush swept up her chest to her face as she nodded shyly. What a fucking sight she was like this, white lingerie with delicate straps and flowers adorning her. She’d been right, it was better than the wedding dress. His hands slid up her hips to her waist and he leaned down, nuzzling her nose with his.

“You look absolutely beautiful, Charlotte,” he murmured, brushing his lips against hers and feeling her smile against him.

“You like it?” she asked almost meekly and maybe it shouldn't have made his dick even harder, but it did.

“Fuckin’ love it,” he replied breathlessly.

He trailed hot and wet kisses from her mouth, down her jaw and to her neck, lavishing it with attention, just how she liked it. She let out a breathy moan and he groaned in response, pulling her closer to him as his hands slid around to her arse. It was then he realised the lingerie was a thong and her perfect arse cheeks were on display for him. A growl rumbled in his chest as he gave them a firm squeeze, and she moaned a little louder this time.

“On the bed, love,” he ordered, pulling himself away from her painfully. He needed to get out of his fucking clothes so he could have his way with her before his dick fell off. She flashed him a pretty smile before they both made their way to the bedroom and she sauntered over to the bed. He watched her lay on her side, watching him with rapt attention as he started to undress. His lips tugged into a smirk at her blatant ogling so he made sure to take his time as he unbuttoned his shirt before peeling it off, his pants soon to follow.

Once he was finally free of his constraints, he made a beeline for the bed and Charlotte rolled onto her back waiting for him. He climbed on, parting her thighs and groaning in delight at the view of her soaked cunt behind the sheer white material.

“Look at you, all wet and ready for me already like a good little wife,” he drawled and he didn't miss how her breathing hitched at his words. Her pupils were blown wide as she watched him keenly and he slid his hands up the inside of her thighs slowly, loving how soft her skin was. He could feel her shaking with anticipation, his cock twitching at how she arched her back, trying to get closer to him.

He couldn't tear his eyes off her, he loved her so much it felt like it caused him physical pain sometimes. He leaned down, kissing every morsel of skin he could that poked out of her body suit, worshipping her body like the goddess she was. Fucking hell, he’d give his life to her, devote everything he had in him to her.

She was writhing under his touch, at every flutter of his lips against her skin, every brush of his tongue, every nip of his teeth. He was reverent with every touch as he made his way up her body, paying extra attention to her neck and getting a lovely moan from her.

His lips finally claimed hers and she was so desperate for him that he felt like he might spill his load without being touched. How had he gotten so lucky? What on earth had he done to deserve such a beauty in his life that was the radiance she exuded? She was absolutely everything to him, the beginning and the end, completing him like the puzzle piece he’d spent his life searching for.

“What?” she asked shyly and he realised then he’d stopped kissing her and was just looking at her with those soft eyes he had, only for her. He felt heat bloom high on his cheeks, in the top of his ears and she noticed because she smiled warmly at him, her fingers caressing the back of his neck lovingly.

“I just… I love you. Never thought I’d have this,” he admitted quietly and her eyes softened, her smile widening.

“I love you too,” she fluttered a pretty smile at him, pulling him back down and massaging her lips against his.

He melted into her, his hand trailing down her body like some sacred object before it brushed her dripping cunt over her underwear. She gasped and he moaned, practically salivating over how needy her body was being. Part of him wanted to go all out, fuck her with his fingers, lick her pussy until she was a shaking mess, but he couldn’t. Seeing her in this pretty white lingerie, seeing her in that dress, seeing her with his ring on her finger, branding her as his… It was too much. He needed her so badly he was sure he’d die.

He hooked his finger in the string of her underwear, dragging it from where it lay over her cunt and arse, pulling it to the side to sit in the crease of her thigh. He gripped his aching cock, rubbing against her soaked heat and she let out a needy noise that had his blood running hot.

He sunk into her with a loud groan of relief, her own moan bleeding into his. He bottomed out deliciously and she had that pretty look on her face that told him he was filling her tight little cunt up to the brim, filling her up good. The hand beside her head was used for leverage, his other winding around her lower back to angle her better and keep her as close as possible before he started rutting into her.

If he wasnt half gone with lust, he might have felt sorry for the neighbours as his pretty little wife started keening, clawing at his shoulders as he fucked the soul out of her, trying to claim it for his own. The legs of the bed squeaked, the headboard slamming into the wall and the room was full of obscene sounds. Their moans, the sound of their skin slapping together as he fucked her like a man possessed.

He wanted to tell her she was his now, belonged to him in every way possible, wanted to tell her she wouldn't be leaving him ever, not if he had anything to do with it. He wanted to say a lot of things but his mouth could do little else but moan like a needy whore at the pleasure he felt. She was divine, being with her like this was a holy experience for him and it set every nerve ending in his body on fire.

His lips crashed to hers and the kiss was messy, desperate as they both clawed and pawed at each other, chasing a release that felt higher than any other. Her hand was on the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to her as she tangled her tongue with his and he could feel the cold metal of her ring on his skin, a reminder of how she willingly gave herself over to him today. They were no longer separate souls, two halves separated into two bodies. They were joined in union, tied together forever. He’d follow her even after death if it came to it.

He angled his hips just right, brushing that spot inside of her and pressing against her clit with his public bone and the noise she let out would make a porn star blush.

“Fuckin’ Christ…” he moaned, struggling to hold into his sanity as her cunt fluttered around him

“Don’t stop,” she choked out, her pale cheeks flushed red, irises nowhere in sight as her eyes were overtaken by her pupils. Her voice was pleading, bordering on desperate as she clung to him like she might float off the earth if she didn't.

He didn't stop, he kept his brutal pace, sweat trickling down his temple with the effort it was taking to not fill her up, not yet. He felt the moment she came, felt her pussy grip him so tightly he was worried she’d cut off his blood supply. It felt like she was trying to suck him inside of her, trying to consume him and he’d let her. He let out an embarrassingly loud moan, guttural and primal as his cock spurted thick ropes of cum inside of her, over and over. He felt like he'd never cum that much in his life.

They both lay there, panting and sweaty and he tried not to squash her as they came down from their highs. His lips found hers, the kiss tender, slow, loving. Her hand was on his cheek, soft and sweet and it made his chest feel tight. When he pulled away, she was radiant, glowing from the inside out as she blinked her pretty eyes at him.

“I’m the luckiest girl in the world,” she murmured and it made the tightness in his chest worse.

He couldn't fathom being something someone wanted, that someone would be lucky to have him. But he knew she meant it, down to her fucking bones and god if it didn’t feel good. If it didn't make him feel like he could do anything when she looked at him so lovingly. He felt like he could take on the world. He was the lucky one and he knew that, to have such a loving partner, now wife, to have someone with so much love inside of her, all to himself.

She’d raised herself, had been starved of love and basic human decency for most of her life and she’d turned out perfect. She’d raised herself and done it right and it made Simon feel like he could take on his own demons. If she could come out of the other side burning brighter than the sun, then so could he.

They would chase each other's demons away, make the shadows crawl back to wherever they came from. She lit him up from the inside out and it made him feel warm. Made him feel like he was actually living and not just existing. Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies and he refused to part from her now he found her.

#simon riley x oc #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x oc #ghost x oc

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wannabesewcrafty · 2 years

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Holding Pattern

Fandom: Debris (TV)

Notes: Fill for “95. Sending them songs that remind you of them.” From this list.

Finola sighed in contentment as she browsed through the racks of clothes in front of her. She had missed being able to shop in London. It was a weekday morning, and the store she was in was still quiet with most people being at work or school.

She felt her phone vibrate in her jacket pocket and pulled it out. It was a text from Bryan. He was somewhere on the East Coast back in America, so it was roughly 6 a.m. over there. He had sent her a greeting.

Hey. How are you?

I’m good. Out shopping for some clothes. It’s early where you are. Working?

Sort of. Waiting for a ride.

She knew that meant that something out of human control had delayed Orbital’s progress on whatever it was Bryan was involved with. She pictured him waiting alone in his motel room, fully dressed and sitting on his bed, the only sign of his restlessness being the speed at which his fingers tapped his messages to her.

And how did you know where I was? he asked now.

Her answer was simple. Tom.

He and Bryan had been partnered together while she was on her vacation, and Finola had asked their fellow agent to report their movements to her. She wasn’t surprised when Bryan didn’t inquire further.

I turned on the radio in my room, and it’s funny, but every song on this station is making me think of you.

She smiled at that. Missing me, are you? she wondered.

Case in point. “When I Look to the Sky - Train.”

I don’t know that one, but I’ll listen to it later. Promise.

OK, here’s the next one. “The Best Thing - Savage Garden.”

I’m flattered.

He didn’t respond right away, and she guessed he was waiting to hear what the next song would be. She had enough time to check for a black blouse in her size and not find one, before another text from Bryan came through.

“The Scientist - Coldplay.” I’m not making this up.

Finola’s laughter rang throughout the quiet department store, causing the few other shoppers and store clerks inside to turn their heads in the direction of the noise.

She decided it would be prudent to continue her conversation outside, where she could video call him.

When he answered, she heard the piano-laden chorus of “The Scientist” playing faintly in the background.

“I told you,” Bryan insisted as he swung his phone to bring the source of the music, his room’s clock radio, into view. As the song ended, he turned the phone’s camera back to himself and she saw him grin in the light of the rising sun outside his motel window.

“Bored?” she asked him.

“Well, I was ready to get started today when they told me and Tom that there would be a delay. I think he’s trying to go back to sleep.”

A thumping sounded on his wall.

“‘Trying’ being the operative word,” he added, failing to keep a smile entirely off his face.

“How many cups of coffee have you had?”

“Mmm, less than five,” he admitted, making her chuckle again.

Now, a knock sounded on his door, and she saw Bryan glance up and nod at whoever was there.

“This is it,” he told her, his face hardening with the words.

Finola, too, sobered. “Okay,” she said softly. “Be careful.”

He nodded again as he shouldered his duffel bag. “Bringing me anything back from London?”

“Cadbury’s chocolates. All sorts.”

“My favorite kind.”

He ended the call, and Finola stood there on the street, allowing herself to worry for one long moment before she took a deep breath and went to her phone’s music app. She was supposed to be on vacation, and she had a song to listen to.

#my fic #bryan x finola #debris nbc #brinola

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a-moth-to-the-light · 10 months

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Summer of K-pop Tag, 17-24

[introduction/full list of questions]

I've been on vacation in Virginia for the past week, and I got back last night! I had a great time, but I also had absolutely no energy left to Tumblr at the end of each day--so let's speedrun the questions I missed!

Also, I'm not sure how to feel about the OMG comeback--the title track reminds me so much of "Dun Dun Dance" that it's hard to say if I'll be bored of it in a week, or if it'll be stuck in my head permanently, just like "Dun Dun Dance" is! Also, poor Mimi--this isn't the first time I've been confused by the way her rapping is incorporated into OMG songs, to the point where it doesn't even feel like the songs were written to have her in them?? She deserves better than whatever was happening in the second verse, that's for sure...

The Vacation Soundtrack:

Sweet Summer Day -- Twice

Far -- SZA (reminds me of "good days" !!)

Rush -- Troye Sivan (this just gets better with every listen oh my GOD)

Sunshine Baby & Morning Pages -- The Japanese House, MUNA (the sound of soft morning sunshine)

Worlds Apart -- Bruce Springsteen (the soundtrack to my museum visits)

Into the Mystic -- Van Morrison (a song for sitting at the edge of the river)

Against The Wind -- Bob Seger (a song for the botanical gardens)

Moonlight Mile -- The Rolling Stones (a song for the washington dc metro)

Pinball Wizard -- Elton John (a song for the plane ride home)

Question(s) of the Day: what do you think of sunmi's “gashina”? do you still listen to it?

I don't mind it! I don't listen to it a lot--I'm sure it's hiding out in a few of my playlists, though, and I definitely wouldn't skip it if it came on shuffle!

sunmi: "pporappippam", "1/6", or "heart burn"?

"pporappippam", of course (which should be taken as very high praise, since I'm probably the world's biggest "1/6" fan!!). I don't even know how to explain how good "pporappippam" is? It just is. It's the perfect aesthetic pop song, dreamy and yet so memorable. (God, just hearing that opening again makes me feel so many feelings.)

what’s your favorite song from dreamcatcher’s summer holiday?

"Alldaylong". "Whistle" was my first favorite from this album, and I still love every track from it, but "Alldaylong" is such a perfect showcase for their vocals, a soft, slow song that impresses me by keeping my interest with really subtle touches, things I wouldn't even notice on an average listen.

what song sounds like a vacation?

"Double Trouble Couple" by Mamamoo. Historically, my approach to family vacations has been to huddle up with a book in whatever spots are available to me (hotel lobbies preferred, poolside also quite nice!) and see how much reading I can get done--so I decided to pick a song that sounds like reading on a sunny afternoon, fresh air and faint floral scents and fangirl rants to the wall.

what do you think of loona’s “flip that”? do you still listen to it?

I just kind of pretend this one doesn't exist--the concept was really cute, but the production managed to both underwhelm & irritate me, so I go to "Why Not?" for my fun summer Loona instead!

what about loona’s “pose”?

Oh I LOVED this song last summer. I haven't listened to it in months, though! I really should listen to it more--that beat drop still hits like a brick, and the feeling is awesome.

what’s your gfriend summer song?

"Fever". I realized, while thinking about this question, that I actually prefer GFRIEND songs in the winter--they're warm and cozy and often haunting, qualities which I always crave during the coldest, rainiest season! I'll forever associate "Fever" with the summer of 2020, though--it sounds like all these emotions that I think only a three-years-ago version of myself could fully understand, particularly the feeling that the whole world is wide open, just waiting for you, but it's also heavy with shadows, and as much as you crave to explore, you're not sure you actually want to know what lies ahead. I feel the echoes of them when I listen to it, so "Fever" doesn't really sound like this summer--and honestly, I'm glad to have that distance from the feelings "Fever" reminds me of--but it still sounds like summer to me.

what’s your favorite song from summer vibe by viviz?

"#Flashback". I enjoy "Love Love Love" as much as the next guy, but Viviz doing the city-pop-ish sound (like in "#Flashback" & "Overdrive") has become my favorite thing ever--their voices suit the style so well!!

what’s your iz*one summer song?

"Dreamlike". This song is fairy lights strung across a cabana, all the sweetest feelings on a breezy summer night. I don't usually like IZ*ONE's production very much (for how good the melodies of their songs are, they deserved better!!), but I think the soundscape is pretty magical in this one, minimalism at its finest :)

what do you think of yena’s “smartphone”? do you still listen to it?

I love it!! I like how it takes the ideas that make "Smiley" great and then turns the attitude up a few notches--yes, "Smiley" was iconic, but I think "Smartphone" is actually my favorite of the two. I don't listen to it all that much, though--the b-side "Lemon-Aid" stole my heart (house songs tend to do that to me, so it wasn't unexpected!), and I usually end up choosing it over "Smartphone".

what’s your favorite concept to see during the summer?

Anything with a beach! The water is soothing, the sunshine is bright, and those sunhats with the huge brims are awesome--plus beach-themed songs are usually super danceable, which is just my style!

chung ha: “love u”, “play”, or “demente”?

I'm a huge fan of all three of these, but "Love U" is my favorite right now! I hope we're past the tropical house is boring stuff by now, because Chung Ha has the perfect voice to pair with light, fluffy beats like these--she sounds so good all throughout "Love U"!

Tomorrow: SNSD!

#so fever is one of my favorite gfriend songs but it also scares the shit out of me and makes me really sad #so i don't listen to it much #and when i do its an EXPERIENCE #some songs are just like that!#summer of kpop 2023 #sunmi #dreamcatcher kpop #mamamoo #loona #gfriend #viviz #izone #izone yena #chung ha #long post long tags lol #tomorrow's will be normal again! maybe

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promenadewithme · 3 years

Note

May I please have prompt 62 with Simon Basset x female!reader?

Of course! Thank you for requesting!

Pairing: Simon Basset x Fem!Reader

Prompt: 62 (”She doesn’t belong with him” “Than who does she belong with?” “...with me.”)

Warnings: very slight angst with a happy ending. I'm sorry, but I just had to include him saying "I burn for you".

Word count: 1.7 k

Tell me if you want to join my tag list!

Oblivious

__________________________________________

Dearest Readers,

it has come to this author’s attention that Lady (y/n) (y/l/n) and Lord Benedict Bridgerton were seen promenading earlier this week. We all know Miss (y/l/n) to be a close friend to the Bridgertons, but will she officially become part of the family? Rest assured, if there is an engagement this author will find out.

Your’s Truly,

Lady Whistledown.

__________________________________________

YOUR P.O.V.

“This is absurd!” you exclaimed. “We were seen walking and now we’re to be married?”

“Calm down, (y/n). You know Whistledown is just a gossip, no one will remember this in a week.” said Benedict, putting down his sketchbook to look at you.

As soon as you woke, your lady’s maid showed the infamous society papers and you all but ran to the Bridgerton estate. Benedict was, as always, in the drawing room sketching away. He had already read the paper, but thought nothing of it. He was calm, so calm it irritated you.

“Ben, you don’t understand! If people think I’m engaged to you, they will stop courting me and, unless you plan on marrying me, that is a disaster! I have to marry this season!” at this point Benedict stood up and caressed your arm in an attempt of calming you down. To anyone else, this scene would be scandalous and incredibly improper, but you and Ben have known eachother since infancy and were the best of friends, so there was nothing romantic about the gesture.

“(y/n), my dear, what is this rush? We are still young, you can see so many more seasons before being considered a spinster. You are beautiful, smart, accomplished and any man in the ton would be more that lucky to have you as his wife. If they don’t see it, it’s their loss. As for the rumors chasing them away, I believe it will do quite the opposite.” he said with a smirk.

“Whatever do you mean? If they believe I am to be married, how would it attract them?” you asked, incredulous.

“Well, not to brag, but I am a Bridgerton. If they think you caught my eye, they’d be curious to know what’s so special about you. So, don’t fret. All will be well.” With one last reassuring squeeze, he turned around and sat back down. “Now, are you going to Lady Danbury’s ball this evening?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at his sketch, not quite contempt with the shading.

“Of course I am, it’s the biggest ball of the season!” you exclaimed, sitting down on the sofa in front of him.

“Thank the heavens! If my mother tries to push eligible ladies my way, I’ll run in your direction.” he said, still sketching. Benedict stopped for a second and looked up at you “I heard a certain Duke will be there.” he stated with a smirk. You rolled your eyes and said “We all know he is bewitched by Daphne, it does not matter if he will be there.”

“Of course it matters, you are in love with the man! And, to be completely honest, I don’t believe it is my sister who his heart belongs to. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, it’s the same way Colin looks at maps or Eloise looks at books.” He was leaning forward now, elbows on his knees, hands loosely clasped.

“Like I’m an object?” you said, kidding of course and dying to change the subject. You had the tendency to get your hopes up and the last thing you wanted was to believe your friend and end up with a broken heart.

“Like you hung the moon and the stars.” he had a serious expression and your heart skipped a beat with the thought that Simon would ever look at you that way, but you knew it would never happen. So you waved your hand, smiled and said “I think all the charcoal and paint is going straight to your brain, Mr. Bridgerton. I expect to see your hands all clean if you are to dance with me to trick your poor mama.” Standing up, you curtsied mockingly and said your goodbyes before walking out the door.

SIMON'S P.O.V.

Simon woke with news from Lady Whistledown. He was never one to believe in gossip, but Daphne was always talking about the society papers during their fake courting, so his curiosity got the best of him. What he did not expect was to read (y/n)'s name.

He had sworn to himself that he would never marry, but arriving at the beginning of the season he couldn't help but be smitten by you. He tried to fight it, but every time you smiled he saw himself smiling along, every time you wore his favourite colour he forgot how to breathe, and every time he saw you with Benedict Bridgerton he couldn't control his jealousy.

He confided in Daphne about it and she guaranteed (y/n) and the second Bridgerton son were just close friends, but Lady Whistledown seems to think differently. To be married? Was this true? If so, he knew it was for the best. He would be able to keep his promise to himself, but he could not help the ache in his heart as he dressed for the day.

(Y/N)'S P.O.V.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, pleased with the outcome. Your lady's maid had weaved delicate flowers in your hair, that was pulled up loosely and you wore your newest dress, long white gloves and the family diamonds. Madame Delacroix really outdid herself this time. It was your favourite colour, with princess sleeves, only slightly puffed, and had embroidered tulle at the hem and bottom part of the skirt. You looked truly beautiful.

"(y/n), it's time to-" your mother paused at the door and looked at you. She smiled softly at your reflection. "You look so beautiful, my dear... Do you think a certain Lord might like it too?" she said smiling softly.

"It is not the Lord's attention I want, mama. You know Ben is just a friend" you said, playing with the skirt of your dress.

"I know, sweetheart, I just don't want you do get hurt. All I want is for you to be happy and what better than to marry your best friend?" she hugged you from behind and kissed your cheek, still looking at your reflection.

"To marry the one you love..."

SIMON'S P.O.V.

"You really have outdone yourself, Lady Danbury." Simon said, looking down at the woman who practically raised him. She was wearing a white gown, a tiara and long white gloves, radiant as always, leaning on her cane.

"I always do, my boy. Now, look at that! Your beloved has arrived." she declared with a small smirk.

"I have already spoken to Daphne" he said, nodding in the Bridgerton family direction, however his heart was beating out of his chest as he turned to look at (y/n). It seemed impossible, but she was even more beautiful than the last time he saw her. Simon looked away before he was caught staring.

"We both know I'm not speaking of the Bridgerton girl. You are not as discreet in your brooding as you like to think." he looked at you again, but you were already speaking to Benedict, who was leading you to the dance floor. "What is bothering you, boy?"

Simon stared at the pair dancing for a moment before responding. "She does not belong with him."

"Than who does she belong with?" (y/n) was laughing at something Benedict said and Simon could not bare the view anymore.

"...With me." he mumbled before heading to the gardens.

(Y/N)'S P.O.V.

The song finished and you curtsied, smiling at your best friend. The smile slowly turned into a frown as you saw Simon walking out, into the gardens.

"Go after him." Benedict whispered.

"What? We would be unchaperoned, it would be scandalous!" you answered, only loud enough for him to hear.

"I'll stand at the door and make sure no one sees. Go!" you smiled and wished you could hug you best friend. "Thank you, Ben." you said as you went into the garden after the man you love. The weather was pleasant and the garden was completely empty, with only the Duke passing back and forth close to the bushes.

"Simon?" he stopped in his tracks, looking surprised as he gazed back at you and stepped closer.

"What are you doing here, if we were to be caught unchaperoned yo-" you stopped the nervous man by saying "Benedict is at the door, no one will see."

"Of course he is." he mumbled, but you heard.

"What does that mean?" you asked, not understanding his sudden dislike for the lord.

"It means he is always around, always with you." he spat out.

"Well, he is my best friend." you could not believe what he was saying. "What do you have against him?" you questioned.

"Are you truly to be married?" he demanded, ignoring your question.

"What?" you replied, completely incredulous.

"Please don't." he murmured.

"Simon, I-" you tried to answer but he cut you off.

"Before you say anything, please listen to me. Don't marry him, please." he paused for a second, adjusting his posture. "I love you. You..." he shook his head. "You don't even know what you do to me. Ever since I can remember, I have promised myself I would never fall victim to love, would never marry, would not let my family name carry on. Then came you."

Simon took a step closer and continued to speak. "You changed my plans, awoke desires I never knew I had, you have stolen my heart and my soul... I burn for you." he took your gloved hands in his, caressing them softly. "Don't marry him, marry me." he gazed into your eyes, waiting your answer.

"Simon... It was never my plan to marry Benedict, I was completely honest when I said he is nothing but a friend." you smiled up at him before saying "you are the one I love, always have been."

Simon grinned before pulling you into a passionate kiss, one hand on your back and the other behind your neck. It was a good thing Benedict was at the door, if anyone saw this scene and the rumours reached Lady Whistledown... You didn't even want to think about the ruin it would bring upon your family.

When you and Simon finally parted you managed to mumble "We truly have been oblivious, haven't we? I thought you were in love with Daphne." he chuckled.

"And I thought you to be with Benedict. Good thing you followed me out here, my love." he said, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.

"From now on, it's all I'll ever do."

#simon basset #simon basset x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine #simon basset fanfiction #simon basset x (y/n)#simon basset x y/n

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fangirlings-things · 3 years

Text

— Lost Without You I

anon said: hey! could you please write a song fic with anthony bridgerton, I don't have any specific song in mind, but just some angst would be perfect because you write it soooo beautifully :') hope this is ok, kissess

A/N: hey, love!! I faced this as somewhat as a challenge and it was quite amazing to write!! thank you sooo much for your words, I sincerely hope you like this 💖

*this is supposed to have two parts, so if you guys like it and want the rest, please let me know your thoughts 🥰 lots of love

TAG LIST: @for-bebbanburg ; @venusflwer ; @avrilstaro || GIF CREDIT: @fifty5hades

This is based in Freya Ridings song, Lost Without you

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x female reader

Word count: 6.3K

Summary: One would need to be Lady Whistledown to know about the ever existent bond between the eldest Bridgerton son, Anthony, and Lady (Y/N) Kerrington. They made a good work at hiding their intentions even from their own families. According to their plan, when the Miss came to age, they would marry each other quite fastly, since they had been courting one another through the entirety of their lives. (Y/N) Kerrington thought so too, but the Viscount's actions and decisions, changed it all.

[ I ]

“Have you two gone completely mad?”

Turning around, within the heavy rain and through the drops of water that kept falling from the sky and soaked your whole body, seeming to permanently attach your dress to your skin, you saw Anthony Bridgerton standing at the back door of his own house, protected by the rain.

He had his forehead frowned in confusion as he stared at you and his sister, Daphne, whom stood by your side at the Bridgerton’s garden. His hair was a bit of a mess, like he had been sleeping recently and his hands were on his waist. His eyes, deep brown eyes that made him look a lot older than he really was by the intensity they carried, were fixed upon you.

“Join us, brother!” Daphne invited, laughing as she turned her face upwards and enjoyed the feel of the rain directly on her features. Her arms were open alongside her body, as she embraced the rain. That was something you both liked doing together, ever since your early childhood days.

“No, I will not sister and you two really should get out of there before you fall ill!” her older brother replied and the tangible worry in his voice made you smile more largely than you did before.

“It could be fun, Anthony!” you said to him and with a spark of joy, did not fail to notice how he squeezed his lips on a thin line for a moment at hearing you call him by his first name. Such thing could be seen as a lack of manners that being if, you had not known each other through the entirety of your lives, which allowed you to comfortable around every single member of the Bridgerton family.

Your family, the Kerrington’s, had been the Bridgerton’s neighbor even before you had been born. Both families, that had a similar amount of money and same high position in society, had always been closely bond to one another. You had grown up with Daphne as your best friend, frequenting her house or she yours almost every single day. Her siblings had always been nice to you and you loved them all as if they were your own siblings.

But not Anthony.

Oh no, Anthony was a completely different thing.

There was nothing brotherly in the way you thought of him and such thoughts were only intensified by some situations you found yourself in like this very one, where he seemed to be genuinely considering your words after having just denied his sister’s. Little actions that instigated your fantasies.

“If I do, only for a moment, will you come back to the house with me afterwards?” he questioned, ever so serious, looking from you to his sister and then back at you.

You looked at Daphne who had turned her head back down and as soon as she smiled mischievously at you and raised her eyebrows, you turned back to Anthony. “We swear!”

Anthony nodded his head in agreement and then sighted heavily. His eyes went to the dark sky for a few moments, the entirety of it made of grey clouds filled with drops of water that had not yet fallen. You watched with the most absolute attention as he mumbled something to himself under his breath before finally stepping away from the house’s protection and starting to make his way towards you both.

When he reached you and Daphne, his hair was already soaked with water and was attached to his forehead. Drops of water ran down his handsome face. His white shirt was now as good as nothing, the details of his arms and chest now exposed to your wanting eyes. “Is it enough?”

“You did not have fun yet” Daphne argued immediately and with the same smile as before on her lips, kicked a puddle of water, splashing quite some in his already wet pants. The angry expression on his face made her laugh loudly her unique laugh.

You laughed also, and then found his gaze landing on yours once more. “Are you on her side, (Y/N)?” a drop of water right in that moment ran down his nose and fell in the grass. He stood close, closely than you had noticed before. Just two steps, and you could have touched his chest.

As you lost yourself in such a tempting and inappropriate thought, Lady Bridgerton appeared on the back door, in the exact same spot Anthony had been before, her mouth hanging open in shock for moment as she saw what has occurring on her own garden. “What is happening? Anthony Bridgerton! You allowed your sister and Miss (Y/N) to such recklessness?” Anthony did not even turn around at hearing his mother’s angry voice, just sighted once again and looked at Daphne when she laughed hard like before. “Come inside right now, the three of you, before you fall ill!”

“My exact same words” Anthony said, eyes on the grass, as you three obediently walked back to the inside of the Bridgerton’s house.

“Sorry to get you in trouble, brother” Daphne said, but both her tone and expression made it clear that she had not even a bit of regret. When reaching the back door, she was the first one to rush inside and disappear in the corridors after getting a blanket from her mother, leaving a trail of water behind her.

“I apologize, Anthony” you said, smile having completely faded away now. Eyes on the floor because you refused to look him in the eye. You took no pleasure in causing him any kind of trouble, especially with his mother, whom now had stepped away to get another two blankets.

Anthony did realize your afflictions, because he instantly replied. “All is well, (Y/N), do not worry” the softness of his tone made you raise your eyes. You were surprised to find him smiling at you. “By the end of the night, my mother will have forgiven me already”

You smiled because of the confidence on his voice. “I am glad”

You both went silent then, the heavy rain outside continuing to fall and the distant thunders seeming to be as loud as ever. With your eyes locked in one another’s, none of you said a thing. It was a peaceful moment, an intimate one. Shared by just the two of you.

“Oh, my dear, you must be freezing!” Lady Violet Bridgerton came back with two other blankets and carefully placed one around your shoulders, wrapping you in it and without even knowing, ruining one of the best moments you could think of. “What will your mother think of my hospitality if she finds out what has happened in my own garden! Come, Daphne will borrow you a dress for the evening” as she made you walk away after having given the other blanket to Anthony, you could feel his gaze burning your back.

Oh, how you wished to turn back around and stare into his eyes in peaceful silence once more.

[ II ]

“Are you nervous about the next season?” Daphne asked as she looked at you from the couch she sat in, in one of the many rooms in the Bridgerton’s house.

Having taken your place in the very couch that faced hers, you sighted. “Of course” you looked down at your hands, that were joined in your lap. “We are to be wed in the next season already. How could I not be” a pure nervous laugh escaped your mouth as you admitted so. In hopes that no one would see, by the corner of your eye, you looked over at Anthony, who was sitting at a small table, reading a book. He was always your dream when you thought of marriage.

“You should not worry too much, (Y/N)” Benedict, who had been playing with Gregory for the past twenty minutes, came to sit by your side in a relaxed position. “You will have many suitors, I am sure. Daphne, though…” the unfinished sentence had the desired effect, because Daphne opened her mouth with an offended expression and you laughed with Benedict. In your own mind, you thanked him for being so good and helping to ease some of your tension.

“While (Y/N) marries a gentleman, Daphne will find herself being courted by an old man with no hair left in his head” Colin joined the fun and Daphne’s only response was to roll her eyes and cross her arms over her chest. Benedict though, once again laughed loudly.

“Benedict and Colin Bridgerton, stop making fun of your sister!” Lady Bridgerton said from her spot at the other side of the room as she walked towards your small group. Her expression though betrayed her tone, because she had a small pleased smile on her lips. “I am sure both of them will find a very good match and will be happily wed by the end of the next season, with gentlemens of the highest esteem”

"I hope so, mama" Daphne said truly, smiling at her mother. In the same moment, the sound of a chair being dragged against the floor caught everyone's attention and you all looked in that direction in time to see Anthony storming out the room. You frowned as you wondered what had happened, concern filling your being before you could even control your own emotions.

Not wanting to cause a fush about it, since all the others had apparently ignored his departure as something ordinary, you waited a few minutes in which you pretended to hear the words spoken by Benedict and his mother before you excused yourself and once out in the corridors, started to look for Anthony.

You found him on the library, his face was turned away from you but you could quite well imagine his mood by whatever it was that afflicted him, for the way he moved, tense and yet fast. That was not like Anthony Bridgerton at all.

"Anthony?" you called while entering the room, unsure if you should even disturb him in such time. He had gone away with the clear intention of being alone but still... you could not help it. You had to know he was well.

The sound of your voice made him turn around in the exact same instant and he went to you with a serious expression on his features, so serious it only served to increase your concern. "Anthony, what is—" before you could even finish, he walked past you and for a second you thought he was going to leave but then, he surprised you by closing the door and shuting you both inside. Alone. His expression did not change at all. You stared at him like was crazy. "Anthony, what are you doing? If your mother finds out we are in here alone she will never allow me into your house again!"

And you could not even bare that thought. Yes, Lady Violet was a nice woman, she had never objected you and Daphne at playing with the boys when you were children and as you grown up, she found it pleasing that all of you enjoyed each other's company so much but still, now that you were practically of age to marry, to be without a chaperone in a closed room with a man who was not from your family, it was a scandal. Even if that man was the one you loved with all your heart and had known since forever.

"(Y/N)" he said, taking a deep breath and walking towards you, ignoring your previous words like they meant nothing. He clearly did not see the danger. He stopped a mere step away, looking into your eyes with such meaning you suddenly found it difficult to breathe. His eyes, were as troubled as a storm day. It confused you. "I—" he stopped, took anothet deep breath, looked at his feet. Then he raised his eyes to yours again with renewed determination. "I want to—" again, he seemed to lack the words to finish his thought and clearly frustrated, looked away once more, this time at a point above your head.

All of his actions and words made no sense at all to you and frankly, you started to wonder if he was not drunk, even though you had not seen him drinking. "Anthony, you are concerning me" you said simply, and that statement made in a low, careful tone seemed to be enough to make him snap out of whatever it was that was holding him back.

"I want you to make me a promise, (Y/N)" you opened your mouth to ask him what he meant by that but he was quicker and shockingly taking your hands in his as he kept staring into your eyes, answered to your unspoken question. "I want you to promise me that if I propose to you, you will at least perhaps consider marrying me"

All air left your lungs. Surely, you had heard it wrong. There was no way Anthony Bridgerton, your ever being passion, had just expressed his intentions of proposing to you in the future. That could not be true. Dreams are not realized just like that.

"A-Anthony..." you began, heart pounding in your chest like never before.

The Bridgerton mistook your surprise by hesitation and immediately let go of your hands and stepped back, creating some distance between you both. "I apologize for being so forward. I did not mean to make you uncomfortable"

"Uncomfortable? Anthony, I do not believe I have ever been happier!" as it was his turn to frown in confusion, you were the one who approached him and smiled brightly while looking into his eyes. "I promise, of course! I want to marry you, Anthony. I really do" you looked down and slowly, joined your hands together like he had done before. "Deep down, I believed you had already noticed my affection towards you"

"It crossed my mind once or twice, but I thought it was just my mind fooling me. I dared not to believe you felt the same way I did" he chuckled, happily. You thought you had never seen him with a smile as big as that one on his face. "Hearing my brothers and mother talking about you marrying someone else in there, I could not stand it" he admitted, and a glimpse of shame seemed to cross his features for a moment. "In the next season, when you will be presented in society, I will propose to you. And if you desire to, we will get married"

Trying to control your own happiness, that was immesurable because everything seemed to be perfect, you nodded your head in agreement. "We will get married"

[ III ]

The months were passing too fast. Already, you had only a few months before the season in which you would be presented in society and it would be expected of you to be well married soon.

I will marry Anthony, you thought to yourself with a smile on your face as you enjoyed the peace and quiet of your bedroom for a while. Staring at the ceiling above your head, you had no doubt that everything would work out just fine.

If he was a man of no fortune, your father and mother (your mother especially) would for certain object to your union. But he was Bridgerton, their status and wealth were as high as your own if not bigger and so, there would absolutely be no arguing. You dared to say, she would even be thrilled by the fact that you were going to marry the one day to be Viscount.

Nothing could go wrong, you thought to yourself while smiling still. He loved you. Just as you loved him. With the same intensity and amount of desire, you had seen it in his eyes when he had spoken his mind in the Bridgerton library. You would be happy together, really happy.

Knocks on the door got your attention. "Sister, mind if I come in?"

Immediately in surprise, you sat up and laughing softly because of the joy that hearing his voice brought you, spoke. "Do come in!"

The door was opened then, and you watched as your brother slipped inside of your room, smiling down at you with a warm smile. Without saying a word he opened his arms and you without a moment of hesitation, threw yourself in his arms and hugged him tightly. "I have missed you too, dear" he said with a laugh escaping his mouth.

Only after several moments you stepped back, to be able to really look at him. Thomas Kerrington, your older brother, was smiling as he looked at you. He wore his uniform, and he looked beautiful in it. The pride of the family, the youngest soldier ever made Coronel because of his courage and whom recieved the command of complete troops of soldiers only weeks later. Since he had joined the Royal Army, you barely saw him twice a year. He was too valuable to be away from action often and you understood that but still, you missed your brother.

"How long will you be staying?" you asked while pulling him towards your bed by the hand, and making him sit down with you.

"Just a couple of days" he answered, smile fading a bit just as you did. Thomas still squeezed your hand in his. "My regiment is being moved and as we are going to be facing hard months soon, I thought it would be nice to see my family" he watched your eyes for a few moments and then, opened a bright smile again and put the sadness aside, like it was typical of Thomas. He always knew how to bring happiness into a room. "Are you excited for the next season?" the young Coronel was not married himself. Having since very soon been involved in the Army's business and interests, court a wife had not been a priority to him and still was not.

"I am, actually" you admitted, looking down at your joined hands as all your thoughts about Anthony and the prospect of marrying him came rushing back into your mind. You and Thomas had always been close, really close. He was a incredible brother who loved his little sister very much and was always there for her. The thought of confiding in someone seemed nice, and whom could be better to do that with than your brother? "I already know who I want to marry, brother"

"Is that so?" raising your eyes to meet his, you saw that he was still smiling. "And is he a good man?" you nodded your head, and Thomas inspected your eyes with his. "Are you sure he will make you happy, sister?"

"I have no doubt" you replied, confident.

Thomas chuckled by your certainty. "Very well then, I guess I have no reason to object to such union" he passed one of his arms around your shoulders and brought you close to him, so you would lay your head on his shoulder. It was so good, to have him there in that moment. "Will you tell me his name, perhaps?"

You thought about it for a moment. He was your brother, you were sure he would not tell anyone. And even though he and Anthony had never been very close friends, they always got along well. But you should not, not when you and Anthony had come into an agreement of keeping it a secret. At least for now. "Come back during the season and, perhaps, you will get here in time to our wedding" you said and the sound of Thomas laugh filled the bedroom.

"Does it have a date already?" accompanying him in laughter, you appreciated your brother's presence. Very much.

[ IV ]

"It does sound like an interest book" you told Eloise with honesty, after having just read some pages of the book she had been reading herself and after some discussion about the quality of it with Daphne, asked you to give an opinion on it.

"Thank you, (Y/N)" Eloise smiled brightly at you and then extended the smile towards Daphne, who sitting on the couch across from you two, rolled her eyes because you had taken her sister's side. "At least you know how to appreciate a good book"

"Perhaps you should consider respecting my opinion, Eloise" Daphne told her younger sibling, with a bit of annoyance in her voice. Those two were always bickering with each other and you, as the oldest best friend, was always around to witness it.

"I do respect your opinion, sister, I simply think that it is not a wise one" you gave the book back to the younger Bridgerton while she said so.

Daphne seemed to be ready to give her a proper reply when Anthony entered the room. His eyes met yours and he smiled tenderly at you for a moment before looking at his sisters. "Have you both seen mother and father?"

"They went to accompany the Kerrington's to the market" Daphne said, referring to your parents, and you nodded in agreement.

"Oh, well" he placed his hands on his waist and sighted. "I shall wait for them to return, then"

"Continuing to plan your travel, brother?" Eloise asked, opening the book back to the page in which she had stopped reading.

"Travel?" you could not stop yourself before echoing the word, surprise quickly taking a hold of you. Your eyes went to Anthony instantly and by the expression on his face, you saw that he was not pleased with Eloise for having said so much.

"Anthony has decided he is going to travel for a while, explore the world alone and live some adventures perhaps" Daphne said, also turning around to look at her brother. "Colin will not stop talking about how much he wants to do the same one day"

"Oh, I see" it took all you had to maintain a natural, comfortable expression on your face. He was going to travel. Just a few months before the season in which you should be married. How long would he stay away? When would he return? Would he ever? All of those thoughts filled your mind and made your heartbeat get faster and faster. You dared not to say anything. No one knew about your intentions to marry one another, and you had agreed to keep it in that way.

Anthony, knowing you so well, clearly saw through your contained emotion. "I just remembered, (Y/N)! Benedict is asking for your opinion in one of his latest sketches, will you accompany me?" it was a lie. You could see that it was, even though his sisters did not see through the fake smile on his face.

Forcing a smile and nodding in agreement briefly, you got up, telling Daphne you would be right back, to which she agreed. After that, you followed Anthony out of the room and to one of the corridors close to the kitchen, where there was no one else by that time. Anthony stopped there, turned around to look at you and sighted heavily because of your sad expression. "I did not mean for you to find out like that"

You raised your eyes to meet his at that, in pure disbelief. "And how was I supposed to find out? Through Daphne, when you had already left?"

"I was going to tell you tomorrow, at dinner" he said in a rush, looking around after a moment to make sure there was absolutely no one there. He took the time to make sure his voice was low as he spoke. "Nothing has changed, (Y/N). I will marry you. This travel, it will take two months, maybe a bit more but nothing great. The season is in three months. I will be back in time, I promise"

You stared into his eyes deeply, worry filling your expression still. Under your inspection, he seemed so genuine and decided. It felt like he had everything planned, had thought everything through. "Are you sure this is what you want?" you asked then, not thinking of yourself, but of him. Travels made alone could be dangerous. And if something happened to him... you did not even wanted to consider that idea.

"I am, (Y/N)" he stepped even closer to you and held your hands, like he had a habit of to. You did like the familiarity of that simple touch. "I want to marry you, but first, I would like to see the world. Later, I shall be all yours"

The honesty in his voice made you smile, emotion was so strong your eyes went blurry with tears. "Then you must go. Do as you desire and when you get back, I will be eager to know all about what you have seen"

Anthony smiled. Letting go of one of your hands and bringing it to cup your face, he sighted. "You are the goodest person I have ever known"

You smiled, leaning into his touch.

Before, you had been nervous by the arrival of the social season. Now, all you wanted was for it to come quickly. As quickly as possible.

[ V ]

"If I may say, you look astonishing tonight, Lady Kerrington" Lord Edwards said, with a polite smile on his lips after having just given you a glass of a drink he had gotten from the Queen's table.

The ball had begun sometime around an hour before. The ball thrown by the Queen herlself that declared opened the social season. You were now, officially able to be courted and expected to be married by the end of it, if you had success. You had gone with your mother and father and as they had stepped away to talk to some friends, you had been left alone in the room and seeing the opportunity, Lord Edwards had approached you.

He was a gentleman, Lord Edwards. He was young, handsome, quite wealthy and his manners were flattering. By a young Lady's, like yourself, point of view, he should be the perfect husband. But not for you.

Because he was not Anthony.

Just to think of his name, it brought back the pain of missing him. Since the day in which he left for his travel, you had not seen him again. Of course, his journey had been cut short because his father, the Viscount Bridgerton, had died tragically all of the sudden, at a young age. It made Anthony have to make the arrangements to return sooner than expected.

And he did. A month and a half after he had parted, he was forced to return because he was now, the Viscount. As the eldest son, he had the responsibility of being there for his family, especially in such a tragic time.

Until this very day, you had not seen him since his return. As Daphne's best friend, you were still always in the Bridgerton residence, after her father's death even more, because you provided the young Lady the comfort she needed. There, you only caught glimpes of him once or twice, a rushed greeting that ended up with him leaving the room seconds later.

You did not blame him for it, of course not. His life had changed so much and so suddenly that it would be a challenge for everyone in his position. He should concentrate in the matters of importance for his family, it was needed. You would not bother him with affairs that were not urgent at the time. No, everything was set, also. He would propose sometime after doing some courting in the season, and you two would get happily married. And that would be it.

Looking around the ballroom, everytime the doors were opened you would look, expecting to see Daphne arrive. It would be nice to have a friend in the same situation you were in. As Lord Edwards went on in a conversation about his great interest in social events, you looked down at your dress. It was a beautiful blue dress, made with soft fabric. The little details here and there made it even more beautiful. Part of your hair had been pulled up and placed there delicately while leaving the rest of strands released freely, in a hair style that you did not fail to notice, got quite some attention from some of the other young Ladys.

Lord Edwards had just began his affirmation of how much he enjoyed the city rather than the country, when the doors were again opened and this time when you looked, your expectations were indeed achieved.

Daphne had just arrived. She looked absolutely gorgeous, making you smile instantly. At her right side stood her mother, Lady Bridgerton, ever an elegant woman and at her left side, stood Anthony.

Oh, the way your pulse accelerated at the sight of him. He was absolutely handsome, wearing the most formal clothes he had. His dark hair was as always that elegant mess you never got enough of. His eyes were inspecting the room, you smiled thinking that perhaps, he could be looking for you.

"Will you excuse me, Lord Edwards?" you said suddenly to the Lord, interrupting him in the middle of a sentence and he, a bit sad and yet completely polite, just nodded his head and bid you farewell.

You found yourself walking towards the small Bridgerton group, feet seeming to carry you there on their own even though you did know it would be reasonable to wait. But no, you could not help it.

"(Y/N) you look absolutely gorgeous!" Daphne exclaimed when she saw you, smiling as you stopped right in front of her. "Look, Mama, how beautiful she is!" you felt your cheeks get a bit red under your friend's compliments and the fact that you knew, that Anthony was hearing them and beside her, inspected you with his eyes also.

"My Lady Kerrington, how your mother must be proud of having such a lovely daughter!" Lady Bridgerton said, and that filled you with joy.

"I am sure you should be the one who is proud, Lady Bridgerton, because I have no doubt in my mind that Daphne will be the diamond of the season" your friend smiled as she made sense to your words and then, as you fell silent for a moment, you turned to her left to look at Anthony, whom had stayed silent until them. As your eyes met, it was as if sparks were flying all around you. "Viscount Bridgerton"

"Lady Kerrington" he replied. The kind of smile you expected to see in his features was not there. His eyes did not stare at you for a long while before he looked away. That was unsual. Before you could make up some conversation, a Lord came closer and asked Daphne for a dance. You watched with a smile as he stepped away with the man and then, as Lady Bridgerton came into a conversation with Lady Danbury, Anthony surprised you by stepping closer to you. "Lady Kerrington, mind if we have a word?"

"Of—" you did not even finished before he had already began to walk away from the doors, where the greatest amount of people were gathered around. Frowning, you rushed as graciously as you could after him, stopping only to leave your glass, that had been given to you by Lord Edwards, on a table.

Anthony only stopped walking when you were both close to one of the walls of the room, just enough away from others so no one could hear what you spoke about or if they did, would not pay much attention to it. Facing each other, after so long, it felt amazingly good. "It is nice to see you, (Y/N)" his voice was low, so no one would hear him call you by your first name.

You smiled, eyes meeting in a way that made your heart beat even faster, which you did not think was quite possible. "It is nice to see you too, Anthony" your voice was as low as he was. "I have missed—"

"I have to tell you something, (Y/N)" he cut you off shortly, eyes not on yours them. There was something in Anthony that did not seem like him at all. His jaw was clenched, his body was all uptight. He seemed more distant to you now than he had ever been in his travel on the other side of the world.

"Very well" you took a moment to be able to get those words out, because all of your happiness had already began to slip away. Surely, there were bad news coming ahead. The way he looked... or even better, did not look at you, that could not mean nothing good. "What is it?"

Anthony did not speak quite instantly. He looked around the room for a while, then took a deep breath. "I can not marry you, (Y/N)"

That felt like a punch. Right to your stomach, making you sick and your head spin like you had suddenly been privated from air itself. And even though you had to fight back the tears of confusion that dared to fall from your eyes, Anthony did not seem to share your emotion at all. He looked stern, decided.

"W-what happened?" you asked, voice trembling and honestly one string away from failing completely. He did not say anything. You were the one to take a deep breath then. "Anthony, look me in the eye" and only then he did. He looked right at you and you felt your heart break in a million pieces. "I understand if because of your father and your new title, you do not find marriage the most important thing right now. I really understand. You must have enough duties and responsibilities at the moment. But there is no problem. I will wait for you, Anthony. I will—"

"I do not want you to wait for me, (Y/N)" Anthony's tone was decisive. "It has nothing to do with my father or my responsibilities"

Your confusion only grew more and more and what you thought would be an amazing evening, was quickly revealing itself to be an awful one. "Then what—"

"I have someone else" he said and before you could even take in that information, he went on with his narrative. "I met her after I came back from my travel, in the occasion of my father's death. I have been with her ever since. I was with her before I came here today. I have been avoiding you all this time, because I did not have the courage to tell you about this. But I figured that this could no longer be postponed"

Your vision was so blurry you could not even see his face clearly. He had someone else. He did not want to marry you. "You said you loved me" were the words you spoke. You hoped no one was looking at you two because if they were, you had no doubt about how crushed you looked.

That simple phrase seemed to finally get a reaction from Anthony. He looked away from you for another moment, took another deep breath. And then, looked back into your eyes. "I am sorry, (Y/N). But she is the one that I truly love" and even though he showed a small reaction then, it was not even close to the amount required to such matter. He was dealing with you as if you were a simple affair that had to be taken care of. He had indeed become the Viscount, after all.

You swallowed the knot in your throat, spent countless silent moments trying to fight back the tears. And you stared into Anthony's eyes, and made him see just how much you loved him. Just how much he had hurt you. "I wish you happiness, Viscount Bridgerton"

You saw that Anthony swallowed dry. "(Y/N)..."

But you did not stay to hear what he had to say. You turned around and without being able to contain yourself made a run to the door, attracting everyone's attention to you. Tears fell from your eyes and you were so desoriented that you ran right into someone's chest. Cleaning the tears away with your hands, you met Lord Edwards eyes. "Lady Kerrington, are you well?" Without answering him, you continued to run to the door and only stopped when you felt the cold air of the night on your skin.

You cried, hurt by a man who had just made clear he did not want to marry you. He did not want you at all. You wanted to leave. You wanted to lock yourself in your bedroom and not get out anytime soon. Maybe never.

But most of all, what you really wanted but could not have, was your older brother. The comfort only he could give you in that moment.

[ VI ]

Dear readers,

From this author's perspective, after last night's ball, this social season looks quite promising. Young Ladies were presented into society in search of husbands, mothers have inspected their suitors and the Queen watched it all from her throne, seeming entertained. The night was filled with courting and dances, really a magical night for all the debutantes'.

It came to this author's ears though, that the night was not so magical for everyone. It seems that the young Lady Kerrington and Viscount Bridgerton were seen sharing a very meaningful conversation before she left the event in tears. What did they say to each other, is the question that remains. More specifically, what could the Viscount have said that made the young Lady feel so heartbroken?

Let us be attentive to the upcoming events, dear readers. If I learn to know something interesting in the future, and I always do, you all will the be the ones I share the not so secret with.

This author was a feeling, that many more scandals are yet to come.

Lady Whistledown

#imagine #x reader #fanfic #imagines #one shot #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton one shot #anthony bridgerton #anthony x reader #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton fanfic #anthony bridgerton one shot

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mountswhore · 3 years

Text

𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭 — mason mount

if you have any requests, just ask! i’m all ears. if you wanna know who i write for, check this post.

admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

Mason adores everything about you. But to be particular, he adores your compassion. Even before you guys had gotten together, and were just friends of friends at a party, he’d watch you take care of some of his teammates who’d had a little too much to drink. You’d be jumping between getting to know Mason and assisting someone to the bathroom to throw up. It was hard for him to hold back a giggle as he saw you take your heels off, excuse yourself politely and run after a drunken Grealish.

body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

Again, he loves everything about you. But if he had to choose, it’d be your eyes. They’re the first things he notices when he comes home from an away game, full to the brim with tears as you shout out how much you missed him. In the middle of a sleepless night, when the outside lighting makes your shiny eyes visible, he’d get lost in them. During a match, whether it be for the National team or Chelsea, the second he is on the pitch he would notice you close to the goal, in perfect view to watch him score. They’re what he looks into just before he kisses you, and he melts watching your eyes as you speak to a friend or family member, seeing them talk with your mouth.

cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

Mason’s favourite pastime is cuddling, outside of his career, of course. He’ll get home from training and you’ll be cozied up on the couch, practically inviting him into your warmth. He enjoys the cuddles with you on top of him, your head in his neck and his arms tightly around your back. But he loves laying his head on your stomach, smoothing his hand over your thighs as you massage his shoulders lightly. He loves cuddling you, but he’s a sucker for being cuddled. It’s a trick to get him to doze off pretty quickly, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

He’s a busy man, but when it came down to seeing you and wanting you, he made time. He wanted only the best for you, so it was a fancy restaurant, being driven around in his nice sports car, treating you to whatever you wanted. He’d soon come to realise that both of yours ideal date is ordering a Chinese, playing a few fifa matches, and watching a comedy together.

emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

Due to your compassion, you’d often spot when Mason was feeling down, angry, or just upset. So keeping it from you rendered useless. Now, if he’s ever in a shit mood, for any reason, he’ll find you and talk to you about it. You always end up making him feel better too, and giving him a different perspective on it. He couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend.

family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

If there was one thing Mason will not shut up about, it’s having children. Even his mates tell him to have a day off. You secretly find it cute, that he’s so ready to become a father and thinks of you as a suitable mother to his children. But Mason knows you’re not ready, with his career at the height it is right now and your age, you think kids aren’t on the cards right now, but you’re definitely wanting a few. Mason is absolutely okay with waiting for you, as he always mentions that there’s nobody else he’d rather do it with.

gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

Mason gets a bit too excited when it comes to your birthday. He’ll go all out on gifts every year, topping the one before, and dotting them around the house in places you don’t look. Like the boot of his car, the electrical cupboard, the back garden shed, he’s thought about it strategically. And his giddy attitude is never something you question, you usually pass it as his excitement for an upcoming match or just that fact it’s your birthday soon. It would take everything in him to keep it a secret, almost spilling a few of your gifts. He’d accidentally asked you to grab his cleats from the boot of his car, immediately stopping you once the door was open. And you were none the wiser.

holding hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

Whenever you’re both out with yours or his family, it is quite a large group, which usually meant a large outing. And being significantly shorter than him, he likes to hold you close. As you walk down a busy street, he won’t let you out of his sight, even if you’re talking to his mum, he’ll hold your hand tightly or have an arm around your shoulder. His family always thought it was cute, questioning why he does it. And he always responds with a joke, to hide his sloppiness. Something like, “she’s too short, can’t let her get lost.”

injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

If you came home through the front door limping, he’d be all over you. Carrying you to the kitchen, observing the injury, calling the shots on what you need to do for the evening. Which usually consists of having a bath, resting in bed, texting him if you needed him. It was adorable, despite it being just a twisted ankle from the gym or something.

But on a serious scale, if you came home bawling your eyes out after an awful encounter, that’s when Mason loses all of his silliness and smiles. He’s cradling you on the floor of the living room, talking over what just happened and how you felt. He wouldn’t leave you for the rest of the evening, always making sure you’re feeling better and giving you tight squeezes before he goes to get you anything.

jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

Being an avid tiktok user, you’ve seen quite the pranks on there. And mason not yet having a tiktok, made it perfect to carry these out. You’d often spend hours on the phone with Declan, another avid tiktok user, sending prank ideas back and forth. Mason was quite the gullible person, either that or you were a brilliant actress, so your pranks were always going smoothly. And posting it to tiktok, you’d read through the flood of comments together, laughing about how deflated he looked when you swerved him from a kiss, or how in shock he looked when you told him the tower of Pisa had finally fallen over. It was a laugh you had every day.

kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

It varies. If Mason is tired from training, the kisses would be soft and almost non-existent, it would just be Mason’s face incredibly close to yours and then moving away a few seconds later. In any good moments, he’s always reaching for a kiss. The second he sees you after a win, his lips are on yours and aren’t leaving any time soon. Mason’s favourite type of kiss is the kiss you give him every night. It doesn’t lead anywhere that often. But it’s a deep kiss, it’s saying you love him without actually saying it. It always leaves Mason in a haze, going to bed with a love struck smile on his face.

love (how do they show you they love you?)

Mason shows he loves you in many ways. His love language is acts of service. So waking you up in the morning before work with a tea, bringing you into the shower and washing your hair for you. Attempting to make you breakfast, driving you to work, letting you choose dinner and he pays, driving to the local supermarket if you’re in dire need of something. He couldn’t do this everyday with his schedule, but whenever he could, he did.

memory (favorite memory together?)

By far, his favourite memory of the both of you was your first time at Wembley. You were shaking in your shoes at the amount of people in the stadium, but Mason managed to get you the closest seats to the pitch with your family. It was the game he scored two goals in, rushing straight over to your side and blowing you kisses. You soon settled in to the crowd, cheering with everyone else. He’d rush over at half time, giving you a quick kiss before leaving you again. And Mason brought you back to the changing rooms to meet the team, keeping you close to him at all times.

nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

Mason’s worst fear is losing everything he has now. He’d be happy to admit he has everything he wants in life, an amazing career, a lovely list of family and friends, as well as someone he will soon have as a wife. He’s had a nightmare that he’d lost you before, the police broke the news to him and he woke up crying, holding you close for the rest of the night.

oddity (what is one quirk they have?)

It’s not so much of a thing now, but it definitely still happens. Before you were together, and Mason was still in the wooing stage, every time he spoke to you, he’d stutter. You found it adorable and took your time with him. You’d never rush him or look away bored, you’d just look into his eyes with a small smile and it’d make it worse. He’d trip on all of his words, trying to compliment you or ask you out. Even now, sometimes if you’re looking extra pretty or he’s just in a really lovey mood, he’ll slip up on his speech every now and then.

pet names (what do they like to call you?)

His go to pet names for you were baby, honey, and sweets. They just randomly caught on one day and never disappeared. But they make your stomach do flips every time you hear them.

quality time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

Being in your company was enough for him. But it’s the mundane things he loves the most. It’s a weird one, but food shopping. For you, it’s an hour of stress. Manoeuvring past other shoppers, trying to find everything on your list, do your back in as you put everything on the belt, and pack in in record time. But for Mason, he’s following you round in a haze. Like a cartoon character in love. Asking if he can get some stuff, which you always agree to, and seeing you in conversation with random shoppers. Finally getting back to the car with the shopping littered in the boot and back seat, Mason’s hand stays in yours as you rest in the passenger seat.

rhythm (what song reminds you of each other?)

You have a shared song, and Mason vows for it to be your wedding song. Easy by Ella Mai. It’s slow, it’s something you both slow danced to when you were drunk out of your minds in your own living room. The party was over and the song just randomly started playing, a frown on your face as you look up at your boyfriend. It wasn’t his usual taste, which is why it was so random. He told you, “I heard it for the first time the day after I met you. And I thought it was so good. So now it reminds me of you.

secrets (how open are they with you?)

The only thing he keeps from you are your birthday gifts, or big surprises for you. And even then, he’s so eager to just tell you. But he shares even the littlest things with you — like Declan falling over at training, about how he shooed away a bunch of girls when he went to buy dinner. You both trust each other and Mason will tell you every last detail about his day if he could.

time (how long did it take you to get together?)

Mason knew almost instantly you’d be his girlfriend, even joking to Chilly that you’d be his wife someday. And you were an oblivious person, so you were none the wiser to his plays, which is why it took a few months to get together. Mason always comments that if you actually noticed he was flirting, you’d have been together within a few weeks. But now you laugh it off after having been together for so long.

upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

He drops everything to help you when you’re upset. A bad day at work, an argument with a friend or family member, or even just a day where the world is against you. He can usually tell by your quiet demeanour, giving him tired answers, and not wanting to cry around him. He’d catch you in the bedroom, flopped onto the bed and huffing. He’d join you, rubbing your back as you go off about your day. He’d listen to it for hours if it meant you were okay, but he’d just run you a bath and tell you he’d be back with dinner shortly.

vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

1000%. He’s the one to tell your family that he’s surprised he bagged you. He’s always saying you’re out of his league, posting you on his Instagram all the time. Showing you off to his friends and family, sending them pictures of the two of you dressed up nice. They all find it adorable — and they know just how much Mason loves you.

warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

It’s on sight. If another man does so much as graze your shoulder, he’ll be on it for you. On the pitch, he’s okay with some confrontation, but anything regarding you, he’s not having it. You’re his and he would beat anyone who questioned it.

Usually, if it’s just a quarrel with a friend, he’ll listen to your side of things and give you some words of encouragement. But if it’s really nasty, he’ll be stepping in and having words. He has a lot of patience, but won’t let you be stood on.

x-ray (how well are they able to read you?)

Like a book, now. But when you were first dating, you hid your emotions well. At least, you thought you did. All it took was one touch from mason, and you were crying like a baby in his arms about your horrible shift. You thought you held up a tough front, but staring up at his eyes, as he looked back at you with concern laced among his features, it told him how you really felt. Now he knows the telltale signs, and he’s there to help.

yes (how would they propose to you?)

Mason thinks about this question a lot. He wonders it in the shower, making you your morning tea, during his downtime at training. He’s even scrolled endlessly through a bunch of rings, asking the opinions of his mum and sister. The question had come up between the two of you, and you’d said how you’d felt about marriage. You wanted it, but big events for a proposal were detested by you.

If it was up to Mase, he’d take you on holiday. Buy you a gorgeous summer dress, take you to the beach and declare his undying love for you. But he’d take a small proposal in bed at 2am, too.

zen (what makes them feel calm?)

As mentioned before, Mason was a sucker for domestic things. Watching you do the shopping as he trails behind you was his idea of spending good time together. But getting home from a long day of training, and smelling whatever dinner you’d concocted for the evening. It was as if your front door was the very gates of Heaven. No matter what happened during the day, the second he smells his dinner and greets you happily, nothing is ruining his mood.

if you guys want me to turn some of these into longer requests, just ask! i’m in the mood to write for mase🥺

#mason mount #mason mount blurb #mason mount imagine #mason mount smut #mason mount x reader #chelsea fc

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

Text

ANOTHER TITLE

a/n: personally i’ve been waiting for this part to come since the beginning lmao, so here is the proposal finally!! it’s like so fluffy, almost disgustingly, but i just couldn’t help myself

pairing: Sebastian Stan X Reader

word count: 1.8k

This fic is part of the LITTLE ONE series, but can be read as a simple oneshot as well! Find the masterpost of the series HERE!

masterlist

(gif is not mine)

You’ve been eating like a hormonal teenage boy these past weeks and you know it needs to stop and held under control, but you just can’t help yourself. It’s like your stomach has become a black hole that needs to absorb any and every food that’s home, you’re constantly snacking beside the large portions you eat three times a day, there’s always something you’re craving, the shopping list on the fridge is changing every hour because you think of something else to eat.

Luckily, you haven’t gained that much weight besides the noticeable bump that’s your baby in your belly, seems like your little girl does need all the food and she uses it instead of letting it all get stuck on other parts of your body, so you’re fine for just now.

Sitting on the couch, watching some kind of soap opera, you’re snacking on an entire jar of Nutella this time, shamelessly stuffing your mouth with the sweet, thick stuff, pretty sure that nothing will be left of it by the end of the day. Sebastian is away again for his second filming that was scheduled even before you found out you were pregnant and he messed around with it a little, shortening it once again and you just visited him last weekend. Now that you are pushing the end of your second trimester, your bump is quite evident, not something you can hide easily, so when you showed up on set with your boyfriend, you didn’t even try to cover it up, knowing well someone would spot it sooner or later. However everyone on the team has been so respectful, keeping the news to themselves, because no headlines have been made about your pregnancy just yet, keeping the secret even longer. To be honest, you’re surprised it hasn’t been discovered sooner, you thoughr someone would catch you out and about and see right through your baggy clothes and sell the news to the tabloids, but now you are in the sixth month and no one knows a thing.

Your phone chimes next to you, a text from Seb and you hum to yourself happily, putting the jar aside to grab the phone and see what he wrote.

“How are my two favorite girls doing? Miss you a lot!”

He even attached a silly selfie of himself in hair and makeup, he looks adorable with the clips in his hair and some kind of patches under his eyes. Like a real beauty guru.

Grabbing the Nutella, you place it on top of your bump as you move the phone to a lower angle and take a selfie that makes your bump look even bigger, the jar on top and you grinning widely at the camera as you snap a picture and send it to him with your reply.

“Enjoying our third snack of the day at 11 am! Miss you too, can’t wait to see you next week!”

He reads the message right away, his reply coming just seconds later.

“Look at that bump! You look gorgeous, baby! Can’t wait to see you too, have fun with your sister today, love you lots Xx”

Since he has left you’ve been trying to keep yourself busy so you don’t miss him too much and you’re also using these weeks to spend as much time with your friends and family as possible, knowing well once the baby arrives you won’t be going out that much for a while, nestled up in your home, learning the ropes of being a mother. Today you are meeting up with your sister, she is taking you out to this alleged new, quite fancy restaurant you haven’t heard about before. She claimed that it’s really exclusive, so you don’t have to worry about being photographed or bothered, but she also told you to glam yourself up for the occasion. It’s gonna be some nice sister time, something you haven’t been able to do in a long time.

You take the assignment seriously, doing your hair and makeup the best you can and you decide to put on a flowy maxi dress with a soft, knitted cardigan, very much going for a kind of cottage core vibe. Leaving just in time you text your sister that you’re on your way, putting the address into the GPS and heading out of town, because the place is near the beach. She texts you back that she’ll meet you there and so your short little road trip begins. Sitting in the car you’re listening to one of the many playlists Sebastian has made for you and the baby, he likes to play them at home, humming the songs under his breath, hoping to start educating your little girl in the field of music as early as possible. You have to admit he has a good taste, so you don’t mind it at all.

As you follow the instructions of the GPS you find the place that’s supposed to be your destination, but it doesn’t seem like a restaurant at all, more like a mansion of some kind, a very expensive looking if you are being honest. There are no other cars, no sign of other people so as you park at the front you call your sister.

“Hey, I’m right outside, but I have a feeling I’m at the wrong place? It doesn’t look like a restaurant.”

“Oh, don’t worry! You’re at the right place! I’m a little late, but I’ll be there soon, just go inside, they are expecting us!” she assures you, but you’re still not convinced.

Ending the call you approach the entrance and for your surprise the heavy doors open before you could even knock or find the bell. A man in a tuxedo appears in front of you, smiling warmly at you.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

“Uh, yeah,” you nod, a little shy and confused.

“Please, follow me,” prompts as you walk inside and the two of you start crossing the grandiose hall of the building.

At this point you are sure it’s not a restaurant, but you have no idea why your sister wanted you to come here. You want to ask the man if you’re even at the right place, but he called you by your name so he was expecting you, this has to be the place where you’re supposed to be. More and more questions pile up in your head as you follow him out to the backyard, a gigantic, flower-filled garden that’s straight out of a fairytale, a path leading down to the beach where there’s a dreamy little pergola with even more flowers and fairy lights and as your eyes fall on the figure standing in the middle of the pergola, you immediately gasp.

Because surrounded with all the flowers and lights, there is Sebastian standing in an elegant suit, smiling widely at you as the man next to you helps you down the stairs before you start walking down the path to him.

Tears are flooding your eyes, because you already know what it is, but you can’t believe it’s really happening. He was so sneaky, he got home from filming earlier and even made your sister play along to surprise you, he is such a romantic soul, no one can change your mind about that!

“You’re not in Atlanta!” you tell him when he is finally close enough to hear you. He chuckles sweetly, taking a few steps forward to meet you sooner, his hands finding your waist as you cup his face in your hands, pulling him down to kiss you right away.

“No, I’m not, baby,” he smirks, his hands sliding to your belly, gently stroking the sides as you wipe your tears away, but there’s no use, because the next moment, he steps back a little, just enough so that he can get down on one knee and you’re crying again when you see him pull out a little velvety box from his pocket.

You were expecting it. You knew he would propose before the baby arrives, but you just didn’t know when and how, but he surely outdone himself with his little surprise.

“My Love, Y/N,” he starts after a deep breath, his hands finding yours and you can feel the shaking, but you’re not sure if it’s coming from yours or his. Probably both. “I’ve spent the best years of my life with you and I haven’t been the same man since the day I met you, but in the best way possible. You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met and I’m so lucky that you did not only choose to be with me, but you are now carrying our baby under your heart as well, out little one who is equal parts of you and me, though you’re doing ninety percent of the job here,” he adds with a chuckle, making you laugh through your tears. “I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you the moment you were so badass on your first date, kissing me when I didn’t have the balls to do the first step, but I’m glad you did. I fell in love with you right then and there and the same thing has been happening every day, over and over again since then. I know we went a little out of order with everything we had planned,” he smirks, glancing down at your bump before his blue eyes find yours again, “but that doesn’t change the fact that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, so I have a question for you.”

He pops the lid of the box open, a gorgeous, brilliant diamond ring coming to your vision, sparkling in the warm afternoon Sun so perfectly, it takes your breath away.

“Y/N Y/L/N, will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?” he asks, clearly nervous, even though there’s no doubt about your answer, you’ve told him plenty of times before that you want to marry him, but still, it’s a huge moment in both your lives.

“Yes, yes, yes!” you nod eagerly as you both start laughing in relief, his shaky fingers tagging the ring out of the box and sliding it to your finger gently, before he brings your hand to his mouth and kisses the ring.

Then he finally stands up and you basically throw yourself into his arms, kissing him like your life depends on it as he kisses you back with just as much force.

“I love you and I can’t wait to call you my wife,” he sighs pleased against your lips.

“Mm, another title in the line? Girlfriend, baby mama, fiancé and then wife,” you giggle giddily.

“You missed one,” he cocks an eyebrow at you slyly.

“Which one?”

“Love of my life.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan blurb #sebastian stan oneshot #sebastian stan one shot #sebastian stan fiction #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader

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helloalycia · 3 years

Text

The Wrong Lifetime – Seven // Wanda Maximoff

chapter six | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter eight

author’s note: hope y’all like this one 👀

The Maximoffs were just as a good at throwing a party as my own parents were.

Celebrating a new book that was published at Pietro's business, they threw a party in their back garden big enough to host half the town if they wanted to. Actually, now that I thought about, half the town was probably there.

We were invited to celebrate along with them because we were 'family' now, as Oleg and Iryna pointed out, so I found myself standing in their garden getting a drink under the night sky and trying to blend in with the snacks table so I wouldn't have to mingle. Parties still weren't my thing, clearly.

People-watching was more my forte. It was amazing the things people did when they thought nobody was looking. One guy coughed into his hand and wiped it on his pants – I reminded myself not to shake his hand – whilst some woman checked if her teeth were clean on the back of a serving tray.

My gaze raked the garden, indifferent to the men who attempted to get women's attention with a boyish grin and terrible pick-up lines, or the women who lifted their dresses a little higher than necessary to steal a man's attention. I spotted my parents talking to some guests whom I'd never see before, then there was Wanda's parents laughing alongside Pietro as he told a joke to some important looking people.

Eventually, my eyes fell to the remaining Maximoff, who was looking especially beautiful tonight. A deep lilac gown adorned her figure and she wore it like it was uniquely made just for her. She probably didn't even realise, but all eyes were definitely on her; a simple stride around the garden had people turning heads to see who the lilac beauty was. Y/B/N was the most envied man of the evening, with every guy here wishing they could have Wanda on their arm.

I'd wanted to tell her just how truly stunning she looked tonight, but I hadn't been able to pull her away from my brother's side for even a second. Everywhere he went, she went, too. I'd caught her eyes maybe three times tonight since she was so involved with whatever she spoke about with the people who worked for Pietro. I didn't take it personally of course, but it didn't make me feel any better.

Y/B/N had his hands all over her, probably suspecting just how many people were checking her out tonight, and I hated the way it made me feel. Envy and jealousy came over me and it wasn't pleasant. His hand was permanently fixed on her waist, at times moving suspiciously lower and making me roll my eyes. Occasionally, he'd lean over and whisper something in her ear making her flush – involuntarily or not, I didn't know. Wanda was a good actress, appearing as the perfect fiancé to him and couple to everybody else. Or, at least, I hoped it was acting.

"Pretty ladies shouldn't be standing by their lonesome," said someone with a Sokovian accent, but sadly not the one I wanted to hear.

"Pietro," I said with an amused smile, turning to face the man of the evening. "Congratulations on the new published book!"

He smiled appreciatively. "Thank you, Y/N. How are you finding the party?"

I glanced around, disguising my discomfort with a nod. "It's great."

He chuckled, as if suspecting that was a lie, before changing the subject. "So, the book. Have you read it?"

Glad that this was something I could actually talk about, my shoulders relaxed and I nodded. "Yes! I bought it yesterday as soon as it was published. I've only read the first six chapters, but what I've read is beautifully written."

Pietro snickered, raising his brows. "Only? That's further than anyone here has read."

I smiled bashfully, eyes veering elsewhere with embarrassment. "I guess I just have a lot of free time."

He hummed with amusement. "And you must really like reading... Wanda mentioned you write, too. It's nice to know it runs in the family."

Certain my cheeks were flushed, I nodded. "Yeah, our dad, he taught Y/B/N and I how to write when we were kids. That's where my love of literature began."

"And what do you like to write?" he asked, intrigued.

I shrugged, the grip on my glass of champagne loosening as I grew comfortable. "I don't know... short stories, drabbles, novels. I mainly deal with themes of love and romanticism. We're so intent on leading our lives with what other people want that we rarely take time to think about we want... I write about that."

Swallowing, I looked to Pietro, hoping I wasn't boring him. He was a publisher after all, besides my soon-to-be brother-in-law. His opinion was important to me.

"I must admit, Y/N, my interest is piqued," he admitted, watching me with an inquisitive gaze. "Do you have anything I could read?"

"It's probably better than it sounds," I said dismissively, knowing this was just small talk.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I doubt that. You shouldn't say such things. You never know, you could be my next signed author."

I tried not to laugh. "Nice try, Pietro."

He smiled widely. "What? I'm serious!"

Tilting my head towards him knowingly, I sighed. "We both know that can't happen."

He was grinning now, clearly entertained by my unamused expression. "Says who?"

I motioned around us with my drink. "Says everyone? The world we live in?"

He began to list authors on his fingers as he said, "Jane Austen. Emily Bronte. Mary Shelley. Louisa May Alcott. Dare I name more?"

"Okay, okay, I get it," I said, pushing his hand down and rolling my eyes at his smug expression. "But I can promise you that all of those women fought tooth and nail to get published. Their families probably weren't as accepting as they wanted them to be. There's still people now who talk about how unprofessional and lacklustre their works are. They didn't have it easy. Still don't. And don't even get me started on the reputation side of things for you... d'you know how much backlash you'd get for signing a woman?"

Pietro shrugged, sipping his drink, before saying casually, "I only care about talent, Y/N. And if you have even a quarter of the talent your brother does, then I'm happy to go from there."

I quirked a brow, trying to gauge if he was pulling my leg or not. But the kind eyes looking back at me suggested he may not have been. Either way, the idea of actually being published – something I'd been dreaming of since I was a kid – was enough to raise my suspicions and make me shake my head.

"Thanks for listening, Pietro," I said conclusively, hoping he got the hint.

He nodded, accepting my word, thankfully. "Anytime. Hopefully this isn't the end of this conversation, though."

I cracked a smile, knowing it was but giving him the benefit of the doubt. He pursed his lips, glancing around briefly before attempting to hide an amused smile.

"What are you smiling at?" I teased, nudging him in the arm slightly.

His eyes met mine, sparkling with mischief. "You've probably not noticed, but as we've been speaking, almost everyone in this garden has looked our way."

I cocked my head with confusion, smile still present. He nodded subtly, eyes flickering to the right, so I followed his gaze and inconspicuously looked around. He was right, as murmurs of gossip escaped people's lips, their eyes trying to get a good look at the two of us. Even our parents were looking our way, no doubt discussing our future wedding affair.

"Wow," I breathed out, trying not to laugh as I looked back to him. "You'd think they'd have something better to do."

He leaned in, muttering, "Wanna give them a show?"

My eyes flickered between his, seeing that roguish charm of his come to life. I couldn't resist his mischievous attempt to piss off our parents, so of course I nodded with a stifled laugh.

"Care to dance, Miss Y/L/N?" he asked, a little louder than he needed to, attracting more attention.

I grinned, grateful for the idiot that was Pietro. He was already making my evening ten times better than it was.

Resting my hand in his outstretched one, I nodded. "Thank you, Mr Maximoff."

I barely had chance to put my glass down before he led me to the area before the live band that was strumming a lovely upbeat ballad. We joined the other couples that were also having a dance, unbothered by their nosey stares.

Bowing dramatically, he smiled and I curtsied before resting a hand on his shoulder and the other in his. He rested a hand on my waist respectfully before a grin spread across his lips and he began to dance me around everybody else, way too fast for me to keep up.

"Pietro!" I exclaimed between fits of laughter, trying not to trip over my feet or his.

"You said we could dance," he answered simply, before spinning me around.

My eyes went dizzy as he dipped me, making me laugh joyfully. For the first time all night, I was having fun. When he pulled me up, his eyes motioned to the left of us.

"D'you think our parents have already picked the wedding venue?" he teased.

"Definitely," I said with a nod, before shoving him back slightly. "But you, mister, need to slow down. You're like a speedster with the dancing. We should call you Quicksilver."

He laughed, continued to dance me around but much more slower this time. "I like that. You're clever. I can see why Wanda has taken a liking to you."

I knew he didn't mean it like that, but my heart dropped to my stomach anyway. A hearty chuckle escaped his lips as he noticed my expression. Thankfully, he didn't question it and we continued to make a fool of ourselves for a few more songs before taking a break by the snacks table.

"You're an idiot," I told Pietro as we caught our breath, but a delighted smile was on my lips. "You know you've probably convinced our parents that we're a couple now, right?"

"Hey, you're the one who started to fluff my hair like you loved me!" he retorted with humoured eyes.

"Because you're just so darn cute!" I mocked him, before moving forward and going in to fluff his hair yet again.

He attempted to smack my hand away as he said, "Hands off the hair, Y/L/N! I styled it perfectly!"

Grabbing my wrists, he held me back and I tried not to cry with laughter at the expression on his face.

"Such a child," I decided, pulling my hands away. "Whatever happens from here on out is definitely your fault."

He scoffed, as if ready to refute that fact, but before he could say anything, my brother's voice was heard.

"It's nice to see you actually conversing with people for a change, but maybe not my publisher."

Pietro and I turned and saw Y/B/N and Wanda approaching us. My brother seemed entertained by Pietro and I, looking between us with pre-conceived ideas that we may have already fancied each other, just like everyone else had tonight. Wanda, meanwhile, was watching me with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"He's good company, what can I say?" I joked, returning my brother's smile.

"Oh?" He raised a brow, knowing look in his eyes.

I rolled my own, trying not to laugh at his insinuation. There was no point trying to convince him otherwise.

"I was just giving Y/N here the best evening ever since she was moping around in the corner," Pietro explained nonchalantly, making me smack his arm.

"I was not moping!" I defended myself.

He shrugged, ghost of a smile on his lips. "Whatever you say."

I gave him a playful glare before focusing my attention to the couple before us.

"As lovely as it is to see whatever this is," my brother continued to make things awkward as he motioned between us, "I came to get Pietro. Someone from the press is here and has questions about the book."

At the mention of this, Pietro straightened up and neatened his bow tie, flashing my brother his most confident smile. "Lead the way, Y/B/N."

After assuring Wanda he'd be back in a second, Y/B/N let go of her waist and guided Pietro to the members of the press. Glad that he'd finally left her side, I looked to Wanda with a soft smile.

"Hey," I said quietly, glancing around before saying what I'd wanted to say all night. "You look radiant tonight, Wanda."

Unexpectedly, she crossed her arms and pressed her lips together firmly. "How was your dance with Pietro?"

Her green eyes, literally green with envy, watched me with distaste. It didn't take long for me to recognise that familiar jealousy entwined in her expression because it was probably the same way I looked when she was with my brother. For some reason, this made me smile with amusement.

"He's a very good dancer," I said, half truthful and half trying to poke fun.

She wasn't amused. "Yeah, everybody saw. You've been all over him."

I covered my mouth, trying very hard not to laugh. "I mean, he's pretty funny to be around. I can totally see why everybody wants us to get married."

Her jaw clenched as she narrowed her eyes at me.

"C'mon, it's a joke," I said lightheartedly, nudging her in the arm. "You know that."

After internally debating whether or not to believe me, she relaxed her shoulders and unclenched her jaw. "I know."

"So, what's the problem?" I asked, raising a brow and smiling playfully.

She rolled her eyes. "Nothing."

My smile faded as I searched her eyes. "C'mon. What is it? You know you can tell me."

"Forget it, Y/N," she muttered, avoiding my eyes.

Realising she was still clearly bothered, I sighed dramatically, hoping to lighten the mood. Making sure my voice was low enough for only her to hear, I said, "I only danced with him to annoy our parents. Same with him. He's clearly not interested in me and neither I with him. That's why we get along so well." Teasing her once more, I added, "If circumstances were different, I'd like to think we'd be good friends. He's quite handsome, though I think the good looks are a Maximoff twin thing. Maybe if–"

"I'm in love with you!"

I paused, blinking, unsure if I'd heard correctly. Her cheeks were flushed as she looked to me with exasperation.

Glancing around to make sure nobody was attracted by her outburst, I swallowed hard. My heart was pounding in my ears as she said what I'd been struggling to accept for the past two months.

"What?" I breathed out, raising my brows with surprise.

She licked her lips, realisation replacing her look of admission. Opening her mouth to say something, she stepped forward, but my brother returned with an oblivious smile on his face and interrupted the moment.

"Wanda, the journalists want a picture of us for their article," he said enthusiastically, returning his arm around her waist and tugging her close, making my skin crawl.

Her gaze lingered on me for as long as she could before looking up to my brother with a halfhearted smile.

"Sure," she agreed reluctantly.

My brother nodded at me before leading Wanda away. She gave me one last look, her eyes trapped with unsaid words, before leaving with him. My mouth went dry as Wanda's words echoed in my mind. She was in love with me. And I knew I was in love with her, too. I had been for a while.

But wouldn't admitting that make this whole thing a lot more complicated?

—

"Will you stop shaking your hand? It's very distracting."

I stopped shaking my hand and gave my mum an apologetic glance before facing the door again. I was extremely eager and nervous to see Wanda again, as I hadn't been able to see her for the rest of the party last night.

Her words were permanently resounding in my mind all night, making it difficult to fall asleep. The reality of our situation had dawned on me and I knew that even though everything would become more difficult between us, I had to tell her that I felt the same way. The last thing I wanted was her panicking that I didn't. Because these last two months loving her in secret were better than anything I'd experienced in my life.

Iryna and my mum had made plans to hang out today, including Wanda and I in the plans without actually telling me until this morning. I didn't mind though as I was hoping it could be an opportunity for us both to finally speak.

The front door opened to reveal Iryna with a bright, inviting smile. She exchanged greetings with us both and ushered us inside instantly. There, waiting, was Wanda, looking as gorgeous as ever. A calm suddenly enveloped me as I looked to her, my heart fluttering in my chest more so than usual. She loved me and that thought alone made me feel giddy inside.

"You must come upstairs to the closet with me," Iryna insisted before I could utter a word to the brunette. "I've been very silly and impulse-ordered a bunch of new dresses. Of course, the only way to fix that is to try them on."

My mother laughed alongside her and the two of them looked to Wanda and I questioningly. I smiled their way, glancing at Wanda, before following them upstairs. Maybe later.

I spent the next hour trying on clothes against my own will, modelling them for Wanda and our mothers awkwardly. Ecstatic, our mothers threw their opinions out at me, but I was barely listening because all I could seem to focus on was a quiet Wanda. I couldn't read her mind for the life of me – she was getting better at hiding how she truly felt.

Wanda also tried some dresses on, still not as enthused as she usually was, but neither of our mothers seemed to take notice. I sat on the lounge sofa alongside them, eyes unable to look away from Wanda as she modelled the dresses. I had no words, my mind hazy and tongue tied as she stole my breath away for the millionth time. She was ethereal.

"...what do you think, Y/N?" Iryna asked, forcing me to look away from Wanda and to her. "She should keep this one, shouldn't she?"

I hummed in agreement, looking back to Wanda, who was avoiding my eyes. "She should. I don't think I've ever seen a dress so perfect for someone before."

Our mothers didn't seem to think much of my comment, but Wanda finally looked up, not ignoring me for the first time since I got here. I offered her a small smile, hoping she could see what I'd been wanting to say to her since last night. But she looked away, chewing on her lip and looking down.

"I'm gonna change," she mumbled, before turning to go back behind the curtain.

A sigh escaped my lips as I leaned back against the seat. I'd just have to find a spare moment.

Iryna and my mum proceeded to try on a bunch of dresses before we called it a day and were ready to eat lunch.

"I want you to have these, Y/N," Iryna told me as we all stood up, motioning to the pile of dresses on the arm of the sofa. "It's my gift to you."

I raised my eyebrows. "Oh, Iryna, you don't need to give–"

"Don't be ridiculous," she cut me off with a wave of her hand. "You're family now. Anything for my daughter-in-law."

I smiled awkwardly, not missing the eye roll from Wanda, before nodding. "Thanks..."

She looked to her daughter. "Wanda, medovyy (honey), can you help her pack them away and meet Y/M/N and I outside on the patio for some lunch?"

Wanda, having no other choice but to say yes, nodded and forced a smile in her mum's direction. "Sure, mum."

Our mothers fell into conversation as they left the room, finally leaving Wanda and I alone. I released a breath, grateful for the privacy, and looked to the Sokovian in question.

"You okay?" I asked slowly, wanting to find a start before erupting straight into my feelings.

She nodded, nibbling on her lip. She looked like she wanted to say something more, so I watched her patiently.

After a pause, when I thought she may just stay quiet forever, she spoke. "If what I said last night was out of line, I'm sorry."

I shook my head, a smile curling on my lips. "It wasn't. I'm in love with you, too."

Surprised, she finally met my gaze, eyes swirling with confusion. "You are?"

"Of course I am," I said quietly, stepping forward and taking her hands in mine. "I didn't mean to make you jealous last night. Pietro and I were genuinely just hanging out as friends."

She shook her head, eyes flickering between mine. "It doesn't matter about that. Forget it."

I still felt guilty, adding, "I know, but it does matter. I don't want to–"

She pressed her lips to mine quickly, cutting me off. Her fingers tangled in my hair as she tugged me closer with her other hand, making me gasp when my body touched hers. I kissed back, closing my eyes and moving my lips against hers in perfect sync.

I probably could have kissed her all afternoon, but the sound of the door opening made us both jump apart, startled. It was just a servant who was coming in to clean up the room. When she saw us, she gave us a small smile before moving around the room carefully. My eyes fell to Wanda's excited ones, and I smiled at her before nodding to the dresses.

"We should sort this out before they wonder what's taking so long," I told her, moving to pack them.

She nodded, grabbing my hand and squeezing it gently before helping me. We packed the dresses in no time before joining our mums out on the patio where they were sat with our lunch. I tried to keep my eyes off Wanda as our mothers spoke to us about God knew what, but it was hard when all I wanted to do was kiss her over and over, telling her just how much I loved her.

"...nice to see you both getting along lately," Iryna was talking, and I only zoned back in when I realised she was looking at me.

I blinked. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

Wanda stifled a smile as my mum gave me a disapproving look from across the table.

Iryna didn't seem to mind as she chuckled. "You and Pietro," she continued. "You both seemed very comfortable at the party last night."

I settled on a polite smile. "He's a gentleman. Very nice to be around, I guess."

Iryna smiled knowingly, exchanging glances with my mum before patting Wanda on the forearm, getting her attention. "How does that sound, dear? Your brother and Y/N together?"

I shook my head instantly, realising how she'd taken my words. "That's not what I meant."

Humming in response, Iryna continued to look to her daughter. "You may have to start sharing your new best friend with Pietro."

Remembering Wanda's jealousy last night, I spared her a glance of concern, hoping she wouldn't let this get to her. She was smiling, but her eyes were dimmed with dismay.

"Uh-huh," she played along with her mother's words, before using her fork to pick at her food.

As our mums began to talk about it, I found Wanda's hand under the table and laced my fingers in hers, hoping she'd know I only cared about one person and it was her. Though she didn't look up, her hand tightened around mine and she didn't let go.

The rest of the lunch went by as expected, though the more Iryna and my mother mentioned the wedding, the more Wanda and I grew uncomfortable. It was so much harder to hear about it when I knew my feelings were growing stronger for the brunette every day. By the end of the meal, my mother was happy to go back home and said I could stay to hang out with Wanda, which of course I did.

After bidding her a goodbye, I let Wanda drag me upstairs and to her bedroom, though the door closed when she spun around and pushed me against it, immediately kissing me. Before I could even question what was happening, she pulled away and looked at me through a half-lidded gaze.

"I don't want to share you with my brother, ever," she rasped out lowly, before licking her lips. "I don't want to share you with anyone."

She breathed out, her breath mingling with mine. Her hands rested on my waist before she reattached our lips, moving hers slower and more thoughtfully against mine.

I closed my eyes, grabbing her face and holding her gently, letting her slip her tongue between my lips and play with mine. Then she sucked on my lower lip, teeth nibbling gently at the sensitive skin, and made my insides go warm and fuzzy.

When she let go, she trailed kisses down my jaw and to my neck, having me at her mercy.

"Wanda," I moaned, hand moving to the back of her neck as I tried to regain some control of the situation, but the longer she sucked at the exposed skin, the more my knees wanted to buckle.

Already lowering my dress to my shoulders, her hand untied the back of it and I flushed at the contact of her fingers against me, not used to the feeling but also not opposed.

"Wanda, are you sure?" I asked between bated breaths, attempting to get her attention by tugging at her dress.

She pulled back, hand rising to my jaw and caressing it with her thumb as she looked between my eyes. Hers were dark, clouded with an arousal I hadn't seen before.

"I am," she said with certainty, before asking, "Are you?"

I swallowed hard, the warmth in my core growing hotter as she stared at me with lustful eyes and swollen lips. "Yes."

She gave me a slight smile before pressing her lips to mine again, allowing me to wrap my arms around her neck. I heard her lock the door behind me as I undid the top of her dress, struggling to do so without breaking contact from her. We moved to the bed clumsily, trying not to stumble over our discarded dresses, before I laid her down and straddled her.

Leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down her neck, I felt her fingers grip my waist, keeping ahold of my body on hers. I shivered as her nails scratched gently against the skin and grew warm when she lifted herself up gently to get more comfortable, her clothed centre rubbing against mine.

Taking a breath, I pulled away and hovered over her, revelling in the beauty that was Wanda Maximoff. Her cheeks were dusted pink as she opened her eyes, green eyes sparkling desperately as they flickered between mine.

"I love you," I told her softly, leaning on my elbow and caressing her forehead.

She smiled, nails trailing up my back and sending shivers down my spine. "Ya tozhe tebya lyublyu."

I tried not to laugh as I tilted my head with confusion. She smiled a little wider, hand reaching for the back of my bra.

"I love you, too," she translated in English, hint of amusement in her eyes, before she managed to undo the bra strap.

I rolled my eyes at her attempt of mockery before chasing down her lips once more. Everything about the woman before me was absolute perfection and I was glad I could finally share how I felt about her without having to hide it anymore.

The potential consequences of our actions was not my concern right now... all I cared about was treating her with the respect and care she deserved.

#wanda maximoff au #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #scarlet witch imagine #marvel #mcu #marvel imagine #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen imagine

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untaemedqueen · 3 years

Text

Third Wheeling

CEO!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 10.

Warnings (Updating Still): Smut, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unfaithful, Emotional Damage, Love,

Warnings In This Chapter: Heart To Heart, Fluff, Infidelity, Sera Is A Cunt, Triggering Moments (I.E): Hearing Infidelity, Making Light Of Other's Trauma, Mentions of Cigarette Burns, General Rudeness

A/N: This chapter is early because I’m hungover. Always a shoutout to @ppersonna, @xjoonchildx, @ladyartemesia. Enjoy!

The smell of blooming flowers is something you never thought you'd become fond of. It's never been something that you've even considered. But you find yourself so often these days finding small delights in simplistic things.

Sitting in front of the large fountain that has been hidden behind clean cut hedges and tall rose bushes, you let the gentle breeze wash over you.

You can hear Baeksoo quietly speaking to the plants as she waters them. It's calming in fact, to hear her speak words of praise.

You've thought long and hard about this evening. Which is astounding since it's just dinner. But, you don't know simple things about Yoongi.

You think to ask Maya but you want to do this by yourself.

"I thought I'd find you here," the voice draws your attention and suddenly you're misty eyed.

Just the way she walks and the tilt of her gorgeous face is enough to make you weep.

"Leena!" you cry out.

Jumping up from the bench, your arms spread wide as you feel relief flood over you.

"Hey, Miss Thing!" she cheers, pulling you into her arms.

You begin to feel as if you could breathe again.

"You look so great! I missed you so much!" she whines loudly, squeezing you tightly to her slim body.

"What're you doing here?!" you ask, pulling away to look at her pretty face.

She grabs your wrist, tugging you over to the bench you were just sitting on.

"Taehyung needed to bring Yoongi some documents for a mall or something before we're off to France, so I made sure I was able to come and see you."

You watch as she demurely crosses her legs and you make a mental note of it. She went to many etiquette classes when she was younger and you’ve always admired how graceful she is. It’s the way she moves so effortlessly and with such confidence. You’ve always wished to be like her.

The floral fragrance seems to enrapture you once more as you sit together. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, your best friend makes it a point to continue to hold you.

“How is he treating you? I swear to God, if you tell me that you’re being treated like the help I’m going to fucking flip.” your best friend asks.

You sigh gently, looking up at the clear cerulean sky.

“He’s treating me normally, I guess. One minute he’s so cold with me and the next he’s just being so sweet. I don’t know what the fuck to feel. Last night, we went at it and he came to apologize to me.” you reply as the breeze blows through your hair.

“Excuse me? Min Yoongi apologized to you?” she sounds dumbfounded and all you can do is nod in agreement.

“Oh my God, he’s so fucking whipped! That’s amazing.” you snort at her excitement, rolling your eyes before looking back over to her.

“I think he’s just being civil. We’ll see, we’re having dinner tonight.” your confession hits her like a stack of bricks and she squeals loudly, gripping your hands tightly.

“I’m gonna drop dead on this expensive gravel beneath my feet. YOU and YOONGI are having dinner tonight?! Like, eating in the presence of one another civilly?!” her blue contacted eyes go wide and her mouth drops open while you nod.

“Yeah. I’m cooking dinner,” you say, confusion enrapturing your tone.

She guffaws loudly, her head lolling back as she gasps for breath. “You’re so insane! This is amazing! He totally fucking likes you!”

“Well… I don’t know about that but-” your voice is cut off by hers.

“Shush! Silence! I’ve said what I’ve said! And it’s the law!” she cries out, pressing her perfectly manicured finger to your lips.

“Sexy girl! Let’s go!” you hear Taehyung scream.

Leena turns her head to the voice before pouting. “You better call me with all the details of your date. I want to know how he looks at you, how he eats his food with you around, how he fucking sneezes. I want the whole laundry list of things that happen tonight!”

You giggle at her enthusiasm before nodding. “Yes ma’am. A laundry list of all the things Min Yoongi does to make me mad.”

She rolls her eyes before kissing your cheek happily.

“Love you, Miss Thing!”

“Love you, too!”

Standing tall, she fixes her long dress. She looks around the garden impressed before folding her arms.

“I’m really happy for you, by the way. I think things are really going to work out here.” she calls to you, starting to walk away.

“Bye Yoongi!” she yells up to the house and your eyes follow hers.

He stands on his large balcony, a cup of coffee in hand staring at you. He bows his head to her, a smirk present on his lips before looking back at you.

“Little dove, good morning.” you hear him say as he retreats back into his room.

How long was he standing there? How much had he heard?

Listening to Frederic drone on about food is something you don’t think you could ever get tired of. He makes the French cook stereotype feel so alive. You’ve been in the kitchen plenty of times, have gone through the cabinets many, many times throughout the nights when staff and the chef were sleeping. But, to hear him feeling the need to explain it all to you as you both take small steps around the gigantic kitchen is humorous and you let him do his thing.

“Now this, this is a sieve. You can strain things through it,” Frederic says, picking up the large strainer.

You hum playfully as you lean down on the island counter.

“I have made my own food before y’know,” you quip to him as he unbuttons his chef’s jacket.

He tuts his tongue as he brushes some hair back behind your ear. “Ah oui, bien sûr Madame. I know, I just want to make sure you know where everything is.”

You smile at his kindness, it must be difficult to relinquish your kitchen to others especially after being in charge for so long.

“I promise I won’t make anything dirty and I promise, cross my heart, that I will take good care of your kitchen,” you swear to him as he throws his chef’s jacket over his shoulder.

He presses both of his hands to either side of your face, wiggling them slightly with a smile.

“Merci, Madame. You are in every word parfaite. I cannot be happier to make you food in this home,” he whispers as you tilt your head with a giggle.

“Go have a good day off, have fun,” you insist as he drifts his hand over the marble countertop, as if he’s finding it hard to say goodbye.

“Oui, bien entendu. I’ll have a drink in your honor, Madame,” he says with a sigh.

You give him a wink as he exits the kitchen and you watch him slowly leave to the maid’s quarter. Your lips sputter as you look around the large, empty kitchen before sighing.

“Okay, let’s do this.”

He should be working. He opened up his computer, he grabbed all the necessary documents from both Taehyung and his office but he just can’t seem to focus.

Yoongi can smell the aroma of food coming from the kitchen and it makes him curious. What are you making? How do you even know what he likes? Do you even know how to cook?

He wants to know more about you, or try to learn more anyway.

Recalling just this morning, he can hear you so clearly -- “He’s treating me normally, I guess. One minute he’s so cold with me and the next he’s just being so sweet. I don’t know what the fuck to feel. Last night, we went at it and he came to apologize to me.”

You think he’s cold and you’re absolutely right. He always has been and it’s gotten worse these last couple of years.

He doesn’t know who he even is anymore. At least he doesn’t think he does.

Then you mentioned that he came to apologize. It must have meant a lot to you. It was weird for him to feel that aching in his chest, to feel like he fucked up. Even in the past when he’s done and said horrible things -- he never had such an ache.

Something about you just… sends him reeling.

Then he remembers what Leena said, “You better call me with all the details of your date.”

Was this a date? He didn’t even think of it in that way. It’s just two people eating… right?

Just a man and the… mother… of… his… child.

“I need whisky,” he mumbles to himself, standing up.

He hasn’t been on a date in God knows how long. He hasn’t spoken to a woman, truly spoken to one, in what feels like a millennia.

Picking up the empty bottle of whisky from the small bar caddy, he curses to himself.

He decides it’s in his best interest to go all the way to the kitchen to get a bottle. Even though his bedroom is just a floor down.

But, it certainly isn’t because you’re in the kitchen cooking. No. Not at all.

As he gets closer to the kitchen, he can smell different types of herbs and delicious meats cooking. He can smell raw peppers and onions and it makes his mouth water.

Yoongi watches you from afar for a minute, just standing on the last step of the stairwell. You’re humming, the song is sweet and calm. You have on a cute apron around your waist, with small smears of what seem to be a sauce of some kind on it.

He can feel his heart lightening at the simple sight of you. You look so… beautiful. So fucking domestic. And, he feels like he doesn’t even need the alcohol anymore because just watching you makes him drunk.

How bizarre.

“What’re we doing?” Maya whispers from next to the stairwell.

Yoongi practically jumps out of his skin at the sight of her, pressing his hand to his heart.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he whispers fiercely, trying to calm his erratic heartbeat.

He hears the older woman giggle and he rolls his eyes at her giddiness.

“I’m just getting whisky,” he mumbles aloud, still trying to keep quiet in case it would disturb you.

“Oh. I see. I can get it for you, Sir.” she replies and he grabs her wrist gently as she tries to walk away.

“No, no! I got it. It’s okay. I was just…” he can’t even complete his sentence.

What was he doing? Checking you out? He was just watching you, feeling so serene.

“You were being sweet, like I raised you. You were entranced by her.” Maya says.

He grimaces at her. “No! I was just… waiting to see if she burned down the kitchen or not.”

Maya giggles to herself before bowing her head. “Of course, Sir. I see that now.”

He rolls his eyes as she takes off to the maid’s quarter.

He watches you wave to Maya with a shy smile on your face.

“Goddammit,” he mutters, combing his fingers through his hair.

He takes small steps, trying his hardest not to disturb you as he walks by the long bar.

“Oh, hey Yoongi!”

Your voice is so sweet. Especially when you say his name.

“Smells good,” he calls to you, walking through the small hallway before appearing in the kitchen.

“Thanks! I hope you like it,” you reply happily as you stir something in the pot.

As he takes in your face, he snorts gently at a small stain by your cheek.

“I think you’re a messy cook,” he teases, walking towards you.

“Huh?” you ask confused.

Stepping in front of you, he taps his index finger to the underside of your chin.

“Look at me,” he instructs.

As you look up at him, he can feel himself falling into your eyes. You’re so doe-like and precious even when you don’t know it. It’s kind of miraculous.

Wiping his thumb over your cheek, he snorts gently. Your breath hitches in your throat as he strokes his thumb over you.

“What’re you making for dinner?” he asks, trying to distract himself from how soft your skin is.

“Well, I made a lot of things.” you reply, pulling your face away from him to look down at the pot.

He hums inquisitively, grabbing a glass off of a rack and pulling out the whisky.

“Do tell, little dove. You’re making me hungry,” he jeers, pouring himself a large portion of the alcohol.

“Well for the appetizer, I made brussel sprouts with parmesan and bacon and a small salad. For the soup, I made a soybean sprout soup. And, the main course is veal with lemon butter sauce and glazed carrots.” you tell him proudly.

He begins to smirk at how pleased you are with yourself.

“Sounds good, I’m excited,” he replies, lifting his glass.

You giggle gently, turning off the burner underneath the pot.

Leaning down on the marble island across from him, you rub your hands together.

“I hope you like it,” you whisper.

You sound shy now and it peeks his interest. You’re like a frail flower. It’s so difficult to get a read on you or put you in a category. But, maybe that’s how it should be. You shouldn’t just be one specific way, you should be well rounded. And he thinks you’ve got that.

“I’m sure I will. Although, didn’t I put in the contract that you shouldn’t be eating so much?”

Finally for once it doesn’t come out as gruff and angry, it was meant to be a joke. Luckily for him, it came out that way.

You find yourself smiling, almost having the urge to stick your tongue out at him playfully.

“I haven’t been able to cook in a long time, this feels nice. Eating a lot once in a while isn’t so bad,” you counter good-naturedly.

He raises his glass at your words. “Touche. Little dove, touche.”

You lean your head on your shoulder, your fingers skimming over each other as you look down at the marble beneath you. For once, the silence isn’t awkward or uncomfortable. It’s pleasant.

“Was it nice to see Leena this morning?” he knows the answer, but he wants to see you smile wider.

And so you do. Brimming from ear to ear, you nod.

“So nice! I’m so happy that I got to see her,” you admit, looking up at him.

“Well, she can come over whenever she wants. It’s in the contract,” he suggests.

“I didn’t know if I wanted her to come over yet, y’know. With Sera around and stuff…” your answer falls flat as Yoongi chuckles across from you.

“That’d be like putting two piranhas in a tank and seeing who wins,” he chuckles.

You snort gently, pointing at him. “Exactly.”

He watches you fix things up around the kitchen, cleaning as you go.

And finally he speaks after some time. “What can I do to help?”

Humming you shrug with a smirk. "I got it. Why don't you go relax for a while?" you suggest.

As you go to lift the pot, Yoongi whistles loudly as if to tell you to stop.

"I read that pregnant women shouldn't be lifting anything heavy. Don't even think about it. I got it," he insists, waving his hand for you to move.

"You read something?" your voice is wrapped with humor as you move over.

"Very funny, little dove. Go set up the table," he instructs with an ever present smirk on his face.

Yoongi leans back in his seat, his stomach was full of delicious food by now but he can't stop picking at his plate. A true testament to how great of a cook you are.

"Damn." he whispers, wiping his mouth with his napkin.

You smirk across the table, your arms folding with pride.

"Good?" you ask softly, grabbing your drink.

"Very good. I'm impressed," he says as he slings his arm over the top of his chair.

You giggle gently, your head lolling back to look at the clear night sky.

"Who taught you how to cook?" he asks, watching as you count the stars.

So here it is. Will he be as truthful as you? Will he talk to you?

"My parents. My dad always liked cooking more than my mother. She was sick a lot when I was young. Always in the hospital. So my dad got comfort from making her food and I used to take it to her," you answer, looking back down at him.

Yoongi nods gently, it's starting to click in his mind. "That's why you hate hospitals?"

"That's why I hate hospitals. There was a time when she was admitted for a bad stomach ache and she got worse in the hospital because the bedding and the nurses weren't clean." you reply breathlessly.

The father of your child cringes at the thought, taking a sip of his whisky.

"You?"

Yoongi takes a deep, slow breath. He stares at your face and the task at hand is daunting. If people didn't already know him, he didn't open up. But, he should open up to you.

Or he thinks so anyway. You're having his child, you should know about him. And maybe if he speaks his history then it will break the cycle. Then he won't turn into his parents, he won't have a fucked up kid like himself.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," you say quickly.

You can see him wrought with nervousness. Just the prospect of letting things out must terrify him.

"No, I should talk about them. If not with you then surely a therapist," he jokes out of worry.

But, then he looks at your face. He feels that sense of dizzying calm once more. Like everything is going to be okay.

He chugs the rest of his whisky, his mouth watering and grimacing.

"No, I don't know how to cook. I'm not even sure my parents know how to cook-" he lets out a breath, letting the warm fire of the alcohol in his belly keep him going, "-they never took care of me. I was born and they were relieved to have a boy so they didn't have to try again."

You hum sadly at his words, tucking your legs beneath you as he runs his hand over his face.

"Maya has always taken care of me. She's always loved and cared for me. She's my mother by all accounts, if I'm being honest. My father was a very big disciplinarian… if that's what you want to call it. Most people would say abusive," he says, pouring himself another glass of whisky.

"Kneeling on rice, getting hit with sharp objects, burning cigarettes out. Things like that," he waves off the notion with his hand, shivering while even speaking the words.

Your heart breaks for him, thinking of how painful that must have been when he was a child.

"I haven't seen my parents in… four years now, since I got married. I hate them." he spits at the ground beneath his feet.

You can see the emotional turmoil he's reliving. You can't imagine how difficult that is.

"I'm sorry," you whisper and he shakes his head fiercely.

Picking up his fork, he taps it gently to the fine china as he thinks.

"So I grew up hating authority because of them and the teachers at Sairmount. They always said I should be doing better because of my position and what I would grow into. I hated that. Even when I tried my best I received no praise, and if I made one mistake it was like the end of the world. So I ended up just kind of… becoming a shell."

You nod to his words, your index finger swirling around the rim of your glass.

"What else, little dove?" he asks softly.

As he tilts his head, you take in his handsome features. He's just a product of his environment. You wonder what he would be like if he could thrive.

"I heard that you go to BDSM clubs and stuff, is that because you feel the need to put people in pain like you were when you were younger?" you ask, trying to be considerate of his feelings.

He takes a sharp breath through his teeth almost as if you've burned him.

"Jesus. You might as well be my therapist," he mumbles, running his hand over his face.

But, he doesn't feel awkward talking to you. He likes this. He appreciates how you listen. How your eyes stay soft and you don't judge him.

"When I was younger -- I was probably sixteen when I developed a taste for it. I was getting angry and violent. I was breaking shit and I needed to funnel that into something. So I started going to a club and learned how to be a dom. It was about the comfort of being in charge. I would have a sub and tell them to jump. They would say how high. I thrived off of being in charge. Thrived off people doing my bidding sexually. It just felt right for me to tell someone what to do and have them want to do it for me. I was in charge, people listened to me, I didn't have to do things others wanted. People did what I wanted them to do. I've toned it down since then."

"You were pretty dominating with me," you offer softly.

He chuckles at how innocent you look, his index finger swiping slowly over his lower lip. "That's because you're so sweet. I wanted to wreck you."

With a gentle giggle, you put your elbow on the table before resting your head on your hand.

"You kind of did," you reply, putting your hand on your stomach.

His eyes follow your hand and he begins to smirk above his glass.

"Clearly," he whispers, his eyes slowly drifting up your body to your swollen tits.

He licks his lips slowly, his teeth tugging at his bottom lip gently.

He never understood the attraction to pregnant women like his friend Jimin. The younger man was obsessed with the notion of it and Yoongi couldn't possibly begin to grasp it. But now, with you sitting here before him, he might be beginning to understand.

Averting his eyes from you, he tries to keep his rampant thoughts at bay.

"What else do you want to know, little dove?" he asks, trying to distract himself.

Your cheeks puff out as you think, your fingers combing through your hair gently.

"Sera? What's with her. If you hate her so much why did you get married to her?" you whisper.

Well, that's something to kill the sexual mood he was starting to feel.

He spits on the ground at the simple name of her. He stares far off into the distance, his eyes lingering on a grove of trees Baeksoo has so kindly planted.

"Sera…" he mumbles, stretching out his legs.

You might as well know. You aren't going anywhere in his life.

"Jesus, I think about it everyday and it still makes me mad," he chuckles to himself, the sound bitter and full of resentment.

You watch his face contort in pain, just the simple memory making it hard to withstand.

Without a second thought you're moving your chair. The sound is loud as you move the heavy metal and he watches you with amused eyes. Finally, your seat is next to him and you huff out gently.

"What?" he asks gently as you plop back down.

You grab his hand, intertwining your fingers to bring him peace. His head lolls back against the chair, his eyes fluttering shut at the simple move. It's a simple thing to hold hands but it feels powerful when it's you.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," you say to him.

His thumb drifts over the back of your hand, his eyes opening to the numerous stars that hang brightly in the sky.

"Everyone knows I hate her but no one truly knows why. Maya, Joon, Hoseok, they know. Hell, Hoseok dives deep into her bitter cunt at night and he knows." he shakes his head gently, his eyes flitting from star to star.

You begin to bite your lip nervously as he squeezes your hand tighter.

"I didn't always hate her. I loved her once. I loved the prospect of her anyway," he breathes out, his hand gripping tighter at yours, "I was engaged at fourteen. It was mandatory, the leech's parents were friends with my parents. Their company was going down the drain, they almost had to declare bankruptcy. So this was the easiest thing for both parties. It's very normal in the high profile life to be engaged to someone else for money. It didn't bother me at all that I was engaged, so were the people around me. I thought I was going to have a life like Namjoon."

He snorts at the simple thought and mindlessly he tugs your hand with his over your stomach.

Just the thought of his baby inside of you brings him peace.

With a gentle sigh, he continues. "She didn't go to school with us and I had only seen her a few times at balls and galas. She was annoying back then and she was always brisk with people. But I liked that, I guess. Because I was the same way. I had a childish crush on her for so long and it kept growing as we got older."

He stops talking only to down another glass of whiskey. He closes his eyes as you run your hand comfortingly over his. "When I moved into this house, I had it renovated to please her. I did anything and everything to make her happy. And I was so… excited to have someone that was mine. Someone to spend the rest of my life with. I didn't want our marriage to be like my parents. And, now it's worse."

You find how sad he is depressing. Frowning, you click your teeth softly.

"I'm so sorry," you whisper.

Shaking his head, Yoongi looks at you. He gives you a sad smile. It's heart wrenching to look at his handsome face so distraught.

Even if he can be an asshole sometimes, you can understand him better now. That's all you wanted. You just wanted to be able to connect the dots.

"It was the night of our wedding, that's when I became aware of how awful of a person Sera is." he says, staring off into the distance.

He couldn't understand why she wanted to get married on New Years. It's freezing cold but if it makes her happy then he should do it. It'll be his duty as a husband anyhow.

"Come!" Taehyung whines to him as he sits in the booth.

"I'm not having sex with a woman the day before I'm getting married. That'd be such a dickish thing to do," he counters as Taehyung wraps his arms around the stripper beside him.

"You've been celibate for a year or some shit. You abstaining for the Lord or for the sake of your new bride is not going to make you a born again virgin, okay?" the younger man asks with a laugh, running his hand over the stripper's pert backside.

Rolling his eyes, the Kisung CEO takes a sip from his drink.

"It's not about being a born again virgin, you moron. It's about fidelity. It's about trust. She and I agreed that we would just be for each other." Yoongi barks out gruffly.

Taehyung grimaces at the simple thought. "Fine. Well whatever pact you have with your blushing new bride is depressing me. I'm going to get my dick wet with… Luna. That's your name, right?" the hotel CEO asks the woman on his arm.

She giggles loudly, the sound frightening and way too forced. "Laura, silly!"

"Yeah. That. Bye Hyung. Try to cheer the fuck up or something." Tae calls, picking the stripper up with his strong arms before swinging her over his shoulder.

Yoongi snorts loudly, his eyes flitting from here to there in the large strip club. This wasn't for him anymore. He would be married now. To a woman all his.

He's been living in this fantasy. Waking up on weekend mornings next to his wife, eating breakfast together. Having a few kids. Being able to enjoy each other's company.

He loves the idea of that. He's gone through so much terrible pain in his lifetime. Maybe, fate is telling him he deserves a reward now.

Standing up, he finishes the rest of his drink. He tosses a few hundred bucks onto the table before heading out.

He knows it's not customary to see his bride the night before the wedding but, maybe he can just have a talk with her. He's dying to see her.

For once, Yoongi let someone else take the penthouse besides him. Sera should be fully comfortable before her big day.

They bought out the whole hotel. She wanted to be married in Italy on New Years. She wanted diamonds dripping from the fucking ceiling and she would have it. She would have it all.

The walk from the strip club to the hotel wasn't far. Yoongi can see the lights on in the penthouse and his heart begins to hammer in delight at the thought of seeing her.

She's so fucking beautiful. Albeit, she can be a little irritating at times but who isn't? She's almost godly in his eyes.

He's been waiting for this day since he was fourteen. He can remember when Namjoon got engaged. How fucking against it he was.

Joon always wanted to do things his way. He wanted to pick who he was with, he wanted to be happy on his own. He despised Yoona for years before their big day a year ago. Then he found out how similar they are. He fell in love with everything she's in love with.

Yoongi hopes it'll be the same.

The ride up the elevator to the penthouse is quiet. Gentle muzak plays that seems to lull him into a false sense of security.

Sera might be really big on traditions. She might have him sit in the living room for them just to talk but that's okay too. Whatever she wants.

The elevator opens silently and Yoongi fixes his blazer in the hallway mirror. He smiles to himself softly, looking like nothing can bring him down from this cloud.

Until he hears it. Until he hears the gentle groaning of a man in his sexual pleasure.

"Oh fuck, Sera. Do it again, you filthy slut." he hears and his world comes crashing down around him.

"Yeah, fuck. You like that? Your cock is so much bigger than Yoongi's. I want you to come play with me during the week while he's at work," she sounds breathless.

The CEO's eyes flutter shut and he grips onto the table before him to keep him steady.

"Yeah. I'd bet you'd fucking like that. I bet you love the idea of me fucking your little cunt while your husband is away at work. Let me cum in your pussy before the cuck gets home. You'll let him in this pussy with my cum inside of you," the voice is that of Sera's driver. The one man Yoongi never even gave any thought to.

His hand feels for the wall. His legs are shaking by now and he slowly slides down the gold wall, pressing his hand over his mouth.

"Cum on my cock, you fucking slut."

The sound of her orgasming will never leave his brain. He can hear how pleased she is.

Yoongi in his past has had sex with others too. But, they promised to be faithful to one another. He believed her.

He can feel his eyes welling up with tears as he squeezes them shut tighter.

He thought fate was giving him a helping hand. He was going to be happy! What has he done so wrong in his life for misery to consistently stay?!

Heavy breathing is heard throughout the silent penthouse.

"Why did you promise that stupid fuck you would be only for him?" Jungmo, the driver, asks breathlessly.

Sera giggles, a sound once so adorable it brought Yoongi to his knees.

"Because I want his fucking money. There's no prenup if he thinks I'm all for him. He genuinely thinks that I love him. He thinks I care about whatever the fuck has happened in his miserable past. Do you know that he told me that his dad used to burn cigarettes out on his skin? I was supposed to feel sorry for him." Jungmo and Sera laugh along with one another.

Yoongi's mouth opens at the sheer atrocity he's listening to. She's so fucking cruel. How did he never see this? How could he have this happen to him?

"You were supposed to feel sorry for that billionaire while you're only sitting barely comfortable at seven million!?"

"I know, right?! The fucking nerve! Like, he doesn't even understand that my life has been so much worse! I had to almost go fucking bankrupt! Who gives a fuck about your sad past? What about me?"

The CEO tugs at the blazer fabric situated above his heart. He clamps his hand tighter over his mouth to stifle the sob raring to break free from his throat.

"I can't wait to take all his fucking money and leave him with only his sad little memories."

Crawling over to the elevator, he pushes the button softly. Praying to God that it doesn't make any noise when it opens.

She's such a cruel bitch. So fucking vile.

He stands up on shaky legs as the door opens without a sound. Pushing the button for the floor below him, he waits until the door closes.

He waits until he is safe in his room.

He wails loudly, falling onto the carpeted flooring of the hotel room. He gasps for air, hands digging and pulling at his hair.

He cries for an hour, maybe more. Time seemingly stops in his distraught state.

When he calms himself down, he pulls out his phone. He crawls over to the bar caddy, wiping viciously at the tears he's spilled for the woman upstairs.

Yoongi doesn't even grab a glass, he just pulls the bottle of whisky down to the floor.

Sitting back against the long bar of the room, he dials the only number he can right now.

The sound of the phone ringing is so loud, it makes him want to weep all over again.

"Yoongi? It's two in the morning, what the fuck?" Namjoon calls blearily, through the phone.

"Joon… Please come to my room." his voice cracks and breaks as he picks up the bottle of whisky.

"Jesus, are you okay?" his best friend asks quickly.

"I need… I need a prenup. Please. Come." Yoongi begs, lifting the bottle to his lips.

"I'm coming! Hold on!" Joon calls to him before the line goes dead.

He gulps down the whisky at a ferocious speed, the liquor swirling and settling in his guts. The fire flaming and goading him on to no avail.

"YOU FUCKING WHORE!" he screams at the top of his lungs.

Yoongi launches the bottle across the room, burying his face into his knees as the sound of glass echoes all around him.

"Oh Yoongi. I'm so sorry," you whisper, clutching tighter to his hand.

Yoongi finds himself laughing at the memory now. He was so blind back then. So lovestruck.

"Nothing that isn't fixed now, little dove. Now we're both trapped in this marriage." his voice is devoid of emotion as he picks up the liquor bottle.

You can see how hurt he is even now. How reliving the memory is something akin to death to him.

You lean in towards his body. You press your lips to his cheek and he grabs you tighter at the feeling.

"Maybe that's why I liked you in the club? Because you seemed so completely opposite of the whore that lives in my house," he says finally as you pull away.

He turns his face to you, your lips just mere inches apart.

Yoongi lifts his hand, placing it gently on your cheek.

"You're a good girl, Y/N. You're so kind and sweet. Fucking understanding. You're going to be a great mother. I'm so sorry that you have to deal with me. Deal with an asshole every day. It isn't fair to you," he whispers, his thumb grazing over the apple of your cheek.

His hand is so warm against your skin, so soft. He's being so gentle.

"You're not an asshole. Not truly." you reply softly.

With a snort, he rolls his eyes. "See. You're almost too kind."

You giggle as his hand drifts down the column of your neck, his thumb rubbing over your jawline.

"I'm serious. You can be an asshole, for sure. But it's because of all the terrible things that have happened to you. If you were happy, really and truly happy. You might flourish. You might be able to find yourself again." you reply.

It comes out as a suggestion but it's really a wish. No one should ever be put through what he has had happen to him.

He tilts his head unsurely, pulling away from you.

"You're going to be a great dad. I won't let you be anything but a good dad to your child. No one is perfect, Yoongi. We can do this together." you say, earnestly.

Together.

The word makes his heart rate pick up speed.

You're pretty perfect in his eyes.

He can tell as you sit with one another, how heavy your eyelids are getting.

"You're tired," he observes.

"No, I'm okay!" you reply quickly to him.

He clicks his teeth, eyes narrowing at you. "We're going to be truthful with each other from here on in. Are you tired?"

With a hesitant hum, you nod. "A little. The baby makes me tired a lot these days."

"Okay." Yoongi whispers finitely.

Standing up, he moved your chair for you. With a simple grunt, he picks you up in his arms bridal style.

"I can walk!" you whine, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"So can I." he jeers cutely.

Wading with sure steps through the house, you find how easy it is for him to look down at you. His eyes are soft when they look upon you now. Like telling you about his life has taken a huge weight off of his shoulders.

He kicks open your bedroom door with a smirk.

"There would have been a time I would have died to bring you up here to ravage you," he says, goodnaturedly.

"You still can." you sing softly as he lays you down on your bed.

"We'll see, hmm?" he whispers as he lifts the covers for you.

"Stay," you mumble, arranging the pillows to your liking.

"You want me to sleep with you?!" Yoongi feels frightened at the notion.

"Yeah… just stay. Don't leave me," you whisper as you close your eyes.

He hesitantly walks around to the other side of the bed. He fumbles with his pants and his shirt almost embarrassingly so.

Yoongi hasn't laid with anyone in years. He hasn't thought about doing so in ages.

"Did you leave?" your voice is just above a whisper.

He watches you for a second, how pretty and serene you look with your hair splayed over the pillow.

"No, little dove. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere," he replies, laying down beside you.

Swallowing thickly, he gets comfortable under the same covers as you.

This is bizarre.

Tiredly, you pull his hand. His eyes go wide as you situate it over your stomach.

"It's not a big deal, Yoongi. Just sleep." You mumble as you turn onto your back.

He can feel the tiny bump developing under his hand.

It is a big deal.

To him.

He brushes some hair out of your face gently.

Maybe Sera wasn't his start to a new life. Maybe it's you.

Next Chapter ---->

Third wheeling Taglist - @wickizer, @imluckybitches, @slothykreuger, @claireelise19, @ggukkieland, @rspbrryy, @iv-bts, @bambuzlee, @chanelbts, @mxxngxdss, @bluewhale52, @milesjeon11, @diamonddia-mond, @vinylphwoar, @yxnxxli, @hubbytaehyung, @140503at-dawn, @bts-7beauts, @jadeblackwoll, @sunshiine-hobii, @creatorspalace, @eclectically-esoteric, @nikkiordonez12, @kaitswrld, @skamlover200, @sevgilove98, @kooeuphoria, @jikooksgirl19, @hobbledehoy26, @singular-itae, @dchimminie, @lowlifeoeuvre, @sugaslittlekookies, @bloopbloopb, @pjmcth, @softysuho, @codeinbelle, @jaiuneamesolitaiire, @betysotelo18, @jeonmisha, @iwanttohitmyself, @ayyyocee, @neverthefirstchoice, @itsbangtanoclock, @little7bitchh, @veryuniquenamegoeshere, @deathkat657, @firstlovesuga-93, @namjoonia, @paperpurple, @muzikabijou, @liebeoppa, @veronawrites, @kleff03, @ruinsofangels, @brightwingr5, @leekanchol, @rkivemagic, @ithinkileftmycoatoutside, @melaninkpops, @y00ngisbabygirl, @ungodlyjoon, @prochnost513, @dunixxd, @athenakyle, @igotnotype, @chxmachxps, @tinymintyoongi, @vangameren-blog, @alpaca1612, @ohcarolinamin, @thegreatestsushi, @jooniebuggy, @eltrain80, @btsmylife21, @deeepvibes, @httpminyg, @deliciouslydisturbed365, @rkchmestizangmaldita, @jimin-chu, @pimpnameyannie, @preciouschimine, @daughterofthequeen, @monetsberet, @vanillamyg, @aamxxrii, @kooafraid, @ladykadyrova, @singjisu, @yazanii, @moonlitmyg, @justzeera, @absolutefantrash, @whocaresarchives, @loosewindmill

#third wheeling #ficswithluv #btscreatorscorner #btswritingcafe #thebtswritersclub #ceo!yoongi #ceo!bts #angst #bad memories

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nmikaelsonimagines · 3 years

Text

Right Where You Left Me: A Klaus Mikaelson Imagine

Request from @s-r-amikaelson: hi, lovely, i saw your "Evermore" list, so could please do a Klaus x Reader with the song "right where you left me" from Taylor? Kisses, sweetie

Hope this is okay for you lovely, and enjoy x

Want to hear the song? Find a link to it just below:

Right Where You Left Me

Friends break up, friends get married Strangers get born, strangers get buried Trends change, rumors fly through new skies

He wouldn’t be there to see it all happen.

Klaus wouldn’t be by your side, watching the world change like he had for so many centuries. He wouldn’t watch your friends get married, the idea of your own wedding disintegrating before your very eyes.

He wouldn’t be there to watch his daughter grow up, to watch her become the bright young girl that she was destined to be. He wouldn’t be there to listen to you tell her stories all about her father, to watch you cry in the shadows when she was fast asleep, missing him deeply.

He wouldn’t be there to watch humans crumble into ash, as they always did, buried in the New Orleans graveyard where their loved ones came to see them. He wouldn’t be there to watch any of it.

He wouldn’t be there to watch the seasons change, the leaves falling, holding your hand as you walked through the woods, talking about everything and nothing.

That’s what ran through your head when he looked at you for the final time, sorrow in his eyes, when he whispered that single word that only you could hear.

“Run.”

And you did, his screams as Marcel plunged that dagger into him echoing in your ears for years to come.

But I'm right where you left me Matches burn after the other Pages turn and stick to each other

One year.

One year without him. Hope was three now, walking and calling you her auntie. She had picked up a particular affinity for colouring in, not quite staying in the lines, but that didn’t matter. She had adopted her father’s artistic ability, it seemed.

You looked over at her latest picture, telling Hayley you would tidy up, letting the hybrid get an early night. Hope was already in bed, fast asleep.

You hadn’t slept in a year. Not when you knew that Klaus was in unimaginable pain. Maybe it would have been better if you had the support of his family around, but they were just as incapacitated. You picked up Hope’s picture and made your way to the attic.

It was dark, and you struck a match to light the candle on the wall, the only source of light in that dingy old place. Four coffins came into your view and you strode over to the nearest one. Elijah.

You picked up the book you had left there from the night before and sat. The pages stuck together, but that was its age. “You’re missing out on this one, Elijah. Klaus always told you it was a good read.”

And you started to read, Hope’s picture on your lap as you were reminded of her father, voice catching as you tried not to cry.

Wages earned and lessons learned But I, I'm right where you left me

Two years.

Two years without him. Hope had just turned four, her artistic ability improving as she had gotten better at staying in the lines. The question she asked you still echoed in your ears, your heart hurting as you answered it with a smile. “Do you think Daddy will like this when he comes home, Auntie Y/N?”

When he comes home. Her innocent hopefulness kept you sane most days.

You had gotten a job now, a waitress in a restaurant downtown where no-one knew your name or who your family was. It was something to get you out of the house, to keep your mind off the thought of Klaus going through hell. At first, it had been great, but then your boss had put you on night shifts, and that was when the undesirables came out to play.

You hung your coat up before making your way up to the attic, the ghost of that man’s hands still making you cringe. It wasn’t the first time someone had shown more than an interest in you, but you had always had someone to help you escape.

You walked over to her coffin and sat. You put your hand on the lid, and sighed. “Hey, Bex. Could have used you today.” Rebekah was always the one to get you out of those sorts of situations, usually with a threatening comment. “Klaus would have lost his mind.”

Klaus, always the jealous type, would have run to avenge you. You had always moaned about it, but this time, you realised you missed it.

Missed him.

Help, I'm still at the restaurant Still sitting in a corner I haunt Cross-legged in the dim light

Three years.

Three years without him. Hope was five now, and had moved from colouring in to painting. You had bought her a set of block paints for her birthday and were more than happy to watch her paint flowers with five red petals and a yellow centre, green stalks leading down to two leaves at the bottom. More often than not, she ended up with more of it on her hands than on the paper, and she liked to make you laugh by painting your cheeks with it.

To make you smile for when Daddy comes home, she would say, your heart breaking.

You had quit your job after one too many handsy customers. You were just happy to be the woman in the corner of the restaurant, staring at a whiskey, passers-by telling you to cheer up because it might never happen.

You stumbled home after such an occurrence, alcohol slurring your movements. They were right, you needed some fun, but the only person you could think of having such fun with was lying in a coffin. Up in the attic again, you made your way over to where Kol Mikaelson rested, perhaps in more danger than any of his siblings.

“Don’t you die on me, you git.” You patted the lid of the coffin, the familiar nickname rolling off your tongue. “I need someone to get into trouble with.” You chuckled, remembering. “Someone else for Klaus to shout at.”

Klaus, whose shouts had been turned into agonising screams.

They say, "What a sad sight" I, I swear you could hear a hair pin drop Right when I felt the moment stop

Four years.

Four years without him. Hope was a lively six-year-old now, and her artistic skills had improved greatly. Actual pictures were created now, an ability to rival anyone of her age, maybe even her father one day. But you still held onto that first coloured-in picture, keeping it safe to show to Klaus when he came home.

When. You tried to hold onto Hope’s optimism, but it had been four years now and you were finding it difficult. You still held onto your spot in the corner of the restaurant, watching customers look at you with pity in their eyes. The worst was the recently engaged couple, the woman’s hair pinned up to make her look like a film star.

Once, you had got ready for parties and made an effort to look like that. But, you’d always had help from a friend, a sister really. Of course, that witch was now sleeping with her siblings.

You sat by Freya’s coffin, cross-legged, and laid your head on the lid. “You would have loved her dress, Freya. She walked in and it was like everything just stopped. You remember when people used to look at us like that?” You smiled, remembering your entrances to such parties. “But all I ever cared about was Klaus.”

He would take your arm and lead you to the dance floor, laughing as you tried not to step on his toes.

You had never wanted to dance more.

Glass shattered on the white cloth Everybody moved on, I, I stayed there Dust collected on my pinned-up hair

Five years.

Five years without him. Hope was now seven, a fact that didn’t seem possible. You looked at her in the garden, her little easel set up as she painted, the sun shining down on her. You took a sip of your water, having moved away from alcohol at Hayley’s request. When Klaus came home, he wouldn’t want the love of his life to be a drunken mess, and Hope certainly didn’t want that of her auntie.

When. It seemed like such a useless word. The world was changing before your eyes, and you were still here, waiting for something that would probably never happen. Hayley told you to keep the faith, but it was getting harder and harder with each day that passed. Speaking of, the hybrid walked over and took a seat next to you.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?” You continued to sip at your drink, looking at Hope.

“Look at me.” You turned to face Hayley, a smile playing on her lips. Her next words made you drop the glass you were holding, fragments scattering over the white tablecloth. But neither of you cared as the dust that had gathered on you as a result of waiting blew away.

“Y/N, it’s time.”

Time to get your family back. Time to get him back. Time for Klaus to come home.

They expected me to find somewhere Some perspective, but I sat and stared

Five years and two days.

Five years and two days without him. Hope was excited to see her father, as were you. You had volunteered to stay and look after her while Hayley went to save the day. She had looked surprised when you suggested such a thing, but understood when you told her that you weren’t quite sure if you could face Klaus in that state, his screams from five years ago still waking you up in the night.

You sat on the sofa, staring into space, waiting and wondering. A small figure curling up next to you snapped you out of your thoughts. Hope. She should have been in bed, and you told her as much. She shook her head, and you knew she couldn’t sleep. Holding her hand tight, you led her back to her room. And that was when she asked.

“Tell me something about Dad.”

You smiled, knowing the perfect place to start. The story of how you met him, of how you had fallen in love with him, about how he was kind and gentle, fierce and protective when he needed to be. It wasn’t long before Hope had fallen asleep and you moved away as so not to wake her.

Then the headlights glared through the window.

Then, as Klaus had told you five years and two days ago, you ran.

Only this time, it wasn’t away from him.

Right where you left me You left me no, you left me no You left me no choice but to stay here forever

Five years, two days and three minutes.

Five years, two days and three minutes without him. Hope was fast asleep, but you didn’t care if you woke her when you opened the front door with such force, it hit the wall. You didn’t care when you saw them. Elijah, your reading partner. Rebekah, your wing-woman. Kol, your partner in crime. Freya, your dearest friend.

And then-

Klaus. He hadn’t noticed you yet, talking to his siblings. But when he turned, the smile in his lips transforming into a look of shock, everything stopped. You felt your heart heal itself when he walked towards you, disbelief in every step. “Hello.”

“Hi, Klaus.”

“You stayed?” You smiled, knowing that Klaus had always believed he didn’t deserve you, probably thought you would take his absence as an opportunity to move on.

“You kind of didn’t give me a choice.” You shrugged nonchalantly, earning a confused look from him. “I love you, you idiot.”

And then that shock turned back into a smile, a grin that stretched for miles. “And I you, Y/N.”

Five years, two days and three minutes.

You would never go that long without Klaus Mikaelson by your side again. You would make sure of that.

Masterlist

Evermore Masterlist

#TVD #tvd imagine #tvd imagines #the vampire diaries #to #the originals #the originals imagine #the originals imagines #klaus mikaelson imagine #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson imagines #klaus mikaelson x reader #niklaus mikaelson #niklaus mikaelson imagines #niklaus mikaelson imagine #niklaus mikaelson x reader #Joseph Morgan

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barnesbabee · 3 years

Text

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴇɪɢʜᴛ- ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀʟᴀɴᴅ

WONDERLAND MASTERLIST

⇜ ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ - ᴇɪɢʜᴛ- ɴᴇxᴛ ⟿

CHARACTER LIST:

White Rabbit - Choi Jongho Absolem (Blue Catterpilar) - Kang Yeosang Cheshire Cat - Kim Hongjoong Mad Hatter - Choi San Haigha (March Hare) - Jung Wooyoung Tweedle Dee - Song Mingi Tweedle Dum - Jeong Yunho Bloody Red King - Park Seonghwa

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @myunvillage @mirror-juliet @jess-1404 @earth-to-leiki [Send me a DM, an ask or comment to be added to the tag list]

“The stars sure look beautiful today.”

From that night on you and Seonghwa continuously exchanged shy glances, and even the simplest touch would make you blush, as you both reminisced what had happened that night. You anxiously waited for the day you would finally belong to each other, and as the night approached, the both of you started feeling butterflies all over your body.

You had decided the wedding would be small. Not because you weren't extravagant, but because none of you had friends, so it wouldn't make sense to throw a big party. Although the King, without your knowledge, had ordered the most beautiful wedding dress, and he couldn't wait for you to see it.

One day, you decided to take a peek at the ballroom, where the wedding would be taking place. You could see he tried to minimize the red and black, but it was stronger than him. It did look beautiful though... The gold chandelier lit up the sparkly room, decorated with rose petals cut in the shape of a heart, and several portraits of you and the King beside each other. You wondered when those had been painted, but you were honoured. Your heart was clenching in adoration as you noticed the contrast between the portraits all around the castle compared to those. Every painting of the King you had seen so far was of him with a stone-cold expression, but in all of these you were both smiling, laughing, or looking at each other lovingly. The King make sure to capture his favourite moments in all of these paintings, from the day you met, to the picnic in the garden.

"Thank you, Miss."

You were startled to hear a voice behind you while you peeked through the barely opened door. You jumped slightly and turned around, but calmed down once you saw it was one of the maids. She was looking at you with her big, sparkly frog eyes. At some point, it freaked you out, but after seeing them every day you got used to the frog people.

"You're welcome ma'am, but what might you be thanking me for?" You asked, quite confused.

"You've made our lives infinitely better with your presence. Our King has really changed... He said 'thank you' the other day. I have worked for him for a decade and not once had I heard those words from him. He treats us like people, not like servants. You are a blessing, Miss."

You smiled at the maid, a sad yet sympathetic smile.

"I know it's a lot to ask, but I beg of you, give him another chance. Seonghwa is but a neglected, traumatized child in an adult man's body, and I'm trying to help him become a better person."

"I cannot promise anything Miss, but if he truly shows the people mercy and compensates them for all we've been through, the people might give him another chance."

You gave her a slight nod, and thanked the maid for her honesty.

"Hey!" A voice called from up the stairs.

The maid excused herself, and you looked at the staircase, to find a distressed Seonghwa running down towards you.

"Did you see the room?" He asked arms crossed over his chest.

You stayed quiet for a second and looked away from the man who stood apprehensively in front of you.

"No?" You lied.

"Aw come on! I wanted it to be a surprise! I knew I should've covered that paintings."

The image of a sulking Seonghwa was the most adorable thing you had ever seen. You wrapped your arms around his waist and laid your head on his chest.

"I'm sorry, but I was too curious..." You paused and looked up at the man "If it serves any consolation, I was very surprised, and I loved it."

"Really?" He happily asked, flashing you his pearly whites.

You hummed in agreement, earning a small kiss from the man.

"Well, the surprises aren't over. There's a couple more, starting with tonight's dinner."

Before you could ask what he meant, Seonghwa grabbed your hand and dragged you towards a small room in the attic. It took a while to go up all of the marble stairs, and you were out of breath once you reached the room, but it was worth it.

The King gripped the golden handle of the red, wooden door, while looking at you with a big grin. Once he pushed it open, the most beautiful sight was prepared for you. The roof of the small room had a beautiful glass skylight, and the stars looked down at you as you stepped inside. There were white rose petals scattered all over the dark wooden floor, and a small table with two chairs sat in the middle. On the wall right in front of you was a lit fireplace, and the table was set for two, with the most beautiful cutlery you had ever seen. You noticed a letter sitting on one of the dishes, that you assumed was directed at you.

"I, uh... I learned to like white roses." Seonghwa said, embarrassed.

You remember the first time you met when he freaked out over the white roses in the garden. He moved to stand behind one of the chairs, and pulled it back.

"Come, sit down."

You obliged and sat down on the chair he held out of you The male sat in front of you and motioned towards the letter.

"Tomorrow we get married, and there are many things I want to tell you, but I can't. So I wrote it down."

You grabbed the letter and opened it. The King's calligraphy was beautiful and easy to read, but it didn't surprise you: everything about him was very neat.

'Dearest Y/N,

I'm sorry you have to read this, instead of hearing me say it, but I know that if I were to tell you how I feel, half of my sentiments would be left unsaid. I have lived a short life that felt very, very long. These years have dragged on relentlessly, but ever since you arrived, time flies. I hate going to sleep and I can't wait to wake up, to be with you, to look at you, to kiss you... I have had many experiences that I thought were love, but the second I laid eyes on you, I knew all of those previous times were wrong, I finally knew what love was. And recently I've come to find that love isn't only one thing, because somehow my love for you grows in many ways every day I spend with you. You may call me crazy, but there's nothing I wouldn't do for you, and I will keep my promise of changing to be a better King. Even if you stop loving me, even if you leave me, I will hold up my promise as proof of my everlasting love for you. But I must confess, I've imagined us growing old together, and one day, when I pass the crown onto my future child, I hope it is your child as well.

Forever yours,

Seonghwa.'

Tears streamed down your cheeks like two rivers and your bottom lip trembled as you read the letter.

"Ah, those are happy tears! Correct?"

You set down the letter and wiped away said tears with your wrists.

"Yes, yes they are. This was beautiful, Seonghwa, thank you."

"I'm afraid that's as far as the surprises go today, because when it comes to dinner," Seonghwa paused, revealing two sandwiches that would be your meal "I'm afraid it's mediocre. I tried my best but everything I made came out raw or burned, I'm afraid this is as far as my cooking abilities go."

You were surprised and very touched that he had done it all by himself, even if it were just some lousy sandwiches.

"You made dinner by yourself? Well, my good Sir, they must be delicious." You joked as you took one of them.

They weren't good, but they weren't bad either, and you appreciated the effort that had gotten into them. You imagined what kind of King Seonghwa would have been if the previous King had chosen to raise Seonghwa instead of his sister... Surely a kind, caring King that everyone looked up to, one every eligible young woman (and man) would bad their eyelashes at. It was truly a shame... But it wasn't too late for a change, you were hopeful.

You spent that night together, cuddling and telling stories while looking at the starry sky, and you eventually fell asleep on the many pillows Seonghwa had sprawled on the floor.

The next day, you woke up with a smile, remembering that your wedding was in a few hours.

You laid on top of Seonghwa and kissed him.

"Wake up sleepy head."

Seonghwa smiled, wrapped his arms around you and flipped the two of you, so you'd be under him.

"Good morning princess."

You help his face in your hands and smiled.

"After today I'll be a Queen."

"My Queen."

Your sappy moment was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Sir, Miss, I'm afraid we must commence dressing you for the wedding."

The King peeled himself off of you with a groan (but not before kissing you). He helped you get up, and the two of you followed the maid that took you both to your assigned fitting rooms. Seonghwa had picked his own suit, but you had no idea what he had in store for you. The second you opened the door, you were met with the most beautiful dress you had ever even imagined. It was white, with a tight corset that expanded into a glamorous princess-like puffy tulle. The tulle had many layers, and its bottom was decorated with pearls. The corset, while sleeveless and heart-shaped, had lace appliques that covered your chest and arms, and the torso was decorated with many sparky stones. The veil was equally decorated with pearls and had a tiara attached to it.

Attached to the dress there was a letter.

'They say white symbolizes faith. I have faith in you and in our marriage. Much love, Seonghwa.'

The maids helped you dress, very carefully and with care. They truly seemed to like you. One of them even fixed your hair in a pretty bun and attached the veil to it.

They had spent around an hour fixing everything, and when you were almost done, the door opened.

"The King is waiting for Miss Y/N."

And that was your queue to leave the room. You carefully walked down the stairs and made your way to the big ballroom, once the doors opened, with the announcement of your name, your eyes fell on Seonghwa, who was staring at you happily, in his new look. His hair was slicked back, no longer covering his eye, displaying it proudly, no longer ashamed of his past. His suit matched your dress: it was white and fit him neatly, and it only served as proof that Seonghwa looked good in any colour.

You noticed the crowd in the room, but you weren't too surprised. Although you had decided to hold a small wedding and not invite anyone, you two knew the people would want to see who was brave enough to marry their King, so the man opened the castle doors for anyone who wanted to witness the wedding.

To say the people were surprised to see the King smile was an understatement, but the fact was that he was smiling, and the smile grew wider for every step you took towards him.

The ceremony went beautifully. There were tears in your eyes and in Seonghwa's eyes, and as you celebrated and sealed the marriage, everyone clapped (to you and Seonghwa's surprise).

Everything went perfectly, until the toast. Seonghwa suggested a toast in your behalf after the maids handed every citizen a glass, and when you took a sip, your body felt weird, and you started shrinking, and shrinking, and shrinking until you looked like Thumbelina.

"Y-Y/N!?" Seonghwa asked frantically, as he looked at tiny you standing on the table.

"Tweedles, now!" Someone roared from the crowd.

The Tweedles grabbed you and tossed you over to the Hatter, who had been concealed in the crowd this whole time. After hearing about the wedding, the Hatter decided he would use the certain crowd and commotion to blend in and enter the castle. Without anyone noticing, Cheshire sprinkled some of Absolem's shrinking cake into your drink.

The Hatter grabbed you gently and Bayard came running in. He placed you on the dog and reached for his pocket to retrieve some cake as well.

The King, noticing what was happening before his very eyes, panicked. Tears streamed down his eyes and his bottom lip quivered.

"No! Please don't steal her away! Please!" He begged, running towards the group with one hand stretched out, hoping he could get to the dog before they left but to no avail.

The Hatter just laughed and shrunk himself, giving Bayard the signal to leave. The card knights tried to follow the dog but he was too fast, and there was no time to get the horses before losing sight of the dog. You were gone.

The King fell to his knees, and cried, as he stopped seeing you from the distance.

"Please, don't take her away from me..."

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zodiyack · 3 years

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Cillian Murphy Masterlist

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Taglist(s)

★ = smut

⋆ = presmut

♡ = fluff

☁ = angst

☠ = death

Cillian Murphy

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Jonathan Crane

Fics And More ~

Hereditary ♡

(Request) Nicolas, son of Jonathan and Y/n Crane, has an urge to fear or be around fear, almost like an addiction. However, it’s likely much more normal than that, his father having the same urge for years.

Robert Fischer

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Thomas ‘Tommy’ Shelby

Social Media/Text Imagines ~

Chat Thingies (Random Cute Stuff) ~

Random Tommy x reader