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#like YES finally they allowed her to be happy
murdockparker · 1 day
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Roses and Regrets - Part 1
Anthony Bridgerton x Reader
Summary: Freshly out of mourning, Lady Barlow, née (Y/L/N), makes her re-debut in society. If only she could simply ignore a certain viscount...
Word Count: 2.7k
Warnings: none. enemies to lovers!!
A/N: I didn't expect this lil requested fic to turn into such an event, let alone a multi-part story! so, you're welcome or I'm sorry?
next part
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She was perfectly happy. 
Well, supposedly right now she wasn’t. 
Her husband, Lord Barlow, had passed away ten months ago, leaving her with an empty estate, a shiny title and more money than she knew what to do with. Lord Barlow was an old viscount, desperate for an heir and willing to do anything to get one. 
In came Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N).
Young, beautiful and well-bred, she was the perfect choice for any man of the ton. If only her father hadn’t a penchant for gambling. Perhaps she’d be married to a man more suited for her rather than the oaf of a dustbin she was forced to be with. She was no fool in believing in a love match for herself, rare and far between as they were, no, but she did have half a mind to imagine a kinder man as her husband. A man who perhaps cared even a little bit for her wellbeing. 
No matter. 
A dead man cannot care for her wellbeing either. 
“Lady Barlow,” a maid knocked, entering the ornate drawing room.
“Yes?” (Y/N) did not look up from her reading—the newest edition of Whistledown had just been delivered. While she herself was never one to gossip terribly, it was quite fun to keep up with the circus of the season. 
“Do you plan on attending the Danbury ball this eve?”
“I do not see the point,” she scoffed playfully, “after all, Meg, I am but a widow in mourning.”
“Perhaps her ladyship should reconsider?” Meg asked gently, placing a new pot of tea next to her lady. “I rather think it has been a socially acceptable amount of time since your husband’s passing.”
“If I am not to enjoy the perks of being a widow,” (Y/N) sighed, finally looking up at her favorite lady’s maid, “whatever is the point?”
“Perks that Viscount Barlow has graciously allowed you to use during your time of mourning—”
“The current viscount is all but twelve,” (Y/N) reminded. “He has no use for this estate in Mayfair until he himself becomes an adult, in which, I am sure he and his mother will come to make use of it. I believe if my maths are correct, that leaves me all of six years or so to use this home.”
“Forgive me my lady, but should you not be looking for a new husband, then?”
(Y/N) smiled at Meg. She enjoyed their friendship, her maid being only a handful of years older than herself, it made for a likely pair. “No one wishes to marry a widow,” she said simply, “widows are damaged goods. Every sensible man of the ton will be wanting a pretty little virgin instead.”
“My lady!”
“What?” She barked a laugh. “You know it to be true.”
“Regardless,” Meg said, clearing her throat. “Lord Barlow passed nearly a year ago, the period of mourning is rightfully over. You are expected to rejoin society.”
“Dreadful.”
“It is expected,” Meg repeated.
“It does not make it any less dreadful,” (Y/N) said. “Very well. Pull a dress and prepare a bath, it seems the ton gets to see my dreary face once again.”
Anthony Bridgerton was a man scorned. 
Particularly by his own mother in this very instance. How foolish he had been to share his intentions of marriage this season with her—for now she spread the news like a wildfire. Every desperate mama and her equally desperate daughter came flocking to him like bees to honey. 
It was only now, in the dark corner of the ballroom, that he found a respite.
“Looking a bit green, Lord Bridgerton,” a voice beside him called out. 
“I am not—” Anthony had huffed a reply before even knowing whom he was speaking to. “Lady Barlow.”
“I am shocked you can recall my name,” (Y/N) laughed over her champagne flute. “Considering how many new ones you’ve had thrown at you this eve.”
“You are out of mourning.”
“Is that a question?”
“It was an observation,” Anthony corrected.
“What gave it away? My bright dress? No tear stains left on my cheeks?”
“You are here, out and about,” Anthony said. “And, forgive me for not playing along with your delusions, but I do not think you cried much at all for Lord Barlow’s passing.”
“How dare you assume such a thing,” (Y/N) faux gasped. She had intended on pressing a hand to her chest. Intended, anyway. Somehow she forgot all about the champagne currently residing it her grasp. “Damn… this was a new dress too.”
“Good God,” he laughed. “First you are spilling all over yourself like a child and now you are cursing—tell me, do all married ladies act like you?”
“I am a widow,” (Y/N) had found a cloth and begun dabbing up the spill. It had only dribbled at most, but still, it was a new dress. “I rather think I can act the way I please.”
“Like a drunkard?”
“Like a free woman,” she said, fighting every childish urge to stick her tongue out at the viscount. “I am only here to show my face, prove I am still alive and I shall go about my merry way.”
“Lady Danbury is a widow,” Anthony noted. “Yet she still mingles with society.”
“I am not Lady Danbury.”
“You are not.”
“Do you not have young misses to go and woo?” (Y/N)’s eyes hardened. “Take your pick from the litter, Lord Bridgerton, any of them would be pleased to spend such valuable time with you.”
“Are you insinuating you are not?”
“I rather thought it was a statement, yes,” (Y/N) said.
Anthony’s eyes went only a fraction wider, nostrils flaring. “Well, if that is what you wish—”
“It is not a mean of wishing,” she laughed, “but really a necessity.”
“Good evening, Lady Barlow,” Anthony sneered, smoke practically coming out of his ears. If (Y/N) had half a mind she’d call for the authorities to put that fire out, instead, she simply finished her drink and smiled wistfully at the dancing ballroom, feeling fulfilled. 
Dearest Gentle Reader,
The season is in full swing thanks to the mark of Lady Agatha Danbury’s ball, a notable and traditional first event of the London scene. Eligible young ladies now on the Marriage Mart were enjoying their first taste at what fine society has to offer, however taxing or daunting it may be. 
Our resident Capital ‘R’ Rake, Viscount Anthony Bridgerton is finally deciding on a wife, surely making him the finest catch of the season. Matchmaking mamas and their young ladies alike were seen flocking to him like petulant children asking their parents for pin money, thanks to his own mother, Lady Bridgerton’s declaration of such an idea last night. The viscount seemingly had enough of the attention, taking like a wallflower and hiding away in the back of the ballroom near the end of the evening. 
His company? None other than Lady Barlow, evidently out of mourning as of last night. While the this Author is under good authority that the match between Lady Barlow and the late Lord Barlow was not a love match, given their fourty or fifty year age difference, it has taken the new dowager viscountess longer than most anticipated for her to get back into the season. A woman as young as Lady Barlow would be eager to find another husband to support her, but something tells me that she is quite enjoying her time as a widow and will not easily give that up. 
While this Author has very little idea of the actual nature of the relationship between Lord Bridgerton and Lady Barlow, it is only to be assumed that it is simply not a favorable one. The two were seen making a scene by the refreshment table, a scene that went unnoticed by many prying eyes of the ton, leaving Lord Bridgerton storming away and Lady Barlow with the winning hand. 
Good show, Lady Barlow. 
Lady Whistledown Society Papers
“Brother! You are in Whistledown!” Eloise sang to no one in particular. 
“I have no care that I am in that gossip rag,” Anthony ground out, rustling his newspaper. “I can only imagine it is just another advertisement of my search for a wife this season.”
“Er, yes, however—”
“However?” Anthony’s attention immediately shot up to his sister, newspaper be damned. 
“Who is Lady Barlow?” Eloise asked. 
“No one of importance,” Anthony could feel his temperature rising. 
“Lady Barlow?” Benedict laughed. “Is that who you were talking to last night dear Brother? Is she not still in mourning?”
“No.”
“No it is not who you were talking to, or no she is not still in mourning?” Benedict gave his brother an amusing glance.
“Oh, according to Whistledown—”
“Sister—”
“Eloise, you may not recall Lady Barlow, given you only just came out this season,” Benedict began, deciding that this conversation was very much worth his time this morning. “But she used to go by Miss (Y/L/N) before her marriage to the late viscount.”
“(Y/L/N)…” Eloise looked to the ceiling, finding nothing in particular. “Oh! Is she not the woman who—”
“I am taking my leave,” Anthony said abruptly, newspaper all but forgotten. 
“Escaping, Brother?” Benedict asked. 
“I have calls to make,” Anthony sneered, ignoring the pleased face his brother was making. “Excuse me.”
“It seems Lady Barlow is a touchy subject,” Eloise noted as her eldest brother left the drawing room. Benedict snorted. “What?”
“You do not even know the half of it, dear Sister.”
Anthony Bridgerton, did not in fact, have any calls to make. He had no impressionable interactions last night to warrant such a visit to anyone—the Queen was still in need of naming her diamond, after all—but he had no desire to stay and be berated by his family this morning. He truly had no plan, no thought in his head on where he was going, he just simply was. 
Apparently he was going to the park.
It was still early in the day, few people graced the park at such an hour. The few who did, however, were too busy reading the latest Whistledown to even notice him. Anthony saw a handful of post boys running opposite of his direction on his way here, it was only natural they scoped out this location. He knew it was going to be a problem the minute they finished reading—if Lady Whistledown truly wrote about him, which he had no reason to believe his sister was lying about, all eyes would be on him.
“Might as well enjoy the peace and quiet for now,” Anthony exhaled. He took a quick glance at his watch—half past eight. Hardly could he recall a time he took a turn about the park on his own, usually he was in the company of his family or holed away in his study worrying about expenses and the like, never did he take a moment to actually enjoy the grand weather such as the kind today. Determined to enjoy it, he sat down on a favorable bench and watched the birds swim across the pond.
“Unbelievable.”
He turned his head, only to find Lady Barlow dressed in a rather pleasantly pink dress and matching hat, a look of distaste on her face.
“I didn’t take you as the park-going type, Lord Bridgerton,” she nodded, folding her hands. She had been carrying a small red book in one of them. “Especially at such an early hour, too.”
“Lady Barlow,” he nearly sneered. “Can a man not enjoy the park?”
“Oh surely a man can,” (Y/N) agreed. “But you? You are no man.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“It seems to me that you’re sitting in my spot,” she ignored his quip, readjusting her stance in annoyance. “This is where I come to read.”
“Can you not read elsewhere?” Anthony asked. “There is an entire park at your disposal.”
“No,” she hummed. “Afraid not.”
“No?” He laughed. “Surely out of the entire park you can find a suitable spot to read your—let me guess—romantically inclined fodder?”
“Poetry,” she corrected, “and no, I cannot simply read elsewhere. The shade is just right under this tree and I rather like overlooking the pond between my chapters.”
“Shame I got here first, then,” Anthony clicked.
“You…!” (Y/N) scoffed, fighting every urge in her body to stomp her foot. “You are an impossible man, surely you know that?”
“I thought you said I was no man?” Anthony’s brow quirked. “Or perhaps I misheard?”
She scowled. “You are not amusing.”
“On the contrary,” Anthony leaned back on the bench, stretching his arms and taking his claim. “I find myself very amusing.”
A duck quacked from the pond, either laughing at the viscount or agreeing with him—it was hard to tell. 
“You leave me no choice,” (Y/N) said sternly, taking a seat on the other end of the bench—feeling worlds apart from the man on the far side. In actuality, it couldn’t have been more than two feet, three at most.
“Truly?” Anthony laughed humorlessly. “You cannot be serious.”
“Hush,” (Y/N) said, opening her book in earnest. “I am trying to read.”
While there had been no guns drawn, this was a duel, in every sense of the word. Both parties sitting still as statues, Anthony’s gaze trained on the pond, (Y/N)’s on her book. Occasionally, she’d flip her page to the next, huffing every time Anthony still did not get up and move on. 
Stubborn. Both of them.
“Will you be quiet?” Anthony said, growing exasperated. “I cannot think when you are breathing so loud—” 
“You wish for me not to breathe?” She shut her book. “I never anticipated you’d wish me dead—”
“Please,” Anthony said. “You know that is not what I mean at all.”
“I never know with you. You, Anthony Bridgerton, are an enigma and I hope I never have the pleasure of truly understanding you,” (Y/N) said, fingers whiting from her grip on her book.
“So you admit it would be pleasurable?”
She wanted to wipe that grin off of his face, how, she was unsure. Idly, she thought about how a good smack to his cheek would feel. Painful in the moment but oh-so wonderful after, cathartic, probably. “I am not getting up.”
“Neither am I.”
“I am willing to die on this bench,” (Y/N) spat.
“Funnily enough,” Anthony’s voice dropped, “so am I.”
“How are you to find your viscountess on this bench?” She asked, angling her body towards the torturous man. “Surely you do not expect her to just walk past?”
“I am sure I can manage,” Anthony said calmly. “Many young ladies will walk this way when they see me sitting here."
“Even with another woman sitting beside you?”
“I rather think they’ll find you easy to ignore, I know I do.”
“Ha! You are truly something else, Lord Bridgerton,” (Y/N) sat straighter. “Insulting a polite woman in public?”
“You are the furthest thing from polite,” Anthony leaned in. “Rude, ostentatious, quite full of herself—”
“Might I offer you a mirror?” The grip on her book tightened, cover bending from the force. “Or are you afraid you’ll see horns?”
“Oh, do they match yours?” He nearly sang. 
“Funny,” she clicked, finally setting her book down, lacing her fingers together in her lap. “You should run a comedy act at the circus, seeing as you are a right clown.”
Anthony stood up, whether by the force of his breath or sheer spite he will never know. “You are the most ridiculous woman I have ever met.”
(Y/N) met his height, now standing as well. “And you are the most irritating man I’ve ever had the displeasure of knowing.”
“I am going to walk this way,” Anthony said, forcefully pointing to his right, eyes not leaving hers. She did have the most remarkable eyes.
“And I will walk this way,” she pointed to her left, less force in her action but seething all the same. “Have the day you deserve, Lord Bridgerton.”
“Why you little…!”
She had already turned and stomped away, a fuming smudge of pink against the greenery of the park, growing further away with every step.
“What a wretched woman,” he mumbled, looking down at his watch again—nine on-the-dot. In the corner of his eye, something bright red caught his attention. Her book. She had left it behind.
Perhaps he would burn it.
Perhaps he would just put it in his pocket and carry about his day.
In the pocket it went. For now.
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mrsriddles-blog · 2 days
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Mania | T.N
Pairing: Theodore Nott X Slytherin Fem Reader
WC: 5.5k+
Warnings/Notes: Mild language, slow-burn, drugs...
Summary: In which you are Theodore Nott's mania...
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“Mattheo Riddle…Tom Riddle and Y/n Riddle…hm, I believe this is the first time I’ve had all three Riddle’s in my class this year at once. It’s good of you to finally show up for your lessons, triplets.” Professor Umbridge says.
“We are more than happy to grace you with our presence.” Mattheo says cheekily.
“I don’t believe I asked for your input.” She says, looking over him once.
“I don’t believe we asked for yours.” Mattheo says.
“Matt.” Tom warns quietly.
“That’s it, detention! All three of you.” She snaps. 
“I didn’t say anything! I was trying to shut him up!” Tom snaps annoyed.
“Mr. Riddle, would you like to make that two days of detention?” She asks.
Tom clenches his jaw, glowering at her as he chooses silence. His gaze slips over to Mattheo who smiles lazily at him. You were already working on your assignment from her. You pause, feeling a presence near you as a shadow casts over your parchment. 
“I’m surprised you’ve got nothing to say Ms. Riddle.” She says. 
You slowly look up, looking at her blankly. She smiles as if she were delighted that you had no reaction, nor no words. She reaches out, grabs your wrist and looks at the scars on your hand from her punishment. 
“If only you Riddle’s could learn to behave.” She tsks.
“She hasn’t even said anything!” Draco defends.
“Malfoy, would you also like to join the Riddle’s in detention?” She asks and he stays silent.
Everyone shifted uncomfortably as the air shifted. You pull your wrist free from her, immediately wringing your hands together as Mattheo puts a hand on your shoulder.
“You need to calm down. Everyone is feeling your magic.” He mutters. 
That didn’t help your case. In fact, it made you feel more anxious, so you stood and packed up your stuff before leaving the classroom quickly. You knew you were going to be in loads of trouble because of your father, but it didn’t quite matter to you. 
“Skipping Umbridge’s class, too?” Theodore asks, standing at the top of the Astronomy Tower, smoking.   
“My magic started to get the best of me. It made the room get that uncomfortable feel and I couldn’t control it, so I left. And I got detention for Mattheo’s smart mouth.” You mumble, standing next to him.
“Sounds like Mattheo, but Umbridge also holds a grudge against you and your brothers simply for who your father is.” He says. 
“I know, but it’s exhausting. We share one last name, and suddenly I’m hated and feared. I may share the same views, but I don’t agree with the way things have been handled.” You sigh.
You relax as he throws his arm over your shoulder. You allow yourself to lean into his warmth more, the chilly air beginning to affect you. 
You always found yourself comfortable in Theodore’s presence. Yes, he was the dark, gloomy, brooding bad boy everyone warns you away from, but you found solace in his presence. Unbeknownst to you, you were the sunshine in Theodore’s life. Anytime you walked in a room, those gloomy looming clouds parted and allowed him to bask in your light. 
Theodore was quiet, understanding, methodical, logical, and calm. His presence soothed you more than you’d like to admit. You were quiet, but one wrong word being said could set your fiery tongue ablaze. No one could ever reign you back, no one, but Theodore Nott. The moment he’d whisper in your ear or rest a hand on the small of your back always sent you quiet. It was like a wave of tranquility washing over you. 
“Y/n! What were you thinking? Now you're going to be kept longer.” Mattheo hissed as he stormed into the room with your friends and Tom not far behind.
“I needed to leave. My magic was making you all uncomfortable and it didn’t help with you telling me to calm down. I knew I needed to calm down, I don’t need you adding to that stress.” You say, pulling free from Theodore’s comfortable hold as you step towards your seething brother.
“We don’t have the time for this nonsense! Father has given us our respected duties.” He snaps, pointing a finger at you.
“Nonsense? Are you trying to twist the blame on me once more? We are in this mess because you’ve got no self-control! And father can take those duties and shove them up his ass!” You exclaim, the room buzzing with your magic.
Mattheo feels a shock in the air between the two of you, causing him to take several steps back. You were the only one to develop magic like this which happened to be otherworldly. It was known to be chaos magic, something that didn’t have much research behind it. 
“You can’t say things like that! He’ll find out!” He snaps.
“Let him. I’m tired of us hiding behind him like cowards!” You snap.
Your eyes flickered to a glowing green, something they hadn’t ever done before as you began to levitate slightly—another thing you hadn’t ever done.
Your father loved and hated your magic. He loved that it was his child who possessed such rare and unique abilities. But, he hated it because it meant you were stronger than him. So, anytime your magic began to go haywire because of your emotions, he’d be quick to lock you away so you could reign it in. You’ve never gotten a chance to experiment with your powers to see what you were capable of. 
“Y/n/n, you need to calm down.” Mattheo warns, putting his hands up in surrender.
Your heart aches seeing the fear in his eyes. You see his hand inching to his wand and your lip trembles, tilting your head slightly as your eyes well with tears. You glance around the room to see your friends inching behind your brothers, fear on their faces. Tom steps up next to Mattheo, nudging him behind him as he shakily points his wand at you. 
“Expelliarmus!” Theodore shouts, standing in front of you. 
He catches Tom’s wand, glaring at the group. 
“She is your bloody sister! Our friends! She wouldn’t hurt you even if she wanted to! Can’t you see you both are hurting her! In fact, all of you are.” He snaps. 
Your feet touch the ground as your eyes flicker back to normal. Theodore turns to you. He steps forward, but you step back as you slowly shake your head. 
“P-Please don’t…I d-don’t want to hurt you.” You whisper.
“You won’t hurt me, love. Come here.” He murmurs.
You don’t move as he slowly steps towards you like you were a timid doe. His arms wrap around you, his hand cradling your head as he inhales deeply as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. Your arms slowly wind around his waist, your hands shaking. 
“I-I didn’t mean to.” You whisper.
“Darling, you didn’t do nothin’ wrong. You’ve never gotten the chance to know your magic and we know that. It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault.” He murmurs. 
You were quiet, your shaky hands fisting the back of his shirt. He kisses your clothed shoulder, ignorant to your brothers’ anger towards him touching you. But, they knew that you were upset with them now. It was Theodore out of your friends and brothers who defended you. 
You slowly pull away, stepping back. 
“I wanna leave, Teddy.” You whisper.
“Come on, love.” He murmurs, gently grabbing your hand as he shields you from your brothers and friends as he guides you elsewhere.
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“Where is she, Nott? She is our bloody sister.” Tom seethes.
“You guys really don’t see what you guys did to her, do you?” He asks, laughing sarcastically as your friend group quiets, 
“What?” Mattheo asks, rolling his eyes.
“Yes, she is a Riddle. But, she is by far the most empathetic, caring, and loving one of you all. She hides it well, yes, and when you all acted as if she were some…monster, you hurt her. You broke one of the most compassionate, loving, and caring hearts you could break. She loves each and every one of you deeply. You all are her family, yet you all had to be fools. She doesn’t know what she is capable of. She feels as if it’s a curse. I think it makes her unique and that she could do some amazing things if she were allowed to test her powers out. You all owe her an apology. Even then, I don’t think it’ll be enough. She is so scared of hurting somebody. Dumbledore is now aware of her magic as she has locked herself away in her room and won’t come out. He’s been trying to help her understand it while getting her work for her classes.” Theodore explains, his cheeks flushed red with anger.
It was silent amongst the friends and her brothers. He stood there a moment before leaving to let them let that settle. Maybe they’ll feel guilty, or maybe they’ll feel nothing. But, it deserved to be said. 
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“Y/n/n?” Theodore asks, surprised.
“I decided hiding away wasn’t doing me any good. It just allowed me more time to overthink. I’m going to try going to all my classes today.” You say softly.
You were sitting on the windows ledge, kicking your feet back and forth. It did make Theodore’s heart rate pick up, because one wrong move, you’d be plummeting to the ground. 
“I’ll be fine, Teddy.” You say softly.
“Huh?” He asks.
“I learned I can read minds and memories with my magic.” You say.
He smiles, happy to see you growing more comfortable with your abilities now that it’s no secret with the Headmaster who was more than happy to help you learn what abilities you possessed and what you could do. 
You climb off the ledge, walking to Theodore before the two of you made it your guys’ first class. You take a seat, ignoring Umbridge’s prying eyes. 
“Nice of you to join us, Ms. Riddle. I honestly hoped you had left Hogwarts.” She said. 
You chose silence, focusing on the board. You had always lived in silence before, so why change that now? It wouldn’t get you anywhere. Simply glancing into her mind allowed you to see her next move and you were left unfazed as her hands slammed on your desk as she was in front of you. 
“Answer me, Ms. Riddle. Haven’t you heard it’s impolite to ignore your professors?” She asks.
“Sorry, Professor Umbridge, I’m unsure of what I am answering.” You say.
“Where have you been?” She asks.
“Ill.” You reply shortly.
“You would’ve been fine within a few days. It’s been six weeks.” She snaps.
“If you’d like, you can owl Headmaster Dumbledore. He was a great help as he helped me recover.” You answer.
The doors open and in walk your brothers, but your gaze never leaves Umbridge’s. She scoffs, looking offended and you question what you had done.
“That’s it. Write lines. Write, “I will not give attitude.”” She snaps, throwing the quill a pad of paper on your desk. 
You stare at it, not wanting to write lines. You don’t want the nasty scars it leaves behind. You faintly heard her scolding you and demanding you write lines. 
“What exactly is she writing lines for, Professor, if you don’t mind me asking?” Mattheo asks, trying his hardest to sound polite. 
“Literally nothing.” Theodore mutters from behind you.
“What was that, Mr. Nott?” Umbridge asks. 
“Professor, may I go to the matron? I feel unwell.” You murmur.
“Write your lines first.” She snaps.
You reach a hand out for the quill, trying to suppress the shakiness as you grab it. You take a breath in before letting it out as you begin to write, allowing your magic to inflict it upon her instead of you. 
She gasps, lifting her hand to see the words your writing appear on her hand. She storms over to you, snatching the quill. You roll your eyes up to hers, feigning confusion. 
“What did you do? You insolent brat!” She shouts, shaking her hand to wave out the pain which did nothing.
“Nothing, ma’am. What happened?” You ask. 
The class gets up, you not realizing how much time had passed as they left. Your friends and brothers stayed seated. 
“Leave! Besides you Ms. Riddle.” She seethes. 
“Nope.” Mattheo says, popping the p.
“Crucio!” She shouts. 
You gasp as Tom pushes Mattheo out of the way, taking the hit. He falls to the ground, his jaw clenched. You fall to your knees beside him, your eyes watery. 
“T-Tom? Hold on.” You whisper.
You cry out, fall to your side as her next spell hit you. Sectumsempra. 
“What the hell are you doing!?” Draco shouts.
Your eyes turn green as a wave of green leaves you. You close your eyes, squeezing them shut as you fight for control. 
“Guys! It’s going to be okay. Pansy and Enz ran to get Professor Snape. Blaise and Draco ran for Headmaster Dumbledore. Just…just hold on, please.” Mattheo pleads, take one of your hands, and one of Tom’s.
His eyes were watering, seeing his older brother by minutes and baby sister by minutes in so much pain.
“Tom, you idiot. Why’d you do that? And Y/n/n…I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for hurting you. I never meant to do that. I love you so much and I couldn’t have asked for anyone else as a sister. I love you so much.” He says. 
You feel a wave of tiredness wash over you as you continue to lose more blood. Your eyes flutter open, only to close again as you pass out. Tom was trying to sit up, only to be pushed down by Mattheo.
“Stay still.” He scolds.
“Y/n/n…check.” He grits out.
Mattheo turns to you, realizing your hand had gone limp in his. He shakes you urgently as fears of you dying filled his head. You let a little whimper of pain out which allowed him to feel calmer and to stop shaking you. 
“Alright, move away so that we can help them.” Dumbledore says, hurrying in. 
“I c-can’t leave them. They need me.” Mattheo says.
“We got him.” Theodore says quietly.
“Go.” Tom grits out. 
“No! I’m not leaving you both!” He snaps.
Theodore, Blaise, and Enzo somehow managed to drag him out, Pansy and Draco following after in case they needed back-up in getting Mattheo back to the Common Room. 
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“You both are weak.” Voldemort says. 
After your “mother”, Bellatrix, received a letter of what happened, a meeting was summoned. Your friends stared down at the table, along with their parents as they felt they were intruding. Tom and you were to stand, looking at him.
“Father, it was my fault.” You say, ignoring Tom’s sharp glare at you.
“Thomas!” Your father warns, in which Tom focuses his eyes back on his father with a clenched jaw.
“Father, please. It was me. She was angry with me and the boys simply stepped in to protect me. It was my fault. Please do not punish Tom or Mattheo. This is all my fault. I deserve to be punished.” You say. 
“Mattheo is the only one whose name didn’t pop up in the letter. He is excused from this. But, Tom and you are not.” He says. 
He points his wand, speaking, “Crucio!”. Your hands flew out, a green ward appearing around Tom as the spell bounced off of it. You used your other hand to hit the spell that now headed towards your father. 
“You dare defy me?” He asks lowly, standing slowly as his eyes seem to turn redder. 
“I said he had no part in this, but you choose to ignore what I had to say!” You snap, your own eyes turning green in anger. 
He falters, his eyes changing to ones of surprise before he raises his wand.
“I would feel terrible about having to kill my own child, but it’s evident you’ve been experimenting with your powers. If you continue to stand up to me and be a threat to me, I’ll have no other option than to kill you.” He speaks. 
“Don’t lie, father. You’d feel absolutely nothing. But, what if I did this? I reverse all your work?” You ask. 
“Don’t you dare!” He shouts. 
You clench your jaw as you flay your arms out as green lights up the room. You watch your father drop his wand as you levitate him. You continue to search his mind for all the objects that were horcruxes before your magic reached out to retrieve it and piece his soul back together. He yells and curses at you, but you aren’t affected. 
The green light disperses as you lower your father who had a sharp jawline, blue eyes that matched Tom and yours. He was tall and lanky, but you could tell it only meant he was toned. His brown hair was carefully styled. He looks at his hands before turning to a mirror and staring at himself. He spins back towards you, storming towards you.
“What the hell did you do to me!” He shouts. 
“You are no longer immortal. You are mortal. I could…however…make you immortal in a different way. But, I’m questioning if you even deserve that respect, father. You’ve treated your children like shit since they could walk. You’ve tortured us. You don’t care, nor love us. You are as much of a monster and a coward as some of the muggle’s I hear about with their children.” You seethe, walking towards him as he slowly backs up. 
“I do love you three! And I care about you! You wouldn’t know a damn thing because you're so naive!” He shouts.
You decide to peek into his mind. You become humbled as some twisted part of him has loved and cared for you…but this new him allows him to express it normally and you can tell he is confused with the feelings. He’s scared. 
“I’m not naive…you’ve done well hiding your true feelings towards us our entire life. Horcrux and disembodied you allowed you to experience love and care, yet those were warped. You had a very screwed up way of showing it. But, this way will allow us to see how you truly feel towards us.” You say, motioning to him. 
“I want to be immortal, Y/n. I have plans I must go through with.” He says. 
You turn, taking a seat and resting your chin on your hand as you look back at him.
“I’d be more than happy to make you immortal again. A spell I made and might I add that it works perfectly, no risks. But, I have one little thing I don’t want to happen. You’ve cowered behind your followers for far too long, father. A true leader leads the war. Not to mention, you have children involved. You’re willing to go to war with innocent children who may lose their lives. They’ve only ever heard what their parents said and they are far too young to even begin to think of what they truly believe. This against you adults. It doesn’t involve us. Nor, the children attending Hogwarts.” You say. 
“You kids are far more talented and excelled.” He says.
“Father…I don’t see the point of this war. You’re a half-blood…which makes Tom, Mattheo and I half-bloods as well. You’re deeming it your right to lead a war for a pure-blood world, but what about us? How does it make it fair?” You ask. 
“Because we aren’t like the other half-bloods and mud-bloods. We are far more powerful than them…smarter than them, stronger than them. Look at you for example. You possess abilities that no one else can. You possess magic that is otherworldly. Tom is much like me who can use wandless magic and see into the minds of even our most challenging opponents. Mattheo, he is much like your guy’s mother—the magical way—as she possessed ancient magic and as does Mattheo. Mattheo and Tom remind me of myself when I was younger just from the way they act. But, you…you remind me so much of your mother.” He says, managing a small smile at me. 
You were unsure what to say, thrown off by what a mood change he just had. You also found yourself wanting to ask him questions of your mother whom you’ve never gotten the chance to meet as she died in childbirth. 
“Meeting will be prolonged for now. You may go to the living room for now. I want a moment with my children.” Your father says. 
People soon filed out of the room, Enzo being the one to close the doors with hesitancy. You shoot a smile his way and nod, seeing that he looked much more relieved to close the doors. Mattheo was still sitting where he had been, but Tom took a seat across from you. 
“What was she like…our mom?” You ask.
“Your mother was…beautiful…you much look like her aside from the eyes. Mattheo got her eyes. Tom, you have her nose and lips. But, most importantly…you all share her big heart and her logical mind. She too didn’t see my views on why I wanted to go to war. She despised it unless I could truly find the reason behind it. There never was a reason besides I wanted a pureblood world. But, her and I…I never knew what love was until your mother. I believed I was incapable of loving or feeling in general until your mother walked up to me with one of her perfect, soft smiles. She was bold, fearless, and so smart. That was the side everyone got to see. But, as she and I grew closer…I got to see how big her heart was for her friends and family, just like yours Y/n/n…and to see how much she cared.” He says, his eyes faraway as he thought of your mother. 
“How were you both after graduating?” You ask.
“We were perfect. We spent the next two or three decades madly in love when I had decided to move forth with my plans. By then, my old friend Abraxas had a little boy, Lucius. I watched my friends have children, but my friends died. It was their children I began to seek forth on the war. As they began to choose to have children, I realized how quiet your mother had gotten. She always watched. I asked about it one day naturally only to learn that she too wanted children. So, we began to try, which didn’t take long till she found out she was pregnant with you three. I would do anything to go back to the day to see that smile.” He says, smiling sadly. 
“If you don’t mind…I could reflect on your memory so we could all see.” You say and he nods. 
Naturally, he had been thinking about the day, so when you tapped his temple, it didn’t take long to find it. Soon, the four of you were quietly staring at your mother. It was a little snippet, her smile that was indeed much like yours, her brown eyes lighted with so much joy and love as she held a pregnancy stick up. 
“I was unaware that your mother had a bleeding disorder. The pregnancy went well and when her water broke, we were ecstatic. I’ll admit I was rather nervous, but she couldn’t wait to get out the door and to the hospital to have you. She was so excited. They did the c-section, she got to hold the three of you. She cried as she said how beautiful you three were. She said you were going to be triple the trouble. She whispered how much she loved you and that one day she’d see you again. I was confused, but she managed to kiss each of your heads before the nurses were taking you away with solemn looks. She knew she was going to die. The entire pregnancy, she knew. She knew she’d die or live. She agreed to one horcrux—me, to live immortally. The other half of her joined me that night when she didn’t make it out of the room.” He says, swallowing hard.
“That’s who I felt when I pieced your soul back together.” You whisper.
“You felt her? I feel her sometimes…used to I could talk to her and she’d speak back. She’s grown silent though and I feared that she was gone.” He admits. 
“She’s there, her soul is growing weaker though. She wasn’t meant to live through you, but her own vessel…I…” You say, trailing off. 
“What?” He asks.
“She has a spell to resurrect the dead as well. She is the child who has dabbled in muggle magic that never went anywhere, but she takes it somewhere. She made the three of us immortal with her immortal spell, feelings intact. She did give us each a way to die if we ever got tired of being immortal. If we decided we wanted to move forth and meet in another life.” Tom explains.
“Your mother use to make spells too…she spent the years we were in Hogwarts and up until you three were born trying to create a spell on immortality. She hated that I had gone through with horcruxes and was sure she’d be able to reverse it and give us a safer option for immortality…yet here you are and you did it sooner than your mother had been able to. You remind me so much of your mother.” He says, looking at you. 
It was silent as you all looked at the memory of your mother who was so joyous finding out she was pregnant. You find yourself thinking she is the most beautiful woman you have ever seen.
“I have a question.” Your father says.
“What's up?” Mattheo asks, trying to find a way to be less awkward around your guys’ father. 
“Why does Theodore look at Y/n all the time?” He asks.
You look up confused, your brothers sharing an uncomfortable look as they looked almost defeated. Tom sighs and motions Mattheo on. Mattheo sighs.
“I didn’t tell you, Y/n/n, you just found out, okay? Theodore…he has had a crush or in your words, fancied Y/n/n since first year. He’s always been a bit scared to tell her as he would rather have her as a friend than not have her at all.” Mattheo explains.
You tilt your head in curiosity as you wonder why that never stood out to you. You had always fancied him, but you never assumed he’d feel anything back. 
“I don’t quite know how to explain what it is I’m feeling…like…I love Y/n/n…I want to see her happy, but I don’t know how I feel about a boy fancying her.” Your father says.
“It's when you feel protective over someone. I’m sure you felt it often with mom.” Mattheo explains.
“I did…I was always embarrassed to ask her about the different feelings I would experience.” He admits. 
“I’ll need her bones, some ingredients, but most importantly, I’ll be needing to carefully retract her soul from you dad…this part could hurt.” You say, turning to your father.
“That’s okay.” He admits. 
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“Is this it, my lord?” Lucius.
You, as much as you hated it, had a crowd who was rather intrigued by your magic and ability to create spells. You were slightly disturbed with your mothers remains being in the same room as you, but you knew it was necessary. 
“Yes.” He murmurs, walking further into the room and sitting in the chair across from your mothers casket. 
You place the metal bowl between the two as you start to add the ingredients in, you pause turning to your father as you strap him to the chair. He grimaces, realizing he may have misinterpreted how bad this would hurt, but he couldn’t complain. He wanted nothing more than the woman he loved back. 
You raise your hands, having to clench your jaw of your fathers strangled groans and pained grunts as you pull your mothers soul free of him. You lowered it to the bowl, taking a match and lighting the bowl. 
A wave of light fills the room, and you walk to the casket to see your mother there in the flesh and blood. You hear Tom helping your father free of restraints as you hold a hand out for your mother.
“Y/n/n?” She murmurs.
“Y-You recognize me?” You whisper as she fully stands.
“How could I not? You’ve turned out to be such a beautiful young woman…oh Mattheo…Tom, my boys. You three come here.” She whispers. 
The embrace of your mother was something you realized you hadn’t needed so much. Her love, care, and warmth was what filled those missing parts in you—all, but one, but that was Theodore’s spot. 
“You’re so pretty.” You murmur.
“Oh, love. Thank you, but it is you who is the prettiest girl to be seen.” She murmurs. 
She holds you three tight for minutes, before leaving a long kiss on each of your heads before hesitantly letting you go. She looks at your guys’ father with watery eyes. 
“I can’t say I haven’t missed you because I have. But, I still don’t agree with your views and how you’ve treated our children. But, when Y/n/n looked into your mind and pointed out that you had always loved and cared for them, it was just warped…I understood. But, I do believe the horcruxes played an effect. If the kids are okay with it, I’d love for all of us to start a clean slate.” She says. 
Your father nods, his own eyes watery. You turn to look at your brothers to see them looking at you as your parents turn to you three. Mattheo does a little nod, and you turn to Tom. You could see his hesitance, but once he sees your encouraging smile, he does a little nod himself. You turn to your parents, nodding at them. They pull the three of you in a hug.
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“What are you doing all alone out here, Teddy?” You ask, wearing a silvery dress that glitters. 
Your makeup and jewelry was dark and green per-usual. He was in a tux, his tie terribly tied as he didn’t know how to. He had a cigarette in his mouth as he takes you in. 
“Everyone is dancing and doing sappy stuff. Your brothers even had dates.” He says quietly. 
You step forward, lifting your hands as you fix his tie. You look into his soft, yet intense eyes and smile.
“Teddy, would you like to dance with me?” You ask.
“R-Really?” He asks surprised.
“I only ask guys I like to dance, Teddy, so…would you?” You ask, holding your hand out to him.
“You like me?” He asks, taking your hand.
“More than you know, Teddy.” You say, smiling softly at him before you were gently dragging him to the dance floor.
A slow song comes on as you both start to sway. You requested this and then a waltz song next before letting the music officiant go back to their list. You saw your father and mother happily dancing as they whispered lovingly to each other. Mattheo was dancing with Astoria as Tom danced with a girl who was a year below you all. You periodically saw your friends amongst the dancing couples as they too danced. 
“Love?” Theodore murmurs.
“Hm?” You hum, your eyes clashing with his.
“You like me in a more than friend way…right?” He asks, his eyes flickering over your shoulder out of nerves.
“That was what I meant, silly. Do you like me in a more than friend way?” You ask.
“Yes! I have for a long time…since first year, but I was just…I was so scared I’d lose you because you didn’t feel that way. I was everywhere…protecting you, and keeping guys away. You infiltrated my mind every waking moment of mine…you are my mania.” He says.
“Oh Teddy, I’ve liked you since first year too. I wish I would’ve said something sooner, but all is okay. We’ve told each other now.” You say, smiling softly.
“Since you were so bold earlier, let me return that…would you be my girlfriend?” He asks.
“Nothing would make me happier, Teddy.” You murmur, leaning up as he leans down to kiss you softly.
“Hey!” Tom, Mattheo and your father shout. 
You both pull apart with soft laughter as you both look over to see them giving you both stern looks, your brothers’ dates trying to get them to leave you alone as your mother reigns your father in. You turn back to Theodore, a soft smile on your face.
“I love you, Teddy.” You murmur.
“I love you too, Y/n/n.” He whispers as the music shifts to waltz music and he groans as you grin mischievously.
It was then that he knew this was your doing, but he smiled goofily as he wouldn’t have this any other way.
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Undercover
Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2024, Day 3 Trope : Fake Dating Barely proof read this, so sorry for any mistakes lol, enjoy!
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Sherlock, I said no.”
“Molly, you agreed to this.”
She stared at the man sitting across from her, annoyance radiating through her body as she stared at him. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “I am not dancing with you.”
Clearing his throat, he stood up and straightened his jacket before walking around the table to extend his hand out to her. “Yes, my dear, you are.” He stared down at her, a mask of control. “Molly,” he dropped to a whisper, “this is the best chance for us to be close to the masterminds…it’s for the case.”
She huffed out a sigh through her nose and dramatically slapped her hand into his, rising to her feet.
“Fine. But only for the case.” She fixed a soft smile on her lips and allowed herself to be led to the hotel dance floor.
“Remember, you’re in love with me,” he whispered, letting his lips graze her ear. “We need people to believe that.”
She shook her head as she gave a disbelieving laugh, her fake smile selling the “love” façade. “You’re ridiculous.”  
“How so?” He kept his voice low and face close to hers, but his eyes remained locked on their targets.
“I told you I was done with this fake relationship stuff for cases…yet here we are.” She knew her anger towards him was only partially justified – she should have backed out as soon as he said the word fiancé – but being angry at him was easier than admitting to herself why she kept saying yes to him.
“You’ve enjoyed helping me with previous cases," he said as he continued to gently move them around the dance area. “I am not sure why this case is any different.”
She shook her head before resting her temple on his shoulder, looking away from him. “You know why,” she muttered, feeling tired.
Sherlock’s swaying stopped for a moment before he started moving again. “I assure you, I do not.”
She pressed her eyes tightly together and took a deep breath. Centering herself, she lifted her head, this time a genuine smile, although sad, sat on her lips. He looked at her, slightly taken a back by the abrupt change in demeaner. “What did you say the masterminds were looking for? Happy couples?”
“Delirious with infatuation and out of touch with reality, specifically,” he responded.
“Well then, happy we shall be.”
...
“My goodness!” The woman slapped the table as she giggled. “You two are just the most delightful creatures! Do you think we’ve met any other couples as delightful, honey?” she asked as she turned to the man on her right.
“No, you are right my dear. These two are some of the best people we’ve yet to meet here.” The couple shared a look that was not missed by Sherlock or Molly. “I say, we would love to have you two join us tomorrow night for a special gathering we are having.” He slid a card across the table to Sherlock. “9pm.”
“We’ll be there!” Sherlock took the card and slipped it into his jacket pocket.
“Sounds lovely!” Molly nodded in agreement.
“Well, looks like we should be turning in.” The man gestured to the clock on the wall. “Honey?” He held his hand out as he stood and she took it.
“Oh, yes.” She smiled brightly at Sherlock and Molly. “I look forward to seeing you both there tomorrow.”
“Wouldn’t miss it!” Molly said, only letting the smile drop from her face after they were out of sight.
“Come on.” Sherlock stood and ushered Molly back to their master suite.
“I think that went well,” Molly said once they were back in the room as she started to take off her heels.
“What did you mean when you said, you know why?” Sherlock’s question caught her off guard and she struggled to not slip as she worked her heels off.
“Sherlock…” she trailed off, not sure what to say as he stared at her. Finally, she shrugged and sat on the end of the bed. “You know, I just had a long week and this case was kind of bad timing.”
“No.”
She gave him a questioning look.
“Last case…I kissed you while we were undercover.” He took a couple of steps closer to her.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“But I’d done that before.”
“Yes.” She shifted uncomfortably on the bed.
“And those didn’t bother you.” He moved so he was standing directly in front of her and she had to tilt her head up to look at him.
“Sherlock?” She was unsure where his line of questioning was going.
“This kiss was different because…” this time he trailed off and she could tell he was replaying that night in his mind.
They had been colleagues turned friends for a long time, but Sherlock didn’t often open up about his private life and on that case he had. She had then shared back and something had shifted between them. And while she had always enjoyed kissing Sherlock, even just for pretend, this kiss felt different. The next week she told him she could no longer be his undercover dating partner.
Dropping to his knees, he took her hands in his. “It was different because…I was different?”
She nodded silently. He opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off. “It wasn’t that you were actually different – you were still Sherlock. But you were Sherlock who let me in…which you so rarely do.”
His eyes flicked to her lips and he hesitated a moment, before leaning in and kissing her. It was soft and gentle but still made her head rush and when he pulled back, she smiled brightly at him. “I’ve always liked kissing you,” he admitted. “When you told me you couldn’t be my undercover dating partner anymore, I am ashamed to admit the disappointment I felt at the idea of no longer having an excuse to kiss you.”
He captured her lips again and kissed her soundly until both their hands were tangled in each other’s hair. Breaking apart, Sherlock slid into the spot on the bed next to her before kissing her again. And again…and again.
When they finally broke apart, Molly spoke, “Maybe we don’t have to pretend to be together anymore.”
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homeofthepeculiar · 2 days
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Hey Alma, Hope you're doing well! May I please request a fic where Princess Y/N is making matches for the ton, maybe Cressida Cowper or someone else would work too. Thank you for your time and consideration!
helloooo, my dear!! I love this idea so much! So I actually love the actress that plays Cressida she is an icon and I love a good redemption story lmao
Over the Garden Wall Drabble - Opal of the Season Series Masterlist
Word Count: 2.0k
It was Y/N's second season as “ruler of the marriage mart,” as she had been deemed. Her first season had gone well, in her opinion. A record number of matches, as Lady Whistledown reported it. The princess had to check with Penelope to see if that was, in fact, true. It actually had been. It made her happy. It made her ecstatic, actually, to aid in love matches. Considering that she had found her own, it only felt right to see others find theirs. 
It was well into the season when she had been called on by an unlikely guest. Two unlikely guests, in fact. Y/N hadn’t been informed of who they were when she was led into the blue drawing room of Buckingham House, only that they were in need of assistance and that it had to do with the marriage mart. Y/N, being who she was, was happy to help. 
Well, she had been. Until she walked in and saw who exactly it was. 
Lady Cowper and Miss Cressida Cowper. The princess had to hide her grimace. They both bowed to her. She extended her hand, allowing them to sit. There was no tea. Nothing for Y/N to do with her hands as they sat in silence.
“What can I assist you with?” Y/N finally asked after having sat in silence for long enough. She had waited for either of them to speak, but they did not.
“Your Royal Highness,” Lady Cowper started. “We are here to ask for your assistance.”
“In what matter?” Y/N wondered.
“My daughter…” Lady Cowper said. “Is still unmarried.”
“I am aware,” the princess said. “I am assuming you should like to rectify that?”
“Yes, Your Royal Highness,” Cressida said.
“She debuted four seasons ago,” Lady Cowper said. “The same season as your sister-in-law, the Duchess of Hastings. She has had a few…suitors but…”
The princess frowned. She knew that Cressida was not the nicest. She had, after a while, gotten the whole story out of Penelope. There was, of course, that whole thing with Colin and then Jack Featherington and well, Y/N had never thought she would be sympathetic to the woman, but sitting across from her changed that. 
She cleared her throat. “And what sort of man do you seek?”
“Someone of high standing,” Lady Cowper said. “Someone that—”
“Lady Cowper,” Y/N interjected, making the woman startle. “I should like to speak with Miss Cressida alone, if you are amenable.”
Lady Cowper looked at her daughter. They shared a silent conversation. Cressida, eventually, nodded and her mother stood. “Graham will show you to the other drawing room across the hall,” Y/N said. “Graham, please set up some tea for Lady Cowper.”
Graham nodded and led the woman out of the room. Cressida seemed to squirm under Y/N's gaze. Something that, unfortunately, made the woman feel rather powerful. 
“What sort of man do you seek?” Y/N repeated the question.
“Someone of high standing,” Cressida said, repeating her mother’s words.
“Right,” Y/N said with pursed lips. “May I be frank?” Cressida nodded. “You are unmarried after four seasons. You have, if I am correct, met all of the eligible men of the ton. At least, those that are not just out of leading strings. What do you expect me to do that will assist you?”
Cressida cleared her throat. She seemed more subdued than Y/N had ever seen her. Then again, she was essentially coming to the princess with her tail between her legs. “You have influence.”
“So you do not wish for a love match?” Y/N wondered. Cressida seemed surprised, so the princess continued. “I can snap my fingers and have a wealthy man call on you tomorrow. But he would be doing it because I told him to, not because he wanted to. Is that the life you wish for yourself?”
Cressida thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No, Your Royal Highness.”
“No, I thought not,” Y/N replied. “If it is a love match that you seek, then you must come to terms with yourself.”
“What…What do you mean, Your Royal Highness?”
“I will not mince words, Miss Cowper. You are not nice. You are not kind. I know what it is like to be raised by a headstrong woman. I know what it is like to be raised to think you are better than others. It is up to us to continue that line of thought or rectify it.”
Y/N allowed Cressida a moment to process her words. “I apologize, Your Royal Highness.”
“It is not I that you need apologize to,” Y/N said. “You have not slighted me. But there are those that you have. Penelope Bridgerton, for example. A wonderful woman whom you deemed unfit for the man that she has come to marry. A man whom, I believe, you sought after yourself.” Cressida nodded. “We live in a society where gossip runs rampant. I must admit that I, myself, do find some pleasure in it as well. That does not mean that we need to take part in undermining people that do not deserve it, yes?”
“Yes, Your Royal Highness.”
“Good,” Y/N said with a soft smile. “Miss Cowper, I know that there is good in you. There is good in everyone. You just need to want to find it. Do you want to find it?”
Cressida was silent for a moment, then she nodded. “I do, Your Royal Highness.”
Y/N took a deep breath. “Then we have work to do.”
----------
It started as a three part plan. Part one was apologizing. Penelope came first. She was, in Y/N's opinion, the one that had been on the receiving end of Cressida’s remarks the most over the years. The princess insisted that it happen in person and not through a letter as Cressida wished to do. Penelope had sent Y/N a letter after that told her it had been done. Penelope had forgiven Cressida, though, she was still quite suspicious of her intentions.
Y/N had told her not to worry about that just yet and asked her to kindly refrain from writing anything in Whistledown for the time being. 
More apologies came after. Cressida seemed to get used to it after a while. She seemed to actually enjoy it. She told Y/N that there was a sort of rush when one was forgiven. It was followed by the need to keep doing it. 
The second part was influence. Y/N knew that Cressida and Lady Cowper had been correct. If the princess gave her blessing, all would be fixed. Well, mostly. 
That was where Lady Whistledown came in. Y/N told Penelope where she and Miss Cressida would be in Hyde Park on that particular morning. People seemed surprised to see the two of them together. Cressida seemed to, for the first time, shrink under their gaze. 
There was something about the woman that Y/N enjoyed. Not that she would admit that. Not yet, at least. Once her cattiness fell to the wayside, she was an admirable ally, in fact. And, it was true, she had met almost every man of the ton. 
“There is one,” Cressida said quietly, as they walked through the park. “Lord Lumley.”
“Oh,” Y/N said with wide eyes. “I do know of him, yes.”
“He is…” Cressida said with a sigh. There was not much more she needed to say. 
“And do you know much about him?” Y/N wondered.
“He is an avid reader of poetry. He performed some at the party Lady Danbury threw for Princess Edwina two seasons ago.”
“And you were taken by him,” Y/N assumed.
Cressida nodded. “He did not look at me twice.”
Y/N smiled sadly. “Do you enjoy poetry, Miss Cowper?”
“Oh, yes,” Cressida said. “My favorite is Byron. Lord Lumley recited some at the party. Mama is against me speaking about it. She says that gentlemen do not want an intelligent lady.”
Y/N rolled her eyes. Mostly at the mention of Byron but also because Lady Cowper was simply wrong. “I disagree,” Y/N said. “I’ve found that the one thing my husband loves about me most is my brain. Well…one of the things.”
“Your Royal Highness,” Cressida gasped, scandalized. Y/N chuckled at this.
“We shall have to find a way to give you two an introduction,” Y/N said. “And…Miss Cowper, remember to be yourself. Your mother is not the one marrying, you are.”
Step three was the ball. She had insisted that the Cowpers throw it themselves. Y/N made it known that she and Benedict would be attending. She even enlisted all of the Bridgertons to attend, much to their chagrin. Y/N had all but begged them. They really didn’t understand, but they agreed all the same.
It turned out to be one of the biggest balls the ton had seen in years. 
A success in its own right. 
“Lord Lumley,” Y/N said as she approached the man with Benedict at her side.
“Your Royal Highnesses,” he said with a bow. “I am surprised to see you here.”
“Are you?” Y/N wondered. “Oh, yes, Miss Cowper and I have become quite close these days.” She found amusement in Lumley’s surprised expression. “Time changes people, don’t you agree?”
“Yes, I do,” he said.
Y/N smiled softly. “Yes, Miss Cowper and I seem to have a lot in common. I was surprised myself. An avid reader of poetry, did you know?”
“I…did not,” Lord Lumley said. Y/N knew that he was seeking a wife after having been rather thrown to the side by Edwina. 
“Ah, there she is,” Y/N smiled. “Miss Cowper.” She beckoned her friend over. “Lord Lumley and I were just about to discuss poetry and I wondered if you would like to join in on the conversation. We had a rousing debate about Byron the other day. Thoughts, Lord Lumley?”
Y/N felt Benedict tense beside her. She could tell from her periphery that he was trying to hold himself back. 
“I adore Byron,” Lumley said.
“He is quite fascinating,” Cressida said. “I find that many people think his pessimistic worldview is deterring. I, however, find it…revolutionary.”
Y/N watched as Lumley’s eyes widened for a moment. “I…quite agree.” He cleared his throat. “Miss Cowper, might I…sign your dance card?”
“Oh, of course,” she said, extending a delicate hand. While Lumley wasn’t looking, Cressida gave Y/N a wide-eyed look to which the princess responded with a wink. 
“We shall leave you,” Y/N said. “I find myself a bit parched.” Lord Lumley gave them a half-hearted bow, his eyes never leaving Cressida.
“Good God,” Benedict finally said as they left. “That was…difficult.”
Y/N chuckled under her breath. “You know, Miss Cowper did have some good arguments in favor of Byron.”
“Never say that again,” Benedict responded with a pained groan. 
“Oh, never,” she replied with a shudder. 
There hadn’t exactly been a step four. At least, it hadn’t been planned. But, eventually, there was one.
Step four—the wedding.
It had happened in a whirlwind after that night. After Cressida left behind her cruel persona and adopted the one she had always had in her heart, Lumley fell quickly and intensely in love. It was a feeling they both shared. 
The wedding was held at Buckingham House. The entire ton was in attendance. 
After the wedding, the entire Bridgerton family bowed to Y/N. Not as they normally did, but in reverence.
“I have no idea how you did it,” Anthony said. “Miss Cowper was…”
“Lady Lumley, I believe,” Y/N corrected.
Anthony shook his head with a chuckle. 
“Are you really friends with her?” Penelope wondered.
Y/N shrugged. “I find her quite intriguing.”
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Taglist: @imdoingbetternow @dd122004dd @soulmates8 @aureolinb @poppyalice2001 @thatgirljas13 @sunnygrey99 @frogsandhomicidalducks @dreadity @psychomanias @muxshwriting @erinroney @theregencywriter @wobbly-fluggers @moonwayne @esposadomd @marvelspogue @avengersgirllorianna @bwormie @noirrose21-blog @themadhattersqueen @ziarah @esposadomd @thicficbich1 @luvaerina @smileofthesun27 @mythical-mushrooms13 @siimiasoi @wannapizzamymindposts @everavenclaw @kno-way-home @unfortunatekiwitrash @melsunshine @butterfly-skinnylegend @yunloyal @fanfiction-she-wrote @iamaslytherin0 @marvelouslyme96 @soundslikerains-blog @ilovespideyyy @isagivinny @eyesarefullofstars @beingalive1 @the-great-imagines-of-1812 @rayisthehoe @empressnatsume @hopefulatrocity @daddyissues-muah @boo8008 @pinkpantheris @yourmumstoy @jupitervenusearthmars @strawberrypink-jellybeans @crispysublimecupcake @galactict3a @dumdumsun
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oifaaa · 3 months
Note
Suzaku should of stayed lost in the soup aisle fr
The reason why it took them two months between winning the war and suzaku actually killing lelouch is bc suzaku was lost looking for clothes in the soup store
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baeshijima · 5 months
Note
Sophie. Your tags on that art are gonna make me cry again. Super fitting that it's the Hydro archon quest bc I sure can feel the Hydro in my eyes rn!! 🥲🥲🥲🥲
Also related but unrelated but I wanna talk about how much I appreciate the role they let the Traveler have in the archon quest. I'm really glad they didn't make the Traveler some foreign entity that swooped in from afar to save everyone from impending disaster, and instead made it such that all the Fontaine characters each played their own part in mitigating the effects of the prophecy (from Lyney's magic pockets to Wrio's flying ship), and it just so happened that things led to the Traveler helping to expedite this overall process and eventually proving to play an integral part in the greater scheme of things. Like, it's really satisfying that it's not all about *them*, yknow? In this archon quest, Furina and Neuvi were easily the true protagonists over Traveler, and I really appreciate that.
Wow that's a lot of brainrot... I'm really wordy nowadays, sorry about that >< BUT YEAH I can't stop screaming about this archon quest!! When everyone thought it would be impossible for them to top Sumeru's finale AND THEY DID!!!!
iryth. i will never recover from the quest. it gets worse when i have more realisations abt the impact of focalors and furinas sacrifices (in their own ways) and the actual, in-game world impact it has bc they were literally the first to actually deal a heavy blow to celestia directly by deceiving them for the last five centuries and overturned the prophecy that was sure to happen ;w; they deserve so much and i hope focalors finds peace and that furina can carry a happy life from now on ;w;;
AND NO BC I FEEL THE SAME ???? like,,, we were actually a spectator to this massive, large-scale opera from the very beginning with furina as the main character and focalors as the playwright and neuvi having such an important role from coming to understand and love humans during the five hundred years of being the iudex, all to arrive at the moment where focalors self-sacrifices to return his authority just so he can overturn the prophecy and declare fontainians as not guilty bc of his love for them and !!!! OURGH im so unwell i hate it here hyv stop this insanity i physically and emotionally cannot handle anymore (she says while replaying the focalors-furina-neuvillette cutscene ;w;)
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jazjelspen · 2 months
Text
my angel baby
(alastor w/ angel daughter reader)
[caution!!: EPISODE 8 & 6 SPOILERS. NOT PROOFREAD]
(notes: alastor joins charlie and vaggie in heaven to convince them about the hazbin hotel. angel reader physically resembles a fawn. )
(right now this is considered a oneshot, unless there is a very high demand for a part 2 I'll happily make another one for funzies!)
(PART 2 IS OUT!!!)
(also apologies if alastor's last name isnt actually altruist LMAo I kinda just wrote it assuming so 😭 )
You made it to heaven, lucky you.
Heaven was surely a treat, you lived your days with the upmost happiness, the light of heaven shining on your skin with kisses as if praising you for your goodness and your sacrifices,
all your sacrifices.
You were currently taking the job over for St. Peter at the gates of heaven for just a few minutes to await for any wondering souls to appear, to help guide them while he came back from a lunch break. Normally they wouldn't allow a human soul like yourself with little experience in this kind of task to take charge of such an important job, but you were close to many of the high ranking angels and you have proved your proficiency in tasks that you set your mind to, so you were glad to help those in need.
You stood there reading through the millions of pages looking over all kinds of names, all seemed like names that you wouldn't normally hear back in your time when you died. Some you liked, others didn't exactly pique your interest much, but the advancement of names since the 1930s surely proved how much times have changed and how quickly time seems to pass in heaven.
You wonder if it is in hell too.
'Hell?..' you wondered as you shook your head and sighed, your mind has been on that place lately and you wondered if it was even worth the rent free space in your mind.
You were currently slouched over the book and decided to close it with a glum look on your face, your elbows now resting on the golden podium and your hands cupping your face.
Geez, and you've been thinking a lot about your old man.
What-- no wait-
You shouldn't call him your old man, let alone your dad, not even father, pops-- not even by his damn name.
Even so, as much as you hated it.. you couldn't help but still use his last name sometimes since it's what you were given when you were first taken in.
Your last name?.. why, you're forgetting already?
_____ Altruist is who you a---
"HELLO??"
You snapped out of your thoughts as your head slipped from under your palms, face planting onto the cover of the enormous book. In embarrassment you snapped your head back up and your wings followed suit, spreading open behind you in shock as your eyes searched for the voice that called out to you from below.
You finally darted down to see three oddly shaped figures, your panicked vision soon relaxing to see two girls and a man dressed in red from tip to toe.
How peculiar.
Your eyes only set on the girl at the moment since she was the one waving at you and basically begging for your attention.
"Hello hello! uh.. Down here!" The girl with long locks of pale yellow hair waved, her smile widening when seeing she's caught your attention.
"Ah- yes yes! Hello hello! Welcome to Heaven! May I.. uh-" you scrambled nervously to open the book in the middle of it, "May I have your name please?"
She nodded, also returning a bit of a shy attitude back "Yes of course! My names Charlie Morningstar!"
Just like that you flicked the pages to go to the names that sounded similar to the girl's, mumbling her name under your breath as your finger traced down each name on the list.. to your dismay you couldn't find it.
"You don't seem to be on the list ma'am.. how weird.. does this usually happen with St. Peter?.." you spoke in concern, mumbling the last part to yourself.
The girl then started to explain something about her dad getting her a meeting, your mind a little clouded still trying to find her name until you heard the forbidden name that no one inside the pearly gates ever attempted to say out loud.
"-- maybe try, Lucifer.. Morning...star-"
And just like that you slammed the book closed, no words coming out of your mouth but an exasperated look of shock freezing your face.
"Oh-hoho... that explains so much--" you gave her a small sheepish smile, awkwardly looking off to the side where your eyes couldn't help but drag themselves to the man dressed in red.
"Miss you don't think.. you could've..." your eyes at first looked at the man's waist, his coat lightly shredded at the ends and the stripes of the long suit guided your eyes upwards "-gotten..." up and up and your eyes met his. The red eyes, the ears, the small horns, the horrific aura, and..
Oh dear, you'd recognize that damned smile anywhere.
"--lost..?" the end of your sentence dragged on, taking a long while to finish since all you could think about is how this man is at the front door step of the place he shouldn't even be considered in being let to enter.
Alastor, your father from the living realm. Not connected by blood but by life and connection.
The man where you got your last name from by being taken in and called his daughter.
The red deer demon seemed to recognize you as well, a spark in his devilish eyes proved it so, but it was very brief since he more or less also seemed to relish the look on your face with his smile stretched further up.. however further up it could get.
Charlie seemed concerned at your reaction, waving her hand in front of your face gently as if to get you out of this trance. "Heyyy... are you okay?.." she asked with genuine worry until all of you were focused away from this bizarre moment when a set of three angels befell before you all. The two seraphims and finally-- St. Peter off from his break.
"_____. We can take it from here, we appreciate the help." The highest and oldest seraphim announced your name and her appreciation while gliding down a bit more earlier than the blonde angel you covered for, she and the younger seraphim's forms going from their true to more human-like appearances.
"_____! My dear friend thank you so much for covering for me, always a real helper you!" St. Peter popped beside you as he praised you while gently flying beside you, you looked up at him with a small nervous smile before opening your own wings to flap down from his podium and let him get back on the job.
"It's no problem at all, you know me! Always.. happy to help.." you spoke your last words to him before your wings gently took you down to set yourself beside another one of your friends, Emily! You never talked much to Sera that wasn't in a formal setting but Emily seemed so easy to get along with. She gave you a tight squeeze of a hug while saying hello which eased your nerves a bit more, of course they never fully disappeared with the man who ruined everything before you let out your last breath.. standing right in front of you.
The man that brought you up here in the first place.
The seraphims introduced themselves to the three residents of hell, the deer demon more quiet until finally finding a spot of silence to jump in and introduce himself as well.
"Why hello, a real pleasure meeting you two quite the pleasure! Never thought I'd ever get to see an angel up this close in my life HAHA! The names Alastor!"
The voice, the radio static over it, his name.
It was him, you recognized it as if you listened to him on the radio just yesterday, your own personal hell.
Whatever reaction or words the higher ranked angels said seemed to fizzle out of your brain as they were replaced with the memories of your last moments on earth.
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"Father!" you screamed as you ran up to your childhood home, the home to which you were raised and kept in, your home in which you lived in with your father, Alastor Altruist.
For sometime you had suspected foul play when it came to your father's weird actions when the night came, the tone he spoke through his radio show when announcing several murders happening across and haunting New Orleans. You just didn't want to truly believe that the man that found you, a poor little orphaned baby, and raised you would do such disgusting and diabolical crimes.
You couldn't believe it.. until you finally saw it.
Your legs scrambled and fought each step to become faster, finally reaching the door of your home you slammed it open with a strong kick after jiggling the doorknob didn't work.
You knew the next murder he would commit would happen in your home.. you thanked whatever force that made you disobey him and look through his study since if you didn't you wouldn't know that right now there was blood to be shed.
The door opening and with your kick full of adrenaline and panic it made the door barley cling onto it's hinges. There your father was, on top of a wounded man that seemed to be gurgling and gasping to breathe as the victim attempted to claw at Alastor's grasp. Pieces of glass and wood broken across the entire floor, walls bloodied and worn out, pictures that hung neatly now cracked and lopsided or shattered on the floor.
Whatever happened in here, the victim was sure a fighter in the beginning.
You immediately without hesitation with full force pushed Alastor off the man, pulling the bloodied stranger by his wrist. The victim and you stared for a moment, him mostly realizing that he's being saved by a young girl like you. His lips parted to thank you but you could see Alastor raise his kitchen knife in the air and sprinted toward him to stab him on the back.
With no words left to share or spill you grabbed the stranger by the shoulders and with all your might pushed him and yourself away so that in the end Alastor ended up stabbing nothing but air.
Alastor grunted in frustration, his bloodied smile yet never faltering despite the challenge you now gave him.
The man snapped his head at you, eyes fixated at you before snapping back to his victim and raising his knife up once more, in a haunting motion his steps creeped and creaked towards the injured New Orleans citizen stricken with fear and terror.
Just like that, Alastor slams his knife down with no hesitation. The knife fully in his prey with no inch of the blade uncovered.
Oh-- wait.
That shriek, the sobs, the shaky breathing and the coughs of blood.. that wasn't his victim.
It was you.
His daughter, he stabbed his daughter.
For a moment you could see his crazed smile falter, the humane part of him uncovering itself for a moment, for you.
His little girl was covered in her blood because of him, the little baby he found on that cold rainy day is dying because of him, his bundle of joy that he took years to take care of is leaving him.. and it's all his fault.
He didn't know it was you-- he didn't know you'd be that stupid to sacrifice yourself for some random prick.
He didn't know that in the end, someone as evil as him could have raised someone as selfless as you.
"p..papa..?" you whimpered, your painful coughs of blood spilling out and going down your chin and your neck. "It hurts-- g.. it hurts so much papa.." you cried as the knife in your chest seemed to feel as if it was melting into your skin, becoming one with you. It obviously wasn't but the pain was just that painful.
Alastor's smile faltered and kept trying to stay up, his own set of tears falling down his face and onto your cheeks that were slowly losing life. Regret stabbing his own heart the way he did to yours. He let go of the knife and instead cradled you in his arms, just like how he used to when you would have nightmares as a little girl.
"Shh.. Shh.." he shush you softly as he gently patted your head, moving away any uneven strands of hair he could spot with his hands trembling in regret. "Little one.. don't worry about a thing, papa's here.. " he mumbled, the gentleness replacing what once was pure aggressiveness.
Your eyes slowly started to flutter closed, your pulse slowing down, breathing less profound, your limbs going limp, and your face.. contorting into a peaceful state of slumber.
Alastor watched as you passed in his arms, his faltering smile picking itself up once more to stretch itself across his face with tears pouring out his eyes. This wasn't a smile of joy, it was a smile to hide what he truly felt.. to lie to himself. "My little angel, forgive me please."
Those were his last words to you, words that in the end you couldn't hear.
And that man he tried to kill earlier? He escaped when he was given the chance, Alastor was sure the cops were to invade his home soon.. now there was just one thing left to do before he'd be found once again to pay the consequences.
He took your body to a beautiful forest filled with flower meadows. Alastor knew this was one of your favorite spots as a young girl, why not let you rest here.
Ah but as he was preparing to bury you in your final resting place... that darn deer hunter.
Well, you know the story. Mistaken for a deer, shot, that's the end of Alastor Altruist and his darling daughter, ______ Altruist.
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As you stood there you were awoken from your thoughts with the high angels escorting the princess and her other female companion into the gates of heaven, St. Peter welcoming them humbly with one of heaven's popular songs.
You were frozen, in shock. A chill went down your spine as you felt a foreign energy come closer.
You felt long fingers grapple themselves onto your shoulder which made you dramatically turn towards the hand and away from it.
Your father wanted to talk to you.
Your contrasting colors and appearances made this reunitement even more uncomfortable for you, his demon form seeming to match his disgusting self that he hid from the human world before.
His face was hard to read, especially with that signature smile of his that even in death he would never get rid of.
"Little one, my darling daughter.." he spoke, his voice seemingly trying to seem genuine but the radio filter over it made it feel condescending to you.. as if mocking you.
The look on your face was evident, you missed him so much but hated him with your entire being because of that hidden side he kept for years.
He continued "My little ____... out of all places I never thought I'd see you here. Oh but it's definitely much better than down under my little dove.."
Geez what was he even saying?? What were his intentions..?? You couldn't tell.. after all this time, you couldn't forgive this man, this serial killer, this demon, this.. monster. You couldn't.. not this soon anyways.
You took a deep inhale and exhale before fixing your posture and stance, trying to seem more professional and confident. "Sir, your hosts and companions are ahead of you. You wouldn't want to miss your introduction to a place you'll never see again after this day." Your voice stern and professional, trying your best to be void of emotion.
"Darling.. is that truly a way to greet your dear ol' father?" He spoke, hand stretched out while the other held onto his staff.
"Your friends are waiting on you, don't be late Alastor."
Just like that you turned your heel and gave him the cold shoulder, your wings spread and started flapping. Taking you up and away further into your home.. Alastor watched you as you left him once again, this time by choice.
Ah but he knew, he'd have his darling daughter back soon. His little angel that he cared for will forgive him.. he knew you had to.
With his grin widening even further he walked to catch up to the Princess of hell and her partner into the pearly gates, to see what other thing could entertain him while his daughter snapped back to her senses.
(hello!! thank you so much for reading I had a blast with this. as you can tell. once again thank you so much for reading! hope to see you soon! mwa mwa!)
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asilentsongbird · 7 months
Text
Original post
"You have been charged with evading arrest. Do you accept the charges against you?"
You really don't know what to say. Especially since it's Neuvillette asking you.
You had been quietly, secretly dating for a few months. Neither of you were ready to talk with others about your relationship, and Neuvillette was always worried someone might use your relationship to their own advantage.
You shrug at your boyfriend, unsure of what to do. He lets out a sigh, as though this whole thing is an inconvenience. It sort of is.
He knows as well as you do that the charges won't stick. Because out of all the places you were last night, you were in the perfect place for an airtight alibi.
You were in Neuvillette's arms.
"I suppose?" you manage, feeling quite put on the spot.
It can't be helped, really. Though you had been to the Opera House before, you had never been there as a defendant. Most of the time you came here to pick Neuvillette up when he worked too late.
"Then we shall proceed."
Your shoulders slump slightly. Well, at least you'll get to see the Fortress of Meropide.
"Though typically at this time we would go over the charges and discuss evidence, I will have to intervene on this trial. The defendant could not have evaded arrest," Neuvillette said calmly, arms crossed over his chest.
To anyone else, he looks like the picture of ease. It's kind of nice being so close to Neuvillette right now, it allows only you to see the tips of his ears turn pink.
"Oh? And how can you say that?" Furina demands, looking quite upset that she isn't going to get a show.
Somehow, Neuvillette manages to stay composed as he answers, "Because she was with me last night."
Oh, poor Neuvillette looks ready to die from embarrassment. He was never going to live this down.
"I KNEW IT!"
You cover your face with your hands out of embarrassment, though it was a bit funny to see Furina leaning over the balcony of her chair, looking beyond happy that Neuvillette finally said something.
"Yes, well, if that is all, then I will dismiss this case," Neuvillette said, clearly embarrassed.
"IT MOST CERTAINLY IS NOT ALL!"
From the excited look on Furina's face, and the exasperated one on Neuvillette's, you had a feeling that this really was far from over.
Oh well, at least you don't have to keep anything a secret anymore.
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pucksandpower · 1 month
Text
Sleepyhead
Charles Leclerc x Reader
Summary: sometimes race weekends can be so tiring that words escape you, but that has never been a problem for your doting boyfriend
Based on this request
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You walk down the paddock path, utterly exhausted after a long day at the track. Your eyelids feel like lead weights and you can barely put one foot in front of the other. Charles has his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, practically carrying your limp body as you lean into him for support.
“Tired, mon petit chou?” Charles asks softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You just let out a little grunt in response, too drained to even form words.
As you round the corner, Logan Sargeant spots the two of you and rushes over with a big grin. “Hey guys! How’s it going?”
Charles gives him a polite smile. “Hello, mate. We’re doing well, just a bit tired after such a busy day.”
Logan turns to look at you, his eyebrows furrowed. “Y/N? Are you okay? You look kind of … mad or something.”
You blink slowly at him, your brain taking its time to process his words. Mad? Why would you be mad? You just shake your head minutely, rubbing your cheek against Charles’ shoulder.
“Oh no, she’s not angry,” Charles explains with a little chuckle. “This is just how she gets when she’s really tired. She goes all quiet and doesn’t speak. Her body language is the only way to read her moods then.”
“Yeah, and right now she’s giving off major sleepy kitten vibes,” Oscar’s voice chimes in as he joins the little group with Lando beside him. “Lando gets the exact same way when he’s exhausted. He turns into a limp noodle that I have to carry around.”
Lando huffs indignantly. “Hey! I do not!”
“Yes you do,” Oscar laughs. “Remember that time in Monza last year? You were falling asleep on your feet after the race.”
Lando rolls his eyes but a fond smile tugs at his lips. “Okay fine, maybe I do. But only sometimes!”
You let their playful banter wash over you, your heavy eyelids sliding shut as you nestle further into Charles’ embrace. You feel so safe and comforted in his arms, his solid warmth enveloping you.
“Alright, I think it’s time we got you back to the hotel for some rest,” Charles murmurs, pressing another kiss to your hair. “Say goodnight to the boys.”
You manage a tiny wave at Logan, Oscar, and Lando before allowing Charles to steer you down the paddock towards the exit. His hand runs up and down your back soothingly.
“Goodnight you two! Get some sleep!” Oscar calls after you.
Once you reach the car, Charles helps you into the passenger seat, buckling you in gently before jogging around to the driver’s side. You’re asleep before he even starts the engine, finally giving in to the exhaustion weighing you down.
The sound of a car door opening rouses you from your slumber sometime later. You slowly blink your eyes open, taking in your surroundings. Charles’ hand is tenderly stroking your cheek.
“Mon amour, we’re at the hotel. Let’s get you up to our room, hmm?”
You nod drowsily, allowing him to unbuckle you and help you out of the car. He pulls you into his side, one arm securely around your waist as you walk unsteadily towards the hotel entrance. Grateful doesn’t even begin to cover what you feel for this man by your side.
Once in the elevator, Charles shifts to face you fully, those warm green eyes shining with nothing but pure adoration. He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear.
“You did so well today. I’m so proud of you for working so hard. Let’s get you nice and warm in bed now.”
You give him a tired little smile, nuzzling your face against his chest. He chuckles softly, squeezing you tighter.
Eventually you make it to the hotel room, Charles guiding you straight to the plush king bed. He helps you out of your clothes until you’re down to your underwear, then pulls back the covers for you to slip between the soft sheets. A happy sigh slips from your lips when your head hits the pillow. Charles presses a lingering kiss to your forehead.
“Sleep well, mon cœur. I’ll be right here when you wake up,” he whispers, laying down beside you.
You immediately curl into his side, draping an arm over his stomach as you burrow your face into the crook of his neck. His arms wrap around you, making you feel so small yet so incredibly cherished. With Charles holding you snugly against his chest, you drift off into a deep, peaceful slumber.
When consciousness returns, the first thing that registers is the solid warmth of Charles’ body pressed against yours. His leg is hooked over yours, his chest rising and falling steadily beneath your cheek. There’s a pleasant ache to your limbs, the satisfying kind that comes from a good rest after a long day. You shift slightly, causing Charles to stir awake.
“Bonjour, ma belle,” he murmurs, his sexy morning voice making butterflies flutter in your stomach. You tilt your head up to meet his sleepy but adoring gaze, suddenly drowning in those green pools. God, he’s so beautiful.
“Good morning,” you whisper back, rubbing your nose against his.
Charles breaks into a dazzling grin, capturing your lips in a soft, slow kiss that steals your breath away. When he pulls back, he cups your cheek tenderly.
“Did you sleep well? Feeling more rested now?”
“Mmhmm,” you hum, smiling lazily. “Sleeping in your arms is the best.”
He laughs, his eyes crinkling. “I couldn’t agree more. I love holding you close like this.”
Your heart swells three sizes as he gazes at you with such naked affection. This man loves you so fiercely, so completely. You can see it in his every look, his every touch. He treasures you in a way you never thought possible. Feeling brave, you let the words sitting heavily on your tongue finally slip out.
“Je t’aime, Charles … mon amour.”
His smile turns blinding, happier than you’ve ever seen it. “I love you too, with all my heart,” he breathes, pulling you in for another lingering kiss.
You melt into the embrace, pouring every ounce of love and gratitude you feel for this incredible man into the kiss. Nothing has ever felt so right, so perfect than being here in his arms. As Charles strokes your cheek and deepens the kiss, you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’ll always feel safe, cherished, and deeply loved by this extraordinary man.
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valeskafics · 8 months
Text
"Ravenous" - Aemond Targaryen x Hightower Cousin!Reader
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Summary: When Aemond said that once the two of you are wed he won't let you leave your marital bed for a week, he meant it.
TW: canon typical incest, profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, loss of v*rginity, mild religion k*nk, purity culture, overstim, oral f receiving, f*ngering, p in v sex, breeding k*nk, size k*nk if you squint, corruption k*nk
Word Count: 5,000 words
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated ❤️
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When Prince Aemond Targaryen is betrothed to the young Lady Hightower, the daughter of his uncle, Ser Gwayne, he is less than enthused. He has heard of you, a meek, shy little thing who clings to your mother’s skirts and can always be found praying in some sept or the other. The idea of being married to you sounds, to him, like an utter and absolute bore. He hopes, as your carriage arrives at the entrance of the Red Keep, that you at least are not as unattractive as he has pictured you in his mind’s eye. He watches as your father disembarks from the carriage first, greeting Queen Alicent and Lord Otto first, and then the rest of the rest of the family. Your mother, Lady Hightower, exits next, her head held high. She is a stern-looking woman, Aemond muses, and thinks that this does not bode well for him as far as you are concerned.
And then, he sees you.
You move out of the carriage, a cloak draped around your shoulders, hiding from his view until you remove the hood, revealing your gorgeous dark curly hair, your gorgeous doe eyes, your full lips that look so very kissable. Gods, he can’t stop looking at those lips, unable to utter so much as a greeting, just imagining how wonderful they’d look wrapped around his-
“Good day, cousin,” you speak in a soft, sweet voice, barely above a whisper as your lady’s maid takes your cloak, revealing your form to him.
Aemond’s throat goes dry and he does not reply for a long moment, eyeing you with a lustful gaze, admiring the way your gown is cut, allowing him to admire the swell of your breasts as you breathe, the curve of your hips as you approach him and bend into a curtsy, giving him an even better view. Your Seven Pointed Star necklace is nestled in your cleavage and he watches as you take it between your delicate fingers, fiddling with it, something he assumes is a nervous habit.
“Are you well, Your Grace?” you ask in that same dulcet voice, your tone now displaying some concern due to his lack of response.
He keeps looking at you, biting his lip as he imagines all the things he wishes to do with you right in this moment, before finally answering, his voice low and smooth, “I am well, my lady. And you? I trust your journey was pleasant.”
“I am well, cousin, and the journey went smoothly by the Seven’s grace, though I am quite tired,” you pause before speaking, “Since it is well past suppertime, I was just going to visit the royal sept to say my evening prayers before retiring for the evening.”
Aemond doesn’t bother to tear his lascivious gaze from your chest, watching it rise and fall with your every breath, straining against the confines of your bodice, “I am happy to hear that, my lady. Might I accompany you for your prayers?”
You meet his eye for a moment before averting your gaze, bowing your head, “As you wish, my prince.”
Aemond offers you his arm, watching as you turn to your parents as if seeking their approval. Your mother frowns slightly but your father nods, smiling at you and urging you on. You take Aemond’s arm and he begins leading you to the sept.
You startle slightly when he turns to you, his face startlingly close to yours as he asks, “Are you a devout servant of the Seven, my lady?”
You nod, answering him quietly, “Yes, my prince. I had considered becoming a septa before our betrothal was announced.”
Aemond gives you a wry smile, the thought of you as a septa being somewhat erotic to him in some strange way, “If such a beautiful woman became a septa, it would be a true loss for the realm. The men would weep, or at least I would.”
His words flatter you and you resist the urge to giggle, instead smiling shyly, “Thank you, my prince.”
Aemond gazes at your lips from the corner of his eye. Soft and full and the color just screaming “kiss me”. As if they were made for a man’s kiss, and he is the man to do it. He keeps his eye on you as the two of you walk through the Red Keep, nearing the sept, flickering between your lips and your cleavage. Aemond smirks to himself as he grows hard in his breeches, brushing the evidence of his arousal against you as the two of you enter the sept, reveling in the quiet gasp you let out.
He stares at you intently as the two of you approach the altar and you light a candle, bowing your head in prayer, repeating the names of the Seven. He doesn’t close his eye. He simply stares at you as your lips form the words and thinks of nothing but you and the things he wishes to do to you. You place a gold dragon in the collection box and stand up, waiting for Aemond to escort you to your chambers. He watches the way your hips move as you walk. He takes your arm again and the two of you walk to your chambers in silence.
You turn to him, gazing up at him with those sweet, innocent eyes as you murmur, “Thank you for the escort, my prince. Goodnight.”
Aemond watches as you close the door, standing in front of it for a long moment. He wonders what to do. Should he knock and ask if he can enter? No, he’d be a fool for doing that. He has to play it safe, even if every fiber of his being is crying for him to open the door and make you his. He turns on his heel and leaves, resolved to return to his chambers and relieve himself while imagining it is your soft, petite hand doing the task for him.
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The next morning, he sees you at breakfast, seated between his mother and sister, looking the picture of innocence, a sweet maiden ready to be claimed by a hungry dragon. He stares at you, his gaze lingering on your mouth, your bosom-
“Good morrow, my prince,” comes your sweet greeting as you stand, curtsying to greet him.
He doesn’t reply for a moment, wondering if it would be too improper to just bend you over the table and claim you in full view of everyone present, but restrains himself and answers, his voice a low rasp, “Good morrow to you too, my lady.”
After saying a prayer, everyone present begins  to eat. Aemond’s gaze is drawn to you, the way you pick a strawberry up from your plate and begin eating it, the way it disappears between your plump lips, the juices from it dribbling down your fingers. It’s kind of adorable, he thinks. And then? He sees you glance around, to make sure no one’s watching, before you lick your fingers clean. He lets out a low groan, one that luckily goes unheard by the others at the table, and barely manages to make it through breakfast. When the meal is over, he walks to you, offering you his hand.
“My lady,” he murmurs.
You startle slightly, looking like a frightened fawn as he gazes at you with that intense blue eye, “Yes my prince?”
“Would you like to accompany me for a walk in the gardens? I wish to speak with you privately,” he says, taking your hand in his, helping you to your feet.
The two of you walk to the gardens, and he leads you deeper and deeper inside until you’re far from anyone’s wandering eyes. You seem a bit skittish, he thinks, as you glance around.
“Is it appropriate for us to be here without a chaperone?” you ask a bit timidly.
“Do not worry, my lady,” he whispers in your ear as the two of you come to a stop, “I simply wanted to discuss something with you.”
“Oh,” you nod in acknowledgement, gazing up at him with those devastating doe eyes, “As you wish, my prince.”
“Do you recall,” Aemond asks quietly, not letting go of your hand as he stares at your lips, “When we prayed to the Seven in the sept just last night?”
You nod, your free hand moving up to fiddle with your necklace once again, “Yes, my prince, I do.”
Aemond takes a step closer to you, leaving only the slightest bit of room between your bodies, his eye moving to your breasts, “Do you know, sweet girl, what the Seven Pointed Star says about what a man and woman do in their marriage bed?”
He watches as you bite your lip, looking away from him as you respond, “Yes, my prince. The union between a husband and wife is a holy thing. A celebration of the gods’ love for us.”
Aemond’s hands move to your waist, pulling you flush up against him. He revels in the tiny gasp you let out as your chest makes contact with his, the way your breath comes out in soft little pants. You’re simply adorable when you’re nervous, he muses.
“I want us to celebrate that act of love, here and now.”
You freeze, looking up at him, your eyes wide with shock, “Surely, my prince, you do not mean-”
Aemond’s hands move lower, caressing your hips as he barely holds back the moan that threatens to escape his lips, “My lady, I must insist. You are the perfect woman and I believe the gods blessed me the day they betrothed you to me.”
You attempt to reason with him, though his touch has made it quite difficult for you to think straight, “My prince, we are indeed betrothed, but we are not yet wed. To lie together before being married would be a direct affront to the Seven.”
He leans in, inhaling the sweet scent of your hair, like jasmine and roses, before whispering, “I know, my lady, but I cannot control myself. The mere sight of you drives me mad. Can you blame me for succumbing to my desire for you?”
You attempt to step back and keep some distance between yourself and the handsome prince, “Your Grace, please, our wedding ceremony is in only a fortnight, I implore you-”
He presses you up against the pillar behind you, grinding himself against your soft body, so pliant in his hands, “Yes, our wedding is in a fortnight from now,” he whispers in your ear, “But the wedding is not about you and me. Only for the eyes of the king and the court. But what of the feelings I have for you?” Aemond looks at you imploringly, “I cannot control them. Surely, as a good pious woman, you believe that love is a virtue and not meant to be controlled.”
“Yes, but it is our duty to resist our lustful urges-”
Aemond rolls his hips against yours, causing you to cut yourself off with a gasp as he speaks, his lips ghosting along your neck, his breath tickling your skin, “You are a cruel, cruel woman, my lady. Denying me your body. I want, nay, I need to claim you now.”
You shake your head vehemently, ignoring the how good it feels to have him this close to you, how intoxicating his presence is, “You will bring your honor upon both yourself and upon me, my prince,” you gaze up at him softly, “‘Tis only a fortnight more.”
Aemond heaves a deep sigh and nods, resting his forehead against yours, “Very well, my lady. But,” he moves his hand to your chin, gripping it between his thumb and forefinger, your lips nearly touching, your breath intermingling, “The moment you become my bride, I will ravage you like a dragon in a frenzy.”
You feel your face warm at his words, whispering softly, “That is a very vivid description, my prince.”
Aemond nose brushes along your cheek as he moves to whisper in your ear, “I can tell you all about how I’m going to ravage you in vivid detail if you’d like, my lady,” he smirks as your lips part in anticipation of what he is about to say, “I can tell you about how I am going to hold you in my arms and kiss those beautiful pouting lips. I can tell you how I will kiss you for hours, until your lips are swollen. I can describe the way your breasts will heave as I push you against the wall and claim you,” you whimper slightly as he nips at your earlobe before continuing, running his thumb over your plump lower lip, “I shall start by carrying you to our chambers and close the door. I will pin you against the wall and kiss you passionately, moving to your neck, then your chest, then back to your lips. I will move slowly, caressing your thighs and your hips. I shall lift your dress and then I shall taste you,” he smirks at the audible gasp you let out at his words, “I will kiss you where no one has kissed you before. Your body is meant to be mine and mine alone.”
You gaze up at him, leaning into his touch as he cups your face in his hands, “My prince… I…”
Aemond stares at you, his gaze ablaze with passion, “You are as beautiful as the morning spring and you should be treated as such. When you wed me, sweet girl, you will no longer be an innocent lady but my woman. And as your man I intend to taste the sweetness of your body,” he chuckles, turning your face back to him when you attempt to turn away, “Do you want that, sweet girl? Do you want to feel my lips on your body, my tongue buried in your sweet little cunny?” Aemond’s lewd words nearly offend you, but they fascinate you far more, “Do you want to feel yourself in a man’s arms for the first time in your life? The way your heart will pound and your legs will shake, your breath growing heavy in the moment I make you reach your peak? Your first kiss, your first time, all with me.”
You admit, in a soft, breathy voice that drives him mad with want, “Yes…”
“Good,” he all but growls into your ear, “I will be the first to touch your beautiful, soft skin. The one who takes your innocence. I will touch everywhere there is to touch and I will bring you the greatest pleasure you have ever felt, leaving you just as ravenous for my touch as I am for yours. Won’t you grant me,” he leans in, “Just one kiss from those sweet lips of yours?”
You gaze up at him, lips parted as your eyes meet his, entranced, “I…”
Aemond presses his lips against yours, silencing any protests you may have, his mouth hungry for yours. He crushes you to his chest, nipping at your lower lip, snaking his tongue into your mouth when you gasp in surprise, moving it against yours with an almost feverish intensity, moaning against your lips.
The two of you finally part for air, gazing at each other, breathless. You hear your mother calling for you in the distance and immediately pull away from Aemond, knowing the lecture you will receive even for something as seemingly innocent as a kiss.
“We will continue this later,” Aemond promises, running the back of his hand along the bare skin of your arm, “You must go with your mother and I will find mine.”
You part from Aemond, your mind in a daze about all of the words he spoke to you, the promises he made about what he will do to you. You manage to avoid being alone with him for the most part in the days leading up to the wedding, though you can always feel his gaze on you, hungry and wanting, lingering.
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When the day of the wedding arrives and you make your way down the aisle, dressed in a fine gown made of white silk that clings to your form, Aemond’s gaze is locked on you. He watches as you walk toward him, the way your gown covers yet accentuates the curves of your body, the sweet look on your face making him want nothing more than to whisk you away to your marriage bed. He can barely contain himself as the septon says his words, the two of you following suit. The two of you keep sneaking glances at each other, locking gazes, a small smile playing on your lips.
“You are all mine, my lady,” he whispers in your ear as he wraps his cloak around you bringing you under his protection.
“Indeed I am, husband,” you smile up at him softly, your fingers intertwining.
As the two of you walk toward the feasting hall, Aemond gazes at your lips, “Shall we retire to our chambers?”
“There is an entire feast we must attend in honor of our wedding, my husband,” you remind him gently.
Aemond nods absently, but he is not thinking about your wedding feast at all. All he can think about is you.
“I cannot wait to claim you in our marriage bed, my pretty wife. When we reach it, I shan’t let you leave it for a week.”
You feel the back of your neck heat up at your husband’s words, “And so you shall, husband, just be a patient a while longer.”
He chuckles darkly as the two of you enter the hall and are applauded, making your way to your seats of honor, “That’s the problem, my lady. I am not a patient man.”
The wedding feast goes on, the tension between you and Aemond growing by the minute. He rests his hand over yours, moving his thumb against the back of your palm, moving to your pulse point every so often, feeling it. At some point, his nephew, Prince Jacaerys, comes to your table and asks you for a dance, considering you have been seated for the entirety of the evening’s festivities. You turn to Aemond, silently asking if he minds. He nods, gesturing for you to dance with Jace. However, the longer the dance goes on, the more he feels like his blood is boiling beneath his skin, Jace’s hands on your waist as the two of you move, the stupid bastard. What right does he have to touch you?
Aemond decides to walk over to the two of you, a curious silence falling over the hall as he takes your hand, “My lady, may I cut in? I wish to have our first dance as husband and wife.”
You nod happily as Aemond takes you into his arms and leads you in a dance, all eyes in the room on the beautiful couple, who look completely enchanted by each other as they spin across the room. 
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He scarcely lets you out of his sight the rest of the feast, and soon enough? It is time for the two of you to retire to your chambers. You take a tremulous breath as Aemond lifts you into his arms, just as he promised, and carries you all the way to the room you will now share as man and wife. His arms feel so very strong around you as he holds you, the walk feeling both impossibly long and not long enough with the anxiety and excitement rising inside you.
A lady’s maid waits in the room to disrobe you, but Aemond dismisses her, setting you down so that you may stand, “I shall do it myself. We have no need of you.”
You give the girl a sheepish, apologetic smile as she leaves, seeming scandalized by the whole ordeal. Aemond closes the door, turning to face you once more. He walks toward you with all the grace of an apex predator, stalking its prey. He moves to undo your wedding gown, turning you so that your back is to him. He undoes the laces, one by one, admiring as the skin of your back is revealed to him little by little. He runs the back of his fingers along your spine, reveling in the way you shiver at his touch. The dress falls to the ground in a crumpled heap, leaving you in only your thin slip. Aemond presses a kiss to the nape of your neck, moving your curls aside, then moves his lips along your shoulders, down the length of your arm. He turns you to face him and removes his tunic, revealing his well-muscled chest and torso.
You decide to move your hands to undo his breeches and Aemond admires the way your hands look as they deftly undo the laces. His pants fall to the ground, leaving him fully bare before you. It is your first time ever seeing a man like this, and the size of his length is intimidating. You absently wonder how that is meant to fit inside you, with how long and thick he is. Aemond moves toward you, moving his hands to the thin straps that hold your slip up, unfastening them and watching as your bare form is finally revealed to him. Your breasts, so full and round, meant to be caressed by his hands, your stomach, your shoulders, your thighs… He does not know what he did to deserve such a beautiful wife, but he will not question it.
“Lie back on the bed,” he instructs you, removing his eyepatch and setting it on the nightstand.
You admire the way his sapphire glows in the candlelight and Aemond delights in the fact that you do not shrink away from him in disgust after he bares himself to you. It makes him feel like a man worthy of you.
You heed his directions and lay back on the bed, watching as he crawls over you, his hands moving up your calves, squeezing the supple flesh of your thighs as he parts your legs, revealing you to him fully. He takes your foot in his hand, pressing a kiss to your ankle, leaving a trail of kisses along the inside of your leg, up your thigh, before he tastes you, just as he promised. You nearly cry out with surprise as you feel his tongue licking a stripe along your entrance. It feels almost unbearably pleasurable and you find yourself moving away from him, unsure what to do with yourself. But, again, your husband surprises you by moving your thighs so that they rest on his shoulders as he moves his mouth against you. You feel his tongue delve inside you as he lets out a low moan at your taste, the vibration from it driving you even more mad with want. With one hand you grasp at the sheets, desperately trying to find purchase, while your other hand tangles itself in his hair.
You feel the pleasure building in your stomach, like a dam getting ready to burst, and when it does, you all but scream Aemond’s name as your body writhes in the throes of ecstasy. Aemond, however, is not done tasting you, it would seem, and he moves to take your swollen pearl between his lips, suckling at it. Aemond smirks at the sound of your mewls as you try to squirm away from him, but to no avail. He makes you peak not once, but twice more by playing with your pearl alone.
When his lips finally part from your cunny, he kisses you, a searing hot kiss full of passion as his hand wraps in your hair, pulling you close to him, kissing you as though he wishes to consume your very being. Your chest is pressed flush against his and he moves his lips to your neck, biting down, his tongue laving attention over the abused skin, soothing it. Aemond’s lips move to your breasts, squeezing them in his hands, caressing your nipples with the pads of his thumbs, smirking as they pebble under his touch. He moves his lips to take one in his mouth, causing you to let out a soft moan at the sensation, your eyes meeting his as he gazes up at you, a smirk clearly playing at the corner of his lips as he suckles at your breast. He switches to your neglected breast, before tracing his fingers along the inside of your thighs, up to your core. 
You whimper slightly as he pushes one finger inside you. The sensation is so very foreign but incredible as you feel him teasing your cunt. Then, he adds a second finger, preparing you to take his cock no doubt, moving them in and out of you in a crooked motion, rubbing against a spot deep inside of you that you, in your inexperience, have never quite been able to reach. The pleasure he’s giving you is intense, especially as he adds a third finger, and you feel something inside you is about to burst.
His thumb moves to press down on your still sensitized pearl and with a cry of his name, you soak his fingers with your arousal, watching as it spills on his fingers. At first you panic, thinking that something else has happened, but Aemond moves his fingers to his lips, moaning at the taste as he licks at them before pushing them between your own lips. You taste yourself on him, your tongue moving along his fingers, curious and almost kitten-like.
Aemond chuckles, “Your lips will look so beautiful wrapped around my cock, sweet girl. But tonight is about you, my wife.”
He pushes you back to lay down on the bed, positioning himself between your legs. You know the moment has come for him to take your maidenhead, at least figuratively. The septa confirmed that you shall not bleed since you broke it riding, like many noble ladies do. You watch as Aemond gives his cock a quick stroke before slowly pressing the head against your core. You close your eyes as he fills you, moving slowly, inch by glorious inch of his cock entering you, the pain minimal due to the lengths he went to prepare you. You feel his every vein, every ridge, as he pushes into you, bottoming out inside of you, propping himself up on one elbow, his free hand resting on your cheek.
“Are you hurting?” he asks you seriously, his silver hair falling like a curtain around the two of you, shading you from the world in this little room you call your own, your own little world of sorts, “Tell me if I can move, sweet girl.”
After a moment, you nod, “Yes, husband. Please.”
He grins at you devilishly before snapping his hips against yours, watching as you throw your head back against your pillow and cry out his name, pleading for more. Gods, you make the prettiest sounds, he muses, and your cunt is so wet and tight and perfect around him.
“Feels like you were made just for me,” he growls as he slams his hips into you, over and over, his stones growing tight and heavy as they slap against your ass with each thrust, “Gods, I could stay buried inside this perfect little cunt forever. Would you like that, my love?”
“Yes,” you say, nearly sobbing with pleasure as your legs wrap around his hips, allowing him to pound into you deeper, hitting that spot inside of you that makes you feel as though you’ve ascended to the Seven Heavens themselves.
“My perfect little wife,” Aemond hisses, feeling you squeezing around him, “I’m going to fill you with my seed, over and over, breed you the way a good husband should. Watch you grow fat with my child, watch your tits swell with milk for our babe. You want that, don’t you? For me to breed you? For my spend to leak out from your tight little cunt?”
His words are downright filthy, but you cannot bring yourself to care as he continues fucking you, “Yes, husband, please fill me with your seed, Gods, Aemond, please-”
Aemond feels you tighten around him, knowing you will soon reach your peak and picks up his pace, enjoying the way your breasts bounce with each snap of his hips, the way your eyes are glazed over with desire as they gaze up at him, and your sweet lips parted as you moan out his name. You reach your peak, your walls hugging his cock tightly, prompting him to spill his seed deep inside you, filling you up just as he promised. He stays like that for a moment, sheathed inside you until he begins to soften and pulls out. He hears the way you pant for breath and pulls you into his embrace, holding you tightly.
“That was incredible,” you say softly as he tucks you under his chin.
“It was indeed, my sweet girl,” Aemond purrs, “And there will be more of it,” he pauses before looking at you, his gaze earnest, “I love you, my beautiful wife. I may not be the most gentle of men, but I will care for you and protect you as a dragon does.”
“I would ask for nothing less, my husband,” you say softly, pressing a kiss to his chest, “I love you too.”
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When you wake the next morning, Aemond is still asleep. Choosing not to wake your husband, you crawl out of bed and call for a maidservant to run you a bath. While you stand and wait, you’re shocked when you’re pushed up against the wall, your bare breasts pressed against the wood of the door.
“I promised you that you wouldn’t be leaving our bed for a week, my love,” Aemond purrs seductively, “And I assure you I meant it.”
You let out a contented sigh as he keeps his promise.
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4K notes · View notes
breadbrobin · 3 months
Text
“doc”
luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians
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[child of apollo reader, should be gender neutral]
i tried to write a summary but it sucked so: reader is a child of apollo and luke is always hanging around the infirmary with a new injury. you hate it (do you really?)
(this got so out of hand but im so obsessed with luke castellan rn it’s not even funny. like. help.)
warning: like one or two swear words, mentions of injuries and illness, fluff i think
word count: 1.2k
____________________
you’d never been a fan of luke castellan. you knew it, he knew it—hell, everyone at camp knew it.
but a little unfriendliness never stopped him.
children of apollo were meant to be warm and kind all the time, but you’d rather die before being happy-go-lucky all the time like your siblings. you’d rather do your job: healing the campers who injured themselves throughout the days at camp. you’d also rather those campers not include luke castellan for once, but not all wishes can come true.
scarcely a day could pass by without luke coming into the infirmary, or coming up to you elsewhere in camp if you weren’t there, with a minor injury that he insisted needed healing immediately.
“i just don’t think i can continue kayaking with a sprained ankle, y/n.”
“what if it was your knees you skinned? wouldn’t you want to get them healed so you could get back to arts and crafts?”
“if my cut finger isn’t healed as soon as possible i’ll have to sit capture the flag out tomorrow! yes, i know it’s a paper cut. that’s not the point!”
he really was ridiculous.
either way, you had to heal him, technically. at your heart, you were a good person. on the surface, you wanted to punch him. give him something to really cry about.
“y/n, your boyfriend’s here again.” one of your sisters, cassidy, called out to you as you checked the stock of bandaids.
you rolled your eyes, not even bothering to correct her. “what this time?”
“i just have the worst headache, doc. it’s killing me.” luke said dramatically, holding his forehead. the small grin on his face didn’t support his statement at all.
you turned around, eyes wide and face serious, but trying not to smirk. “oh no, you might have meningitis! if it’s the worst headache of your life, we should get to you a hospital so they can do a spinal tap and run some tests.”
the grin on his face faltered as you pulled him to a seat. “uh—“
“lie down. don’t move. i’m going to get chiron.”
he gripped your arm. “no, wait, i think—“
“you’ll be fine?” you turned around with raised brows. “yeah, thought so. drink some water, castellan.”
“but—“
“what? you won’t be able to do sword fighting practise with a headache? big deal.”
“y/n—“
“you need to stop coming in here every time you get bored. we’re not an entertainment space.”
“but, i really do have a headache. like. a migraine.”
you stopped and turned back around, dropping the bandages you had been organising. “oh. shit, i’m sorry. hold on.”
cursing yourself internally, you rushed off to get nectar to hopefully help, along with some painkillers and a bottle of chilled water. when you came back, luke was lying on the bed, eyes closed.
“you okay, soldier?” you patted his shoulder gently.
he cracked one eye open and nodded. “kind of.”
you gently pulled him to sit up. “come on. gotta get some meds in you. eat any food today? drink enough water?”
he shook his head as he sipped the nectar, his eyes squinted. “got busy.”
you shot him a disapproving look and he smiled guiltily. “you need to eat or you’ll die. do you want to die?”
he looked up at you with furrowed brows. “you don’t have a very good bedside manner, you know?”
“then why do you keep coming back here?” you went back to organising bandages, busying your hands.
“i like my doctors prettier than they are kind, honestly.”
you froze your movements and looked over at him. luke was smiling slightly. your cheeks weren’t turning red, you told yourself. they weren’t allowed to. “whatever,” you finally said. “take your meds, drink all of that water—sip it, don’t chug—then get some sleep, alright?”
he nodded, taking a sip of the water. “yes, doc. got it.”
you nodded at him firmly and walked off once he’d taken the painkillers, hoping he couldn’t see right through you.
luke hadn’t been to the infirmary in a week, and you were genuinely starting to get concerned.
every free moment you got, you were staring at the door, or out the window, waiting for him to come in with some stupid injury and even more stupid excuse. but he didn’t.
after watching you pace for the seventh time in one morning, cassidy groaned. “just go find him.”
“i’m sure he’s fine.” you said, wringing your hands. “i mean, he’s probably just busy.”
“just go. you’re stressing me out. i can’t get anything done with you filling the room with your nervous energy. go find your boyfriend.”
“luke’s not my boyfriend.”
“i never said who it was.”
“well, it was pretty obvious—“
“just go!” she threw a bandage at your head, effectively forcing you out the door.
you didn’t even know where he was.
camp was huge, so it took you around twenty minutes to find him, he sun glaring into your eyes and likely burning your cheeks. regardless, you were on a mission. finally, you spotted him in the arena. of course.
you watched for a while until he noticed you, standing in the shade with your eyes squinted in the sun and your arms crossed over your chest. he grinned and jogged over.
“hey, doc. what brings you here?” he asked, sheathing his sword.
your eyes followed the precise movement. “why haven’t you been to the infirmary?”
he shrugged. “i haven’t been injured.”
“didn’t stop you before.”
there was a silence.
then he smiled again. “did you miss me?”
your cheeks burned. “no!” you cleared your through awkwardly. “i just… i get… bored. and you… keep the monotony away.”
“you missed me.”
“i did not miss you.”
he leaned closer, rocking back and forth on his feet. “you missed me.”
you glared up at him, but couldn’t fight the tiny smile that forced itself on your lips. you shook your head, pressing your lips together tightly. “nope. didn’t miss you.”
“well,” he shrugged. “guess i don’t need to tell you that i did actually just hurt my hand while training, huh?”
you frowned. “are you aware that consuming as much nectar and ambrosia as you seem to want to will cause you to burn to a crisp?”
“i don’t need godly food if i have you as my doctor.” he smiled cheekily, clenching his fist then wincing. “seriously, though. it hurts.”
“aw, poor baby.” you pouted, leaning forward and placing your hand on his and trying to feel if there was any injury present.
before you could do anything, his fingers had interlocked with yours and he was stepping closer to you.
you looked up at him, heart pounding and cheeks burning. “what are you—“
“i don’t know what we can do for a date around here, but i’d love to take you on one, doc.” he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft.
you froze, heart fluttering. butterflies danced in your stomach. you found yourself nodding before you could stop yourself, smiling. “okay. yeah. take me on a date, soldier.”
“yeah?” he smiled, squeezing your hand. “great! i’ve been trying to work up the guts to ask you for weeks now. also, can i kiss you?”
“i’ve been trying to pretend i didn’t want you to ask me for weeks.” you said, stepping slightly closer to him. “also… yes.”
his free hand cupped your cheek and his lips pressed to yours, soft and sweet.
you wondered why you ever said you didn’t like him.
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loaksky · 10 months
Text
— 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒊𝒏𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 & 𝒊 | 𝒆. 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒎𝒔
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mean neighbor!ellie x sunshine fem!reader, angst / fluff / hurt + comfort, modern!au warnings: language / 18+ content (mdni!), wc: 5k
you have a hot new neighbor…too bad she doesn’t want a thing to do with you!
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tagging those who commented / liked my previous interest post!: @loversreligion , @tahni-04 , @parrotpeggy , @acnologiasgf , @maybe-cece (happy birthday gemini queen ! <3)
an — first time writing for ellie ! content warnings include oral (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving). not my first time writing 18+ content, but my first time posting eeek. i apologize for the person ellie has turned me into lmaooo. feel free to send me more ideas, blurbs, hcs, etc.
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neighbor!ellie who moves in on a hot sticky july day.
ac’s busted in the common areas, elevator hasn’t worked in weeks, and she’s moved into a unit on the fifth floor.
neighbor!ellie who’s admittedly too far gone and incredibly irritated because jesse keeps fucking around and they almost drop her flat screen on the third flight of steps.
neighbor!ellie who finally gets most of the boxes and furniture settled and doesn’t even get to collapse on the couch for .2 seconds before someone’s knocking on the door.
yanks the knob so hard, the door rattles on its hinges.
eyes narrow when she sees you, all neat, not sweaty, dressed in an outfit definitely not indicative of a night in. only makes her even more annoyed because she just wants two seconds of peace.
“yes?” her tone is sharp, gaze bored because your lips part thrice before the words are spilling out.
“i know it’s miserable out, and this building can be a piece of shit, so i made some blackberry tea!”
neighbor!ellie who gives the glass, beaded with condensation, a brief glance before crossing her arms over her chest.
“i’m allergic to blackberries,” ellie says flatly.
your round eyes widen impossibly before tucking the glass behind your back.
“oh fuck, i’m so sorry,” you babble. “i have peach! or maybe mint? i—”
“i’ll pass.”
neighbor!ellie who doesn’t beat around the bush and makes a move to close the door because she hadn’t even checked into the conversation.
“if you ever need anything, i’m right next door!” you chirp. “i’m-”
“yup, yeah, got it. good night.”
and the door is shutting in your face.
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neighbor!ellie who’s trying to sleep in because she stayed up all night playing tekken 4 with jesse jolting awake when she hears three soft raps against the front door.
has an inkling of who it could be so she’s only mildly surprised when she sees you standing on the welcome mat that says ‘no weenies allowed’ because jesse thought it was the funniest thing (ellie’d been only slightly amused).
“morning,” you smile.
you have a plate covered in foil in your hands and ellie gives you a brief onceover to find that you’re dressed to the nines again (admittedly it’s just a simple sundress, but the red and white ginham cuts at the meatiest part of your thighs and she has to remind herself to keep her eyes up).
“it’s…” ellie trails off, glances at the clock on the oven to find that it’s not even 9am. “…8:52am on a saturday morning.”
“it is,” you agree, extending the plate to her. “i, uh, hope you’re not allergic to pancakes?”
“…i’m not.”
you beam.
“great!”
you’re shoving the food in her hands before she can decline and ellie finds that the ceramic is still warm.
neighbor!ellie who awkwardly holds the plate up to you as a silent thanks and shuts the door in your hopeful face.
“i gotta give it to you williams, didn’t think you’d pull within 24 hours,” jesse mutters groggily from the couch he’d helped her lug up the stairs yesterday afternoon.
“oh fuck off,” she huffs, tearing the foil from the plate to find a five-stack of fluffy pancakes with two cute little strawberry-shaped containers that has butter and syrup respectively.
“who’s it from?” jesse asks, even though he knows the answer.
“girl in 5a.”
first bite in and ellie’s eyebrows raise because wow, that’s damn good.
jesse swipes a bite despite ellie’s protests and they polish off the matching plate that she puffs a laugh at because there’s a strawberry bandit painted in the center and in shoddy lettering says, “this is a strobbery”
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neighbor!ellie who surprises you by washing and returning the plate later that evening, muttering out a quick thanks before ducking back into her apartment without another word.
she leaves you blinking, staring at the space she was previously standing in a moment prior before you smile and shut the door because god ellie is so hot.
neighbor!ellie doesn’t expect it to become a routine, but more often than not, you’re knocking on her door at any given hour with snacks and she’s surprised when, a week and a half in, she’s had to do minimal grocery shopping because you’re always feeding her.
little does she know it’s because you’re looking forward to the brief moments that she’s unintentionally banging on your door to return your plates and dinnerware.
neighbor!ellie who’s a mechanic and brings your goodies to work sometimes and gets teased by the other mechanics because they think she has a girlfriend.
neighbor!ellie who after revealing she works in a garage starts opening up her front door to little reusable bags with cute notes and food puns if your schedule’s don’t line up.
neighbor!ellie whose schedule does end up frequently aligning with yours and you end up taking the same elevator down.
“morning, ellie,” you greet, smiling softly at her despite being up at the asscrack of dawn.
neighbor!ellie who yawns, takes the lunch you made for her gratefully and walks with you to the elevator.
“morning, 5a.”
neighbor!ellie who could get used to only seeing you in the fifth floor halls, however, after a few weeks, you stumble upon her in different circumstances.
you’re usually out on your balcony in the early mornings to water your plants and drink your tea or coffee, but today’s been exceptionally rough at work (you’re, surprise, a café owner) so you step out to take a deep breath late in the evening after your shift.
you definitely don’t expect to find ellie perched on a stool flicking the ash from a blunt over the railing.
“‘sup,” she hums, taking a long pull.
“hey,” you sigh.
“long day?” she humors you.
the two of you don’t really have much conversation because ellie’s always finding ways to cut interactions with you short.
and it’s not particularly because she doesn’t like you, but she’s caught the vibe you’re giving off and she doesn’t want to give you any unnecessary hope, especially after such a messy break up with the last girl.
(it’s definitely not because something about you makes her nervous).
so she doesn’t really expect you to spill, but one moment you’re debating whether or not you should divulge and the next you’re talking a mile a minute about how draining the job can be especially when employees end up being unreliable and the customers are impatient.
ellie’s gone through the entire joint and you still haven’t stopped talking and she doesn’t want to be mean, especially because you’ve been so nice to her since she’s moved in, but the high is wearing off because she’s too focused on finding an out of the one-sided conversation.
“you should come by,” you say, once you’re done babbling. “to the café, i mean. bring your friends, i’ll stay open a little later for you guys.”
that catches ellie’s attention after she’d zoned out.
“i— you don’t have to do that,” she says. “and i mean, we’re all pretty busy and—”
“no, no!” you say sweetly. “i insist! i wanna test out a few new seasonal recipes and i’d love some opinions!”
ellie’s wracking her brain, but you’re looking at her so hopefully and you look too cute with a few strands of hair falling from your updo. she really doesn’t want to give in, so she gives a lukewarm response instead.
“i’ll, uh, get back to you, i guess.”
you’re grinning.
“try to clear saturday night!” you tell her. “sometime around 9:30!”
ellie opens her mouth to give one last protest, but you’re standing from where you’d been leaning against the railing.
“it’ll be fun!” you tell her. “night, ellie!”
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neighbor!ellie who really doesn’t want to go because she feels like it’ll only add fuel to the fire.
the beginning of the week rolls around and you decide that this’ll be the week you’ll finally ask ellie out.
you figure that ellie’s just really quiet, isn’t the one to really put herself out there, so you wanna take initiative.
you’re thinking of all the different recipes you could try because you really wanna wow her and her friends.
little does ellie know that you’re lowkey agonizing over saturday and it’s all you can think about: what you’ll wear, what pairings you want to present, how you’ll decorate the cafe.
meanwhile, ellie’s trying to find a way out of it and jesse’s not any help because he keeps teasing her about how she must be broken for not wanting her hot neighbor who has a glaringly obvious crush on her.
everyone on the whole floor, possibly even the whole building knows. hell, even the doorman knows (and it’s definitely not because you stop to chat with him frequently when you walk your little beagle, apple, and ellie becomes a frequent topic of conversation).
neighbor!ellie who starts avoiding you because she fears that her being receptive to your kindness is giving you the wrong idea (definitely not because you’re growing on her and you’re becoming a part of her daily routine).
neighbor!ellie who sees you twice the entire week, doesn’t answer the door when you knock, stuffs your cute little post-its about saturday somewhere in the back of her junk drawer, smokes her blunts on the roof to avoid running into on the balcony.
neighbor!ellie who spends most of her time at the garage with jesse and her coworkers in efforts to get home after you do.
you figure that maybe she is really busy and you shouldn’t have been so pushy about the tasting, but you’ve grown to really like her and you can’t give this up without officially giving it a shot.
neighbor!ellie who ducks out of her apartment when she knows you’re out on saturday and leaves her lights off, so you’ll know she isn’t home.
neighbor!ellie who spends the day with jesse and his girl and gets invited to a kickback on the otherside of town.
neighbor!ellie who’s about two joints in and a couple shots out, so she’s crossed by nine and you completely slip her mind.
you’re on the other side of town, about a block from your apartment, waiting in the cafe for ellie.
you made such a pretty spread of lavender matcha cookies and lemon muffins. used your special espresso roast to brew a delicious batch of coffee to make a few lattes.
you’d even bought flowers from next door, decorated the table and light a few candles.
it’s 9:45 and you think that she’s gonna be late, but time’s passing and the pastries are going stale, the coffee going lukewarm.
it’s 10:30 when you start losing hope.
probably 11:30 when you blow out the candles, box up the treats and throw the espresso in the cooler for some iced coffee tomorrow morning.
you should’ve seen it coming, really. she did say that her and her friends were typically busy. and she hadn’t officially confirmed it with you either so you were being rather presumptuous anyways.
you decide that maybe you’ll just drop them by her place tomorrow and ask her to lunch!
it’s about midnight when you walk up the sidewalk and see that her LEDs are on in her room. it vaguely smells like weed so you figure she’d been smoking a little.
you don’t wanna bother her so late at night so you enter your own apartment, set the box on the kitchen island before padding into your room to get ready for bed.
you should’ve seen it coming, ellie standing you up, but what you don’t see coming, or hear, for that matter, are the muffled moans through the paper thin walls.
you’d been used to hearing ellie cuss at her video games, heard her getting better at playing the guitar, bickering with jesse over who got to be who during smash bros, but this was new.
you’d never heard the voice before, pitched and whiny.
your cheeks warm because whatever ellie’s doing must be good. you can’t even find it in yourself to be relieved that ellie was interested in girls. you’d initially been scared that maybe you were reading into it all wrong.
regardless, obviously you’d read everything way way wrong because ellie’s mouth is filthy and there’s no misconstruing the fact that she’s fucking someone six ways to sunday and you can hear every gory detail.
your stomach is churning because it’s been weeks and you couldn’t even get ellie outside the fifth floor’s hallway.
it’s obvious they’re thoroughly enjoying themselves and the hurt and envy that kindles is an ugly sight to see.
you end up sleeping in the living room that night.
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neighbor!ellie who chases the girl out the following morning after a nasty hangover and finally coming to terms with the fact that she’d brought someone home last night.
neighbor!ellie whose stomach drops to her ass when someone knocks on the door a few minutes later and she thinks it’s you, but it ends up being jesse.
“jesus, did 5a do that?” he asks, referring to your apartment number in regards to the fresh hickies blooming up the column of ellie’s throat.
“god no,” ellie says. “how many times do i have to tell you, that’s never happening.”
neighbor!ellie who would never tell a soul that she’d been imagining a certain someone the night prior.
neighbor!ellie who doesn’t want to think of anything more than being your neighbor because she’s locked in this lease for the next two years and she’d prefer to not shit where she sleeps.
(yeah, that’s totally it).
“dude why not? she’s obviously so down bad for you,” jesse chuckles, pushing past ellie.
she huffs a breath, defensive.
“god, i don’t know how she isn’t embarrassed, it’s fuckin’ pathetic.”
oh—
you’d heard jesse’s voice, then ellie’s, and figured you could give her the pastries you worked so hard on last night.
you’d always thought that ellie was just naturally aloof, kept to herself often, but last night was the coffin and this morning was the nail.
in the stillness of your apartment, jesse and ellie’s voice carries through the thin walls.
“i mean, you could just fuck her a couple of times, get it out of your system?”
“god, look at her, there’s not a casual bone in her body.”
“you can’t run away from her forever, yknow?”
neighbor!ellie who thinks to herself that she’ll try anyways.
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neighbor!ellie who doesn’t have to try, because you become an enigma after that.
it’s the middle of the week and she hasn’t had to even try avoiding you once.
you haven’t knocked on her door since the week prior and it makes her brows furrow.
neighbor!ellie who starts feeling bad for standing you up, but feels infinitely worse when she goes to dump some of her trash and finds the carton of pastries you’d baked.
they have your café’s name emblazoned on the logo and she vaguely remembers you chattering about trying lavender in one of your recipes.
she sees the purple food coloring and her heart sinks because why are they in the trash? :(
realizes that she’s fucked up and that maybe she should just be completely transparent with you.
neighbor!ellie who hesitantly knocks on your door and waits patiently for you to answer.
hears shuffling on the other side, but you don’t open up.
neighbor!ellie who tries to convince herself that you’re just busy! work is stressful right now and you’re keeping to yourself.
but you two end up bumping into each other on the elevator (she’d been lurking), and you give her a curt greeting because you’re polite and you realize that ellie doesn’t owe you anything.
“apple’s got a haircut,” she observes, leaning down to pet the pup.
“yeah,” you hum.
“she looks cute,” ellie compliments.
“thanks.”
neighbor!ellie who’s not used to you icing her out, so she takes the leap.
“hey, i wanted to apologize…” she trails off. “about saturday. i shouldn’t have flaked.”
“s’okay,” you say simply, watching as the numbers painfully descend. “you were busy.”
a blanket of silence.
“i’m sure the pastries were great,” ellie tries again. “we could always—”
the elevator dings and the doors part.
“have a good day, ellie,” you say softly, tugging apple by the leash to leave the lift.
neighbor!ellie who swears she hears you sniffling on the other side of the wall later that night, but tries to convince herself that you’ve just got allergies.
neighbor!ellie who thinks of every excuse in the book to try and talk to you, but she ends up freezing because fuck, have you always been this pretty?
neighbor!ellie who buys a succulent and puts it on her balcony. she tries to catch you in the mornings when you’re watering your plants, but it seems like your schedules just don’t align anymore.
neighbor!ellie is frustrated as fuck because she’d been avoiding getting attached, but you don’t knock on her door to deliver snacks or talk her ear off anymore and it drives her absolutely nuts.
neighbor!ellie who gets teased infinitely more at work because her coworkers are now convinced that there’s ‘trouble in paradise’.
“jesus christ, you’re actually pathetic,” jesse rolls his eyes over breakfast one weekend.
“dude, she just…” ellie lets out a frustrated sigh. “i just—”
“you miss her,” he fills in.
ellie turns red.
“fuck you, i don’t—”
“it’s okay to admit it, yknow?” he says. “she’s a lot different from your exes. she’s genuinely sweet, in it because she really likes you.”
ellie swallows, lips pursing.
“you’re soft around her,” jesse observes. “you think that if you give in, she’s gonna uncover parts of you you don’t even let me or joel see.”
“fuck you—”
“for someone who likes bitches you—”
ellie groans.
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neighbor!ellie who goes home and rolls a joint because this limbo is stressing her out.
and FINALLY! you’re watering your plants on your balcony when she slides the patio door open and slinks outside.
you don’t say anything to her, just continue watering.
she slumps in her folding lawn chair, kicking her feet up on the railing to feign nonchalance, but you haven’t blinked an eye at her and she’s annoyed.
“been doing alright?” she asks finally.
you freeze for the briefest of moments before glancing at her.
you’ve got bags under your eyes and your lips are pursed and ellie’s heart squeezes.
“yeah,” you answer simply. “fine.”
ellie hums.
“how’s work?”
“same old,” you say, turning your back to her to tend to the plants housed on the other side.
neighbor!ellie who doesn’t know what to say. who’s so used to trying to break conversation, not make them.
neighbor!ellie who fidgets because you’re making her nervous. you’re usually so sweet and smiley, but this side of you makes her gut churn.
neighbor!ellie who bites the bullet.
“i’m…i’m off on sunday…” she says, scratching the back of her neck. “if you wanted to— i dunno.”
your back straightens and she thinks you’re gonna bite, but you glance at the sidewalk below and shake your head.
“you don’t have to pretend, you know?” you say softly.
it’s like a punch in the chest and ellie’s scrambling.
“no! it’s—” she realizes she’s shouting. “it’s not like that, i—”
“i’m a big girl, ellie,” you tell her, that stupid little strawberry-shaped spray bottle squeezed tight in your hand. “if i was annoying, you could have just said that.”
and god she feels so fucking awful because this entire time, you’d just been trying to be nice to her. it was a harmless crush and—
“i don’t think you’re annoying,” she argues weakly. “can you…can you look at me, please?”
your head tilts up and ellie realizes that you’re trying to stop yourself from crying.
“god, i really am pathetic,” is your watery whisper.
ellie’s crossing the balcony, fully ready to climb over the railing onto your patio, but you’re quickly dashing away the tears and throwing the sliding door open.
“goodnight,” you tell her, and you’re sealing her out in the humid air.
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neighbor!ellie who’s in knots because living next to someone she used to see everyday fucking sucks now that all the two of you are reduced to is straining extra hard to hear your shuffling from the other side of the walls.
neighbor!ellie who stands in front of your door sometimes, wanting to knock, but feeling like she doesn’t deserve closure with you because it’s all her fault.
neighbor!ellie who realizes that the very awkwardness and discomfort she was avoiding to begin with could’ve been avoidable had she just been up front with you.
you were sweet and you were understanding…mature. you would’ve probably taken better to honesty than ellie blowing you off and lowkey being an ass to you.
neighbor!ellie being scolded by jesse after a couple of days pass because he’s beating her ass at smash bros without even trying and it’s hurting his ego.
“are you seriously gonna keep moping over 5a?” he asks after the fourth round won.
“i’m not moping,” ellie grumbles.
“oh c’mon dude,” jesse moans in annoyance. “you and 5a have this dad with four kids who doesn’t want a puppy but ends up loving the shit out of the—”
“i do not love her,” ellie barks.
jesse smirks.
“that’s all you took from that, ellie, seriously?” jesse scoffs.
“i mean, it’s not like there’s much that can be done, anyways,” ellie grunts, tossing the video game controller onto the coffee table’s surface. “she fuckin’ hates me and i don’t blame her.”
“5a does not hate you,” jesse sighs. “her feelings are just hurt, but you can fix it.”
“and how’s that?” ellie crosses her arms over her chest.
“you’re a smart girl, you’ll figure it out.” jesse grabs the discarded controller from the coffee table and shoves it into ellie’s chest. “now put your all into this next round, i’m still gonna beat your ass.”
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neighbor!ellie who’s never felt more nervous in her life.
who’s standing a block away from the café you own with a little gift bag and a bouquet of flowers.
neighbor!ellie who’s used to effortless relationships and casual situationships.
neighbor!ellie who’s scared shitless that she’s making the wrong decision giving in like this, but maybe jesse’s right and you’re just what she needs.
neighbor!ellie whose hands shake the entire walk up to the café.
she sees you with your back turned towards the door, probably doing closing inventory or something of the like with the way you scribble quickly against a clipboard.
you look so in your element with your apron tied tight around the narrow of your waist and perhaps now’s not the appropriate time, but your work pants look exceptionally great spread over the—
“i’m sorry, but we’re closed for the evening,” your voice sounds when ellie opens the front door and the chime tinkles against the glass.
“i’ll make it quick,” ellie says quietly, paper wrap around the flowers crinkling as she shifts on her feet.
you whirl around with wide eyes, almost dropping the clipboard when you find your neighbor standing in the middle of your café.
she looks so good in a fitted brown button up rolled to the elbow to reveal the whorls of ink decorating her forearms and skinny jeans that are way too good at highlighting the muscles of her thighs.
“ellie, what are you doing here?” you ask, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
“i was, er, in the area?”
one of your eyebrows raise.
“well, is there something i can help you with?” you ask, eyeing the flowers and the giftbag in what ellie can only read as disdain.
it’s like the day you two first met all over again but the roles are reversed. her lips gape once, twice, then three times as she tries to find the words. but ellie’s never been good at talking about how she feels, at being vulnerable.
“i have to close up,” you prod, tone tired. “and whoever you’re visiting after this is probably waiting.”
the words after are a silent insinuation.
god knows i did.
you’re turning on your heel and ellie knows she’s losing you.
“i like you.” she says suddenly.
you freeze, fist tightening mercilessly around your clipboard.
“that’s not funny,” you say stonily. “you don’t have to make an ass out of me for having feelings for you, ellie. i get it, it’s hilarious that your dorky neighbor has a crush on you, but you don’t have to drag it. i’m—”
neighbor!ellie who’s always thought that you talk a tad too much and sets the gifts on the nearest table before crossing the distance between the two of you.
she’s towering over you and you’re looking up at her with furrowed brows as she pries the clipboard from your fingers and kisses you without another word.
“wait, wait,” you whisper, pulling away from her momentarily.
her lips chase yours, one hand splaying over the small of your back as the other cradles your chin.
“i’m sorry,” she says quietly. “i didn’t—”
“i don’t understand,” you admit. “you…you and your friend were—”
ellie shakes her head vehemently.
“i was being stupid,” she says quickly. “it’s—” she sighs. “it’s a long story.”
“but the night of the tasting,” you start. “you brought someone home…i heard you.”
ellie closes her eyes in defeat, rolls her lips as she presses her forehead against yours.
“it was a mistake, you have to believe me,” she pleads softly. “i was drunk out of my mind and high as hell and—”
she stops talking when she sees the expression on your face, notices the way your fingers hover.
“you have every right not to entertain this,” ellie swallows. “and i know i’ve been awful to you, but i…i really like you 5a.”
your head tilts down and ellie’s leaning forward in an effort to keep the eye contact.
“i’m not good at stuff like this,” she confesses. “obviously.”
you breathe out an involuntary laugh.
“but you’re different, really different,” ellie says. “and you make me feel so fuckin’ weird—”
you flinch.
“a good weird!” she assuages. “it’s good. and i really wanna try things with you if you’ll let me.”
you look hesitant, but ellie’s hopeful and you’ve always been a sucker for green eyes.
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18+ BONUS
neighbor!ellie really wanted to take things slow with you after officially winning you over, but she can’t really help herself.
she takes you out a week after your heart-to-heart in your café, a nice restaurant you’d chattered about during your elevator rides to the lobby, and she’d been so close to making it through dinner and keeping it appropriate, but the dessert the two of you ordered had strawberries.
needless to say, when you’d taken a bite into the candied fruit and the juice curved down your jaw and slithered between your cleavage, ellie threw a wad of bills onto the table top and dragged you out of the restaurant.
didn’t make it far, ended up at the edge of the parking lot in the back seat of her car with two of her fingers knuckles deep in your heat while she swallowed your moans whole.
neighbor!ellie who takes you to hers after you cum twice and she tastes you for the first time.
“fuck, angel,” she whispers against your clit. “pussy’s too good.”
the sight is a devastating one, your skirt bunched around your waist and your top discarded somewhere on her bedroom floor.
one of your hands bunches her sheets in your fist, the other threaded through her brown hair as she eats you out like she’s absolutely starved.
“that’s it, princess,” she eggs you on, stuffing her fingers and curling against the walls of your spongy cunt. her tongue is sloppy against your little bud and your dulcet moans are buttery soft, absolute music to her ears.
that night seems to be the straw that breaks the camel’s back because she can’t get enough of you.
especially not when you wear that red and white gingham sundress you’d worn the second time the two of you met.
neighbor!ellie who spends so much time in your apartment now, likes to especially when you’re baking because you wear that stupidly tiny dress in your stupidly tiny kitchen and it takes every ounce of self control to keep her kisses on your exposed shoulders appropriate.
you start kneading the dough and she can’t keep her hands to herself, hooking her jaw into the crook of your neck as her fingers dance under the hem of your dress and ghosts the seam of your thighs.
“y’look so pretty,” ellie hums, tongue darting to lave at the juncture of your jaw and your neck.
“wait, ah!” fingertips trace over your mound and a semi-giddy, semi-disbelieving laugh rumbles from ellie’s chest when she finds you aren’t wearing any panties.
“you’re a dirty girl, angel,” she bites, one arm securing around your waist, the other toying with the slick coating your inner thighs. “what happened to getting work done?”
all you manage is a breathy cry when ellie skips the formalities and taps your clit roughly.
“el—ellie!” you whimper, one of your flour dusted hands wrapping around her wrist as your back arches and your ass presses into her hips.
your body stutters when you feel something nestle between the pert cheeks of your ass.
you throw a surprised look over your shoulder and ellie’s already grinning lazily at you as she continues kissing all over you.
“surprise,” she whispers.
neighbor!ellie who’s so gone. who still constantly gets teased by jesse and her coworkers. who wasn’t willing to admit it at first, but wants absolutely everything to do with you.
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neng © 2023
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thesmileykate · 5 months
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one of the most distinct attributes of everlark's relationship throughout the three books is the uncertainty of their feelings. and a difficulty admitting that katniss loves peeta. 
but it is so funny because obviously, katniss loves peeta. she risks her life for him (thg, 286). she dreams about him being happy and safe with his child (cf, 101). she becomes debilitated when he is being tortured (mj, 141). and when she thinks that he has stopped loving her, she is so heartbroken that she has a death wish (mj, 171).
but throughout all of these occurrences, katniss can not physically put into words that she loves peeta (mj, 198). she will imply it in her subconscious (mj, 38; mj, 131; mj, 141). but she will never say it aloud. it is almost like katniss is trying to keep it safe in her heart. 
like if she never vocalizes how much she is in love with peeta, it will not fully be true. right?
and it will not be recognized by others as a weakness that could be used to exploit her. because that is all love could ever be in a world like panem. a weakness for people in power to exploit.
but it doesn't matter in the end. all of these efforts to not acknowledge that she loves peeta.
because snow recognizes it (mj, 135). and by knowing that katniss is in love with peeta, he truly does have the one weapon that will break her beyond repair.
and i guess it is so interesting. that katniss never actively conceptualizes her love for peeta until the final chapter of mockingjay. because there is one character that is very good at admitting their love for their so-called lover. 
yep, you guessed it. coriolanus snow. 
because when snow becomes enchanted by lucy gray, he is the first person to recognize that he might be in love with her (tbosas, 324). and that she might be in love with him (tbosas, 196) and, when people recognize that snow fell in love with lucy gray, he is quick to agree with them (tbosas, 344). and he is sure of her love for him (tbosas, 483). i mean, she said it in a song directed toward him. it must be true, right? 
even when he is moments from turning on her, he still is very vocal and confident in their mutual love for each other (tbosas, 501). and even after snow possibly killed lucy gray to save his own skin, he still looks back on their relationship and is sure that he loved her (tbosas, 518). because the love he felt for lucy gray made him weak, and he must never be vulnerable like that again. 
so, through it all, snow was very sure of his love for lucy gray. but it is so interesting because his love was so shallow. shallow enough that he was ready to turn on her the second that his prospects for social mobility and power became feasible. the moment that she was considered a threat to his political and social survival. his love, the one that he was so sure of, was not enough to keep him from killing her.
but compare that to our favorite star-crossed lovers. to the ones who can't even verbally admit they love each other because of the cruel world that they live in. the ones who, despite perceiving the other person as a threat to their survival, refuse to allow the other person to die. the ones who returned to their desecrated home, hand-in-hand as they take on their world as they always have. together.
because, in the end, katniss and peeta did not need to verbalize their love. it was well-documented in every sacrifice made to ensure the other's protection. it was written between every line as katniss let it slip through her narrative. the ones that clearly point out that, yes, she really did love him. and it was embedded into every selfless act that seemed to flow from the hearts of both of our precious lovers.
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dulaglutide · 11 months
Note
Hello! Can I request some scenarios with yandere! Uppermoons (+ Hantengu’s clones)(separate) where reader who’s well behaved and asks them if she can take a walk by herself outside? The demons think she’s planning an escape so they secretly stalk her only to she her just gathering flowers to decorate the hideout/infinity castle with. (Maybe she notices them and just says; “Pretty aren’t they?” Idk-) I apologize if this is too many characters!
Yandere! Uppermoons x behaved fem reader!
(I did all of the uppermoons except for Daki, Gyutaro, and Gyokko because I don’t know how to write them) (Sorry if some of them don’t sound that yandere like) Warnings: swearing, sexual themes (Karaku), one mention of a cult (Douma), one mention of the words “good girl” (Karaku)
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Kokushibo
He will not like this idea one bit
Since your so well behaved though he will let you go outside just to see if he can still trust you
When you go a little far he will watch you from afar seeing if you try to run
But when he sees you playing in and looking at flowers he is in shock
Why don’t you try to run? Maybe you do really love him? What if it’s a trick?
All of those possibilities were going through his head
But when you saw him and waved with the biggest smile on your face he just melted on the inside
He really chose the right person
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Douma
He will say yes to see if you end up playing a game of cat and mouse
He loves chasing you then punishing you after
But he hasn’t needed to punish you in so long due to your well behavior
He wants to see if it was a trick the whole time so he takes you outside holding your hand and tells you not to go far
Well……you went a little far but you made sure you could get back and he could find you
He would be following you the whole time waiting until he can catch you and scare you
But when he hears you giggling at a rabbit you found he’s in awe
When you went back the way you came and back to the cult house he was so proud
Now you get to go outside more sue to how loyal you proved you are
Now you can escape much easier
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Akaza
In that moment he almost snapped at you saying no once you asked but he stopped himself
This would be a good time to test your loyalty
Wouldn’t it?
He let you go outside and saw how happy you were to be in the out doors finally after so many years
He really didn’t want you to be alone due to the fact you might run and he didn’t want to deal with that today
But he left you alone
He was really watching you from a tree but what’s the difference
Once you started making a flower crown he was surprised and proud at the same time
You knew he was in the tree so you looked at him in the eyes, smiled, and said “thank you”
He knew he could trust you more now
Get out of there
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Sekido
He will look at you like you have lost your fucking mind
But he ends up letting you go outside because he felt like it
You were well behaved and listened to everything he said so he had a little bit of hope that you wouldn’t run away because he doesn’t wanna deal with that shit
He will follow you and if you start to run away you will get electrocuted and back to square one when you were first kidnapped
When you stop walking and sit by a tree and just look up at the stars he’s surprised but thankful omg he isn’t angry for once
You ended up falling asleep on the tree so he picked you up and carried you back home
You just earned more of his trust
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Karaku
He won’t be surprised that you wanted to go outside
Since you have been a good girl he will allow you to go outside and have fun
He warned you that if you ran off to far that there would be punishments
He followed you of course but you didn’t know he was there
You were playing in a flower field just dancing with the smile he loved so much
He was thinking about how much he wanted to fuck you those flowers loves you
Hearing your happy voice made him happy so now it is a daily routine for him to let you go outside (at night of course we can’t have you running away now)
He fucked you in the flowers because he couldn’t resist
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Aizetsu
He would be very scared to let you go outside
But you have been very sweet and kind to him for a while now after your kidnapping
He let you go in the backyard of the little house in the woods and watched you from the window
You were sitting there staring at the stars kicking you feet back and forth
You knew he was watching you from the window so you waved your hand for him to come outside
He was slightly happy that you were asking him to do such a thing
He was so happy with how obedient you have become
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Urogi (I am obsessed with his voice)
Urogi already takes you outside to fly with him
He will always hold you close so you can’t move much
But one night you wanted to go alone….
Urogi didn’t like that much
He thought you were going to try to leave him
He allowed you to only because of how good you have been lately
He followed you though making sure you pulled no tricks
He was very upset and mad that you wanted to go alone
He became more possessive because of that
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lorarri · 4 months
Text
꒰꒰ ‧₊˚𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒 ─ 𝐂𝐋𝟏𝟔 ˚₊· ꒱꒱
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─ summary . . . ❨ everyone's fav couple has broken up but not to fear nothing brings people back together more than vegas ❩ ─ pairing . . . ❨ charles leclerc x fem! nicks! singer! reader ❩ ─ genre . . . ❨ social media file ❩ ─ author note . . . . ❨ I'm posting this a pretending that charles won the gp cuz I swear to god I was in tear but good for him that he took p2 from checo anyway please enjoy! ❩
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❨ taglist | masterlist ❩
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yourinstagram
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liked by charles_leclerc maxverstappen1 198,682,543 others
yourinstagram Allow me to introduce...1989 (my version) this album is like my child each and every song holds a special place in my heart and I hope you guys love this album just as much as I do - Y/N
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user 🕯 my manifesting came true 🕯
user I just know this whole ass album is about charles
user MOTHER IS BACKKKKK ‼️‼️
user i’m but a spec on your shoes 🧎🏽‍♀️
user charles liked 🙁
user ate. devoured. broke the plate.
user love how the whole grid still religiously likes Y/N's posts
user LETS GO YES OMGGGGG
user THIS ALBUM IS ABT TO BE 🔥🔥
user mother has come to save us 😮‍💨🙏🏻
user finally something that helps me forget my parents are broken up
user i literally screamed at work
user THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU
user QUEEN OF MUSICCCCCC 🗣
user me 🫱🏽‍🫲🏾 Y/N
user okay I'm happy...but these songs aren't gonna hit the same knowing that her and Charles aren't together
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YOUTUBE CLIPS → 2023 C² CHALLENGE | MUSIC CHALLENGE WITH CHARLES LECLERC AND CARLOS SAINZ
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yourinstagram . 24hrs ago
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seen by maxverstappen1 lewishamilton 51,326,972 others
charles_leclerc
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liked by yourinstagram pierregasly 198,278,394 others
charles_leclerc no regrets yourinstagram.
comments have been disabled
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─ requested by . . .
anon ─ Hi I love your stories! I wanted to ask if you could do one where y/n and Charles Leclerc had been dating for really really long and fans absolutely loved them and then the broke up but Charles still constantly mentioned her in interviews and stuff but they eventually came back as a couple and the fans went absolutely crazy
anon ─ Hey! loved the new fic with nepo baby! would love to see one with a nepo baby of an iconic woman? maybe stevie nicks? but the reader has an iconic career of her own (taylor swift discography) Have a great day!! 🫶🏼
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imtryingbuck · 5 months
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Told you I’ll always come back
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~ gif not mine credit to owner ~
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Summary: 4 years ago Y/n was Bucky’s fiancé and the team thought she betrayed them
Word count: 7,772
Warnings: angst. reader can teleport ~sorta~. reader also rolls her eyes like a trillion times. major character death. swearing. pregnancy. small mention of child birth. mention of cheating. tiny mention of sexual assault. mention of Sharon (I really need to get off the sharon-hate train) guns. gunshot wounds. sad all around
Translation: голубица - dove (if wrong please let me know)
Masterlist
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When Fury rang her begging asking for her to come back for one final mission, she agreed with a condition, she’d bring her old team with her. Fury accepted.
That had been two weeks ago.
Landing back in New York brought back many memories, some good - some bad and some she wish she couldn’t remember.
“Hi can you take me to Avengers Tower please?” Getting into the cab she tried desperately to calm down her nerves.
The sky was a visual of her emotions.
Dull.
Standing outside the huge impressive building she felt like she was going to be sick. It’s been four years since she was last here.
“Hi I have an appointment with Director Fury at 12” 
“That’s fine, take a seat and I’ll let him know you’ve arrived”
“Thank you” She didn’t listen to Haley the receptionist, choosing to stand instead.
Fury came down not three minutes later with a small smile on his face. “I’ve missed you - no touching I know”
“Let’s get this over with Nick. Sooner the better”
The man knew not to try and annoy her anymore so he lead her to the elevators, going up.
Her stomach squeezed tight at the sight of her former team huddled on one side of the table, with their back to her.
“Take a seat” Fury whispered in her ear.
The moment that they saw her they were already shouting out their protests, she ignored them and listened to Fury by taking a seat to sit in.
“Calm down everyone. Now!” Fury slams his hand on the table causing everyone to fall silent. “Now, Y/n has agreed to help us with a missi-“
“We won’t work with her Fury.” Steve interrupts.
“You have no other option. No one else will or can help other then Y/n”
“We’ll just do it ourselves” Tony shrugs.
“No. This is happening, if none of you can play nice then you’ll be sacked.”
“You can’t sack us” Steve says with a scoff.
“I can and I will. Now Y/n I sent you over the details of what we’re up against, did you read it?”
“Yes”
“Your team, have you briefed them on everything?”
“Yes Fury, and yes they’re happy to help”. She rolls her eyes at Tony who mocks what she had just said.
“You said in the email that you’ve already paired people up from both teams, do you want to share it?” Like her Fury completely ignores Tony’s childish behaviour.
Sliding over a piece of paper towards her former boss and friend she continues to talk “When you see them in training and you don’t agree with my decision feel free to change it-”
“Oh we will do sweetheart”
Once again ignoring Tony “You said that my team will be allowed to stay here, in the tower?”
“Yeah Peppers done your rooms up herself, you should be grateful”
Turning her head towards the man she saw as a father figure not that long ago “When I see her I’ll give her my thanks.” Sighing she addressed the rest “You have a problem with me, so you will take it out on me. Not my team, but me. Do not think for one second that just because of our history together you can treat my guys like shit. They’re good, hardworking fighters. Fury we have two weeks to train for this mission and if I find out my team isn’t being respected or treated fairly I will not hesitate to pull them and myself out, is that understood?”
Fury’s eyebrow raise as he nods “I completely understand Y/n, welcome home”.
“My team will be here tomorrow at 12, I’ll see you then”.
“Don’t you want to know what room you’re going to be in?” Fury asked.
“No, I’m not staying here.”
“Where?”
“Not here. See you tomorrow Fury”.
Making a beeline for the elevator she takes her leave, it’s once she’s outside of the building she gasps for air.
After her shower and nighttime routine she climbs into bed, her head was throbbing but all she was hoping for was a good night sleep.
It didn’t happen.
“Tony splash me with water one more time you’ll regret it!” She laughs.
“What are you going to do huh?”
“I’ll-I’ll smash up all your vinyl albums”
“Okay okay I’ll stop”
•••
“Steve wait up I’ve only got little legs”
“Sorry.”
“Can’t you just carry me?”
“Nope, come on we’re nearly there.”
•••
“Y/n will you marry me?”
“Yes, Bucky I’ll marry you”
•••
“Natty get your bum out of bed”
“Don’t want too”
“Okay, I’ll come and cuddle with you”
“Yess!”
•••
“Y/n it’s an emergency come quick”
“Sam what’s happening?”
“Come!”
She walked in on Tony fast asleep on Bucky’s shoulder.
•••
“Wand I love you, I’m gonna marry you instead of Bucky”
“Y/n/n your drunk”
“I know”
“Why you sad for?”
“I don’t know”
•••
“Bruce turn into Hulk so I can beat him up”
“Why do you want to beat him up?”
“Because… leave me alone”
•••
“Thor guess what?”
“What?”
“Your so beautiful and I hope you so much happiness”
“La-Lady Y/n,give me a hug”
•••
Opening the door, her heart broke at the sight of-
Gasping for breath, she sat up in bed. It’s been almost two years since she last had a dream turned nightmare about her former team.
The red numbers on the clock stated it was 4:33 in the morning, laying back down she grabbed the remote and turned on the telly, there was no way she was getting any more sleep now.
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Getting to the Tower a little bit earlier, she sat in her car waiting for her team to arrive. An hour later a text message popped up from her colleague and confidant stating they had arrived she got out of her car.
Greeting them all and introducing them to Fury who said to her.
“You could of come inside you know”
“I didn’t want to” Leaving him to sigh in response.
Introductions between both teams were done and it was straight onto business.
“So what powers do you lot have then?” Tony asks.
“None. We’re all human, Marley’s a witch though” Douglas your closest friend replied.
“Oh. So why are you here if you don’t have abilities?”
“We follow Y/n wherever she goes”
“Why? She’s a tra-“
“Tony enough” Fury interrupted. “Now on to business, the organisation going by The Lords have been on our radar for quite some time now, recently they’ve been getting more cocky” Fury turns around to face the screen, image after image of buildings up in flames, innocent people covered in blood, dead bodies littering the streets were shown to them. 
“We need to have them stopped. In just over two weeks they’ve planned to attack a government base, but we’re going to be taking the fight to them.”
“How?” Colleen - the woman who saved Y/n’s life ten years ago - asks.
“We’ve got their location-“
“Why don’t you just get them” Douglas nods his head to the team on the other side of the table “just to drop a bomb on the bad guys?”
“We need them alive so we can question them”
“Okay… but why all this man power?” Marco says.
“What is it with you lot always asking questions” Nat says with an eye roll.
Y/n sighed, looked at Fury “Marco has a point but I already know the answer, so I’ll be the one that fills him in. We should probably start the training, everyone knows what this missio-sorry I need to take this”. Getting up she answers her phone “Hi baby-“
Bucky hasn’t been able to take his eyes off of her from the moment she sat down. Her hair is so much shorter than it used to be, it suits her. A long jagged scar went across her cheek was new, he wondered how it happened. Seeing her sit there hands placed in her lap, her shoulders tensed up and a blank expression on her face makes him conflicted on his emotions towards the woman he was planning on spending the rest of his life with.
His heart tinged with sadness when he saw the small incrusted diamond ring with two small love hearts sitting on her finger, the finger his ring for her use to take up residence.
He wishes he could take her hand in his so he could rub his thumb over her knuckles, just like he use to whenever she was in that position as he knew it meant she was uncomfortable.
But he knew she didn’t have the right to his affection anymore not after she betr-
His thoughts are cut off as she stands, bringing her phone to her ear, greeting the person on the other end of the line with “Hi baby”.
A scowl made its way onto his face. Not that he had any right to do so.
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“How are you? And don’t say you’re okay because I know better love” Douglas’s rough Scottish accent comes from next to her.
“I’m… I’ll be fine Doug, the sooner we’re done with this the sooner everything will be okay”
“Yo-you don’t have to do this, me and the team will tak-“
“Don’t. Everything will be fine after I’ve done this Dougie, you and the guys will be fine.”
They sit in silence. Doug didn’t like the plan she was going through with but he’s known her for years and knows she isn’t going to change her mind.
After training with the Avengers Y/n left, despite Fury telling her to stay and have dinner with them. Douglas left straight after the awkwardness of dinner was done, and being the only person who knew where she was staying, he headed straight there.
She brought this house for her and Bucky to live in after they retired, which they both agreed would be just before they married.
The home was beautiful, four bedrooms with two bathrooms, a large living room, kitchen with a pantry off the side of it, dinning room, an office that she had already planned to turn into a man cave for him. Two car garage, backyard was huge with a beautiful willow tree - as soon as she saw it she knew she had to have the house.
Bucky never knew about the house, she wanted to surprise him. It never happened obviously, and with a heavy heart she rented the house out.
The previous renters contract was up a month before she got the phone call from Fury, and there was no way she was going to stay in the tower. So she went to the place she wanted to call home.
“Have you spoke to them?” Doug asked breaking the silence.
“Yeah, driving Fran up the wall”. She laughs causing him to join in.
“She loves them though” He chuckles.
Nodding with a soft smile, “You should get back it’s getting late, I’ll see you tomorrow”
“You’re right” Standing up he pulls her into a hug, kissing her forehead he whispers “Don’t push me away love, not now”
That night she had the same dream as the night before, waking up at the exact same time again.
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A week had been and gone, training was going good for both teams; apart for her. None of the Avengers held back, her body throbbed and ached after each session.
Today was the only day where Fury had to step in, seeing Y/n struggle against Wanda’s powers, he had to stop it.
Wanda had Y/n pinned against the wall and slowly dragging her up it, the whole room went quiet. The Avengers moved closer to the redhead whilst Y/n’s team moved closer to her.
“Mar-Marley don’t!” Y/n managed to rasp out to her friend. 
Marley though small was deadly, her powers being similar to that of Wanda’s “She’s crushing your chest!” She shot back.
“I-it’s ok-okay”
“Wanda put her down!” Fury demanded.
“No. She’s a traitor, she betrayed all of us”
“Wanda!” Fury started to get nervous for the woman being pinned to the wall.
When Wanda’s eyes shot towards Marley, Y/n grew scared. She didn’t want either one of them hurting each other. “Marl-Marley stop! T-that’s an or-order!”
“She’s hurting you. And she’s lying!”
“No she isn’t. She’s a traitor” Tony shouted.
“Admit it and I’ll let you go голубица” Wanda smiles.
Even with the pain of her chest being crushed it didn’t hurt nearly as much as the pet name slipping from her former best friends lips.
“Admit. It. Y/n.” Everyone aside from Wanda flinched at the sound of Y/n’s ribs breaking.
Y/n bit the inside of her cheek, hard enough to draw blood. She wasn’t going to give Wanda the satisfaction of seeing or hearing the pain she was going through. She held Wanda gaze, both women refusing to backdown.
“D-Doug…ge-get Marley out of h-here”.
She sees in the corner of her eye Douglas struggling to pull Marley with him. “If the little girl wants to play, let’s do it” Wanda says breaking eye contact with Y/n to look towards Marley.
“No! N-no don’t!”
“Admit it then Y/n, admit to your team that you’re nothing but a liar and a traitor” Wanda screams.
“It wasn’t her!” Fury shouted, taking in a shuddering breath afterwards.
“What?” Steve’s eyes bounce from Y/n to Fury.
“She wasn’t the one who betrayed us.”
“Liar!” Wanda screams again just as she brings Y/n’s body away from the wall, throwing her back into it.
“I’m not lying Maximoff! Now let her go!” Fury shouted.
“Sh-she betrayed u-us!” Y/n’s heart broke at the sight of the tears filling up in Wanda’s eyes.
“She didn’t lass.” Douglas says as he still struggles to gain somewhat of control over Marley. 
The hold on Y/n was released as she drops to the floor gasping for air. Her team run straight over to her as well as Fury who looks over at the other team with disappointment in his eyes.
“I-I’m okay” Y/n mumbles before succumbing to the darkness. 
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“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Dr Cho asks when she sees Y/n trying to get out of the bed.
“I need to le-leave”
“You’ve just had your breast bone fractured and several ribs broken Y/n. You need to rest”
“I’m leavi-“
“No you’re not love, you need to stay” Douglas speaks from the doorway.
“I-I need to speak to them, it’s six”
“You need rest soldier, come on I’ll even stay with you, it’ll be like old times ay?” He smiled softly at the woman he respected more than anyone.
“Bu-“
“No buts my sweet girl, back in bed now” He gives Helen a nod before climbing into the bed with Y/n. “Get some rest love, I’ve got you”.
The next day Y/n wakes up in an empty hospital bed. Removing the wires from her, she stands up and carefully puts her clothes back on.
She crept out of the room and down the corridor, knowing exactly where she needed to go.
Hearing the raised voices coming from the briefing room, she took in a deep breath before slowly exhaling.
“-your concern Scottie”
“It is when the witch tries to kill my friend”.
“Friend” Bucky scoffs.
“What’s that suppose to mean?”
“I see the way you look at her”
“Don’t be stu-“
“Doug stop.” Y/n says as she walks in.
“What are you doing here? Your meant to be resting”
“I’m fine”.
Marco pulls out a chair for her, gesturing for her to sit smiling at the woman who saved his life time after time.
“I’m going to say what I have to say then I’m leaving, don’t worry Nick my team will still help”
“What about you?”
“I’ll be there, can’t exactly back out of a deal now can I?” Fury’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion and Bucky noticed Douglas tensing at her words.
Sighing deeply, she closes her eyes “Sit or stand I don’t care but here’s the truth- I was the one that did betray you. I’m not sorry either”
“Y/n stop lying!” Fury says.
“…fine. It was Sharon.”
“That’s a lie!” Steve shouts.
“No it’s not. You see Steve, she was fucking you but she wanted your best friend. She wanted me out of the way, I didn’t even know that you lot were branding me as a traitor until Hydra found me several months later. Oh and I also killed Sharon”.
The Avengers sit there searching their memories from four years ago, and sure enough everything they were told was by Sharon.
“Wait what do you mean you killed her?” Steve asks.
“I put a round of bullets into her head, she was there with Hydra when they came knocking” She shrugged.
“But th-then that means you didn’t betray us?” Tony wheezes out.
“I’m many things but I’m loyal to a fault”
“I’m so-“
“Don’t. I don’t want to hear any apologies. Not from any of you. Fury I’m gonna go now, I’ll see you on the day of the mission.”
Leaving the room before anyone can say anything she heads back to the house.
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*Four years ago.*
The nausea was driving her insane, she was on her way back from a mission with a handful of SHIELD agents who could hear her gagging in the back of the quinjet. Nothing was happening for her though.
“Talk to Cho and see if it’s something you ate or something” Lucas said to her as she came and sat down.
“Yeah I might”
And she did just that, getting off the jet she headed straight to medical bay. Telling Helen all her symptoms the nurse tells her to undo her suit and lay on the bed.
“What the hell is that noise?”
Chuckling “That’s a heartbeat, wait no there’s two. Look-“
“What? How?…What?” She always wanted to be a mum but Bucky thought he couldn’t have children because of what Hydra did to him.
“Two strong hearts, you’re having twins Y/n congratulations darling” Helen beams.
It’s only as she was zipping her suit back up she noticed the small prodding bump. Smiling she walks through the corridors subtly touching her stomach as she goes, reaching the common room she sees her friends - her family.
“Hey, where’s Bucky?” She’s asks.
“He’s in your twos room” Steve says with a smile.
“Okay thanks” Reaching the door to hers and Bucky’s room she didn’t realise that the team had followed her, with a smirk on their faces.
Opening the door, her heart broke at the sight of Bucky’s bottom half covered by the quilt moving back and forth and Natasha underneath him with her arms around his neck.
Natasha was the first one to see her, with a smirk playing on her lips she taps Bucky’s shoulder making him look at the doorway. His face completely void of showing any resemblance of emotion.
The team honestly expected Y/n to say anything, something, but not a single word comes from her mouth.
Instead she vanishes into thin air. The only sound for them to hear was her engagement ring clinking off the floor.
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*Seven months after.*
Y/n did the most cliche of things, by moving to the middle of nowhere. She had a three bed cottage with acres of land.
It became her sanctuary. The one place she felt at peace, at home.
Most nights she didn’t sleep and if she did she was plagued by the images of Bucky in bed with Natasha. Tossing and turning throughout the night with silent tears streaming down her cheeks, the only thing that she had left in this world was her unborn babies and Roxy the fox that would come to see her every night.
At 8 months pregnant with the twins she was huge. She didn’t know what she was having, nor did she have a scan, which did sadden her. Luckily for her though the pregnancy was going smoothly. 
It was turning ten o’clock at night on a Thursday, she knew something was wrong when Roxy hadn’t showed up. The hairs on her arms stood to attention, Y/n could feel the air changing - becoming toxic.
“Little pig little pig I know you’re in there” A loud rough voice came from outside.
“Whatever you’re selling I’m not buying” She shouted back.
“Not selling anything sweetheart, you’ve got something that belongs to us.” The voice says again causing her to roll her eyes.
Creeping as much as she possibly could with an 8 month pregnancy bump towards the window leaving her to mutter out a quiet ‘fuck’ as she sees the two dozen men outside, armed and ready for a fight. Rolling her eyes once again at the symbol embroidered on their chest of the suits they wore.
Hydra.
She hated that she just couldn’t snap into thin air, more than ever right now. She had tried it a few times - like the time she ventured out in public to go to the store, and she was standing there in the middle of isle three when she had an accident. The most humiliating thing she ever endured. Trying so hard to disappear even as she tried to helped the young woman who worked there clean up her mess.
Even after she left the store without her things she walked as fast as she could to the beat up jeep she had, trying desperately to get it to work, nothing happened.
For weeks after that event she kept trying but always failed. It had only happened once and that was many years ago now, it was when she was shot in the leg. Her emotions were all over the place, she was only fourteen. It hit her that it was because of the twins she couldn-
“Come on Y/n you’ve got no where to run, you’ve got no one to help you, just co-come out”. A new, familiar voice was now heard.
Y/n squinted her eyes thinking of a way to not only protect her babies but the woman who had been her friend for years, the woman who she thought and believed had been abducted by Hydra and was being used to get her.
“Sharon? What are you doing here? Long time no see huh”
“Y/n they promised that they won’t hurt us, just come out”.
‘Think. Think. Oi don’t kick me right now. Come on and think’ repeating softly to herself as she looked around the room. Of course her home was littered with all sorts of weapons and ammunition but she didn’t want to be the first one to shoot just incase Sharon got caught in the crossfire.
“You’ve got five seconds to come out willingly before we start shooting. We don’t need you alive little pig just need that special little thing you stole from Hyd-“
Sharon’s safety wasn’t a priority anymore, not now that Hydra thinks her babies belonged to them. He gets cut off with a bullet in between his eyes.
“Let’s go boys” She shouts as bullets zoomed through the air one straight after the other.
Bullets tore their way all throughout her home, destroying everything she had built for herself and her babies. Holes littering one side of the home.
“No no no not that vas- goddamnit!” She mutters as her favourite vase smashes into tiny little pieces. “Now it’s personal”.
One by one the sound of heavy gunfire became more quieter, until there was only two guns firing.
She grimaces as a bullet skimmed her cheek, she readied herself to shoot again when a bullet was fired.
“Y-Y/n are you hit?” Sharon shouts.
“No, it took you long enough to help out Shaz”
“I’m coming in okay”
Y/n moved away from her position, moving towards the fireplace mantle to pick up a photo of her parents that had been hit when the door came open.
“How did they get you? Are you hurt?” Y/n says with her back to Sharon. “I’ve missed yo-“.
A gun clicking from behind her stopped her words from coming out. Sighing with an eye roll she continues her task of trying to get the glass out of the picture frame. “What are you doing Sharon?”
“What’s so important about you? Why does everyone always want you huh?”
“Hell if I know, nothing special about little ol’ me it’s quite annoying really”.
“What was Simon talking about?” Sharon questions.
“Who the hell is Simon?”
“The leader, the first one you killed”
“Oh him, I’m not sure. Didn’t he tell you when he abducted you?” Y/n could see a glimpse of her friend through the broken glass, gun ever so slightly shaking as her arm starts to tremble.
“They didn’t abduct me, I’ve been working with Hydra for over a three years now.”
It took her by surprise hearing that “Fair enough” is all she says.
“Yep, I told the Avengers that you turned rat and was betraying them and they all believed it”
“Silly twats, aren’t they?” Y/n chuckles.
“Turn around. Slowly and put your hands in the air” Sharon demanded.
“And wave them around like you just don’t care” Y/n sings, as she slowly turned around and raised her hands.
Sharon audibly gasped and stumbled backwards “Yo-you’re pregnant…”
“No shit Sherlock”
“Whose is it?”
“Bucky’s but don’t tell him it’s a secret” She winks.
“You bitch!” The blonde screams “you’ve taken my life!” She starts to pace back and forth, eyes bouncing from the gun to Y/n’s stomach.
“Not yet I haven’t…” Y/n whispers.
“I love him you know! But no he wanted you, you had him and I had to settle for Steve. And now, now you’re having the love of my life’s baby!”
Despite the situation she was in Y/n couldn’t stop the sharp tang in her heart at the sight of the tears gathering in her friends eyes. But just to be a bitch she corrected the blonde “Babies, plural”
“Y-you’re having twins?”
“Yep”
Her throat tightened as she sees Sharon’s finger squeezing on the trigger, both sets of eyes shot straight to the gun as it jams.
It all happened so fast, Y/n grabbed the gun and using the handle to smack Sharon in the face, causing the woman to fall on the floor screaming in pain. Y/n walked past her to leave her home when Sharon’s hand wrapped itself around her ankle and pulled her to the ground. Sharon was up first out of the pair and was straddling Y/n back, gripping her hair in a tight vice she raised Y/n’s head before smacking it down. Again and again and again.
Sharon finally gets up kicking Y/n’s side in the process. “I’m going to do the thing I should of done years ago, you ruined my life-“
The blonde gets cut off when Y/n kicks her legs out from underneath her, causing her to fall back down.
“You’re fucking crazy you know that Sharon, Jesus”. Ever so slowly she manages to get up, her hands going to her belly “All this for a man? You’ve really lost your bloody marbles Shaz!”
“It’s Bucky! I love him” Sharon screams.
“Yeah well so did I until I caught him fucking my best friend!” She screamed back.
The pain and confusion flashed over Sharon’s face “No, your lying”
“I’m not. God I wish I was, but nope caught him fucking Natasha”
“He wouldn’t do that to me!”
“You? He was engaged to me, you absolute weirdo. Sharon just stop alright, it’s over I’m done. You want him so badly have at him! I don’t, I don’t want to fight you anymore, so please get up off my floor, stop crying and leave.”
She watches as Sharon picks herself off the ground, who then stops as they both hear that one sound Y/n had been dreading.
Her waters splashing onto the floor.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me” She whispers to herself as she looks down at the sight.
With Y/n distracted she didn’t see Sharon standing fully or her running towards her.
The punch to her stomach caused her to stumble backwards, the punch to her cheek that had been sliced open by the bullet from earlier caused her to flinch. The pain in her abdomen intensified as she sees Sharon bending down to grab the gun.
“Told you I was going to end th-“ Sharon says just before she’s cut off with a bullet in between her eyes.
Whether it was because of the pain to her aching body or at the fact she was just made to kill someone she thought was a good friend, her finger wouldn’t stop pulling on the trigger.
Even after the gun kept clicking.
“Stupid bitch you could have just left but no you had to be a cunt” Y/n shouts at the dead body laying in her living room.
Dropping the gun, her hand went in between her thighs, bringing her hand back up her heart dropped at the sight of blood.
Slowly walking to find her phone she dialled the number of the one person she trusted more than anyone in this world.
“Hi love, we’ll b-“
“Doug I-I need you. Babies are comi-“ She cuts herself off when a scream tears its way out.
“We’re on our way!”
“H-hurry.” She says just as she drops the phone as she slides down to the floor.
Doug and Fran arrived as fast as they humanly could. Both of their hearts dropped to the pit of their stomachs when they saw all the bodies lying in her front yard.
Running inside they see the body of a blonde and Y/n, legs open as she births her baby.
“Love we’re here, Doug get towels quickly” Fran’s frantic yet soft voice says.
“I-it’s the second one” and that’s when the ringing of adrenaline fades and was replaced by a cry, when they look to the side they see the tiny body of baby number one.
Neither Fran or Doug moved as they watched their friend deliver her second baby. Neither one of them could wrap their heads around the strength Y/n showed time and time again.
It shouldn’t have surprised them really.
“T-this one’s a girl, what about the other one” Y/n asked, voiced laced with tiredness.
“A boy, he’s a beautiful baby boy” Fran smiles as she picks the still crying baby up, handing him over to his momma.
“Logan-Douglas and Harlow-Francesca” Y/n’s eyes move from her babies to the couple in front of her.
“R-really love? You want to name them after us?” Doug asks with tears in his eyes.
“Of course, you’re their godparents after all”
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*two months before Fury rings her*
Y/n makes her way through the busy streets with her head down. She can’t stop the eye roll when she notices the two agents following her.
Slowing her pace she waited for the inevitable to happen.
As the agents got behind her a black van comes skidding past, the sliding door comes open, a sack is placed over her head and she’s pushed in.
“Do you guys want me to act scared or what?”
“Shut up”.
“Feisty”
After a while the van comes to a stop and she’s all but dragged out of it.
When the sack was removed her eyes dart around, rolling her eyes for the hundredth time, she’s in an abandoned warehouse.
“Ah Ross, so good to see you. You know if you wanted to see me so badly you could have just called” She smiles at the man.
“Wanted to surprise you Y/n”
“Oh yeah no I noticed, I was so surprised I didn’t see it coming…notice the sarcasm?”. Her head tilts to the side at the sound of footsteps “Hi Fury”
The man gives her a curt nod “Y/n”
“Wanna tell me why I’m here?”
“We have proof that you weren’t the rat, you can come back to SHIE-“
“Absolutely not. I’m fine in doing what I’m doing now thanks, can I go?”
“Y/n you’re a mercenary-“
“It pays the bills” She shrugs.
Fury shakes his head at Ross when he tries to continue, “You didn’t seem so surprised when he mentioned a rat, why?”
“Bit slow aren’t you? Let me guess the one that betrayed you was…Sharon? Yep I knew, um three years ago? Yeah something like that”
“Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Didn’t think you lot deserved the truth so, can I now go?”
“We need to tell the Aveng-“ 
“No. Don’t, look let’s just keep everyone thinking I turned rat okay? It’s the best for everyone.”
Both men look to each other before slowly nodding. “It’s so great to see you Y/n” Fury says as he tries to pull her into a hug.
Stepping back she puts her hands up “I don’t like being touched nowadays, so no touching but it’s great to see you too Nicky”
“I told you not to call me that. See you” He chuckles and making his exit.
“We need to talk Y/n” Ross sighs once the pair are alone.
“About?”
“Your old team” 
Her heart stops.
“W-what about them?” She knows exactly what it’s about.
Rubbing his hand over his face, he looks at her with sympathetic eyes. “The officials want you all to pay for what happened that night”.
“We was set up Ross! Right from the get go, it was all a fucking set up!”
“I know, Y/n I know. I tried telling them but they won’t listen to me” He speaks earnestly.
“Why aren’t they going after John?”
John Cooper, a name she hasn’t heard or spoke of or thought of for over ten years now. He was Y/n’s handler for a year, he made her go out and find people who was at the top of their game. She didn’t know why but she did as she was told to do, finding the best of the best.
Douglas - best snipper in the army. Helped that he could fight like a beast.
Marco - best hacker she had ever seen, fighter, built like a brick wall (secretly a cuddle bear).
Colleen - she saved Y/n’s life when she had been cornered in a dark alleyway neither her or her attacker saw the knife coming. No brainer.
Marley - a young girl at the time was an experiment Y/n stumbled on, she didn’t have the heart to leave her and when she saw what she was capable of doing, she brought her on board too.
Then there was Hank - the biggest mistake she ever made. He was ruthless and conniving, she thought it would work well in her favour until they all heard screaming and they saw him pinning a seventeen year old Marley to the wall and was trying to shove his hand into the girls trousers. Y/n didn’t hesitate to put a bullet into his skull, catching Marley as she fell.
John said they needed another person but she refused. There was no way she was going to bring another person in, not after what had happened.
Their mission was for them to break into a government base and download all the information off the computers, when they got there, there was dead bodies of workers.
Pulling back Y/n ordered them to leave, the moment they stepped back outside they were surrounded by the military, FBI and even SHIELD. 
That was the night she met both Ross and Fury.
“Y/n he’s dead, died in a Mexican prison seven years ago.”
“Oh…”
“I need you to tell me the locations of all four of them”
Chuckling softly, “that’s not going to happen Ross and you know it.”
“No I know-“
“If I give them me, confess to murdering all those people, tell them l was the only person that did it, will they leave them alone?” She asks desperately.
“But that’s not tr-“
“It doesn’t matter what’s true or not Ross. Will they yes or no?”
Closing his eyes he whispers “yes”.
“Let me make one phone call and I’ll come with you, right here right now”.
“That doesn’t need to happen. I’ll need your help soon, you help and I’ll make sure you get a fair trial”
“My old team walks. Free and clear, no one comes after them and I want it in writing Ross.”
“Deal.”
Shaking hands she walks back over to the van, hopping in “take me back from where you kidnapped me from”.
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*Back to the present*
The first thing she did when she got into her car was FaceTime Fran who answered after a few rings.
“Hey”
“Hi, Doug told me what happened you’re supposed to be resting Y/n/n”.
“I’m fine,honestly. Where’s my little terrors?”
Laughing Fran calls for the twins, Y/n couldn’t stop smiling when she heard their feet’s pounding on the floor shouting for her.
“Here, talk to momma - I’ll talk to you after okay missy”.
“Of course. Hi babies”
“Momma” they replied in unison. To see them brought a smile to her lips, her heart ached with the need to hold them in her arms.
“Guess what bubbas!”
“What” Logan asked.
“Momma loves you both, so so much!”
“I wuv you mama” Harlow screams down the phone, making her and Fran laugh.
“Logie aren’t you going to tell me the same?”
“I wuv you momma so so so so so so much” His little face beams.
They were truly the perfect mixture of Y/n and Bucky. Logan had Y/n’s eyes whilst Harlow had Bucky’s, Harlow had her fathers smile and Logan had his mommas. The mannerisms of the pair were the exact same as their parents.
She spoke with them for close to an hour, them telling her all about their fun filled day. Saying goodbye to them pained her, she hated saying them words to her babies. Speaking with Fran for a bit she ended the call and went back to the house.
In dire need of sleep.
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The rest of the week passed, Douglas visiting her most days and telling her that the team of superheroes wanted to see her to apologise, nothing was ever said back to him, leaving him hoping that things were different. 
It was the day of the mission, she rang Fran so she could speak to her babies one last time. She left the house and headed back to the tower.
“It’s important that everyone knows exactly what the plan is. Nothing can go wrong”. Fury speaks from the head of the table. “Anyone want to saying anything?”
“Yeah, Y/n I’m so so-“ Wanda tries to say.
“It’s fine. Let’s just get this over and done with, my guys- are you ready?”
“Yes boss” All answer.
“Well, good luck everyone”.
On the quinjet ten minutes later, awkwardness filled the air as both teams sit on opposite sides. No words are spoken other than the pilot saying they were taking off.
Exactly three hours twenty-five minutes and 13 seconds - she timed it - was how long it took for Tony to say something, to be honest she was shocked it took him that long.
“Y/n can we talk?”
“If it’s an apology I don’t want it, it mean’s absolutely nothing to me. If it’s about the mission, then yes we can talk.”
“We need to apologise Y/n/n”
The nickname coming from Sam’s lips make her flinch. “I don’t want it nor need it.”
The quinjet fell silent once again.
That was until Bucky broke it. “I never cheated on you”
Everyone noticed the flash of pain in her eyes, “what?”
“I never slept with Nat, we pretended in order to hurt you, ba-Y/n we believed that you betrayed us”
“Believed Sharon don’t you mean.”
“We-I didn-“
“Awesome.”
“What?”
“I think it’s funny that instead of asking me and oh I don’t know believing me, instead you all believed a desperate blonde who had to settle for the man who still pines after her dead aunt, it’s quite absurd to me really.”
“We didn’t know what to believe Y/n. You’re the one that killed Sharon s-“ Steve speaks and ultimately gets cut off.
“I only killed her because I had no other choice!”
“There’s always a choice” He spat back.
“You’re right. But that night I didn’t have one, I wish it wasn’t but she left me no choice!”
“Why did you do it?”
“Pilot how long do we have long left?” They all look baffled by her change of the subject.
“We’re nearly here Miss”.
“Thanks” turning to look Bucky directly in the eyes “when this is all over Doug can explain it to you, end of discussion.”
The quinjet lowers to the ground and everyone takes their leave, just as Y/n walked past Douglas she slides two things into his pocket before gripping his hand and smiling towards him, he squeezes her hand and leans over to place a kiss to her temple.
Bullets fly freely, smoke fill their lungs, grunts and screams are heard. Pushing forwards they all work as one.
They had only been there for less than an hour before the remaining members of The Lords surrender.
After all the intel was gathered, the prisoners on board, they hear the sound of another jet.
“What the hell?” Tony asks.
The Avengers watch as Y/n gives each of her team a lingering hug - who all apart from Douglas looked confused.
As she gets to Doug hugging him too, she whispers something into his ear that even the two super soldiers couldn’t hear, pulling back they stand to attention and salute one another.
She says nothing as she passes them and up the soldiers who put handcuffs on her.
“What the hell just happen-“ Bucky stumbles out but is cut off when the jet carrying the woman who he was still very much in love with inside exploded.
Marley screams and the sound breaks Douglas’s heart, he grabs the woman who he’s always seen as his daughter in his arms as well as Colleen who falls to her knees. Marco stands there with his dark brown eyes not moving away from the still falling parts of the jet.
The Avengers, they all have silent tears streaming down their cheeks, none of them know what to say or do. They’ve just witnessed the person who at one point they trusted more than anything, the person they all betrayed just die.
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Douglas walks past them all with both women in his arms and walks straight up the ramp with Marco following behind.
When everyone’s on board the quinjet they see him sitting in the seat Y/n was occupying.
“The day she walked in on you fucking her best friend she found out she was pregnant. The night she killed Sharon, Hydra had showed up at her home wanting the babies, that scar she has-had on her cheek was from a bullet graze, Sharon tried to kill Y/n - caused her to go into early labour. Y/n killed Sharon because she had no other choice, hell she even gave the blonde bitch an out. When me and my wife got there she was in the middle of delivering her second baby.” He shakes his head sadly “the reason my best friend is dead is because of us” pointing to himself and the other three “she made a decision to leave her babies behind just so we didn’t get given the death penalty”.
Douglas pulls out the items Y/n had put into his pocket, her ring - the one with two love hearts that represented her twins, and her dog tags that also had two smaller tags with the twins names, date of birth engraved on them.
“James, she made me and my wife adopt the twins. She knew exactly what she was going to do when Ross talked to her about their deal, she said it was okay for us to let you see them. But please don’t think for one second that you’ll be able to take them away from us, because pal even if you are a super solider I’ll still kill you.”
Bucky sits there with tears in his eyes, “what’s their names?”
“Logan-Douglas and Harlow-Francesca” Doug tells him with a smile.
“Ca-if it’s okay with you and your wife, can I meet them?”
“You won’t try anything stupid?”
“No, god no of course not!”
“Then yeah that can be arranged.”
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For two years Bucky sees the children he didn’t know existed until two years ago.
His heart dropped to his stomach when Douglas took him to the house that Y/n had brought for them to live in after they retired. It became the warm loving home for Douglas, Fran and the kids.
Bucky did retire, the day after he lost the love of his life and met his children for the first time, and not only that but he also brought the house next door.
He formed a great bond with the couple who let him see the kids whenever he wanted - which was now every day since he moved next door.
The bond he had with his children was now unbreakable. Everyday he was reminded of what he lost and lost out of just by looking at their adorable little faces. He loved them so deeply, loving them at its purest form. He wishes more than anything that he could go back in time and redo everything all over again, but since he can’t he continues to make up for lost time.
He’s sat in the living room with the kids, Doug and Fran when a knock comes from the front door, he watches as Doug goes to answer and truly didn’t think anything of it.
“Hi babies” A warm voice says.
“Momma!” The twins scream in unison.
Shooting up from were he was laying on the floor building with the Lego set Steve brought Logan, he watches his kids jump up and run over to Y/n who instantly picks them up.
She’s alive. She’s standing right in front of him. His chest tightens. She’s really here.
“H-how?” He whispers but she hears it.
“You’ve been doing so great with them, I’ve been watching” she smiles.
He walks slowly over to her as she puts the kids down and he doesn’t hesitate or think about it before he smashes his lips to hers.
“I still love you Y/n/n”
“I still love you Bucky”
The kids squeal and jump in circles around their parents as Doug and Fran hold on to each other. 
Y/n pulls away from the man she still loves after everything and picks up her big babies.
“I told you I’ll always come back”
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~ banner credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~
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