#NAY I SAY SHE WILL GET HER TURN
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Day 2: Subculture
Ibuki Sato the resident rockabilly gal on her way to her date with the local mall goth for @fashion4standusers fashion week
#ffsufashionweek#[stitch it good as new] diran#tag her as her dad ig ive lost her moms tag#natsumi sato#But where is Nana the resident lolita?#NAY I SAY SHE WILL GET HER TURN#SHE WILL EVEN GET TO ACHIEVE A GOAL SHE HAS WANTED SOME OF YOU MAY KNOW WHAT THAT IS
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idk why but if u donât knee slap when smthg funny as hell ur kinda weird
#stream#like ?#itâs just#intuitive ?#u got to ?#this is me remembering that when my new cousin (my cousins now husband) was telling us a story abt bolognese bc at this italian restaurant#he went âi think im going to get the bo-log-nesâ & we started laughing but then he was like kinda confused bc we were laughing abt bologna#yesterday & then he said to my cousin âis that now how u pronounce it ?â & i LOST it like âbolo-nays ! đđđâ i thought u were KIDDING#but the first time he had it he saw it on the menu at the hospital (they both work in hospitals) & when his coworkers asked he went âi dunno#smthg w bolognaâ ALSKALSKALSKALSJLAJSLJSLA#heâs so fucking funny đđđđ#he was burping accidentally & my cousin would yell at him & then she was just like âjust say excuse me đâ so he turned to her mother & said#âexcuse meâ like SAY IT TO THE TABLE ALSKALSLALALAKALAKALAJALJQK#SCREAMING đđđđđđđđđđđđ#heâs soooo ridiculous#KINGGGGGGGG#honestly weâve loved him from day 1 idk heâs just such a good guy weâre sooo happy she married him đâ¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸#& we love the son !!!!
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just a taste
18+. mdni. smut. kinda perv!eddie x fem!reader. he is a lil freaky in this i'll admit.
a/n: i just love the idea of the citrus six all living together lol idk i think itâs so nice also i have never watched cheers i just googled 1991 american tv shows and picked one at random LMAO ++ for the movie, i thought itâd be a nice lil easter egg for them to watch something with winona in:,)
â§ď˝Ľďž: â§ď˝Ľďž:
eddie doesnât know who you are or why youâre coming to visit or why exactly it was him that was being made to vacate his room for the two weeks that you were here.Â
âcâmon eddie,â robin pleads, nay, demands, âyou sleep on the couch most nights anyway, whatâs the difference?âÂ
âuh, maybe because itâs my room? i donât want some random girl in there touching my stuff,â almost flabbergasted that sheâs even asking.Â
âsheâs not a random girl,â robin frowns, âsheâs my friend and she needs somewhere to stay.âÂ
âtell her thereâs a great hotel in town,â rolling his eyes, trying to leave the conversation before she breaks out the puppy dog eyes. "i'll even give her a ride if you ask nicely," no longer interested in entertaining this conversation.
âiâll give you fifty bucks,â robin deadpans, using her last resort.
this was bribery of the highest order but eddie's not stupid. fifty bucks is fifty bucks.
ânow?âÂ
she sighs, sliding her wallet from her pocket to reluctantly hand over the bill. she stops just before it touches his palm, âpromise youâll clean your room.âÂ
eddie goes to grab the paper but robinâs faster, jolting her hand into the air, âand change your sheets.âÂ
âokay,â he huffs, holding his palm outstretched.Â
she graciously places the note down, smiling wickedly as she does so before skipping off back to her own room.Â
he can only roll his eyes, turning around to the shit hole that was his room, wondering if fifty dollars was worth having to tackle it.Â
-
eddieâs sat on the couch when you arrive, barely looking back as robin begins to fuss, talking loudly about your journey. he doesnât really care enough to involve himself, besides, elvis presley had just given sam a very important message.Â
âeddie,â robin hisses, standing in front of the screen, âdonât be rude, say hello,â her hands firmly on her hips like she was his mother or something.Â
he looks up at the looming figure by the couch, hoping his eyes hadnât given his immediate shock away too much.Â
you flash him a sheepish smile back, waggling your fingers in a short wave.Â
two weeks on the couch didnât seem so bad now.Â
not if you were sleeping in his bed.Â
itâs just a shame that he wouldnât be in there sharing it.Â
âhey,â he stands, hoping to indiscreetly catch his breath, âiâm- uh, iâm eddie,â offering his hand out, though he regrets it as soon as itâs done.Â
who shakes hands now? christ. he needed to get a grip, and badly.Â
âhey,â you reply, your name dripping from your tongue. though you do shake his hand, not bothering to hide your confusion in the process.Â
âeddie very kindly said you could have his room,â a bright, big sarcastic smile on her lips.Â
âyeah.. no biggie..â christ, heâs almost panting. âdo whatever you want in there.. or you know, just- just make yourself at home.âÂ
his desperate pleas for the earth to split open and swallow him whole go unanswered. instead, robin shoots him a concerned glare before ushering you away from his weird, longing gaze.Â
'pull it together loser' she mouths before disappearing, leaving him to reflect upon how utterly hard he had just fumbled that entire situation.Â
-
when everyoneâs home from work and youâve exchanged niceties and greetings with the rest of the house, robin brightly suggests a movie.Â
eddie usually hated movie nights in the house.Â
jonathan would want to watch some indie cult classic that no one else had ever heard of, steve wanted to watch some dumb comedy that only heâd find funny and then nancy and robin typically opted for the romance genre.Â
leaving eddie and argyle with absolutely no choice but to sit in silence as they bickered.Â
tonight itâs different, you get to pick.Â
and now heâs not saying that whatever you choose will forever change the way he views you but.. well, thatâs actually exactly it.Â
you land on edward scissorhands.Â
not the worst choice you couldâve made, and hey, his mom used to call him edward when he was in real bad trouble.Â
in the end, it doesnât really matter what you had picked because eddie canât muster up enough energy to actually care about the film. not while your thighs are peeking out from underneath your oversized shirt. he canât help but wonder what theyâd feel like wrapped around his ears. what previous sounds would fall out of your mouth in response.
at some point during the movie, you stand up and walk out of the room to the kitchen but that doesnât stop him. staring through the open door, marvelling at the way the hem of your shirt lifts, exposing the tiny shorts you had on underneath.Â
heâs practically hanging over the back of the couch to get a look, craning his neck at a ninety degree angle just to get a glimpse of your soft, pillowy skin. pinching himself as he tries to resist the urge to just sink his teeth into your inner thigh.
robin jabs her elbow into his ribcage, drawing his eyes back to the room with a grunt and a harsh glare thrown her way.Â
âyouâve been staring at her all night,â she whispers angrily into his ear, âstop it, or next time itâs your balls,â a harsh warning he didnât find entirely necessary.Â
you sidle back into the room, drink in hand and eddie canât help but let his eyes wander over again, short glances that robin hopefully wouldnât pick up on.Â
he canât help it, some magnetic force swaying his gaze in your direction. he wishes so badly that he could just crawl out of his head and tell you how much he wanted you.Â
unfortunately for eddie, heâd instead spend the night dreaming of your ass and all the ways he could have you if heâd only grow a backbone.Â
-
living alongside you is an entirely new feat eddieâs not sure heâll survive.Â
itâs torturous.Â
testing the limits of how ridiculously horny one man can get without self-imploding.Â
so close and yet so far. each night youâd tuck yourself into his bed, doing god knows what in between his sheets all without eddie getting a look in.
of course heâd made up a hundred different scenarios to fall asleep to each night.Â
his favourite being the one where he walks into his bedroom to find you mouth open, legs apart, too encapsulated in your pleasure to notice him. only until you do, inviting him closer, between those supple thighs of yours, a forbidden nirvana heâll never get to know.Â
though more often than not heâs cruelly forced back into reality by robin ripping the curtains open at the ass crack of dawn, blaring sunlight on his face as you slip away from the grapples of his dream land.Â
now is his opportunity, the house quiet, bar the muffled giggles of you and robin upstairs. heâs safe for now, he thinks, rather foolishly. itâs late, the rest of them asleep or too busy in their own rooms to catch him in the act.Â
eddieâs never done anything like this before. itâs disgusting, perverted to the core.Â
good grief, this is prosecutable behaviour.Â
tiptoeing down the hall to his room, the door open just a crack, enticing him in further. he can still hear you on the floor above, giving him enough confidence to push it open a little more, edging inside with a quick glance back down the hall, just in case.Â
gratefully it seemed that you were just as messy as he was, your clothes strewn across the floor. his eyes immediately turning to the peeking of lace from under the pile. glancing one last time at the cracked door, ensuring that absolutely nobody would see him.Â
reaching down to gather the fabric in one quick swoop, bunching them in his palm as he lets out a quick sigh of relief.Â
oh fuck. they were so soft, fingers spreading to really get a feel. he wasn't even going to take them, he'd just wanted a little look, something to help his overactive imagination get all the important details right.
âwhat are you doing?â startling him in this precarious position, the lace of your underwear entangled around his fingertips.Â
eddie freezes, he can feel the heat rising through his chest, all the way up to the tips of his ears. scarlet red.Â
âuh.. i..i-i donât know..â he hasnât done anything like this before, he swears.Â
your mouth is open in a sort of half-smirk, half-perplexed gawp, closing the door before he could bolt.Â
you move around the mess, creeping closer until he can feel you brushing against his side, peering over into his hand.Â
âoh wow..â you remark, breath hot and sweet against his cheek, âwhat were you gonna do with those?âÂ
eddie feels sick, trying not to projectile vomit across his room. thereâs no way you wouldnât tell robin. fuck. he could hear you now, voice full of disgust, robin laughing at how pathetic he was.Â
ân-nothing i swear..â stumbling through his sentence, âi was just..â excuses fail to come to mind, âi was uhm.. looking for something,â the absolute best his flustered mind to muster up.Â
âoh really?â reaching around to untangle them from his hand, âyou sure about that?âÂ
thereâs no anger to your voice, but he doesnât dare turn around to look at your face. afraid of what heâll find. your eyes pitying, sad that he has to root around your dirty laundry to get off.Â
âiâm- iâm sure,â though the crack in his voice gives him away.Â
you hum, coming around to stand in front of his gormless face, âso you donât wanna keep these?â holding the evidence up to his face, the hem just barely grazing his cheek.Â
eddieâs knees almost buckle, his breath shuddering as any semblance of composure he had left, floats right out the window.Â
âhere,â reaching forward to tuck the baby blue fabric into the waistband of his sweatpants, your eyes never once leaving his as you do so. âyou keep those.. but next time just ask, okay?âÂ
he nods like an obedient dog, lapping up the scraps you were throwing him. he could stand here all night long, keeping up the weird little power game youâd started.Â
âgoodnight eddie,â you smile, giving him a gentle nudge, a sign for him to get the fuck out.Â
you were the master, he was just the lap dog, eager to please.Â
-
at breakfast the next morning, he struggles to even keep his eyes open. having spent an embarrassingly long amount of time on the couch last night shamelessly sniffing the lace youâd gifted him.Â
you donât even acknowledge it, or him for that matter. happily chatting along with nancy about some news article.Â
âoh and eddie,â robin begins, flashing him a stern look, âi donât appreciate finding your fucking panties in between the couch cushions,âÂ
he chokes on his mouthful, his knife clattering against the table in shock. a multitude of eyes turn to stare at the spectacle he was making.Â
âtheyâre- theyâre not mine,â clearing his throat as he clears his name, though he doesnât dare look in your direction, terrified that heâd absolutely lose his mind if he did.Â
âwell whoeverâs they are, i donât care, stop leaving them on the couch.. iâm sure our guest doesnât want to sit amongst dirty underwear,â she bites, calming down now she had gotten her point across.Â
if only she knew.Â
eddie mustâve fallen asleep with them still attached to his hand, thanking his lucky stars that no one had walked in on him with them pressed to his nose. Â
he keeps his head low, focusing on the plate in front of him. nothing had ever been as mortifying as this. not even the time he had slipped off the dinner table in the middle of the cafeteria.Â
cutlery scrapes and clinks against the china, uncomfortable silence until argyle clears his throat, âgnarly meal robin, thanks dude,â seemingly settling the tense atmosphere, for now.Â
everybody hums in agreement, getting back to their food without another word. but your eyes peek up, meeting his with an indescribable glint. and really, the worst part is that eddie would sit through this horrific situation a hundred more times, just for one more measly sniff at your panties.Â
-
eddie canât take it anymore.Â
heâs never been so pent up in his entire life. and heâs tried to hold on until he could move back into his room but he couldnât last any longer.Â
but heâs careful, waiting for everyone to trundle on off to bed, listening carefully for the muted click of the light switch and even then, waiting another hour to be sure.Â
the clock glares an alarming 1:04 by the time his belt clinks and his jeans come down, the first of them would be awake in just a few hours, ready to take you on to the airport.Â
he wishes it wouldâve played out differently, that he wouldnât be sat here on the last night of your stay alone. but alas, eddieâs never been particularly brave and especially not in regards to hot women.Â
your panties wrapped around his right hand as he spits on his left, wrapping around his stiff cock while his fingertips play with the lace in his other hand.Â
âohh fuck,â he hisses, wanting nothing more than to start hollering the house down.Â
robin wouldnât be too pleased if she ever found out what heâd done. and he canât really afford to get the entire couch dry-cleaned so he really must be careful.Â
thinking quick, he shoves his t-shirt into his mouth, muffling the chorus of grunts and groans threatening to spill over into the dark room. the muted light from the tv illuminates his face, breathing loudly through his noseÂ
he hadnât heard the door open or the soft sound of your feet padding down the hall, only made aware of your presence when he reopens his eyes, near enough jumping out of his bones.Â
how long had you been there watching him shudder and whine?
âfuck,â he exclaims, fist still wrapped tight around his throbbing cock, too aroused to care about it too much.Â
âyou want some help with that?âÂ
eddie looks at his dick, then back at you, mouth hung open in a mixture of awe and confusion.Â
itâs not very clear but you move closer anyway, sinking to your knees and nestling in between his spread legs.Â
âokay?â maintaining eye contact despite how difficult it was, eyes bright and eager.Â
he nods, unable to comprehend what was happening. knowing heâd wake up from this twisted dream to some soggy boxers and a whole lotta shame.Â
your palm wraps around the base of his cock, shooing his hands away to make room, smiling as your lips wrap around the already leaking tip. were you a psychopath? were you placed on this earth to goad and tease him?
this isnât real. this isnât real. the voice repeats around his head though itâs quickly silenced by your tongue swirling circles around the tip of his cock, readjusting his t-shirt to bite down harshly on the fabric.Â
eddieâs hands lay useless on his thighs, twitching to intertwine with your hair, still doubting the reality of the situation. this could all be a dream and the second he touches your hair, youâd disappear from in front of his eyes.
the t-shirt falls from his lips, âfuuck,â grunting into the tense air, gritting his teeth so as to not expose your precarious position to the rest of the house.Â
the wet sounds of your lips wrapped tight around his cock make his toes curl, his hands find your hair, not without prompting from you. tugging gently at the tendrils as his head starts to spin.Â
when your eyes look up to meet his, eddie thinks he might just cum right down your throat then and there. he can see that troublesome glint in your eye, a roaring fire that he so desperately wants to keep stoking.Â
your fingers slide up his thigh, finding his neglected balls and with a slight smirk, you grab ahold, gently fondling them as his brain melts out of his ears.Â
no one had ever, ever made him feel so good. collectively losing brain cells when you hum on his cock, getting just as much out of this as he was.Â
âoh yeah, fuck- shit fuck, iâmcummingiâmcummingiâmcumming,â eddieâs mouth rushes, louder than he ever shouldâve been. bright flashes of light fill his peripheral, using your scalp as leverage to keep himself on the couch.Â
his hips stutter, thrusting into your mouth with his fingers tight in your hair, yanking harshly in an effort to get your lips off of him before he came everywhere.Â
you donât budge, nails digging into his thigh as his release seeps down your throat, his eyes squeezing shut as his fist instinctively comes up to muffle his mouth, moaning into his clammy palm instead of alerting the entire house.Â
eddieâs other hand lets go of his strong hold on your hair, allowing you to get off of his dick, panting happily as you sit up between his knees and with lips glistening with his release, you kiss him. all soft and gentle while his brain fails to compute.Â
it should be gross. but eddie just canât find it in himself to care, because in reality, this was the hottest thing that had ever happened in his measly little life.Â
âplease let me taste you,â he begs between kisses, grasping desperately at your waist, the fabric of your shirt slipping between his desperate fingers.
you giggle, pulling back to look at him through the dimmed light, ânot now,â you hover just above, constantly teasing and unobtainable
âwell when?" jutting his bottom lip out in hopes it'd convince you to change your mind.
"when i'm back," letting him down gently. eddie'd count the seconds till you came back if that was what it took to get even a tiny glimpse of your pussy.
âwhat time do you leave?â he pants, chasing your lips. eddie was nothing if not a chancer, though if it hadn't happened already, there's a miniscule chance of it happening now.
âseven,â whispering back, a hint of annoyance that this build up had only crescendoed now, just as you were about to leave. he'll blame robin for that, poking her nose in and trying to turn him off. it shouldn't have worked. he should've been braver.
âbut itâs your turn,â an awful sadness and regret overcoming him. someone better, someone like steve, would've had you pinned to that couch by now, his head between your thighs and your slick dripping down his chin. Â
ânext time,â only repeating yourself, smiling coyly before you plant one last kiss to his longing lips before standing fully upright and disappearing back off to his room, leaving him reeling with a story nobody else would ever believe.
#eddie munson#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x you#eddie munson stranger things
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Mr. Bridgerton and the Baker
Benedict Bridgerton x Reader
Summary: Covered in flour. It is how she usually spent her days, working hard at her family's bakery. She just hadn't expected to have met him in such a state.
Word Count: 11.8k
Warnings: pining, angst, fluff, a small assault (reader gets hit, not by Benedict!), mention of pregnancy (like, literally a line or two),
A/N: Did I write an entire fic barely based on that one scene in Camp Rock where Mitchie is covered in flour? Yes. Do I regret it? No.
With the melting of snow and the promise of new starts, the social season was nearly upon the ton, nearly upon all the potential suitors and debutantesâall waiting with bated breath to secure a match this year. Of course, those in waiting were of high status, usually tied to the aristocracy or drowning in wealth beyond compare.
The others? The ones not blessed with endless funds or pure luck of royal lineage had the privilege, nay, honor to serve those who would be so fortunate. For the many, it included servicing the estatesâbutlers, ladyâs maids, governesses, home chefs and the like. For the patrons on Tilbury Street, it included the less sought after roles, polishers, cobblers, modistes and bakeries. One bakery in particular was the prime choice for the aristocracy, a diamond in the rough as some may say.Â
â
âI just simply donât understand why we cannot have our chefs prepare the pastries for the ball,â Eloise Bridgerton nearly groaned, her arm hooked onto her motherâs. They had been walking up and down Tilbury Street for the better part of twenty minutes, simply enjoying the fresh spring weather. âIâve never known them to make horrid dishes.â
âItâs the first Bridgerton Ball of the season, Eloise,â the dowager viscountess murmured politely. âAlong with it being the first Kate has had the pleasure of hosting, putting an order in here is a fresh foot forward, one thatâll impress our guests.â
Eloise barked back a laugh. âIf it is so important, why is Kate not here to make the order herself?â
âThat, dear sister, is an excellent point.â Following close behind the two Bridgerton ladies was a rather tall shadow, equally as dashing and nearly as cleverâBenedictâthe second eldest son of the Bridgerton brood. âSurely Anthony could spare his wife for one afternoon, I canât imagine it being so difficult to pry them from their bedroomââ
âBenedict Bridgerton!â Violet snapped, turning hot on her heels to face her son. He could only laugh.
âOh Mother, you must relax,â he said lovingly, patting both hands on her shoulders. âYou know better than I that it could have been a far fouler thoughtâwhy, I can easily imagine three other ways I could have expressed my way of thinking.â
âAh, ever the poet, Benedict,â Eloise smiled wryly, pushing her way to the front of their clump. No one had the heart to mention the glaring fact that it was likely she didnât know the way in which they were headed.Â
âThis bakery,â Violet continued half-heartedly. âIs a prestigious supplier for the tonâyou may recall their exquisite cake that we had ordered for Daphneâs wedding.â
Benedict hummed contently. âIt was a good cake,â he practically nodded off at the thought. The decadent sponge nearly brought him to tearsâof course, it could have very well been the relief from undue stress of Daphneâs season altogether, having nearly lost his older brother to an unnecessary duel.
âI think it was far too sweet,â Eloise said, scrunching her nose in distaste. âI had to drink nearly three cups of tea to clear out the sugar on my tongue.â
âAh, but whatâs life without a little bit of sweetness?â Benedict nearly sang.
âPerfectly fulfilling,â his younger sister quipped back.
The dowager viscountess could only sigh, her eyes reaching up to the clouds above. While she loved nothing more than being the mother of all eight of her perfect children, their endless bickering and bantering grew vexing. It merely took the Bridgerton siblings another minute of arguing before stopping in front of a quaint storefrontâthe sickeningly sweet aroma filling the street. âWeâre here.â
âI could have told you as much,â Benedict mumbled, rubbing his temple lightly. âThe scent is⌠overpowering.â If he were lucky, the headache that was quickly forming would dull fast.
âBut Benedict,â Eloise turned hot on her heels. âWhatâs life without a bit of sweetness?â
Violet Bridgerton was quick to catch her second eldest's hand before it met the back of Eloiseâs head. âIf itâs too much for you, dear,â she released her grip. âPlease feel free to wait for us out here. It should only take a moment.â
âLike a âmomentâ at the modiste?â Benedict crossed his arms, his brow nearly touching his hairline. âIf I recall, the last time I accompanied you to the dressmaker, I spent over an hour basking in the summer sun.â
âNothing logical stopped you from coming in,â Eloise drawled. âOf course, if you wanted to managed to stay pleasant with the seamstress, one should have kept it in his trousersââ Â
âWeâll only be a moment,â Violet hushed Eloise quickly, grasping the top of her arm firmly. âThere seems to be little wait. Weâll be on our way shortly.â
He huffed towards the sunâwhile there had been little heat near the start of the English spring, the sun was warm against his skin. Benedict enjoyed being outdoors more often than not, it was usually the reason he accompanied his mother on their errands nearly every other day of the season. That, of course, and the fact it got his worrying mama off of his back to be wed. With Anthony finally securing a match, it was only fitting for Violet Bridgerton to be working her way down her list of endless childrenâhaving only two of eight married off. âIt should only be a moment,â Benedict reassured himself, watching various other families and couples walk by.Â
That is, until he heard a rather loud bang coming from the alley beside him. He should have known betterâhe was taught betterâthan to investigate outlandish sounds, especially in town, but Benedict Bridgerton was nothing if not curious. He peeked around the corner, holding his breath, preparing to be met with a wild animal of some kind. His view was shaky at best, hardly could see a thing around the bricks. If he wanted a better look, heâd have to take a few steps towards the unusual noise.Â
A large white cloud had enveloped the small alley, it was difficult to even see a few meters ahead, let alone what could have caused the loud commotion. Benedict waved his hand through the mysterious fog, trying to clear some air. âHello?â He heard a soft squeak. An animal, it had to have been, Benedict was sure of it now. âIs anyone there?âÂ
A cough rang through the alley, startling him more than rogue vermin could have. The cloud had begun to dissipate, the white settling on the stone street below. Flour, if he had to guess, given the location.
âIâm alright,â a voice murmured quietly, another soft cough following quickly after. The shape of a person came into view, the air finally clearing enough for him to make sense of the scene he came upon. It was one of a woman now covered head to toe in the white powderâshe had no distinguishable features, the flour was caking every bit of her body and dress. Just striking eyes that made Benedictâs heart jump to his throat. âJust⌠made a mess.â
âSo it seems,â Benedict hummed, stepping over a pile of powder to get closer. âDo you require any help?â
âNo, no,â she laughed. âI wouldnât want you to get dirty. I fear Iâve got quite enough of that for the both of us.â
âI donât mind getting dirty,â Benedict said quickly, his tongue moving faster than his brain. âBut⌠yes, I suppose itâd be for the best if I refrained from getting any flour on me. May I ask howâŚ?â
âClumsy,â she uttered simply, the shrug of her shoulders speaking nothing but truth. âI must have the slipperiest fingers in townâI wish I could say this was the first timeâŚâ
âManage to cover yourself in flour often?â Benedictâs lips pulled into a jesting smirk.
âNearly every other day,â the woman sighed. âWeâve grown accustomed to purchasing an extra sack or two just for situations like these."
âI hardly doubt you could be that clumsy,â Benedict laughed, leaning against the stone wall. âBut, I am painting quite the image in my head.â
âOh I do hope Iâm decent in that image, Mr. Bridgerton,â she giggled, curtsying in a near-mocking manner.
âHow do you knowââ
âEveryone knows your family, Mr. Bridgerton, Iâd be a fool to admit I donât know who you areâthough you and your brothers all blur together, so I am merely taking a shot in the dark in which of the four you are.â
âOh?â
She nodded once, a flurry of powder falling from her hair. A muffled shout from the back door startled her, grabbing her attention. âAh,â the woman waved the air in front of her face, âI suppose I should take my leaveâget cleaned up.â
âOf course,â Benedict said simply. âI wonât keep you.â In nearly an instant, the mysterious dusted lady disappeared from view, diving into the back door. He was taken aback by her candidnessâhaving addressed him so forwardly without the pleasantries of a name exchange. âDamn,â he mumbled to himself, kicking residual flour off of his polished shoe, âI never asked for her name.â Would it be too forward to knock on the back door to ask for her? Benedict Bridgerton couldnât wrap his head around the interactionâshe nearly sent him into a tizzy.
âBrother?âÂ
Eloise stood at the end of the alley, clutch in hand, face pinched in confusion.Â
âAh, I suppose youâre finished?â
âHardly,â Eloise scoffed, âMother insisted on doubling the initial order âjust to be safeâ. Sheâll be out in a moment.âÂ
âPerhaps I should go inside to accompany herââ
âAnd leave your unwed sister unchaperoned in this part of town?â Eloise pressed a hand to her brotherâs chest, stopping him dead in his tracks. His eyes danced quickly to the street in the distance, clearly not paying any attention to his sister. âBenedict?â
âHm?â He glanced down. âAh, maybe we should both go back insideââ
âYouâreâŚâ she pushed on him harder, nearly sending him backwards. âActing strange. Not terribly long ago you wanted nothing to do with this place and now, youâre dying to jump into the building that brought you so much strife?â Eloise removed her hand from him, settling it down by her side as she glanced at him up and down. The blues of his outfit were covered slightly in a white powerânot enough to really notice, but enough to give the appearance of filth. âAnd youâre covered in⌠flour?â
âI donât wish to share every moment of my day with you, dear Sister,â Benedict said simply, sighing contently. âMy business is my business.â
âBusiness,â Eloise parroted. âSure.â
Violet Bridgerton had finished the order quickly, mumbling something about the higher prices this time of yearâshe had gotten a good deal regardless. Benedict was hardly listening, for he was already planning his next trip to this very bakery, hoping to meet the girl in flour once more.Â
He never did get the chance, to go back to town. His studies took up most of his free time, any other moment he had was spent with his ever-growing family. Just recently, his sister Daphne brought over her newest additionâanother daughter named Belindaâwho happened to be yet another spitting image of her mother. Benedict had a theory that every new Bridgerton baby will simply just inherit all the Bridgerton features, so far he had been proven correct.Â
âDamn,â Benedict mumbled, violently dabbing a paint brush into his water cup, the colors swirling from the end.
He had been in his studio for the last few hours, mixing endless pigments and oils together, trying to concoct the color in his mindâs eye. It was impossible, he theorized, to create the exact shades and hues of her eyes. It was the most striking thing he remembered about her appearanceâsave for the copious amount of white flour caking her formâand Benedict Bridgerton had come to the conclusion that her eyes were simply forged by God Himself, a color not meant for mortal recreation.
âWhy can I notâŚâ He sighed, slumping back in his stool, paintbrush nearly hitting his trousers. âThis is impossible.â
The grand clock beside the door chimed out. It was nearly time to get ready for Anthony and Kateâs ballâan occasion he was most dreading, save for enjoying the few pastries that came from the quaint bakery down in town. Reluctantly, he began to pry himself from his studio and made his way to the washroom, preparing to soak away any remnants of her.
â
âMother,â (Y/N) chimed out, tying the serving apron to her waist, âI donât see the reason for my attendance this evening. Surely the hosts of the event will have their own serving staff?â
â(Y/N),â her mother exasperated, throwing a towel down. âYour brothers are ill and bedridden and have been the last few days. Your father and I are counting on you to help fulfill the order, my back isnât what it used to be, if you recall.â Â
The girl sighed, her eyes rolling right up to the cracking ceiling. âHow funny, it seems your back flares up nearly in time for deliveries to be made,â the girl mumbled.
âWhat was that?â Her mother turned quickly towards her only daughter. âIâm sure I misheard you.â
âYou must have,â (Y/N) sang. âFor I said Iâm willing to help with the delivery, mother.â
The older woman narrowed her brow. âNever do I hear such sass from the boys⌠Perhaps a bit of manual labor will refocus your priorities.âÂ
âI already agreed,â (Y/N) reiterated. âAs if I had terribly too much of a choiceâŚâ
âNo,â her mother clicked, slapping the a rather large ball of dough that resided on the floured surface. âYou do not. Now come, help your mother roll this out.â
She had gotten ready for the ball in record timeâseeing as how sheâs never gotten ready for one. (Y/N) dug through her motherâs wardrobe, finding an old and somewhat outdated green dress to wear, but it did the trick just fine. It was far nicer than the frocks she had owned anyhow, a light embroidery laced the edges and was sure to be run over by her fingertips endlessly throughout the evening. Â
âThe carriage is here!â Her father couldnât have shouted louder throughout the small flat. Their home resided above the bakery, a quaint little thing with only two bedroomsâ(Y/N) had the pleasure of sleeping in a rather over-glorified closet. If she reached her arms out, sheâd be able to touch two of the walls easily, but like everything in her life, she made do. Unexpected child? Unexpected room.Â
âIâll be right there,â (Y/N) said, tying the now-cleaned apron around her waist, checking herself in the reflection of her water pitcher. âDamned hair,â her fingers moved to tuck a loose ringlet back into positionâshe had spent the better part of the evening trying to style it.Â
âWe need to load the carriage and make way to Bridgerton House,â her father repeated, smoothing his formalwear out. He hardly had the chance to wear it, seeing as situations like this happen only once in a while. âWe must make a good impression, perhaps weâll find more business this evening.â
âThatâll be a blessing,â her mother agreed, heading down the stairs to the bakery. âWe could always use more business and the dowager viscountess is well liked around the ton, surely sheâll have pleasant things to say about our work.â
âI thought we let the pastries âspeak for themselvesâ,â (Y/N) chimed in, carefully picking up a parcel. Her parents simply glared at her, allowing their daughter to silently move along with the loading process.Â
The silence continued throughout the lengthy ride to Bridgerton Houseâthe bakers not uttering a word until disembarking to unload all of the sweets. True to her original thought, the Bridgertons had their staff do the bulk of the unloading, carrying each parcel and box into the grand room that was to be the heart of the ball, all that was left to move was the elegant cake specially ordered by the dowager viscountess.
âDo you need a hand?â
âOh, that would beââ (Y/N) turned around to the mysterious voice, only to find the same Bridgerton boy from earlier in the week standing behind her. âIâMr. Bridgerton, Iâm sure I can find my father to assist, you really donât need toââ
âI insist,â Benedict held up his hand, effectively cutting her off. âI shouldnât allow a lady to carry such a thing on her own, it would be most improper.â
âIâm certainly no lady,â she scoffed, readjusting her apron. âIâm not a part of your âseasonâ or whatever it is you lot do during the spring and summer months.â
Benedict barked out a laugh. âDebuted into the Marriage Mart or not, youâre still a lady and I am ever the gentleman, so please, indulge me.â
A blinding heat flushed across her cheeksâshe was sure it was visible from down the street. (Y/N) stepped to the side to allow Benedict to grab ahold of one side of the tray, her hands curling around the other. âThank you⌠for your help.â
âItâs no bother,â Benedict said truthfully. âIâve been practically bored out of my skull all afternoon, this is truly the highlight of my evening.â
âHelping me carry a cake?â She asked, turning a corner carefully.
âSeeing you again,â he hummed unabashedly, noting the way her grip stiffened. âThough I must say, I think I prefer you without the flour.â
âHow do you know that girl was me? I was covered head to toe.â
âYour eyes,â Benedict said simply. âTheyâre the most expressive and exquisite eyes Iâve had the pleasure of viewing.â
Benedict Bridgerton. The man who made her speechless.
âThat, and I made a bold assumption when I saw you and the pastries arrive this evening.â He laughed lightly, afraid to drop the masterpiece. âI assumed correctly, no?â
âYou,â (Y/N) tried to allow her cheeks to cool before continuing.âWould be correct. Very wise you are, Mr. Bridgerton.â
âBenedict.â
âBenedict,â she repeated softly, twisting herself to set the cake down on the table. âMy apologies.â
The ballroom was grandâmuch nicer than any place sheâd dream of residing inâdelicate decorations hung from the sconces, flowers covered nearly every inch of the free space. It was, in every meaning, elegant. âThis is⌠where you live?â
âAh,â Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. âMy brother has been kind to allow me to stay here since he married, seeing as I only have my own property in the country. But yes, this is one of the homes I grew up in.â
âOne of the homes,â she repeated back to him. âAnd here I thought I was spoiled with my broom closet.â
He turned a vibrant shade of red. âOh! I didn't mean toââ
Her laughter filled the ballroom, the lightness practically lifting Benedict upwards. âI was merely teasing. Iâm well aware of your status and wealth, Mr. BridgertonââÂ
âBenedict.â
âAh! Sorry,â (Y/N) felt the twinge of shame hit her chest, it was small but enough to keep her in line to avoid making the mistake again. âI meant it in jest.â
âFunny girl,â Benedict clicked, waving his finger lightly. âYouâve got quite a sense of humor.â
âGrowing up with nothing more than sacks of flour and parcels of sugar allows one to get creative with her jokes,â she explained carefully, treading lightly as to not make it sound completely miserable. âThough, I think they were a better audience anyhowâŚâ
âYou wound me,â a hand grabbed his heart, knees buckling towards the ground. âOh how the lady wounds me.â
âI believe I told you, Benedict, I certainly am no lady.â
âWell, the lady has neglected to give me her name,â he peeked up from the floorâhaving found quite a cozy position. âSo how else should I address such a fair maiden?â
âFair maiden,â she scoffed playfully, voice barely above a whisper. âCertainly am nothing close to a maiden⌠but, if you must know,â she paused, âmy name is (Y/N), (Y/N) (Y/L/N).â
â(Y/N)âŚâ Benedict repeated it, mostly to himself. He rose from the floor, eyes not leaving her own. âWhat a beautiful name.â
âIâthank you. I suppose you should give my parents such a compliment, though. I am simply the recipient of such a gift.â
âWell, when I ask your parents for permission to court their daughter, Iâll pass the message along.â
She froze.Â
âAh, what was that?â
âI hate to be so bold,â Benedict sighed, shoving a hand into his pocket. âBut I feel the need to let you know of my intentionsâmy interest in you.â
âOh you must be mistaken,â (Y/N) shook her head. âYouâd want nothing to do with a girl like me. Surely there are other women in the ton who strike your fancy?â
âNope,â he said simply. âNot a one. You, on the other hand, with your striking eyes and seemingly endless beauty, piqued my interest. If I may be honest, I havenât stopped thinking about our encounter in the alleyâitâs been on the forefront of my mind for days.â
She blinked, the gears in her head trying to keep up with the words Benedict was speaking. âBut I am not from your world, Benedict. Even if I was interested in pursuing a courtshipââ
âAre you not?â His eyes struck wide open. âIâm quite the catch, you see. Well-bred, scholarly and, if I might say so myself, Iâm quite the talented artist. Easy on the eyes, too.â
âBenedict.â He stopped and looked at the woman. She was practically glowing in the candlelight. âWhile Iâm not saying Iâm⌠not interested, I canât help but feel like you are infatuated with the idea of me and not⌠me.â
âHow do you mean?â
She laughed humorlessly. âYou donât know me, truly. My likes, dislikes, how I take my tea, what weather I fancyââ
âSee,â Benedict grabbed her hand, âI wish to know those things. Is that not the purpose of a courtship?â
âI am not from your world, Benedict. I have priorities, a duty to my family and our businessâI canât spend a moment thinking of the frivolity of a courtship with a man of your status.â
âBut if I were, say, the butcherâs son it would be different?â
âYes,â she removed her hand from his. âOf course it would be. Iâm surprised you havenât thought this through.â
âI have been thinking it through since weâve met,â Benedict nearly spat, feeling anger bubble up in his chest. âI am not the type of man who wishes to court just anyone, you know.â
âSo you wish to court me just because you can? Because how ever could I say no?â
âIâof course not!â
âWeâre perfect strangers who shared a momentâalbeit an endearing oneâout in the middle of an alley. We both cleaned up and went about our lives,â she shook her head. âNothing cosmic or magical about it.â
âI did not expect you to be so against the idea, unless⌠thereâs another man of your affections?â
She groaned, pinching her nose. âNo. No other man. Has a woman ever said no to you before, Mr. Bridgerton?â
He paused, clearly taken aback.
âWell,â she smoothed the tablecloth, the wrinkle in the bottom corner was annoying her, âlet me be the first, then. No, I am not interested in a courtship, nor do I think I have any interest in a courtshipâwith you or anyoneâso do not take it terribly too personally.âÂ
âNever? Donât you plan to have a family of your own?â
âI already have a family,â she said simply. âI have no time for foolish ideas of having an adoring husband, three beautiful babies and a peaceful life out in the country.â
âThat seems awfully specificââ
âNo matter,â she waved. âThank you for your interest, Mr. Bridgerton, I am flattered, truly.â
She walked away, hoping to hide in the carriage the rest of the night. Was she a fool? To turn down a courtship from such a sophisticated and notable man of the ton?
Benedict seemed to think so. True to her comment, he couldnât recall a time in which a woman had rejected his advancesânever in the name of a courtship, this would be his firstâso to watch her walk away stung deeply, like a thorn to his heart. He was genuinely interested in the girl, he knew it. He just needed to prove it to her.
â
Days had passed since the Bridgerton ball and (Y/N) had successfully faked a stomach ache and ârestedâ in the carriage until the night was over and done with. She was busy in the kitchen, working hard on a batch of fresh loaves for the storefront. Flour dusted her apronâthe humor not lost on herâas she thought more and more about Benedictâs proposal.Â
The bell to the shop rang out, her brotherâs voice gave a muffled greeting, nothing out of the ordinary for a regular day at the bakery. It was calming, to work with the dough, taking virtually nothing and creating something delicious was soothing to her soul. She continued to knead the dough, working it like clay against her palms before the door to the back swung wide open.
â(Y/N), I do believe you have a visitor,â Harry, her second eldest brother smirked. He had finally recovered enough to help around the shop again, much to their motherâs delight. âOne of the gentlemen variety, if you must know.â Â
She stopped dead in her tracks.
âDid he give you a name?â
âOnly asked for you,â Harry shrugged. âI figured you mustâve been expecting him,â he walked closer to her, taking over the kneading, âbrought you flowers and looks rather fancy.â
She wiped her hands off on the already soiled apron, clapping her hands once for good measure. âDonât over-work those, Iâll shove your face into the oven.â
Harryâs laugh rang out through the kitchen as she braved the door to the store. She knew it was inevitable, to expect him to come and try to woo her again, though she wasnât expecting it so soon. The door felt rough against her palms, swinging wide open to the storefront. Sure enough, a one Benedict Bridgerton was standing by the counter, eyeing the various loaves on display.Â
âAh, Miss. (Y/L/N),â Benedict said, almost bowing. âIâm delighted you could join me.â
âMr. Bridgerton,â (Y/N) smiled sickeningly sweet, forced beyond all measure. âWhat a⌠surprise.â
âA wonderful one, I presume?â He jested. Her eyes found the colorful bouquet quickly, she was trying her hardest to not make eye contact. It was ornateâfancy, just like her brother saidâdecked out in a healthy mix of wild blooms and expensive looking flowers. âAh! My apologies, these are for you,â Benedict said, lifting the bouquet across the counter.Â
She reluctantly took them, cradling the bunch as if it were a newborn babe. âThank you, Mr. Bridgerton.â
He swallowed thickly at the formality of his name, but bit his tongue. âI must say, you looked exquisite at the ball, but I think your natural element suits you more favorably, why, youâre practically glowing.â Benedict pointed to her floured apron and messy frock, having been in the kitchen all morning. âLess flour than the first time.â
Her grip tightened around the bouquet. âIs there anything I can help you with? Perhaps another order for your mother?â
The man shook his head, laughing lightly. âNo, no order. I just wished to see you.â The bluntness of his answer nearly shocked her, but the effect wore quickly.
âPerhaps I wished the opposite?â
âOh, my dear,â Benedict practically mewled. âIf that were true, you wouldnât have come out here in the first place, now would you?â
Like a gaping trout, she had no reply. Perhaps he was right. She didnât have to come out to the front of the store, the gnawing curiosity got the better of her and practically pulled her through that door.Â
âIf you are here to try to get me to change my mindââ
âI wish to spend the afternoon with you.â
She blinked.
âJust one afternoon, allow me to try and prove how serious I am about courting you,â Benedict said earnestly. âAfter that, if you are still of the same mind, I will never bother you again. You have my word.â
Hesitantly, she lowered the bouquet, her shoulders slumping. She was thinking so hard about his offer, Benedict swore he could see steam rising from her ears. âI⌠cannot just leave the bakery, itâs my familyâs livelihoodââ
âIâll buy the lot,â Benedict said, pressing a handful of coins onto the counter top. âSell me whatever it is you make in a dayâa small price to pay for a moment of your time.â
âYou cannot simply throw your money at things and expect it to always work out for you, Mr. Bridgerton,â she said sternly, eyeing the sack of coins longingly. She would be kidding herself if the offer didnât sound appealing. âI am no woman on the corner, you cannot buy my time.â
âThen consider it a tip,â Benedict hummed, pushing the bag closer to her. âFor your excellent service at the Bridgerton ball. Nothing nefarious, nothing expected of you. Just a man buying some bread.â
âLoads of bread,â (Y/N) mumbled, quickly calculating how many loaves he truly was willing to walk out with. The amount of money was unclear, but if she had to wager, he practically bought out the whole storefront. Her parents would be thrilledâthey could even take a rare day off, just because their daughter spent the afternoon with a practical stranger. âFine. One afternoon.â
The glee that washed across his body did not go unnoticed, he practically lit up the room with his joy.
âYou wonât regret this,â he said seriously. âTrust that my intentions are pure andââ
ââhonest and true,â she droned, finishing his thought. âYes, yes, I understand.â
Benedict nodded. âRight. Well, shall we?â
âWill you allow me a moment to change? I do not think you wish to spend your day with a girl caked in flour.â
âFunny enough, I wouldnât have it any other way,â he grinned. She was unamused. âBut, if you insist.â
It didnât take long for her to clean up, a change in her frock and a readjustment to her hair was all that was needed. She found herself staring in her mirror a bit longer than usual, taking in her features. Could he really be interested in her? He seemed so taken by her looks when she herself considered them⌠so plain. She shook her head, effectively jumping out of her haze and proceeded to head back downstairs to meet her suitor for the afternoon.Â
âPerhaps you were right,â Benedict said softly. âThis may be your best look to date.â
A heat warmed her cheeks and it wasnât the summer sun. âFlattery will get you nowhere, Mr. BridgertonââÂ
âAh!â Benedict waved a finger. âIf we are to spend the afternoon together, I insist you call me by my given name.â
Her lips pressed together in protest. âIf you insistââ
âOh and I do, my darling,â Benedict nearly sang.
âBenedict,â she corrected. âWhat sorts of plans do you have for this afternoon? Surely you did not produce such a grand gesture only to leave our day up to chance.â
âI am feeling quite parched,â Benedict said, almost ignoring her comment. âCare for a spot of tea?â In their walk down the street, he had managed to stop right in front of a quaint little tea shop. She hardly noticed.
âAnd if I do not care for tea?â
âI hear they have excellent scones and biscuits,â Benedict countered. âSurely not sweeter than you, but delicious all the same.â
âSweeter than my scones, you mean?â
Benedict raised a brow, puckering his lips lightly. She heard him correctly the first time. âSo. Tea?â
They sat at a small table near the back of the shop, a hot pot of herbal tea sat between them. It looked entirely domestic, a pot of tea shared between lovers, any onlooker could have deduced as much.
âPass the honey?â (Y/N) pointed to the small jar next to Benedictâs hand. He nodded and pushed it closer to her.
âYou take your tea with honey?â He probed.
âHerbal tea, yes,â she confirmed, stirring a spoonful into her cup. âIf it is black tea, a healthy amount of milk is entirely welcomed in my drink, no sugar.â
âInteresting,â Benedict said, watching her intently stir the honey until it dissolved into the hot liquid. âI prefer plain black tea myself, though occasionally my brother Colin will bring exquisite teas from his travels across the seas.â
âAnd Colin is which brother?â The question slipped out quickly, she hardly noticed she had asked.
âOne of my two younger brothers,â Benedict smiled gently. âNot much younger than I, but I do have a few years on him, not as many as I have on Gregory, of course. Heâs practically the babe of the familyâsave for sweet Hyacinth.â
âEight childrenâŚâ She thought aloud. âWere your parents working towards a record number?â
âI always jest that they wished to complete the entire alphabet,â Benedict mused. âBut, alas, twenty six seems a bit much.â He took a sip of his tea, enjoying the lingering aroma. âSo, you know there are eight of us?â
âEveryone knows your family,â she said simply. âDo not flatter yourself.â
âOf course,â he hummed into his cup, a smile brewing from his lips. âYou have siblings, yes? I believe I met your brother earlier.â
âTwo older brothers,â (Y/N) groaned lightly. âJack and Harry, the latter being the one you met. They are⌠oh how do I put this? Exceptionally irritating.â
Benedict laughed into his drink. âSounds quite a lot like my siblings.â
âMy parents expect Jack to take over the bakery,â she explained quietly, her voice lowering. âBut he has no desire to bake whatsoever. He can hardly make a sponge cake.â
âAnd a sponge cake isâŚ?â
âOne of the most basic cake recipes a baker can learn,â she continued. âI usually end up being the one who pulls the slack Jack creates.â
âAnd Harry?â
âWhen he isnât galavanting across town with the ladies of the night, he is holed up in his room doing Lord knows what. Certainly nothing that helps the family business.â
âYou care a lot about your family and the business,â Benedict said, stating what is clearly the obvious. âSurely your parents see it too?â
âOh no,â she shook her head wildly. âThat is the most asinine part of the ordeal! They simply do not see me as an asset to the bakeryâsomething that should rightfully be mine should the time come.â She sighed, throwing her head into her hands. âBut, I am expected to keep my head down and decorate cakes like a good girl.â
âYou say that as if you are their pet,â Benedict scoffed lightly. âDo they truly expect such obedience from you?â
âI wasnât wanted,â she said simply. âMy parents merely wanted a son to take over the businessâJack, heâs the oldest. Good for nothing, as it turns out. Harry was to have an extra set of hands around the bakery, but now heâs their prodigal child. Me? I was shacked with an over glorified closet for a room because there truly was no space for me.â She sniffled. âAt least they got a decorator out of it.â
Benedict tentatively put his hand on her shoulder, giving her a reassuring squeeze. âYouâre more than a decorator. Surely your parents see that too?â
âTheyâll see some use of me when I get home,â she said into her cup. âSeeing as you bought out our store just to spend a measly few hours with me. Iâm sure that in of itself is worth having an accidental daughter.â
Benedict all but scoffed at this. âYou cannot be serious.â
âNot everyone comes from loving families that wish to do nothing more than pop out babies left and right,â (Y/N) deadpanned, placing her cup back on the table. âIf it were truly up to my parents, they wouldâve stopped after Jack. But, much like the society you come from, an heir and a spare, I suppose.â
âAnd you?â Benedict almost felt afraid to ask.Â
âItâs like you said,â she finished her cup of tea. âI am simply a pet.â
Benedict was never one for fights, but he suddenly had the urge to put his fist through a handful of faces in that moment. âThatâs awful.â It was all he could say.Â
âThatâs life,â she shrugged, picking up a biscuit and examining it closely. Her nose scrunched. âIf you were trying to gain my favor, perhaps you shouldâve taken me somewhere with better biscuits. Itâs insulting to a baker to see such poorly made ones, especially in a place like this.â
He knew she was trying to change the subject. âI shall do better next time.â
âYes, I suppose youââ she stopped. âThat was a rotten trick and you know it.â
âI am certainly no magician, (Y/N),â Benedict finished his tea, hiding the most devilish of smiles from behind the cup. âBut seeing as weâre finished with our pot, perhaps we can take a turn about the park?â
âYouâd risk public outcry and a scandal for being seen with a commoner in the park?â (Y/N) asked, pulling herself from her seat. âWhat would Lady Whistledown say?â
âYou know of Lady Whistledown?â
âEveryone knows of Lady Whistledown,â she scoffs. âI may not have the pleasure to afford her column every time she publishes, but occasionally our regulars will leave their pamphlet for me once theyâre finished.â
âOnly read the good bits, I take it?â
âAs much as I donât understand the world you come from, Benedict, reading Whistledown helps me fill the gaps I am so obviously lacking. Truly, even if I did grow up in your society, I doubt Iâd be able to understand much more than I do now anyway.â
âI reckon youâre right,â Benedict said, a laugh escaping through his nose. âIâm not one for society anywayânever cared much for it.â
âSurely news of this would cause a scandal, though?â
âNews that I am simply walking in the park with a friend? Oh how the newsboys will have trouble selling that story,â Benedict mused, leaning down towards the lady. âPerhaps if we were seen doing something less proper, I suppose. Do you wish to be doing something less proper, (Y/N)?â
She didnât dignify his question with a response, though, the rouge on her cheeks was answer enough.
â
It only took a handful of minutes to walk to the park, the tea shop was so close already. How convenient.
The other ladies in the park, the ones of a more genteel breeding, they were dressed finer than anything (Y/N) could have put on. She felt out of place. She usually did, of course, but something about her outdated frock in contrast to how striking Benedict looked and dressed? It felt rather foolish.Â
Perhaps it was the notoriety of the Bridgerton walking beside her, or the self consciousness of being underdressed enough to catch the eyes of anyone walking past, but it felt like she was a spectacleâsomething in a museum or on display. She was holding bright light, nearly shouting at everyone that she was not enough, not worthy to be in this park, let alone with this man.
âI am tired of walking,â (Y/N) said suddenly.Â
âWe have only just begun,â he laughed. âBut if you require a respiteââ
âLetâs sit,â (Y/N) said just as quickly, practically running to the edge of the pond. Perfectly out of sight to everyone.
âHow secluded,â Benedict mused. âI daresay, I never thought youâd be so agreeableââ
âHush,â (Y/N) admonished, holding a finger up. âI am simply in need of a breakâaway from prying eyes.â
Benedict nodded, not daring to pry further. He watched her slump to the ground, her dress skirt billowing around her like a cloud before settling to the gravity. He continued to stand. âI rather like this park.â
âA park is a park.â
âHave you been before?â
âHere?â She shook her head. âObviously not.â
âMy family, we would come to London during the social season,â Benedict explained. âOur usual residence is out in Kentâanyhow, my father had this spectacular notion to come to the park every week as a family. Looking back, it was probably to save face and show a united Bridgerton front.â
She looked up at Benedict, who was currently plucking a few leaves off of the low hanging branches of the tree. âSounds wise.â
âHe was the wisest,â Benedict agreed. âKeeping the ever-growing number of Bridgerton children entertained became a sport. Anthony, Colin and I were always squabbling, drove my mother rightfully insane, so, my father had a bright idea.â
âPaste your lips together?â She offered.Â
Benedict knelt down, close to the edge of the water. âNo, but I do not doubt that idea crossed their minds,â he laughed, bringing the leaves in his hands to view, âmy father suggested racing.â
âHorse racing?â
He shook his head. âWeâd each pick a leaf and follow it to the other edge of the pondâkept us entertained for hours, running back and forth to reset our leaves and chase them down.â
âSmart man,â she hummed, genuinely impressed by the late viscountâs cleverness.
âSo, pick your contender,â Benedict said softly, displaying the spare leaves like cards in a deck.Â
âYou are serious?â
âDead serious, Iâm afraid,â Benedict clicked, pushing his hand a bit closer to her. âCome on, humor me.â
She looked down at the leaves and back up at Benedict, his blue eyes rivaling the color of the pond. Taking an interest in the middle leafâit was the longest and skinniestâshe plucked it from his fingers. âThis one.â
âExcellent choice,â Benedict said cheerily, dropping the other leaves. âI am more inclined to a smaller oneâseems they move faster down the shore.â
âSize isnât everything, Mr. Bridgerton,â (Y/N) crossed her arms, resting them on her knees. She would never dare to admit it out loud, but she was having a bit of fun.
âAh, perhaps not,â Benedict jested with her, her jab not even shocking him in the slightest. âBut, I reckon it will be a close match regardless.â
After insuring that the lovely lady in his company was watching his movements closely, he set the leaves down on the surface of the water. âFinish line is by that tree over there,â he pointed, finally letting go with his other hand.
âMay the best leaf win,â she giggled. Giggled? Good Lord. A crooked grin cracked on his face, focused too intently at the company rather than the match at hand. âAre you not going to chase them?â
âAnd leave you?â He scoffed. âPerish the thought.â
âI just thought,â her gaze was caught on the leaves, still floating down the edge of the pondâslower than she anticipated, âwell, I suppose I wanted to get the whole picture of your family tradition.â
âShall I run along the coast, then?â Benedict asked playfully, rising back to his feet, thumb pushed towards the water.Â
âOnly to humor me,â she shrugged, not even fighting the smile on her face.Â
âWell, in that case,â Benedict began to remove his jacket, throwing it beside her. With a light jog he caught up to the leaves, they hadnât gone very far anyway, perhaps if it were a windier day heâd have a faster time to keep up with. âYou are in the lead!â He called out.Â
âBrilliant!â Her hands were clasped around her mouth, a cone to help amplify her shout. His smile was like the sun, warm and invitingâshe wished she could spend the day in such a warmth. Benedict practically jumped for joy when the leaves made it to the final stretch, crossing to the rocks on the shore. Nearly falling into the water, he managed to scoop the leaves up and jog back to the woman in the grass. âWell?â
âWell, what?â He asked, nearly out of breath, smile still pulling his lips upward.Â
âThe winner?â
âAh,â he fell to the ground, sitting comfortably next to the bakerâs daughter, pocketing the leaves. âA secret.â
âSo you lost?â
âOh, I assure you, if you won I would be celebrating you until the end of our time together,â Benedict sang. âHoweverâŚâ
âI lost?â She scoffed.Â
âA gentleman is humble in his successes,â he explained carefully. âWe could go again?â
âNo,â she said, humor in her voice. âI think that was more than enough excitement for one afternoon.â
âFor once, we agree,â he said. âMay IâŚ? Could I ask you a question?â
âIf you are proposing marriage, I am afraid Iâll have to declineââ
âNo, no,â he laughed heartily. âNothing of that sort.â
âI suppose I could find it in myself to answer a different question, then.â
âYou were cold to me this morning,â Benedict noted, twirling a blade of grass between his fingers. âBut not on the day we met. What changed?â
She sighed, pulling her knees to her chest, gaze locked out on the now setting sun. âI⌠am not entirely sure.â
âSurely it was not the leavesââ
âThe leaves may have helped,â she admitted. âHumanized you, in a way.â
âWas I inhuman before?â
âNaturally,â she retorted. âI mean, is it not obvious?â
âYou were protecting your feelings,â Benedict finally realized. âAll this time. You did not wish to be hurtâtruly afraid I was merely stringing you along as an elaborate prank or ruse? Is that right?â
âHow could someone like you ever have an interest in a pauper like me? The bakerâs daughter and the son of a viscount?â Tears dotted her eyes, threatening to fall. How she came so close to crying was beyond her. âIt seems implausible.â
Benedict dropped the grass, fully looking at the lady beside him. She had made herself nearly as small as she felt. He had hit the nail on the head. A gust of wind blew by, bringing leaves down from the tree above.Â
âI do not think less of you because of whose daughter you are,â Benedict said softly, removing a stray leaf from her hair. His fingers guided her head towards him, begging for her to look his way. âI care only about you. Getting to know you. Frankly, your father seems like a mostly alright man, but I do not wish to know him the way I wish to know you.â
âYou may wish for that,â she sniffled. âBut what would the rest of your world think? You, trying to court a woman below your statusââ
âThe only people who should be caring so deeply about my potential courtship are my intended and me,â Benedict said sharply. âThe rest of the ton can frankly kiss my rear end.â
This raised a laugh out of her. It was bubbly and pure, almost like the one of a child. âYou truly donât care what people think about you?â
âNo,â he shook his head. âI do not.â
âHow freeing that must be,â she said.Â
âBeing the second son has its perks,â Benedict looked at her, really looked at her. âNo one expects me to be proper all the time. I am given the freedomâfinancially and otherwiseâto do as I please. I do not have to worry about inheriting a title, siring heirs, that is my brotherâs responsibility.â
âWhy me?â
His head quirked. âI do not understand?â
âYou could court any girl of the ton,â she said. âAnd I am sure more than half of them would never turn down a chance to be courted by a Bridgertonââ
âThey wished for the title,â Benedict sighed. âTo be Viscountess Bridgerton, to marry my older brother and have the notoriety. That ship has already sailed, I'm afraid. You are kind in thinking that many women would be after me though.â
âYou are not ugly,â she listed, âyou have a great humor about you, a pleasant demeanor and a kindness in your eyes. The women of the ton must be foolish, then.â
âPerhaps the foolish one is you?â
âI beg your pardon?â
âYou truly think those things about me?â He asked, awaiting a response. Her jaw was slack, clearly not about to give him any sort of confirmation to his question. âI believe your words, I do. But perhaps you should look at yourself with such eyes?â
âI-I donât understandââ
âOur class differences aside,â Benedict said, as if it was easy to just ignore that, âwhile I was taken by your beauty at firstâyour eyes are something the Gods themselves forged in the fires, stars rivaling their shineâit was your continuous personality that kept my attention. Granted, it helped you were once covered head-to-toe in flour, it really brought out your features.â
Her cheeks flared at the recollection of their first meeting. âIt was not my finest moment.â
âAnd you were vulnerable all the same,â he continued. âYou cared not for who I was, yet, you showed an interest in me anyway. You may not agree with that statement, but you and I know it to be true in some shape or form. The only thing that holds you back is this notion on our classesââ
âPerhaps I am interested in you,â (Y/N) cut him off. âPerhaps I wish to be courted by you, attend balls and dress in pretty gowns, drinking expensive drinks and whispering sweet nothings. But that is all that it isâa wish. I know my place in this world, it is a right shame you have such a fantasy about yours.â
â(Y/N)âŚâ
âNo,â she stood up, brushing the blades of grass and leaves off of her skirt. âI hoped that you would understand, Benedict. I agreed to this afternoon because it felt like I had no choice in the matterâyou practically bought my time, after all. What I did not expect,â she hiccuped, âI did not expect that I would enjoy such an afternoon.â
âYou enjoyed yourself,â Benedict rose to his feet, desperate to match her gaze head on. âWhy can you not allow yourself to have that joy? Allow your heart to follow its call?â
âI do not have such liberties to listen to my heart,â (Y/N) said softly. âI must use my head for every choice I make. An afternoon with you allowed my family to have enough money to make it through the end of the season without going hungryââ
âAnd an afternoon with me has brought such happiness to fill your soul for much longerââ
âHappiness has little importance,â she scoffed. âI would rather see my family healthy and surviving than even think about a notion like happiness or joy.â
âYou have said yourself that your family treats you like a pet,â Benedict took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. He neednât explode in the park. âWhy do you care so much about them if they care so little for you?â
âBecause it is all that I know!â The candle had finally reached its end, burning out with a sizzle. âAll I have ever known is my life in the bakery, rising early to make the dough, peddling samples to those walking by and hopingâprayingâthat they step in our store and purchase something. Because a sale of a few loaves of bread or cakes meant we could afford to buy vegetables for a soup, something to eat with our days old bread.â
âIf you were with me, you wouldnât ever need to think about things like that again,â Benedict said, his voice wavering on a whisper. âI could support you, support your family.â
âAnd that is precisely why I do not wish to continue this,â she raised her finger. âI do not need an affluent man to come and save meââ
âBut I could helpââ
âI do not need your help!â
âYou obviously do!â
She took a step back, the tears from before finally reappearing in her eyes. âO-obviously? Because I am of a lower class you believe, in that giant and empty head of yours, that you can simply win my favor by saving me? Offering riches and experiences that I should be grateful and thanking every God that will listen that you are even willing to give me?â
âYou know that is not what I meantââÂ
âYou believe that because you are who you are, and I am who I am, that I couldnât possibly say no to you,â her gaze flicked with anger, a fire looming. âWhile the ladies of the ton have their choices, I do not, so it makes it easy for you to pine over someone who simply has no choice in the matter.â
âNoâ(Y/N)ââ Â
âThis afternoon has been lovely,â (Y/N) spat, looking to the skylineâthe sun had finally set, âbut I am afraid that the afternoon is over. I shall be taking my leave.â
âPlease reconsider,â Benedict begged, willing to try anything to get her to stay. âI wish to know you.â
âA shame, then,â (Y/N) said, turning around. âWishing for something so foolish.â
â
âHer head is in the clouds,â Jack whispered.
âNo, I reckon her head is in the dough,â Harry mumbled back to his brother.Â
âI can hear you, you know,â (Y/N) ground out, working hard on a rather unruly clump of dough that simply would not cooperate. âAnd if I can hear you, you are close enough to be helping.â
âBut that is so exhausting," Harry groaned, leaning against the countertop. âBesides, how are you ever going to impress your betrothed if you do not keep such toned arms?â
She threw the dough against the counterâhard. âHe is not my betrothed.â
âBut you wish for him to be, no?â Jack giggled, playing with a few burnt bunsâa mishap of his own creation.
âI say, Sister,â Harry said. âWhy do you not pursue that Bridgerton? He clearly is interested in you, or, have you forgotten all of the flowers he has sent?â
The front of the shop was practically a floristâs dreamâcovering every free inch of counter space with beautiful bouquets. Her mother simply refused to throw out such lovely blooms, even going so far as to fish the first one out of the trash after her daughter made quick work to dispose of it. âHow could I possibly forget about the man who continuously flaunts his wealth to get what he wants?â
âHe wants you, surely that is not lost on you?â
âOf course not,â she continued to knead, a few hairs falling into her face. âBut he is so insistent on getting me to agree to his whims simply becauseââ
âHe has money, (Y/N),â Jack scoffed. âGood money. Christ, you spent half of a day with him a few weeks ago and we were able to finally purchase meat for dinner. Imagine if you married himââ
âSo you want your sister to be married off for your own financial gain?â
âWhat else would you marry for?â Harry laughed. âLove?â
She stopped kneading. âWhy do you not go and try to marry a wealthy lady, then? Hm? Surely a woman of genteel breeding would be much taken by the idea of a rugged bakerââ
âThat Bridgerton is already interested,â Harry shrugged. âAt the very least, if you end up with child he would provide enough fundsââ
âFirst you wish to marry me off, now you wish for me to have his bastard?â She couldnât help but laugh, ignoring her hard work on the counter. âWhy can I not make my own choice? I do not wish to be with Mr. Bridgerton, I wish to stay here at the bakery.â
âFucking stupid,â Jack scoffed. âIf I were in your shoes, I would let the gentleman pay for anything my heart desiresâforget about this wretched place and move on with my life.â
âAnd abandon our legacy?â
âYou mean my legacy,â Jack corrected. âI am to inherit the bakery, it is my birthright. You? I suppose I will allow you to continue your grunt work hereââÂ
âWho else will do the baking?â Her voice rang throughout the kitchen. âMother and Father are nearing the end of their career, both becoming too frail to continue with the rigorous task of this place. I am the only oneâthe only competent member of this family who can keep this shit afloat! And you want me to just⌠give that up?â
Jack stood a little straighter. âIt was never your place.â
âHarry is set to inherit the bakery now, you know it. Yet someone had to fill the shoes of the family fuck-up instead, no?âÂ
It was a sharp pain, suddenly and all at once against her cheek. It took her only half a second later to realize what had happened, her other brotherâs face was only a confirmation on the fact.
âJack, what the hell?!â Harry practically screamed. âYou hit her?â
âShe insulted me!â
âYou deserved it,â Harry said, pushing his older brother back. âShe only spoke the truthââ
âSo I am allowed to be walked over by my baby sister?â Jack scoffed, pushing Harry back. âA woman? No fucking chance, mate.â
Her hand had covered her cheek, already feeling warm to the touch. Everything was too much, too loud, too bright. She had to get out of there, had to forget all about the dough on the counter, forgetting all about the brother who had just smacked her silly. The back door wasnât lockedâno surprise as Jack was the last one to use itâmaking it easy for her to push into the alleyway and into the rain.Â
Rain.Â
Pelting like bullets, the wet drenched her clothing in a mere instant, making it harder to escape. Where had she planned to run anyway? She had nowhere to go, her entire world was contained to the four walls of the bakery, never daring to explore the rest of it, not when her world was already so encompassing, so inviting.Â
In theory, anyway, it seemed.
So, she ran. A mix of running and walking, she kept moving forward. By the time she left her part of town, she knew her brothers would not bother coming for her. The rain alone was a deterrent, even Harry, the one who loved her more, wouldnât dare to brave the elements just to reel his sisterâs whims in.Â
A splotch of purple entered her vision. How long had she been moving? Did she even expect to come here? Did her subconscious send her in this direction for a reason?
She knocked on the bright door before she could find out.
âGood evening, maâam,â a butter said politely. âWhat business do you have?â
âI am here to call upon Benedict Bridgerton.â
â
His quill had soaked the parchment below with ink, having left the tip upon it for far too long. He had been lost in thought, contemplative, especially the last few weeks. Benedict knew he had hurt her, had insulted her very being, yet he still tried. Every other day heâd send a fresh bouquet to the bakery, a new poem attached to the stems. Perhaps she read them? He knew it was more likely that she burned them, in the ovens or otherwise.Â
At the very least, he knew that the blooms were being displayed at the shop. Hope. That is what it had given him.
âMr. Bridgerton, you have a caller,â a butler knocked, opening his door a crack wider.
âA caller? In this weather?â
âShe seemed rather insistent,â the butler shrugged. âShe is waiting in the drawing roomâI already sent for tea and towels for the lady.â
âA lady is here to see me?â Benedict quirked his brow.
âA Miss. (Y/L/N),â the butler said. âNo calling card, soaked to the bone and she seemed a bit⌠out of sorts.â
Benedict had already risen from his desk, practically pushing past the staff member to reach the stairs. Missing a step or two, he made it to the drawing room and shoved the door open. In the center of the blue room was (Y/N), dripping onto the wooden floor, shaking like a leaf.
â(Y/N)âŚâÂ
âI-I had nowhere else to go,â she began to explain. âI did not even realize I was here until I knocked on the door. It was foolishââ
âNo,â Benedict shook his head, reaching to take her hand in his own. âIt is quite alright. You are more than welcome to be here.â
His hands were warm, or perhaps she was just that cold, making them feel like a fire. âI am so sorry, Benedict.â
âFor what?â He asked genuinely.Â
âEverything?â She offered. âI-I am not sure of what, exactly, but I feel that I need to apologize.â
âYou neednât apologize for anything,â he said. âNot with me, not ever.â
She looked up at the ceiling, afraid to make contact with his blue stare. âI needed to get away. My brother heâJack hit me.â
Benedict froze, his entire body went rigid. âIâll kill him.â
âI suppose I deserved it,â she shrugged, now looking at the ground. âTalking back to him, assuming things that could never beââÂ
âA man has assaulted you,â Benedict squeezed her hand tighter. âBrother or not, he put his hands on you. You did nothing of the sort to deserve such a thing.â
âI donât think I can go back there,â (Y/N) said softly. âPerhaps this was just the moment that gave me clarity. Opened my eyes, so to speak.â
Benedict took a good look at her face, red and splotchy, whether it was from the smack or the tears, he could not tell. âTea is on the way, I shall request a cold compress for your cheekââ
âI do not wish to impose.â
âYou shall wish for nothing here,â Benedict said quietly, firmly. âYou will stay until the rain lets up, or, you provide me with a suggestible plan for your next steps.â
âI cannot go back,â she finally looked up at Benedict. âAs much as I would like to, I simply cannot.â
âIf you do not want to go back, I will support you. If you want to leave town, the country even, I will support you,â he said seriously. âPlease allow me to support you.â
âI could never ask you for thatââ
âYou are not asking, I am offering,â he clarified.Â
âBenedictâŚâ
The rain seemed to lessen, if the pelting against the window had anything to say about it. The noise had dimmed, not as violent as before. âTo know that you are safe, that you are cared for, that is all I care about.â
So, in the center of the blue Bridgerton drawing room, soaked to the bone and dripping all over the floor, she kissed him. It was a sudden thing, pulling him down towards her lips, the contact much quicker than she had expected. He returned the favor in kind, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight, kissing her in a way he had yet to truly experience.Â
If his hands were like a fire, his lips were an inferno. Fighting for dominance, it was all encompassing. How had she gone so long without a feeling such as this? The burn was coming from inside, not a superficial one atop her skin as she was quite used to, but this burn, this feeling, she could find herself craving this.Â
âI-I am sorryââ she pulled away.
âNever be sorry,â Benedict shook his head. âNot for that, not ever.â
âI should not have done thatâŚâ
âNo,â he agreed, a chuckle leaving his lips, âbut how exhilarating it felt, regardless.â
His thumb ran lazy circles on her jaw. She leaned into the touch. âI do not know what to do, where to goâŚâ
âBut you cannot stay hereâŚ?â
She smiled sadly. âYou know me scarily well, Benedict.â
He thought for a moment. âSo⌠leave.â
âExcuse me?â
âLeave town, leave the countryââ
âI do not have the means to do such a silly thing.â
âI will pay your way.â
She scoffed, trying to pull out of his embrace. He wouldnât release his grip. âBenedictâŚâ
âI told you, I wish to support you. Emotionally, financially, I want to be there for you,â Benedict said. âEven if we are notâif you do not want to be together romantically, I want to ensure your safety and your health, your well-being. A friend.â
She tried to find the lie in his eyes, in his tone. Coming up empty, she had no excuse to not believe him.Â
âFrance,â he said, as if struck by lightning.
âFrance?â
âI hear only the expert bakers study in FranceâI have no doubts you could go to learn,â he explained. âI could pay for your travel, housing, you name it. Ask for it, and it is yours.â
âI doubt anyone would want to teach a woman, no matter how lovely a thought it might be.â
âI have a cousin,â Benedict explained. âHer and her husband own a cafĂŠâI am quite certain that they would love to hire an expert baker to add to their inventory and menu. You could earn your own income, make your own way. A fresh start.â
âA fresh startâŚâ she repeated. âThat sounds too good to be true.â
âI shall write to her in the morning,â Benedict said, holding her hands again.Â
âAnd youâŚ?â
âI will only come with you if you want me to join,â Benedict said slowly. âI will not trap you. I want your happiness, your freedom.â
She nodded, understanding.
âI think France sounds nice,â she smiled. âWill you write to me?â
âEvery chance I get.â
âEven if you are vexed with me?â
âEspecially if I am vexed with you.â
She kissed his lips again, sweeter and softer than the first time.
âSounds perfect.â
â
A year. An entire year had passed and she couldnât recall a happier time in her life. The only time that something could have rivaled it was a visit to a tea shop followed by a respite by a pondâin handsome company all the while.Â
They kept correspondence, just like they promised. Every week came a new letter, a new story to be told by the poetic Benedict Bridgerton. She tried to rival his words, explaining every detail about France, about her new life, but something was nagging. She missed him. They had grown close over the correspondence, leaving her heart wanting more. But, she knew when she left for France it was to fulfill her dreams, leaving a foolish notion like love on the back burner.
â(Y/N),â Marie, the Bridgerton cousin, called out behind her. âWe are in need of more buns.â
âI just restocked the buns,â (Y/N) giggled, turning to the blonde. âWhat? Has someone mysteriously bought the lot?â
âOui,â Marie said with a jest, heading into the storage room, âperhaps you should go bring more out?â
âYou are in luck, the last batch just finished resting from the oven,â she said, carrying a tray on her shoulder, âI will bring them out with haste.â
âI am sure he will appreciate it.â
(Y/N) faltered, hand already pressed to the door leading to the front shop. A tingle ran through her spine, her heart picking up to a freeing flutter.Â
Could it be?
âYou know, I would buy your entire stock,â the man hummed, looking thoughtfully into the display case, âbut I fear I would be recreating a rather taxing memory for the both of us.â
âBenedict,â she gasped, nearly dropping her tray.Â
âYou look radiant,â he mused, that wicked grin of his breaking on his face. âMuch like the first time I saw youâcovered in flour.â
âI am in my element,â (Y/N) said sweetly, âjust as you would expect.â She had noticed that Marie and her husband were not in the cafĂŠ, the sign flipped to close. âYou planned this.â
âDo you insinuate that I bribed my distant cousin to close her cafĂŠ to give you the day off, travel all the way to France, hoping I could spend the day with you?â Benedict scoffed playfully. âYou truly do not know me at all.â
âI do not think Marie would take a bribe,â (Y/N) said slyly, knowing how much of a champion the cousin had been for the baker and viscountâs son to get together.
âShe refused payment,â he admitted, agreeing with her notion. âBut, was ever eager to see you get out of the kitchen and enjoy yourself.â
âYou hadnât written to me in two weeks,â (Y/N) said, walking around the counter. âI was worried.â
âI needed to refrain from our correspondence, I fear I would have let the surprise slip otherwise.â
âSmart man,â she hummed.
âI am known to be smart occasionally,â he shrugged.
âWhat are you doing here?â She finally asked. âN-not that I am not happy to see you, of course, but as you had said, this is a surprise.â
âI came to study art,â Benedict said, a hand in his coat pocket. âI felt that if I truly wanted to learn the craft, I needed to learn from the mastersâmany of their works are housed here in France. I even began to rent a little home in town, finding the need to stay a while.â
âThat is the only reason?â
Benedictâs gaze softened. âOf course it is not the only reason.â
Her heart fluttered again.
âIt is only fair that I try this again, correctly and without the prying eyes of society, this time,â Benedict said, clearing his throat and spinning around.
âCorrectly?â She giggled, watching him twirl to face the door.
âAh, good morning miss!â Benedict said, turning back to face (Y/N). âI must say, you look ever-so-prettyâtell me, do all bakers have a beauty such as your own?â
âI would wager no,â she said, trying to keep serious. âMost of the bakers around here are men.â
âShame. Might I learn your name? It seems only fairâI fear I might just die if I do not know the sweet sound of it.â
â(Y/N),â she sang. âMy name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N).â
âBenedict Bridgerton,â he stretched out his hand, reaching for her own. She allowed him to take it, a soft kiss was placed on the back of her cracked handâa working hand, one that she was proud to have.Â
âYou are very charming, Mr. Bridgerton,â she hummed, looking deeply into his blue eyes. âPleased to make your company.â
âI assure you, I am more pleased to be in yours,â Benedict insisted, kissing her hand again. âTell me, do you have plans this afternoon?â
âIt seems my schedule has cleared up,â she looked to the sign on the door and sighed. âWhy? Do you have any suggestions on how I should spend it?â
âMight we take a turn around the park? A friend of mine has written to me about just how lovely one nearby is, I reckon I would like to see it for myself.â
She smiled brightly at him, as if he held the world in his hands. Instead, he held two leaves between his fingersâbrown and cracked, but clearly treated with such care. They had been the same ones from their time at the park the first go around, she was nearly certain. Why else would he bring dead leaves with him?
"Leaves?"
"You see, my family, we have this tradition of racing with leavesâI would very much like to share it with you. These two in particular seem to be very lucky, thought it would be best to bring them along."
His smile melted her heart, endearing and thoughtful in the same breath. She could get used to a smile like that.
âWell⌠what are we waiting for, Mr. Bridgerton?â
#benedict bridgerton#bridgerton#benedict bridgerton x reader#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton imagines#this is a doozy and i am sorry#but only a little bit!!!
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As I'm replaying Dragon Age: Origins and Dragon Age 2 and Dragon Age: Inquisition, I'm going to use the conversation toolkit each time and in each area that Elven is used in the series.
I've already found several bits of elven that are not on the wiki at all. And for many of the text that never had a translation before, there are translations in the localization comments.
I did a poll on twitter asking people if they thought this was good enough evidence to update the elven wiki, and got a 99% yes answer, so I updated the dragon age elven wiki, with an explanation in the /talk section. (Anyone can open Origins dialogue tree files in the DA Toolkit and see that these translated comments are in their own version of Origins)
All of this to say, we finally can say we know the canon words for "mother" and "no" and "brother" and "sister" in elven in Dragon Age. And several new long phrases.
Ghostly Boy in the Lair of the Undead in Dragon Age: Origins
"Mamae? Mamae na mara sanâŚ" VO/Localization Comment: the young boy is crying pitifully, he asks "mah-MAY?" in a hopeful manner and then says "mah-MAY nah-MAH-rah san" hoplessly (as if saying "mother is gone")
"Mamae! Mamae, se vara sal!" VO/Localization Comment: phonetically: mah-MAY! mah-MAY! suh VAH-rah sawl! he is calling out for his mother as he says this, crying pitifully
"Mamae! Mamae! Mamae!" VO/Localization Comment: The child begins calling out in a strange language for someone. He begins to sob uncontrollably and shouts louder. "mah-MAY" = mother
shade in the Lair of the Undead in Dragon Age: Origins
"Ma halani! Se vara lassa'val! Nae mal!" VO/Localization Comment: the elf is caling for help, terrified, and then screams and calls on her gods to save her. phonetic breakdown: mah hah-LAWN-ee! suh VARE-ah luh-suh-VAHL! nay mahl! The last phrase "nay mahl" should be shrieked in terror as the elf turns and run
ghostly elf in the Lair of the Undead in Dragon Age: Origins
"Viran se lan'aan? Ir annala for rosâŚ" VO/Localization Comment: "Who are you? I cannot see youâŚ" veer-AHN suh lah-NAWN? Eer ah-NAH-lah fohr rohs⌠said hesitantly -- she cannot quite make out the player
"Nae! Ga rahn s'dael! Ga rahn!" VO/Localization Comment: "No! Get away from me! Get away!" Nay! Gah rawn suh-DALE! Gah rawn! Suddenly realizes that the player is an enemy, terrified, backed into a corner
"Ir emah'la shal! Ir emah'la shal!" VO/Localization Comment: "I will kill you! I will kill you!" eer ay-MAY-la shahl! eer ay-MAY-la shahl! she turns on the player in terror, savagely attacking him (combat begins)
#Dragon Age#Dragon Age: Origins#playing DAO#elf hell#inquisition spelunking#this is how I'm replaying Dragon Age#there's also a mention of Mythal being a god of vengeance in the comments too .... hmmm
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HEART OF A WOMAN. i put the blame on me for giving you chance after chance ⌠itâs my mind and my soul versus your pride.
00, PROLOGUE. AND THIS IS JUST THE INTRO.
ju speaks. finished this quicker than expected so thank you to that anon for getting me on it early LOL. find the masterlist link to all parts on my blog. lmk your thoughts! pairing. wnba!paige bueckers x fem!oc. warnings. language, angst, toxicity, cheating, etc ⌠general warning!
flashback, april, 2025.
paige: i love you 3:49am
nailea: ?
i love you too
is everything good?
read 4:02am
paige: yeah iâm good baby
missing you ao baD
paige edited a message: missing you
nailea: iâll see you so soon
iâm sorry i couldnât make it today
iâm really proud of you
read 4:09am
youâd think by now iâd be numb to it. that iâd learned the scriptâmemorized the lines, the rhythm of it. but as i sit here, scrolling through her saved chats with her, i donât feel numb. i feel fucking dumb.
itâs not even the months i spent doubting her, the nights iâd start an argument because i just knew she was lying, only for her to stare at me with those wide, innocent eyes and make me feel like the problem. no. itâs knowing that three nights ago, when she texted me after the game, telling me she loved me, that she missed meâthat wasnât real. that was just her guilt talking, a cheap cover-up. because that night, after winning her precious championship, paige found someone else to help her celebrate. and all because i couldnât be there.
i donât even have it in me to appreciate the short time she wasnât doing anything behind my back. weâd had a conversation, a serious one, and it was enough for a bit. but thereâs pictures, videos, a few from that night, and i feel sick.
the door opens behind me, and i barely flinch.
âyo, i forgot myââ my bloodshot eyes meet hers, still holding onto the faintest trace of a smile. she has to notice iâve been crying. has to see what sheâs done.
itâs only been ten minutes. the breakfast spotâs close, maybe two blocks. she mustâve turned around. guilt? instinct? doesnât matter now.
ânai.â
i glance down at her open phone, and so does she. i canât see her reaction, but iâm sure itâs anything but pleasant. âoh, i canât even fucking look at you,â i spit, letting out a breathy laugh as i push myself to stand, heading towards the door.
before i can even take a step, sheâs in full defense mode. paige tosses her keys onto the bed with a clatter, closing the door behind her, planting herself firmly in front of it like sheâs ready to block my any attempt to walk out. âyouâre not leavin,â bro. hold on.â she furrows her eyebrows, mumbling more to herself as she pulls me away by my arm. quite effortlessly might i add, i couldnât really fight it.
âmove, paige,â i demand. i just want out. want to be anywhere she isnât.
ânah, weâre gonna talk. sit your ass down.â
âabout what?â i laugh, cold and bitter, as i wipe my face again. sheâs stupid for thinking iâll listen to anything she says now, i know that much. âabout how you played in my face, yet again? how you kept telling me to trust you when i knew better? or maybe weâll talk about how the second i wasnât here, you went right back to her.â
she wasnât special. she isnât. iâm sure paige doesnât even know her middle name. she was just⌠there. someone to sex her up the way i couldnât from across the country. it wasnât like we didnât see each other every chance we had, but iâll be damned to let her live a double life. i wish i wasnât so in deep.
paige steps forward, her hand reaching for mine, eyes softening in some pathetic attempt at damage control. âlook, it was one night, alright? it was a mistake, nai, you gotta chill.â
chill.
i yank my hand back. âhow many times does one night happen with you, huh?â i squint. âbecause this isnât just one mistake, paige. this is you, every time.â the word tastes sour, and i spit it right back at her.
iâm not a doormat. iâm not one of the girls paige bueckers happened to pick up on her way to the top. i was here from the very beginning, and i couldnât fathom how that wasnât enough for her. all you could ever want is to grow into love with someone, but paige and i only go backwards, and i donât think iâm capable of sitting around and letting that happen anymore.
paigeâs mouth twists, some shadow of remorse thatâs barely visible as she shifts from foot to foot. her hairâs still tousled from last night, strands falling across her forehead, a disheveled mess that somehow makes her look both beautiful and utterly wrecked. it makes my stomach turnâhow iâd been unknowingly in the same spot as another girl just a few days ago, her hands roaming through that same hair, leaving their mark where mine should have been.
âlet me get it right this time then.â paigeâs head tilts back slightly, her eyes locked onto mine with an intensity thatâs almost hypnotic, like sheâs daring me to believe her, to give her yet another chance. i hesitate, against all logic, caught up in her. for a second, the anger knots itself up, caught in my throat, tangled in the remnants of whatever feelings she hasnât managed to destroy.
we just stand there, inches apart, eyes locked, her breath barely steady, mine coming in tight and shallow. her hand lifts again, just slightly, as if sheâs about to reach for me again, and i feel that familiar pullâlike iâm right on the edge of giving in, of letting her words undo the mess sheâs made.
my eyes glance down at her phone in my hand, and i canât help but think about how sick i am of fucking words.
before i can second-guess myself, my hand jerks forward, and i launch her phone across the room. it skids across the floor, clattering against the wall, and she turns at the sound, head lolling against the door.
paigeâs hand slides down her face as she lets out a low, humorless chuckle, her shoulders slumping back. her gaze flicks from her phone again, undamaged but undeniably thrown by an angry girlfriend ex, and then back to me, all narrowed. âyou throwinâ my shit now?â
âfetch it. matter factâŚâ paigeâs mouth opens, then closes as she watches me rip her oversized tee off like itâs some dirty rag. the shirt hits her chest and slides down to the floor, and she just stands there, staring at it with her jaw clenched so tight i can practically hear her grinding her teeth. âyou can take all your shit back with it. iâm done,â i seethe.
paige looks back up, scoffing. âoh, youâre done?â
i turn on my heel, making my way to my suitcase. paige doesnât move as i fall to my knees, throwing one of my own shirts over my head. iâm packing my things up frantically, silently, and i can tell it makes her feel unsettled.
âyouâre not leaving, nailea.â she doesnât sound so sure of herself now, and that only makes me move quicker.
i sniffle, even though iâm way past being sad over this. âiâll stay with az until i can catch a flight. and iâll ship all your stuff to storrs once iâm back.â iâm declaring my plan out loud, though iâm sure the mounds of her belongings thatâve accumulated in my apartment over the years is the last thing on her mind.
but then she moves, steps around the suitcase, stopping me with a quiet urgency, her fingers reaching toward my face. i pull back instinctively, turning my head, but she follows, her hands slowly cupping my head, steadying me as if iâm the one slipping. âpaige, stop.â i mutter, shrugging my shoulders, trying to shake her off. but her fingers tighten, her eyes softer, pleading.
âcâmonâŚâ she whispers. and then, slowly, she sinks down to her knees, meeting me there, her eyes desperately searching mine.
i swallow, hard, stopping my movements. âquitââ
âlemme fix it.â she mumbles, the words laced with something i canât decipher, something that mightâve been real if it didnât come too late.
i look up, and for the first time, i see something that almost looks like panic in her eyes. her thumb is focused on tracing the tear streaks on my cheek, and i have to force myself to think about why theyâre there in the first place. because of her.
i donât give her a chance to say another word. âyou shouldâve thought about that before there was anything to fix,â i say softly.
i turn away, reaching to grip the zipper of my suitcase. the metallic sound rips through the quiet, and itâs the finality of it that makes it feel like the right choice, like i actually just let go.
but with paige, nothing ever stays that simple, that clean.
#paige bueckers#paige bueckers x oc#paige bueckers fanfiction#paige bueckers fic#paige bueckers uconn#paige bueckers smut#lgbtq fanfiction#lgbtqia#wlw fanfic#wlw blog#wlw smut#paige bueckers x female oc#paige bueckers x fem#uconn wbb#paige bueckers blog#wlw fiction
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Elevators are deadly traps
Wandanat x reader
Plot: You and your girlfriends get trapped in the elevator but the heat makes you faint and Wanda is not the biggest fan of small, enclosed spaces.
TW: fainting, panic attack
You never believed that drinking water was so necessary; you were never a big drinker and although Wanda always told you, nay, begged you, to drink at least the necessary amount you never listened to her but maybe you should have today.
You watch the busy streets of New York, listening to Natasha and Wanda talk while your eyes don't leave for a moment the view that lurks outside the window of the expensive car that only the black widow, of the three of you, dares to drive; you've never even been a great driver...Let alone drive a car that costs two hundred thousand dollars in the busiest city in the world.
The 93 F makes the asphalt scorching, much more than usual; it is so hot that the air ripples from the heat, distorting the images that pass before your eyes.
Natasha turns right and the Avengers tower enters your view, towering over all the buildings around it. It is not the most beautiful building in New York, contrary to what Tony likes to think, but it is definitely the one that makes you feel the safest.
âIs everything okay malyshka?â Natasha looks at you from the mirror, raising her sunglasses for a few seconds to get a better look at you.
âYes Nat.â
You lean forward, ending up between the two seats and leaving a kiss on the cheek first to the former spy and then to the Sokovian who turns around at the exact moment you turn toward her to receive a real kiss.
âHey, that's not fair. Next time one of you will drive.â
Natasha moans, giving you a weak elbow in the side that makes you and Wanda pull away.
âOh come on Nat, you'll be rewardedâ Wanda smiles mischievously, letting her hand slide down the blonde's thigh.
You sit back down, giving them an amused look but as you do so, dizziness makes you close your eyes for a few seconds. Apparently the heat has affected you more than you thought since you've risen just a couple of inches.
âDetka?â
Wanda turns to you, her head tilted slightly to the side as she is wont to do when the Sokovian is angry or worried.
âYes?â
You open your eyes, smiling as if the nausea isn't wearing you down and the dizziness isn't making you sway even while sitting up.
âAre you okay?â
The car stops, you have probably entered the tower garage but you are so focused on not letting her notice that you are sick that you are not completely sure.
âYes, of course, why?â
Wanda looks at you as if the answer is obvious but before she has a chance to retort, the driver's side door is thrown open by a rather pissed off Iron Man.
âNatasha, I've told you a million times not to take this car, it costs a fortune.â
âI know, Stark, but I remind you that I always told you I'd keep taking it since you bought it. Although I must admit, I'd like to find the keys in the car already and not have to bypass your office's fallacious security system to get them.â
Natasha smiles, stepping out of the car and tossing the keys toward the multimillionaire; the man rolls his eyes, stuffing the keys in his pocket before walking away at a brisk pace, muttering something about âhaving to implement anti-widow security systems.â
âYou're terrible Nat, you'll drive him crazy.â
You say with a smirk, opening the door in turn; you just sit there, still not trusting your body to keep you stable.
Wanda comes around the car and quickly joins you.
Although you are inside the garage, the temperature is just below that outside and certainly much higher than it was inside the car.
âAre you sure you're okay y/n? You're a little paleâ Natasha places a hand on your right cheek and you lean into her touch, turning a reassuring smile to her.
âI'm fine Nat, let's go home. If I'm not mistaken, someone needs to be compensated for her chauffeuring services.â
Your joke seems to make her relax a little, and that gives you the confidence to finally put one foot on the ground. You get up and despite the dizziness that hits you as soon as you do, you manage to hide it masterfully, heading toward the elevator with your girls. Although it is only a few meters, when you enter inside it feels like you have traveled at least twenty kilometers.
âJ.A.R.V.I.S. take us to the forty-seventh floor please.â
âRight away Ms. Romanoff.â
As soon as the elevator doors close, you lean against the handrail placed on the wall behind you praying that your condition will not worsen. You observe Wanda out of the corner of your eye; the Sokovian hates elevators but is well aware that she cannot climb forty-seven flights of stairs therefore, after an animated conversation about why she could not use her powers to do so, you had convinced her to use that âinfernal contraptionâ-as she likes to call it-to reach your floor.
A loud roar diverts your attention away from the girl, and before you can figure out what's going on, the elevator suddenly stops; if it weren't for Natasha's lightning-fast reflexes, your face would surely be splattered on the floor or the metal wall in front of you, considering the gigantic size of the elevator. Big Tower big elevator, as Tony likes to say.
âAre you all right?â
Natasha watches you both, helps you to your feet and then draws Wanda into a hug.
âHoney, it's okay, the elevator will probably start working again in a few seconds.â
Wanda nods and does not even give you a glance; she is totally focused on not panicking completely. She hates elevators and now she is hating you too since you forced her into them.
Ten minutes pass and you are still stuck inside the elevator. The temperature, which was previously kept under control by the air conditioning, has risen considerably and the dizziness is only getting worse so, although you are the only one, you decide to sit down in the hope that this will help.
The former spy's phone that suddenly and, when Natasha answers, Tony's voice rings out in the metal box you are stuck in.
âHey Nat, there you see, there's a little problem, I may have knocked out the power to like well...all of Manhattan so you're going to be there for a while but I'm working on it okay? All right, see you later.â
Natasha is not in time to insult him that Tony ends the call. Natasha mumbles something in Russian and although you know few words of her native tongue, you are pretty sure they are not compliments she is paying him.
Wanda's hand is clasped between yours and you speak words of comfort to her as sweat beads your foreheads. You and Natasha take turns, trying to keep her breathing under control; the Sokovian has had panic attacks before and the last thing you need is for her to have one right now.
âBecause I let you talk me into it,â Wanda whines, squeezing your hand before standing up abruptly, starting to pace back and forth in the elevator as her breathing quickens.
âWanda, love, it will be okay, I know you hate elevators but-â
Natasha gets up to join her and you do the same but realize the shit you've done too late; in fact, it takes less than ten seconds for your body to fall to the floor with a thud.
âY/N!â
Both Natasha and Wanda scream in shock.
âHoney, open your eyes malyshka come on.â
Natasha falls to her knees beside you, placing your head on top of her legs and shaking your sweat-soaked hair from your forehead.
âD-detka open your eyes.â
Wanda caresses your cheeks and although she is still in a panic, she makes an effort to keep herself lucid for at least a few more seconds.
You blink a few times, and when you open your eyes, the metal of the ceiling reminds you where you are.
âHey, take it easy, Wands do you have any water?â
Natasha whispers, continuing to caress your face as Wanda frantically searches through her bag before shaking her head. Her breathing is quickening again and she is far too quiet to be Wanda.
âI'm fine,â you whisper and then give the blonde a look that admits no reply as you wave her over to your girlfriend.
âYou're not fine, you just fainted, you're probably dehydrated, and we're going to be stuck here for who knows how much longer.â
Natasha regrets what she said as soon as she hears a whimper coming from the sokovian before the latter falls to the floor, burying her head between her knees as you clearly hear her breathing shorten alarmingly. Natasha quickly removes her shirt and rests it under your head before moving toward Wanda.
âDon't try to get up y/n, just stand there, I got this.â
You watch her walk over to the sorceress and gently touch her arm.
âWands, hey, it's me. You have to breathe love, I know it's hard but you have to do it.â
Natasha strokes her back and Wanda's breathing seems to calm slightly as she lifts her head to look at you.
âThere you are, good girl, now follow my breathing. In and out, in and out. So good.â
As Natasha focuses on Wanda, you quickly assess your condition before sitting up and trudging toward them.
âI told you not to get up.â
âI'm sitting up and feeling better Nat.â
You whisper, holding Wanda tightly in a hug and letting her listen to your heart beat at a steady pace.
âYou are so stubborn, you-â
Another roar brings her to a halt and then, to your relief, the elevator starts up again. In two minutes, the elevator arrives on your floor and when the doors open, Natasha gives you a worried look-Wanda is massaging her chest while you are still sitting on the floor with a complexion so pale as to make the dead envious.
âWands, do you feel up to walking?â
The Sokovian nods but Natasha equally encircles her hips with her arm before ushering her toward your bedroom but not before issuing you a warning.
âDon't try to move, don't even think about it.â
You watch them walk to the end of the hallway and extend your leg to block the elevator door sensor. As soon as you see them disappear from your sight, you close your eyes and lean your head against the wall behind you, trying to counteract the dizziness and nausea.
After a few minutes you hear hurried footsteps and then a glass is pressed to your lips.
âDrink malyshka,â Natasha whispers, tilting the glass and helping you drink the water inside. When you finish it, Natasha sets the glass on the floor before taking your face in her hands; you stay like this for a few minutes before she speaks.
âCan you get up?â
You nod to her, and after a few seconds, the Russian encircles your sides with her arms and lifts you off the floor, checking you during every step you take to your bedroom.
âHow about I call Bruce? At least he'll take a look at you...â
You shake your head and in doing so lean even more against Natasha.
âNo, I'm fine Nat. I just drank a little water, that's all.â
Natasha sighs yet does not retort, helping you sit down next to Wanda.
Although you are still lightheaded and dizzy, your stomach twists as you see how much Wanda is still shaken by what has happened.
âHey love, how are you feeling?â
You reach out to her, taking her hand and intertwining your fingers. Wanda turns to you as soon as she hears your voice and hides her head in the crook of your neck; you leave a few kisses in her hair before the Sokovian speaks.
âI'm fine, I'm sorry for-â
âNo, hey, you don't have to apologize, you know it's not something we control. Neither Tasha nor I do, did you ever tell us to apologize for that?â
Wanda shakes her head and both you and Natasha nod.
âThat's right honey, so never apologize for that okay?â
Natasha sits on Wanda's other side as Wanda pulls away from you and lies down on the bed, motioning for you to get on her side. You are about to do so but a sharp dizziness causes you to desist and swing dangerously to the side; Wanda's grip on your shirt prevents a disastrous fall.
âHey y/n, hey!...Nat, did you give her sugar?â
Wanda sits up to support you better as she watches Natasha shake her head.
âNo, I...I just gave her water, now I'm going to get it.â
You want to protest but you can't, you can't even keep your eyes open.
âDetka, honey drink this. It will help you.â
Natasha hands Wanda the glass with water and sugar and the Sokovian places it on your lips helping you drink every last sip; after a few minutes the sugar finally takes effect.
âDo you feel better?â
Wanda whispers, drawing small circles on your back as you open your eyes. You nod slowly, resting your head on Natasha's shoulder and turning a small smile to the Sokovian.
âI really think we should all get some rest, and we'll call Bruce later.â
Natasha leaves a kiss on your temple, giving you a look that clearly indicates how much you cannot retort at the moment. From the look on Wanda's face, she agrees too so you surrender to your girls, letting them tuck you in before hugging you on both sides.
âRest, I love you,â Natasha lets you both have a kiss before lying down and closing your eyes. You reciprocate her âI love youâ before following suit.
You three may be a mess but you are definitely a good trio.
Thank you for reading! This piece sucks but I wanted to write something and will probably delete it later anyway...thanks and have a great day!
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Taglist: @wandanatsbaby @bioquake-archives @bioquakeweek @daisyjohnsonx @wandanatsgirlfriend @chaekhan @station19 @resilientpendragon @so-no-kissing-then @thearchpitbullmx @ashadash0904 @kingshitonly @alwaysgoodnight @callistic @xjule @yuleni18 @simpforwandanat @alexxislexi @mrsdanversromanoff @coollemonsaresour @hushed-woodsman @razorscooteer @eponine-xx @maniacallinc @michelle170 @classyig @elenaguarnieri @scarletwidow @tati3001 @cristin-rjd @your-my-mission @mr-nicely @hi-i-1 @anniethurs @ktstwice @scarlet-raccoon @maria-403 @goldfishthegr8 @wandanatfan @looiegirl-blog @bioquake-blog @daisyjohnsonx
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country living
request: there needs to be more love for jemily x reader tho!! so im thinking like jj taking her partners back to pennsylvania to show them what itâs all about
jemily x reader
summary: jjâs high school reunion is happening and she convinces both her girlfriends to come to her small rural town in pennsylvania.
a/n: hey hottie!! thanks for the requestâ country girls shake it for me jj edit stans rise!! idk how rural east allegheny is but im making it very small town rural đ¤ hope you enjoy <3 if anyone wants the actual reunion part of this just let me know đŤĄ
âgood evening lovers!â y/n smiled over her shoulder at the sound of her front door opening.
âlovers? thatâs new.â emily mumbled as she rounded the kitchen island to the younger woman.
âyou got a problem being one of my lovers?â y/n asked teasingly as she turned the heat down on the stove.
ânot at all, just curious.â emily replied holding her hands up in surrender before placing a kiss on y/nâs cheek.
âi kinda like it.â jj mused slipping out of her shoes.
âyou like anything that alludes to bedroom activities.â y/n rolled her eyes at the blonde.
âguilty!â jj sing-songed, coming to pinch y/nâs side affectionately. the younger woman turned the stove off completely and turned to face her girlfriends.
âdinner will be done in a little bit if you want any. oh and before i forget, i picked up your mail, itâs in the mail holder in the entryway.â
âthanks baby.â jj smiled, stepping back in the entryway to retrieve their mail. she shuffled the envelopes, scanning the senders as she walked back into the kitchen. she plopped down on a stool and passed emily a few bills before pausing at an invitation addressed to her. she slid her finger through the sealed envelope and pulled the invite out curiously.
âgod, has it really been 25 years since i graduated high school?â jj mumbled as she flipped the card over.
â25 years?â y/n echoed. âiâm not even going to say what i was going to say.â
âoh god, donât do that thing you do when you say how old you were during that year. it always makes me feel old.â emily grumbled.
âhey! i stopped myself. i canât help it, itâs the only way i can track time.â y/n whined as she started plating dinner. âanyways, is there a reunion or something?â
âyeah, itâs in pennsylvania next month.â
âoo, are you gonna go?â
âmaybe. i havenât been home in a pretty long time. iâm sure my mother would enjoy that.â jj mused.
âif we donât have a case, i think you should go.â emily added.
âi second that. you gotta show everybody how hot you still are.â y/n nodded, as they all settled around her small dinner table.
âwell if i go, you two have to go too. what better way to show everyone how hot i am, than to bring my super sexy lovers.â jj pointed with a cheeky wink.
âto pennsylvania?â emily grimaced.
âyes? donât look so happy about it.â jj rolled her eyes.
âi donât know, didnât you grow up on a farm or something?â emily continued.
ânot on the farm, near yes. youâre acting like im gonna make you milk a cow and churn your own butter.â
âdidnât reid say you were corn fed once? is that not what that means?â emily questioned.
âcan i wear cowgirl boots? i donât have any but i wanna buy some.â y/n asked turning to jj.
âobviously neither of you have ever been to pennsylvania.â jj shook her head.
âright, but cowgirl boots. yay or nay?â
âi vote yes. i think youâd look hot.â emily voted.
jj sighed with a smile and shook her head, âgod, i hope we get to go to this reunion.â
-
luck was surprisingly on jjâs side and she and her girlfriends were pulling up to her childhood home in East Allegheny early thursday morning.
jj put the car in park and slid out first and sighed as she gazed over her childhood home. y/n hopped out of the backseat, feet covered by the red leather cowgirl boots she just bought. emily slid out last, sunglasses blocking the sun and a soft flush from the morning heat.
âwelcome to east allegheny.â jj smiled turning to face both women.
âhow exciting! pennsylvania.â emily teasingly cheered, causing jj to roll her eyes.
âit is giving corn fed.â y/n spoke quietly as emily leaned into her side.
âoh shut up! you two are the worst.â jj pouted.
âweâre kidding weâre kidding!â y/n protested moving to wrap her arms around jjâs neck and pull her close. âweâre so excited to learn more about country living babe.â y/n grinned before puckering her lips in a silent request.
âmmhmm, youâre definitely dressed for country living.â jj teased, meeting y/nâs lips sweetly.
âjust be glad, em wouldnât let me wear my hat. i think it looked adorable.â
âadorable yes. i agree. but i think it was a little too on the nose.maybe save that for texas or something.â
âhater.â y/n rolled her eyes before hissing as emily pinched her bum in retaliation.
âalright you two, behave. my momâs waiting inside and iâve got a whole day of east allegheny things i wanna show you.â jj scolded.
âyes maâam.â emily and y/n said in unison with giggles on their tongue. emily grabbed their weekend bags and followed behind jj and y/n as they headed for the house. as soon as the first stair creakedâ the door flew open and revealed sandy jareau.
âhey mom.â jj smiled softly at her mother through the screen door. their relationship had definitely been strained in the past but sandy seemed to finally be accepting her daughter for who she was and who she loved.
âmorning jenny. come on in girls. i just finished breakfast.â sandy corralled leaning to kiss jjâs cheek as she pasted through the door. both y/n and emily followed suit and smiled politely at their host. jj leads the way through the hall of her childhood, breezing past the soccer pictures and family portraits on the wall. but unfortunately for herâ her girlfriends were not breezing past anything.
âoh my god, is that jj?â y/n asked on an excited gasp. jj groaned and turned to see where the younger woman had stopped in the hall. she shook her head solemnly when she realized she had stopped at the top of the hallway.
âoh yeah, little jenny.â sandy smiled over the younger womanâs shoulder. âiâve got the pictures situated chronologically as you go further up the hallway. sheâd just lost her first tooth.â
âoh i just wanna pinch those cheeks!â y/n grinned pulling her phone out to snap a picture to keep.
âiâll have to get the album out before yâall head back.â sandy smiled heading toward the kitchen.
âoh god, donât enable her. thereâs no telling what sheâll do with those pictures.â jj whined.
âno no, donât listen to her. mrs. jareau, i need to see every baby picture of jj you have in this house.â y/n called as she stuck her tongue out at jj teasingly.
emily hid her laughter behind her hand and placed her hands on y/nâs waist to guide her toward the kitchen of the small home. jj followed behind rolling her eyes at the giddy look on all the womenâs faces.
-
âare we taking the truck? please say weâre taking the truck.â y/n bounced at the bottom of the steps looking up at jj. theyâd all cleaned their plates and thanked sandy and now jj had a day of âcountry livingâ planned for her two girlfriends.
âi kinda wanna see you drive a truck as well. is there a hat youâll wear as well?â emily joined y/n at the bottom of the stares.
âoh itâd be so hot.â y/n mused bringing her hands up to pull on jjâs arm impatiently.
jjâs eyes moved from emilyâs teasing smirk and y/nâs pleading pout and couldnât help but grin under their attention. allowing the younger woman to pull her into her side, she placed a chaste kiss on her pouting lips. âfine fine, weâll take the truck. since itâs in such popular demand.â
y/n cheered happily and made a beeline for the old red truck parked under the tree leaving emily and jj to watch her go. emily slung her arm over jjâs shoulder with a laugh, âsheâs loving this way more than i thought she would.â
âwouldnât be surprised if sheâs got a thing for cowgirls.â jj said bumping her hip against emilyâs.
âoh for sure.â emily agreed with a laugh. they watched as y/n climbed into the bed of the truck and turned to face them.
âcan i ride in the back? i wanna feel the country wind in my hair.â
âno.â both emily and jj vetoed in unison.
âaww you guys are no fun.â y/n pouted but knew they werenât changing their minds.
-
âemily!â jj called with her hands held out in warning.
âwhat?!â emily paused in her step.
âyour foot is hovering over a huge pile of shit. and i know how many youâre going to be if you step in that.â jj pointed.
âoh yeah thatâd be so gross. weâd make you ride in the bed of the truck.â y/n nodded turning to look at the poop in question. âoh my godâ what kinda animal did that?â
jj laughed with a shake of a head and turned y/n back toward the way they were walking. âthe horses.â
âhave i been that obvious about my cowgirl thing?â y/n asked eyeing both emily and jj.
âwe assumed but the look in your eyes confirmed everything we were thinking.â emily shrugged with a knowing smirk.
y/n nodded in acceptance before turning to face jj, âin that case, i need to see you up on that steed, now.â
âi canât believe you just said steed.â emily deadpanned.
-
after spending the day on her grandfathers farm, jj pulled the truck into the only small parking lot lit up. it was about 9pm and east allegheny had fully transitioned into night life mode. which in a small town means going to âthe hidey holeâ for darts, beers, line dancing, and fried onion blossoms.
jj slid out of the truck first and emily followed from the passenger door. after refusing to let y/n ride in the bed of the truck, she insisted on being squished between them in the front. with both women out of the truck, she scooted her way to the edge of the driverâs side and hopped into jjâs waiting arms.
âi think we should get a truck.â she smiled dreamily as jj placed her on the ground.
âyouâre only saying that because youâve been wedged between us all day.â jj shook her head in amusement.
âwell yes, but think of the easy access a truck allows.â y/n grinned mischievously.
emily blew a huff through her nose as she rounded the truck and stepped behind jj, caging the blonde between them. ânow she makes a very good point. i think we should hear her out.â
jjâs cheeks reddened and her eyes rolled, âyou two are trouble. iâm starting to regret bringing you both here.â y/n and emily laughed joyously before both kissing one of jjâs cheeks affectionately and releasing her.
they all filed into the bar and nabbed a tall table in the corner. with both y/n and emily seated, jj nodded her head toward the bar. âiâm gonna go get us some drinks and an onion blossom.â
âan onion what?â emily asked as jj walked away.
âi have no idea. i canât lie though, iâm kinda excited.â y/n clapped happily. jj returned shortly with three beers wedged between her fingers and a plate of fried deliciousness.
âoh itâs definitely giving corn fed.â y/n grinned, pulling the onion blossom toward her side of the table eagerly.
-
âbaby, whyâs your face on the wall?â y/n asked as she and jj set up for a darts game.
âoh no reasonââ jj started to deflect but was quickly interrupted by a bumbling gruff guy leaning against the wall near them. âsheâs the only person whoâs ever gotten a single treble 20 in this town.â
y/n looked between the man and jj incredulously, âso youâre basically famous?â
jj shook her head with a smitten grin and the guy nodded his head in agreement. âsheâs hidey hole royalty.â
âoh my god, em! jjâs royalty! come take my picture with her picture.â y/n called across the barâ much to jjâs dismay. she was positive those beers were finally hitting her girlfriend and she couldnât help but to laugh as she watched her pose with the framed photo on the wall.
-
full of cheap beer and love, jj stopped the rusty truck in the backyard of her house. with the car in park she turned to her girlfriends with a smile. âwait here, iâll be right back.â she darted up the back porch and quietly opened the screen door to enter. y/n and emily watched her go, but stayed put as theyâd been told. when jj reemerged she was carrying piles of pillows and dragging blankets behind her. she threw them into the bed of the truck and pulled herself over the edge to situate everything comfortably. once the blankets were placed to her liking, she knocked on the back window and motioned for both women to join her.
âi canât believe i ate something called an onion blossom.â emily groaned as she shuffled closer to y/nâs side.
âi canât believe you wouldnât line dance with us. that was a once in a lifetime experience.â y/n grumbled.
âyou get so much more dramatic when you drink.â emily spoke into the younger womanâs hairline.
âyou got a problem with that?â y/n asked feigning aggression.
âquiet you two, or iâll ground you both.â jj reprimanded teasingly, eyes trained on the star filled sky. they all dissolved into giggles, feeling so light and so full of love that they couldnât contain it. when they quieted down jj spoke softly. âwhen i was younger my grandfather would set up the truck like this for ros and i every weekend. it was my favorite part of the week.â y/n pulled jj closer as they quietly listened to her story. âitâs probably one of the things i miss the most about her. it was like our special time together. we didnât argue, she wasnât completely annoyed by my presence and it was our sister time.â
emily reached across y/n to twine her and jjâs fingers in support. âyou know that reminds me of my summers in paris with my grandfather in his isolated cabin. weâd spend the day hiking and fishing. and end the night in a hammock identifying constellations.â emily recalled.
âi know youâve both been together for so long, but i donât think iâll ever get tired of getting to know you both.â y/n smiled up at the stars squeezing both emily and jj affectionately. they hummed happily and enjoyed the clear night sky. a true perk of country living.
#jemily x reader#emily prentiss x reader#criminal minds x reader#jennifer jareau x reader#jemily#emily prentiss#jennifer jareau#msschemmenti
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Hey! Can I request a falin x reader where reader is a lone researcher in the dungeon and stumbles into chimera falin and the two fall in love?
Maybe Like a 5 times the reader has met chimera falin and 1 time the two get to meet after sheâs turned back type story?
beauty/beast
âŚft! falin x gn! reader
âŚtags! 5+1 format, reader is like slightly unhinged, fluff with moments of angst, slight suggestiveness
âŚwc! 2789
âŚnotes! grimm tries not to come off as a monsterkisser for nearly 2.7k words, the fic,,,, hope you enjoy!!!! i love chimera falin so badâŚÂ
One
You canât say you didnât ask for this.
Itâs a death sentence to traverse into a dungeon on your own, especially with your lack of combat skills. If you were sane, youâd have hired a bodyguard to help take down monsters you couldnât handle. Fortunately, you are not, and decided instead you could very well handle monsters in a pacifistic way.
Any companion you told this to chose to stare at you like you admitted to dark magic.
So, youâll simply prove the nay-sayers wrong! After all, how hard can it be to tame some monsters?
Very hard, actually. Like⌠incredibly.
You had to pride yourself in how you managed to sweet-talk some petty thieves for advice on monsters in the floor youâre currently on, even how to avoid orcs! At least that much is out of the way.
As for fighting, well, sometimes a very sharp slap to the head with a book, or even the sharp tip of a pen can subdue anyone, if just to give you enough time to run.
Besides, blood makes for some extra ink if you just happened to come by a dead body!
Going purely on efficiency alone, youâre doing tremendous work! When it comes to your study? Not so much.
The purpose of coming all the way down here is that you have a very specific urge. That being, to tame a beast. Some researchers gained the will to try and do the same to elemental spirits, why not other monsters?
One of the most common rebuttals you receive is that monsters are animals, they canât be tamed at all, and you shouldnât even try lest you want your head bitten off. Considering thus far you only got bitten by a walking mushroom, you think youâre doing rather well! (You did take an hour to contemplate to yourself how a walking mushroom seemingly has teeth, though.)
That brings you now later to the fourth floor, trying to shield your notes from the water as you lament losing more ink. Sure, you might write a little bit more than should be necessary, but you surely canât be out already!
So, delight fills you as you peer past a doorway to see the top half of a woman face down on the floor. Haha, you can likely drain her pretty easily for some ink! Looks fresh enough, and some patches of her are already damp with red!
You skip over, humming as you do so, when all at once the woman jerks and looks up at you. Her golden eyes pierce your own, making you freeze in place. You wonder if something had gotten mixed up and a succubus ended up making its way to an upper floor, when the walls of the small tower the woman is inhabiting collapses.
A chimera screeches at you, as if telling you to leave it alone. If you werenât so awestruck, you would have tried to shush it, lure it towards you and petted its oddly human head. Alas, you let the chicken-legged thing go, finding a safe haven for itself.
Day 1: I have found a beast in its purest form. I must pursue it. I must tame it.
Two
âObsessionâ would be putting your experience lightly.
You had never wanted to gaze upon a monster as much as you wished to see the chimera again. Unique is its proportions, the lower body of a dragon and the torso and head of an adult tallwoman.
To anyone else, its face must be more of a lure. With the prettiest face and⌠great assets to boot, like a fish drawn to an angler fish's light, a blindsided adventurer comes near.
You had tried to navigate where the beast has gone, observing the damages of certain areas to lead you closer to it.
Thoughts course through your mind like speckles of a daydream as you walk and walk and walk, trying to sneak past other enemies and adventurers as you do so. What would its feathers feel like? Is it different from the mop of blonde hair on its head? You didnât get the chance to observe its eyes â are they human or monster? What of its body heat? What is its diet?
Ah. Diet.
Your own body stops walking in realisation. By all means, comparing their mouth to the rest of their body, itâs ultimately impossible for the chimera to have a stable diet in this dungeon, correct?
Perhaps⌠you need to make a lure of your own.
Even after days of navigating the dungeon, you still have plenty of rations from the surface remaining in your bag. Hopefully the chimera likes the most noble meal one can fit inside a lunchbox â meats and pasta with the richest sauce. One could say your taste in meals is unique, eliciting a morbid curiosity. If the beast is more in tune with its human side, it will react the same.
You donât know what tempted you to arrange a table with two chairs on either side. Itâs not like the chimera could fit, but it was only suitable for your first formal meeting with it! Oh, how you canât wait to observe it eating, and so closeâŚ!
If youâre lucky, it may even attempt to taste you.
You promptly shake off the thought.
What you focus on now is to draw the chimera near. It seems to favour secluded areas, but has been seemingly chased around. Aw, is it scared of humans? Thatâs just adorable! Or, maybe, itâs resting before setting off on a searchâŚÂ Now thatâd be some juicy stuff! Whoâs the chimeraâs prey? Another monster, or humans?
Oh, of course youâll use yourself as bait. Youâre not a coward!
You know basic enough spells that you wonât be entirely drained of mana upon use, lighting up a route to catch the chimeraâs attention upon spotting it. Down you lead it, making yourself look as bright and delectable as possible, before sitting in your seat, your meal readily prepared for the chimera.
You smile up at her as she pokes at the food you prepared, and she begins to eat.
Day 3: The beast was very hungry upon encounter. Even when she finished the meal, she insisted on having something more. I complied, and soon I had emptied my entire share of rations. The chimera eats food made for humans easily. This elicits curiosity â it might be proof enough that the chimeraâs existence in this dungeon is unnatural. Even now, it looks too⌠human. I feel uncomfortable now referring to the beast as such â an âitâ. Thus, I will refer to the chimera as âsheâ from here on. It suits her. She truly is magnificent.  All signs point to her being an attempt at creating a âbeast-kinâ, but instead of using the soul of a monster and body of a human, itâs as if itâs a mesh of both. A disgustingly beautiful transformation. To compare, it is not dissimilar to the breeding of a pug. Deliberately done to appease someone, something. A selfish birth. Someone must be wanting to do the same as I to the chimera â tame her to their whims. âŚIâll have to look further into this.
Three
You feel less in control of your studies these days.
The more you hang around the dungeon, scavenging for food and following your muse, the more insane you feel. But, for the sake of research, you power through.
The chimera, she has been opening herself up to you. When she gets anxious, her feathers ruffle, and you shush her with pets. She calms down occasionally. Once, you had encountered her, blood on her body and under her fingernails. You cleaned her using the mana-infused water. She had never looked so calm.
She doesnât feel like a monster you have tamed, but a friend.
This scares you.
Sure, thereâs the possibility that the chimera is an unnatural phenomenon, and isnât even a monster.
But that also means youâre losing your resolve.
The chimera sits with you, as you scrub her red-scaled talons free of dirt and blood. Her upper body leans on you, resting. You can even hear little chirps slipping from her lips.
Sheâs so cute.
Even as her golden eyes soften, the small slits in them dilating to exhibit relaxation, she smiles at you. You donât flinch when her hands take your face to look at you. Sheâs a bird after all â she might be trying to memorise you, how you look, so she knows not to hurt you in the future.
You were nearly about to reminisce on your further embarrassment when the chimera speaks.
Four words. She spoke four words in the common language, leaving you staring at her. Youâre speechless. She must know that sheâs caught you off guard as she slowly tucks your hair behind your ear and moves away.
The moment is quickly ruined. âDragon!â A boyish voice calls. âThere you are. Youâve been leaving my side so frequently. Thereâs no time toââ
An elf in a cloak freezes upon noticing you. His heavy eye bags rival your own as he glares down at your sitting position.
You donât do anything, merely looking up at your friend in confusion. She is back to being silent again, reaching her arms out to the elf, as if about to pick him up. He swats at her, before pointing at you.
âKill them,â he demands her.
She hesitates. You also find yourself unable to move. So the chimera is under someoneâs control after all. This elf, forcing you apart from your friend.
You hardly process your friend lifting you off the floor, her fingers closing in around your throat. Tighter and tighter. Your eyes can barely make out her empty expression as she squeezes the life out of your lungs.
Snap.
You fall onto the floor, and the mad mage leaves with his dragon in tow.
Day ??: âMy name is Falin.â The chimera told me this last time we encountered one another. She has a name. A beautiful name that belongs just to her. Falin. âŚI would say âmy Falinâ, but she is not. She is under the control of that elf. I wouldnât want her to be my Falin anyway. She shouldnât belong to anyone. I was revived by a kindly Eastern woman, who is accompanying a group of retainers following their lord. They are joined by another party, also recently revived. Apparently, in my revival, I had uttered her name, âFalin,â and captured the attention of the malnourished lord. He is looking for her. âŚI was informed she is his love. Pushing personal feelings aside, I asked to come along. I neglected to mention Falinâs current state. I couldnât do that to him right now. Maybe once he sleeps, or eats⌠but not now. Falin, I wish to save you. That is my goal now. You are not a monster to be tamed.
Four
Today, you met Laios Touden.
He is Falinâs older brother, you learn.
You met a lot of people, actually. You met Falinâs party, an elf who Falin went to school with, as well as Laios Touden.
âYouâve seen Falin?â He asks you, brow creased. He had leaned forward in interest. Lord Toshiro, Kabru, and Asebi were also listening to you with intrigue.
You nod. âYes, but I fear the situation might be a little more than you have bargained for,â you vaguely inform.
Your words would be interrupted by Laiosâ request to talk privately with Toshiro, to which you comply. You do already have a feeling of what's being said, something Kabru seems to pick up on as he glances over at you.
âFalin⌠isnât faring well, is she?â
âNot in the traditional sense,â you reply. Kabru grimaces, clearly not appreciating your rather⌠erratic way of conversing. You add before he could talk back, âsheâll come back for me.â
Kabru furrows his brow. âExcuse me?â
His question remains unanswered until you are swept up in a heated battle. Looks of horror cross everyoneâs faces at the bloody acts committed by the chimera.
You merely smile.
âHello beauty,â you whisper when she turns to you. Falin steps forward, cornering you. You welcome her with open arms â and the world becomes dark again.
Day ??: Scorned though I may be by Lord Toshiro, I know myself not to be mad, but in love. Yes, I am in love. I know this now for certain. I know that he, too, is in love. I do not see his wishes badly. In fact, from a sane manâs mouth, it is perfectly understandable. Dark magic is dangerous. As is love. Heâs risking his own reputation for it, even if others donât appear to see things the way he does. But when push comes to shove, I am not that sane man. I am joining Laios Toudenâs party in the retrieval of Falin. The aftermath of the battle consisted of a hearty meal. Who knew monsters could taste so nice? Keep this in mind for the next adventure. I had figured this all came from the result of black magic. Marcille Donato is a much more interesting woman than I thought. Iâm sure I could learn a lot from her. Hence, we march forward. I know you arenât in your right mind, Falin, but trust that I am. I will risk it all for you, beauty.
Five
The ice is cold underneath your fingertips. The woman encased inside is relaxed, as if sheâs merely asleep. To see her completely separated from the lower half of the chimera body was something uncanny to you, so used to seeing her towering over you, able to squash you like a bug.
You turn to Marcille as she approaches. âYou had the right mind, keeping her fresh like this. Deep down, you really did want to follow through with the plan!â
The blonde elf is sheepish. âI did end up causing a right mess in the end. It⌠It was selfish of me.â
âIt was love,â you reply.
âNot the love Falin needs, though,â she finishes.
You both stare up at her in silence. If you were delusional enough, you could swear you could see Falin breathing.
âI love her,â you admit, quieter than you have ever been. âIs that alright with you?â
Marcille turns to you, her eyes wide. For such a gossip, she really hasnât picked up on it?
âIâŚâ She hesitates. Her hands reach her trousers, and she scrunches up the fabric in her hands. âItâs not my choice what â or who â Falin chooses. I donât think I have the right to decide anything for her.â
You nod, graciously taking Marcilleâs word to heart.
You feel youâve also changed throughout your journey. Volatile as you may be, you appreciate Falin as she is. An untamed beauty. Not for anyone to claim or put their ideals onto.
Sheâs simply Falin.
âCome on,â Marcille takes your hand. She has the kind of look on her face where you know she accepts you readily. âLetâs go eat, okay? For Falin.â
You smile back. âFor Falin.â
I donât care about the day anymore. Falin is being revived today. Soon, Iâll have a chance to meet the real her. The beauty behind the beast. Ha. I havenât called her that for a while. Maybe Iâll follow Toshiroâs way and propose immediately too? No, Marcille may accept me, but that might result in another need for revival. I canât wait to get to know you.
the first time
Falin opens the door with a dazed expression, not expecting the crowd waiting around the door. Of course, this resulted in quite the hoo-ha. People running around, celebrating the successful revival of Falin Touden. You wait patiently for you to be welcomed once more.
The woman is sitting calmly at her bed. Some of her features are still feathered, but youâve always liked how they felt underneath your fingertips.
She glances up at you, examining your form.
Youâre taller than she thought.
âHi,â you say, handing over a random blade of grass you picked.
Falin takes it. Her fingers brush against your own. She starts twirling the natural green between her fingers. She smiles warmly. âHello,â her soft, tired voice returns. Itâs so sweet that you might melt. âMy name is Falin. Itâs nice to meet you.â
You know from the way she glances up at you that she already remembers you quite well.
Feeling the happiest youâve ever been, you fall into Falin, pulling her into the tightest of hugs.
âItâs so wonderful to meet you too, beauty.â
Today, she asked me if she could belong to me. I said yes, but only if she belonged to herself first. She accepted.
#⎠grimm's fics!#FALLS OVER#this is my longest fic so far i think wow#as falin deserves#delicious in dungeon#delicious in dungeon imagines#delicious in dungeon x reader#dungeon meshi#dungeon meshi imagines#dungeon meshi x reader#falin#falin touden#falin x reader#falin imagines#falin touden x reader#falin touden imagines
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will you please give us examples of resources to look at if we want to learn more about the concept of gender and maybe even transness in Medieval Europe? thanks!
whooooo boy right, there's a lot! I wanna start this by saying that I am very much not an expert, and I only have access to stuff I can find for free and the handful of books I can afford to buy second hand. Most of my research has been around gender as it relates to transness and GNC people. I am absolutely missing stuff, or have forgotten stuff, or simply lack the know-how to find stuff.
There's a few bits I've got on a TBR but haven't read yet - some I've included and some I haven't, depending on the source and how established it is.
Also: this is medieval Europe. The way pronouns are used to describe people don't really align with modern views of sex and gender. Also be aware of old-fashioned language use (for example, some texts talk about "hermaphrodites"). Remember that the way we talk about gender and trans identities is far different to how we even spoke about it 20 years ago.
So with that out of the way... I am chucking this under a read more, because it's long:
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GENDER
Medieval ideas around gender were different to how we now think about it. The Hippocratic view of gender saw gender as a sort of wet/dry, cold/hot spectrum upon which men were at one end and women the other (and in the middle were intersex people). The male body was seen as hot and dry, and the female as cold and wet. The cold, wetness is what made women try to seek out heat from guys. A lot comes down to humors rather than genitals - if you're hot and dry, that innately means you grow a penis, because the heat sorta forces it out. So the marker is that penis = man, but you only have that penis in the first place because of your hot, dry humor.
Some people believed the vagina was an inverted penis - as in, the penis turned outside in. Some schools of thought believed that both men and women produced "seed", and that both were needed for conception. These thoughts and ideas shifted around a lot.
The Hippocratic view shifted towards Aristotelian ideas around the 12th Century, where the male/female divide was a lot stronger. There were also surgeons throughout all these periods who sought to "correct" intersex genitalia with surgery (how little things change).
This podcast (I've linked to a transcript, because I have more time to read than listen to things) with Dr Eleanor Janega is super interesting. In fact, I'd recommend reading her whole blog, which is fascinating. She also has a book out (but I've not read it so I can't give a yay or nay on that one)
The Meanings of Sex Difference in the Middle Ages by Joan Cadden seems to be a good source on this, but I've not read it so I can't vouch for it 100%.
I've listed below some real people who could fit into our modern interpretation of transness, and the fact that all of these people were only "outed" when arrested or at their death makes me think that there were probably a lot more people at the time who would also fit into this category. It does feel (to me, a layman) that you could rock up in a new town and go "hello I'm Jeff the Man" and people would just accept that.
It's also important to note that the majority of sources I've found are about people we could define as trans men (FTM). I've only found one person who could be described as a trans woman. If anyone out there has more sources for trans women, I'd love to hear them - specifically in medieval Europe/England.
There's also a big discussion to be had around the idea of women dressing as men to achieve a goal. People love getting into arguments about it. My general rule is that if someone lived as X gender, and was forcibly outed against their will or at death, then I feel we can more safely assume that their experience maps more closely onto a trans narrative than it does one of a woman taking on the "disguise" of a man.
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TRANS & GNC ACADEMIA
Here's some of the sources I've been using that examine medievalism through a trans or trans-adjacent lens.
Trans and Genderqueer Subjects in Medieval Hagiography, Alicia Spencer-Hall & Blake Gutt - a deep dive/collection of essays about medieval religious figures/saints through a trans lens, specifically about cross-dressing figures. Really fascinating, and available on open access.
How to be a Man, Though Female: Changing Sex in Medieval Romance, Angela Jane Weisl - goes into detail about medieval texts in which characters change their sex.
Transgender Genealogy in Tristan de Nanteuil, Blake Gutt - trans theory in the story Tristan de Nanteuil.
Trans Historical: Gender Plurality before the Modern, edited by Greta LaFleur, Masha Raskolnikov & Anna KĹosowska - A great big examination into trans history/gender. I desperately want this book.
Clothes Make the Man, Female Cross Dressing in Medieval Europe, Valerie R. Hotchkiss (book, no online source available) - Another look into women dressing as men and gender inversion.
The Shape of Sex, Leah DeVun (book) - A history of nonbinary sex, 200 - 1400BC. Not read this one yet but it's on my TBR.
In fact, I'd recommend all of Leah DeVun's work, which I'm currently making my way through. I'm currently reading Mapping the Borders of Sex.
The Third Gender and Aelfric's Lives of Saints, Rhonda L. McDaniel - An examination into the idea of a "third gender" in monastic life based around chastity and spiritualism
Erecting Sex: Hermaphrodites and the Medieval Science of Surgery, Leah DeVun - an essay about "corrective" surgery on intersex individuals in the 13th/14th centuries. (I've not fully read this one yet but the topic is relevant)
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TRANS FIGURES
Joseph/Hildegund (died 1188) - A monk who, upon his death, was discovered to have a vagina/breasts.
Eleanor Rykener (1394) - A (likely) trans sex worker arrested in 1394 (and another source that isn't wiki)
Katherina Hetzeldorfer (killed 1477) - An early record of a "woman" being executed for female sodomy. Katherina dressed and presented as a man, and some scholars read them as a trans man.
Marinos/Marina the Monk (5th Cent) - A monk who was born a woman and lived as a man in a monastery. Marinos was accused of getting a local innkeeper's daughter pregnant. Their "true sex" was discovered upon their death.
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ROMANCES* & GENDER
If you're interested in the idea of gender presentation and trans-adjacent stories, I very much recommend taking a look at some contemporary sources. I've tried to take a sort of neutral approach to pronouns for these descriptions, but it's hard to marry the medieval and modern ideas of sex and gender! The titles are all links.
*Romances here means Chivalric Romances: prose/verse narratives about chivalry, often with fantastic elements. Not, like, falling in love Romances.
Le Roman de Silence (13th Cent) - in order to ensure inheritance, a couple raise their daughter as a boy. The baby is called Silence/Silentius/Silentia. The poem features the forces of Nature and Nurture, who argue about Silence's "true" gender - Nature claims they're a girl, and Nurture claims they're a boy. Silence has a variety of adventures, largely referred to in the text as a man with he/him pronouns, and at the end their "true gender" is discovered and, as a woman, they marry the king.
Yde et Olive (15th Cent) - to avoid being married to their own father, Yde, a woman, disguises themselves as a man and becomes a knight. They end up in Rome, where the king marries them to their daughter, Olive. After a couple of weeks, Yde tells Olive about their "true gender", but the conversation is overheard. The King demands Yde bathe with him to prove they are a man. An angel intervenes and transforms Yde's body into that of a man.
Iphis and Ianthe (Greek/Roman myth, but also in Ovid's Metamorphois, which first came to England in the 15th Cent) - Telethusa is due to give birth, but her husband tells her that if the baby is a girl he'll have it killed. When she gives birth to a girl, she disguises the baby as a boy. Eventually, Iphis is engaged to Ianthe. (Incidentally, this is also a really early example of same-sex romance, as Iphis struggles with their love for Ianthe "as a woman"). Before the wedding, Iphis and Telethusa pray at the temple of Isis, who transforms Iphis into a man.
Tristan de Nanteuil (11th/12th Cent) - from the Chanson de geste, after his alleged death, Tristan's wife, Blanchandin/e, disguises themselves as a Knight. Clarinde, a sultan's daughter, falls in love with them. Blanchandin manages to hide their "true sex", but when Clarinde demands they bathe with her to prove they are a man they flee into the woods. There, they meet an angel who asks if they want to be transformed into a man. Blanchandin accepts and he is turned into a man for the rest of the poem. (Incidentally the angel gives him a giant cock. Yes, the text specifies this).
Le Livre de la mutation de fortune (1403) - written in the first person by Christine de Pizan, the poem describes how the narrator is transformed by Fortune into a man after the death of their husband during a storm at sea. They maintain that 13 years after the event, they are still living as a man. (They also mention Tiresias, a Greek mythological figure who was a man transformed into a woman for seven years).
Okay, for now - that's about all I can think of. Happy reading!
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hi! just read your post about accidentally deleting your inbox jsjsjs so sorry that happened to you. i must've been a hassle to you. uhm just in case mine got deleted as well, i'll send it again if it's alright with you haha if i remember correctly, i think it was a muzan request + male hashiras where their s/o (or someone who has feelings for them) intervened with their respective fights and their actions were the deciding factors of the fight's outcome that led them to victory (you could have their s/o either perish or survive) thank you again and wish you a good day/evening! đđťââď¸đ
Male Hashira + Muzan x Reader - Make it Count
author's note: i finally managed to finish this post. truthfully, only Rengoku's part was missing, but my motivation was completely gone after i broke my hand. i hope you enjoy my thoughts on this and sorry for keeping you waiting.
pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader, Muzan x reader
content warning: descriptions of blood, death (Obanai, Gyomei)
Tengen:
⢠in this life, he didn't lose a hand fighting Gyutaro and Daki. instead of Obanai, you were the person called for help. luckily, you arrived earlier, but it changed the outcome of the whole fight
⢠Tengen nearly threw up when instead of his hand being chopped off, you received a deep cut from Gyutaro, making blood spill over your uniform.
⢠the only thing keeping him going was that you immediately held onto the demon, forcing him to stay dangerously still. while the demon trashed, he couldn't free himself against your grip.
⢠luck was on your side when Tengen dashed forward beheaded the green-haired demon. and if it hadn't been for the younger slayer beheading Daki, it could've turned out much worse.
⢠relaxation fell short, Tengen caught your body and started sprinting towards help, losing consciousness a moment later. he would've never forgiven himself without you by his side.
⢠happiest time in years when he woke up in a hospital bed, finding you asleep in the bed on his right. you looked better than before. healthier.
Obanai:
⢠he's blaming himself, somehow this all was his fault. he didn't know what demon the two of you would encounter, nor did he know you'd join this mission with him, but it was his fault.
⢠trauma caught up with him when a giant snake demon appeared in front of him. his body got tense, blood running cold through his veins. she looked exactly like the demon he had seen ears ago, but she was dead. right?
⢠you had screamed at him, told him to attack or run - do something. anything. realizing there was no other way, you leap at the demon, pushing Obanai to the side and start to attack.
⢠he gets thrown to the ground, watching you jump high, sword aimed at the beast calling herself a demon. luck isn't on your side when she opens her mouth, jaw dislocating uncannily.
⢠her fangs sink deep into your torso a moment later, body feeling an immense pain running through it. Obanai reacts when he sees your shocked eyes.
⢠if it hadn't been for the weird angle of his attacks, he wouldn't have been able to behead her. if only he had reacted fast enough, your body falling several feet until he catches you in his arms, demon vanishing with a low hiss.
⢠"Oba- nai.." he couldn't believe it, wouldn't believe it, but the purple tint crawling it's way over your skin spoke to him. you had been poisoned. severely.
⢠the skin around the bite marks was already fully purple, the color already consuming half your neck. "i don't.. want to die.."
⢠he wanted to say it wouldn't happen, he wanted to assure you, but instead he only held you in his arms, pressing you close to him.
⢠1 minute and 26 seconds. your heart stopped beating right after. yet he only moved hours after you were long gone, the exact time having gone lost in a sea of misery.
Rengoku:
⢠he was so tired, not wanting to fight anymore, but having to push through. the demon was strong, stronger than any demon he had ever encountered. he can't remember when the fight started, but the sun would rise soon and while the demon kept fighting, his exhaustion was increasing.
⢠his eyes snapped towards you when he saw you dart towards the demon. he hadn't seen you until then, meaning you had probably come from behind the demon.
⢠the following part had been his fault, shouting your name in the heat of the moment. it didn't only alarm you, but the demon as well, making it turn around and slash at you.
⢠you blacked out right after, only hearing the sound of Rengoku's sharp sword gliding through the air.
⢠when you awoke, you were in an unknown room. your environment was completely white - no, not everything. the warm and bright colors next to you were the most recognizable thing you've ever seen.
⢠with a bit of pain, you combed your fingers through Rengoku's hair, making the man relax into your touch.
⢠"i'm sorry." his words were quiet, he didn't have the energy to sound happy this time around. instead he looked at you with soft eyes and a hope of receiving forgiveness.
Sanemi:
⢠he wouldn't let you die, he wouldn't even think of it. however, it was only normal for demon slayers to get hurt, right? he had multiple scars of his own, he knew he couldn't protect you from everything.
⢠he just thought he could at least protect you from major wounds. that's why he couldn't believe his eyes when he not only saw the demon slash you, but nearly cut you in half.
⢠you were lucky enough to safe yourself from a fatal wound on your stomach, but the excruciating pain you felt in your left arm was nearly worse.
⢠waking up, you didn't remember ever seeing the surroundings you now saw. before you could panic and search for help, you heard a shoji slide open.
⢠"you.. you're awake." you nodded, watching the man walk towards you. he sat down next your futon, a small plate in hand.
⢠"eat. you need energy." the gravel tone in his voice made you hesitate, but you still listened to your friend and mentor. however, when you reached towards the plate with your left hand, your eyes widened.
⢠you watched your yukata slide down your arm, revealing the missing limb. bandages and ointment had been applied, at least that's what the scent told you.
⢠yet you couldn't stop the tears from forming. what kind of demon slayer would fight with only one hand. you were on the verge of hyperventilating when Sanemi grabbed your arm.
⢠his touch was never this soft, almost as if he feared causing even more damage. the coldness in his gaze told you the same story. what happened has not only altered you, but also him.
⢠he didn't talk, the room being shrouded in a deafening silence. when he finally moved again, he only let his hand sink, still holding onto you.
⢠the pain his eyes displayed were unmistakable. you knew a talk about your last mission would follow, but the change in his demeanour scared you more than the lack of your hand.
Giyuu:
⢠your eyes snapped open in seconds, body tensing. you had wanted to jump into a defensive position when you felt a painful ache throughout your whole body.
⢠you hissed in pain, arching your back away from the soft mattress under you. where was the demon? you had been facing him moments prior!
⢠your heart leaped when you felt a strong hand grabbing onto your arm, gently yet forcefully pushing you back down into a resting position.
⢠"i couldn't protect you." his voice was quiet, almost shaky. he didn't dare meet your gaze, instead letting his eyes rest on your hand.
⢠"what..?" you couldn't grasp the situation at first, looking around the room, which you soon identified as part of the butterfly mansion.
⢠then you looked down at yourself, seeing numerous bandages hide different parts of your body. the aching pain in your back suddenly made sense, remembering the demon you fought.
⢠your eyes widened in realization, forcing yourself to sit up. Giyuu reminded you to stay in bed, but his resolve slipped when he felt your arms wrap around him.
⢠"you saved me." the words made him tense. yes, the demon had been strong with a weapon that dealt multiple hits at once, but you were hurt-
⢠"i think i would've died." you stated, your voice having dropped in volume. he recognized the tone, you always sounded that way when something negatve played in your mind.
⢠"i'm glad you're alive." he answered, his voice even more quiet than yours. not wanting you to feel down amymore, he carefully put his arms around you.
⢠he was sure he failed, but if it would make you feel better, he could play your savior for now.
Gyomei:
⢠he had never cursed his blindness. it had been his way of living, a small obstacle he needed to face every day.
⢠he didn't know it would become his greatest fear after years of peace. he had already gone to numerous missions with you, nothing had every stopped you from winning. sure, an open wound or broken bone but nothing too bad.
⢠so why could he not spot you with any of his senses. he had known your exact location a moment prior, but now it wasn't there anymore. the demon was dead, how could this be?
⢠a bad feeling bubbled deep in his gut when he felt warmth radiating near him. it was barely there, but he had felt it. he kneeled down, his large hand reaching towards the source.
⢠he immediately recognized the uniform you were wearing, even when it was soaked in blood and ripped apart. yet his focus was barely there.
⢠he was searching for something, anything. your breathing had stilled, your warmth had drastically decreased. not a single sound was coming from your body.
⢠the tears that fell onto your body right after spoke of utter despair. he knew you were scared of death, he wasn't there when you bled out on the ground.
⢠he carefully wiped the long fallen tears away from your cheeks, closing your eyes in the most tender way he could muster. "i'm sorry."
⢠he picked your body up, making sure to cradle you in his arms. it was time to go home.
Muzan:
⢠he knew keeping a human by his side was a miserable idea. he had wanted to turn you into a demon right from the start, but you just had to deny.
⢠and those reasons you had, so humane, he almost threw up. family. friends. aging. feeling. didn't you understand the superiority of his perfect being?
⢠nevermind, he could keep you around for a while longer, until you learned how much better demons were.
⢠how come you would die before you even got the chance to experience such superiority? hit. by a simple demon slayer.
⢠those pesky animals had annoyed him right from the start. the moment he saw your body fall, he had already gotten rid of the slayer. the incompetence to mistake another human for a demon was disgusting to him.
⢠his mind was immediately back on you, watching you slump against a nearby tree and sob in agony. he didn't hesitate, the needle forming on the flesh appendage protruding his back shooting towards you.
⢠those damn emotions would keep you from becoming a demon, wanting to die human. he didn't care, in this matter your opinion was irrelevant.
⢠the loud cry you let out wasn't anything he would've liked to hear, but it was necessary to keep you alive. just a bit more of his blood and you would never face these problems again.
⢠he walked to your unconscious body, the sound of a biwa filling the back of his mind. you would learn to like your new existence. he wouldn't give you another choice, you were too important.
#kimetsu no yaiba#kimetsu no yaiba x reader#kimetsu no yaiba angst#kny#kny x reader#kny angst#demon slayer#demon slayer x reader#demon slayer angst#kny tengen#tengen uzui#tengen x reader#kny obanai#obanai iguro#obanai x reader#kny rengoku#rengoku kyojuro#rengoku x reader#kny sanemi#sanemi shinazugawa#sanemi x reader#kny giyuu#giyuu tomioka#giyuu x reader#kny gyomei#gyomei himejima#gyomei x reader#kny muzan#muzan kibutsuji#muzan x reader
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After watching a romcom with Tommy (who mentions offhand that nobody has ever romanced him like that), Buck activates his inner romantic (ie Season1Boyfriend!Buck) with one mission in mind: to completely and utterly sweep Tommy off his feet.
Tommy is this cool, confident and unflappable guy 24/7, and Buck has this need to see him blush.
Flowers, a candlelit meal, slowdancing in the moonlight. The whole shebang, and Tommy melts.
Im so sorry that this took an absolute age to get to! Lots of stuff going on and illness blah blah blah ANYWAY! Here it is, I hope you like it.
As Always if you have a bucktommy or saltommy prompt send to my ask box. Smut, fluff, whump.. whatever you want
đŠś
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RATING: T
TW: 1 use of the f-slur
WORDS: 2,432
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Buck knew that Tommy loved a romcom. He liked lots of genres of movies, and all for different reasons. But romcoms he loved because of the fantasy of them. Heâd told Buck once that growing up with a father like his, and then spending the majority of his adult years firmly tucked away in the closet, that heâd wholeheartedly believed that a true love or romance was not in his own future. That living vicariously through two people on screen, even if they were straight, was the closest thing heâd get to a happy ending.
Heâd very much changed his mind since heâd met his Evan, but still Buck had been determined to give him all the romantic moments heâd missed out on over his life.
It started with surprising Tommy with a candle lit dinner ready when he came home from work.. Which ended with Buck being bent over the table as dessert. Not quite the emotional response he was going for, but hey who was he to say no to that!
Tommy mentioned once a book he loved as kid and Buck spent three weeks hunting down a first edition. He was certainly blown away by Bucks thoughtfulness and showed him immediately by getting on his knees. Again Buck was happy to oblige - he always was - but it still wasnât the response he was truly hoping for.
He wanted to sweep Tommy entirely off his feet. Woo him to the point of breathlessness. Make him feel so unbelievably cherished and loved that he forgets out to speak.
And then the idea hit him.
Oddly, while watching Carrie.
âMan, the worst thing that happened at our senior prom was Mikey Jacobs spiking the punch. I still canât drink Jack Danielsâ Buck reminisced.
âBetter than pigs blood, babe. Or, you know, the revenge by telekinesis.â
âTrue. What about you? What was yours like?â
Tommy sighed. âI, uh, didnât go to mine.â
âReally?â Buck looked at him in surprise. âI mean granted you were secretly gay, but I know the girls would have been killing each other to get the Tommy Kinard to take them to prom.â The idea seemed to bring such joy to his Evans face that Tommy almost didnât want to admit the reality.
âI appreciate the support, babe, but I wasnât exactly drowning in dates with girls.â He laughed âI was 6â2â by the time I was 15 but I didnât know how to build muscle or even eat right for my bodyâs needs. I went from 5â8â and over weight to 6â2â and skinny, which my dad just loved to point out constantly. I was super insecure and had zero confidence to ask a a girl out.â A look of sadness flickered across his face.
âDid people not go stag at your school?â
Tommy huffed a cold laugh. âOnly fags and virgins go stag to a prom, Thomas.â He mimicked his fatherâs voice. Buck gently rubbed Tommys arm.
âIâm sorry you had to hear shit like that from your dad. You deserved so much better than that.â
âI know that now and mostly because of you.â He pressed a chaste kiss to Bucks lips and smiled.
âGood.â He smiled back, already formulating his next plan to woo the shit out of his boyfriend.
This one took a few weeks of planning but Buck was certain it would knock Tommys socks off.
Tommy was surprised that Lucy had suddenly turned up at Harbour on what was supposed to be her day off. Even more surprised when she offered, nay - insisted - that she take Tommys remaining 24 hours of his 48 hours shift.
In the end their Captain had to practically shove him out of the harbour doors to get him out. He eventually relented and left for home.
Approaching their front door he noticed a note in handwriting so bad it had to be Bucks. God did he love him but the manâs penmanship looked like a doctorâs. A drunk doctorâs. Wearing a plaster cast. Thankfully after almost a year together heâd learned how to decipher Evans scribbles.
âGo straight upstairs.
Shower and get dressed..â
âHuh?â
âDonât âhuhâ me, Kinard. Just do it. Then meet me in the dining room.
P.s: love you, Your Evan.â
Tommy chuckled to himself but did as he was asked and walked straight up the stairs to their bedroom. He was surprised, and confused, to see his tux freshly pressed and laid out on their bed.
After showering and dressing he made his way back down found himself knocking on his own dining room door for permission to enter.
âCome in.â Evans voice called from inside.
Tommy opened the door his mouth and eyes opened wide at what he saw.
The table had been pushed to the side wall, with a black cloth draped over the top, atop of which was a punch bowl filled with an orangey pink liquid. Surrounding it was lots of bowls filled with candy and chips and other kids favourite snacks.
A shiny disco ball hung from the ceiling with paper decorations swinging from the Center of the room and up to the corners. Twinkling lights hung all around giving the room a gorgeous warm glow.
And standing in the centre of the dining room, under the disco ball, in a tux that fit him so fucking perfectly was the most beautiful man Tommy had ever seen.
âWhatâs.. whatâs going on?â Tommy asked not being able to hide his smile.
Evan took a few steps toward him and held out his hand. âThomas Kinard. Will you go to prom with me?â Every time Tommy thinks he canât fall in love with Evan any more, heâs proven wrong.
For the next two hours they do nothing but dance like idiots, drink spiked punch (tequila instead of Jack Danielâs this time - buck would actually like to remember this prom), and snack on junk food.
Tommy couldnât remember the last time he had let loose like this. Or even smiled this hard. Evan was by far the greatest joy to ever come into his life. He reminded Tommy of what fun was, what joy was and what it felt like to be truly unashamedly himself - something that nobody had ever made him felt safe enough to truly be.
Buck knew heâd achieved his task of sweeping Tommy off his feet tonight already, but there was one more thing he decided, last minute, that he was going to do.
Buck picked up his phone and searched for the perfect song, settling on Songbird by Eva Cassidy because it was on the soundtrack to Tommyâs favourite movie Love, Actually. He didnât even need to do anything because as soon as the opening bars played through the speaker Tommy instantly knew what it was and pulled Buck into a slow dance.
They swayed slowly and silently for a few moments just breathing in the perfect moment with each other with Tommys arms wrapped around Bucks waist and Bucks arms around his neck.
âSo, not that Iâm complaining, babe, what with all the romancing lately?â Tommy asked.
âYou deserve it.â Was Bucks simply reply. Tommy looked at him with a mixture of adoration with a hint of confusion. âYou go out of your way to show me how much you love me and to do all these sweet and romantic things for me, but you deserve them too. You deserve to be shown how much you mean to me also.â Tommy was looking at him with those eyes again - the big bright ones Buck first saw right before Tommy had kissed him for the first time - and he had to use every bit of strength to hold back from jumping him, because he needed to say this before his courage disappeared.
âI see how you look at these little moments in the romcoms you love and I hate that you never got to experience them, so I wanted you to have some of them of your own. Our own.
âPlus, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to tell you just how much I love you. To tell you how unbelievably happy that you walked, well, flew into my life. To tell you that I have never in all of my life thought that I deserved to have someone so beautiful and kind and wonderful and just fucking incredible as you. And.. and to ask you to marry me.â
Tommy blinked. Did he hear that correctly?
âWh-what?â
âI know, itâs.. weâve not even been together a full year yet, and full disclosure I didnât even know I was going to ask until like 10 minutes ago so I donât have a ring, and-â Tommy grabbed Buck either side of his neck and pressed his lips firmly against his. When Tommy pulled back his cheeks were wet with tears cascading over his beautiful lower lashes. Finally, Buck thought.
âHold that thought.â He said simply before quickly leaving the room. He took 2 steps at a time as he hurtled upstairs, before running back down seconds later back to Buck still stood in the center of the dining room.
He lifted up his palm on top of which was a dark blue velvet box, opened, with 2 tarnished silver bands of differing sizes, each with a shiny silver strip running around the centre of each of them.
âYou bought.. how long have you..â Buck could barely get the words out. His eyes kept flicking between Tommys beautiful face and the rings in his hand.
âAbout a month. Well, I ordered them custom made about 2 months ago but Iâve had them for a month.â
âCustom?â Was all Buck could get out.
Tommy pointed to the shiny part of the rings. âA couple of years ago I had this rescue and the husband of the woman we were life flighting was telling us about how they met. Anyway, he said that his family had this tradition of putting something sentimental in the band to give to your partner as.. sort of as a piece of you.
You know that piece of metal that sits on my desk in the study?â
âY-yeah. Itâs part of the blade from the first chopper you flew when you transferred to harbour.â
âRight. Well, it now has a little chunk missing.â He laughed. âTransferring to the 217 was the first piece of me finally becoming who I always wanted to be. Youâre the last piece, Evan.â
Buck had this whole night planned - minus is own spontaneous proposal - and had wanted Tommy to be the feeling pleasantly surprised and loved.. yet here he was himself being loved so fucking beautifully it was taking everything within him to not break apart right there.
âWhatâs-whatâs in your ring?â He asked.
âWell, that was.. a little trickier. And full disclosure on my part - Maddie knows because I had to enlist her help.â
âOkay..â
âItâs kinda difficult to pick something when your boyfriend loves so many things,â he teased âand then Maddie.. she gave me a little silver bracelet that she was given as a kid and-â
Buck inhaled a breath when he realised what bracelet Tommy was referring to. Immediately his whole chin began to quiver and tears fell from his eyes.
âThe one that Daniel gave to her.â
âYeah.â Tommy said softly. âShe told me how heâd seen it one day when he was with your grandparents when he was 6 or something and insisted he give to her for her birthday.â Buck nodded, not being able to find words. âShe said that this would be something that would be special to you because you never got to know him. Is-is that okay?â
Buck looked from the ring back to up Tommy; eyes completely blurred from tears pouring out of him.
âI.. this..â He could always find peace in Tommy eyes but this was all so.. it was overwhelming and.. he took a deep breath to try and calm himself.
âTommy, this whole night was-was supposed to be about you.. a-and showing you just how much to mean to me and then..â he blew out another breath trying to center himself âand then here you are with the most beautiful fucking gesture, I.. I canât..â The tears flowed once again and this time he threw his arms around Tommys neck and held on tight. Tommy, as he always did, reciprocated and held him tightly back.
âI love you so fucking much.â He cried into Tommys neck. Tommys own tears were flowing too, now.
âGod I love you, too, Evan. More than I could ever even show you.â
âI donât know-â Buck pulled back with a laugh âI think you hit it out of the ball park with this one.â He gently thumbed Tommys tears from his cheeks. He looked closer at the rings.
âAre there inscriptions?â
âOnly on yours.â Tommy replied, sniffing.
âFor my Evan. Always.â Buck read out loud. Tommy wiped away Bucks next tears that came. They were the only type of tears he ever wanted to illicit from his Evan.
âI thought you would what to decide what to inscribe on my ring. Can I put it on you now?â Tommy asked.
âUh, technically I should be putting on you because I asked first. Actually, you havenât actually said yes by the way..â
Tommy reached up an gently placed back an errant curl that had fallen onto Bucks forehead and looked at him with those big earnest eyes again.
âYes.â
Buck took the ring out of the box and slid it onto Tommy finger, then Tommy did the same with Bucks ring.
Buck gripped the lapels of Tommys tux and pulled him into a kiss. They both sighed into it. It wasnât a kiss that theyâd shared before; this one was full of promise, of hope, a future - the rest of their lives as husbands.
Tommy pulled back for a second âBy the way, I did promise Maddie that the second we became engaged that we would face time her. Whereâs your phone?â
âShe can wait a little bit.â Buck replied aiming his lips at Tommys neck.
âYou sure? She might be mad.â Buck lifted up and looked Tommy in the eyes.
âTommy, thereâs only one thing I want to do right now and it absolutely does not involve my sister.â
âShe can wait a little bit.â Tommy repeated wrapping his arms around his Evans neck and pulling him in for another deep kiss.
#tommy kinard#911 abc#bucktommy#911#911onabc#buck x tommy#911 buck#evan buckley#evan buck buckely#bucktommyfic#tevan fic#bucktommy fic#bucktommy prompts#911 prompts#cvo prompts
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"my honeybee, come and get this pollen!"
synopsis : hc's of leo valdez and his gf !!
pairing : leo valdez x daughter of apollo!reader
warnings : swearing / cursing, intentional lower case writing, kissing, nothing crazy tho!
requested ? yes! by the amazing @sunnitheapollokid đ
masterlist : coming soon!
nai yapps : HI BABIES đ¤ first time writing hcs, hope ya like!! it turned out longer than expected so yeah haha, not proofread so please don't mind the grammatical errors đ
on the radio . . . "espresso" by sabrina carpenter
in my opinion, leo is kinda insecure (just like percy) so it took him a while to realize that you liked him back !!
in the meanwhile, he would fangirl about you to his friends
oh and trust me, they were SICK AND TIRED of that boy
"guys, did you see the way she looked at me at dinner??"
(which he told them like for the 1293858th time that week)
#delusionalking
and don't act like you didn't do the same thing as well, because we all know damn well you did
yapping about leo to annabeth, silena and piper at the cabin 10 sleepovers is a weekly (almost daily) occurrence
like i've mentioned in the beginning, leo's probably really insecure, so he uses his flirty and cheeky personality to cover it up!
which has you giggling and kicking your feet
because that boy flirts with you more than anyone else
oh and when he found out that you work at the infirmary with will solace?
it was his most visited place other than bunker 9
leo is naturally a really clumy person (me too lmao) so he injures himself on accident quite often when working on something in bunker 9, but one way or another he'll find an excuse to come visit you there (even if he's not hurt) and say shit like
"you come here often?" or "can you kiss it better?"
with a shit-eating grin as you heal one of his injuries
since you're a child of the music god, you have AMAZING taste in music
so every once in a while you'd come over at bunker 9 and play some of your music while leo works on his projects
you'd be on his bed, painting away or even working on poems
speaking of poems!
you once wrote a poem about leo and after building up courage (with the help of your girlfriends) you read it out to leo!!
and let me tell you, that boy turned as red as a tomato
and he couldn't stop thinking about that poem FOR DAYS.
like girl you had that boy wrapped around your finger đ (hence the song i choose for this blog)
after that, he decided it's time to ask you to be his gf!! (screaming)
him and his friends (percy, jason and frank) have been planning and scheming on the best way leo can ask you out
since percy has a big mouth, he told the news to his girlfriend, annabeth.
your and leo's friends were pretty much one big friend group, so you guys hung out quite often
soon enough, piper and silena found out about leo's plan too
SOO HERE'S HOW I IMAGINE HOW'D LEO WOULD ASK YOU TO BE HIS GF!!
basically, the group decided to hang out at the beach is Montauk
"LAST ONE IN THE SEA IS A ROTTEN EGG!"
percy yelled, all the boys racing to the sea, except for leo.
"boys." annabeth muttered, rolling her eyes, causing piper, silena and you to giggle.
you had your beach towel spread out onto the sand, your tote bag to your left and a book in your hands.
leo sat at your right hand side, applying sunscreen onto his arms and upper body as he watched the boys splash and attempt to drown each other.
"could you please apply sunscreen on my back, y/n?"
you look up from your book you're reading and place your bookmark between the pages. a smile grew on your face as you nod, signaling leo to turn so his back faces you. he obliged and did as you said, he pulled his knees closer to his chest leaned his head onto his arms. (kinda like this I'm bad at explaining haha đ)
hours pass by, the group has all been at the sea having a splash fight, then also played volleyball. now they wanted to have some snacks and drinks
and of course the group decided to pick you and leo to go get the snacks
you, oblivious to their intentions, started putting your flip flops on. as you weren't looking, leo shot a look at the smirking teenagers he calls his friends. piper and frank were showing thumbs up for support. while jason and percy gave him a knowing look. leo saw annabeth mouthing "now or never" to him.
"lee, you ready to go?"
he put his attention back on to you and nodded, heading to the corner shop with you next to him. he glanced back to his friends one last time, seeing them look at the pair walking off and cheering for leo, but silently of course, so you wouldn't suspect anything.
after you two have bought the snacks and drinks the friendgroup wanted, you head back to the beach.
leo noticed the group playing volleyball again, and used to opportunity to confess now. He stopped walking, standing at this area.
"hey, y/n. could we talk for a sec?"
you didn't think much of it and nodded, walking closer to where leo was standing.
then, his nervousness got the best of him and that boy just started rambling.
"so i just wanted to say that Iive liked you for REALLY long time. like a i like you A LOT and I really want to be together with you but i'm not sure if you feel the same and i really don't want to ruin this friendship. but i've never felt this way about anyone andâ"
then he got interrupted with kiss!! (by you of course)
he froze, definitely not expecting that. but quickly kissed you back. his hands on your waist, pulling you closer as your hands wrapped behind his neck.
you soon pulled away, both of you catching your breaths.
"i like you too, leo."
a bright smile appeared on leo's face, him leaning his forehead onto yours.
"can i be your boyfriend, y/n?"
you act like you're thinking about, rubbing your chin jokingly, but ultimately day yes.
he kisses you again, but pulled away quickly as you two heard screaming and cheering from the back.
the pair turn around to see their friendgroup being the cause of this loud noise.
piper, annabeth and silena were the ones screaming, holding each other's hands as they jump up and down like little girls. While the boys were cheering and clapping, Percy even started jumping up and down with the girls. (LMFOAOA DON'T TELL ME HE WOULDN'T DO THAT)
anyhow! that's how i imagine it'd happen
leo and you are both you clingy mfs, even before dating. but now you two are glued to the hip.
he definitely calls you cute nicknames in spanish (#latinoking)
"mi amor" , "cariĂąo" , "mi vida" , "hermosa" , "mi corazĂłn" , "mi sol", "mami/mamas"
he loves, and i mean LOVES when you help him with his projects (cough this fic cough)
whenever a piece of your jewelry (earrings, necklaces, ect..) breaks, you already know your boyfriend is there to fix it for you.
despite being the daughter of the sun god, your hands were always FREEZING. that's why you had your fire boy to warm you up
that boy is basically your human heater. while you two would cuddle in the summer, you would get so hot while being in his embrace, but you just suffered, because his grip is strong as steel.
your guys' dynamic is sunshine x sunshine protecter!! (the protecter being you because leo doesn't do shit to stand up for himself)
#1 princess treatment giver!!
"baby, i can get out of the car myselfâ"
"shh, don't worry about it mami."
wow this is getting way too long woopsie
in conclusion, leo valdez is the best boyfriend ever and you two are the power couple of chb!!!
THE END!!
â đđđđ, đđđ.
taglist (pls tell me if I should remove / add you!!) : @thesnshinee @graceslcver @gentlehue @ssparksflyy @coolestgirlintheworld112 @ghostlyloversworld @percyslcver @lovely-calypso @woodlandwrites @brainsofseaweed @mershellscape @hopelesslyromanticshark @canonfeminine
#leo valdez x y/n#leo valdez x you#leo valdez x reader#leo valdez#percy pjo#percy jackson#percabeth#frank zhang#piper mclean#annabeth chase#silena beauregard#jason grace#leo valdez x daughter of apollo
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HAPPY HALLOWEEN GRANDMA!! You already know what I want, nay, what I crave when the days get shorter and the only thing that brings me any solace is my favorite rarepare. Please, Tonks x Percy siat - specifically something abouth Tonks telling Percy about her powers maybe, just an incredibly intimate scene please and thank you đŠđ§Ą
The first time Percy rushes to the St. Mungo's on the heal of a battle and bursts into Tonk's room, he doesn't understand why he'd needed to threaten his way in in the first place. She's stripped to her underwear and looks perfectly fine.
But there are three healers surrounding her and completely ignoring him. "Time?" the oldest asks, her hair pure white and her face a layer of wrinkles.
Tonks closes her eyes. "Eighty seconds."
"External first," she says briskly. "It doesn't do us any good if you bleed out."
She breathes out.
Then blood floods across her body, soaking the bed instantly as wounds big and small erupt over her skin. In some places he sees flashes of what he thinks are bone.
Tonks doesn't scream as magic starts flying, and he doesn't either, keeping himself plastered to the wall.
"Internal," the healer says.
What little of her skin he can see beneath the blood pales and they're casting more healing spells, longer and more complicated the any he's heard before.
"Head," she says. "Go slow."
Tonks swallows and then there's another rush of blood as her eyes roll and she passes out and all three of the healers are flinging spells with a speed and intensity he didn't know was possible.
He's almost grateful that he can't see what injury they're treating.
Then the other two step back and the old healer casts a diagnostic spell that Percy tries to interpret and can't. Her shoulders drop and she says, "Good," casting a scourgify to take care of the blood and pulling the blanket over her with a flick of her wand.
She turns, noticing Percy for the first time. Instead of anger, she just raises an eyebrow. "You're the boyfriend, then?"
He really hates what that implies about how often Tonks needs to be treated by healer quite this talented. "Is she going to be okay?"
His stomach had twisted itself in nots but it finally starts ease when she gives a short nod. "We'll let her get some rest and keep her overnight from observation." She tilts her head to the side. "I'd kick you out, citing the no visitors policy for this ward, but you're already here. Seems like a big of wasted effort."
"A bit," he agrees, pulling a chair next to Tonks's bedside and collapsing into it. "Thank you."
~
Tonks wakes up slowly, feeling the hospital sheets that she hates with the smell she can't stand and she's already trying to figure out how she can get herself released early without bringing Nanu's wrath down on her.
She pushes herself upright - or tries to. She can't mover her arm.
She looks down, alarmed, but her arm is just being used as a pillow.
By Percy, who's asleep and hunched over her bed. Percy, who needed to be coaxed and cajoled into leaving his desk for so much as a tea is here. He doesn't even have any scrolls or work spready out. She wouldn't blame him if he didn't, but he's just here, and from the way his clothing's rumpled he's been here for a while.
Tonks's heart feels so full.
She's going to marry him.
He only just accepted that they were dating, so she'll give him some time before introducing the concept of marriage, but she knows. This man is going to be her husband someday.
#hi!#prompt answers#prompts are closed#asks#lance-with-a-chance-of-anxiety#harry potter#siat#and that's it for halloween prompts! hooray!
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nai x reader
gothic vampire au
cw: insinuation that reader is maybe kept against her will. or kinda likes it if she is. yandere.
***
for weeks, the good doctor draws blood from you as gently and carefully as possible.
âdrink, my girl.â doctor conrad encourages after taking another pint of blood from you. âiâll not have you pass out on my watchâlord nai would be displeased.â
you let go of a puff of breath, a little irritated.
âlord nai would only care if i dropped dead, since i wouldnât be able to provide him with fresh blood.â you remark, sinking into the settee with a sour little pout.
âoh, nonsense.â conrad says, moving the cup of tea closer to you. âlook where he keeps youâat the food brought to you and the garments made for you.â
at that, you spare a little glance around your quarters.
it is lovelyârich in color and texture, deep blues and violets. a plush, lace-trimmed bed and velvet curtains over beautiful, arched windows. a little balcony for fresh air. a large basin for warm, milky soft baths.
youâre adorned in a silk dressing gown, buttery against your skin.
your closet is full of them.
âhe only keeps me around because he has toâhe abhors humans. he wonât even look at me.â you reply.
âif he abhorred you, he wouldnât keep you safe here, away from other humans.â conrad replies. âor heâd keep you in chains, in a cage somewhere, barely alive.â
âa gilded cage is still a cage.â you sing.
âi always liked birds. i had some as a child.â
lord naiâs voice makes you jump.
you stand, surprised, which makes the blood rush from your head, âlord naiââ
his gaze only flicks to you for a moment before he says, âout, doctor.â
and conrad hurriedly packs up his equipment, bustling and bumbling in the silence that grows heavier with each passing moment. he scuttles out shortly after, leaving you alone with nai.
dizziness sweeps in.
you both look at each other.
you waver.
then nai picks up the cup of tea and offers it to you.
âsit,â he says simply, âand drink.â
you sink back down into the settee as if compelled and nai hands you the cup of tea carefully. your hands are shaking somewhat and you try to keep the tremor out as he hands it to you.
the tea is still warm.
âiâll have food brought up to you.â nai says then, âyouâre weak, it seems.â
âiâm fine,â you say back.
âand here you were, just complaining.â he sighs, turning away from you and towards the windowâthe birds outside flutter and chirp, wings beating, song high on the wind. nai glances back at you, âdrink.â he says again
you obey this time, bringing the rim to your lips. itâs mellow and earthy. a tang of lemon, maybe.
âis your gilded cage not to your liking?â nai asks, returning to watch the birds outside, they flash in dashes of brown and taupe, a sudden red. a burst of blue or streak of yellow.
âno, itâsââ you swallow, peering down at the tea wobbling in your cup, âmy accommodations are lovely.â
âthen what do you lack?â nai asks, finally turning away from the window to face you again, âwhat have i not given you?â
there is an undercurrent of frustration in his voice; it genuinely displeases him in some way. but youâre not sure how. perhaps unhappy blood is bitter. perhaps he prefers the taste of you when youâre relaxedâ
âi donâtââ you try to get out, but he suddenly crosses to to you, so fast itâs almost startling. you fluster as he appears beside you, sitting on the settee with you now.
âthen why do you pout?â he hisses, âwhy do you whine?â he glances at the cup in your hands, the way they tremble, making the glass clink against its saucer. âkeep drinking.â he then commands.
you take another sip, deeper than before, and swallow it down slowly. he waits for you, tense and poised beside you.
when you place the cup back into the saucer with another soft clink, you finally say, âcompanionship.â
âcompanionship?â he parrots.
âis the only thing you havenât given me.â
he sits with this for a moment, straightening his back, jaw ticking.
âiâm lonelyââ you add, âkept here, with no one else. i hardly see you.â
the admission is small, soft. a little trembly and you think itâs because of the blood that had been recently drawn. you take another sip to swallow this down, to try and clear your throat.
nai looks you over, gaze slow and raking.
âhumans are so needy,â he sneers, standing again, and moving away from you in a flash of pale color. he returns to the window, refusing to face you. you can see heâs tense all over, sharp and tight, holding his posture with rigidness.
you speak carefully;
âitâs all i want for nowâyouâve taken care of everything else.â
the knot in his shoulders loosens. he hums at that. silence stretches, except for the faint, muffled sound of the birdsong outside.
âiâll return later to bring you to the garden.â he finally says.
you startleâ
two visits in one day is unheard of.
âwhy?â you ask, little heart thumping. are you in trouble?
nai turns back to you, calmer than before. his eyes, pale like the morning sky, slide back to you. over you. you wonder if he can hear the fluttering of your heart, like a birdâs wings that beat and jump.
you shudder a little. and when he smiles faintly, coldly, you see a flash of his fang the way the birds flash behind himâthere and gone, quick and brilliant;
âbecause i take care of whatâs mine.â
#i have a whole au in my head of this just know that#cielo rambles!#cieloâs writing!#cielo writes!#nai x reader#millions knives x reader
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HEART OF A WOMAN. we ainât spoke in so long, probably put me in the past. i can still get you wet, and i can still make you laugh.
01, CHAPTER ONE. OLD SPARKS.
ju speaks. whoâs catching my word play for this chapter ooouuu.. iâm having so much fun writing them already and yes, mayaâs gonna be a problem (i am just so predictable). pairing. wnba!paige bueckers x fem!oc. warnings. sexual innuendos. kinda content too? idk this fic feeds you all.
present day, may, 2025.
los angeles still doesnât feel real.
itâs like a whole new game out here, and iâve been telling myself i can handle it. going first in the draft was wildâiâd dreamt of that moment since i was a kid, but hearing my name called, realizing it was real, felt different. laâs been something else too, this city thatâs both too big and somehow feels small once youâre in it. iâve got an apartment with this insane view too. floor to ceiling windows, sunlight flooding in every morning, palm trees out front like something off a postcard, but it doesnât quite feel like home yet. i guess i thought maybe it would by now.
the teamâs been great, though. down to the vets, the coaching staff, the media team⌠every single one of them welcomed me like iâve always belonged here, and that makes things easier. cam threw this party tonight to really celebrate me being here, not just another pr event, but like⌠i donât know, like they actually wanted to get to know me better. her backyardâs all polished up. the gates hold up some fairy lights, and the smell of barbecue just tops it all off.
mayaâs been around since day one, practically the second i landed here. sheâs one of our coordinatorsâsmart, organized, and just enough older than me. stanford grad, of course, which sheâs mentioned just enough times that i know sheâs proud of it. thereâs something good about her. yeah, sheâs good. she knows how to handle herself, thatâs for sure.
nailea hasnât been around. i thought iâd see her by now, maybe even catch lurking during one of my practices or just⌠run into her somewhere. i mean, iâm sure she wouldnât quit her job because of me. sheâs been quiet, out of sight. which is fine. we havenât really talked since before the draftâif thatâs what youâd call it. itâs probably for the best. i donât think she really wants to talk anyway.
iâm mid-sentence, talking to rae and rickea about their pregame rituals when maya steps up, her manicured hand resting casually on my slouched shoulder like it belongs there. she laughs at something rae says, smiling, and i feel myself ease into the conversation a little more.
raeâs all animated, talking about how she wonât step onto the court without this neon scrunchie she swears by. iâm leaning in to give her grief for it when i catch something in my peripheryâsomeone, actually.
naileaâs here. at my welcome to the league party, maybe just coming by to say she showed up. iâm sure cam would kill her if she didnât, they got pretty close last year. she looks like she just stepped out of my memories, if you think about that memory everyday.
i suck in, turning in attempt to not make myself seen. then, rae, three jell-o shots deep and definitely feeling it, pats my thigh in excitement and grins wide. ânai! câmere!â she calls her over, completely missing how iâm trying not to look too invested.
i bite my lip, turning my head back over. i see how she hesitates, and then she looks at me. thereâs no emotion, not a single ounce of longing or surprise. she looks at me like iâm nothing. it hurts more than iâd ever admit, but at the same time, i get it. i donât exactly have the right to expect anything else.
her eyes shift to the others, weighing her options, probably playing out how the entire encounter would go in her head, but raeâs insistence doesnât really give her much of a choice. she flashes us a grin, though iâm sure it isnât for me, before she slowly waltzes over.
my eyes follow her like some unconscious habit until sheâs almost in reach. as she comes closer, i find myself sizing her up, cataloging the way her hair falls just right, how her shirt hangs off her shoulders. then, out of nowhere, rickea shoves a finger into my ear from my left, and i flinch, turning to see her arched eyebrows silently demanding that i lock in. i donât question itâi do. a little bit.
ânai handles a good chunk of our pr. sheâs doing game day operations this year too,â rae cuts through. she was on some paid internship last year, testing out every role the sparks had to offer to see what she liked. she moved up. got the job.
i donât know why it stings that sheâs doing good without me.
âwe know eachââ i begin.
âwe went to high school toââ nai says at the same time as me, and i look at her. rickea is stifling back a laugh beside me, and nai finishes her sentence.
âpaige and i went to high school together.â she says, and i stay silent. high school? is that all i am now? a high school buddy?
raeâs grin grows wider, and sheâs so excited about it i can barely make out her words. âsheâs so great, and basically our backbone now,â she says, nudging naileaâs shoulder. âif it werenât for her, iâd be late to half my interviews, right?â she laughs, a little too loud.
âguess you owe her then,â i say simply, forcing a grin. naiâs eyes flash to mine, but theyâre off me just as quick. i let mine stay, squinting as maya begins to ramble.
âand she makes my job way easier.â mayaâs fingers tap against my shoulder, almost like sheâs staking a claim. âyou ever need someone to keep you in line, paige, sheâs your girl,â she adds, smiling at nai, though thereâs some unfamiliarity to it. i can tell that they know each other, just not well enough iâm assuming.
naiâs eyes drop to mayaâs hand, just a quick glance, but itâs enough to make me hyper-aware of the touch. her gaze returns to my face, a single eyebrow raised in that subtle way thatâs more telling than words. like sheâs already put it all together, and she doesnât need to say a thing. instinctively, i shift, shrugging mayaâs hand off with a casual roll of my shoulder, trying to mask it as if iâm just adjusting my posture.
nai doesnât react, but her mouth twitches, a hint of a smirk, there and gone.
she lets out a soft laugh as i lean more against the table now, and i caught the way maya dropped her hand to her side. âi think paige has got it handled.â
i raise an eyebrow, leaning back just a little. âcould always use the backup.â
naiâs eyes flash with a quick, knowing glint as she tilts her head, that slight smirk of hers appearing like sheâs been waiting for an opening. âbackup?â she repeats, nearly cheerful. i hated her tone. âthought you were more into⌠side options than backups, paige.â
itâs subtle, just low enough that only i catch the full weight of it, but it lands. i let out a low chuckle, stroking my chin and licking my lips. âaight,â i say, swallowing down any reaction, âi set myself up for that.â
maya gives me a sidelong look, sensing the tension but probably not quite getting it. nai laughs softly, a quick, dismissive sound that shouldnât hit as hard as it does. itâs almost like sheâs proud of getting that dig in. i cross my arms over my chest, and for some reason, i canât contain my own smile.
rickea jumps in then, catching the vibeâor maybe just rescuing me. âanyway!â she says, her voice bright, easing into some story about some mascot switch-up from last year nai had to handle. i nod along, pretending iâm invested, though every part of me is still reeling from naiâs words, her laugh, the way she looked at me like she had me all figured out.
but maybe thatâs what she wants me to think.
the backyardâs emptied out now, save for a few stray bottles and a couple of plastic jello cups scattered across the tables. i slide the glass door open and step inside, the house now filled with some low music from a record player. i was planning to find cam, to thank her for throwing this whole thing together. but when i come into the kitchen, itâs nai i see, her sleeves rolled up, forearms wet, scrubbing out a vase under the sink.
sheâs focused, eyebrows furrowed just slightly, and i catch myself looking just a second too long before she looks up herself, catching me in the act. she pauses for a moment, her hands stilled under the water before she continues.
âdidnât take you for the clean up crew,â she mumbles, a little low that i almost donât hear it over the running water.
i shrug, poking my bottom lip out. âfigured i owed cam for putting this together,â i say, eyes still fixed on her. ânothinâ like a little gratitude, right?â
she lets out a little scoff, eyes still on the vase, fingers working over the smooth glass, rinsing it under the stream. âcamâs got enough gratitude coming her way,â she murmurs, and i canât really read the implication. âshe doesnât need more from you.â
the words are light, almost casual, but they land with an edge that sticks. i take a slow step closer, letting the sliding door click shut behind me as i stand by it, almost like iâm stuck.
âwell,â i start, beginning to stroll closer with my hands tucked in my pockets, âmaybe iâm here because i wanted to check in. see how youâre doing.â
her eyes cut to me briefly, unimpressed. âiâm good, paige,â she says, letting the vase drip dry on a towel, and turning her attention to the next one. ânever been better, actually.â
âgreat,â i say, not breaking eye contact, even as she keeps hers on the dishes, hands slowing just slightly. âthen you wonât mind the company.â
she lifts an eyebrow, smirking, and i feel my pulse spike. âcompany?â she repeats, cocking her head as she pauses, hands resting on the edge of the sink, she says, âi think iâve had enough of yours for a lifetime.â
i wiggle my eyebrows at her. âaw, donât be like that, nai.â i canât help the laugh that slips out, soft and a little cocky. âwhereâd you pick up all this lilâ attitude at?â i manage to get a little closer with each word until iâm rounding the island. she knows iâm there, close, and trying to ignore it probably.
she sighs, setting the vase down with a clink that sounds just a little too deliberate before picking up the last one. âlife has a way of teaching you things. people, too.â she cuts her eyes my way, just barely, still trying to act like iâm not right in her space.
âoh, so now iâm a life lesson?â i murmur, stepping so that iâm almost right beside her, leaning on the counter. âbut youâre still here. helpinâ clean up my party.â
she hesitates, and i can see her jaw tense just slightly. âiâm here for cam.â
âcam, huh?â i murmur, my eyes never leaving her. âand what about me?â
she laughs, a little breathless, and itâs the first real sign of her softening. iâll take whatever i can get. âyouâre somethinâ else. you know that?â
of course i know that. she knows i know that, she used to tell me it all the time. she reaches to cut the water off, flipping the vase over on the counter to dry. âgood somethinâ or bad somethinâ?â i ask, inching just a little closer as i tuck my bottom lip between my teeth.
âdepends on the day,â she replies simply, and i can tell sheâs trying to occupy herself as she rearranges the glasses.
i smile, facing her as i lean an arm on the counter. âthat a challenge?â i lick my lips. âyou know i love a good challenge.â
she scoffs lightly, rolling her eyes but staying put nonetheless. âdonât think youâre up for this one, bueckers.â
âoh, iâm up for it,â i counter, following her every move. âin fact, i thrive on it.â iâve managed to get so close now that i can smell the scent of her shampoo mingling with the faint floral notes of soap. i canât help but notice the newfound lightness to it too, and i realize she mustâve switched out some old with some new.
âmhm?â she asks, that smirk returning as she finally looks at me. i love when she hums like that, like iâve got her at loss for words or something. her gaze flicks down to my lips for just a heartbeat, but i catch it.
âyeah,â i whisper, testing the waters. âand iâm pretty good at winning.â
i can see the shift in her expressionâthe way her breath hitches just a bit. âand what do you think youâre gonna win?â itâs like it took everything in her to say that as she exhales.
i lean back slightly, just enough to meet her eyes fully, but my focus has found her lips again. âyou know what i want,â i say, and my voice is almost a whisper. âi think you know exactly what i want.â
thereâs a faint smirk on her face as she grips the counter. âno.â she says, seemingly very aware of my intentions as she shakes her head, but doesnât move an inch.
i let my tongue swarm my mouth hungrily. âjust one.â i practically beg.
she leans in, leaving a soft, fast peck on my lips, and iâm afraid it isnât enough for satisfaction. sheâs back staring, and before i get the chance to say anything about it, itâs like she already fought the doubts in her mind as she throws herself into me, lips crashing.
my lips press against hers in that familiar, heady rush that iâd almost convinced myself iâd forgotten. she doesnât pull awayâinstead, her hand slips up to my shoulder, the same one maya had her paws on just a couple hours ago, and fuck i can barely bring myself to think about that.
my hand finds her waist, gripping just enough to feel her press against me, her breaths shallow, matching mine. i want to rip her clothes off and take her here, no matter how uncordial that may be, but the universe seems to have other plans.
she tastes like everything iâve had time to reflect on, every memory i know she tried to bury. iâm rough, hands squeezing her waist so tight like iâm scared sheâll slip away if i let go.
but just as iâm getting lost in her, weâre interrupted by the sound of footsteps. we break apart instantly, spinning toward the door just in time to see cam step in, her eyes widening as she stops short, eyebrows lifting as she takes in the scene.
my tongue darts to the corner of my mouth as i place my hands behind my back awkwardly, as if to keep them from wandering. nai is smoothing out her shirt (the most obvious thing you could do in a situation like this), that guarded look slipping right back into place as she clears her throat.
âpaige was just leaving.â
#paige bueckers#paige bueckers x oc#paige bueckers fic#paige bueckers fanfiction#paige bueckers uconn#paige bueckers smut#paige bueckers x fem#lgbtq fanfiction#lgbtqia#wlw fanfic#wlw fiction#wlw smut#wlw blog#wlw yearning#paige bueckers blog
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