#awae x reader

[crescenthistory]

slight air and purging fire

Pairing: Barty Crouch Jr. x Reader

Summary: He's your person and, apparently, you're his flame. Your more-than-a-best-friend spends the evening with you when Regulus needs a break, and you're both happy for the excuse.

Words: 4.1k

Warnings: gn!reader, no use of y/n, pyromaniac!barty, best friends to lovers, undiscussed relationship, just sweet fluff, physical affection, barty is always a bit suggestive, vague references to barty's mental state/trauma, cuddling, banter, implied autistic!regulus, background bsf!moonwater

Note: i haven't written a full barty fic since december, this was so cathartic<33 i still have some small drabbles from my celebration to release but wanted to share this with you before. and yes the title is from shakespeare even though i reference woolf in this, sue me. much love xx

It wasn’t an as common occurrence anymore, as Regulus had become more grounded the closer he got to Remus, but it was an ingrained habit regardless – every now and again, the dark haired boy would come to pull at your sleeve and give you a look.

A desperate exhausted look that clearly read “come get your beast under control”.

Over the years of sharing a dorm with Barty, Regulus had grown not only passionately loyal and affectionate towards him, but also rather sensorially detached. Meaning that most days, he was able to just tune his best friend’s antics out when they were too overstimulating or in his face. When Barty either talked a mile a minute for too many minutes, couldn’t sit still or couldn’t help from physically engaging with Regulus in some capacity, causing him to switch his brain off to deal with all the inputs. However, even the best soldier occasionally needs backup, and lucky for all the boys in their dormitory, said backup waltzed into their lives in year three and had been the only one fully able to quiet and anchor the hotheaded boy.

Your friendship with Barty came as naturally as a sunrise when you were paired together for a Potions project – you were his first desk partner that could thread the balance of stopping him from blowing up your cauldron and still having fun. 

He adored you for it.

You found he wasn’t half bad either.

The nature of your relationship and dynamic changed over the years as you grew up side by side, but the overall sentiment remained the same; you were each other’s person. Barty managed to catch every aspect of you both metaphorically and physically, and with you, Barty could move at a regular pace without losing himself.

You became Regulus’ secret weapon rather quickly when you were integrated fully into their friend group. 

“How do you do it? Why is he… like that with you?” Regulus asked you once in fourth year when Barty had fallen asleep with his head in your lap after three days of refusing to sleep. 

His legs were hanging over each side of the sofa, one shoe mysteriously missing, but he seemed perfectly at peace in your lap. You carded your fingers gently through his hair, separating the green and brown strands with a small smile on your face. “Like what?”

“It’s like he goes quiet.”

You snorted. “Barty is never quiet, even when I’m around.”

Regulus gave you a so-so shrug. “Not literally – but he kind of is, though. He will always be Barty, but it’s like he’s more… at peace. With you.”

You didn’t know why at the time, but you couldn’t meet Regulus’ gaze since he started this line of questioning. “I don’t know. If he is, I’m grateful for it, though. He’s the best friend I’ve ever had.”

It was probably never fully platonic between you and Barty, you recognise now. Laying on your stomach in your dorm while reading a book only half-focussed with your mind straying away to silver piercings, canine-grins and that laugh. 

He was the best friend you could have, but more so in the same way a dog is or, you’d hope, a husband would be. You shook the thought from your head.

It was a slow development – while you became inseparable friends within a week, the journey away towards a spoken, outlined romantic relationship was a long one. Not in the same way a queue is long, though, more so a cross-country roadtrip with, well, your best friend. 

Barty hugged you properly for the first time a year into your friendship. He cried in front of you for the first time in fourth year, and held your hand in fifth year. Last year, he kissed you for the first time. 

It had been quiet in that complex way Regulus had tried to put into words, where it was very clearly Barty so it was far from calm, but there was a certain peace hanging over the moment anyway. He had been having nightmares the last few weeks of term, so the two of you had taken to co-sleeping in the Room of Requirement, with your dearest prefect Regulus covering for you. Originally, Barty had conjured up two beds, but you swiftly pushed them together and charmed the gap away, giving him some snarky comment about “be sensible, Junior” that he laughed loudly at. 

There was no suggestive intent behind it, not really, just an insatiable desire for closeness. The same desire that had Barty at your side like a magnet from all the way back in third year, the same desire that flared in you each time his father or his pain came near, as if you could protect him with an embrace. 

He would have told you that you could.

It wasn’t clear to you anymore how it began, how one thing led to another. All you knew was that several days into your arrangement, you were still acting like small kids at a sleepover, staying up late because you couldn’t help but giggle. You had been in a half-cuddle but far enough apart to laugh with your entire bodies – one moment you made eye contact with your faces close to each other, your giggles spilling out across his face, the next he was trying to swallow your sounds with his smiling lips. 

There had been a lot of kisses since then, and not too many words about it. 

You would have thought it would tear you apart to live like this, having crossed the boundary over from best friends to something more without outlining it – but as with everything else, this was Barty. There had been no real boundary to cross, it was just waves in water, hand in hand. You knew inexplicably that you were safe in his hands, heart included. 

The oddest aspect of it was discovering that you had discovered a new level of comfort when you thought those had already been exhausted. Lips on lips, lips on skin, air on skin, clothes wherever, hands everywhere. 

With your finger caressing the page, a smile was still faint on your lips, and so was his touch. 

You were brought out of your idyllic mental landscapes by a physical tug on your sleeve. 

Your eyes darted down to the fabric on your left arm, seeing the jumper ruffle as if someone pinched it and be dragged out, as if you were being pulled out of your bed. The sound that escaped you were equal parts laugh and sigh, endlessly endeared by Regulus’ determination to avoid social or overstimulating situations – going to the extent of crafting spells specifically to save him. 

You slapped absentmindedly on your arm, hoping it would notify him with the energy of “okay, okay, I’m on my way”, as you rolled out of bed and made for the stairs.

The development of your relationship with Barty hadn’t come up with your friends yet. Or, you hadn’t let it, always steering the conversation away when Dorcas gave you knowing looks or Regulus whispered with you. This once, you indulged yourself to be selfish and keep him to yourself for just a bit longer.

Which is part of the reason why you leaned over the railing overlooking the common room, whistling as you spotted your group of friends around their favourite fireplace.

Regulus sat in Remus’ lap on the edge of a settee, hiding his face in the crook of his neck, looking picturesque in a way that made your heart ache with happiness for him. Evan was draped across the other side of the settee, feeding grapes to Pandora sat cross-legged on the floor with Emmeline’s head in her lap. Dorcas was absent, likely out training with Marlene, which was a totally normal thing to do with your quidditch rival, shut up you guys.

Your dearest Barty was currently laying balanced on the back of the same settee his friends were in, casting sparkling spells above him, likely to entertain himself in the calm atmosphere.

You understood why Regulus called on you. 

At the sound of your whistle, your friends’ heads whipped around to look at you, recognising the specific tune you only used for them – them being mostly Barty. You got a few greeting cheers from Barty, Evan and Emmeline, but it was the former’s grin that made your own spread.

“B!” you yelled. “Come read with me.”

You could have gone down to sit with them, but the comfort of your dorm was too overpowering tonight. Plus Regulus really really hated when Barty played with physical fire, so you figured you were doing him a double favour, too.

Anyone else making the same request – or rather, demand – to Barty would have received a scoff or a pout, but for you, Barty simply rolled off of the back of the sofa and used the momentum of his fall to run towards the stairs. He ruffled Evan’s hair on the way who flipped him off without looking up.

“Later, losers, love ya,” Barty called as he made it to the bottom of the stairs. 

He took them two at a time and before you knew it he was in front of you, placing his hand right beside yours on the railing as he looked at you with a lop-sided grin. “Thought you’d resigned for the evening.”

You bumped your fingertips into his. “Sort of. Got bored, though.”

His grin widened as he pushed off the railing to walk backwards towards your vacant dorm. “Can’t have that, can we, darling?”

You shook your head with a smile and followed after him, leaving just enough time to look over your shoulder and lock eyes with Regulus, pointing two fingers from your own eyes to his before intertwining them in a symbol of friendship. Regulus rolled his eyes at you with a smile, but Remus – his clearly better half – blew you a kiss. 

When you moved your attention back on the short walk to your dorm, you caught just the end of Barty jogging ahead so he could open your door for you with a theatrical flourish. You paid it little mind, kissing his cheek in thanks as you moved in past him, not waiting to see his reaction, if there was one.

“Where’s your roomies tonight?” Barty’s tone was half-mocking, referring to the endless saga of your two constantly absent dormmates. They were lovely people but so scattered, always either with their various partners or at events or simply just missing somehow.

Though you could hardly criticise as you do guess this is a saga of three, considering how you occasionally would stay over at Barty’s or even the Room of Requirement. You three were a perfect match. 

“Don’t know honestly,” you replied as you made to lay back down on your bed, keeping slightly to the left side. “Something about a breakup for one of them, so either partaking in a good cry session with a friend or making up once again.”

Just a year or two ago, Barty would have transfigured your small dorm bed to extend so he could sprawl out across it to his heart’s content, but to your heart’s content, he didn’t this time – he just laid down on top of your duvet with you, turned over on his side and propping his head up on his hand. “Or maybe making out with someone else, if they know what’s right for them.” Barty knew all about your dormmate’s turbulent relationships from the nights he stayed over while they were there, ranting to the both of you.  

“Oh you know all about what’s right for them, do you?” Your voice was teasing as you got more comfortable on the bed, laying your book on your bedside table.

Barty scoffed, as if to say duh. “Weren’t you going to read to me, sweetheart?” He nodded his head towards the book your fingertips were still lingering on.

The smile that spread across your face was outside your control, but you still maintained an air of sarcasm. “I believe I asked you to come read with me, I didn’t say I would read to you,” you clarified with a raised brow. “And I didn’t think you actually would.”

Barty leaned across from you and nipped the book off the table to hand over to you, the small paperback and his hand barely fitting between you two given the cramped space. “I want to hear you read.” 

He said it matter-of-factly, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and you supposed it was. You would occasionally read to Barty when he needed help falling asleep, memories that though born from a bad situation rested fondly in your heart.

You took the book from him, opening it to the right page with one hand before looking up at him with appled cheeks. As soon as his hand was off the book, it settled on your hip instead, fingertips sliding beneath your jumper to rest against your skin there.

“Please,” he added when you didn’t reply right away. 

“Whatever my boy wants, right?” Your tone wound up being more affectionate than teasing. “Do you want it read softly or theatrically?”

When he tilted his head sideways to read the book’s spine, some of his hair fell into his eyes, which you promptly pushed back. “Is it possible to read Virginia Woolf theatrically?” he asked with a humoured tone.

“Oh, you have no idea. Obviously I have to do it theatrically now.”

Barty squeezed your hip as he all-but giggled. “Alright, show me the ropes then.”

He folded his arm to lay his head down to rest as his gaze fixated on your face as you read to him. Perhaps you would have felt self-conscious in any other situation, but with Barty’s legs tangling with yours, the scent of his shampoo filling your nose and his hums of approval, you were everything but. 

As you read, Barty pushed your jumper further up so that your side was exposed, enabling him to trace various patterns there while you read. Whether there was any sense to the chaos you wouldn’t know, eyes focussed on the page to give him the most proper experience of how theatrical Virginia Woolf truly could be. 

With Barty, time trickled by in an odd way. You felt as if you were spending centuries together without any of it wearing you down – in the sense that time passed quick but the minutes always carried more meaning when together. You got through two chapters, interrupted by long bouts of laughter when Woolf’s comedy struck through or when your attempt at one of the character’s accents thoroughly failed, before you began to tire out. 

His hand never left your side as you read, and when you laughed, Barty seemed to tackle you in a hug so he could feel every vibration of your laughter run through his own body. 

As you finished up the second chapter, a shiver ran down your spine for reasons you couldn’t quite pinpoint. Barty propped himself back up on his elbow to grab his wand from the nightstand and bring the duvet you were laying on to spread out over you without disturbing your position.

“Want to give that beautiful voice a break, darling?” Even as Barty asked, he was already gently – almost disproportionately so – taking the book from your hands and putting your water bottle into them instead.

You nodded as you put the bottle to your lips, swallowing greedy mouthfuls of water, though not regretting the activity in the slightest. Barty’s eyes followed the movement of your throat, eventually letting them trail up to meet your own as he took your bottle and placed it beside the bed with ease.

When you laid back down against your small mountain of pillows, Barty scooted closer to you and pushed your jumper back up where it had fallen down. He stared at his own fingers’ movements as he dragged just the tips over the curve of your hip, swirling around near your ribs before making the journey back down. He looked hypnotised by the movement, but your own eyes never left his face.

You heaved a large sigh, the one that drags itself from your lungs when you’re completely relaxed after a long day.

Without looking up, Barty asked, “Okay?” You were unsure if he was asking if you were okay, if his touching you were okay or something else entirely. 

Either way, the answer was: “Yes, love.”

At the term of endearment, Barty looked up at you at last, his teeth flashing as he smiled. He let his fingertips trail up the side of your body to your face as his eyes flitted across it, seeming increasingly content with what he found.

The silence was comfortable as you let him trace the lines of your face – your jaw up to your ear, cheekbones, browbones, forehead, nose, lips.

You almost wondered if you could have fallen asleep like this, safe and comfortable in this atmosphere he created that you almost dared call reverent, until he spoke again.

“My flame.” 

He said it absentmindedly as he caressed your face, almost as if he didn’t even notice he said it. His hand couldn’t stay still, using its quest on your face as a form of stimming, sensory seeking in his affection.

“Your what?” you asked quietly, humour laced into your voice that automatically tugged on the corners of his lips. 

“Flame,” he clarified, as if it was obvious. 

When he didn’t elaborate, you poked him teasingly in the ribs – simultaneously taking the opportunity to slip your hand up beneath his shirt to splay across his bare back.

“Just thinking about something Evans told me in Muggle Studies.” His smile grew slowly as he recalled more and more of the memory.

“Since when do you pay attention in Muggle Studies?” When you laughed, your face moved too much for him to trace, and he moved his fingers back into your hair until it evened out again.

He huffed in faux offense for only a second before relenting with a smile and an eye roll. “Only when Evans tells me weird fun facts. She understands what I find entertaining. None of that rain-wear bullshit – I want to know about the crazies.”

“Understandable. Game recognises game.”

Barty pinched your cheek lightly and stuck his tongue out at you. “Is that why we’re friends?”

“You tell me.” Your smile had an undertone he didn’t seem to miss as his expression turned just a fraction more bashful. You pressed your hand more flat against his back in encouragement. “What did Lily tell you about?”

“Oh, nothing.” He looked past you for a second with an absent yet pleased gaze before returning it to your awaiting expression. “Just about how some muggles believe in something called twin flames. It’s basically the same soulmate crap as everything else, divine connections and whatnot. Just people finding another way to explain their love. But I liked the name.”

His eyebrows moved emphatically as he spoke in quintessential Barty fashion. It filled you with a sensation only eased by moving your free hand to wedge beneath his cheek, resting there as a makeshift pillow, thumb brushing across his cheek. “Did you now?” 

He hummed in the affirmative. “I like flames.”

You snorted at that, which made his eyes light up and crinkle.

“No, I mean it–”

“I know you do.”

Barty rolled his eyes but his teeth were still on full display. “Do you want to hear my reasoning or not?”

You pressed your lips together to keep from continuing the banter and nodded. You wanted to see where this would go.

“I like flames. I like how they look, their warmth, how they make me feel. I’m always just itching to see one, to light something on fire or see sparks fly. But not when I’m with you.” 

His expression had neutralised as he kept studying you with an observant gaze – it felt like every twitch or movement held grand meaning to him. You felt like poking fun, but your voice came out almost as reverent as his. “Is this you saying you’re not bored when you’re with me?”

“This is me saying I’m not insane when you’re with me.”

Your smile instantly softened, hand on his back increasing pressure as it slid further up to rest over his heart. “You’re never insane, B,” you whispered. “Not actually, regardless of if I’m there or not.”

His eyes crinkled as if he was smiling, but his lips were pressed together, as if in thought. It wasn’t often you saw him thinking over his words before opening his mouth.

“This is me saying I love you.” His brows twitched into a furrow as he tilted his head sideways into your palm. “I don’t need that… that distraction when I’m with you. My flame.”

Your lips parted momentarily, as an oh died on them. Your eyes moved across his face rapidly, drinking in the expression, committing every open window into his soul to memory. He seemingly let you, a soft smile resting on his lips, though it was more vulnerable than you thought you had seen it.

“Love ya” was common in your friend group after Pandora went on a mission to normalise it between you. Elaborate practical jokes about proposing to one another or being secret lovers were a longstanding tradition. Your special bond with Barty was a given to you.

This, though, this was new – yet it did not feel like uncharted territory as you moved to respond.

Your face gravitated closer and closer to his as your gaze flickered between his lips and his eyes. “Then you might forgive me for saying I love you too, then?”

Barty’s breath hitched, but the sound was quickly taken over by a soft laugh as he leaned his forehead forward the last few centimetres that separated it from yours. “I don’t think there’s anything I wouldn’t forgive you for, darling. Though it might mean you’re more insane than I am.”

You shook your head softly. “Again, you’re not insane, B. That is an oversimplification made solely for jokes – same as how Regulus isn’t actually boring, even when you joke he is.”

Barty furrowed his brows deeply. “Who told you those were jokes?”

Your hand beneath his shirt pinched him, drawing a yelp from him followed by a deep giggle that you happily mirrored.

“No, I know, I know,” he said through a laugh, locking gaze with you through his lashes. “But I do feel crazy without you. That’s how I know.”

You didn’t need to ask what he was referring to. You looked down between you for a moment as you could not contain your smile. A comfortable warmth began to spread through your body, as if something was carved in stone with each touch, each smile.

“I do suppose it’s safer you entertain yourself with me rather than light fire to innocent structures and civilians.”

Barty hummed appreciatively as he took on a theatrically wolfish expression. “And Salazar, do I know how to entertain myself with you.”

This time you pinched him harder as a scandalous bark of laughter escaped you – both of which seemingly triggered Barty to roll his body forward and over you, winding up on the very edge of the bed with you now held flush against him, laughing together like the kids in love you were.

You shrieked as he manhandled you into the chaotic embrace, laughing against his neck as you held onto him tighter. “You beast!”

“Your beast,” he corrected, pressing his forehead back against yours while his palm cupped your cheek fondly. “Right?”

You weren’t ashamed to admit you melted into him; your expression surely lovestruck. “Right.” You nodded, dazed. “Mine.”

His smile twitched repeatedly as he maintained eye contact. “My flame?”

“Yours.”

There was a certain glossiness to his gaze as he pressed his lips together and nodded faux matter-of-factly. “Sounds like a fair arrangement?” 

You had never been more grateful to be fluent in Barty. It made that one sentence hold so much more sentimental worth in your heart.

“I reckon that’s fair, yeah.”

You didn’t wait for Barty to kiss you before you closed the distance between you with enough force to push him off his side onto his back – nearly off of the bed.

Just like the first time, you were laughing against each other’s lips, swallowing more and more of the sounds as you devoured the other, heart and soul.

Unlike the first time, when you intertwined your fingers beside his head and squeezed, there was no question in your heart left in your heart.

[extinctlesspains]

I wanna write for Anne with an e... Thing is... Is the fandom still alive?

Like will people read it?

CALLING ALL AWAE FANS

[fhrlclln]

why isn't anyone editing our pinoy sith lord to filipino songs? i DESPERATELY WANT TO SEE AN EDIT OF QIMIR/MANNY WITH AL JAMES OR SOME SHI (wag hev abi pls) idk PLEASE TIKTOK EDITORS PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

[fodenswhore]

🪴Spin the bottle

{In which a game of spin the bottle causes feelings to stir.}

help i wrote this when i first started watching awae in 2021. found it in my drafts on wattpad and decided to post it on here.

masterlist

Billy Andrews was insufferable. He was rude, irritating and extremely cocky. You hated him, and every little thing he did annoyed you - whether it was him tugging on your hair as you hung your hat and coat in the cloak room at school, or whether it was him simply breathing to loud. You hated him, he hated you, and that was that.

And so, when it was your turn to spin the bottle in Josie's childish game, you were utterly furious when the glass bottle landed on Billy. “No. No way. Absolutely not. I’m not doing this." You protested, shaking your head.

"Awww come on now Y/N, rules are rules." Billy smirked at you and stood up in the middle of the circle your classmates had created.

"Such stupid rules." You mumbled to no-one in particular, glancing over at Diana and Anne - both of whom gave you sympathetic looks. You stood up hesitantly and glared at the bottle on the floor.

You whipped your head to face Josie and gave her a pleading look, however she only raised her eyebrows expectingly at you. Clenching your jaw, you turned to Billy and shuffled towards him.

Once you were close enough, Billy leant in and whispered in your ear, "Come on Y/N, what are you so afraid of? It's just a kiss."

You narrowed your eyes at him and whispered back angrily, "I'm not afraid of kissing. However I am afraid of kissing you. You probably have some kind of incurable disease. I wouldn't want to catch it. It may give me your huge ego, or worse, your attitude."

Billy scowled and was about to retaliate when Josie cleared her throat and said, "Can the two of you hurry up and get on with it?”

Charlie, one of Billy’s friends, gestured to the rest of your classmates, “Yeah, we’re all waiting for you guys.”

Rolling your eyes you leant in close to Billy who cupped your cheek with his hand. You sucked in a sharp breath and glanced up to find Billy staring at you curiously, as if he was expecting you to back off and punch him in the gut. When you didn't back away, he allowed your mouths to brush ever so softly before capturing your lips with his.

As he kissed you, warmth filled you from head to toe, and butterflies erupted in your stomach. You allowed your eyes to flutter shut, and your hand instinctively travelled to the back of his neck - thus pulling him closer to you.

The kiss was soft and sweet. And because it was your first kiss, it was everything you had dreamt it would be like. You felt torn and confused, you hated Billy! However you couldn't ignore the feeling of bliss that fell upon you when your lips met his.

And then, as quickly as the kiss had started, it was over. You pressed your palms against Billy's chest and softly pushed him away. His face was flushed and his lips were swollen ever so slightly - you could only assume you looked the same.

Diana coughed quietly and you shook your head lightly as if to shake yourself from your daze. You quickly sat back down in the circle next to Ruby and began brushing invisible dust off the skirt of your dress, whilst ignoring the snickers from your friends. Billy swallowed thickly and wiped his hands on his trousers before sitting back down. He snook a glance at you quickly before moving his gaze back to the bottle.

“Okay," Josie said, clasping her hands together and allowing her eyes to travel over the faces in the room almost like a lion scouring for prey. A small smirk graced her lips as her eyes locked on the next victim of the game. “Anne's next."

[frickingnerd]

secretly dating jerry baynard

pairing: jerry baynard x fem!reader

tags: wholesome fluff, gardener jerry, rich girl x poor boy, mentions of eloping together, reader has multiple suitors

jerry had been working for your family for a while, looking after the flowers in the garden and doing some work on the fields

your family was rich and stuck up, always looking down on the boy. but you always admired and envied jerry, for the freedom he had

you knew you'd eventually be married off to a man you didn't love, while jerry could pick his partner freely. yet what you didn't know at that time was that the girl jerry wanted was you!

you always watched him when he worked in the garden, while jerry watched you when you were reading a book outside by the flowers. the garden was the only place the two of you ever met and got any alone time

your relationship started with some small talk, about the flowers blooming near you and the books you liked to read. but quickly, you realized how much the two of you had in common!

you began to seek each other out at any opportunity. you helped jerry with the flowers and lent him your books. soon, feelings began to blossom between the two of you!

you had your first kiss near the roses in the garden, your faces hidden behind a book, as jerry stole your first kiss. ever since then, that spot became the place you'd meet and spend time at

you always had to be careful that your parents, nor any of the other people working at the mansion didn't spot you two! if anyone saw you two, you'd be in grave trouble!

sometimes, when your parents were out of town or away for an evening, you'd sneak jerry into the mansion, showing him the book shelves in your room and treating him to all the best food he never ate before!

those moments always felt so domestic and precious. almost as if, even for just a moment, you got to be a normal couple

jerry always listened to you vent about the men your parents introduced you to and the two of you came up with plans on how to get rid of them, so you wouldn't have to marry any of those suitors

for now, those plans always worked. and while nobody said it out loud, both of you were worried that eventually, you'd be forced to marry one of those men!

but even then, jerry swore to run away with you, before that could ever happen! he started saving up some money and even if you had to live in poverty, at least the two of you could stay together!

[noellawrites]

Belonging to You - dark!Gilbert Blythe x reader

part one linked here - but it isn’t necessary to understand this part <3

synopsis: your parents allow Gilbert to court you, and he has an idea about exactly the wife you should be, but he can’t wait until the wedding.

warnings: arranged/forced marriage & dub/noncon (brief). Gilbert & reader are 18+

requested by: @xxoverthinkerxx @kakamixo

As the cool autumn turned into a biting winter, you remained steadfast in your avoidance of Gilbert Blythe.

Your mother was so happy to hear of your “budding friendship” and readily encouraged it, but you hadn’t told her about the forceful kiss.

Gilbert was attending Queen’s College, returning to Avonlea whenever he could. Bash and Delphine remained in Gilbert’s house, tending to the property in his absence.

You, on the other hand, were studying with Avonlea’s new schoolteacher and helping her teach classes to the younger children. Since you had turned eighteen, your parents made you focus less on schoolwork and more on finding a husband.

Your mother’s recent attempt had been with Billy Andrews, who had brutally mocked you in school. His opinion of you didn’t seem to change, laughing as he took in the sight of your dilapidated house and sad, desperate parents.

However, your mom had announced that a special guest would be coming over for dinner this weekend. She took away your schoolbooks and made you focus on your recipes, bound to show this new suitor that you could be a useful wife.

“If this young man doesn’t want you, I think we’ll have to search through the widowers in town. I hear both Mr. Croft and Mr. Franks are looking for young wives,” your father points out as you set the table for dinner.

“Oh gross, dad. I’m not marrying some old man!” you exclaim.

“You will have to, if Gilbert Blythe refuses to marry you,” your mother snaps.

“G-Gilbert?” you squeak, a shiver of fear running down your spine. You still hadn’t fully forgotten the forceful kiss from early that spring.

“Yes. Gilbert has generously offered to court you, and we have accepted. As you know, we had to sell your dowry to keep our land, (y/n). And it’s not like any suitors are knocking down doors to be with you,” your father points out.

“I-I can pause my studies! I can go into Charlottetown and—“ your voice is cut off by a knock at the front door, and you know exactly who it is.

“Oh, lovely! He’s here already,” your mother smiles, clapping her hands.

You reach your hand towards the knob shakily, ready to greet Gilbert against your will.

“Hello, (y/n). You are looking quite beautiful today,” he smiles, bowing to you and kissing your hand softly.

“Oh, it’s so good to see you again! Come in, come in,” your mother beckons.

You feel like you’re floating outside your body through the entire dinner, nodding and smiling when anyone looks over at you.

Gilbert is seated next to you, of course, with your parents on the opposite side. Neither of them see when Gilbert places his palm on the top of your thigh. Nothing changed, and he carries on his discussion with your dad about farmland and the possibility of Gilbert buying your family’s farm.

“Our children will have lots of land to play on,” Gilbert says, turning to face you with a smile.

“O-oh— I don’t know if I want children, Gilbert,” you say quietly

“Honey! Take that back,” your mother hisses, her eyes flying wide open.

Gilbert frowns, grip tightening on your thigh. “Once we marry, you won’t have much of a choice.”

You force out a cruel laugh. “Once we marry? That’s if I even want to marry you.”

“Please stop making this worse for yourself, honey,” your mother begs. She still remembers her own lack of choices when her parents chose your father as her match.

“We have already accepted Gilbert’s offer for your hand, the deed is done,” your dad says harshly.

“What? And you’re just telling me this now?”

“Once I finish university, I want to raise our big family in my home and work as Avonlea’s doctor,” Gilbert explains, standing up from the table and resting his hand on your shoulder.

“The wedding is a month from today,” your mom tells you. You’re still in shock, processing the fact that a man you hardly knew, only from school, was to be your eternal husband.

“This is not fair,” you snap, and run up the stairs to your bedroom. You fall against your quilt, tears soaking the fabric as you realize your fate. Just another miserable woman chained to Avonlea, forced to be a mother and caregiver.

You don’t even hear the footsteps ascending the stairs and approaching your room. You are fully surprised when your door opens and Gilbert is on the other side, arms crossed over his chest, looking very angry.

“Your parents assured me that I would be receiving an obedient wife,” Gilbert hisses through clenched teeth.

You look up, turning your head to the man standing angrily at your door. “Are you serious? You expect me to be an obedient wife to you when I barely even know you?”

“You know me well enough, aren’t we friends?”

You blink, processing Gilbert’s words. You did know him, or you thought you did.

“I suppose you’re a better option than Billy Andrews,” you sit up, cracking a smile.

“That’s the spirit,” Gilbert smirks, sitting down on your bed next to you.

“But… your parents expect certain things from us,” Gilbert continues, “and I’ll need you to take care of the children and house while I finish my studies.”

“What about the land?” you ask, biting your lip.

“Bash takes care of the land and maintenance, but you will be responsible for Delphine while he works,” Gilbert explains.

“That— that isn’t too bad, I suppose. And I can visit you when you’re in school?”

“What, now you want to visit me?” Gilbert jokes, nudging you.

“I mean, if you’re my husband, then yes,” you nod.

“It’s settled then,” Gilbert says.

You still weren’t completely sold on the idea of marrying Gilbert, but you didn’t mind being courted by him for now. And if it meant your parents would stop pressuring you, you were all for it.

Gilbert reaches for your hand, taking it in his and moving closer to you.

You feel like you blinked and all of a sudden, your new fiancée was laying beside you on the bed. And when he leaned over to kiss you, all you could do was let him.

You were acutely aware that you belonged to him now, in every moment. His, as his hand inched down to the hem of your dress. His, as he slid it over your head and kissed down your soft stomach.

—

The month passed you by in a flurry of activity. Suddenly, it was your wedding day to Gilbert and you still didn’t feel ready, still didn’t want to give your life away.

Your trunk had already been moved to Gilbert’s home, sheets stripped from your bed and room lait bare in front of you.

“Honey? Why are you up here, it’s almost time. All the guests are outside,” your mom hums, standing in the doorway.

You turn to her slowly, and she sees the tears trailing down your cheeks.

“Momma— I don’t wanna do this,” you whisper.

“It’s too late,” she hisses, taking a step closer.

“Mom, it’s not. I could always—“

“Gilbert told me what you did, what happened the day you agreed to marry him. When we left you two alone on this very room,” she snaps, “I didn’t think I raised a temptress. But you sealed your fate.”

You had almost forgotten by now, but not quite. The unceremonious occasion when Gilbert took your virginity and claimed you as his, right on your childhood bed.

You gulp and nod. You had no choices left, only to commit to Gilbert fully. It was your only hope for a good life and future.

—

“I’m proud of you,” Gilbert whispers. It is nighttime, your first night in your new home.

“You told my parents that you—“

“That we,” he corrects. You nod. A husband is always right.

“Gilbert, I’ve grown ill,” you confess, and your husband moves closer to you under the blankets. His eyes light up.

“Do you think—?” he asks, excited at the prospect that his seed might’ve already taken.

“I do,” you squeak, “and I have not bled, either.”

“This is amazing news!” he blurts out, wrapping his arms around you. It is supposed to be a hug, but it only feels like a trap.

“Our children will be so intelligent, like me. Obedient like you, of course. And so cute, like you, my wife,” he sighs, stroking your cheek.

As he looks into your eyes, you see a mixture of lust and power in them. Gilbert has you, you belong to him now. His perfect life is in his clutches.

[lovelywritten]

COMFORT

—pairing : Gilbert Blythe x fem!reader

—summary : An unfortunate accident has you inevitably stuck with Gilbert Blythe—which your father had absolutely no hand in.

—content : sfw, fluff, mutual pining, poetic gushing of reader completely lost in her mirage of defenseless affliction for Gilbert

—word count : 2k

Dark stains ranging from light grey to smokey black smeared all over the townspeople's crestfallen faces, a residue of the fire accident that had taken place at the Gillis' family home.

The remnants of the fire took over their house walls. If it weren't for Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, the Gillis' residence would've been left with nothing but ashes. The house structure and foundation were still intact. Its durability remained a wonder, however.

It was fortunate that no one was injured from the catastrophe. The only casualty was the concrete house itself which had layers of ashen smudges creeping up its scorched walls.

When the fire had been vanquished, the people went to the patriarch and matriarch of the Gillis' to share their concerns and somehow alleviate their distress over temporarily losing their home and refuge. Small talk, yet still laced with sincerity.

Avonlea was a small town with a limited number of residents occupying it. They may be awfully spiteful sometimes, especially when it comes to those who take pleasure in gossip, but they sure are compassionate and genuine, if not every one.

Your father made his way to approach Gilbert Blythe. ❝Gilbert, good lad. Might I trouble you for a favor?❞ His tone was inquisitive, yet the vague certainty and subdued confidence in his eyes did not go unnoticed by the younger male.

❝Of course, sir. May I ask what it's about?❞

❝Could you possibly escort my Y/n home? It seems that my daughter is set on offering comfort to her dear friend.❞ The facial expression he conveyed seemed to be dejected and hopeless. As hard as he tried to play it out, Gilbert could see through your father—at some point.

He did not want to interject, though. Nor dare to confront him about it. Gilbert did not seem too keen to expose him, instead he appreciated your father's not-so-well-hidden intentions to play match-maker.

Mr. L/n had his fingers on his temples with his brows slightly furrowed, no doubt expressing helplessness. ❝It's just that I promised my wife I would be back as soon as possible after things here have settled down...❞ He then laughs slightly, thinking back on what had happened before his departure towards the site of the regretful incident. ❝We almost couldn't leave the house when M/n became too panicked and worried for our safety, you see.❞

Your father shoots him a careful and hopeful look. His spirits seemed to be more lifted and assured when Gilbert nodded with a smile. ❝I'd be happy to walk Y/n home, sir.❞

❝Thank you, Gilbert. My wife and I appreciate it. I'll be off now then, good night.❞ He did not even wait for a reply from the younger male.

Gilbert watched the older man walking towards the path leading to his home—well, in long strides with graceful haste more like.

His gaze then falls over you. You appeared to be the image of serene and composed, yet the strands of your h/c curls frame your face with an ethereal unruliness in them, given the accident that occured at the Gillis' family house. Who would still look presentable after that? The people who stayed home, obviously. Everyone who wanted to help scurried over to offer their aid as soon as the news reached them. Including you and your father.

While your father took the buckets back with him, you were only carrying a cozy shawl sprawled over your shoulders to warm you up from the biting cold of the night.

You and the girls were formed in a small group. With a look of compassion and gentleness in your expression, you shared a conversation directed to Ruby as the recipient of your good intent. ❝I would be delighted to accommodate you and your family to our humble residence, Ruby…❞ You started with a soft smile, in a genuine benign manner towards your dear classmate.

Ruby was hell-bent on refusing to stay with Anne and wanted to be with you and even considered staying with Diana. She had a conflicted facial expression etched on her face with her brows furrowed. Her mouth opens in an attempt to refute.

But then, you spoke again with the same tenderness. ❝But I think you should accept Anne's offer and spend some time to get to know her better. It could do you good, the both of you.❞ The calm temperament you reasoned with seemed to be taking effect since you've made your serenity contagious to Ruby.

Diana was quick to put in more words for Ruby to agree, knowing where you were going with this. It would be beneficial for not only Anne and Ruby, but also to your other classmates who always seem to misunderstand Anne. Maybe spending time with Anne would change the perception of the girl into a more positive note if they get to know each other better and resolve past ill sentiments that Ruby once had for Anne.

❝Y/n is completely right, Ruby. I've always had fun whenever I am with Anne. Please give her a chance as I have?❞ Diana casts a careful and cautious look over her sandy-blonde friend.

Eventually, Ruby nods her head—albeit hesitantly.

Diana wraps her arms around Anne as she bids her farewell. ❝I'll visit soon, all right?❞ Your brunette friend leaves the three of you with a wave of her hand and follows after her father who waited for his daughter by the tree.

Speaking of fathers, you don't seem to locate yours as you scanned around the area. At all.

Gilbert's tall stature does come to your line of sight, though.

You gulped lightly, as you seemed to struggle looking away from him. You forced yourself to focus your attention back to your friend. Pulling yourself together, you smile softly at her. ❝It's all right, Ruby. You're in good hands.❞ Being the good friend that you are, you tried to comfort her with the dulcet rubbing of your hand against her wool-clad arms. When her expression relaxes, only then did you talk again.

❝I shall take my leave now. I'll see you two tomorrow, yes?❞ Your eyes trained to Anne then to Ruby's.

Anne was more enthusiastic than Ruby to reply—which you can understand because Ruby had just lost her home and would be spending time with a girl she did not exactly want to associate herself with given what the others negatively perceived of Anne.

Before you knew it, someone fell into step with you. Looking up to your side, you came face to face with the one and only Gilbert Blythe. Your brows slightly shot up, surprised at the sight of him when his house was the other way around.

❝Gilbert, I—wha...❞

❝Your father requested that I accompany you.❞ He explains, appearing completely unbothered by the reason at all. If anything, he seemed relaxed. Delighted, maybe?

And then there was this slightly upturned smile playing on his lips that sent your mind in a frenzy as he looked at you with a certain intent—something that you couldn't quite decipher.

Quickly composing yourself, you replied with a steady voice. ❝I'm sorry to trouble you then, Gilbert. Father can be quite the worrywart when it comes to his only daughter. ❞

❝It's no trouble at all, Y/n. It's my pleasure to take you home. ❞ He grins so easily at you that his stare becomes quite difficult for you to maintain.

You stayed silent after that, simply looking ahead of you—trying to ignore the racing of your heart at his words. Maybe you were overthinking it. But the way he composed the structure of his words were ambiguous, you couldn't help it.

There were endless words to choose from. Like: walk you home. But, no. He just had to choose ❝take you home❞ did he? His implications were vague if he was actually referring to your house or—

Yeah, you were overthinking things.

It might not be as complex as you imagined.

It would only be a few hours until dawn arrives. So much for sleep. You were sure that your friends—who actually cared about Ruby sacrificed their sleep just to be with her earlier and lend a helping hand to her family.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when the sudden gush of cold wind passed, causing you to slightly shiver. You tightened your shawl around you. No doubt, even your fingers were icy cold.

Just then, you felt something heavy set upon your shoulders. Startled, your fingers came into contact with something warm—which you noticed were actually Gilbert's knuckles as you clutched the plaid material he draped over your shoulders.

Your eyes captured his ever mesmerizing, enigmatic, warm chestnut brown hazel eyes, softened with genuine concern. You weren't even aware you had both come to a standstill.

You cleared your throat slightly before you looked away, continuing to tread back home. With him.

When you glanced back at him, his eyes were sparkling in bliss with the corners of his mouth pulled up into a disarmingly boyish grin that had you utterly captivated.

You did not even realize you mirrored his smile with a shyer one. But you were far too late to be self-aware. Gilbert had already seen it. You could have playfully shoved him with the way you saw his smile widening teasingly. Instead, you scoff softly—in sheer amusement at the situation with a smile gracing your lips.

Finally you reached the plinth of your home. You paused, contemplating—not knowing what to do exactly.

Biting your lower lip lightly, you divert your attention from the door, turning around to face him. He has a calm and relaxed expression on, his body language was at ease as he returned your gaze with a hint of a smile playing at his lips.

❝Good night, Gilbert.❞

His mouth parted, stretching to a full-on winsome grin. ❝Definitely.❞

Your eyebrows slightly twitched at the cryptic implication of his reply. You felt yourself purse your lips together, feeling a warmth swarm up your face.

He took a few steps backward with his body still lingered towards your direction. ❝See you later.❞ When he saw you smile softly, he waves at you.

He stood there still. As if waiting for you to make your way inside the house first before he could set his mind at ease and depart.

Giving him a peace of mind, you crossed the threshold and closed the door with a soft click. His face was the last thing you saw before it completely shut.

Oh, yes. It would definitely be a good night. You thought with a smile creeping up your lips as you made your way upstairs to your boudoir.

This interaction of yours with Gilbert barely even consisted beyond that of at least fifty words. Yet he had you on a chokehold, didn't he?

Those infuriatingly expressive, enchantingly mysterious, earth-shatteringly gorgeous empyrean hazel eyes. And that dangerously mind-blowing coy curl of the lips, and knee-numbing honeyed words were all to blame. How can someone deserve such power assigned so carelessly to a single being—destined to wield it without even being self-aware of his complete leverage over you?

Good God, you may be forsaken for all eternity for as long as Gilbert Blythe lives.

Maybe this was why Ruby was utterly infatuated with him for a long time. His charm was disarming. With no hope of breaking free from his reigns he so blissfully unaware he brought upon you.

You were not immune.

A/N : this was supposed to be a blurb, but as you can see I may have gotten carried away-- Also, I am aware that the setting for this scene was during early morning, however I just felt that night time would have been more fitting for this

[creamecafe]

Dating Gilbert Blythe Would Include...

Navigation | Request Guidelines | Who I Write For | Gilbert Blythe Playlist

Pairing: Gilbert Blythe x GN!Reader (No pronouns)

Warnings: sfw, fluff, mentions of sexual harassment

Don't forget to like, share, reblog and comment on what you think!

• This boy is head over heels for you

• I mean absolutely whipped

• The day he first saw you he knew that he would want to be yours

• He wakes up early every morning just to go to your house to walk to school together

• The only mornings that he doesn't go to your house if he's sick or if something comes up with Sebastian

• Comforting him when his father dies

• Defends you from bullies and sexual harassment from guys whether walking in town or in school

• "My, my, look here Tommy. This sure is a fine one. Hey lady/gentleman! What's your name?"

"What did you say? Back off they're already taken"

• He'll get into fights for you

• Like a LOT of fights

• Loves holding your hand a lot

• A huge gentlemen

• His father and Sebastian raised him right

• This man opens doors for you, compliments your dress/suit, hair, etc.

• Knows your favorite tea, dessert, fruit, color, book, etc.

• This boy knows everything about you

• When you're not around him, all he does is talk about you and Sebastian is kinda fed up with it but can't help be happy he has someone like you

• "Y/N read this beautiful poem in class. Their voice was just soothing. Oh did I also told you that Y/N is crazy smart? Wait Y/N is..."

"Gilbert, if you say one more thing about Y/N, I might throw my head in the burner."

• They both laugh together

• Everything you could ask for in a guy

• Consent is everything for him

• Is grateful for you in his life and couldn't ask for anything or anybody else

Thanks for reading! Don't forget to heart, reblog, share, comment on your thoughts, and follow for more works! You can also find me on Wattpad and my other socials in my bio. Feedback is always much appreciated!

[mirclealignr]

idk how i went so long without noticing you write for awae 😭 could i request a 🍋‍🟩 (or a blurb if you feel - whichever is fine!) with gilbert where he just gives fem!reader little gifts all the time? maybe they’re dating or he just has feelings for her & that’s how he expresses it or something bc i think it would be adorable :(

patience | gilbert blythe

gilbert blythe x fem!reader.

help this is the first time i’ve written gilbert. that's probably why though because no one ever requests it so I've never written for awae lol also it's 700 words and i hope i like it x

gilbert blythe was rather a quiet lover. though full of confidence and not afraid to go after what he wanted, his confidence was calm, collected and reserved. he wasn’t boisterous nor obnoxious. he was still.

gilbert had always been told that opposites attract; but now that he had found y/n, he was firm in his belief that this was not always the case. he believed himself and y/n much alike. she was the ocean on a summer morning when there was nothing but a light breeze, she was the whisper between the trees that reminded you there was always something more.

a few months ago y/n noticed a small book on her porch. it was empty, but for an inscription on the inside reading ‘for all of your thoughts.’

gilbert had always listened to her.

and again, a few weeks ago, gilbert and y/n had taken a walk past their old school. there were many memories trapped within those walls, some of which they hoped would remain there, and others they wished could stay forever. in those days, gilbert was perhaps less understanding, more naïve than he cared to admit, even now.

gilbert had decided to stay in avonlea after his adventures at sea. to stay with bash and his new wife, mary. this is something of which y/n admired. his proud strength and selflessness. the strong bonds of which he nurtured.

and after their reflective walk together, y/n found something tucked away in her bag. it was shakespeare’s sonnets.

gilbert knew how much she adored his sonnets.

in between these gifts were small notes, pretty stones, flowers, dried petals and and baked goods. mary had been teaching gilbert to cook and bake, at his request, as she had informed y/n.

gilbert simply knew how to read y/n, how to treat her and how to please her. to him, y/n was a book in which only he could understand the message. and more recently, he felt himself ready to relay to her this understanding, which only fostered the desire he had for her since they were merely children.

and now, gilbert smiled, beamed even, as he handed y/n a gift wrapped in paper with a string bow keeping it all fixed together.

“you knew it was me, did you not?” asked gilbert as y/n took the object, referring to the gifts y/n had been "mysteriously" receiving over the past months.

“of course i knew.”

y/n unwound the string with care, pulling the paper folds back delicately so as not to break or rip anything that could be inside. and what a treasure lay within.

y/n gasped. “gilbert! you should not have spent this sort of money on me.”

“any money i could have spent on you would have been worth it. but this didn’t cost me a dime,” laughed gilbert. “i made it myself.”

y/n looked down again at the beloved gift. it looked expensive, it looked expertly designed, in her eyes. in her hand she held sea shells that hung from a small wooden beam, shimmering down three lengths of string. in the light breeze, the shells tickled against one another creating a soft, vibrant sound. it was familiar somehow, though she’d never heard shells make that sort of noise before.

“you made this?” asked y/n in disbelief. disbelief at a talent she had not known gilbert to possess and disbelief that he should take the time to make her something so beautiful, so ethereal.

“i had help on my first two or three, but that one i did all by myself,” hummed gilbert proudly.

“it’s marvellous, i can’t believe you would do this for me,” y/n laughed in astonishment, for she did not know how else to show her appreciation.

“y/n, i would take the time to do anything for you. i have always loved you, y/n. you know that, do you not?”

y/n shook her head. she had known, of course she had. but she waited. after his father passed away and the deep urge he felt to leave his home in order to find his way through, y/n waited for gilbert to come back to her. she waited until he was ready. and now here he was, spilling over the edges as he finally told her what she had wanted to hear for so long.

“yes. i love you, gilbert.”

[puckleberryfinnie]

Holiday Event!

Hello everyone, I’m back with another event! Here’s a little list of characters I’ll be accepting requests for, be sure to ask if there’s any one else you’d like something for!

requesting info: Honestly this is a free-for-all!! Anything you’d like written (within the boundaries I have set) about any of the characters below would be appreciated in my inbox! If you’d like, you can address it to someone else on this platform as a little gift for them, I’ll be sure to tag them! It can be about anything you’d like, but anything December related would be extra fun!

characters:

Gladiator:

Emperor Geta

Emperor Caracalla

Lucius

General Acacius

Hunger Games:

Finnick

Katniss

Sejanus

Lucy Gray

Anne With An E:

Pretty much every character!

A Series of Unfortunate Events:

Everyone!

Harry Potter:

Pretty much any character/fancast!

YouTubers:

Beta Squad

AMP

George Clarky

ArthurTV

much more, feel free to send someone and I’ll study up to write something <33

Again, do not be afraid to send something in or ask a question about this! I love love love hearing from you guys <3 Hope you have a happy holidays!!

[stargazing-imagines]

*Updated* Anne With an E Masterlist

Gilbert Blythe

Run Away with me

Dating Gilbert Blythe *Headcanon*

Billy Andrews

Marriage of Convenience *Coming Soon*

Jerry Baynard

None yet

Mini fics

None yet

Anne with an E Rewrite *currently on hold*

[extinctlesspains]

ATTENTION ALL AWAE FANS!!! 🫢

New book alert babes ♡

Sorry lovelies, it's on wattpad ♡

Here's the Sypnosis of the book 😘

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

"I don't know who to choose..."

In the quiet yet ever-changing world of Avonlea, Y/n arrives at Green Gables, hoping to find a place to belong. But as she settles into life on Prince Edward Island, she finds herself caught between the expectations of others and the uncertainty within her own heart. Between Jerry, the steadfast farmhand with a quiet depth, and Gilbert, the charming scholar with an undeniable pull, Y/n struggles to navigate friendships, love, and the weight of choices that could change everything.

When whispers of jealousy and betrayal stir tensions in the town, she is forced to confront not only the affections of two boys but also the truth about herself. Just as she begins to understand where she truly belongs, a revelation shakes everything she thought she knew-leaving her standing at the crossroads of her heart, where one choice could mean losing the other forever.

[hexcii]

My blorbo <33 my poor little meow meow who has done nothing wrong ever (trust)

If I’ve misspelt anything, no I didn’t

My Shayla….

[frickingnerd]

gilbert blythe telling you "i love you" for the first time

pairing: gilbert blythe x gn!reader

tags: wholesome fluff, unspecified relationship (implied romance)

the first time gilbert said those three little words to you was on a sunny spring evening

after school, he had walked you home but on your way there the two of you got sidetracked and ended up strolling through the woods, just talking and laughing together

eventually, you two ended up near a small lake and took a break there

while gilbert sat down near the water, you picked a few flowers that grew nearby, holding them in your hands and admiring them

your eyes were fixated on the pretty flowers, while gilbert's eyes were glued to you

he sat there in silence, until those three little words just spilled over his lips, as if he couldn't keep them to himself anymore

"i love you…"

the way he said those words, you could've sworn that he never said them to anyone else before, nor would he ever tell anyone else

it was like those words were just for you to hear…

when you whipped your head around to look surprised at gilbert, he just smiled softly and apologized

"that came out of nowhere, i'm sorry…"

[noellawrites]

“Blissful” Marriage - yandere!Billy Andrews x fem!reader

summary: your husband Billy has a surprise for your fifth wedding anniversary, but it’s not what you might think

warnings: arranged marriage mention, abusive relationship, Billy being an asshole obviously

As soon as you woke up next to your sleeping husband, you were hit with the brutal realization that today was somehow significant. As you took a deep breath, you tried to remember. It wasn't a holiday, nor was it either of your children's birthdays.

You pondered it as you prepared breakfast for your family in the quiet kitchen. The sun rose around you as you buttered toast and scrambled the eggs. Then all of a sudden, you dropped your knife with a clatter.

It was you and Billy's wedding anniversary.

It had been five years since your father handed you over to Billy Andrews, neither of you even eighteen years old when the wedding occurred.

You loved your children more than anything, but sometimes Billy felt like your third child. He had cooled down from his teenage years now with both of you in your early twenties, thankfully.

"Breakfast ready yet?" Billy asked from behind you. You hadn't even heard him come down the stairs.

You turned around, "almost, sorry."

"Hurry up, I'm hungry and the kids will be up soon," Billy sneered, grabbing the plate of bacon and taking it to the table.

Your husband sat and stared as you tried to set the table quickly. You could hear your son and daughter stirring in their rooms upstairs, and you'd have to carry your daughter with you as she was only two.

"Can you finish bringing the food over, Billy? I have to get Steph," you said hurriedly.

"Isn't that your job?" he groaned.

"Billy—“

"It's my wedding anniversary, I'm not doing any work," he stated, leaving no room for discussion.

You trudged up the stairs, each step feeling more difficult than the last. You were pregnant again, around four months in. You pitied the next poor child who would suffer at the hands of Billy Andrews being their father.

"Stephie, c'mere. Mama's got you," you cooed as you lifted your little girl out of her crib.

"Mama!" she giggled, her sweet little voice bringing a smile to your face.

You heard your son, William Junior, run down the stairs ahead of you, ready to greet his father. Billy was your son's favorite person, which scared you more than anything. You didn't want to raise a mini Billy, yet he'd insisted on naming his firstborn son after him anyway.

The four of you sat down at the table, Billy pulling you down onto the bench next to him and kissing you harshly on the mouth.

"Mommy, daddy, eww!" William laughed, with Stephanie's giggle following close behind.

"You kids are going over to Aunt Priscilla's today to play with your cousins," Billy stated, placing his hand on your thigh underneath the table.

"But dad, why?" William whined, slamming his fork on the table next to his plate.

"It's your mother and I's anniversary and I have something special planned," he said, fingers inching towards your undergarments.

You were scared, but slightly aroused. Billy, though not husband of the year, was pretty good in bed. He was always more concerned with his own pleasure, but you enjoyed being close to him, making him happy. It made you feel like a good wife.

—

Billy shut the door behind his sister as she left with your kids in tow, ready to spend a fun day with their cousins.

"So, what do you have planned?" you ask, turning and smiling to your husband. He dropped his arm from around your waist and looked at you with a hardened expression.

"Get on the ground."

"Billy, what—“

"YOU HEARD ME!" he yelled, pointing his finger directly at your face.

Wordlessly, you bent down onto the floor. Your husband threw a wet, vinegary sponge at you and crossed his hands across his chest.

"These floors are disgusting and you have no excuses. The bathrooms will be next. On my anniversary of suffering through marriage with you, I at least deserve to have a clean home," Billy growled.

You looked down. It hadn't even been a full week since you did the floors, and you felt nauseous after your descent to the floor, but you blinked back your tears and went to work anyway.

You crawled around like that for hours, dodging Billy's criticisms and suffering your way through your fifth wedding anniversary.

All of a sudden, you stood up and stomped over to where your husband sat in his study.

"Billy, what did I do wrong? I know our other anniversaries hadn't been much but... at least it seemed like you'd cared for me," you frown.

"I've been too nice to you lately and I need to put you back in your place. You are my wife and therefore my property," he declared.

"Billy, I raise your kids, take care of your home and do nothing but love you," you sniffle, almost pleading with him.

"I have grown tired of you. Get out of my sight," he stated simply.

You looked into his blue eyes and saw nothing, no traces of guilt or any feelings beyond anger.

Without another word, you turned around and headed outside, going straight to your garden. You at least wanted to bring some pretty flowers into your home on your anniversary, if nothing else.

You tried not to think of that dreadful day when your freedom and innocence was stolen away five years ago, but it lingered in your mind.

[babyflorencee]

Jealousy

Gilbert Blythe x fem!Reader

The sun dipped below the rolling hills of Avonlea, casting an amber glow across the landscape. Gilbert Blythe, with his characteristic disheveled hair and thoughtful gaze, strolled through the orchard, a place that had witnessed the blossoming of friendships and the unveiling of emotions.

Avonlea was abuzz with preparations for the upcoming fair, a festivity Y/n L/n held dear in her heart. As Gilbert walked past the vibrant stalls and fluttering banners, he couldn't help but notice the vivacity in Y/n's step, her eyes sparkling with an enthusiasm that painted the world in hues of her imagination.

Yet, beneath Gilbert's calm exterior, a storm brewed. A quiet jealousy, like an unexpected visitor, had taken residence in his heart. It wasn't the kind born out of malice but rather a realization of the changing dynamics between them.

Y/n, oblivious to the tempest within Gilbert, happily chatted with Cole and Diana, her laughter weaving into the summer breeze. As Gilbert observed from a distance, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was standing on the periphery of her universe.

His heart, usually steady as the Avonlea river, now raced with an unfamiliar cadence. Why did he feel this way? Gilbert grappled with the turmoil, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of the fair's prize ribbon he held.

Later that day, under the canopy of stars, Gilbert found himself by the bridge, a place where moments unfolded like chapters in a story. The rhythmic sound of cicadas filled the air as Y/n approached, her gaze alighting upon Gilbert's contemplative silhouette.

"Hey, Gil. Are you alright?" Y/n inquired, a glimmer of concern in her eyes.

The words struggled to find their way out of Gilbert's mouth, but the truth, as elusive as it was, demanded expression. "Y/n, do you ever feel like things are changing, and you're not sure where you fit in anymore?"

Y/n’s brows furrowed, “Change is a constant, Gilbert. But you'll always have a place in my heart. In my world." With the last sentence that left her mouth, her eyes softened, feeling sadness for the boy standing by her.

His heart, still entangled with vines of uncertainty, yearned for more. With a breath held in the quiet night, Gilbert spoke the words that fluttered within. "Y/n, it's not just about the changing world. It's about me, about us. It's about what we could possibly be. I can't stand on the sidelines anymore, y/n. I want to be more than a distant star in your sky."

It was a balm to Gilbert's restless heart, and yet, a lingering question remained unspoken. As they stood on the bridge, the moon casting its silver glow upon the water, the bond between them seemed to shimmer with an understanding beyond words.

Y/n's eyes widened, finally realizing the gravity of his confession. "Gilbert..."

Before she could say more, he took a step closer, his hand cupping her cheek. "I can't hold back any longer," he admitted, and in the soft glow of moonlight, he kissed her.

Their lips met, a silent promise of untold emotions and uncharted paths. The orchard witnessed the quiet culmination of a friendship blossoming into something more, as the stars overhead continued their timeless dance. In that stolen moment, Gilbert and Y/n discovered a new chapter in the story of Avonlea—a chapter written with ink that glistened with spoken feelings.