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okay-j-hannah · 2 years ago

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Episode 4: The New Heir

Doctor Who : Multishot

Eleventh Doctor x Reader

Word Count: 3790

Warnings: the spanish flu pandemic of 1918 and lots of references to characters in Downton Abbey - I apologize if you’ve never seen the series but I would highly recommend it 🤩

Request: This just came from my own head 😊

A/N: Follow the lives of the Crawley family and their servants in their Edwardian country estate as they search for the next heir, who will be asked to learn from the Lord and will be encouraged to be friendly with the eldest daughter.

Episode 3: As You Wish

Episode 4: The New Heir {You Are Here}

Episode 5: The Unknown Subject

The sound of tinkling forks and knives sang throughout the dining room. The rich mahogany table was bedecked with a number of alluring dishes and delicious scents. The guests were all alight by candelabras and the newly installed electric light.

(Y/N) cut a piece of the roasted chicken, tasting the rosemary instantly. The kitchens never disappointed in Downton.

Nor did the company. Seeing as life on the estate was frightfully dull without the people, (Y/N) took pleasure in the conversation. She enjoyed recognizing each of them as people from her own life.

Most of all the Doctor.

He sat beside her, taking on the persona of John Smith once more. “Please send my compliments to the kitchen,” he said politely, “You’re quite right – jammie dodgers are my favorite. I appreciate the homemade touch.”

The table rounded with laughs. (Y/N) looked over and eyed his plate full of desserts. He was lucid like her. Truly the Doctor playing the part just like her.

She turned back to the guests. “How have you enjoyed our gardens, Lady Cassandra?”

The heavily laden woman pursed her lips. She was covered in furs and feathers, practically getting in the way of the food she was pecking at. It was a surprise she could move her eyelids at all with the amount of makeup packed there.

Clearly she was a woman desperately holding onto her beauty as she fell out of her prime.

“I prefer roses over your tulips. But they’re beautiful, nonetheless. I didn’t expect the grounds to be so sunny in the country. It’d dry me out if I didn’t have my butler with me.”

(Y/N) held back a snicker thinking about her sniveling little comrade, Chip. The Doctor cleared his throat, apparently thinking back on the troubles the Lady Cassandra had caused in their own reality.

“You must visit our Downton Village Flower Show,” Lady Crawley said. She was the one supposed to be (Y/N)’s mother – she was one of the few (Y/N) didn’t recognize from her own world.

“I made a report on that,” Sir Octavian recalled from down the table, “And I will say the Lady Cassandra has a point about roses. They were the flower that won the show.” He played the local head of the newspaper in this reality.

(Y/N) took a sip of her wine, “If I’m not mistaken, you have a likeness for gardens, Sir Octavian.”

The man nodded, “I rather enjoy taking strolls. Particularly through statues and fountains as well. I’ve recently acquired a set of stone angels for my own garden.”

The Doctor spoke suddenly through a full mouth, “Weeping angels?”

“Yes, fascinating, aren’t they?” Sir Octavian remarked.

(Y/N) swallowed her chicken. If only the Sir remembered what the weeping angels did to him in the real world.

Mrs. Smith spoke, “I would be interested in seeing a piece about the local hospitals in the newspaper – if you don’t mind me saying so, Sir Octavian.”

“Mother, please,” the Doctor spoke quietly, “You can engage in your advertisements aside from the dinner table.”

His mother was being played by Harriet Jones.

“I apologize – Mother can be rather headstrong about the good causes.”

“I do believe you inherited that trait,” (Y/N) mumbled his way.

Lady Crawley spoke loudly to change the subject, “How have your tours of the village gone, (Y/N)?”

The Doctor responded, “Splendid, really. You’ve got countryside that will last for hundreds of years. Just imagine how they’ll grow and be preserved as national parks one day. An honorable way to preserve the ancient grasslands of England.”

The table had gone silent, forks and knives still.

(Y/N) kicked the Doctor beneath the table.

“Forgive me – just voicing silly antics Lady (Y/N) and I came up with on our adventures.”

“Adventures?” Lord Grantham, (Y/N)’s father, spoke, “Is that what you’re calling your daily outings?”

(Y/N) smiled, “That’s what they are more or less. The latest included a picnic overlooking the village. We tried to attract the rabbits with leftover salad clippings,” she snickered.

The table now shared their fondness for each other. It was no secret they were all in support of the pair to end their friendship in marriage. John Smith was the new heir to Downton and would inherit the title and estate from the family.

Should (Y/N) marry him, the family would have proper cause to remain at the house.

It was peculiar to play a part in a story where they should end up married. (Y/N) certainly didn’t mind, but she wondered what the Doctor thought.

He lifted his glass of wine, took a rather large sip, and spit the entirety of it back into the cup.

~~~

Amy was undoing (Y/N)’s hair, braiding it into a style to sleep in. “I’ve heard some wonderful things about your time with Mr. Smith.”

(Y/N) smiled, “I’ve heard similar things about you and Mr. Williams.”

“The valet?” Amy said with forced surprise, “Heard what things?”

“That you’re to be married,” (Y/N) eyed the woman through her vanity mirror, “That Father has starting searching for a cottage you two could stay in near the house.”

Amy sighed heavily, “Who told you?”

“I was the one who asked for cottage advertisements from Sir Octavian today on Father’s behalf.”

“Fine,” Amy grinned, “Now you share. I’ve noticed how Mr. Smith watches you when he thinks nobody is looking – if you don’t mind me saying.”

(Y/N) turned in her seat, “I rather like your forward nature, Amelia. Just don’t let Mother hear you speak like that.”

There was a knock at the door and a whispered voice, “(Y/N)?”

Amy was frozen and hesitant as she neared the door that was already opening. There stood the Doctor.

“Oh, hello,” he said in an animated voice. “I mean, I’m sorry – could I have a word with Lady (Y/N).”

“Let him in, Amelia,” (Y/N) spoke softly, “And I’d rather you keep this event to yourself, please.”

Amy nodded, letting the Doctor in and shutting the door behind her. Not before she shared a smirk with (Y/N).

The Doctor strode in, rubbing his hands together. (Y/N) took a relieved breath every time she saw him act like himself now. It was comforting after spending a couple realities of him not knowing the truth.

But it was still peculiar with how different he looked. He was still wearing his dress clothes – a suit with an ironed collar and shiny brass buttons – and shoes polished to see your reflection in them. His hair was combed and styled in a professional manner; it made her miss seeing it bounce about as he got into his usual eccentrics.

“Right,” he said quickly, “Splendid work playing the part. I thought a few times there we’d been spotted for being frauds but thankfully we were spared an immediate time jump.”

“You mean the times you ate nothing but jammie dodgers, spit back up the wine, and prattled on about the future national parks of the England grasslands?”

The Doctor threw a hand in the air, “Not important. I only meant to congratulate you on keeping up appearances.” He made to exit the room, but (Y/N) grasped his arm.

“What, that’s it?” she said with sudden anger, “You haven’t been cleverly thinking of some escape plan?”

“We’re surviving with the plan we have.” He held onto her head and planted a kiss in her hair. “Enjoy the fun while we’re stuck here!”

And he bounced for the door before she could lash at him with something more harsh. She still had yet to say something about her mysterious conversation with River Song. She very much wanted to hear from her again.

Not that she didn’t mind the luxury of Downton in the meantime. It was rather enjoyable going on rides or picnics with the Doctor while being treated like royalty on the estate. But that didn’t stop her from wanting to be just (Y/N).

(Y/N) and the Doctor. Companions traveling through time and space.

~~~

It was shaping to be a rather dull weekend as (Y/N) walked the grounds. Looking towards the skies she noticed incoming storm clouds. Clouds that were abnormal for the current season.

The Doctor had gone to meddle in the cottage affair with Mr. Williams and Amelia.

It left (Y/N) with a sense of boredom as she wandered. That was until she heard strange sounds coming from the estate.

She flew around, pebbles scattering around her feet. It sounded like… well, it sounded like the tardis.

She ran for the house, finding herself the staircase immediately and following the sound as it grew louder. She reached rooms that only the servants dealt with. Running through corridors and bumping into footmen and maids.

“Pardon me, Miss.”

“Sorry, Miss.”

“Lady (Y/N), is everything all right?”

(Y/N) ignored them all, hearing the wheeze of the tardis louder and louder until she reached a tearoom. She stood against it, catching her breath and hearing the sound warp.

She braced herself and opened the door. There in full glory was the tardis. It stood glowing and ominous as the day she saw it concealed in the trees.

Closing the door behind her, she whispered, breathless, “River?”

There was no answer.

“River, please,” she pleaded, reaching the box handle and pulling. It remained locked tight. “Hello?” (Y/N) knocked.

“Hello?”

“River!”

“(Y/N), finally!” River laughed, “I’m sorry our last conversation was cut short.”

(Y/N) sighed, leaning against the police box, “We don’t have much time. The dream doesn’t like us asking questions… or making escape plans, for that matter.”

“Have you gotten the Doctor to see the truth?” she spoke within (Y/N)’s mind.

“Yes, though I don’t think he sees the entirety of it.”

River grumbled, “What’s he going on about now?”

“Well, he refuses to think of another way out other than playing our characters assigned to us.”

“No, no – that’s just a mode of survival,” River said, “We can’t talk here. I can already feel the connection getting severed. You need to be somewhere away from the place you woke up.”

(Y/N) nodded, “Somewhere away from the estate.”

“Get somewhere far as soon as you can. Then I’ll try and reach you again – good luck, sweetie.”

(Y/N) felt a tug in her heart. River became silent and when (Y/N) blinked, the tardis was gone. She was left alone in a tearoom.

It was imperative that she got to a faraway location. Feeling out of breath, she ran for the staircase once more, the house slippers dainty on her running feet. She had to lift the hem of her dress as she ran outside, noticing how the grumbling clouds ahead seemed closer, and angrier.

Not trusting herself to remember how to ride a horse like in the last reality, she took off for the tree line on foot.

Trying to convince a chauffer to drive her would be impossible, besides she had to be alone when she sought after River Song. The delicate hairstyle that Amelia braided was coming undone as she fought against the hills and grass and incoming wind.

If the Doctor wasn’t going to do anything about an escape plan, then she was going to have to step up. She didn’t want to be stuck having to pretend in each new existence. She wanted the Doctor back. The Doctor and their old life.

Finding cover under a grove of trees, the light became considerably darker as the storm clouds sat heavy above her. She was far enough from the house now that perhaps the dream would be preoccupied with trying to locate her.

Then there was the wheeze of the tardis again.

“River!” she shouted, unafraid in the sanctuary of the woods. Quite like in the last reality, the tardis appeared nestled between the trees.

“(Y/N)? Brilliant, you were able to get away.”

“But I don’t know for how long,” she replied, running to the blue wood and placing a hand there. “Tell me how to get out of here.”

The tardis warped as River’s voice came through like a static walkie-talkie. “I told you there’ll have to be a big shock. (Y/N), I think you have to scare yourself awake. Like waking from a nightmare.”

(Y/N) leaned against the spaceship, ignoring the light spackle of rain that began to fall. “How am I supposed to scare myself awake?”

“I have my theories,” River continued, the metallic sound of buttons being pressed could be heard through the trees. “But none of them are pretty.”

“What can I do?”

“You’re going to have to die.”

(Y/N) felt the breath stick in her lungs, the smell of damp soil and rain filling her quickly emptying brain.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s the natural survival instinct. Like if you were trapped underwater, your body has a natural self-preservation instinct to get air back in your lungs. In this case, your body will wake itself up if your dream state is compromised.”

She soaked up the information, “And the Doctor?”

“I can imagine finding you dead would be enough of a shock to wake himself up.”

(Y/N) now leaned her head against the tardis, the rain beginning to fall more forcefully, “How do you suggest it happens?”

“For the last couple hours I’ve been working on how I can manipulate the conditions of your dream. I could make something plausible happen to you – something realistic to the reality you’re in so the dream isn’t suspicious.”

“Seems a little farfetched.”

“I’ve been manipulating the atmosphere from inside the tardis. Has the weather changed at all since we’ve been talking?”

(Y/N) gave a choked laugh, “It started to rain.”

River sighed, “Excellent. You should expect to get sick in the next day or so.”

“By your doing?”

“Precisely,” River said, “I hear the Spanish flu is all the rage in this time period.”

(Y/N) grimaced, “That doesn’t seem like a pleasant way to go.”

“But it’ll wake you up,” River urged, “We’re running out of time. I’ll see you soon, please keep the Doctor in check.”

The tardis was beginning to fade beneath her fingers, “Sure, thank you River,” she said, backing away and under the full deluge of rain. “You better make it quick.”

The spaceship was fully disappearing now, and the massive droplets of rain were feeling colder by the second. Being drenched in the cold would surely weaken her immune system. And then all River had to do was put someone with the flu virus in her vicinity.

With so many members of staff and incoming guests at Downton, that part was simple.

The trek back to the estate was much more grueling than running from it. With the combination of the rain and the slip of her soaking slippers, she was a mess upon entering the house.

Having fallen in the overflowing hills, the white of her tights were torn and muddy. The delicate soles of her shoes were compromised and left her toes wet and cold. Her hair fell from their braids, left damp and curled against her face.

She resisted the shivers as a lady’s maid gasped at the sight of her.

“Lady (Y/N)!” It was Amelia, “What happened to you?”

“Good evening, Amelia,” she replied, “How was your house hunting?”

The lady’s maid ran over to grasp her arm, “Abysmal – the rain ruined the fun. We just returned. My lord, you’re chilled to the bone.” She pulled on her arm, towards the stairs, “Let’s get you warm. There’s a cold going around and I’d hate for you to catch it.”

(Y/N) smiled ironically at her maid. The year was 1918 and the Spanish flu pandemic was fully on its way. River knew what she was doing.

“I hope Mr. Smith hasn’t returned,” Amelia continued, guiding (Y/N) into her bedroom. “I’d hate for him to see you like this.”

“Would you now?” (Y/N) sighed, the forward nature of her maid – gossiper that she was – could be just what she needed now. “Why is that?”

“Well, on our ride today…” Amelia began, gathering dry clothes and stoking the fireplace, “I told you of my suspicions of his affections toward you. Now there isn’t a doubt in my mind.”

(Y/N) waited for the maid to help her into her nightgown. “Quite the spy you are, Amelia.”

“I beg your pardon, miss. But it’s true – that man has got his heart set on you something fierce.” She fixed the buttons on the nightgown and got a towel to dry (Y/N)’s hair. “I know he’d fret over you if you fell ill.”

“Kind of him,” she said quietly, seeking the softness of the bedsheets. “I’m terribly tired, Amelia. Please send apologies to my family. I don’t believe I’ll attend dinner tonight.”

“Of course, M’lady,” Amy bowed, “I’ll ask that they don’t disturb you.” She made sure the fireplace was full and hot before exiting the room.

(Y/N) laid there trying to get warm. A headache was already growing, and a tickle residing in her throat.

~~~

River worked fast.

Within the next three days a fever grew to exponential degrees. She was wracked with insomnia and coughing fits. She was prone to nosebleeds and sweating through the sheets.

A medical doctor listened to her lungs and met with the group of people waiting for the prognosis outside the room.

With the door ajar, (Y/N) could just barely make out the conversation.

“She’s entering respiratory failure,” the doctor whispered, “Pneumonia has ravaged her lungs. I’d expect things to get a lot worse within the next day.”

Other worried mutterings filled the space. “How long?” came the determined voice of John – the Doctor.

“It’d be a miracle if she made it through the night.”

And that’s why the pandemic was so historic. People would catch the flu and a few days later would die. It killed them quick.

The family thanked the doctor, but John was quick to request time alone with her. The door was shut and (Y/N) could feel the pressure of someone leaning in beside her.

Nimble fingers found her clammy hand, “(Y/N)…”

Her feverish head rolled on the pillow, rasping when she said, “Doctor?”

“I don’t understand,” he said quietly, holding her hand more fiercely. “I didn’t think this would be a part of our script.”

“It’s just a dream, Doctor,” she coughed, “I’ll be okay.”

“You don’t know that,” he said darkly, “We don’t know what’s keeping us here.”

She fell victim to the pneumonia, coughing savagely. The Doctor grabbed her arm as if he could pull her to him and make it all better. He felt hopeless. He felt angry.

“We need to change the reality,” he ground out. “We need to leave this script.”

“That won’t change anything,” she rasped. “We have to let this play out.”

“I can’t,” he said quietly.

The fever was making her delusional, but it sounded like the Doctor was teary.

“Stop,” she said breathlessly, her eyes closed against the heat in her head. “Leave it be.”

“I can’t,” he repeated, “I won’t.”

She was fading, about to succumb to another bout of terrible, sickened sleep. She weakly wriggled her fingers within his grasp. “This is how we escape.”

The Doctor froze beside her, the wetness developing behind his eyes stalled. “What do you mean?”

“River…” she whispered, falling deeper in her sickness.

“River?” he said, “You’ve contacted River Song?” He stood from where his was kneeling, “What has she been telling you?”

(Y/N) had fallen under, the wheeze of her breath the symphony of her bloody lungs. The Doctor leaned over her, furious at being left out of a conspiracy. He was shaking, unable to look at the speckle of sweat against her temples, unable to look at the bluish tinge of her lips or the dark circles under her eyes.

Was it River’s doing? Was she the reason (Y/N) became fatally ill? She was smart enough to trick the rules of the dream state.

“Oi!” he suddenly yelled, “Hey!” He left (Y/N)’s bedside, screaming up at the ceiling, “You’re being manipulated. This was a revision of the dream. Someone is trying to invade. Please…” he breathed heavy, looking towards the sky. “Please don’t let her die.”

~~~

(Y/N) woke up sitting in a rolling desk chair. She was dressed in a professional women’s cut suit and a brown file folder was on the round table in front of her. She was in a meeting room with glass walls and a flatscreen tv.

She rubbed at her temples, the last remnants of the Spanish flu fading away. “What the hell…” she grumbled.

The door suddenly flew open, a group of people all similarly dressed in professional attire coming in with their own file folders.

Jack Harkness, Donna Noble, Amy Pond, and Rory Williams.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Jack winked, sitting beside her, “Did you sleep here?”

“Must’ve,” she said, massaging a crick in her neck, “We’ve been swamped with the press.”

Donna scoffed, sitting down and kicking her feet up, “You’re telling me! Those scavengers will pick our bones clean to get the tiniest detail on this case.”

“Hey, you’re the best liaison we have,” Amy nudged her friend, “I just can’t believe they asked the DAU to help with the case.”

(Y/N) scrunched her brow, finally reading the ink stamp on the front of her file folder.

DAU: Disaster Analysis Unit.

“This is a high profile case,” Rory said, opening his side bag to find his glasses, “They need as much help as they can get.”

“I don’t fancy the world ending because of some lunatic in a cocktail dress,” Donna said, flipping through the folder, “I mean who decides to be on the run from international governments in four-inch heels.”

“Classy,” Jack said with a grin, “If I was a criminal, I’d want to do it in style too.”

The door opened again, and (Y/N) had to consciously keep her mouth shut. The Doctor came walking in, file folder in hand. He was in a clean, pressed suit, his hair combed to the side and the lightest bit of scruff growing on his face.

He looked so un-Doctorish, but terribly attractive.

“Good morning, team,” he said with a commanding tone. He must have been the head of the DAU team. “We’ve gotten our next case and have pressure from all sides to apprehend her before a doomsday occurs.”

He went to turn the tv on, “Previously our unknown subject, she’s been identified after her last attempt to devastate England. She was caught trying to plague major cities with vials of disease she developed at her university. She tried to cause a worldwide pandemic.”

(Y/N) gulped, already guessing who their unknown subject was.

The tv flickered on and plastered to the screen was a picture of the suspect:

Professor River Song.

~~~

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elthecreator · 1 year ago

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Ugh I love you guys so much. My hard work never seems to go to waste<33. Especially as a beginner omfg. You have no idea how much it means to me when you guys keep blowing up my fics. Happy Halloween!!! 👻🎃🕸️🩸 might do a halloween special 🤭. What were y’all for halloween? I was a Dark Alice in wonderland, I looked hot ASF. Went just a littleeeeee slutty this year lmfao.

I love y’all mwah !

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uniquexusposts · 6 months ago

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hi are you still writing for james beaufort ?

The best friend - James Beaufort

Main characters: James Beaufort x reader Genre: fanfiction, fluff, TV show Word count: 1.999

Summary: An insight into James and Y/N's relationship. Or is it more?

James rang the bell of the property and waited for someone to open the door. He looked around; this house always reminded him of Downton Abbey for some reason. Because of him, people called it the Downtown Abbey house. The door swung open a minute later, and Y/N’s dad smiled. “Hello, mate,” he welcomed James. “Come in.” He was wearing a kitchen gown.

“Hello,” James replied, entering the house. “Thank you. Is she upstairs?”

Y/N’s dad nodded. “She just came back from work,” he said, and they walked through the hall together. When James wanted to walk up the stairs, Y/N’s dad asked: “Will you be staying over for dinner?”

“If it isn’t a problem?” James showed a small smile.

“Of course not! I will peel just a few more potatoes.”

“Thank you,” James replied and nodded.

He walked up the stairs, and as he reached the first floor, he heard some music. A steady beat of rap music filled the hall, an unexpected soundtrack for this place. James knew instantly it wasn’t coming from Y/N’s room; rap was the one genre she couldn’t stand. This had to mean her older brother was home. James smiled, remembering the countless times he and Y/N had joked about her brother’s eclectic music tastes. He approached Y/N’s room, knocking gently before pushing the door open. He found her lying on her stomach on her bed, looking exhausted. She barely reacted to his presence, only turning her head slightly so she could see him.

“Hey,” she mumbled, a yawn escaping her lips.

“Hey,” James replied softly, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “Long day?”

“The longest,” Y/N sighed, her voice muffled by the pillow. “I don’t think I’ve moved since I got home.” She followed his every movement, taking off his jacket, tie and shoes. He walked over to her bed and sat on the edge. “What a surprise to see you here,” she mentioned.

“I haven’t seen you for a while, so I thought, let’s check up on the best friend,” he said and ran his hand through his hair.

Y/N padded on the mattress beside her, inviting him to lie beside her. “The best friend saw you last week,” she replied.

“Which is a while back. The best friend and I used to see each other every day.” James lay beside her, placing his arm behind his head when his head hit the pillow.

“That’s a few months ago,” she shot back.

“And?”

They looked at each other for a few seconds. The corners of Y/N’s lips started to curl up, which also made James smile.

“How are you?” Y/N then asked, her voice softening since it was a deep question for James.

James looked away from her, focusing his eyes now on the desk, which was full of stuff. It wasn’t like Y/N to have a messy desk. “I’m fine,” he breathed.

“Sure?”

He nodded slowly.

“And school?”

“The usual.”

“Good.”

“Ja.”

After a few minutes of silence, James turned his head to Y/N. He scanned her face; she was zoning out. He reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face. They shared a quiet moment.

Suddenly, an alarm went off. James looked around the room, trying to determine where the alarm came from. It was an alarm from a phone.

Y/N softly groaned and stopped the alarm. “Time to get up,” she said and pushed herself up. “Otherwise, I will be doing nothing for the rest of the evening.” She turned around and sat on her bed, stretching her arms and shoulders. When she heard a snort next to her, she turned to James. “What?”

“You never fail to surprise me with your strange habits,” he laughed, sitting up.

She smiled and shrugged. “I guess I’m strange.”

“Luckily.”

They both got up from the bed.

“Your life would be so boring without me,” she cheekily replied, making a bun in her hair.

James squinted his eyes. “Hmm, I’m not sure.” He showed a playful smile. “Perhaps…”

She raised her eyebrows. “Perhaps what?”

They held their gaze for a few seconds, their playful tension palpable. Smiling, they moved closer without realising it, their connection deepening with each passing moment.

James finally broke the silence, his voice soft and filled with affection. “Perhaps my life would be incredibly dull without you.”

Y/N’s eyes sparkled with amusement and something deeper. “Good to know you’re aware.” She switched the light off and opened the door to the hallway.

“How was work, by the way?” James asked, closing the door behind him. Together, they walked down the stairs to the living room.

“Busy,” she sighed.

It was hard to admit, but James was jealous of Y/N in almost every way possible. One of them was the freedom she got from her parents. She had the freedom to explore her passion and what she wanted to do in the future. Y/N was currently in her gap year, working as a barista in a cafe in the next town. Her parents were very supportive of her decision. However, she had to work for at least four days. It didn’t matter what kind of job, but she had to work.

“But it was fine. For some reason, we had a very long rush hour. The time flew by,” she continued, sharing some weird situations with some customers.

When they arrived at the living room, the doors to the terrace were wide open, and in the distance, Y/N's little brother and sister were playing football in the garden. They also walked to the terrace but decided to sit on the lounge set.

James leaned back, the cushions soft against his back. “Sounds like you had quite a day.” He looked at her, admiring her resilience and positive outlook. He wished he had the same kind of freedom and support to pursue his passions without the weight of expectations bearing down on him. He unbuttoned the buttons of his sleeves and rolled them up his arms.

“Ey,” Y/N mumbled and picked up a lost button from the sofa. She held it up between her thumb and wise finger. “Just because you don’t like it, you don’t have to sprinkle it around,” she smirked and grabbed his arm left, unfolding the sleeve, checking if it belonged to this side.

“I just wanted to mark my territory.”

“Like you haven’t done that enough here,” she replied. She rolled the left sleeve up again, unfolding the right side. “Bingo.” She gave James the button. “Let me get the sewing kit.”

“It’s alright. I will let someone fix it at my place. Besides, I have enough white shirts.”

“It’s just a two-minute job. Besides, I know it is a new white shirt, and it’s too good to just throw it away because one button is missing, James.”

Before he could say anything about it, she had walked away. The left corner of his mouth curled up, and he looked at the button. He could hear her talk to her dad in the distance. He still heard some soft beats from the music upstairs, and he heard the sibling dynamic between the kids playing football.

Y/N sat down beside him again. “Arm,” she said and made a gesture. She opened the small box, probably an old cigar box and got a needle and some wire.

James placed his arm on her lap. “Don’t poke me,” he reminded her.

She took a deep breath and lifted her head, straightening her face. “Shit, there goes my plan.”

“I need to stay away from you.”

She licked her lips and casually shrugged. “I know where to find you,” she said.

“Oo, now I’m scared.”

Y/N pointed the needle at him and laughed. “As you should.”

“Aah, no, I don’t want to die. Don’t do it to me,” his voice raised, but his face stayed neutral.

She sighed and sewed the button back on the sleeve. “Hopeless.”

The music became louder. The loud music was blasting from his speaker when the Y/N’s older brother stood in front of the lounge set. He was moving along with the beat, standing in front of Y/N and James purposely. Y/N gave him a side eye, which gave him a satisfied reaction; he smiled.

“Turn that music down, mate,” Y/N’s dad said and put some plates with cutlery on the table outside. “Put on a chill playlist and set the table, will you?”

“Si Señor,” the brother said. He looked at his little sister and James. “The best friends are together again,” he said and walked over to James. “Hey, man.” He wanted to go for a handshake, but it was a weird high-five since Y/N was working on James’ right hand.

James returned the high-five with a chuckle, the easy banter between them adding to the relaxed atmosphere. “Hey, good to see you,” he greeted Y/N’s brother.

“Likewise,” the brother replied, shooting James a friendly grin before turning to Y/N. “So, what’s the occasion? You two planning a secret rendezvous or something?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but there was a playful glint in them. “Nothing like that. Just fixing James’ button.”

“Ah, the old ‘sewing buttons’ trick,” the brother winked. “Classic move. By the way, Y/N, where is mum?”

“Work,” Y/N replied. “Well, I think she will be home any second now.” Looking up, she saw her mum walking in the living room. “Speaking of the devil.” She nodded towards her mum.

“Ah, mother!” The brother said, widening his arms and greeting his mum.

Y/N bit her lip while focusing. “Oh, this is light pink wire,” she mumbled and looked sorry at him. “Sorry. I can do it over with white wire.”

James widely smiled and shook his head. “It’s fine,” he mentioned. Every time that I wear this shirt, it will remind me of you,” he winked.

“Sure,” she dodged his words. “Anyway, will you be joining us for dinner?” A smile curved on her lips.

“Would love to,” he smiled. He didn’t want to say that her dad already invited him, since she looked excited when asking.

Y/N nodded and continued sewing.

They fell into a comfortable silence, the music now a soothing background melody as they finished sewing the button back onto James’ sleeve. Once they were done, Y/N leaned back, admiring their handiwork.

“James, sweetheart,” Y/N’s mum cheerfully said. “It’s good to see you.”

“Good evening,” James politely smiled.

“Looks good as new,” Y/N declared, a satisfied smile on her face as she rolled up his sleeve again.

“Thanks, Y/N,” James replied, giving her a playful nudge.

The entire family gathered around the dining table outside and made sure the table was all set. They all sat down to enjoy the dinner Y/N’s dad had prepared. James felt a sense of gratitude wash over him. Surrounded by the warmth of Y/N’s family. The conversations they held during dinner were filled with laughter and funny expressions.

Then Y/N’s mum wanted to invite James for tomorrow. “We are going to sail tomorrow. Would you like to join? Maybe you can ask Lydia, too,” she proposed.

A sparkle came in Y/N’s eyes when she looked at James, hoping he would say yes. “We can pick Lydia up tonight, so you both can stay here for the night. Then we don’t have to rush tomorrow morning,” Y/N proposed while looking at her parents, who seemed to agree.

“Yes, I would love to. I will be there, but I will ask Lydia,” James widely smiled.

Click here to read part 2

#james beaufort #maxton hall #maxton hall the world between us #james beaufort fluff #james beaufort x reader #james beaufort reader fluff #james beaufort reader #james beaufort y/n fluff #maxton hall die welt zwischen uns #damian hardung #james beaufort x y/n

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asunsetgrace16 · 6 months ago

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✧ …𝗛𝗘𝗬 𝗗𝗔𝗗, 𝗙𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗬 𝗦𝗘𝗘𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘⎥𝗖𝗕98

Pairing: Connor Bedard x fem!Crosby!reader

Warnings: swearing

Summary: Connor and Y/N Crosby, Sidney's daughter, are in a secret relationship and are outed when she goes to the All Stars with her dad

Notes: The italics section is the flashback to how Connor and Y/N met. This is my new longest fic, and man I got carried away writing how Y/N and Connor met. Not really proofread, so hope for the best. Requested by anonymous.

masterlist⎥ navigation

Word Count: 2.3k

It’s not exactly unexpected, for Connor Bedard and Y/N Crosby to be dating. His childhood idol, her father. Their lives are interconnected by a web of hockey players, former teammates, and friendships a mile deep. But, the caveat is, no one actually knows they are together.

Y/N knew her dad would lose his mind when he found out who exactly her boyfriend is. From the time she was old enough to date, the rule was no hockey players, absolutely no teammates, and especially no rookies. Will he find out? Eventually, but not any time soon if Y/N has anything to say about it.

“I have tickets to most of the Canadian games, and I want to watch them win gold, in person. I was planning on going to the condo. No Dad, I'm fine. No, you don’t need to have Auntie Taylor come with me. I’m absolutely taking advantage of the fact that we have a place right where the World Juniors are happening. I’m seventeen for God’s sake, and I’ve been fairly independent for years. I’ll be fine.” Y/N says, on the phone with her dad.

“I know, but you’re still my little girl. I’ll always want to protect you, no matter how old you get.” her dad, Sidney, says.

“I know dad, but this will be good practice for when I’m away at university.” She tells him teasingly.

“Uhhhg, don’t remind me.” he groans, “I trust you not to burn the place down, and try not to go overboard, with anything. The credit card for food and stuff is in the safe, and you have your own for anything else. Call me, if you need anything.”

“Thanks dad, I will.”

“Love you honey.”

Love you too, dad. Bye.”

There, that’s settled, Y/N thinks to herself. She is already in Cole Harbour, staying with her grandparents for Christmas. They already know her plans, and she convinced –not that she needed any convincing– her aunt Taylor to come with her for a girls trip. She flips her laptop open, hits play on Downton Abbey, and finishes her packing.

“Tay, are you ready yet?” Y/N calls a few hours later. She hefts her suitcase down the stairs, shouldering a backpack.

“Yeah bug, just put my bags in the car. Bring yours out here too.” Taylor replies, “We can be on the road in twenty if we hurry.”

“Make it fifteen.” Y/N challenges with a grin.

The preliminary round of the tournament passes fast. After the shocking Game 1 loss, Canada bounces back and plows through every game afterwards. An exciting quarterfinals win against Slovakia has Canada set to play USA in the semifinals. A match up that always promises an electric game.

After the quarterfinal game, Y/N and Taylor head back to the dressing rooms and player’s entrance for a shortcut to the parking lot. They both have access, thanks to Sid. They talk excitedly about Bedard’s OT winner, a wicked 3-on-1 goal.

“That was incredible.” Y/N exclaims. She’s no stranger to good hockey, but seeing a player that young, one her own age, to have such amazing talent is unreal to see.

“Yes it was-” Taylor starts, but is cut off by a man in a suit stalking towards them.

“Hey! You two aren’t allowed back here. Players and staff only. Who do you think you are? Waltzing around here like you own the place? No respect anymore.” He rants before someone grabs him, pulling him away from Y/N and Taylor.

“I am so sorry about Randy. I’m Jim, by the way.” Jim apologizes, “I’m assuming that since you’re back here, you have permission. Is there something I can do to make it up to you? Wait, you’re Crosby’s daughter, aren't you? This makes a lot more sense now.”

“Yes I am, and we have permission. I can’t think of anything, it’s not necessary.” Y/N says. But Jim is determined, knowing who she is now. He offers to introduce the women to the team. They agree, and after Jim explains the situation to Randy, they all head back towards Canada’s dressing room. Talking the whole way, Jim explains that the team has a place rented for the tournament where the boys can hang out and relax.

“If you’d like to join us, you are more than welcome. I won’t tell them who you are, I’ll let that happen naturally.” Jim says with a wink. “I want to see the look on their faces. It’s too bad your dad couldn't make it. That would really blow their socks off.” The group laughs and waits for Randy to make sure all the guys are decent, and beacons them in with a sheepish look, apologizing once again. The introduction is basic, no announcement or anything. Taylor and Y/N meet the rest of the staff first, quickly becoming engrossed in conversation.

“So,” the head coach says, “Crosby’s daughter. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“And you.” Y/N replies.

“Coach, did you just say Crosby's daughter? She's here? Holy shit!” one of the players exclaims, joining their little group. “I’m Brandt, nice to meet you. Is your dad here, by chance?” He says, very quickly. The energy rolls right off of him.

“No, he’s not, unfortunately. West Coast road trip.” Y/N says, failing to hide a giggle.

“Wanna mess with the guys with me?” Brandt asks, a scheming look on his face.

“Always.”

“Ok, I’m going to introduce you around, but not mention your last name. I want to see how long it takes the guys to figure out who you are.”

“Oh I like that.” They grin at each other, and make their way around the room. Before long, the whole team is standing or sitting close together, chatting with Y/N. The adrenaline can still be felt in the dressing room.

“So how long are you in town for?” Dylan asks, “Hopefully long enough to watch us win gold.”

Y/N and Brandt exchange a look, “I’m planning on it. I don’t have to be back in Pittsburgh until the tenth.”

“Pittsburgh? You came all the way up here, to watch a Canadian team win? That makes no sense.” Logan wonders, looking confused.

“Oh I’m Canadian, I just live in Pittsburg with my dad. I was up visiting my grandparents for Christmas.” Y/N says. It is getting awfully difficult to keep a straight face.

“Where do your grandparents live?” That comes from Olen.

“Cole Harbour.”

“Does that mean you've met Sidney Crosby?” Ethan asks.

“Yup, see him all the time.” She bites back a smile. Brandt has to turn around and take a deep, shuddering breath so he doesn’t give them away. Connor sees him out of the corner of his eye.

“Wait, you’re Y/N Crosby!” Connor says, standing up just as Y/N and Brandt burst out laughing. The rest of the boys look shocked as the two struggle to stop laughing. Connor grins, chuckling as Y/N wipes honest-to-goodness tears from her eyes. The staff and Taylor laugh amongst themselves, watching the young folks.

“Guilty as charged.” She says breathlessly, silently wondering if Brandt is going to die of oxygen deprivation at this point. His face is pretty red. Now the questions are really flowing by the time Brandt finally regains some composure. The excited chatter doesn’t stop at the restaurant, either. Y/N and Taylor are invited to stay. As the evening winds down, Y/N finds herself with Connor, conversation flowing easily.

“Nice goal, by the way. Dad was impressed.” Y/N says, nudging his shoulder with hers.

“Really?” Connor flushes. Cute.

“Yeah, he sees a lot in you.”

“That is…I have no words.” He admits. “Do you, um, do you think you’d want to sit with my family for the rest of the games? I want to talk to you more, and um…I’m just going to stop talking before I make a fool out of myself.”

“I’d love to.”

Connor and Y/N spend a lot of time together in the following days. She sits with his family during the final, and celebrates with them after they win gold.

“We did it!” Connor shouts, picking Y/N up and spinning her around. There is a moment when he sets her down where her arms are still on his shoulders and his hands are on her waist. The noise fades away, just the two of them in a little bubble. “Can I have your number? I’d like to keep talking to you, and take you out sometime.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” She replies.

Now, over a year and 10 months into dating later, Connor and Y/N are both in Toronto for the All Stars.

“Hey baby.” Connor says, putting his phone away when Y/N slips into the empty visitors dressing room.

“Hey Con.” She goes to him easily, settling comfortably into his open arms. He puts his chin on her head and tightens his hold on her. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too. I’m glad you decided to come.”

“Me too.” She tips her head up, meeting Connor in the middle for a sweet kiss. They go back to their hug, Y/N tucked against his chest, feeling warm again in the cold arena. They simply stand like that, swaying gently and soaking up the moment. They get so wrapped up in each other that they fail to hear voices outside the door. Connor goes to kiss Y/N again, but is interrupted by the door slamming open. Their heads snap to the door, wide eyed and scared.

“Y/N ANNA CROSBY. WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?” Sidney yells furiously, steam practically shooting from his ears like a cartoon character. Nate is standing close behind him, and Cale, Mathew Barzal, and Brady Tkachuk stand in the doorway. Connor and Y/N take a step back from each other, but keep their hands tightly clasped.

“How dare you not tell me about this. You know the rules, I expect you to follow them.”

“I-” She begins.

“And you,” Sid says, pointing at Connor, “I expected better from you. You’re a good kid, but I have rules for a reason.” Y/N grips Connor’s hand, squeezing three times.

“You can’t control me like this, Dad. I’ve never had a real relationship because of you. So much of my life is wrapped up in hockey that it was easy to find my person there, and if it wasn’t a hockey-playing boyfriend, it was a hockey fan boyfriend which is worse. All they ever wanted to talk about was you, they never wanted me for who I am. Or you just plain scared them off because ‘no one is good enough for my daughter so why should she even bother’.” Y/N says back to him. Her chest is heaving and she is fighting off tears.

“I can’t believe that you didn’t tell me this. How long have you two been together anyways?” Sid asks, still pissed off.

“Ten months.” Connor replies, voice strong and true despite the situation. He is nervous, of course, but he loves Y/N too much to let his childhood idol have much of an impact.

“TEN MONTHS!” Sid exclaims, incredulous that his daughter kept this secret, “Bloody hell. What possessed you to keep this from me?”

“This exact reaction that I knew would happen. I knew that if I told you when Connor first asked me out, you would flat-out forbid me to see him, and that wouldn’t have ended the way you wanted anyway. At least this way the two of us can act as a united front and you can see that this isn’t bad. We are both 18, legal adults. You can’t tell me what to do anymore.”

Sid stays silent. He is still angry, but the figurative steam has gone away. Nate and the others hover around the door.

Y/N continues, “I get it, Dad. You just want to protect me, and I love you for it. But I’m not a little kid anymore, I can’t be sheltered forever. And Connor’s good to me. You know he would be.” She takes a deep breath, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I knew that if I did, you would react exactly the way you are. I wanted to be able to figure out my relationship without my dad looking over my shoulder the whole time.”

Sid’s face falls at her monologue. He can finally understand what Y/N was trying to say for years. “I’m sorry sweetheart. I had no intention for it to go that far. It is hard to watch you grow up, but I need to grow up some too and understand that you are an adult now. In my attempts to protect you, I drove you straight into what I always knew would happen. Thankfully, you picked a good one.” Sid pulls his daughter into a hug, tears threatening to fall. “I’m sorry. Please forgive me, it wasn’t fair of me.”

“Thanks dad, for apologizing. I know you meant well, but I don’t think this wasn’t the best way to get you to see my side of it” Y/N quips, a wry smile on her face.

“I’m still pissed that you didn’t tell me, but I’d rather it was you than a lot of other guys” Sid states, reaching out to shake Connor’s hand, “but if you hurt her, I have a lot of power in this game.”

“I know,” Connor says, eyes focused on Y/N. A look so full of love even Sidney can’t deny it, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Awwww.” The trio looks up to see the other four guys with their hands clasped over their hearts, cute pouts on their lips.

“The babies are in love.” Cale says with a grin.

#‣ ✦ ‣ sunset works ＞ fics #‣ ✦ ‣〈 connor bedard 〉#nhl #chicago blackhawks #connor bedard #connor bedard x reader #hockey imagine #nhl x reader #connor bedard imagine #nhl fluff

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swan-of-sunrise · 1 year ago

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His Girl Friday

Summary: At Tony Stark's forty-fourth birthday party, the genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist and his longtime personal assistant finally address what's remained unspoken but secretly acknowledged between them for many, many years.

Pairings: Tony Stark X F!Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Hi guys! This is my first time writing a Tony-centric fic and I had a lot of fun with it, so thank you for reading and I hope you all enjoy!

His Girl Friday May 29th, 2014 Avengers Tower, New York City (Fanfiction Masterlist)

Being employed as Anthony Edward Stark’s personal assistant was a challenging and often times perilous job, and that was before he’d announced himself to the world as Iron Man. But (Y/N) (Y/L/N) was no ordinary personal assistant; she stood by the genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist when he vowed to stop producing weapons at Stark Industries after being imprisoned by terrorists for three long months, she stuck with him when his secret illness and subsequent erratic behavior drove nearly everyone else away, and she flat-out refused to believe he’d been killed at the hands of the Mandarin. It was evident that Tony Stark was the closest thing she had to a best friend. Lately, however, she’d begun to notice a significant shift in her feelings towards her employer, feelings that definitely went beyond friendship and feelings that she suspected he was feeling as well; she tried her best to keep them at bay, fearful of ruining such a meaningful friendship and throwing away the only job she’d ever truly enjoyed on a baseless suspicion, and thankfully, there were always plenty of distractions to keep herself preoccupied with in her unique line of work.

From her place at the back of the room, (Y/N) scanned over the enormous checklist in her hands to see if she’d missed anything important; the guests were chatting, dancing and taking full advantage of the open bar while the DJ was playing all of Tony’s favorite songs in honor of his forty-forth birthday. All in all, not one of the worst birthday parties I’ve ever planned for him, she thought to herself, a reluctant smile playing on her lips as she recalled the disastrous thirty-ninth birthday party that resulted in the Malibu mansion’s near destruction at the hands of Tony and Rhodey. That particular birthday party was the reason why she’d initially been a little nervous at the prospect of the Avengers attending the soiree, but it only took a brief glance around the bustling common room to see that they were the perfect guests; Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson played pool with Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff, while Bruce Banner hovered near the back of the enamored crowd of people that surrounded a slightly-inebriated Thor and listened to his enthusiastic re-tellings of the adventures he’d had on Asgard. Pepper and Dr. Helen Cho were seated at the bar and chatted over glasses of Chardonnay while Happy was hyper-focused on his phone, no doubt catching up on an episode of Downton Abbey. With an inward chuckle, the personal assistant returned her attention to her lengthy list of tasks as the classic rock music continued to play.

“Hey beautiful, how ‘bout a dance?”

“Sorry, but I’m worki-” (Y/N) looked up to see Tony Stark himself standing before her, looking as handsome as ever in his expertly tailored black tuxedo and flashing her his signature grin that never failed to make her heart skip a beat. “Hey, you. How’re you enjoying your birthday party?”

Tony tucked his hands into his pockets and shrugged noncommittally. “It’s one of your better-executed extravaganzas, I will say, but it would absolutely skyrocket to the top if I could spend the rest of the evening with my favorite personal assistant.”

(Y/N) arched a skeptical eyebrow. “Tony, I’m your only personal assistant.”

“Exactly, which meant you get the title by default. Yay you!” The billionaire gave her a small applause and she simply heaved an exasperated but fond sigh at his typical theatrics. “C’mon, Girl Friday, you’ve been working your ass off all night and the Birthday Boy says that you should take a well-deserved break.” As his trademark smirk softened into a gentle smile, Tony took his hand out of his pocket and offered it to her in a clear invitation to join him. “Please?”

Although her heart was screaming at her to take his hand and allow him to whisk her into an evening of laughter and coy flirtations, the rational part of her knew that she had a job to complete and that anything more than a friendly conversation could jeopardize their platonic relationship. Masking her disappointment with a shrug and apologetic smile, (Y/N) shook her head and held up her checklist for him to see. “I’m sorry, Tony, but I still have so much to do; I’ve gotta do another check-in with Maria and the security team downstairs, make sure that the pastry chef brings out the cake on time, that the waiters serve the guests champagne at the right tempera-Tony!” She exclaimed when Tony’s hand shot out and snatched the checklist out of her grasp. “Anthony Edward Stark, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Getting rid of an obstacle,” Tony easily replied, holding the checklist above his head and snickering when she unsuccessfully attempted to snatch it back. “Seriously, Girl Friday, just one dance and I’ll let you get back to your boring planning. I’ll even avoid bugging you the rest of the night if it means I can spend a little time with one of my best friends.”

Tony’s rare sincerity softened (Y/N)’s heart, and she felt her resolve crumble as she stared into his gleaming brown eyes. “All right, one dance. Do you ever get tired with always getting your way?”

“Nope!” Tony happily popped the ‘p’ and tucked the checklist into the pocket of his tuxedo jacket before offering her his hand once again, and (Y/N) smiled to herself as the billionaire escorted her to the edge of the dance floor and whisked her into a slow dance to Bon Jovi’s ‘Bed of Roses.’ The warmth of his hand on the curve of her waist combined with the feel of his body brushing up against hers caused her heartbeat to quicken its pace, and she silently prayed that he wouldn’t notice the effect he had on her. “You know, I was being serious before. You’ve truly outdone yourself tonight, (Y/N), and can I just say that you look amazing?” Tony’s eyes briefly glanced down at her red chiffon evening gown and he gave her an appreciative nod. “Mm-hmm, hot-rod red is definitely your color. So, what’s your secret? How is it you can organize and schedule a genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist’s entire life and look drop-dead gorgeous while doing it?”

(Y/N) chuckled in amusement, the skirt of her gown swirling around her legs as he twirled her in a circle. “We all have our own superpowers; you fight aliens and terrorists in a red and gold Nitinol suit, and I oversee the hectic life of the man inside the suit to the best of my abilities.”

“Not sure which is the more dangerous job, to be honest.” Tony smirked, expertly guiding her back into his arms and holding her slightly closer than he had before. “But if I could do that death-glare that you’ve perfected over the years, then that would sure make my job a helluva lot easier and people would think twice before messing with Iron Man.” (Y/N) arched a brow and in response, Tony snickered. “Yep, there’s the death-glare!”

“I hate to burst your bubble, but this death-glare is tailor-made for Tony Stark and Tony Stark alone,” (Y/N) replied with a wry smile, and the billionaire’s grin widened as she looked into his sparkling brown eyes. They danced together in a comfortable yet expectant silence, almost as if one was waiting for the other to speak first, but both remained quiet while the 80’s power ballad continued to play; it wasn’t until she noticed the way he was biting his lower lip – one of the few tell-tale signs that there was something weighing heavy on the billionaire’s mind – that (Y/N) finally mustered her courage to address him. “You got a lot of cool presents this year, not to mention hundreds of thousands of dollars in charitable donations gifted in your name. Not too shabby, huh?”

Tony shrugged and replied, “I’m a sucker for gifts and I’m beyond stoked that we’ve raised so much in donations, but…” His eyes briefly flicked downwards to focus on the fluttering movement of her chiffon skirt, suddenly appearing as anxious as (Y/N) felt. “Can we play a quick round of Hypothetical Hold’em?”

A nostalgic feeling washed over (Y/N) at the mention of their old game. Back in the more impulsive and less responsible days of Tony Stark, it had been an effective form of decision-making created out of the billionaire’s respect for her opinions and general advice; they hadn’t played very many rounds in the years since he announced to the world that he was Iron Man and while she was happy that he’d grown and matured so much over the years, a small part of her missed their little game. “I’m a little rusty but I think I’ve still got it. Shoot.”

“A guy I know, Walter, he’s got just about everything he could possibly want in life, except the only thing he really wants is something he can’t have. You see,” Tony expertly dipped her and her breath hitched at the sudden movement, their eyes connecting as he continued. “There’s this woman – let’s call her Hildy – and he’s been in love with her for a while. And Hildy, she’s goddamn fantastic: smart, kind, funny, gorgeous, the whole enchilada.”

Heart sinking into her stomach, (Y/N) mustered up a small smile to hide her pain while he slowly righted her. “Hildy sounds wonderful. So, what’s stopping this Walter guy from telling her how he feels?”

“A couple of things, actually.” He took a deep breath. “She’s not just one of his best friends, but…you see, she’s also his personal assistant.”

The din of the party faded away as (Y/N)’s eyes widened in shock at the billionaire’s candid words; if not for the seriousness written across Tony’s face and the longing gleam that had formed in his brown eyes while he stared into hers, she would’ve assumed that he was pulling her leg. But she knew him, knew him far better than almost anyone else in the world, and it was clear as day that he was speaking directly from the heart. “…Oh.”

Tony nodded, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards in a tried and true attempt to hide behind a more lighthearted façade. “She’s taken such good care of him. He was a loose cannon for a long time…still is, in a way, but she’s gotten him through all the tough spots. He’s good friends with some ex-assassins, a super-soldier and a literal god, but she’s the strongest person he’s ever met and the only person he could ever imagine giving his heart to. But as much as he loves her, he’s not willing to roll the dice and risk losing her from his life forever; that’s why he…” Tony cast his gaze downwards and his hand gripped hers tight. “That’s why I never said anything before.”

“So, what changed?” She whispered as she slowly moved the hand that had been resting on his shoulder to press against the spot where his arc reactor once resided, feeling his rapid heartbeat and silently marveling at how perfectly it matched her own.

“Looking across the room and seeing you with your checklist; you’ve planned over a dozen successful birthday parties for me, but that didn’t stop you from treating tonight as if it was the first. It’s one of the thousand ways you show how much you care about me, and that’s what gave me the courage to walk to the back of the room and finally ask you for a dance.”

The booming opening chords of AC/DC’s ‘You Shook Me All Night Long’ filled the room and while more guests took to the dance floor for the lively song, (Y/N) grabbed Tony’s hand and practically dragged him away from the crowd, not stopping until they were tucked away from any prying eyes in Captain Rogers’ nearby office. When she closed the door behind them and turned around, she was met with an apprehensive-looking Tony and her subtle smile grew into an all-out grin as her eyes filled with happy tears. “You love me?”

“I love you,” Tony replied, his voice growing steady and his eyes filling with confidence at her obvious happiness. “C’mon, Girl Friday, you’re killing me here. Do you love me or what?”

Beaming with joy, (Y/N) brought her hands up to cup his face between them and nodded. “You’re such an asshat, but I love you with all my heart.” Tony’s grin grew to match her own and he leaned forward to kiss her, but was halted by her fingers covering his eager lips. “And in the spirit of covering both our asses, I’d like to take this moment to formally tenure my resignation, Mr. Stark.”

“Duly noted, Miss (Y/L/N). And since I’m such a good ex-boss, I’ll send your resume and a letter of recommendation to a certain defrosted super-soldier who could use all the assistance he can get.”

“Becoming Captain America’s personal assistant? It’ll be a cake-walk, but at least I’ll have my favorite hot mess to come home to.”

(Y/N) moved her hand and giggled at how quickly Tony’s arms wrapped around her waist to tug her closer, but her amusement soon gave way to passion as their lips finally met in a long overdue kiss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I figured that we all could use a little fluff, and what better way to deliver it than in a friends-to-lovers trope-fest? Thank you all so much for reading and commenting, and I hope that you have a wonderful holiday season!

Fanfiction Masterlist

Marvel Taglist: @brooke0297

All Works: @crowleysqueenofhell @momc95 @groovy-lady

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specialagentlokitty · 1 year ago

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Thomas Barrow x sister!reader - make sure you’re treated right

I have another idea for a Thomas Barrow x sister reader. Maybe during series two, reader is the same age as Sybil and enrols in a nursing course and works at Downton abbey as a nurse (maybe after watching her brother go off to fight and exchanging letters detailing his life at the front, sister reader wants to do more to help the war effort). Sister reader befriends Sybil and they get along well (maybe reader was the equivalent of Sybil’s lady’s maid previously so they knew each other well) and given their shared work experience, their bond becomes stronger When Thomas returns reader is delighted to see her older brother again, though after nursing the other soldier worries for her brothers well-being as he won’t talk to her about the front or how he got his injury. Maybe whilst he is there, a solider takes a liking to sister reader and it makes her rather uncomfortable (similar to Ethel and the Major Bryant, though things never go that far and reader isn’t interested), Thomas overhears reader telling Sybil about it and Thomas takes matters into his own hands. - Anon💜

You loved reading your brothers letters from his time abroad, knowing that he was safe and well, it was reassuring.

But you couldn’t help that voice in the back of your head telling you that you should be doing something as well.

You loved Downton, it was amazing.

But knowing he was out there, knowing that Lady Sybil was out doing something to help the cause as well made you feel like you had to do something more.

That you had to help somehow.

“Mrs Hughes?” You asked quietly.

“Yes?”

She turned to you and smiled, and you smiled a little bit back.

“I was wondering if maybe… I could ask you for some advice?”

“Of course you may, come along. Is everything alright?”

She led you to somewhere quiet, and you sat down with her, taking a small breath as you tried to figure out how to phrase what you wanted to ask.

“I want to do something to help the war cause, and I was wondering if you think it would be good for me to enrol in the nursing college.”

“I see, you are aware that what you would be seeing are the direct results of war. It may make you worry about Thomas even more than you do.”

“As long as I still receive his letters I’ll be alright, but if something were to happen to him I could help. I want to help them.”

Mrs Hughes nodded her head a little bit and smiled warmly at well.

“Well, if it is what you want to do I see no harm, you are a bright girl, and a quick learner I have no doubt you’ll do incredibly well.”

“Thank you Mrs Hughes.”

You went back to your tasks, and the following days you applied for the college.

The wait was daunting, you hated waiting, but it wasn’t long before you got your response back, and everybody crowded around.

“Will you be leaving us (Y/N)?” Lady Mary asked.

You handed it to Mr Carson, and he nodded, opening it for you before handing it back over for you to read it.

You only had to read the first few sentences and you looked at them all.

“I’m going to be a nurse!”

Everyone cheered and celebrated, they were so proud of you.

“Will you look out for Lady Sybil? I know as a nurse you have no need, but we worry.” Lord Grantham said quietly.

“Of course my lord.”

You went off that week, and afterwards, you found yourself transferred back near Downton.

You weren’t sure why you had been transferred here but you were more than happy to help out here, and the moment you walked through the doors you were greeted by a familiar face.

“Lady Sybil.” You smiled.

“Please, call me Sybil here. I’m so glad to see you here.”

“I’m glad to be here, it’s nice to be working so close to everybody.”

“It is, it is why I asked for you here. Mama and papa told me about you going to become a nurse, and I just knew I had to bring you back.”

“Thank you so much.”

She helped you with everything you needed to know, and as you worked together you both grew closer, instead of being ladies maid and lady, you were almost inseparable now.

You were friends.

You were running to and from nursing soldiers, and you weren’t aware that Thomas was coming home until he finally appeared in front of you.

“Thomas!”

You stopped what you were doing, setting everything doing and running up to him to hug him.

Thomas rolled his eyes, placing his good hand on your back as you hugged him tightly.

“I’ve been so worried about you Thomas, are you okay? Are did you get hurt?”

“Nothing serious.” He said.

You pulled away and furrowed your brows at him, realising that he was there as another patient.

“Thomas?”

“It’s nothing (Y/N), go back to work.”

He walked back over to his bed and sat down, and you furrowed your brows a little bit but when back to what you were doing.

When you had no duties, you tried anything you could spend time with Thomas, trying to talk to him.

You knew it was best to try to get soldiers to talk, get them to open up a little bit but Thomas was having none of it, but another soldier upon seeing you spend time with Thomas wanted your attention as well.

He kept calling you over, requesting you by name and refusing to let anybody else treat his injuries or help him in any way.

You didn’t like him one bit, and with Thomas distancing himself from you, you turned to the only person who would listen to you.

“Can I confined you in something?”

Lady Sybil turned her attention towards you, and she smiled a little, nodding her head.

“Of course you can.”

“There is a solider, he pesters me for my attention, to court me, despite the many attempts I have made to turn him away, I’m unsure as to what to do.”

Lady Sybil frowned, sitting down on the chair in front of you.

“Have you tried to turn his care to somebody else?”

“Nobody else will take him as he refuses care if it is not me.”

She nodded her head a little.

“Have you tried to speak to Thomas about this man?”

“Thomas will not listen, he does not want to spend any time listening to me, he is uninterested.”

“Perhaps we should consider some time away, ask to transfer elsewhere until this soldier is sent home.”

“He will follow along, no matter where I go he is determined he will court me and eventually make me his wife. I am scared my lady.”

Sybil reached over, placing her hand on yours, trying to offer you any comfort that she could.

Little did the pair of you know that Thomas was listening nearby, and he was focusing on the soldier that was approaching you.

“Will you join me for dinner tonight Nurse (Y/N)?” He asked.

“The lady has already made her disinterest very clear.” Lady Sybil warned.

“I never asked for your input so be quiet.” The soldier snapped.

Thomas walked over, standing talk as he stood aside the table you and Lady Sybil were sat at.

“I suggest you leave her alone soldier.”

“You have no authority over me.” He snapped back.

Thomas stormed over, and with a swing of his arm he punched the other soldier in the face, watching as he fell to the floor.

“Leave my sister alone or you will be dealing with me.” He growled.

Thomas held his arm out to you and you took it to stand up, and you helped lady Sybil up as well.

“I will have him gone by the end of the day, go inside.”

“Thomas?” You asked.

“Go.” He barked.

You nodded and scurried inside, and Thomas turned to the soldier on the floor, anger running through his blood.

How dare anyone treat you like that, and speak to lady Sybil in such a tone, he was going to make sure that the solider never forgot his lesson on how to treat a woman.

When he was done, he made his way back inside, lighting a cigarette as he did so and he stood next to you.

“He will not be bothering you again.” He said.

“What did you do?”

Thomas said nothing and you glanced up at him, frowning a little bit, but you stood closer to him.

“Thank you Thomas…”

He just gave a nod of his head, glaring at any soldier who dared to so much as glance in your general direction

#Downton abbey #downton abbey x reader #Downton abbey x you #Downton abbey imagine #Thomas Barrow #Thomas Barrow x reader #Thomas Barrow x you #Thomas Barrow imagine

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sweetcarrotsandroses97 · 1 year ago

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Kingdom Of Truths | KTH | Moodboard + Summay

Pairing: Lord! Kim Taehyung x disabled! Lady! reader (ft. Ot6)

~non idol! an, strangers to lovers! au, downton abbey! au, edwardian era! au

Warnings: fluff, angst, character death, strangers to lovers, depression, unrequited love, oc is in a wheelchair, period typical classism and misogyny, talks of marriage, MISCOMMUNICATION, (more will be added in the future)

Summary: You were Lady (y/n), beautifully caged to a life in a wheelchair since you were a child. It appeared that fate had it against you as tragedies filled your life since the moment you had been born. After inheriting two large fortunes after a horrible accident that left you completely alone in a world full of luxury, you lost all hope at any chance of happiness. It wasn't until a handsome young man entered your life and despite the distance you wish you put between the both of you, he seemed determined to fight for your love and live in a kingdom of truths by your side. Once is fortuity. Twice is coincidence. And three times is fate. "There is nothing more than I want in this life but you, it is you who gives me this will to live, this passion in my soul, this burning in my skin. You have bewitched me with your charms, you have claimed my heart as yours. You are the sun and I am the moon because I am nothing without you while you are everything without me."

A/N Hello everyone! I'm currently on +8k of this fic but there's so much I want to write that I fear it will take me a bit longer to publish. it fully. This is highly inspired on "Downton Abbey" if you haven't seen the series, I highly recommend it!

I just love the Edwardian Era, I'm an old soul and as you might have already noticed, this is a Tae fic also inspired by his portfolio photoshoot. I just love how he looks like a prince or -in this case- a Lord of high society.

I will publish a snippet of the fic a day or two before publishing the whole story, I hope you will like it as I am working so hard on this. If you had gotten up till this part, you are darling. Take care and thanks for reading my rambling!

~Masterlist

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sansaorgana · 8 months ago

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Gale x reader, where she works at the 100 and gale thinks she comes from nothing and a hardwarding woman and he finds that attractive but then finds out she’s really from a rich wealthy family and he kinda feels betrayed in a sense

hello! 😊 thank you for your request, I loved it so much and it made me think of a Downton Abbey inspired scenario (just a little) 🥰 I wanted Buck and The Reader to have a happy ending no matter what, though, so I kinda lost control and wrote almost 6k words of this fic 🙈 long live the drama!!! 👑

requests for buck and feyd are open btw 😇

Out of all the women working at the base, Buck Cleven liked (Y/N) the most. She was a local, British woman helping with the papers in the archives. Most people didn’t know a lot about (Y/N). She was a mystery and rarely talked about herself but Buck loved how eloquently she sounded and how well-read she was.

She was helping him to fill the papers for the Colonel and they quickly befriended each other. There was something about him that made her open up a little. They started to take walks in the evenings around the base and talk about their lives.

“Where are you from?” He asked her. “Somewhere around?”

“Yes,” she nodded and looked away quickly.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Buck assured her. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine,” she shrugged her arms, visibly uneasy. “What do you want to know?”

“Your parents…?” Buck took her hand gently and she smiled, allowing him to hold her fingers like that.

“They’re both alive if that’s what you’re asking. My father is…” she was looking for the right word, “...managing some land. We are not close, though.”

“So, he’s a farmer?” Buck raised an eyebrow.

“I guess you can call him that,” she nodded shyly and bit on her lower lip.

“How do you know how to use a typewriter and all those books you’re talking about?” Buck chuckled softly.

“Oh, so farmer girls can’t be intelligent?” She asked, playfully. “I’ve been working hard to get out,” she assured him.

“I know what it’s like. But I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for a woman. I admire you,” he nodded and leaned in to place a soft kiss upon her lips, taking her breath away.

She was confident, good at her job, intelligent, witty and to him she quickly became the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He would smile any time he saw her walking by and he would call her a farmer girl, to which she’d reply pilot boy. (Y/N) reminded him of his mother. The way she had come from nothing and worked hard to prove her worth, the way she was so soft-spoken, so elegant in the way she moved despite her harsh upbringing. She felt like home to him. Buck Cleven gave her heart and soul. He was already thinking of proposing to her after finishing his twenty fifth mission. He didn’t want to ask her anything of that sort too early. He didn’t want to ask her to marry him and then die. No, he had to wait.

But other things did not wait. He was a gentleman and she was a proper lady but since he could go down any day, they just allowed the heated moment to take them one of the nights in her small office next to the Colonel’s one. It didn’t feel wrong at all. It was no sin to love and be loved. Buck could already imagine them growing old together and raising their children. He would take her home with him or he would stay in the United Kingdom. For her he would.

And then, a week after giving each other a physical proof of their love, an expensive looking black Rolls-Royce parked in front of the base. Buck was there, too, talking to Harry Crosby, as they both observed an elegant driver leaving the car and looking around, visibly lost.

“Excuse me,” the man approached them. “I’m looking for Lady (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” he explained. “I do believe she happens to work here.”

“You’re looking for (Y/N)?” Harry furrowed his brows and scratched behind his head. “I’ll go for her,” he nodded and went inside the building.

Buck was left alone with the stiff and elegant driver.

“How do you know (Y/N)?” He asked him and the man blushed uncomfortably.

“I’ve been working for Lady (Y/L/N)’s family for ten years now,” the man answered.

Buck was confused. He had no idea that farmers in the United Kingdom could afford their own limousines and drivers.

“Tommy!” (Y/N) ran out of the building and the man straightened himself at the sight of her. “What are you doing here?!” She snapped at him angrily as everyone around started to watch the scene curiously. Buck had never seen her snapping at someone for no reason this way.

She would get angry when someone was lazy with filling the papers but even then her annoyance had some smooth and elegant undertone. But the way she treated the driver was signalising a different sort of dynamic between them two. He cleared his throat and looked down like a child scolded by his mother.

“Lady (Y/L/N), do forgive me… but I bring urgent news from Rosefield Hall,” the driver told her and handed her a letter from the inside pocket of his jacket. “It is about the Earl of Peterborough’s health,” he added.

(Y/N) grabbed the letter and opened it nervously. She gasped as she read it and her hands began to shake.

“I must… I must go home…” She whispered and handed the letter back to the driver before running to the building where the sleeping quarters for women were.

Buck followed her, demanding answers, as his heart was already stinging in his chest. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to know some of these things but he had to.

“What is going on, (Y/N)?” He asked as she was packing her things chaotically into a suitcase.

��My grandfather is dying, I must see him,” she explained nervously.

Her grandfather…? The only man whose health had been mentioned was some Earl of Peterborough.

“I am sorry to hear that,” Buck took a deep breath in. “But what’s going on with that driver? The Rolls-Royce? Rosefield Hall? Why is that man calling you a Lady? Who's the Earl of Peterborough?”

(Y/N) froze for a second with one of her blouses in her hands as she was about to throw it carelessly into the suitcase. She looked up into his eyes and Buck Cleven did not recognise his girl at that moment.

There was something different about her. Something cold and unreachable. Something posh. Her glance could kill and he would rather face the Luftwaffe missiles than her eyes.

“The Earl of Peterborough is my grandfather. Rosefield Hall is my home. I’m Lady (Y/N) (Y/L/N) of Rosefield Hall,” she informed him and he took a step back, furrowing his brows. “What? You’re really surprised, Major? Did you really expect a farmer girl to know Kant or quote you Charlotte Brontë? I’m rather surprised that you know them,” she pointed out.

Buck didn’t say anything at first as his mouth opened slightly and blood in his veins ran cold.

“So, you lied,” he whispered, feeling his heart shattering into a million pieces.

“No. I have never called myself a farmer girl. You’ve been calling me that,” she shrugged her arms.

“I don’t understand…” He shook his head. “Why couldn’t you just tell the truth?”

“Because I didn’t want to be treated differently,” she threw the blouse inside the suitcase angrily and went back to grabbing other things. “I didn’t want to be teased by a bunch of Americans for being a Lady. I wanted to blend in.”

That part was understandable for Buck and it was making him feel better, too, to know that she didn’t want to use her titles for getting special treatment.

“But why did you lie to me when we were alone? I wouldn’t tell anyone…” His voice shivered and he hated himself for letting her see how weak he had become for her. He hadn’t minded showing emotions in front of her before but now it suddenly started to feel too exposing and too humiliating.

“I didn’t lie because I was scared you would tell. I know you would not, Buck,” she shook her head and looked into his eyes again, attacking him with one final blow of the coldness of her gaze. “I gave you what you wanted, Cleven. You wanted me to be a determined working class little mouse that you’d offer a better life one day. And I lied because…” She hesitated as she bit on her lower lip. “Because I wanted you to like me,” she admitted casually and closed the suitcase.

Buck was petrified as he watched her. She lifted up the suitcase and that was when he hurried to her side.

“Let me help you, Lady (Y/N),” he tried to make a joke to release the tension, still too shocked to process the situation properly.

“You don’t have to call me a Lady, Buck,” she informed him. “And the suitcase is light.”

“Don’t have to?” Buck stood still as he watched her walk out the door. “Well, thank you very much for being so merciful and allowing me to ditch the title while I’m addressing you,” he clenched his jaw. She furrowed her brows at him.

“Oh, Buck, that’s exactly why I was lying, can’t you see? But I wasn’t lying about everything, I can assure you of that. It wasn’t a bored rich girl’s game. I will contact you soon, I promise,” she gave him the last, beautiful smile and walked out of the room.

Buck kept watching through the window. The people from the base were gathered around, pointing fingers at her. She approached the Colonel and explained some things to him as he nodded. He had to be the only person who knew her secret. The driver put the suitcase in the Rolls-Royce’s trunk and opened the door for her. She looked around, probably searching for Buck’s face amongst the curious crowd but he wasn’t there. So she sat inside and they drove away.

Buck didn’t know if she had tried to contact him or not like she had promised because he went down a week later.

One and a half year later he was back and everything felt so odd and out of place when he was going through his old things. One of them was a black and white picture of (Y/N). He took it in his hands and caressed it gently.

After everything he had been through in Germany, he was a different person now. He forgave her as he didn’t want to hold any resentment in his heart. And the memory of her – even if it hadn’t been the real her – had been keeping him alive on the cold and scary nights. A tiny hope to perhaps be able to see her again and explain a few things.

“You’re still thinking of her?” Rosie asked, awkwardly and Buck nodded.

“Sometimes,” he lied. It was way more often than sometimes.

“Actually, she did send you a letter,” Harry told him. “I have it in my office, unopened. It came two weeks after you had gone down. I wrote to her that you had been captured by the Germans when we found out but I never got the reply. Do you want her letter?”

“Yes,” Buck nodded. “You could send it to the camp through the Red Cross.”

“I could have but there was no guarantee you’d get it. They’d most likely lose it,” Harry told him and left the room to go to his office.

“Did she ever come back here?” Buck asked Rosie and his friend shook his head while pursing his lips.

“No, I’m sorry.”

Buck nodded, waiting in silence for Harry to be back with the letter. Thankfully, he was quick.

“Here it is,” he handed Buck the envelope and sat back on the edge of the bed.

The envelope was elegant and there was a picture of the family crest on it. Buck felt uncomfortable opening it but on the other hand, such a long time had passed that whatever was inside, was most likely no longer accurate anyway. The past couldn’t hurt him because it was unchangeable now.

Dear Gale, my pilot boy, My grandfather passed away two weeks ago. I was close with him, therefore it is a great loss for me to grieve after. I know I have promised to contact you and possibly explain everything but there is an urgent matter I have to discuss with you first. I fainted in the church during the funeral. It was not a big deal and I did not make any fuss about it but my doctor insisted on taking blood tests to make sure I was okay. Yesterday I had an appointment with him and he told me I was expecting. You can only imagine what a shock that was for me. He promised me he would not inform my father for now, until I contact you. But he is my father’s close friend and I do not trust him. You see, I was not lying when I said I was not close with my father. I know he will not be pleased with my pregnancy. I am scared. Can you please come to visit me? My parents were opposed to the idea of me working for the military so they will not allow me to leave again, especially in the time of grieving. My darling, there is not a day going by without me missing you and regretting the way I treated you. The things I said, I wish with all my heart that I could take them back. I kept lying to you for so long but please, do know, I have never lied when I said “I love you”. I do not expect anything from you – I do not even expect you to take responsibility for this child. And I know it is a complicated situation since we are from very different families and different countries but please, I need you to come here as I have to discuss this matter with you face to face. Yours, forever yours and only yours, (Y/N)

When he finished reading the letter, his hands were uncontrollably shaking. He checked the date of the letter – 20th of October 1943. It was the summer of 1945 already and he had left her with no reply all this time.

If the child had been born in the meantime, they would be one year old by now.

Buck stood up so rapidly that he got dizzy for a moment.

“What happened?” Rosie looked up, worryingly.

“I need to… I need to borrow a car,” Buck told him. “I have to go to that Rosefield Hall. Immediately,” he explained.

“But why?”

“I… I can’t… I will tell you when I’m back,” it felt difficult to say all these things out loud. He was anxious about what had happened to (Y/N) and their child and he was in a state of shock after finding out about the child in general. The way she had apologised and assured him of her love had also brought him a deep comfort and relief. He had to see her and he could only hope it wouldn’t be too late.

Harry nodded, realising that it was something important and he respected his friend’s decision not to share the details yet. He ran out of the building to talk to the Colonel about the possibility of using one of the military cars from the base.

Ten minutes later, Buck was already behind the wheel, studying the map on his lap with Rosie leaning on the car and peeking inside through the window.

“Rosefield Hall, here it is,” he found it and pointed with his finger. “About an hour away from here.”

“I can make it in 40 minutes,” Buck said.

“Man, be careful. 20 minutes won’t save you after such a long time,” Rosie furrowed his brows. He didn’t like the state his friend was in. “Listen, I’ll go with you,” he proposed. “You’re out of your mind.”

Buck tried to protest but he gave up seeing Rosie already sitting on the passenger seat. He sighed and started the engine. On their way to Rosefield Hall, he opened up to his friend and told him about everything. Rosie’s eyes were widened throughout the whole ride.

“It’s like straight out of the movies,” Rosie commented.

“Thank you very much for cinematography of this sort,” Buck shook his head.

“Man, what are you even worried about? I mean, she’s some rich lady, what could have happened?” Rosie asked.

“What if she got rid of the baby? What if she’s married now? What if she died? Or the baby died? And I missed all of this?” Buck swallowed thickly.

“None of it would be your fault,” Rosie pointed out and then he gasped at the field they were approaching. “Look! Aren’t those roses?”

“Yes, they are. It’s a rose field,” Buck nodded. “Which means the house must be nearby.”

“You call that a house?” Rosie whistled at the sight of the mansion in the distance. “It’s a fucking palace.”

Buck didn’t say anything. Seeing a place where (Y/N) had been raised made him feel uncomfortable when he compared it in his head to his home back in the USA. He felt like a beggar on the street, knocking to get the first warm meal in a week when he parked the car on the driveway with a small fountain.

“Wait in the car,” he told Rosie and jumped out of the vehicle.

He was approaching the doors when they opened on their own and a grumpy butler walked out with a surprised face.

“Excuse me, sir, are you lost?” He asked.

“Is it Rosefield Hall?” Buck asked to make sure.

“Yes, indeed it is,” the butler looked him up and down.

“I need to see (Y/N),” Buck explained nervously and the man furrowed his brow. “I mean, Lady (Y/N)...”

“Who are you, sir?” The butler remained suspicious.

“Major Gale Cleven from The 100th Bomb Group,” Buck took the cap of his uniform off and squeezed it in his hands.

“Cleven… Cleven… Oh!” The butler’s eyes widened. “Come inside, Major,” he finally invited Buck inside the mansion. “You are lucky, Major, because the Earl is in London today and only the lady of the house is present. Please, do follow me, I will inform her,” the butler nodded at Buck and led him through the beautifully decorated corridors to one of the living rooms. “Please, wait here, Major,” the butler bowed his head down and left Buck alone inside.

Buck looked around nervously. The place looked like a movie set indeed. Perhaps there was some truth to Rosie’s words. He glanced at the framed pictures on the piano and the fireplace but none of the pictures was of his (Y/N).

The doors opened again and a dignified middle aged woman walked inside as the butler announced her.

“Countess of Peterborough.”

Buck bowed his head down, not knowing what to do. She laughed softly at that and approached him to grab his arms.

“Please, tell me you’re that American Major who got my girl in trouble,” she pleaded but there was no anger in her eyes, only hope.

“I believe I am, my lady,” Buck swallowed thickly. “Where is she? Can I see her?”

The Countess smiled sadly at him and pointed at one of the sofas. They both sat there and faced each other as if they were whispering big secrets between each other.

“What took you so long?” The Countess asked with pain in her voice.

“I was a captive in Germany for over a year. I’m back in the United Kingdom for a few hours, really,” he explained nervously. He had a very bad feeling about his (Y/N). The way her mother was so sad while talking about her, the way there were no pictures of her around… “Please, tell me she married someone else,” he mumbled out and The Countess furrowed her brows. “Just don’t tell me she’s… She’s dead.”

“Not dead, no,” The Countess explained and he sighed with relief. “My husband was furious when he found out about her pregnancy. She refused to get rid of your child, she claimed that she loved you,” The Countess broke yet another sad smile and Buck’s heart started to pound in his chest. “I tried to change his mind but my husband is a… stubborn man…” She swallowed thickly and looked down, uncomfortably. “He disinherited her and threw her out. I sometimes visit her, I’m trying to keep in touch and help her financially in secret… Oh, Major, please…” She looked up again into his widened and terrified eyes as she tugged on the sleeves of his uniform. “Please, get her out of that place and help her. You have a son, a baby boy. He’s a year old now and such a beautiful child. They both deserve so much better. She’s there because she chose you, she loves you… Please, help her,” The Countess sobbed.

“Excuse me, my lady… She is… where?” Buck asked, nervously.

“Convent Home for Unmarried Mothers,” The Countess explained. “Oh, Major, it is a dreadful place! My girl is slowly dying there, it’s so painful to watch. There is absolutely no joy and fighting spirit left in her anymore.”

Buck felt a stinging pain in his heart when he remembered his (Y/N) with her red lips and a wide smile, her sparkling eyes and her neatly combed hair. He couldn’t imagine her in a place like this.

“How could you let that happen?” He asked her mother, not holding back the anger of his voice.

“It works differently for people like us,” The Countess explained. “In many ways we are still in the XIXth century,” she added. “But I’m so glad you’re here, it gives me hope… Please, tell me you are here to take the responsibility.”

“Of course,” Buck straightened himself. He was a man of honour. “Just give me the address of that convent,” he told her and she smiled through the tears and stood up to grab a piece of paper and a pen to write down the address.

“By the way,” The Countess sniffled her tears back, “when you’ll be asking for her, don’t ask for (Y/N) (Y/L/N). My husband forbade her to go there under her real surname so she had to choose a new one for herself.”

“And what is it?” Buck stood up to get the papernote from her.

“What do you think?” The Countess smiled at him softly. He had a feeling but didn’t want to make an idiot out of himself by saying it out loud so he remained silent and allowed her to answer the question on her own. “She goes by (Y/N) Cleven there,” she explained. “That’s how I knew it had to be you when the butler told me who was waiting for me downstairs. Because (Y/N) has never told me anything. She kept you as a secret in her heart. She was always a stubborn girl, a family rebel of some sort. So desperately she wanted to get out of here, to be away from her father – for which I can’t blame her, he’s a difficult man – that’s why she signed up to help in the military,” her mother explained. “I know, though, what she has told me. That there were misunderstandings between you two, some sort of argument and she regretted deeply for the way she had treated you. Please, do forgive her. She loves you so deeply, like I’ve never seen any woman of our sort to ever love a man. A rebel, as I’ve said.”

Buck’s head was spinning. He was glad for Rosie waiting inside the car because he wouldn’t be able to drive anymore. He only nodded at The Countess and hurried outside, not even waiting for the butler to open any doors for him.

He knocked upon the window and showed Rosie with his hand to get out of the car.

“What’s going on?” Rosie asked and Buck handed him the paper note with the address.

“Take me there. I can’t drive,” Buck looked down at his shaking hands. Rosie only nodded and they switched the seats.

The convent was another hour away. This time they were both sitting in the car in complete silence.

“Do you think I can just take her like that?” Buck finally asked when they were getting near. The sun was slowly setting in the sky with a beautiful orange hue.

“It’s XXth century, Buck, I’m sure she can just walk out of there any time she wants,” Rosie tried to cheer him up. “But where will you take her? Do you think the Colonel will let her stay with us at the base?”

“I will worry about that later,” Buck told him. “I want to get her out there first,” he explained and placed his hand on his chest as if this gesture would calm down his pounding heart when Rosie parked the car in front of the convent home. It looked like a scary and unpleasant place from the outside.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Rosie asked, worryingly.

“No. Wait here,” Buck nodded at him and walked out to hurry inside the building.

“Excuse me, sir, we are closed. You can come back tomorrow after nine am,” the nun sitting by the desk in the reception room told him.

“With all respect, I won’t wait until tomorrow,” Buck approached her and she looked up, scared. “I don’t want trouble,” he explained quickly. “I’m a pilot from The 100th Bomb Group in Thorpe Abbott, Norfolk,” he introduced himself and she nodded her head. “For the past year and a half I’ve been a captive in Germany,” he added and her eyes saddened. “I came back today only to find out that my child and his mother are here. Please, I want to see them.”

“Well, I think we can make an exception for you, sir,” the nun had lots of sympathy in her voice. “Let me ask the Reverend Mother,” she stood up and Buck nodded. “Please, wait here.”

So he waited, nervously squeezing his cap in his hands and looking around at the religious images on the walls. Finally, the doors opened and an elderly woman entered. She looked less nice than the previous one.

“Sister Cecila has told me your story, Major. I am willing to make an exception because of your bravery and service, sir,” she said and Buck sighed out of relief, giving her a nervous smile. “What is your name, Major?”

“Gale Cleven, sister,” he answered and she furrowed her brows.

“Ah…” She hummed to herself. “I know who you want to see then… Follow me,” she ordered and he nodded before walking out of the room after her.

She led him through a maze of cold corridors into the staircase and then upstairs to the living quarters. They were in a renovated part of the building but it was not very pleasant either. Buck felt a chill go down his spine at the sight and when he imagined (Y/N) and their son in a place like that.

“She was sent here by her father with no savings at all. Her mother sometimes sends us money for new clothes and toys but Miss (Y/N) is not interested in getting anything for herself anyway,” the nun explained. “She only cares about her son. She named him Winston.”

“It’s my middle name,” Buck told her as his heart filled with so much love for his son already at the sound of his name.

“I see,” the woman nodded her head and stopped in front of one of the doors as she searched for the right key on her keychain.

“Why is she being locked up?” Buck furrowed his brows and the nun gave him a scolding look.

“Do you think we let those harlots run around freely at night so they come back pregnant with even more mouths to feed?” She asked, accusingly.

Buck’s jaw clenched, trying very hard not to react in any way to her awful words.

She opened the door and then she pushed them open aggressively without knocking first. Buck’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of a small and neat room that was almost not decorated at all. (Y/N) was sitting on her bed with a little boy in her arms and reading a book to him, her finger was pointing at something on one of the pages but they both got startled by the nun entering the room rapidly.

“You have a guest, Cleven,” the nun told her coldly and stepped back for Buck to walk in awkwardly.

(Y/N) gasped at the sight of him as she dropped the book down on the bed. Her little boy, unaware of anything, reached out his little hands to grab the edges of it as he giggled.

“G-Gale…” (Y/N) left the boy on the bed and ran up to Buck.

He felt tears forming in his eyes at the sight of her. She looked like a shadow of her old self. But it was still her. His (Y/N) that he had been dreaming of for all these months in Germany.

“I thought I would never see you again… I got the letter from Harry, that you were a captive. But I didn’t expect you to come back for me…” She sobbed.

“I came back this morning and have been looking for you ever since,” he put his hands on her arms to calm her down. “Here, come to me,” he pulled her to his chest to hug her and she twisted the fabric of his uniform in her fist as she hid her face in it. The nun squinted her eyes at them. “Can you leave us alone, sister?” Buck asked her.

“It is out of the question!” She protested.

“I’m taking (Y/N) and our son away from here tonight anyway. Get out,” Buck snapped and she made an offended face before walking out.

“You… You really mean that?” (Y/N) looked up and Buck caressed her wet cheeks. Her eyes were so hollow now, her lips dry and shivering. “After everything I have done to you…? You still want me?”

“I have forgotten already,” Buck smiled sadly at her. “I only remember how much I love you.”

(Y/N) sobbed once again and threw her hands around his neck.

“I will take care of you,” Buck promised and rubbed her back. He laid his eyes on his son who was sitting on his mother’s bed and playing with the book in his tiny hands but he was curiously looking up as well. “Will you introduce us?” He asked, nervously and (Y/N) took a step back and nodded, wiping her cheeks with the palms of her hands.

“Winston, baby, come to mummy,” she picked the boy up and he whined as he dropped the book. “Look, this is your daddy,” she approached Buck again as the boy widened his eyes. She kissed her son’s temple and handed the boy to Buck.

He held his son delicately and stared back into his eyes, feeling so much love and affection filling his heart that he was sure it would burst and explode any given moment. Little boy reached his hands out and caressed the scars on his father’s face. Buck felt the fresh tears streaming down his face.

“He’s so full of kindness,” (Y/N) explained in a whisper. “Just like you.”

“Pack your things, I want you out of here as soon as possible,” Buck told her and she nodded.

He kept staring in awe at his boy and allowed his little hands to caress his face curiously, giggling occasionally. In the meantime, (Y/N) was packing an old worn-out suitcase. Buck noticed that she was mostly packing Winston’s things and not her own. It made him sad to see her in such a state but it also filled his heart with even more love for her when he realised how much she loved their boy and how much she sacrificed for him. For all of that, he would now give her everything and she didn’t have to worry about anything anymore.

When she packed the suitcase, she nodded at him and they both walked out of the room where the angry nun had been still standing.

“So, you’re just going to walk out like that? In the middle of the night?” She asked (Y/N).

“I’m not a prisoner here, Sister Bertha,” (Y/N) reminded her. “And it’s barely eight pm.”

“And where will you even go?” The nun followed them nervously to the staircase.

“As far away from here as I can,” (Y/N) only told her and shrugged her arms.

The nun didn’t follow them downstairs. Buck and (Y/N) left the convent after saying goodnight to Sister Cecile sitting in the reception room. At the sight of them, Rosie jumped out of the car with a wide smile.

“Rosie!” (Y/N) ran up to him and hugged him.

“(Y/N)!” He picked her up to spin her around as she dropped her suitcase. “I’m so happy to see you again, we’ve all been wondering about you!” He put her down on the ground and he laid his eyes on the little boy in Buck’s arms. “And that must be your boy?”

“His name is Winston,” Buck told him with pride and Rosie winked at the baby boy who giggled in return.

“Let’s go back now, eh?” Buck told him and Rosie nodded. He picked the suitcase up and packed it inside the trunk.

Buck and (Y/N) both took the backseats with little Winston sitting on Buck’s lap. Their pinky fingers were touching delicately on the seat.

“I have only one question,” Buck looked at her softly when the boy fell asleep in his arms.

“Yes?” She turned her head around to look at him, too.

“Why didn’t you get out of there to find a job somewhere? You can use a typewriter and you’re well-read.”

“I didn’t have savings to get out like this. I was bringing this idea up to my mother but if she gave me more money, my father would realise. He is very controlling. I didn’t want her to be exposed to his anger because of me. And I… I just gave up, to be honest. My life didn’t seem to have any prospects anyway,” she admitted sadly. “There was no future for me.”

“There is a future for you,” Buck assured her and held her hand to squeeze it lightly. “Long and bright. I will give it to you.”

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

#sansaorgana: Answered #lovely anons #*buck #lilysfiction #gale cleven x reader #austin butler x reader

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importantgalaxyrunaway · 2 years ago

Text

I TAKE REQUESTS!!!!!!!!

please request a prompt in my ask and I will write it! I love getting asks! I mainly write for she/her but will do any gender on request. this is who I write for

—— X Y/N

Colby Brock -Sam and Colby

Tom Branson - Downton abbey

caspian - narnia

Steve Harrington -stranger things

Eddie Munson- stranger things

Aragorn-Lotr

gram- ouat

Robin Hood- ouat

roy mustang-fmab

finnick odair - hunger games

CHARACTER X CHARACTER

Riza Hawkeye x roy mustang - fmab

belle x rumpstilskin - ouat

robin x regina

I am currently working also on an original story created by me and might post that on here. Its about a girl who goes to an asylum in the 1800s and other supernatural stuff happens. I WOULD LOVE for you to send me an ask. I write fluff smut (but most of the time a cut away eventually) and angst

#ouat #fmab fanfiction #colby brock fanfic #stranger things #dowton abbey #ask me questions #give me requests #my wrtitng #hunger games #finnick x y/n

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wild-lavender-rose · 3 years ago

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I’ve Got You (part 3)

Part 1, Part 2

Pairing: Thomas Barrow x fem!reader

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Summary: After revealing the reason behind why you married Thomas, you expect him to be angry. Instead, he cares for you as your condition worsens.

Warning: Description of severe fatigue

“Help her, doctor.”

“I’m doing everything I can, Mr. Barrow.” A hand pressed against your neck, feeling for your pulse. “A sedative would allow her to get the rest she needs, however it would be most beneficial if she slept naturally.”

“She’s always screaming from the nightmares.” Thomas’s voice broke.

“Sedatives won’t stop the nightmares, she simply won’t wake up from them.”

“Thomas,” you opened your eyes, blinking against the afternoon sunlight.

“I’m here, darling. I’m here,” the bed dipped as Thomas sat beside you and held your hand. “You’re all right.”

“I gave you something to help with the pain.” Dr. Clarkson’s voice was especially soft. “But as I was telling your husband, the thing you need most is sleep.”

“No, I can’t. I won’t,” you gripped the sheets under you, finding them wet with sweat.

“Can’t you do something?” Thomas sounded desperate. “Please.”

“The human mind is a tricky thing. The best thing you can do right now is comfort her every time she wakes.” Dr. Clarkson rose. “It may help if she is able to talk through her nightmares as well.”

You pressed a hand over your face as tears of embarrassment stung your eyes. Why was this happening? Why was the doctor and Thomas in your room? If you had just been strong enough, then there would have been no need for a fuss. You were such an idiot.

“I’m here, darling.” Thomas’s voice drew you back to reality.

You moved your hand to see that Clarkson was gone and Thomas had taken his place. He was in his shirt sleeves, his muscular arms exposed up to his elbows. You reached out and touched his soft, warm skin, grounding yourself in his presence. “I’m sorry,” you breathed.

“Stop apologizing,” Thomas reached out and brushed a hand through your hair. “Just get better and we’ll call it even, alright?”

“Yes sir.” A ghost of a smile tainted your lips for a moment before fading. “I don’t want to sleep.”

“How can I help?” Thomas pressed a hand over yours. “I want to...I want to make it better.”

“Stay with me?” Your voice trembled at the request. “I know...I know it’s not real, but can I please pretend? Please, Thomas?”

“Sweetheart, you don’t understand.” He shifted closer and gripped your hand tighter. “I do love you.”

You stared at him. “What?”

“I love you with all that I am. With everything that I can...But I can’t love you as a husband, not a true one.” Thomas’s eyes filled with tears. “I wish I was different. I wish what was wrong with me could be fixed,”

“Stop it, stop it right now,” you released his hand and struggled to sit up, your forehead bumping against his. “There is nothing wrong with you. I swear it. There are,” you looked down, unable to continue while looking into his eyes. “There are different kinds of love, darling. What you have, and what I have isn’t wrong...It’s just different.”

The air was quiet and warm between the two of you. Thomas leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours as the pair of you looked down at your hands. “Are you happy?” He whispered.

“Yes, selfishly happy.”

“No,” Thomas pulled back and reached up to cup your face with both hands, coaxing your gaze to meet his. “Marrying me was the kindest thing you’ve ever done. You protect me every single day with my ring on your finger. You knew that I could never be a true husband, and you married me anyway. That’s not selfish, sweetheart. That’s everything.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, matching the one sliding down his. You smiled as Thomas pressed a kiss on your forehead, allowing him to guide your head back to the pillow. “Rest.”

You found his hand once more. “Stay.”

“Of course,” Thomas wiped his eyes and smiled back. “For as long as you need.”

Fanfic Masterlist

#downton abbey #downton abbey fanfiction #Downton Abbey Series #downton abbey fandom #downton abbey thomas barrow #thomas barrow #thomas barrow x reader #thomas barrow fluff #thomas barrow x you #thomas barrow x y/n

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incorrect-jshkxreader · 4 years ago

Conversation

(Y/N): How you hate to be wrong.

Sakura: I wouldn't know, I'm not familiar with the sensation.

#source: downton abbey #jshk #tbhk #jibaku shounen hanako kun #toliet bound hanako kun #sakura #sakura nanamine #x y/n #y/n #incorrect quotes #x reader incorrect quotes #tbhk incorrect quotes #jshk incorrect quotes #jibaku shounen hanako kun incorrect quotes #toliet bound hanako kun incorrect quotes

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buckleyx · 4 years ago

Text

EARRING M.C

Author’s note: Sorry for any mistakes, english isn't my native language.

Summary: You lose one of Lady Edith’s earrings, luckily Matthew doesn't mind helping you.

Warnings: Fluff

masterlist

—————————

"There gonna kill me." You sighed, searching for the lost earring.

"Who's gonna kill you?" Matthew asked curious, poking his head from behind the paper. You mentally cursed yourself for thinking out loud. "I dropped Lady Edith's earring." Your voice sounded defeated, knowing how much this earring means to here.

"I'll help you find it." Matthew stated. Jumping up, he puts his paper down and walks over to you. He bends down, looking at the dark carpet underneath him. "Thank you." You smiled, bending over to help him.

You were quite surprised. Never did a person from the upstairs asked to help you, let say even notice you. But Matthew has always been very kind, every time you would cross each other in the hall he would give you the sweetest smile. Making a small talk about the day and then leaving you with a thousand butterflies.

"Here it is." He said proudly. Giving you the earring his hand brushed against yours, Matthews gaze meeting yours. You notice the slight blush on his cheeks. His ocean blue eyes lost in yours. "Can I kiss you now?"

You nodded, unable to speak, thousand of butterflies dancing in your stomach. He cupped your face, smiling softly with eyes full of adoration. The tip of your nose brushed against his, making the blondes heart swoon.

His lips ghosted over yours. A lovestruck smile plastered on your face as his lips finally touched yours.

My requests are open! :)

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daaydreamy · 2 years ago

Note

Make innocent subrry a thing and please write a one shot about the titty thing you wrote :)

fantasy

summary: harry loves y/n’s tits.

warnings: coarse language, smut, titty-fucking

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader

•••

Harry loved Y/N’s tits.

He liked to kiss them, lick them, suck them, hold them, rest his head on them, he liked to do a lot of things with her tits. Like after a long day, he would plop down onto bed and scoot close to Y/N, moving close enough so he could rest his head on her breasts, while she stroked his hair. Sometimes he’d just hold them, for absolutely no other reason than to just feel them in his hands.

So sure, he may have had an obsession with her tits.

But he always had this fantasy of fucking her tits. Sometimes while pleasuring himself while Y/N wasn’t there with him, he would picture himself fucking her tits. He’d picture her squeezing them together, looking up at him with a smile on her face. He’d picture coming all over them, smearing it across her skin before making her lick it off her fingers or even lick it off himself.

He was always kind of nervous to bring it up to her, though. He had always been sort of shy about things like this, so she had no idea that he wanted to do that.

But god did he want to.

So right now, Harry was cuddling with Y/N on the couch, watching Downton Abbey on the TV. They had a blanket over them and Harry was lying on top of Y/N, his head, like always, resting on her breasts. Her fingers were running through his soft curls as she watched the scenes playing on the screen in front of her quietly, enjoying the warmth that radiated from Harry’s body.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Can I fuck your tits?”

Y/N furrowed her brows and paused the show, looking down at Harry.

“What?”

“Can I fuck your tits?” He moved his head so he was looking up at her, “Please?” He added on, giving her a small smile.

“Like, right now?”

“Yeah?”

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him which made him laugh, getting up a bit and resting his weight on his forearms so he was hovering above her. He was still smiling, his dimples creating small craters in his soft cheeks.

“No, seriously, right now?” She asked genuinely, cocking her head to the side a bit. She laughed before placing a hand on his cheek, pulling his face down a bit to press her lips to his in a tender kiss. Their eyes closed as they slowly started to make out with each other, giggling and moaning softly ever so often.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” She mumbled against his lips.

•••

Harry scrambled to get his pants off and thankfully he was only wearing a pair of sweatpants with no boxers underneath. He was already half-hard, his cheeks growing warm as he looked down at himself. He looked in front of him and saw Y/N down on her knees, taking her shirt off. She hadn’t worn a bra, so Harry’s eyes were immediately met with Y/N’s soft tits.

“Y’gonna fuck my tits?” She chuckled softly. She leaned in a bit closer and gathered spit in her mouth, letting it drip from her lips so it would fall to Harry’s tip. Her eyes stayed on him the entire time and there was a cheeky smile on her face. She brought a hand up and spread the spit across his tip, making him whimper, before wrapping her fingers around him. She started off with slow strokes, listening to Harry’s soft moans and gasps.

“Please.” Harry said softly and Y/N hummed.

“Be patient.”

So then she teased him for a little while, leaning in to lick over his tip a couple of times to taste him on her tongue. Harry was aching at this point, starting to get needy and desperate for what he wanted.

“Y/N.” He groaned softly and Y/N decided to stop teasing at this point, sitting up a bit straighter. She looked up at Harry, her lips tugged up at the corners a tiny bit, and let him slide his cock into the space in between her breasts. She let out a soft moan at that and so did he, taking his lower lip into his mouth as he took in the filthy sight. She pushed her tits together and Harry eventually started thrusting up into her tits, whimpering softly from the stimulation.

He forced himself to keep his eyes open the entire time to admire the obscenity of the sight in front of him, watching his cock slide in and out from between your tits. His hands were clenched into fists by his sides and his movements were starting to get quicker, as if he needed to come at this point.

Y/N sometimes stuck her tongue out to lick his tip whenever he thrusted up, tasting his precum on her tongue. It would make Harry whine and it was like a sweet melody to Y/N’s ears.

“You’re so pretty, baby.” Y/N murmured and Harry gave in, tilting his head back while moaning.

“I’m- I’m gonna come.” Harry warned, gulping dryly. He opened his eyes again to watch, his eyes unable to tear away from her breasts. He let out a string of whimpers and profanities when he eventually came, making a mess all over her skin. His chest rose and fell with every heavy pant that left his lips, sighing softly when he pulled away.

“Look, you’ve made such a mess.” Y/N had a faux pout on her face and Harry bit the inside of his cheek.

“Wanna clean it up for me?”

🏷: @them-fucking-crows, @pasoorigf, @planetflos, @harrycanyonmoonn, @bxtchboy69, @cece5 (couldn’t tag you!), @graciefostrr, @Intwithharry (couldn’t tag you!), @lyricalniall, @venusincleo (couldn’t tag you!), @bxbun11 (couldn’t tag you!), @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @ambrosia-bloom, @estrellarimar, @goldenhrry, @cinnamongirlrry, @manifestrry, @drewandanyasfirstborn (couldn’t tag you!)

#💌┊anonymous #sub!harry #subrry #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x you #sub!harry x dom!reader #sub!harry x soft dom!reader #dom!reader #dom!y/n #soft dom!reader #soft dom!y/n #writing

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panic-in-the-multiverse · 2 years ago

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The New Worker [part one]

Pairings: Thomas Barrow x platonic!teen!reader

Imagine: Thomas Barrow has a soft spot for the new worker

Warnings: angst, fluff, none else I believe

A/N Writing Thomas Barrow fics instead of actual request 🤝 Me

so I have no clue if it’s bad or not but I always liked Thomas from the beginning, my father think it’s only bc he’s gay, but it’s not, sure obviously I like that they have a gay character in Downton Abbey but it’s not the reason for why I like him

Oh and btw I have no clue how old you must be to be a maid/footman so I just go with that you can be a teenager for the fics sake. Anyway I hope you all will enjoy this as it’s my first time writing for Downton Abbey

NOT PROOFREAD yet I was just too excited to post it. Sorry :) And sorry if the characters are a bit wrong I’m trying to get the right way to write them the next ones will be better

[Next Part] [Masterlist)

Thomas had no clue who you were but as soon as he saw you he knew you’d be the death of him. The way you radiated kindness without doing anything but to stand still said something about you.

You had walked into the servants hall with a nervous and anxious smile stuck on your face. He had waited for you to say something. Anything really. But nothing came out of your mouth except for a small hello which your voice decided to crack in the middle of, so it came out in a way similar to a stutter. Thomas guessed you were a very shy and anxious person. So instead he decided to take some steps forward as he said hello and asked who you were. For some reason his mean demeanor had dropped and he made himself sound as nice as he could without making it like those baby voices you make to babies.

You had glanced up to actually look at his face and he had a smile plastered on it which was far more confident than yours. And as he was the first friendly face you saw — Carson having previously let you in while he dealt with something else (he had a rather angry look on his face) — you decided to speak up as good as you could. You weren’t much for talking, being a nervous and anxious wreck at the moment. But you tried to speak without any cracks or wavering to your voice.

“I’m Y/N L/N… the new maid/footman” Your voice might not have wavered or cracked but you did pause for a rather long second before you said the last part. Thomas noticed but didn’t comment. He had heard that there would be a new maid/footman but he didn’t know that you would be this young. You couldn’t be older than nineteen but you looked younger than that, maybe around sixteen to eighteen. He didn’t quite know how you managed to get a job that high in the ranking at such an age but it was an accomplishment that’s for sure. So he voiced his thoughts.

“You seem awfully young to have gotten such a job” his voice had reverted slightly to his usual one but you didn’t seem to notice at least you didn’t comment on it, the way that he didn’t comment on your shy stutters.

“Well I-“ you got cut of by the booming voice of Mr. Carson who was done with the matter he had previously had to deal with. Now it seemed like he could deal with you and let you in on all the information. He told you to follow him. And you did as he led you to his office. Leaving the kind man as you called Mr. Barrow behind.

Thomas being his usual self went to stand outside of Mr. Carson’s office. He didn’t have anything better to do anyway he was done with everything for the moment. So it wouldn’t hurt to listen in on their conversation.

He could hear most of the conversation but some words were muffled by the walls between Thomas and the two of you. Thomas could just barely make out your faint voice as words stuttered out from your mouth. It was all the usual boring information. About how he wanted you to learn as quickly as possible, that you were to make no mistakes, no scandals for the family, and blah blah blah. Well that’s until Mr. Carson told you to go find the man you had talked to before. “Mr. Barrow is to give you a tour around the house today and introduce you to everyone as he is the only one we can spare at the moment” with that Thomas heard a chair scrape the floor and realised that Mr.Carson was about to open the door. Thomas hurriedly walked a few meters away from the door to make it seem like he was walking toward the two of you. Luckily for Mr. Barrow, the door didn’t open for a few more minutes.

However when it did open Carson’s booming voice called out to Thomas and he quickly made his way to Carson and you. Carson told Thomas what he already knew. That he was to see you around the house and introduce you to everyone.

As the butler turned and walked away Thomas heard a breathy sigh escape your lips before he turned to you. He guessed you thought the butler was scary. He couldn’t blame you though as the first thing you had seen of Carson was him angry at a footman who did something wrong.

Instead of commenting on it like he usually did with everyone else he decided to ask another time. “Well come on then” Your head turned to him at those words. Innocent anxious eyes staring up at him. He thought you looked more like a child than a teenager at this moment (which would turn out to be a lot of moments in the future). He couldn’t help but to smile your way before he stalked forward towards the kitchen. While he did so he pointed out everything and every person that walked by. So far you knew who Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes were, plus a few maids and who the footmen were.

Eventually you were both in the kitchen where Thomas pointed out who everyone was. The cook, Mrs. Patmore was a short, round older woman with ginger hair. The young kitchen maid was Daisy who seemed to get yelled out a lot for things she did wrong. She had smiled saying a “Hello” to you before she went back to work. While Mrs. Patmore said a hello before going back to work, yelling for Daisy to take out whatever was in the oven.

Next thing William who was the footman as well as Mr. Barrow beside you walked into the kitchen. As the observer that you were, you noticed that William literally had heart eyes Daisy’s way. William was a blonde young man who seemed rather nice, a bit clumsy but nice. Not like Mr. Carson who seemed rather scary and angry all the time. Mrs. Hughes seemed nice enough, stern but nice. Then there was Sarah O’Brien. She was a friend of Thomas but you didn’t like her that much, she didn’t seem that friendly and looked like a person who stuck their noses where they didn’t belong (being completely oblivious about Thomas). Anna however was a blonde woman who was way too nice. She was the second one to show you any kindness after Thomas. Mr. Bates was the one person you couldn’t quite make out an opinion on yet, he was pretty nice but he glared daggers at Thomas who did the same back to Bates.

But in the end it didn’t matter if you only liked Thomas or if you liked everyone. They all seemed to adore you, even Lord Grantham and his family seemed to adore you.

･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

As time passed by you were still as shy as when you got there. It seemed like you didn’t want to talk to anyone and you mostly stayed in your room. But people still adored you. Because whenever you did speak or was out of your room you spoke nothing but kindness. It was in your nature. No one had ever seen you as anything but kind at Downton Abbey. They adored how you could naturally be that way. How even though you didn’t like someone you still showed nothing but kindness towards them. That’s why it was so strange to everyone that you weren’t drawn to the second most kindest soul at Downton. You weren’t drawn to Anna. Rather you were drawn to one of the troublemakers, to one of the mean ones as they called Mr. Barrow.

You didn’t know why they called Thomas mean and a bully. He had done nothing wrong to you. Mr. Barrow had done nothing wrong whenever you were near him. He was like a saint in your eyes. He was the first to show you kindness at Downton, even though everyone did. Thomas was still the first. For some reason you trusted Thomas more than the others. Maybe because he was the first one you talked to at Downton. You didn’t quite know.

Thomas however was no saint. No he only acted kind whenever you were around. Everyone noticed it. Though they thought it nice of Thomas to actually be nice for a change it was still only when you were around. Why he was so kind to you they didn’t know but no one could resist but to adore you, not even Thomas Barrow. He could act as mean as he liked whenever you weren’t around but as soon as you came into the room he was kind, well kinder at least.

Maybe he thought that as you were here he could actually get a friend. That’s why he was nice to you. He needed a friend. And not just O’Brien who he plotted schemes with, no he wanted a real actual friend. That spot was open for you. And you were so overly oblivious to the real Thomas (well the real Thomas if you asked everyone else).

He saw it a bit strange however when you saw him for who he truly was for the first time. It was the time he had tried to get Bates sacked for the second time, which didn’t work. You had caught him in the process of it. Then a few days later you had seen him ask Daisy out when it was clear that William was about to do just that. Then a few days later he slipped up again when you were around. He started to slip up a lot and acted a lot meaner, just because he thought you would leave him when you knew who he truly was. But you didn’t. How wrong Thomas had been.

A few weeks later you found him outside while he was smoking. He had avoided you for the last couple of weeks and it had pained you so much that you had to eventually seek him out for yourself. You didn’t want to force yourself and Thomas into a friendship but it was what you wanted. A friendship with Thomas Barrow.

He was standing against a wall as he blew out smoke. It was how you usually found him outside. Smoking.

“Thomas” he turned around. Watching as you stepped towards him. Thomas stopped what he was doing as you stood in front of him. A kind smile plastered on your lips. He hadn’t ever seen you this confident before. It was a change from your usual shy expression.

Thomas let his grip on the cigarette go. When it fell to the ground he stepped on it twisting his foot so that the glow would go out. He readied himself to go inside when your hand stopped him. “Thomas please, I just want to speak” he stopped and looked down on the hand in his forearm. Then he turned around to you and waited for you to speak. He didn’t like ignoring you but he thought it better than to hear your voice tell him that you didn’t want to be his friend anymore. He was so wrong about that. If he had let you talk a lot sooner he would have known that you were still friends. “I just- I” you were back to your shyness again as Thomas stared you down. “I hope we could still be friends, I- I know you probably don’t as- as you have been ignoring me, but I do want to be your friend- it seems like you don’t have a lot of those and- and I’d like to be one of them”

Thomas genuinely smiled. He hadn’t smiled in the last couple of weeks not since he started to avoid you.

･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

A couple days later after your talk with Thomas you went to Thomas once more. Mr. Carson had told you to fix a clock. No one else could be spared so he against his wishes had left it to you. But as you had no idea on how to do it you needed to ask for help. And as Thomas was the only person you really trusted you went to him. Hoping for your life that he knew how to fix a clock.

Luckily he did. He told you that his father used to be a clockmaker and he used to work as a child for his father. So he obviously helped you. But had it been anyone else he would have told them to ask someone else, as he had a lot of tasks to do that day that didn’t involve fixing clocks.

It was how Anna had found you two. Fixing a clock while Thomas was supposed to clean all the silver with William. Anna had previously been looking for Thomas for William who was now halfway done with the silver. But Anna didn’t want to destroy one of the happy moments Thomas had. Because for once he actually smiled. Not the polite servant's smile. No an actual smile that went to his eyes.

You had messed something up and Thomas and you were now laughing as he had to help you fix it. The two of you talked a lot. Your voice might still be quiet but you did talk without stuttering. Which Anna thought was good as it meant you had someone who could help you boost your confidence even if it was the troublemaker Thomas Barrow.

Eventually Thomas saw Anna and his demeanor changed instantly. His once smile turned into his normal servant expression. He glared a bit at Anna as he realised she had been standing there for a while observing how he was with you. How he was so soft on you as he had talked with a kind voice and as he listened patiently to every word you said.

He patted you on the back and told you the last step before he went up and went away to do his duties.

After that time it seemed like you were less afraid to talk. You started to talk with people more and be out of your room a bit more. But still you only ever really talked to Thomas. You might have a bit of small talk with others. But nothing compared to your talks with Thomas. He always knew what to say to you. He always boosted your confidence. And he might have been a bit jealous the first time he saw you have a conversation with someone that wasn’t him. But what you only ever did with Thomas was ask him questions. Every question you had was asked to Thomas. And Thomas happily answered all of them.

It was still so strange for everyone to see you and Thomas together. Thomas was like a whole new person. But he wasn’t. No, you just brought out Thomas without all the walls. Thomas who didn’t have walls to protect him from everything. He didn’t need to be scared that he wasn’t accepted by you that he didn’t fit in. Because no matter what you’d still be there with him. And Thomas knew that so he let the real him show for you, the hurt, the kind, everything. Thomas protected and comforted you as you have protection and comfort to him. He might not want to admit it but he did have a soft spot for you and if anything happened to you he didn’t know what he would do.

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