#enjoy!! i put a TON of hard work into this-
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Unbirthday
A/N: Although I am now two entire weeks late (I am the actual worst) this was written as a birthday gift for @something-tofightfor, because she is the fucking best and I love her guts. Rachael, I hope you enjoy this silly little story. Since Frankie Morales is apparently a "fictional character" and isn't "real" I couldn't wrap him up and send him to you, so this was the best I could do. Sorry it became an unbirthday gift - but it sort of works with the story that way. Anywho, here's hoping that this trip around the sun is a GOOD one!
And if it's your unbirthday today, happy unbirthday to you, too!
Word Count: 6.2k
Warnings: alcohol, and Frankie's shoulders and back making a shirt work very hard.
Summary: Spending your birthday in a brand new city goes from zero to sixty thanks to a co-worker who is determined to become a friend... and thanks to the breathtakingly handsome guy she introduces you to.
You had only been at your new job for a few weeks when your birthday rolled around, so when you walked into your office and flicked the lights on that morning, you were shocked to find a balloon tied to your chair and a white bakery box holding an assortment of cupcakes atop your desk.
What? Who did th-
“Surprise!”
You spun around to see a handful of your co-workers gathered in the doorway behind you, bright smiles on their faces as they wished you a happy birthday.
“Oh, shit!” You let out a laugh as your hand came up to cover your mouth, prompting more laughs from the others.
This is so nice, I wasn’t... Despite the fact that on your very first day at the firm, the office had been celebrating someone else’s birthday, you hadn’t expected anything for yours. Because I’m still brand new here, they hardly know me. You got along well almost immediately with the people you worked with, which was fantastic. Still, the fact that they embraced you quickly enough that they would want to do something for your birthday came as a genuine surprise that gave you a small rush of warmth.
Not that you needed it. January in Tampa was certainly not January in the midwest. You hadn’t felt a chill since you took the transfer, a fact that you made sure to text your shivering friends back home every few days. But even though it was a balmy 68°F and you were wearing short sleeves under your light sweater, the added warmth of your colleagues’ kindness was more than welcome.
Dropping your hand, you beamed at the group which had grown by two more associates from the interior architecture department down the hall, Mel and Casey. “Thank you all so much! You guys really didn’t have to do anything at all. I-”
“Oh, stuff it, of course we did!” Gloria, whose office shared a glass partition with yours and with whom you traded exaggerated expressions while on client calls, stepped forward and threw her arms around you. “You’re the best transfer this office has ever had, we lucked out when we got you! Of course we’re going to celebrate your birthday.”
You chuckled, giving her a quick, loose hug in return. “Gloria, did you do this? Also, weren’t you a transfer from the New York office?”
“I was. Like I said,” she released you and stepped back, grinning. “You’re the best transfer we’ve had. Happy birthday, Ohio.”
The rest of the group called out individual well-wishes before filing back to their own offices and cubicles, leaving just you and Gloria.
“Thank you,” you said again, reaching out to quickly squeeze her arm. “It really means a lot to me.” You sighed, finally putting down your bag and shrugging off your sweater. “I’ve been loving living down here, but the past few days, I don’t know, I guess I’ve been a little homesick. I don’t usually do a ton for my birthday, but this is the first one where I won’t see any of my family or my friends from back home so…” You gestured to the bakery box sitting next to your keyboard. “This was just really nice of you.”
“You’re welcome.” She scrunched her nose. “Thanks for being ten thousand times better to work with than that dipshit you replaced, Kevin.”
You snorted. Though you’d never had the displeasure of meeting the notorious Kevin, you’d heard enough about him to know that his presence in the office was definitely not missed. “No problem, though from what I understand it’s a very low bar.”
“Which you leap over with the ease and grace of a…” She circled her hand through the air. “A… Oh, I don’t know, whatever the hell leaps gracefully. I’m a landscape architect, not a poet.”
That made you laugh again. “Speaking of which,” you pointed at your computer screen. “Are you ready for that conference call with the city planner? J.R. approved our designs, so-”
“Yeah, yeah,” she cut you off, nodding. “All set. Designs for the new park. Not looking forward to dealing with Sweetheart McGee, but-” You rolled your eyes as she used the nickname you’d given to one of the men you’d been working with from the city planner’s office who called the to of you “sweetheart” every time you’d spoken to him. “But it should be a smooth call. More importantly, though-”
You had a sneaking suspicion that whatever was coming next wasn’t, in fact, more important than the biggest project that the landscape department had in house at the moment. Gloria had a tendency to use the phrase “More importantly, though…” to segue into a conversation about whether or not you wanted to get coffee delivered or which shoes you thought she should wear to her cousin’s wedding or if you thought Greg from IT was cute or not because she could totally set you up with him if you did.
And you were proven right as she finished her sentence.
“Do you have plans tonight?”
Shrugging, you shook your head. “Nah. I’ll probably just order in and finally finish unpacking the last of my stuff from the move. There’s a sushi place around the corner from me that I’ve been meaning to try, so… Why are you looking at me like that?”
The way she was looking at you was a mix of the way you might look at the last puppy in the window at the pet store, combined with the confusion one might display while trying to solve an extremely advanced math equation.
“Because you cannot just go home and eat sushi by yourself on your birthday.” She held up her hand then, face returning to a neutral expression. “Unless that’s actually what you want to do. And if it is, I won’t judge.” But? “Buuuuut.” She pressed her lips together. “If you want to get out and do something fun?
You cocked your head to the side. Maybe. There was no harm in seeing what she had in mind. If it wasn’t your speed you still had your backup plan. And I should really get that shit unpacked, but… It doesn’t have to be tonight. “What are you suggesting?”
Gloria’s eyes lit up as you asked, her smile widening. “Well, Benny’s… You met my boyfriend, Benny, last week when he picked me up, remember?” You did, so you nodded. “It’s actually one of his and his brother’s friends’ birthday today, too, or, it was yesterday, but they’re going out tonight because one of them was working last night I think? I don’t know. My point is, it’s just going to be a casual thing down at Duffy’s, and if you want to join, you absolutely should.”
You were about to decline when you asked yourself why you shouldn’t go.
First of all, you seemed to be on the fast track for an out of office friendship with Gloria. The two of you clicked right away, and though you’d only spent time with her out of work once, you could easily see it happening more and more. And I want that. You had solid friendships back home and scattered far and wide, and those people meant the world to you. But you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want to form a few friendships in your new home, too.
There was also the fact that the bar she’d mentioned, Duffy’s, was only a few miles from your place. It was actually where you and your sister went for drinks after she helped you move the last of your things into your condo. She’d driven down with you to keep you company on the trip, then taken a flight back home. But before she did, the two of you spent a day exploring your new neighborhood and ended up at Duffy’s. Though you were excited about your new job and the new start in a new place, you were still a little unsure if you’d made the right decision. But when you walked into the well-loved and weathered beach bar that night, something told you that everything was going to work out just as it should.
And if for some reason that harmonious feeling you got upon entering Duffy’s was a one time thing, you could leave and be home in under eight minutes. And tomorrow’s Saturday, so… Fuck it.
“You know what?” You nodded, a grin curving up your cheek. “That sounds great, Gloria.”
She let out a small gasp and clapped her palms together once. “You’ll come?”
“Yeah.” You nodded again, your grin growing into a full blown smile. “What time?”
“Ah! I’m so happy!” She genuinely was, and it made you feel good to know that she was looking forward to getting to know you outside of work. “I think Benny said nine, but I’ll ask him to be sure and then get back to you.” She clapped her hands together again and sucked in a breath as though something just occurred to her. “Oh! And you’ll get to meet Yovanna! I told you about her I think? Anyway, she’s dating Santi, one of the guys in the group. She’s great, you’ll like her.” Gloria chuckled. “And she’ll like you, too.”
“I hope so!” And if not or if it’s awkward because they’re friends and I’m new… I can just go.
“No, she will, trust me.” Gloria furrowed her brow and nodded. “You two are actually pretty similar.” She smirked. “You don’t take shit and neither does she.” The slightest hint of mischief sparkled in her eyes as another thing dawned on her. “Wait, two of the guys are very single right now and one of them-” You were trying to stop her right there because you weren’t looking for a setup, but she didn’t let you, simply speaking just a touch louder so all you could do was laugh. “One of them is Benny’s brother, and the other is-”
You finally got her to stop by waving your arms and forming them into an X shape, still laughing. “Gloria. Stop. I’ll come out because it sounds fun. But I’m not looking for a matchmaker.”
She held up her hands in surrender, a sheepish smile in place. “Fine. I’m just trying to give you all the information ahead of time.” She winked. “Just in case.”
“Okay.” You winked back, giving her a thumbs up. “Consider me briefed.”
Before Gloria could say anything else, Mel’s voice came through the speaker on your desk phone, saying your name. You pressed the button that let you respond. “What’s up, Mel?”
“Brandon Grant from the city planner’s office is on line one for the conference call with you and Gloria.” From across the room you heard Gloria groan, then looked up to watch her mouth “Sweetheart McGee already?” with a sickly frown on her face, and you had to close your eyes and cover your mouth so you wouldn’t snort into the speaker. “Can I put him through?”
You cleared your throat and shot Gloria a look. “Can you just give me one minute before you put him on? Tell him I’m on the other line, just so I can log in and get the project files open and get situated.”
“No problem,” Mel answered. “He’s early, anyway. Just buzz me back when you’re ready.”
Thanking Mel, you clicked the button to end the call and then let your hands fall against your lap as you faced Gloria. “Alright, you ready to get this over with?”
“We are really going to deserve those drinks after dealing with this guy.” She sighed, then headed for the door, only to appear a second later on the other side of the glass wall. She sat at her desk and started up her computer, then looked over at you and nodded once.
You buzzed Mel back and then you were on the line with Brandon Grant, the man stepping right into his nickname upon greeting.
“Good morning, sweetheart, how you doing today?”
You cringed, forcing a smile into your voice as you answered. “Oh, you know! Another day in paradise! Are you ready to go over the landscape designs for the new park?”
For the next hour you and Gloria took Brandon through the possible layouts, explaining why certain plants and elements were chosen, and answering all of his questions while simultaneously keeping a count of how many times he referred to either of you as “sweetheart”. By the time you hung up, the count had reached twelve and he’d thrown in a “hun” as a bonus.
We definitely deserve those drinks tonight.
But even though he was a pain in the ass to deal with, Sweetheart McGee has chosen one of the three designs you’d proposed, and as long as it was approved by the city council, it would be your first project to move into construction since switching locations. Which is pretty cool.
You sighed, leaning back in your desk chair as you peeled the paper off of one of the cupcakes from the box your co-workers had left you, reading over your calendar to see what was next on your schedule. Taking a bite, you hummed in satisfaction. Damn, that’s good.
It was only ten in the morning, but it was already proving to be a better birthday than you hoped for. As much as you tried to focus on work for the rest of the day, you couldn’t help but feel excitement about the prospect of going out later that night.
Because… It means I could really have a life here. Not just a job. Friends and good times and… You really didn’t want Gloria to try to set you up with anyone. But if it happened naturally?
Well, if that were the case, you’d be open to anything.
Sometime after your lunch break, Gloria heard back from Benny and confirmed the time with you, the woman insisting that you let them pick you up despite your protests about how close the bar was to your place.
“You really don’t have to do that,” You tried one last time. “I don’t mind driving myself, and I don’t want to intrude on your date night or anything.”
Gloria waved you off and clicked her tongue. “It’s not date night, it’s birthday drinks with friends. I promise you Benny doesn’t mind, and I definitely don’t.”
Oh, what the hell? It was clear that Gloria was trying to make sure that you felt included, even though you wouldn’t know anyone there aside from her and her boyfriend, whom you’d only exchanged a few words with. You appreciated how welcoming and inviting she was, and knew that she meant well, having been new to the area herself only a year earlier. I can still call an Uber if I have to leave early, and that way I don’t have to worry about having more than two drinks.
“Okay,” you said, finally giving in with a sigh full of faux exasperation that turned into a laugh. “You win!” You told her that you would text her your address, and then Mel was calling you through the intercom, letting you know that another of your clients was waiting on line one.
“And I have Annie Fulton from Florida Polytechnic on line two for Gloria,” Mel added. “So if you could tell her to leave you alone and get back to her own desk that would be swell.”
Snorting out a laugh, you looked over at the co-worker who was quickly becoming a friend, only to find that she was laughing, too. “Well,” you said, “You heard Mel. Get out of here.”
“Alright, alright, I’m going.” She backed out the door, calling out one last thing before she was visible on the other side of the glass wall again. “Can’t wait for later!”
As you prepped the files for your next call, you realized that you couldn’t wait for later, either.
– – –
Pope and Yovanna were just getting out of their car when Frankie turned into the lot at Duffy’s, his truck’s headlights sweeping across the other parked cars to reveal that both Millers, as well as a few guys he worked with down at the airfield, were already inside.
Gang’s all here, I guess.
He pulled into the spot next to Pope, the other man waving at him through the windshield, his free arm wrapped around Yovanna’s waist. She waved, too, giving him a smile that brightened her whole face. Turning off the ignition, he waved in return, then glanced at his reflection in the rearview mirror, removing his hat and smoothing his hair down before yanking it back down over his curls.
Good enough. Not trying to impress anyone anyway.
As soon as he opened his door, he was greeted by Pope’s voice. “Ahí está el viejo!”
Before Frankie could respond, Yovanna smacked Santi on the arm. “And who are you calling old, hmm? Estás pisándole sus talones.” Frankie laughed at that, reaching past Pope to give Yovanna a hug first. “Happy Birthday, Francisco,” she said, kissing him on the cheek and giving him a squeeze.
“Thank you,” he replied, grinning at her as they separated. He turned to face his friend then, giving him a nod. “And she’s right, pendejo. You’re catching up. If I’m old, what does that make you?”
“Still younger than you,” Pope responded with a chuckle, slapping Frankie’s back before slinging an arm around him.
“Yeah, yeah, alright,” Frankie rolled his eyes. “C’mon, let’s get inside before Benjamin comes looking for us.”
The night out was happening at Benny’s insistence. Up until two days earlier, Frankie had no birthday plans and he had been just fine with that. Forty three wasn’t exactly a major milestone. And with the way things had only just started to really settle following their return from South America - the reinstatement of his pilot’s license, the finalization of his divorce, getting shared custody of his daughter - he hadn’t had time to think about smaller, more trivial things. Least of all, celebrating his own forty third birthday.
But Benny claimed that a new beginning at the end of the shitstorm was the perfect time to celebrate.
Which Frankie thought sounded a little like one of Will’s speeches blended with Benny’s optimism and garnished with a twist of Pope’s persuasiveness, but at the same time, he kind of saw the point that his friend was trying to make.
It’s less about my birthday and more about… He swallowed, flexing his right hand and then loosening it and letting it fall to his side. More about everything that comes after.
The after. That was something that Frankie could readily celebrate. The fact that he, that all four of them, had survived the biggest mistake that any of them had ever made and could still fill their lives with good things, big and small. That was something he could drink to.
Besides, it’s not actually my birthday today. It was yesterday.
That didn’t stop Benny from letting the whole bar think otherwise.
“Hey! Happy Birthday, Fish!” The younger of the Miller brothers exclaimed as Frankie, Pope and Yovanna stepped inside. He raised both arms, a full pitcher in one hand and a stack of empty glasses in the other. Behind him, Frankie saw Will stand from a table where he had been sitting with Gloria before making his way over to say hello as Yovanna made her way over to take Will’s place at the table. But who is that other woman?
You turned then, laughing at something that Gloria had said. And even though he could only see half of your face from the angle of where you were sitting, he felt an instant attraction at the way that laugh brightened your eyes. I don’t know who she is, but I want to.
“There he is,” Will said, clapping him on the shoulder with a grin. “Happy birthday, Morales. What are you now, sixty? Sixty five?”
“Cool it, Ironhead, I’m only three years older than you.” Frankie responded, feigning offense and shrugging Will’s hand away.
“Yeah, yeah,” Will laughed as Benny passed a full beer to Frankie. “We’re all on our way to the old folks home.”
“Speak for yourselves,” the younger man interjected, filling and passing a glass to Pope, too. “Gloria and I are still thriving in our thirties, so-”
“So that means you’re paying for drinks?” Pope chimed in through a smirk as he gripped his glass. “Wow. How generous of you, Benny.”
Benny rolled his eyes. “Ha, ha.” Setting the pitcher down, he raised his own glass and the other three followed suit. “To Frankie. Cheers to being another year wiser than these wiseasses.” He cocked his head in Will and Pope’s direction.
“Now hold on a minute, Ben, I-”
But Frankie didn’t let Pope get the rest of his protest out before clinking his glass to the three that were waiting. “No, I think that was a perfect toast. Thanks, Benny.” He took a swig of his drink, and even though he hadn’t really wanted to come out, he was already glad that he had. Nights out with the guys weren’t rare occasions, not by a long shot. But he was still grateful that he got to have them. And tonight’s just getting started.
Yuri and Ed from the airfield filed over then to wish Frankie a happy birthday, followed by a few other friends and acquaintances that Benny and Will had spread the word to. After about an hour of mingling, he finally made his way over to the table where the rest of the group was sitting, dropping into a seat next to Gloria.
“Happy birthday, Frankie!” She spoke over the music and chatter as she leaned over to give him a loose hug.
“Thank you, Glo.” He smiled at her as he pulled back. “It’s nice to see you, thanks for coming out.”
She waved a hand as she reached for the handle of the pitcher, Benny scooching it towards her without breaking from the conversation he was having with Will and Pope. “Of course! Wouldn’t miss it.” She poured herself a half glass of beer, then wordlessly asked if he wanted a refill, too.
Nodding, he held his glass in place. “Thanks,” he murmured, looking over his shoulder as she topped him off. “Hey who did I see you talking to before?” And where is she now?
A mischievous grin stretched across her lips as she looked up at him and set the pitcher on the table. What is that look for? “A friend from work,” she responded, telling him your name. “A single friend,” she added.
Frankie huffed out a short laugh. “I’m not- I didn’t-”
“I know you didn’t.” Gloria winked at him. “I just want you to have all the information,” she added, knocking the rim of her glass to his.
“Well…” He raised his glass to his lips, smiling behind it. Well… That’s good to know. “Okay.”
“Oh! And it’s her birthday, too, so I invited her out.”
What? And she didn’t have other plans? “Oh. Well, I’m glad you did,” he said, setting his drink on a cardboard coaster and letting his fingers slide down the chilled glass. “The more the merrier.”
He looked up and in the direction of the restrooms just as you and Yovanna came through the hallway that led to them, and when he did, he locked eyes with you. Fuck, she’s beautiful. He felt his smile grow again at the sight of you, especially when he noticed your slight intake of breath as your eyes met his. He watched Yovanna say something into your ear that made you cover your face and laugh, and then she raised her hand to wave at him.
I wonder what she said to her. He raised one eyebrow along with his hand as you dropped yours from your face. The remnants of your laughter were still written all over your cheeks and again he felt an undeniable pull, a desire to get to know you. Because I want to see that smile again. And I want to put it there.
His thoughts were interrupted by Pope tapping the table in front of him. “Hey, ground control to Catfish.” Frankie blinked, turning his attention back to his friends. “You’re not going deaf on us, are you? I asked if you’re in.”
Picking up an unused coaster, he flung it like a frisbee at Pope, who batted it down in one smooth motion. “Just selectively.”
“Ha, ha.” Pope rolled his eyes. “So does that mean you don’t want to go to the Lightning game on Wednesday?”
“The Lightning?” Frankie took a sip of his beer, eyebrows drawn together. “Since when are you a hockey fan? Do you even know anything about hockey?”
“Oh, believe me, he does not.” Yovanna laughed as she dropped into the booth bench next to Pope, her arm going around his shoulders so that her fingers could card through the hair that curled behind his ear. He turned to face her, both of them wearing ear to ear grins. “We watched the game last night and he had no clue what was going on the whole time.”
“I didn’t,” he admitted, garnering snickers and snorts from both Miller brothers. “But I’m learning.” He shrugged. “The tickets are from work. We just signed a contract with Amalie Arena so I’ll get tickets a few times a year. So I figured why not broaden my horizons?”
“It’s not the easiest game to understand right away, but if you give it a few games and actually pay attention, you’ll catch on.” Another voice joined the conversation then, and everyone turned towards where you stood at the edge of the table. “I have a friend who’s a big fan so I’ve watched a few games with her.” Giving a small shake of your head, you laughed. “I still don’t know all the rules. It’s a wild sport, but it’s fun.”
“See?” Pope gestured at you with one hand. “I don’t have to know the rules to have fun.”
“Oh, good.” Frankie placed his palm flat on the table. “So your short attention span should be just fine then.” His friend’s response was to flip him the bird, the rest of the table laughing before falling back into conversation as Frankie stood and faced you. “Hi, sorry I didn’t get to introduce myself yet. I’m Francisco.” He shook his head. “Frankie. Let me grab you a chair.”
– – –
You hadn’t even finished your first drink yet, so you knew the rush of warmth you felt in that moment had nothing to do with the alcohol and everything to do with Frankie’s slightly lopsided smile.
Fuck, he’s handsome. He pulled a chair away from an empty table and plopped it next to his. And chivalrous.
“Thank you.” You sat, returning his smile with one of your own, and telling him your name as Gloria slid your glass across the table from where you were sitting before to your new seat between Frankie and Yovanna. “And happy birthday.” You lifted your drink in his direction before taking a sip. “Thanks for letting me crash your plans.”
“Thank you.” His grin spread wider, lifting his cheeks into his eyes. “Happy birthday to you, too.’ He tipped his drink so that he could clink the rim of his glass to yours. “And you’re welcome. I’m glad Gloria invited you.”
Your eyes darted over just in time to see Gloria shoot you a wink over Frankie’s shoulder. “Yeah,” you said, still smiling, your heart beating just a blip faster. “Me too.”
Over the next hour and a half that became even more true as you fell easily into conversation with the group. Gloria had been right about you and Yovanna clicking, and the guys were just as easy to get along with. Since there were other people there for Frankie’s birthday than just the seven seated at the table, he got up a few times to go spend some time with them, too, but each time he came back he returned his focus to you, either commenting on something that you were telling the others, or asking you questions if you weren’t part of the larger conversation happening.
You told him about your job at the architecture firm, and about the transfer that brought you down to Tampa in the first place. Will and Benny chimed in when you talked about how different winter was where you were from, the Indiana born brothers claiming that they’d love to see Frankie or Santi shovel their way out of a Midwest blizzard.
“Why?” Frankie grimaced. “That just sounds like it hurts.”
You’d laughed at that, nodding. “It does. I love the snow and I don’t really mind shoveling but…” You sighed. “I won’t miss the whole body aches after doing it.”
“Facts,” Gloria agreed, nodding sagely. “Shoveling snow is not fun or easy.”
“You lived in a co-op building in Queens, Glo,” Benny responded, tightening the arm he had around her and giving her a skeptical side eye. “You didn’t have to shovel anything.”
“I did not,” she confirmed. “But I watched the snow removal guys and they definitely did not look like they were enjoying themselves.”
Everyone laughed at that, and then the conversation branched in a different direction. But Frankie didn’t follow it, turning to you and circling back to your recent move. “So aside from the weather, are you liking it down here?”
Smiling, you nodded. “I am. I’m still getting my feet under me. Learning where things are and which take out spots are good and all that.”
Frankie hummed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Try Tino’s on Gateway Boulevard if you like burritos,” he suggested. “And if you like sushi you should try Ginkaku on-”
“-North Evans?” You asked the location at the same time that he said it, your eyes widening. What are the odds? “Yeah, I’ve been meaning to try there.” You chuckled under your breath. “I was actually going to stop there tonight on my way home from work, but then Gloria told me I couldn’t spend my birthday eating sushi alone, so…”
You trailed off as someone near the bar called over to Frankie, telling him that they had to get going. He twisted in his seat to respond, saying that he’d be over in a second, and you found yourself staring at the way the movement made the fabric of his shirt stretch over his broad back. Damn. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Gloria and Yovanna giving each other looks that you were fairly certain had to do with the way you were looking at Frankie, but you didn’t care because when he turned around again, his deep brown eyes locked with yours and nearly knocked you sideways.
“Sorry, I just have to go say goodbye to a buddy of mine from work, and-”
“No, don’t apologize! Of course.” You cocked your head towards the bar. “Go ahead, Frankie, I’ll be here when you get back.”
He took a breath, then swallowed and nodded, eyes still on you as he stood from his seat. “Okay. I’ll be right back.” With that, he turned and headed over to the bar, and you were met with a view of his back again.
Tearing your eyes away in an attempt to be more subtle about your attraction to a man you had met less than two hours ago, you cleared your throat and finished your drink.
Your attempt was for naught, though, because even though Gloria was engaged in an intense conversation with Benny, Will and Santi, Yovanna was looking at you with a smirk. “I told you,” she said, one eyebrow raised as she lifted her drink to her lips. “I saw the way he looked at you before. He’s definitely interested.”
I hope she’s right. Heat flooded your cheeks as the thought crossed your mind, and you knew you likely looked flustered, but you shook your head and let out a scoff. “I- He… Yovanna, I’m sure it’s just-” You shrugged. “A birthday hookup or-”
Her head moved side to side then, her dark curls swinging from her ponytail. “No. That’s not Francisco.” She glanced over at Santi, the man throwing his head back in laughter and clapping Will on the shoulder, a warm smile that softened her sharp eyes on her face when she turned back to you. “The two of them are very much alike. They don’t waste their time on things that they don’t think will be around tomorrow.”
As though on cue, Santiago leaned over to press a kiss to Yovanna’s cheek. “You good?” He murmured the words against her skin before pulling away. She turned to nod, scrunching her nose. “We’ll get going soon, yeah?” She nodded again, the man dropping another kiss to the opposite cheek. “Okay.”
He turned back to the others then, but you noticed that his hand stayed on her thigh as she returned her focus to you, saying your name. “I know that you just met me tonight, too, but you can trust me on this. Besides-” She tapped her phone and you looked down at the time on the screen. “Tonight is not really his birthday, and it’s almost not yours anymore, either. So it can’t just be a birthday hookup.” She widened her eyes and pressed her lips together, reaching for the pitcher in the middle of the table. “I’m going to have one more drink. Do you want one?”
Before you could respond, you felt the weight of Frankie’s grip on the back of your chair as he lowered himself back into his own seat. But it was the trail of his fingertips across your shoulder as he withdrew his hand that made you suck in a breath and wonder if Yovanna was right. Realizing that you hadn’t answered her question, you blinked and nodded. “Um, sure. Just half a glass, though.”
Because if she’s right? I definitely want to stay clear headed for whatever might happen.
You thanked her as she poured for you, and then turned to Frankie, licking your lips as you smiled. “Did you catch your friend before they left?”
“I did.” He said it with a nod, then tilted his head to the side. What? Narrowing his eyes, he opened his mouth to say something, then hesitated, taking a breath instead of speaking. What is he- But then he straightened his head again and you saw - and felt - his eyes flick to your lips and then back up. Oh, shit, he- “So you said that you were originally planning on checking out that sushi place tonight but Gloria said you couldn’t spend your birthday eating sushi alone, right?”
You pulled your lower lip between your teeth and nodded. “Yeah.” And I’m glad I listened to her.
He sighed then and you got the feeling that he was working himself up to say something. “Well,” he let out a sheepish laugh and reached up to grip the back of his neck, thick fingers nudging the edge of his hat. “That place is open ‘til 2 on the weekends. If you’re hungry, we could go grab a bite.” Wait, is he… Is he asking me out? He shrugged, dropping his hand and giving you the same lopsided grin he gave you when he introduced himself to you. “That way you won’t be going by yourself and-”
You poked your tongue into the side of your cheek. “And technically by the time we get there it won’t even be my birthday anymore, so-”
Frankie nodded, grin spreading. “So Gloria won’t have a leg to stand on.”
A thousand tiny butterflies swarmed through your stomach at the thought of spending more time with Frankie one on one. Oh, I am so fucked. Taking a breath, you looked at him and what you saw only confirmed that thought. Frankie was the most attractive man you’d ever been this close to. And he’s asking me out. There was only one answer, as far as you were concerned.
“That sounds great, Frankie.” You held up a finger. “On one condition.” He lifted an eyebrow in question, so you went on. “We take it back to my place to go, because I have a bunch of birthday cupcakes leftover from the office this morning, and-”
He laughed, leaning in to rest his elbow on the table, getting close enough to say something that no one else would hear. “So you’re saying if I play my cards right, I might get to kiss frosting off your lips?”
Oh, holy fucking shit, Frankie.
You gasped then, Frankie pulling back to see the reaction on your face, the expression he was wearing one that you would remember for a long time. Finally, you cleared your throat and answered. “That is exactly what I’m saying, Francisco.”
His eyes flashed when you used his full name, and with his next breath, though he was still looking at you, he addressed the rest of the table. “Hey guys, this has been fun, but I think it’s time to call it a night.”
Within a few minutes the tab had been paid - Will, Benny and Santi insisting on splitting it between themselves - and goodbyes were said. But despite what Frankie had just said, you knew that your night was just getting started.
.
.
.
Thank you for reading! If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, please feel free to let me know by sending a message or filling out the form on my masterlist! :)
tags: @something-tofightfor @cannedsoupsuckssoupsucks @dihra-vesa @disgruntledspacedad @littlemisspascal
@alraedesigns @mishasminion360 @stevie75 @nyctophiliiiiaaa @practicalghost
@tanzthompson @amb11 @harriedandharassed @woodlandmouth @thescarletfang @trickstersp8
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@competentpotato @pedro-pedrito-pascalito @jedi-in-crocs @hannahkatharine @anoverwhelmingdin
@chiyo13 @myloveistoolittle @noisynightmarepoetry @Severin-proud
@Vickie5446 @jessthebaker
#HAPPY BIRTHDAY RACHAEL!!!#and happy unbirthday too#frankie morales x f!reader#frankie morales x you#frankie morales x reader#frankie catfish morales#francisco morales#triple frontier fic#frankie morales fic
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Follow Your Heart Episode 1 Humble Beginnings
#ac text#fyh episode#hearty fyh#football fyh#watermelon fyh#fusey fyh#fruit pop fyh#limey fyh#muffy fyh#sugar star fyh#strawberry taffy fyh#filing cabinet fyh#dagger fyh#gunny fyh#yo-yo fyh#enjoy!! i put a TON of hard work into this-
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make it make sense that I enjoy doing my job (especially the tedious parts) when I am off the clock, but as soon as I am supposed to be working I'd rather be doing LITERALLY anything else????
#like im having so much fun prepping all my TEAMS posts for Monday and doing SLEUTHING to figure out who owns this one meeting rn#but come Monday im gonna whine and groan and try my best to avoid my job as much as is reasonable. like??#and this happens often. I love doing remedial tasks at 2am. plugging shit into the glossaries that I dont care about woooooo hell yeah.#doing a quick audit on Tuesday at 10pm? yes. easy. takes 30 mins at MOST.#but like. ask me to update glossaries or make posts on TEAMS or do adults between 7am and 4:30 pm??? ABSOLUTELY NOT I will drag my FEET#If I really wanna psychoanalyze myself... I think that what's happening is that my work isnt interesting to me and I find it too easy#and really boring. and if im bored and dont care. it HURTS its SO HARD its PAINFUL to drag my brain through the mud to do it#and so I thus hate my job. BUT. the exact work I do for my job is what I ENJOY doing in my real life. I love organizing and scheduling#and prepping and alll that shit. like I work as an admin assistant at my job but like. I LOVE BEING AN ADMINISTRATOR FOR MY REAL LIFE!!#so when im off the clock and im in *sort my life out and prep for the future* mode of COURSE work is fun!! thats how I get my dopamine!!!#but I dont wanna be doing that ALL THE TIME cause like. tbh its kinda a stress response. so like. I want to do work that fills other needs.#I wanna do work that makes me hyperfixate and get super curious and challenges me and makes me think analytically and learn a ton#but my job doesnt do that. and my brain thus sorts the work I get paid to do as work that I do on my own time#thus I am really productive when im off the clock and dont do SHIT during the times I put down on my timesheet that I am working#shit still gets done but like.... at what cost?.#googoogajoob
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Mr. Bridgerton and the Baker
Benedict Bridgerton x Reader
Summary: Covered in flour. It is how she usually spent her days, working hard at her family's bakery. She just hadn't expected to have met him in such a state.
Word Count: 11.8k
Warnings: pining, angst, fluff, a small assault (reader gets hit, not by Benedict!), mention of pregnancy (like, literally a line or two),
A/N: Did I write an entire fic barely based on that one scene in Camp Rock where Mitchie is covered in flour? Yes. Do I regret it? No.
With the melting of snow and the promise of new starts, the social season was nearly upon the ton, nearly upon all the potential suitors and debutantes—all waiting with bated breath to secure a match this year. Of course, those in waiting were of high status, usually tied to the aristocracy or drowning in wealth beyond compare.
The others? The ones not blessed with endless funds or pure luck of royal lineage had the privilege, nay, honor to serve those who would be so fortunate. For the many, it included servicing the estates—butlers, lady’s maids, governesses, home chefs and the like. For the patrons on Tilbury Street, it included the less sought after roles, polishers, cobblers, modistes and bakeries. One bakery in particular was the prime choice for the aristocracy, a diamond in the rough as some may say.
—
“I just simply don’t understand why we cannot have our chefs prepare the pastries for the ball,” Eloise Bridgerton nearly groaned, her arm hooked onto her mother’s. They had been walking up and down Tilbury Street for the better part of twenty minutes, simply enjoying the fresh spring weather. “I’ve never known them to make horrid dishes.”
“It’s the first Bridgerton Ball of the season, Eloise,” the dowager viscountess murmured politely. “Along with it being the first Kate has had the pleasure of hosting, putting an order in here is a fresh foot forward, one that’ll impress our guests.”
Eloise barked back a laugh. “If it is so important, why is Kate not here to make the order herself?”
“That, dear sister, is an excellent point.” Following close behind the two Bridgerton ladies was a rather tall shadow, equally as dashing and nearly as clever—Benedict—the second eldest son of the Bridgerton brood. “Surely Anthony could spare his wife for one afternoon, I can’t imagine it being so difficult to pry them from their bedroom—”
“Benedict Bridgerton!” Violet snapped, turning hot on her heels to face her son. He could only laugh.
“Oh Mother, you must relax,” he said lovingly, patting both hands on her shoulders. “You know better than I that it could have been a far fouler thought—why, I can easily imagine three other ways I could have expressed my way of thinking.”
“Ah, ever the poet, Benedict,” Eloise smiled wryly, pushing her way to the front of their clump. No one had the heart to mention the glaring fact that it was likely she didn’t know the way in which they were headed.
“This bakery,” Violet continued half-heartedly. “Is a prestigious supplier for the ton—you may recall their exquisite cake that we had ordered for Daphne’s wedding.”
Benedict hummed contently. “It was a good cake,” he practically nodded off at the thought. The decadent sponge nearly brought him to tears—of course, it could have very well been the relief from undue stress of Daphne’s season altogether, having nearly lost his older brother to an unnecessary duel.
“I think it was far too sweet,” Eloise said, scrunching her nose in distaste. “I had to drink nearly three cups of tea to clear out the sugar on my tongue.”
“Ah, but what’s life without a little bit of sweetness?” Benedict nearly sang.
“Perfectly fulfilling,” his younger sister quipped back.
The dowager viscountess could only sigh, her eyes reaching up to the clouds above. While she loved nothing more than being the mother of all eight of her perfect children, their endless bickering and bantering grew vexing. It merely took the Bridgerton siblings another minute of arguing before stopping in front of a quaint storefront—the sickeningly sweet aroma filling the street. “We’re here.”
“I could have told you as much,” Benedict mumbled, rubbing his temple lightly. “The scent is… overpowering.” If he were lucky, the headache that was quickly forming would dull fast.
“But Benedict,” Eloise turned hot on her heels. “What’s life without a bit of sweetness?”
Violet Bridgerton was quick to catch her second eldest's hand before it met the back of Eloise’s head. “If it’s too much for you, dear,” she released her grip. “Please feel free to wait for us out here. It should only take a moment.”
“Like a ‘moment’ at the modiste?” Benedict crossed his arms, his brow nearly touching his hairline. “If I recall, the last time I accompanied you to the dressmaker, I spent over an hour basking in the summer sun.”
“Nothing logical stopped you from coming in,” Eloise drawled. “Of course, if you wanted to managed to stay pleasant with the seamstress, one should have kept it in his trousers—”
“We’ll only be a moment,” Violet hushed Eloise quickly, grasping the top of her arm firmly. “There seems to be little wait. We’ll be on our way shortly.”
He huffed towards the sun—while there had been little heat near the start of the English spring, the sun was warm against his skin. Benedict enjoyed being outdoors more often than not, it was usually the reason he accompanied his mother on their errands nearly every other day of the season. That, of course, and the fact it got his worrying mama off of his back to be wed. With Anthony finally securing a match, it was only fitting for Violet Bridgerton to be working her way down her list of endless children—having only two of eight married off. “It should only be a moment,” Benedict reassured himself, watching various other families and couples walk by.
That is, until he heard a rather loud bang coming from the alley beside him. He should have known better—he was taught better—than to investigate outlandish sounds, especially in town, but Benedict Bridgerton was nothing if not curious. He peeked around the corner, holding his breath, preparing to be met with a wild animal of some kind. His view was shaky at best, hardly could see a thing around the bricks. If he wanted a better look, he’d have to take a few steps towards the unusual noise.
A large white cloud had enveloped the small alley, it was difficult to even see a few meters ahead, let alone what could have caused the loud commotion. Benedict waved his hand through the mysterious fog, trying to clear some air. “Hello?” He heard a soft squeak. An animal, it had to have been, Benedict was sure of it now. “Is anyone there?”
A cough rang through the alley, startling him more than rogue vermin could have. The cloud had begun to dissipate, the white settling on the stone street below. Flour, if he had to guess, given the location.
“I’m alright,” a voice murmured quietly, another soft cough following quickly after. The shape of a person came into view, the air finally clearing enough for him to make sense of the scene he came upon. It was one of a woman now covered head to toe in the white powder—she had no distinguishable features, the flour was caking every bit of her body and dress. Just striking eyes that made Benedict’s heart jump to his throat. “Just… made a mess.”
“So it seems,” Benedict hummed, stepping over a pile of powder to get closer. “Do you require any help?”
“No, no,” she laughed. “I wouldn’t want you to get dirty. I fear I’ve got quite enough of that for the both of us.”
“I don’t mind getting dirty,” Benedict said quickly, his tongue moving faster than his brain. “But… yes, I suppose it’d be for the best if I refrained from getting any flour on me. May I ask how…?”
“Clumsy,” she uttered simply, the shrug of her shoulders speaking nothing but truth. “I must have the slipperiest fingers in town—I wish I could say this was the first time…”
“Manage to cover yourself in flour often?” Benedict’s lips pulled into a jesting smirk.
“Nearly every other day,” the woman sighed. “We’ve grown accustomed to purchasing an extra sack or two just for situations like these."
“I hardly doubt you could be that clumsy,” Benedict laughed, leaning against the stone wall. “But, I am painting quite the image in my head.”
“Oh I do hope I’m decent in that image, Mr. Bridgerton,” she giggled, curtsying in a near-mocking manner.
“How do you know—”
“Everyone knows your family, Mr. Bridgerton, I’d be a fool to admit I don’t know who you are—though you and your brothers all blur together, so I am merely taking a shot in the dark in which of the four you are.”
“Oh?”
She nodded once, a flurry of powder falling from her hair. A muffled shout from the back door startled her, grabbing her attention. “Ah,” the woman waved the air in front of her face, “I suppose I should take my leave—get cleaned up.”
“Of course,” Benedict said simply. “I won’t keep you.” In nearly an instant, the mysterious dusted lady disappeared from view, diving into the back door. He was taken aback by her candidness—having addressed him so forwardly without the pleasantries of a name exchange. “Damn,” he mumbled to himself, kicking residual flour off of his polished shoe, “I never asked for her name.” Would it be too forward to knock on the back door to ask for her? Benedict Bridgerton couldn’t wrap his head around the interaction—she nearly sent him into a tizzy.
“Brother?”
Eloise stood at the end of the alley, clutch in hand, face pinched in confusion.
“Ah, I suppose you’re finished?”
“Hardly,” Eloise scoffed, “Mother insisted on doubling the initial order ‘just to be safe’. She’ll be out in a moment.”
“Perhaps I should go inside to accompany her—”
“And leave your unwed sister unchaperoned in this part of town?” Eloise pressed a hand to her brother’s chest, stopping him dead in his tracks. His eyes danced quickly to the street in the distance, clearly not paying any attention to his sister. “Benedict?”
“Hm?” He glanced down. “Ah, maybe we should both go back inside—”
“You’re…” she pushed on him harder, nearly sending him backwards. “Acting strange. Not terribly long ago you wanted nothing to do with this place and now, you’re dying to jump into the building that brought you so much strife?” Eloise removed her hand from him, settling it down by her side as she glanced at him up and down. The blues of his outfit were covered slightly in a white power—not enough to really notice, but enough to give the appearance of filth. “And you’re covered in… flour?”
“I don’t wish to share every moment of my day with you, dear Sister,” Benedict said simply, sighing contently. “My business is my business.”
“Business,” Eloise parroted. “Sure.”
Violet Bridgerton had finished the order quickly, mumbling something about the higher prices this time of year—she had gotten a good deal regardless. Benedict was hardly listening, for he was already planning his next trip to this very bakery, hoping to meet the girl in flour once more.
He never did get the chance, to go back to town. His studies took up most of his free time, any other moment he had was spent with his ever-growing family. Just recently, his sister Daphne brought over her newest addition—another daughter named Belinda—who happened to be yet another spitting image of her mother. Benedict had a theory that every new Bridgerton baby will simply just inherit all the Bridgerton features, so far he had been proven correct.
“Damn,” Benedict mumbled, violently dabbing a paint brush into his water cup, the colors swirling from the end.
He had been in his studio for the last few hours, mixing endless pigments and oils together, trying to concoct the color in his mind’s eye. It was impossible, he theorized, to create the exact shades and hues of her eyes. It was the most striking thing he remembered about her appearance—save for the copious amount of white flour caking her form—and Benedict Bridgerton had come to the conclusion that her eyes were simply forged by God Himself, a color not meant for mortal recreation.
“Why can I not…” He sighed, slumping back in his stool, paintbrush nearly hitting his trousers. “This is impossible.”
The grand clock beside the door chimed out. It was nearly time to get ready for Anthony and Kate’s ball—an occasion he was most dreading, save for enjoying the few pastries that came from the quaint bakery down in town. Reluctantly, he began to pry himself from his studio and made his way to the washroom, preparing to soak away any remnants of her.
—
“Mother,” (Y/N) chimed out, tying the serving apron to her waist, “I don’t see the reason for my attendance this evening. Surely the hosts of the event will have their own serving staff?”
“(Y/N),” her mother exasperated, throwing a towel down. “Your brothers are ill and bedridden and have been the last few days. Your father and I are counting on you to help fulfill the order, my back isn’t what it used to be, if you recall.”
The girl sighed, her eyes rolling right up to the cracking ceiling. “How funny, it seems your back flares up nearly in time for deliveries to be made,” the girl mumbled.
“What was that?” Her mother turned quickly towards her only daughter. “I’m sure I misheard you.”
“You must have,” (Y/N) sang. “For I said I’m willing to help with the delivery, mother.”
The older woman narrowed her brow. “Never do I hear such sass from the boys… Perhaps a bit of manual labor will refocus your priorities.”
“I already agreed,” (Y/N) reiterated. “As if I had terribly too much of a choice…”
“No,” her mother clicked, slapping the a rather large ball of dough that resided on the floured surface. “You do not. Now come, help your mother roll this out.”
She had gotten ready for the ball in record time—seeing as how she’s never gotten ready for one. (Y/N) dug through her mother’s wardrobe, finding an old and somewhat outdated green dress to wear, but it did the trick just fine. It was far nicer than the frocks she had owned anyhow, a light embroidery laced the edges and was sure to be run over by her fingertips endlessly throughout the evening.
“The carriage is here!” Her father couldn’t have shouted louder throughout the small flat. Their home resided above the bakery, a quaint little thing with only two bedrooms—(Y/N) had the pleasure of sleeping in a rather over-glorified closet. If she reached her arms out, she’d be able to touch two of the walls easily, but like everything in her life, she made do. Unexpected child? Unexpected room.
“I’ll be right there,” (Y/N) said, tying the now-cleaned apron around her waist, checking herself in the reflection of her water pitcher. “Damned hair,” her fingers moved to tuck a loose ringlet back into position—she had spent the better part of the evening trying to style it.
“We need to load the carriage and make way to Bridgerton House,” her father repeated, smoothing his formalwear out. He hardly had the chance to wear it, seeing as situations like this happen only once in a while. “We must make a good impression, perhaps we’ll find more business this evening.”
“That’ll be a blessing,” her mother agreed, heading down the stairs to the bakery. “We could always use more business and the dowager viscountess is well liked around the ton, surely she’ll have pleasant things to say about our work.”
“I thought we let the pastries ‘speak for themselves’,” (Y/N) chimed in, carefully picking up a parcel. Her parents simply glared at her, allowing their daughter to silently move along with the loading process.
The silence continued throughout the lengthy ride to Bridgerton House—the bakers not uttering a word until disembarking to unload all of the sweets. True to her original thought, the Bridgertons had their staff do the bulk of the unloading, carrying each parcel and box into the grand room that was to be the heart of the ball, all that was left to move was the elegant cake specially ordered by the dowager viscountess.
“Do you need a hand?”
“Oh, that would be—” (Y/N) turned around to the mysterious voice, only to find the same Bridgerton boy from earlier in the week standing behind her. “I—Mr. Bridgerton, I’m sure I can find my father to assist, you really don’t need to—”
“I insist,” Benedict held up his hand, effectively cutting her off. “I shouldn’t allow a lady to carry such a thing on her own, it would be most improper.”
“I’m certainly no lady,” she scoffed, readjusting her apron. “I’m not a part of your ‘season’ or whatever it is you lot do during the spring and summer months.”
Benedict barked out a laugh. “Debuted into the Marriage Mart or not, you’re still a lady and I am ever the gentleman, so please, indulge me.”
A blinding heat flushed across her cheeks—she was sure it was visible from down the street. (Y/N) stepped to the side to allow Benedict to grab ahold of one side of the tray, her hands curling around the other. “Thank you… for your help.”
“It’s no bother,” Benedict said truthfully. “I’ve been practically bored out of my skull all afternoon, this is truly the highlight of my evening.”
“Helping me carry a cake?” She asked, turning a corner carefully.
“Seeing you again,” he hummed unabashedly, noting the way her grip stiffened. “Though I must say, I think I prefer you without the flour.”
“How do you know that girl was me? I was covered head to toe.”
“Your eyes,” Benedict said simply. “They’re the most expressive and exquisite eyes I’ve had the pleasure of viewing.”
Benedict Bridgerton. The man who made her speechless.
“That, and I made a bold assumption when I saw you and the pastries arrive this evening.” He laughed lightly, afraid to drop the masterpiece. “I assumed correctly, no?”
“You,” (Y/N) tried to allow her cheeks to cool before continuing.“Would be correct. Very wise you are, Mr. Bridgerton.”
“Benedict.”
“Benedict,” she repeated softly, twisting herself to set the cake down on the table. “My apologies.”
The ballroom was grand—much nicer than any place she’d dream of residing in—delicate decorations hung from the sconces, flowers covered nearly every inch of the free space. It was, in every meaning, elegant. “This is… where you live?”
“Ah,” Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “My brother has been kind to allow me to stay here since he married, seeing as I only have my own property in the country. But yes, this is one of the homes I grew up in.”
“One of the homes,” she repeated back to him. “And here I thought I was spoiled with my broom closet.”
He turned a vibrant shade of red. “Oh! I didn't mean to—”
Her laughter filled the ballroom, the lightness practically lifting Benedict upwards. “I was merely teasing. I’m well aware of your status and wealth, Mr. Bridgerton—”
“Benedict.”
“Ah! Sorry,” (Y/N) felt the twinge of shame hit her chest, it was small but enough to keep her in line to avoid making the mistake again. “I meant it in jest.”
“Funny girl,” Benedict clicked, waving his finger lightly. “You’ve got quite a sense of humor.”
“Growing up with nothing more than sacks of flour and parcels of sugar allows one to get creative with her jokes,” she explained carefully, treading lightly as to not make it sound completely miserable. “Though, I think they were a better audience anyhow…”
“You wound me,” a hand grabbed his heart, knees buckling towards the ground. “Oh how the lady wounds me.”
“I believe I told you, Benedict, I certainly am no lady.”
“Well, the lady has neglected to give me her name,” he peeked up from the floor—having found quite a cozy position. “So how else should I address such a fair maiden?”
“Fair maiden,” she scoffed playfully, voice barely above a whisper. “Certainly am nothing close to a maiden… but, if you must know,” she paused, “my name is (Y/N), (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”
“(Y/N)…” Benedict repeated it, mostly to himself. He rose from the floor, eyes not leaving her own. “What a beautiful name.”
“I—thank you. I suppose you should give my parents such a compliment, though. I am simply the recipient of such a gift.”
“Well, when I ask your parents for permission to court their daughter, I’ll pass the message along.”
She froze.
“Ah, what was that?”
“I hate to be so bold,” Benedict sighed, shoving a hand into his pocket. “But I feel the need to let you know of my intentions—my interest in you.”
“Oh you must be mistaken,” (Y/N) shook her head. “You’d want nothing to do with a girl like me. Surely there are other women in the ton who strike your fancy?”
“Nope,” he said simply. “Not a one. You, on the other hand, with your striking eyes and seemingly endless beauty, piqued my interest. If I may be honest, I haven’t stopped thinking about our encounter in the alley—it’s been on the forefront of my mind for days.”
She blinked, the gears in her head trying to keep up with the words Benedict was speaking. “But I am not from your world, Benedict. Even if I was interested in pursuing a courtship—”
“Are you not?” His eyes struck wide open. “I’m quite the catch, you see. Well-bred, scholarly and, if I might say so myself, I’m quite the talented artist. Easy on the eyes, too.”
“Benedict.” He stopped and looked at the woman. She was practically glowing in the candlelight. “While I’m not saying I’m… not interested, I can’t help but feel like you are infatuated with the idea of me and not… me.”
“How do you mean?”
She laughed humorlessly. “You don’t know me, truly. My likes, dislikes, how I take my tea, what weather I fancy—”
“See,” Benedict grabbed her hand, “I wish to know those things. Is that not the purpose of a courtship?”
“I am not from your world, Benedict. I have priorities, a duty to my family and our business—I can’t spend a moment thinking of the frivolity of a courtship with a man of your status.”
“But if I were, say, the butcher’s son it would be different?”
“Yes,” she removed her hand from his. “Of course it would be. I’m surprised you haven’t thought this through.”
“I have been thinking it through since we’ve met,” Benedict nearly spat, feeling anger bubble up in his chest. “I am not the type of man who wishes to court just anyone, you know.”
“So you wish to court me just because you can? Because how ever could I say no?”
“I—of course not!”
“We’re perfect strangers who shared a moment—albeit an endearing one—out in the middle of an alley. We both cleaned up and went about our lives,” she shook her head. “Nothing cosmic or magical about it.”
“I did not expect you to be so against the idea, unless… there’s another man of your affections?”
She groaned, pinching her nose. “No. No other man. Has a woman ever said no to you before, Mr. Bridgerton?”
He paused, clearly taken aback.
“Well,” she smoothed the tablecloth, the wrinkle in the bottom corner was annoying her, “let me be the first, then. No, I am not interested in a courtship, nor do I think I have any interest in a courtship—with you or anyone—so do not take it terribly too personally.”
“Never? Don’t you plan to have a family of your own?”
“I already have a family,” she said simply. “I have no time for foolish ideas of having an adoring husband, three beautiful babies and a peaceful life out in the country.”
“That seems awfully specific—”
“No matter,” she waved. “Thank you for your interest, Mr. Bridgerton, I am flattered, truly.”
She walked away, hoping to hide in the carriage the rest of the night. Was she a fool? To turn down a courtship from such a sophisticated and notable man of the ton?
Benedict seemed to think so. True to her comment, he couldn’t recall a time in which a woman had rejected his advances—never in the name of a courtship, this would be his first—so to watch her walk away stung deeply, like a thorn to his heart. He was genuinely interested in the girl, he knew it. He just needed to prove it to her.
—
Days had passed since the Bridgerton ball and (Y/N) had successfully faked a stomach ache and ‘rested’ in the carriage until the night was over and done with. She was busy in the kitchen, working hard on a batch of fresh loaves for the storefront. Flour dusted her apron—the humor not lost on her—as she thought more and more about Benedict’s proposal.
The bell to the shop rang out, her brother’s voice gave a muffled greeting, nothing out of the ordinary for a regular day at the bakery. It was calming, to work with the dough, taking virtually nothing and creating something delicious was soothing to her soul. She continued to knead the dough, working it like clay against her palms before the door to the back swung wide open.
“(Y/N), I do believe you have a visitor,” Harry, her second eldest brother smirked. He had finally recovered enough to help around the shop again, much to their mother’s delight. “One of the gentlemen variety, if you must know.”
She stopped dead in her tracks.
“Did he give you a name?”
“Only asked for you,” Harry shrugged. “I figured you must’ve been expecting him,” he walked closer to her, taking over the kneading, “brought you flowers and looks rather fancy.”
She wiped her hands off on the already soiled apron, clapping her hands once for good measure. “Don’t over-work those, I’ll shove your face into the oven.”
Harry’s laugh rang out through the kitchen as she braved the door to the store. She knew it was inevitable, to expect him to come and try to woo her again, though she wasn’t expecting it so soon. The door felt rough against her palms, swinging wide open to the storefront. Sure enough, a one Benedict Bridgerton was standing by the counter, eyeing the various loaves on display.
“Ah, Miss. (Y/L/N),” Benedict said, almost bowing. “I’m delighted you could join me.”
“Mr. Bridgerton,” (Y/N) smiled sickeningly sweet, forced beyond all measure. “What a… surprise.”
“A wonderful one, I presume?” He jested. Her eyes found the colorful bouquet quickly, she was trying her hardest to not make eye contact. It was ornate—fancy, just like her brother said—decked out in a healthy mix of wild blooms and expensive looking flowers. “Ah! My apologies, these are for you,” Benedict said, lifting the bouquet across the counter.
She reluctantly took them, cradling the bunch as if it were a newborn babe. “Thank you, Mr. Bridgerton.”
He swallowed thickly at the formality of his name, but bit his tongue. “I must say, you looked exquisite at the ball, but I think your natural element suits you more favorably, why, you’re practically glowing.” Benedict pointed to her floured apron and messy frock, having been in the kitchen all morning. “Less flour than the first time.”
Her grip tightened around the bouquet. “Is there anything I can help you with? Perhaps another order for your mother?”
The man shook his head, laughing lightly. “No, no order. I just wished to see you.” The bluntness of his answer nearly shocked her, but the effect wore quickly.
“Perhaps I wished the opposite?”
“Oh, my dear,” Benedict practically mewled. “If that were true, you wouldn’t have come out here in the first place, now would you?”
Like a gaping trout, she had no reply. Perhaps he was right. She didn’t have to come out to the front of the store, the gnawing curiosity got the better of her and practically pulled her through that door.
“If you are here to try to get me to change my mind—”
“I wish to spend the afternoon with you.”
She blinked.
“Just one afternoon, allow me to try and prove how serious I am about courting you,” Benedict said earnestly. “After that, if you are still of the same mind, I will never bother you again. You have my word.”
Hesitantly, she lowered the bouquet, her shoulders slumping. She was thinking so hard about his offer, Benedict swore he could see steam rising from her ears. “I… cannot just leave the bakery, it’s my family’s livelihood—”
“I’ll buy the lot,” Benedict said, pressing a handful of coins onto the counter top. “Sell me whatever it is you make in a day—a small price to pay for a moment of your time.”
“You cannot simply throw your money at things and expect it to always work out for you, Mr. Bridgerton,” she said sternly, eyeing the sack of coins longingly. She would be kidding herself if the offer didn’t sound appealing. “I am no woman on the corner, you cannot buy my time.”
“Then consider it a tip,” Benedict hummed, pushing the bag closer to her. “For your excellent service at the Bridgerton ball. Nothing nefarious, nothing expected of you. Just a man buying some bread.”
“Loads of bread,” (Y/N) mumbled, quickly calculating how many loaves he truly was willing to walk out with. The amount of money was unclear, but if she had to wager, he practically bought out the whole storefront. Her parents would be thrilled—they could even take a rare day off, just because their daughter spent the afternoon with a practical stranger. “Fine. One afternoon.”
The glee that washed across his body did not go unnoticed, he practically lit up the room with his joy.
“You won’t regret this,” he said seriously. “Trust that my intentions are pure and—”
“—honest and true,” she droned, finishing his thought. “Yes, yes, I understand.”
Benedict nodded. “Right. Well, shall we?”
“Will you allow me a moment to change? I do not think you wish to spend your day with a girl caked in flour.”
“Funny enough, I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he grinned. She was unamused. “But, if you insist.”
It didn’t take long for her to clean up, a change in her frock and a readjustment to her hair was all that was needed. She found herself staring in her mirror a bit longer than usual, taking in her features. Could he really be interested in her? He seemed so taken by her looks when she herself considered them… so plain. She shook her head, effectively jumping out of her haze and proceeded to head back downstairs to meet her suitor for the afternoon.
“Perhaps you were right,” Benedict said softly. “This may be your best look to date.”
A heat warmed her cheeks and it wasn’t the summer sun. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Bridgerton—”
“Ah!” Benedict waved a finger. “If we are to spend the afternoon together, I insist you call me by my given name.”
Her lips pressed together in protest. “If you insist—”
“Oh and I do, my darling,” Benedict nearly sang.
“Benedict,” she corrected. “What sorts of plans do you have for this afternoon? Surely you did not produce such a grand gesture only to leave our day up to chance.”
“I am feeling quite parched,” Benedict said, almost ignoring her comment. “Care for a spot of tea?” In their walk down the street, he had managed to stop right in front of a quaint little tea shop. She hardly noticed.
“And if I do not care for tea?”
“I hear they have excellent scones and biscuits,” Benedict countered. “Surely not sweeter than you, but delicious all the same.”
“Sweeter than my scones, you mean?”
Benedict raised a brow, puckering his lips lightly. She heard him correctly the first time. “So. Tea?”
They sat at a small table near the back of the shop, a hot pot of herbal tea sat between them. It looked entirely domestic, a pot of tea shared between lovers, any onlooker could have deduced as much.
“Pass the honey?” (Y/N) pointed to the small jar next to Benedict’s hand. He nodded and pushed it closer to her.
“You take your tea with honey?” He probed.
“Herbal tea, yes,” she confirmed, stirring a spoonful into her cup. “If it is black tea, a healthy amount of milk is entirely welcomed in my drink, no sugar.”
“Interesting,” Benedict said, watching her intently stir the honey until it dissolved into the hot liquid. “I prefer plain black tea myself, though occasionally my brother Colin will bring exquisite teas from his travels across the seas.”
“And Colin is which brother?” The question slipped out quickly, she hardly noticed she had asked.
“One of my two younger brothers,” Benedict smiled gently. “Not much younger than I, but I do have a few years on him, not as many as I have on Gregory, of course. He’s practically the babe of the family—save for sweet Hyacinth.”
“Eight children…” She thought aloud. “Were your parents working towards a record number?”
“I always jest that they wished to complete the entire alphabet,” Benedict mused. “But, alas, twenty six seems a bit much.” He took a sip of his tea, enjoying the lingering aroma. “So, you know there are eight of us?”
“Everyone knows your family,” she said simply. “Do not flatter yourself.”
“Of course,” he hummed into his cup, a smile brewing from his lips. “You have siblings, yes? I believe I met your brother earlier.”
“Two older brothers,” (Y/N) groaned lightly. “Jack and Harry, the latter being the one you met. They are… oh how do I put this? Exceptionally irritating.”
Benedict laughed into his drink. “Sounds quite a lot like my siblings.”
“My parents expect Jack to take over the bakery,” she explained quietly, her voice lowering. “But he has no desire to bake whatsoever. He can hardly make a sponge cake.”
“And a sponge cake is…?”
“One of the most basic cake recipes a baker can learn,” she continued. “I usually end up being the one who pulls the slack Jack creates.”
“And Harry?”
“When he isn’t galavanting across town with the ladies of the night, he is holed up in his room doing Lord knows what. Certainly nothing that helps the family business.”
“You care a lot about your family and the business,” Benedict said, stating what is clearly the obvious. “Surely your parents see it too?”
“Oh no,” she shook her head wildly. “That is the most asinine part of the ordeal! They simply do not see me as an asset to the bakery—something that should rightfully be mine should the time come.” She sighed, throwing her head into her hands. “But, I am expected to keep my head down and decorate cakes like a good girl.”
“You say that as if you are their pet,” Benedict scoffed lightly. “Do they truly expect such obedience from you?”
“I wasn’t wanted,” she said simply. “My parents merely wanted a son to take over the business—Jack, he’s the oldest. Good for nothing, as it turns out. Harry was to have an extra set of hands around the bakery, but now he’s their prodigal child. Me? I was shacked with an over glorified closet for a room because there truly was no space for me.” She sniffled. “At least they got a decorator out of it.”
Benedict tentatively put his hand on her shoulder, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “You’re more than a decorator. Surely your parents see that too?”
“They’ll see some use of me when I get home,” she said into her cup. “Seeing as you bought out our store just to spend a measly few hours with me. I’m sure that in of itself is worth having an accidental daughter.”
Benedict all but scoffed at this. “You cannot be serious.”
“Not everyone comes from loving families that wish to do nothing more than pop out babies left and right,” (Y/N) deadpanned, placing her cup back on the table. “If it were truly up to my parents, they would’ve stopped after Jack. But, much like the society you come from, an heir and a spare, I suppose.”
“And you?” Benedict almost felt afraid to ask.
“It’s like you said,” she finished her cup of tea. “I am simply a pet.”
Benedict was never one for fights, but he suddenly had the urge to put his fist through a handful of faces in that moment. “That’s awful.” It was all he could say.
“That’s life,” she shrugged, picking up a biscuit and examining it closely. Her nose scrunched. “If you were trying to gain my favor, perhaps you should’ve taken me somewhere with better biscuits. It’s insulting to a baker to see such poorly made ones, especially in a place like this.”
He knew she was trying to change the subject. “I shall do better next time.”
“Yes, I suppose you—” she stopped. “That was a rotten trick and you know it.”
“I am certainly no magician, (Y/N),” Benedict finished his tea, hiding the most devilish of smiles from behind the cup. “But seeing as we’re finished with our pot, perhaps we can take a turn about the park?”
“You’d risk public outcry and a scandal for being seen with a commoner in the park?” (Y/N) asked, pulling herself from her seat. “What would Lady Whistledown say?”
“You know of Lady Whistledown?”
“Everyone knows of Lady Whistledown,” she scoffs. “I may not have the pleasure to afford her column every time she publishes, but occasionally our regulars will leave their pamphlet for me once they’re finished.”
“Only read the good bits, I take it?”
“As much as I don’t understand the world you come from, Benedict, reading Whistledown helps me fill the gaps I am so obviously lacking. Truly, even if I did grow up in your society, I doubt I’d be able to understand much more than I do now anyway.”
“I reckon you’re right,” Benedict said, a laugh escaping through his nose. “I’m not one for society anyway—never cared much for it.”
“Surely news of this would cause a scandal, though?”
“News that I am simply walking in the park with a friend? Oh how the newsboys will have trouble selling that story,” Benedict mused, leaning down towards the lady. “Perhaps if we were seen doing something less proper, I suppose. Do you wish to be doing something less proper, (Y/N)?”
She didn’t dignify his question with a response, though, the rouge on her cheeks was answer enough.
—
It only took a handful of minutes to walk to the park, the tea shop was so close already. How convenient.
The other ladies in the park, the ones of a more genteel breeding, they were dressed finer than anything (Y/N) could have put on. She felt out of place. She usually did, of course, but something about her outdated frock in contrast to how striking Benedict looked and dressed? It felt rather foolish.
Perhaps it was the notoriety of the Bridgerton walking beside her, or the self consciousness of being underdressed enough to catch the eyes of anyone walking past, but it felt like she was a spectacle—something in a museum or on display. She was holding bright light, nearly shouting at everyone that she was not enough, not worthy to be in this park, let alone with this man.
“I am tired of walking,” (Y/N) said suddenly.
“We have only just begun,” he laughed. “But if you require a respite—”
“Let’s sit,” (Y/N) said just as quickly, practically running to the edge of the pond. Perfectly out of sight to everyone.
“How secluded,” Benedict mused. “I daresay, I never thought you’d be so agreeable—”
“Hush,” (Y/N) admonished, holding a finger up. “I am simply in need of a break—away from prying eyes.”
Benedict nodded, not daring to pry further. He watched her slump to the ground, her dress skirt billowing around her like a cloud before settling to the gravity. He continued to stand. “I rather like this park.”
“A park is a park.”
“Have you been before?”
“Here?” She shook her head. “Obviously not.”
“My family, we would come to London during the social season,” Benedict explained. “Our usual residence is out in Kent—anyhow, my father had this spectacular notion to come to the park every week as a family. Looking back, it was probably to save face and show a united Bridgerton front.”
She looked up at Benedict, who was currently plucking a few leaves off of the low hanging branches of the tree. “Sounds wise.”
“He was the wisest,” Benedict agreed. “Keeping the ever-growing number of Bridgerton children entertained became a sport. Anthony, Colin and I were always squabbling, drove my mother rightfully insane, so, my father had a bright idea.”
“Paste your lips together?” She offered.
Benedict knelt down, close to the edge of the water. “No, but I do not doubt that idea crossed their minds,” he laughed, bringing the leaves in his hands to view, “my father suggested racing.”
“Horse racing?”
He shook his head. “We’d each pick a leaf and follow it to the other edge of the pond—kept us entertained for hours, running back and forth to reset our leaves and chase them down.”
“Smart man,” she hummed, genuinely impressed by the late viscount’s cleverness.
“So, pick your contender,” Benedict said softly, displaying the spare leaves like cards in a deck.
“You are serious?”
“Dead serious, I’m afraid,” Benedict clicked, pushing his hand a bit closer to her. “Come on, humor me.”
She looked down at the leaves and back up at Benedict, his blue eyes rivaling the color of the pond. Taking an interest in the middle leaf—it was the longest and skinniest—she plucked it from his fingers. “This one.”
“Excellent choice,” Benedict said cheerily, dropping the other leaves. “I am more inclined to a smaller one—seems they move faster down the shore.”
“Size isn’t everything, Mr. Bridgerton,” (Y/N) crossed her arms, resting them on her knees. She would never dare to admit it out loud, but she was having a bit of fun.
“Ah, perhaps not,” Benedict jested with her, her jab not even shocking him in the slightest. “But, I reckon it will be a close match regardless.”
After insuring that the lovely lady in his company was watching his movements closely, he set the leaves down on the surface of the water. “Finish line is by that tree over there,” he pointed, finally letting go with his other hand.
“May the best leaf win,” she giggled. Giggled? Good Lord. A crooked grin cracked on his face, focused too intently at the company rather than the match at hand. “Are you not going to chase them?”
“And leave you?” He scoffed. “Perish the thought.”
“I just thought,” her gaze was caught on the leaves, still floating down the edge of the pond—slower than she anticipated, “well, I suppose I wanted to get the whole picture of your family tradition.”
“Shall I run along the coast, then?” Benedict asked playfully, rising back to his feet, thumb pushed towards the water.
“Only to humor me,” she shrugged, not even fighting the smile on her face.
“Well, in that case,” Benedict began to remove his jacket, throwing it beside her. With a light jog he caught up to the leaves, they hadn’t gone very far anyway, perhaps if it were a windier day he’d have a faster time to keep up with. “You are in the lead!” He called out.
“Brilliant!” Her hands were clasped around her mouth, a cone to help amplify her shout. His smile was like the sun, warm and inviting—she wished she could spend the day in such a warmth. Benedict practically jumped for joy when the leaves made it to the final stretch, crossing to the rocks on the shore. Nearly falling into the water, he managed to scoop the leaves up and jog back to the woman in the grass. “Well?”
“Well, what?” He asked, nearly out of breath, smile still pulling his lips upward.
“The winner?”
“Ah,” he fell to the ground, sitting comfortably next to the baker’s daughter, pocketing the leaves. “A secret.”
“So you lost?”
“Oh, I assure you, if you won I would be celebrating you until the end of our time together,” Benedict sang. “However…”
“I lost?” She scoffed.
“A gentleman is humble in his successes,” he explained carefully. “We could go again?”
“No,” she said, humor in her voice. “I think that was more than enough excitement for one afternoon.”
“For once, we agree,” he said. “May I…? Could I ask you a question?”
“If you are proposing marriage, I am afraid I’ll have to decline—”
“No, no,” he laughed heartily. “Nothing of that sort.”
“I suppose I could find it in myself to answer a different question, then.”
“You were cold to me this morning,” Benedict noted, twirling a blade of grass between his fingers. “But not on the day we met. What changed?”
She sighed, pulling her knees to her chest, gaze locked out on the now setting sun. “I… am not entirely sure.”
“Surely it was not the leaves—”
“The leaves may have helped,” she admitted. “Humanized you, in a way.”
“Was I inhuman before?”
“Naturally,” she retorted. “I mean, is it not obvious?”
“You were protecting your feelings,” Benedict finally realized. “All this time. You did not wish to be hurt—truly afraid I was merely stringing you along as an elaborate prank or ruse? Is that right?”
“How could someone like you ever have an interest in a pauper like me? The baker’s daughter and the son of a viscount?” Tears dotted her eyes, threatening to fall. How she came so close to crying was beyond her. “It seems implausible.”
Benedict dropped the grass, fully looking at the lady beside him. She had made herself nearly as small as she felt. He had hit the nail on the head. A gust of wind blew by, bringing leaves down from the tree above.
“I do not think less of you because of whose daughter you are,” Benedict said softly, removing a stray leaf from her hair. His fingers guided her head towards him, begging for her to look his way. “I care only about you. Getting to know you. Frankly, your father seems like a mostly alright man, but I do not wish to know him the way I wish to know you.”
“You may wish for that,” she sniffled. “But what would the rest of your world think? You, trying to court a woman below your status—”
“The only people who should be caring so deeply about my potential courtship are my intended and me,” Benedict said sharply. “The rest of the ton can frankly kiss my rear end.”
This raised a laugh out of her. It was bubbly and pure, almost like the one of a child. “You truly don’t care what people think about you?”
“No,” he shook his head. “I do not.”
“How freeing that must be,” she said.
“Being the second son has its perks,” Benedict looked at her, really looked at her. “No one expects me to be proper all the time. I am given the freedom—financially and otherwise—to do as I please. I do not have to worry about inheriting a title, siring heirs, that is my brother’s responsibility.”
“Why me?”
His head quirked. “I do not understand?”
“You could court any girl of the ton,” she said. “And I am sure more than half of them would never turn down a chance to be courted by a Bridgerton—”
“They wished for the title,” Benedict sighed. “To be Viscountess Bridgerton, to marry my older brother and have the notoriety. That ship has already sailed, I'm afraid. You are kind in thinking that many women would be after me though.”
“You are not ugly,” she listed, “you have a great humor about you, a pleasant demeanor and a kindness in your eyes. The women of the ton must be foolish, then.”
“Perhaps the foolish one is you?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You truly think those things about me?” He asked, awaiting a response. Her jaw was slack, clearly not about to give him any sort of confirmation to his question. “I believe your words, I do. But perhaps you should look at yourself with such eyes?”
“I-I don’t understand—”
“Our class differences aside,” Benedict said, as if it was easy to just ignore that, “while I was taken by your beauty at first—your eyes are something the Gods themselves forged in the fires, stars rivaling their shine—it was your continuous personality that kept my attention. Granted, it helped you were once covered head-to-toe in flour, it really brought out your features.”
Her cheeks flared at the recollection of their first meeting. “It was not my finest moment.”
“And you were vulnerable all the same,” he continued. “You cared not for who I was, yet, you showed an interest in me anyway. You may not agree with that statement, but you and I know it to be true in some shape or form. The only thing that holds you back is this notion on our classes—”
“Perhaps I am interested in you,” (Y/N) cut him off. “Perhaps I wish to be courted by you, attend balls and dress in pretty gowns, drinking expensive drinks and whispering sweet nothings. But that is all that it is—a wish. I know my place in this world, it is a right shame you have such a fantasy about yours.”
“(Y/N)…”
“No,” she stood up, brushing the blades of grass and leaves off of her skirt. “I hoped that you would understand, Benedict. I agreed to this afternoon because it felt like I had no choice in the matter—you practically bought my time, after all. What I did not expect,” she hiccuped, “I did not expect that I would enjoy such an afternoon.”
“You enjoyed yourself,” Benedict rose to his feet, desperate to match her gaze head on. “Why can you not allow yourself to have that joy? Allow your heart to follow its call?”
“I do not have such liberties to listen to my heart,” (Y/N) said softly. “I must use my head for every choice I make. An afternoon with you allowed my family to have enough money to make it through the end of the season without going hungry—”
“And an afternoon with me has brought such happiness to fill your soul for much longer—”
“Happiness has little importance,” she scoffed. “I would rather see my family healthy and surviving than even think about a notion like happiness or joy.”
“You have said yourself that your family treats you like a pet,” Benedict took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. He needn’t explode in the park. “Why do you care so much about them if they care so little for you?”
“Because it is all that I know!” The candle had finally reached its end, burning out with a sizzle. “All I have ever known is my life in the bakery, rising early to make the dough, peddling samples to those walking by and hoping—praying—that they step in our store and purchase something. Because a sale of a few loaves of bread or cakes meant we could afford to buy vegetables for a soup, something to eat with our days old bread.”
“If you were with me, you wouldn’t ever need to think about things like that again,” Benedict said, his voice wavering on a whisper. “I could support you, support your family.”
“And that is precisely why I do not wish to continue this,” she raised her finger. “I do not need an affluent man to come and save me—”
“But I could help—”
“I do not need your help!”
“You obviously do!”
She took a step back, the tears from before finally reappearing in her eyes. “O-obviously? Because I am of a lower class you believe, in that giant and empty head of yours, that you can simply win my favor by saving me? Offering riches and experiences that I should be grateful and thanking every God that will listen that you are even willing to give me?”
“You know that is not what I meant—”
“You believe that because you are who you are, and I am who I am, that I couldn’t possibly say no to you,” her gaze flicked with anger, a fire looming. “While the ladies of the ton have their choices, I do not, so it makes it easy for you to pine over someone who simply has no choice in the matter.”
“No—(Y/N)—”
“This afternoon has been lovely,” (Y/N) spat, looking to the skyline—the sun had finally set, “but I am afraid that the afternoon is over. I shall be taking my leave.”
“Please reconsider,” Benedict begged, willing to try anything to get her to stay. “I wish to know you.”
“A shame, then,” (Y/N) said, turning around. “Wishing for something so foolish.”
—
“Her head is in the clouds,” Jack whispered.
“No, I reckon her head is in the dough,” Harry mumbled back to his brother.
“I can hear you, you know,” (Y/N) ground out, working hard on a rather unruly clump of dough that simply would not cooperate. “And if I can hear you, you are close enough to be helping.”
“But that is so exhausting," Harry groaned, leaning against the countertop. “Besides, how are you ever going to impress your betrothed if you do not keep such toned arms?”
She threw the dough against the counter—hard. “He is not my betrothed.”
“But you wish for him to be, no?” Jack giggled, playing with a few burnt buns—a mishap of his own creation.
“I say, Sister,” Harry said. “Why do you not pursue that Bridgerton? He clearly is interested in you, or, have you forgotten all of the flowers he has sent?”
The front of the shop was practically a florist’s dream—covering every free inch of counter space with beautiful bouquets. Her mother simply refused to throw out such lovely blooms, even going so far as to fish the first one out of the trash after her daughter made quick work to dispose of it. “How could I possibly forget about the man who continuously flaunts his wealth to get what he wants?”
“He wants you, surely that is not lost on you?”
“Of course not,” she continued to knead, a few hairs falling into her face. “But he is so insistent on getting me to agree to his whims simply because—”
“He has money, (Y/N),” Jack scoffed. “Good money. Christ, you spent half of a day with him a few weeks ago and we were able to finally purchase meat for dinner. Imagine if you married him—”
“So you want your sister to be married off for your own financial gain?”
“What else would you marry for?” Harry laughed. “Love?”
She stopped kneading. “Why do you not go and try to marry a wealthy lady, then? Hm? Surely a woman of genteel breeding would be much taken by the idea of a rugged baker—”
“That Bridgerton is already interested,” Harry shrugged. “At the very least, if you end up with child he would provide enough funds—”
“First you wish to marry me off, now you wish for me to have his bastard?” She couldn’t help but laugh, ignoring her hard work on the counter. “Why can I not make my own choice? I do not wish to be with Mr. Bridgerton, I wish to stay here at the bakery.”
“Fucking stupid,” Jack scoffed. “If I were in your shoes, I would let the gentleman pay for anything my heart desires—forget about this wretched place and move on with my life.”
“And abandon our legacy?”
“You mean my legacy,” Jack corrected. “I am to inherit the bakery, it is my birthright. You? I suppose I will allow you to continue your grunt work here—”
“Who else will do the baking?” Her voice rang throughout the kitchen. “Mother and Father are nearing the end of their career, both becoming too frail to continue with the rigorous task of this place. I am the only one—the only competent member of this family who can keep this shit afloat! And you want me to just… give that up?”
Jack stood a little straighter. “It was never your place.”
“Harry is set to inherit the bakery now, you know it. Yet someone had to fill the shoes of the family fuck-up instead, no?”
It was a sharp pain, suddenly and all at once against her cheek. It took her only half a second later to realize what had happened, her other brother’s face was only a confirmation on the fact.
“Jack, what the hell?!” Harry practically screamed. “You hit her?”
“She insulted me!”
“You deserved it,” Harry said, pushing his older brother back. “She only spoke the truth—”
“So I am allowed to be walked over by my baby sister?” Jack scoffed, pushing Harry back. “A woman? No fucking chance, mate.”
Her hand had covered her cheek, already feeling warm to the touch. Everything was too much, too loud, too bright. She had to get out of there, had to forget all about the dough on the counter, forgetting all about the brother who had just smacked her silly. The back door wasn’t locked—no surprise as Jack was the last one to use it—making it easy for her to push into the alleyway and into the rain.
Rain.
Pelting like bullets, the wet drenched her clothing in a mere instant, making it harder to escape. Where had she planned to run anyway? She had nowhere to go, her entire world was contained to the four walls of the bakery, never daring to explore the rest of it, not when her world was already so encompassing, so inviting.
In theory, anyway, it seemed.
So, she ran. A mix of running and walking, she kept moving forward. By the time she left her part of town, she knew her brothers would not bother coming for her. The rain alone was a deterrent, even Harry, the one who loved her more, wouldn’t dare to brave the elements just to reel his sister’s whims in.
A splotch of purple entered her vision. How long had she been moving? Did she even expect to come here? Did her subconscious send her in this direction for a reason?
She knocked on the bright door before she could find out.
“Good evening, ma’am,” a butter said politely. “What business do you have?”
“I am here to call upon Benedict Bridgerton.”
—
His quill had soaked the parchment below with ink, having left the tip upon it for far too long. He had been lost in thought, contemplative, especially the last few weeks. Benedict knew he had hurt her, had insulted her very being, yet he still tried. Every other day he’d send a fresh bouquet to the bakery, a new poem attached to the stems. Perhaps she read them? He knew it was more likely that she burned them, in the ovens or otherwise.
At the very least, he knew that the blooms were being displayed at the shop. Hope. That is what it had given him.
“Mr. Bridgerton, you have a caller,” a butler knocked, opening his door a crack wider.
“A caller? In this weather?”
“She seemed rather insistent,” the butler shrugged. “She is waiting in the drawing room—I already sent for tea and towels for the lady.”
“A lady is here to see me?” Benedict quirked his brow.
“A Miss. (Y/L/N),” the butler said. “No calling card, soaked to the bone and she seemed a bit… out of sorts.”
Benedict had already risen from his desk, practically pushing past the staff member to reach the stairs. Missing a step or two, he made it to the drawing room and shoved the door open. In the center of the blue room was (Y/N), dripping onto the wooden floor, shaking like a leaf.
“(Y/N)…”
“I-I had nowhere else to go,” she began to explain. “I did not even realize I was here until I knocked on the door. It was foolish—”
“No,” Benedict shook his head, reaching to take her hand in his own. “It is quite alright. You are more than welcome to be here.”
His hands were warm, or perhaps she was just that cold, making them feel like a fire. “I am so sorry, Benedict.”
“For what?” He asked genuinely.
“Everything?” She offered. “I-I am not sure of what, exactly, but I feel that I need to apologize.”
“You needn’t apologize for anything,” he said. “Not with me, not ever.”
She looked up at the ceiling, afraid to make contact with his blue stare. “I needed to get away. My brother he—Jack hit me.”
Benedict froze, his entire body went rigid. “I’ll kill him.”
“I suppose I deserved it,” she shrugged, now looking at the ground. “Talking back to him, assuming things that could never be—”
“A man has assaulted you,” Benedict squeezed her hand tighter. “Brother or not, he put his hands on you. You did nothing of the sort to deserve such a thing.”
“I don’t think I can go back there,” (Y/N) said softly. “Perhaps this was just the moment that gave me clarity. Opened my eyes, so to speak.”
Benedict took a good look at her face, red and splotchy, whether it was from the smack or the tears, he could not tell. “Tea is on the way, I shall request a cold compress for your cheek—”
“I do not wish to impose.”
“You shall wish for nothing here,” Benedict said quietly, firmly. “You will stay until the rain lets up, or, you provide me with a suggestible plan for your next steps.”
“I cannot go back,” she finally looked up at Benedict. “As much as I would like to, I simply cannot.”
“If you do not want to go back, I will support you. If you want to leave town, the country even, I will support you,” he said seriously. “Please allow me to support you.”
“I could never ask you for that—”
“You are not asking, I am offering,” he clarified.
“Benedict…”
The rain seemed to lessen, if the pelting against the window had anything to say about it. The noise had dimmed, not as violent as before. “To know that you are safe, that you are cared for, that is all I care about.”
So, in the center of the blue Bridgerton drawing room, soaked to the bone and dripping all over the floor, she kissed him. It was a sudden thing, pulling him down towards her lips, the contact much quicker than she had expected. He returned the favor in kind, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight, kissing her in a way he had yet to truly experience.
If his hands were like a fire, his lips were an inferno. Fighting for dominance, it was all encompassing. How had she gone so long without a feeling such as this? The burn was coming from inside, not a superficial one atop her skin as she was quite used to, but this burn, this feeling, she could find herself craving this.
“I-I am sorry—” she pulled away.
“Never be sorry,” Benedict shook his head. “Not for that, not ever.”
“I should not have done that…”
“No,” he agreed, a chuckle leaving his lips, “but how exhilarating it felt, regardless.”
His thumb ran lazy circles on her jaw. She leaned into the touch. “I do not know what to do, where to go…”
“But you cannot stay here…?”
She smiled sadly. “You know me scarily well, Benedict.”
He thought for a moment. “So… leave.”
“Excuse me?”
“Leave town, leave the country—”
“I do not have the means to do such a silly thing.”
“I will pay your way.”
She scoffed, trying to pull out of his embrace. He wouldn’t release his grip. “Benedict…”
“I told you, I wish to support you. Emotionally, financially, I want to be there for you,” Benedict said. “Even if we are not—if you do not want to be together romantically, I want to ensure your safety and your health, your well-being. A friend.”
She tried to find the lie in his eyes, in his tone. Coming up empty, she had no excuse to not believe him.
“France,” he said, as if struck by lightning.
“France?”
“I hear only the expert bakers study in France—I have no doubts you could go to learn,” he explained. “I could pay for your travel, housing, you name it. Ask for it, and it is yours.”
“I doubt anyone would want to teach a woman, no matter how lovely a thought it might be.”
“I have a cousin,” Benedict explained. “Her and her husband own a café—I am quite certain that they would love to hire an expert baker to add to their inventory and menu. You could earn your own income, make your own way. A fresh start.”
“A fresh start…” she repeated. “That sounds too good to be true.”
“I shall write to her in the morning,” Benedict said, holding her hands again.
“And you…?”
“I will only come with you if you want me to join,” Benedict said slowly. “I will not trap you. I want your happiness, your freedom.”
She nodded, understanding.
“I think France sounds nice,” she smiled. “Will you write to me?”
“Every chance I get.”
“Even if you are vexed with me?”
“Especially if I am vexed with you.”
She kissed his lips again, sweeter and softer than the first time.
“Sounds perfect.”
—
A year. An entire year had passed and she couldn’t recall a happier time in her life. The only time that something could have rivaled it was a visit to a tea shop followed by a respite by a pond—in handsome company all the while.
They kept correspondence, just like they promised. Every week came a new letter, a new story to be told by the poetic Benedict Bridgerton. She tried to rival his words, explaining every detail about France, about her new life, but something was nagging. She missed him. They had grown close over the correspondence, leaving her heart wanting more. But, she knew when she left for France it was to fulfill her dreams, leaving a foolish notion like love on the back burner.
“(Y/N),” Marie, the Bridgerton cousin, called out behind her. “We are in need of more buns.”
“I just restocked the buns,” (Y/N) giggled, turning to the blonde. “What? Has someone mysteriously bought the lot?”
“Oui,” Marie said with a jest, heading into the storage room, “perhaps you should go bring more out?”
“You are in luck, the last batch just finished resting from the oven,” she said, carrying a tray on her shoulder, “I will bring them out with haste.”
“I am sure he will appreciate it.”
(Y/N) faltered, hand already pressed to the door leading to the front shop. A tingle ran through her spine, her heart picking up to a freeing flutter.
Could it be?
“You know, I would buy your entire stock,” the man hummed, looking thoughtfully into the display case, “but I fear I would be recreating a rather taxing memory for the both of us.”
“Benedict,” she gasped, nearly dropping her tray.
“You look radiant,” he mused, that wicked grin of his breaking on his face. “Much like the first time I saw you—covered in flour.”
“I am in my element,” (Y/N) said sweetly, “just as you would expect.” She had noticed that Marie and her husband were not in the café, the sign flipped to close. “You planned this.”
“Do you insinuate that I bribed my distant cousin to close her café to give you the day off, travel all the way to France, hoping I could spend the day with you?” Benedict scoffed playfully. “You truly do not know me at all.”
“I do not think Marie would take a bribe,” (Y/N) said slyly, knowing how much of a champion the cousin had been for the baker and viscount’s son to get together.
“She refused payment,” he admitted, agreeing with her notion. “But, was ever eager to see you get out of the kitchen and enjoy yourself.”
“You hadn’t written to me in two weeks,” (Y/N) said, walking around the counter. “I was worried.”
“I needed to refrain from our correspondence, I fear I would have let the surprise slip otherwise.”
“Smart man,” she hummed.
“I am known to be smart occasionally,” he shrugged.
“What are you doing here?” She finally asked. “N-not that I am not happy to see you, of course, but as you had said, this is a surprise.”
“I came to study art,” Benedict said, a hand in his coat pocket. “I felt that if I truly wanted to learn the craft, I needed to learn from the masters—many of their works are housed here in France. I even began to rent a little home in town, finding the need to stay a while.”
“That is the only reason?”
Benedict’s gaze softened. “Of course it is not the only reason.”
Her heart fluttered again.
“It is only fair that I try this again, correctly and without the prying eyes of society, this time,” Benedict said, clearing his throat and spinning around.
“Correctly?” She giggled, watching him twirl to face the door.
“Ah, good morning miss!” Benedict said, turning back to face (Y/N). “I must say, you look ever-so-pretty—tell me, do all bakers have a beauty such as your own?”
“I would wager no,” she said, trying to keep serious. “Most of the bakers around here are men.”
“Shame. Might I learn your name? It seems only fair—I fear I might just die if I do not know the sweet sound of it.”
“(Y/N),” she sang. “My name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”
“Benedict Bridgerton,” he stretched out his hand, reaching for her own. She allowed him to take it, a soft kiss was placed on the back of her cracked hand—a working hand, one that she was proud to have.
“You are very charming, Mr. Bridgerton,” she hummed, looking deeply into his blue eyes. “Pleased to make your company.”
“I assure you, I am more pleased to be in yours,” Benedict insisted, kissing her hand again. “Tell me, do you have plans this afternoon?”
“It seems my schedule has cleared up,” she looked to the sign on the door and sighed. “Why? Do you have any suggestions on how I should spend it?”
“Might we take a turn around the park? A friend of mine has written to me about just how lovely one nearby is, I reckon I would like to see it for myself.”
She smiled brightly at him, as if he held the world in his hands. Instead, he held two leaves between his fingers—brown and cracked, but clearly treated with such care. They had been the same ones from their time at the park the first go around, she was nearly certain. Why else would he bring dead leaves with him?
"Leaves?"
"You see, my family, we have this tradition of racing with leaves—I would very much like to share it with you. These two in particular seem to be very lucky, thought it would be best to bring them along."
His smile melted her heart, endearing and thoughtful in the same breath. She could get used to a smile like that.
“Well… what are we waiting for, Mr. Bridgerton?”
#benedict bridgerton#bridgerton#benedict bridgerton x reader#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton imagines#this is a doozy and i am sorry#but only a little bit!!!
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You mentioned in one post that bombshell!reader was furious with the team for not helping Reid with his addiction (as she should be)…. Would you maybe write about her helping him thru withdrawal or thru the cravings that follow? Maybe subtly at first, then just making sure he knew he wasn’t alone? Just some tender moments where Spencer starts to realize she actually cares about him, even if he doesn’t believe her flirting yet.
-🌕
I love every single thing you write, even for fandoms I’m not even in. You’re amazing!!
thank you for requesting my sweetheart!!! I really hope this is what you wanted, love you <3 fem!reader
cw past drug abuse
“Hi, Spencer Reid.”
You perch on the edge of his desk with no further introduction. You’ve changed perfumes, to his immediate recognition, the rich smell of your usual parfum swapped for a less consuming scent. He detects apple blossom, and rose, the smallest hint of jasmine, a contrast to your usual vanilla and peony. The human brain can remember 50,000 scents, and Spencer can remember all of yours. Or, he could.
“You’re not saying hi anymore?”
“Hi, Y/N.”
“Hi. It’s nice to see you.” You put your hand on his. Spencer isn’t sure you’ve ever touched his hand before you took it at the hospital, he’s never really let you, but he doesn’t move away. A huge winding of tension between his shoulders begins to unspool. “It’s really nice to see you, babe. I’ve missed you tons and tons.”
He looks up tentatively. “You have?”
“I have. I haven’t really been invited, today. I’m just here to see you.”
“Why?” Spencer asks.
You tighten your fingers on his hand. “Missed you. Thought maybe we should, like…” And that’s unusual, for you to use filler words, Spencer doesn’t know what to think of it. “Well, I have something to say to you, and it’s going to either sound reassuring or ridiculous.”
“Okay.”
You give him a withering look. “Don’t make it any easier for me.”
He laughs. The sound alone fosters your smile. “Sorry,” he says softly, “I doubt it’ll be ridiculous.”
“Spencer Reid, we are friends. We are. But we never do anything outside of work, so I was thinking you could come over tonight and we’d make dinner and watch TV and stuff.”
“And stuff.”
“I’m a bit nervous,” you confess, looking down at your lap, then quickly back up into his face, “I’m worried you won’t want to.”
You’re kind to avoid saying what he’s sure you’re thinking; you’re worried he won’t want to spend the night with you, and instead will look down the long barrel of a small needle. Or, he thinks that’s what you’re thinking. He does it to everyone.
“What do you want to make for dinner?” he asks.
“What are you enjoying lately?”
“I… I don’t know. I’m not really eating.”
“Cereal?”
“Yes,” he laughs. “Lots of cereal.”
You tap the wheel of his chair with your heel. You’re dressed as though you aren’t working, wearing a sweet dark dress with a starched collar and baby sleeves, stockings, and a necklace at your neck that glows with a small white crystal. You look amazing. It never makes any sense to Spencer, why you’d taken an interest in him, and why you bother now. He knows he’s hard to care for. He knows he’s making it worse.
You look up and down his face. You must see the purple half circles beneath his eyes, the crack at the corner of his mouth, the cut he can’t stop picking on his cheek. Every time it scabs, he opens it again. One second he’s sitting there and the next he’s got blood under his fingernail.
“Hug?” you ask hopefully.
He goes to stand. You move in too fast and wrap your arms around him, leg slotting between his, leaning over his shoulders with a distinct sense of protectiveness. You squeeze him, a little sigh escaping you that sounds loud so close to his ear.
“How has it been this week?” you ask quietly.
“It’s fine.” He cups your back in his arm carefully. The other wraps tight around the small of it. He soaks you up, scared you’re gonna pull away any second.
“How are you feeling about it? Do you need any extra help?”
He cringes. “No,” he says. “It’s really fine.”
“When you texted me, about the cravings? What are they like today?”
He wishes he could breathe in the smell of your perfume and your skin and tell you they’re all better now. It would make sense; there isn’t much in his life that hasn’t been made better by your attention. He’d struggle to do this without you. You’re his only friend who actually cared enough to say the problem out loud, but you’re just a woman, you can’t work the sort of magic necessary to kick this for him.
“Spencer?” You pull away, nudging his cheek with the back of your finger.
“They’re okay. I’m not gonna do anything.”
“Good, honey. I’m proud of you. I know how hard this is.”
He bites the inside of his lip, surprised at your caring. He shouldn’t be.
“What are you two whispering about?”
You and Spencer have different reactions to Emily’s sudden question. He flinches like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and you, still vaguely pissed with everyone for not telling you Spencer was struggling and not afraid to show it, keep your eyes trained on his face.
“Nothing,” Spencer says.
You turn to her with a small smile. You still like her, Spencer knows. Secretly, he’s pleased you’re angry for him. It’s nice to have someone so obviously on his side. “We’re just deciding what to get for dinner.”
“Oh, nice. Date night?” she teases.
You press your cheek to his forehead. “Date night,” you agree, your hand unmissable where it bunches in his sweater near his heart.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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𝑀𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝑌𝑜𝑢
Pairing: joel miller x fem!reader
Summary: the summer before you graduated college, Joel Miller became a regular at the bar you worked. he was perfect except one small problem…you already have a boyfriend
Warning: 21+ (drinking), fluff, slight age gap (reader is in her early 20s and Joel is 30) smut, oral (f receiving) p in v, slight body worshipping, porn with plot
Word count: 5.2k
A/N: i did it! i finally wrote a fic to live up to my blog name! i’m so proud of this one y’all like omg…i love it, it’s so perfect. such a cute lil fluffy smut (≧◡≦) ♡ also still can’t get over the fact that people like my little hobby, so thank you for all the love! it only encourages me to write more. speaking of which, i have so many stories for the summer coming up, especially with tom blyth coming back as billy. i already have a few stories started so hopefully they will be out sooner rather then later. ok that’s it i have nothing more to say. enjoy ❣︎
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It was your last summer before graduating college and being home made you want to cherish your last year even more. You were looking forward to it and ready to be done bartending so you could see your friends and have some real fun. Sure, this job made you a ton of cash, but being home was nothing in comparison to being with your college friends in a town totally catered to you and your fellow students. Although your hometown had its perks. At least it used to. Your longtime boyfriend had never left your hometown or went to college. He had instead opted for going into a trade and becoming an electrician.
Your relationship was strong at first, but every semester it became harder and harder to navigate. Time after time you had convinced yourself that he was still your best friend, but meeting new people in college and getting to experience the joys of youth on your own for the first time, had given you a lot of perspective. So every birthday, holiday, and summer, you felt like you were coming home to a completely different man. Yet you stayed with him because you really wanted to make it work and you told yourself you loved him. Yet something unexpected had happened. One evening at work, a group of men came in to watch the Rangers game. That’s when you first met him and that’s the night Joel Miller would become a regular at your bar.
He was clearly older, at least thirty, but you couldn’t help but practically gawk at him all night. And you couldn’t help but think that Joel was eyeing you too. But you felt a wave of guilt overcome you. You knew you shouldn’t feel like this. You knew you shouldn’t be staring down another man like that but you couldn’t help it. But his arms looked so strong, like he could carry you effortlessly. You couldn’t help the way you smiled every time he would share a boisterous laugh with his friends. His own sweet smile drew you in and you noticed he had the cutest cheek nimble on top of it. From his big chiseled nose to his perfectly crafted jawline, he was an absolute Adonis. Just then another wave of guilt washed over you and you tried to shake away your feelings of disloyalty as you walked into the kitchen, putting their food order in.
As you walked out of the kitchen and brought them their next set of drinks, you tried not to look at him so much but it’s hard not to. Then he spoke up.
“Hey darling? Could I get some more napkins when you get the chance?”
“Yeah sure!” You scurried off and came back immediately
He smiled at you as he thanked you which made your heart flutter. As you made your way back to the kitchen, another server catches up to you.
“Who’s the handsome cowboy at 13?” She asked
“Oh” you started “I’m not sure. Are you talking about the man in the white shirt?” You lied acting like she was talking about someone else
“Girl, don’t play. I can see him undressing you right now”
You glanced over, and caught him smiling at you while he sipped his beer. You started to smile back, when the guilt hit you again and you turned back to your co-worker.
“Oh…yeah…h-he is handsome yeah…but not like I’m interested.” You lied again
“Okaaay whatever you say…” she said unconvinced, rushing off to her table
Joel and his buddies left around 9 and you noticed that Joel leaves the biggest tip out of everyone. Around 10 o’ clock you clocked out and headed to your boyfriend’s house where you had planned on spending the night. Once you arrived, you walked straight into his room where he was playing some PC game. His back was towards you and he didn’t notice you at first with his big headset on. You hugged him from behind and kissed his cheek. He startled and you jumped back.
“Woah! Hey! Your home” he remarked, clutching his chest, barely glancing at you “Jesus you scared me.”
“Clearly” you giggled
“God don’t sneak up on me like that. Could have cost me the game” he sighed, as he returned his full attention to the screen.
“What ya playing?
“COD” he remarked dryly
“Are you gonna be finishing soon?” You inquired
“Ahh probably not. I figured you’d be too tired to hang after your shift so I told the boys I’d be on tonight.”
“I thought you said we would watch a movie after work tonight?”
“Oh yeah, I mean I don’t know I just kinda figured you’d want to go to bed when you got home. Plus you fall asleep to every movie we watch together”
“Yeah” you sighed in disappointment, wanting to follow it up with “but that’s not the point.” You knew he’d get upset at you for pulling him away from his game. “I just want to cuddle you.”
“Ok ok I got ya. I’ll be in bed soon, ok.” He said halfhearted, still not looking at you.
You changed into a pair of sweat shorts and an old shirt and got ready for bed. As you climb into bed you want to cry. And you questioned your guilt from tonight. Maybe it was because it had been a while since a man seemingly flirted with you that made you realize just how lousy your boyfriend has become. When was the last time he genuinely made you feel special? You fell asleep, but were woken up by small kisses on your neck, but your boyfriend began to move more aggressively, trusting and grinning his crotch against your ass. At that point you’re too tired for sex, and all you wanted was for him to hold you and care for you.
“Mmm babe I’m really tired” you whined
“I thought you wanted attention?” He asked, continuing his actions. You pushed away slightly but he continued, only pulling you closer against his chest.
“I do, just not like this. Not right now ok? I just want to sleep.”
He sighed, turning over
“See this is why I don’t want to do a movie with you. I knew you would be too tired.”
“That’s not…” you wanted to finish your sentence again and say “that’s not fair” but once again that would probably upset him and now he was annoyed with you so you don’t want to push it. “I just want to sleep now ok.”
“Ok. It’s fine. Goodnight.” He huffed, falling asleep.
The next couple of shifts your mind is preoccupied by your newfound feelings about your relationship. Your boyfriend wasn’t abusive by any means, but it was clear the relationship wasn’t healthy anymore. That’s when the crying at work started. Mainly because you had just come from his house before each shift and every interaction with him pained you. The only thing that kept you from continuously calling off was Joel. Almost every shift around 5 o’clock he would come in, order a few beers, maybe something to eat, and chat it up with you.
By the third week, all your co-workers were teasing you about him. Whenever his truck would pull up in the parking lot, someone would come get you.
“Your cowboy is here!” Someone yelled out to you, stepping out of the kitchen. You left the servers station to greet him.
“Hey Joel! Mich Ultra? You asked
“You know it darling. How you’ve been?” He smiled, causing you to practically melt into a puddle. You gathered yourself and smiled back at him.
“About the same as the last time you saw me.”
“And still as beautiful as ever.” He winked
“You flatter me Mr. Miller. I bet Mrs. Miller is one special lady hmm?” You asked more or less trying to see if he was actually flirting with you or just being nice.
“She would if there was one.”
“Oh I thought you said you have a daughter?” You questioned more
“And a man can’t be a single dad in this world? How sexist of you” he chuckled sarcastically
You rolled your eyes at him and laughed along.
“I just thought such a handsome cowboy as yourself would have a beautiful gal to go home to.”
“I wish…” he sighed, eyes giving you a once over
“So where is she then? Your daughter? If not with her mom. You know we allowed kids in before 9 right?”
“Yeah, she just has soccer practice at this time three days a week. I figured why not wait for her to be done and come see you since I’m out and about.” He explained
“Ain’t you just a charmer.” I’ll get you that beer.”
You walk over to behind the bar and fetch Joel his beer.
“He’s just all over you” one of the bartenders remarked
“And he tips well too.”
“Gee I wonder why” they smirked, giving you a look “how does your boyfriend feel about him?”
“I mean he’s just a customer. They flirt all the time and who doesn’t like the extra cash?” You started quickly
“Mhmm sure” they said
You walk back to him, bringing him his beer and continuing to chat with him. He ordered another beer then left to go pick up his daughter Sarah.
Now every time at work shift, it felt like an escape. It also felt like a fantastic secret that only you knew about. A fantasy being played out in real life. Joel was so charming.
Even though he was older, his youthful demeanor shone through. He was caring too. If he wasn’t asking about you and your life, he was talking about his daughter. You could tell she was his world. He absolutely adored her, and you loved to listen to him go on and on about her. You didn’t quite care what your co-workers would say or how your boss didn’t like that you hovered around his table, sometimes neglecting your other ones.
But he couldn’t complain too much given Joel was a respectful, paying customer. And a great tipper. And he would always leave a little note on his receipt. Nothing too flirtatious, just innocent enough to toe the line. This went on for a couple more weeks, your boyfriend none the wiser. Not like he was paying much attention to you anymore. Every note, you would take them and make sure to hide them when you got home. You stored them in your sock drawer and kept them secret like everything else about him. You still felt guilty though and realize that you need to end things with your boyfriend. It’s harder than you thought and truthfully you don’t know how to leave someone you’ve cared about that much. And been with for so long. But talking to Joel made you realize what you needed. And what you wanted. And you wanted him. And something told you he wanted you too.
Then back at home, living with your boyfriend it was a totally different reality. He felt so disconnected from you, so indifferent. And the more you faded away from him the less you felt like you really loved him still. And he noticed you pulling away from him. One night, you came home and had kept another one of Joel’s receipts.
“See you Wednesday :) Joel”
You left your server book out on his bed, along with your purse and hopped into the shower without thinking. When you got out of the shower, your boyfriend was sitting on his gamer chair, nose deep in your server book. You froze and tightened the towel around you nervously.
“Oh hey babe. When did you get home? I thought you and the boys were having a boys night? “
“We decided to just get dinner instead. What’s this?” He asked, holding up the receipt.
“Oh, just one of my regulars. Don’t worry about it.” You giggled, trying to play it cool reaching for the book. He holds it back from you and stands up.
“Who’s Joel?”
“My regular” you repeated
“Oh yeah. I bet he tips you well hmm? Pays you lots of attention?” He asked accusatorily.
“I-he…he’s just a regular we get them all the time.”
“Yeah, but you said he is one of YOUR regulars. Why yours? Why is he writing you notes?”
“He-he just always sits in my section I don’t know. That’s not too unusual…and a lot of customers write thank you notes and stuff I can’t control them!” You insisted, readjusting your towel again
“You expect me to believe that?”
You scoffed and rolled your eyes.
“Why are you acting like this?”
“Well I don’t need creepy men hitting on my girl at work.” He barked back
“He’s not creepy and you’re being ridiculous.”
“Oh then what is he?”
“He’s just a customer!” You argued even though it was a lie
From that moment on, your boyfriend had grown highly suspicious of your relationship with him and Joel. Wednesday rolled around and Joel showed up again as expected. You nervously approached him as he sat down.
“Well hey their sugar” he smiled
“Hey Joel” you replied, only giving him a half smile
He searched your face and could tell something is up.
“You ok?”
“Yeah, just life stuff. So Mich Ultra?”
He nodded and you walked off. His eyes followed you, watching you as you went to the bar. You came back and gave him his beer. You wanted to set it down and walk away, but Joel’s concerned eyes beckoned you to say.
“Thinking about food?” You asked him
“Maybe. I’m sorry doll, I don’t mean to pry but if I did anything to put you off-“
“No Joel of course it’s not you it’s just…relationship issues” you huff
“Sorry to hear that sugar. I hope y’all can work it out”
“I hope so” you sigh, knowing it’s a lie.
Just then your boyfriend storms into the bar. You don’t notice him at first, but then you hear a set of heavy footsteps approaching towards you and you look up. Confused, you call out his name.
“What are you doing here?”
“Can’t visit my girl at work anymore?” He asked glancing at Joel
“Excuse me.” You mumble to Joel, walking over to him and grabbing his hand. You lead him out of the building.
“What are you doing?!” You shouted
“Is that him? Is that Joel?” he sneered
“Why do you care all of a sudden hmm? You’ve barely paid attention to me in the last few months. What happened to us?” You nearly sobbed.
He sighed and shook his head
“What do you want from me? I mean I’m frustrated with you too if that helps. You have completely shut yourself off, don’t tell me shit! I’m upset too! Especially that I know you’re flaunting yourself around weirdo old men.”
“Stop! That’s it, I can't do this anymore. I’m so scared to tell you anything because of how you act when I share your feelings. When I come home, you ignore me and frankly it seems like you only give me affection when you want to fuck me!”
He rolled his eyes and scoffed, throwing his arms up.
“Oh my god! You over exaggerate everything. Is this why you’re acting like an attention seeker? Because you think I don’t pamper you?”
“Unbelievable. Pampering really…you know what I’m not arguing with you! I’m done! We’re done!” You shout and storm back into the back
“Done? Really like that? Four years done like that? Fine whatever, be that way, I know you don’t mean it. I’ll see you at home.” And he storms off back to his car.
You wanted to cry as you stormed back into the bar, but you held yourself together.
You tried to hide your clearly upset face as you rushed back into the kitchen and into the back alley next to the dumpsters. Joel noticed and ran out of the bar looking for you. He searched around the building then he called out to you.
“Hey. What’s wrong.”
You can’t help it. One look at him, and you ran into his arms. He embraced you, holding you tight.
“Hey my little firefly…what’s wrong?” He asked, his sweet southern drawl falling like your tears.
“I loved him Joel… why do people stop loving you back…” you sobbed
Joel gently stroked your hair, attempting to calm you down. It didn’t feel strange to be held by him. You felt safe, and comfortable in his arms, despite barely knowing him or even having any interaction with him outside of work, that moment felt right.
“I don’t know darling.” Joel sighed
You eventually gathered yourself and go back inside with him. Your boss thankfully didn’t notice your absence. Joel returned to his table and you returned to your other patrons. After his beer, Joel left and you didn’t really get a chance to see him leave. When you went to collect his tap you saw another note this time with his phone number and it read:
“Gotta go get Sarah. Call me if you need to talk”
Your heart dropped. He had finally given you his number and at the same time you still felt guilty. Even though you had, despite what your now ex-boyfriend thinks, finally ended your relationship. And here the opportunity was. Right in front of you. You look at the receipt, take it, fold it and immediately put it in your pocket to keep it safe. You clock out at ten and are all too eager to get into your car to call Joel. Once you do, you dial the number and it rings.
“Hello?”
“He-hey Joel it’s me…” you uttered
“You ok darling?” He asked sweetly
Maybe it was his voice, the question, or the fact that the weight of the burdens of your life seemed to have fallen apart around you, but you cried again. Letting it all out and at the same time feeling better than ever.
“Hey hey hey” Joel whispered “I just put Sarah to bed…why don’t you come over here? We can talk ok?”
You nodded and sobbed.
“Ok…”
Joel texted you his address and you put it into your GPS. It’s only about a ten minute drive to his house and when you pulled up, you nervously exit your vehicle. You walked up the front door and knocked quietly, not wanting to wake Sarah. A moment later, it swung open and Joel’s handsome face looked at yours with deep concern.
“Come on in.”
You nodded and walked into his home. As expected it’s much nicer than your boyfriends, but then again Joel is an actual adult, with a kid, and mortgage to pay off so it was to be slightly expected. It wasn’t too fancy, just your standard suburban home. You walked over to the couch and Joel followed you.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
“Honestly I need something a little strong. Got any whiskey?”
He smiled ear to ear.
“Ya betcha.” And he rushed off into his kitchen.
You made yourself comfortable and tried to relax as you looked around Joel’s living room. You curiously strode over to his bookshelf and read the titles. Lots of history books, a few fiction and then you noticed the framed photo of him and his daughter. You realize you’ve never seen a photo of her, but she’s just as beautiful as you could have imagined. You smiled and Joel caught you in your curiosity.
“She’s been my little gem since day one. Just me and her. I don’t think I ever told ya, but her mom left us so…” he remarked.
You looked at him, smiled and nodded.
“She’s beautiful, Joel. You’re a great dad.”
Joel sat the glasses of whiskey down on the shelf and reached for your hand. You gasp slightly, look at where he’s touched you and then look up into his eyes. He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear.
“You asked me why people stop loving people back and ya know, I still don’t have a good answer for that. I guess it’s because I’ve been asking myself the same thing for the last twelve years.”
“Joel…you’re such a good man…” you sighed, squeezing his hand.
“You’re too kind darling.” He smiled
“No really.”
You stared at him for a moment. His eyes searched your own looking for what he suspected you wanted from him. He cupped your face and he leaned in to kiss you. His lips fit perfectly against yours, like he was made for you. It was perfect and passionate. He was so gentle, yet you could feel how badly he had wanted this moment with you. He pulled back for a moment to make sure he hadn’t crossed the line.
“Got a bedroom?” You smirked
Before you knew it, Joel was crawling on top of you and you took off your shirt. At the same time he was busy frantically kissing your neck and jaw. He tossed it off and Joel took a moment to admire your chest. He gasped and reached to grope your breasts. Your soft, perky mounds fit perfectly in his hand and he began to massage you. He was in utter awe of you. Almost overwhelmed that he was getting to have you like this. You stared back up at him, equally in awe at that moment.
His big brown eyes melted your heart and all your troubles melted too. Fuck your lousy ex. All you wanted and needed was Joel. He kissed you again as he continued to play with your breasts. You let out a few giggles that turned into harsh, sharp moans as he moved his mouth down your body.
“Fuck…” you whispered, the word dancing around the room.
As his lips trailed you, your body reacted, your hips bucked and you were practically squirming under him. When his mouth found your cleavage, you felt the heat in between your legs grow stronger.
He continued to kiss you, only breaking away to take off his own shirt. He was toned, his skin smooth and he was unbelievably broad. You couldn’t help but admire the way his collar bone met his neckline. It was clean and sharp. You tried not to think of your ex, but in comparison he was not as fit as the gorgeous man in front of you. You placed your hands on his chest and felt his pecs, running your fingers down to his abdomen. You leaned up to kiss him again. His lips were so soft and addictive. You could’ve kissed him all night, but your desires beckoned for more. He held you up slightly and flipped you over. As he did he unhooked your bra and you let it fall off your chest. He tossed it on the ground and admired your bare chest for the first time.
“You’re so gorgeous. “ he uttered as your hair fell in front of you.
He pushed it out of the way and cupped your face. He pulled you back down to capture your mouth once again, lightly gripping the back of your neck. Your bare boobs pressed down against his chest, a feeling which you love. Skin on skin, the close intimacy and the feeling of being wanted more than just something to fuck. That’s how your ex had made you feel the last few months when you and him had sex, so being touched, cherished by Joel made your head spin. You weren’t used to it and you could feel your body reacting to the unfamiliar sensations. Joel noticed.
“Baby, you ok?”
You blushed at the nickname, smiled and nodded.
“It’s just been some time since I felt like this.”
“When’s the last time he touched you?”
“I-I mean we would have sex once or twice a week…”
“When is the last time he really touched you though. Made you feel special?”
You simply stared at him speechless and tilted your head.
“You know what, forget about him. Just focus on me. Let me make you feel good like you deserve.”
With that, he decided to be bold and reached for your mini skirt. He pulled it down past your hips and you lifted them up so he could pull it off you. He tossed it on the ground with your bra and his hands immediately moved to cup your ass. He squeezed the pillowy flesh as you moved your hips. You could feel him getting hard under you and you eagerly reached for his belt. His hands moved up to your waist, rocking you more. You undo his belt and he lifted up his hips to take off his pants. He slid them off along with his boxers, revealing his length. It was perfect. Just the right size, the mushroom tip red and swollen. Encouraged by his actions, you slide your panties off and you are both completely bare in front of each other.
He soaked the sight of your naked beauty in, eyes trailed over all your curves and edges. You were simply divine to him, a work of art. He runs his hands back up to your chest, briefly groping them, his eyes completely focused on your face. You grab his cock and began slowly stroking it. His mouth drops slightly as he watched you. He tilted his head back on the pillow briefly, before he looked back up to watch you. His breathing became ragged and you picked up your pace. You start to move on top of him, guiding his cock to your entrance, but he stops you.
“Let me get you wet.” He insisted, grabbing your hips and flipping you again. Immediately, he kissed down your body, worshiping you. “You’re so perfect. If you were my girl I’d never stop showing you how perfect you are.” He muttered in between kisses.
He kissed your inner thigh before he experimentally rubbed your clit. You gasped, your hips bucked in his face. He smirked at your reaction, loving how you responded to his touch. Taking that as a sign you wanted more, he gently kissed your slit. He gave you another one and another one until the little pecks of his lips turned into the sloppy mess of his tongue. It had been ages since a man had gone down on you like this. Your ex-never warmed you up beforehand anymore, too eager to satisfy his own desire and pleasure. Joel knew how to be a real man. His tongue and lips suck and rub at your core. He moved his head too, adding to the friction. You reached for his brown locks, desperately in need of something to hold onto. He hung onto your hips and he moved you against his face. He moaned against your core, eating you out like you were the most delicious meal of his life. He pulled back, out of breath and drunk in your juices.
“Could taste ya all day darling.”
You nodded as he inserted a finger in you, twisting it. He slowly pumped it into you, curling it up as he added another finger. He watched as your face scrunched up in pleasure. He sped his hand up, totally focused on getting you to finish.
“Joel…Joel…Joel…” you chanted “Gonna cum”
He nodded and worked you a bit more until you tightened down around his digits. You came hard, the euphoria rushed through your body like a roller coaster.
“So beautiful oh my god.” He praised, rubbing your thighs.
He crawled back up to you. He kissed you letting you taste yourself. You hadn’t felt this kind of passion in a while, this intense feeling of intimacy.
“You ready? He asked, slowly rubbing your clit again.
You nodded as he lined himself up with your slit. You felt as his cock pushed past your folds and stretched you out perfectly. You gasped and he kissed your cheek feather light. He cooed at you as he slid in, hitting the back of your cervix. You gasped, which turned into a raspy moan that floated from your lips. Joel cupped your face, stroking his thumb across your cheek. You two shared in the silence of your pleasure for a moment, taking in how good the other felt. He moved, slow at first then he sped up. He felt so full inside you, and you lost yourself in the sensation of his length. You could have stayed like that all night, the steady motion of his cock pumping into you was pure bliss.
“Does that feel good?” Joel inquired lovingly
“Yes, please Joel I want more. I need more of you.”
Per your request, he gave you more, slightly giving into his own desires to want to ravish you. But given it’s your first time with him, Joel didn’t want a sloppy, lustful encounter. Yet, he picked up his speed, his length now hitting the back of your walls at an almost brutal pace. Joel makes sure to keep checking in on you to make sure you’re okay or that it doesn’t hurt too much. You panted and panted as he continued, gripping onto his waist with your legs, pushing him deeper into you. He moved a bit more then flipped over. You smiled at him, slightly out of breath.
“I want to see that beautiful body riding me. Is that ok?”
You nod enthusiastically, slowly starting to move your hips. Joel’s hands groped your ass, rocking you on him more. He sat up, pressed his lips firmly against yours and held you tight. You started to bounce on him which elicited a guttural moan from his lips. He moved his hand to your hips, looking up at you in awe.
How could anyone not treat you like the absolute treasure you are?
Joel thought and wondered to himself as he held you. He couldn’t believe that your ex-boyfriend would neglect you. What a foolish man, but now he had you. In the exact moment he had imagined. He had you. He moved his hips in sync with yours. You steadied yourself on his shoulders, ecstasy, providing you escape. Your breath hitched as you feel his cock stiffen more inside you. He was close. You didn’t want it to end but then again you had a feeling this wouldn’t be your last encounter with Joel. A few last rocks of your hips and he was spent. He pulled you off him abruptly as he shot his load onto his stomach. You caught your breath, resting your forehead against his. You held his jaw in your hands, settling your hips.
“Joel…” you whispered, the words ghosting over your lips.
“Yes darling..” he whispered back
“Y-you have no idea how much I wanted you like this.”
“I know. Me too, but not just like this. I want you. All of you. Can I please have it?” He nearly begged
Your enthusiasm took over you and you planted a spontaneous kiss on his lips.
“Yes Joel…you can have all of me.”
꧁✩★✩꧂
#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller x reader smut#joel miller x female reader#joel miller fanfiction#tlou#the last of us#the last of us fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#joel miller the last of us#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal#pedrostories#pedro pascal x reader#pedro smut#smut#smut fanfiction#fanfic#fan fiction#pedro pascal characters
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Astro Notes Pt. 3
I have a lot of thoughts and observations that I want to share 😭 If you have any recommendations, please let me know as well 🤍
- People often see 7th house as their ideal partner, but YOU are meant to embrace traits of that sign for growth.
For example, a Libra rising will begin to see more personal growth after learning positive traits from Aries e.g. Being more assertive, believing in themselves instead of looking for others’ approval, putting themselves first, etc.
- This might be a controversial opinion, but I don’t think minor asteroids influence your chart. Asteroids like Bride, Groom, and other very specific ones. The interpretations for them can usually be found somewhere in your main placements already. It can make you over complicate your chart and feel even more disconnected with yourself because you don’t focus on your core energy.
Not every small detail about you has to be explained by astrology. At the end of the day, you’re a person with free will and complex experiences that shape you beyond astrology. This is just a tool, not a determiner of your life.
- Pluto in 5th house 🤝 destroying/deleting your creative works when they’re not up to your standards
- The difference between Venus/Pluto hard versus soft aspects is in their expression. They all are intense, magnetic, and obsessive to some degree. However, hard aspects have a harder time owning these traits so they tend to swing between extremes (e.g. total obsession and then indifference). The soft aspects are just as intense and can have the same toxic tendencies as the hard aspects, BUT they have an easier time accepting it as a part of them and seem more ‘stable’.
- 6th house placements are so overlooked! That’s literally the house of your health and daily life. I notice that when you work with your 6th house energy effectively, other areas of your life also improve.
It’s interesting that 6th house comes right before 7th house of relationships. In order to be in a relationship with someone else, you have to take good care of yourself first!
- Aries and Mars aspects (especially hard ones) can overpower other aspects in your chart until you learn how to master that energy and channel them into something productive
- Jupiter in 12th house used to be seen as negative. But I think Jupiter here is one of the luckiest placements to have. This is the placements of coincidences happening in their favors, things lining up in crazy ways, book falling off the shelf right at the page they need to read. Their experiences feel divine.
They are very connected to the Universe, Source, Spirit Guides, or whatever you believe in! Anyone can with practice, but these things come more naturally for them.
- Shoutout to my Virgo Venus and Capricorn Mars for being the only things that stop me from going off the rails 😍
- Saturn in 11th house often feel unloved by the people around them due to earlier experiences with rejection. Saturn is trying to teach them to unconditionally accept themselves. Also, those bad experiences teach them how to read people a lot better and spot the ones with bad intentions. The reward from Saturn will be genuine, solid, and loyal friendships/connections.
I’m so glad you guys enjoy these silly notes! I have a ton of fun making them 😭
#astro observations#astro notes#astrology#Venus square Pluto#venus opposite Pluto#Venus trine Pluto#venus sextile Pluto#7th house#1st house#Saturn in 11th house#pick a card#6th house#asteroids#aries moon#libra rising#Jupiter in 12th house#pluto in 5th house
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Great Shift; We Didn’t Choose These Bodies…
Trevor:
I’m officially 2 months into the Great Shift and I’m about to go insane! You see before all of this craziness went down— I was a 18 year old scrawny gay boy who lived across the street. The body that seems to be now mine forever belonged to 47 year old Jason Dixon. He’s a handsome guy, works in construction, and has one son named Carson.
Now Carson, is someone I’ve known since I was young. He’s a couple years older than me and I hate to say it but he was kinda my sexual awakening. He was on the swim team and I remember seeing him in a speedo— something about it just woke me up. And now all of this time later I still get weak to the knees when I see him.
Now the hard part about all of this is that our community has chosen as a whole to “pretend” and live our lives in public as the body we are in.
Which can be hard given people have swapped with different genders, ages… it gets kinda weird. But when I’m out in public, I’m Jason. No one causes me Trevor anymore, well accept for Ben.
Ben is a guy who lived a couple blocks down from me, I really didn’t know Ben prior to the Great Shift. He was a middle aged gay guy who lived alone. And now he’s inside of Carson’s body.
We both now live under a house together that never belonged to us and are forced to pretend to be ‘father and son’ in public.
At home both of us have just really enjoyed each other’s company. We’re both gay and openly talk about guys, what we like about them, music, all kinds of stuff. The house is kind of our safe space to be ourselves.
Except him and I have one huge issue— we both are very attracted to each other’s bodies. Ben confessed to me one time while we were sitting on the couch together drinking a bottle of wine that Jason’s body is like the man of his dreams.
And I get it, Mr. Dixon is a good looking guy. I enjoy having his big muscled hairy body on a daily basis. Especially since he has a gigantic cock and a pair of sexy feet.
I guess they’re something he passed down to Carson because I can’t stop looking at them! I already had a foot fetish before this mess and I have to watch Ben strut around in his body… he never wears socks or a shirt or pants for that matter!
So what do I do in response? Well, I turned it up a notch. Not only did I strip down to less but I stopped wearing underwear around the house. I’ll free ball so he can see my sexy daddy junk flopping around as I walk. And boy did I get his attention!
He can’t take his eyes off of it!
That lead to the back and forth mirror selfies… both of sending more and more risky photos of each other.
And then came Ben placing Carson’s big smelly feet on my lap… I know he knows I have a thing for feet! He looks over at me with a very cheeky ton and says, “my feet are killing me! Could you rub them?”
And of course I said yes, I rubbed his feet for 15 minutes until I knew I couldn’t take anymore!
I hightailed it to the bathroom, locked the door, and wanked one out. I knew in that moment, I was done with games. I need to address this.
So that night, we sat on the couch after dinner watching a movie. I wrap my arm around him and he freezes up.
“Sorry need to stretch out a bit, I say to him.”
He acknowledges my excuse and leans his on me.
I start rubbing up and down his forearm softly wondering if he’s going to do something about it.
He says nothing… a few moments later, Ben puts his feet on mine and starts rubbing his toes back and forth.
I lift my head up and look at him. I kiss him on the cheek. He looks taken aback by it.
“Trev, you know we can’t.”
“And why the fuck not?”
“Because we are technically father and son…”
“That’s such a BS excuse, you flirt with me for weeks now. You and I aren’t related. Now these bodies might be but who the hell has to know?”
“Yeah but what if we get caught?”
“We won’t… now just relax.”
I grab his junk and lets out a yelp noise.
“You’ve toyed with me for too long Ben. You and I are going to explore every inch of each other starting tonight. You’re gonna come sleep in daddy‘s bed for now on do you understand?”
“Fuck…”
I pulled his pants down and fully expose him. I see his beautiful cock, really for the first time. It’s so hard and already leaking. I’ve bend my head down and gingerly lick become off of his head. I knew that been like to be dominated. We both shared our fantasies with each other. He’s always wanted some handsome hairy bearded muscular daddy to boss him around. And that’s what I’m gonna do.
“ Do you understand daddy‘s orders?,” I say to him. he knows his head. I grabbed his dick and play with the head of his cock, running my thumb back-and-forth on it.
“ I said did you understand daddy’s orders? I need to hear you.”
“Yes—“
“ yes what?”
“Yes daddy!”
“ good now let’s head to bed, daddy needs you to use that pretty mouth of yours on his massive cock.”
I pull off my shorts and out comes Jason’s massive dick that I know he’s been fantasizing for a long time now.
“ Trevor, this is so fucking hot. Thank you for doing this. I’ve been wanting the touch that body for so long. I wanna suck your cock so bad. I wanna feel up and down that hairy chest. I wanna smell those big manly feet. I want you to cuddle at night. God I’m so happy this is finally happening. Deep down since this whole swap thing happened it’s all I’ve ever wanted. Not only are you in the body of my dreams, but I really like you.”
“ fuck Ben! Way to kill the mood with that last part, I really fucking like you too. How about we just stick to role-playing and worry about our emotions later. Daddy’s worrying as fuck lol.” 
“ shit you wanna get really crazy what about if you’re sexy ass son talk to you tonight?”
“ that’s hot as shit you know I’m a bottom!”
“ yeah but you’re gonna have to tell me every now and then especially with that massive dick of yours.” 
“ well then I want a foot job. You know I like feet and you know what I like those feet. Which by the way, you’re such a dick for making rub them for like 30 minutes the other day. I literally had to run to the bathroom and jerk one out.”
“ ha ha I literally I knew it!”
“So you ready?”
“Yep!!”
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Hiii I’d love to place an order! I’d like to order Angel food cake with a savory pastry and a side of iced tea and pina colada served by Lando💕
bakery menu
want to place an order? check out the menu! there's tons of things to choose from so please, hit me up! i'd love to hear from you! thank you, thank you! for this order! thank you lovely anon, i hope you enjoy it!
angel food cake ("if he fucks with me again, i'm finishing inside of you.") + savory pastry ("let your brother find out.") + ice tea (accidentally launching relationship) + pina colada (pregnancy)
cw: smut/pwp, verstappen!reader, pregnancy, phone calls, protective!max, cowgirl position
max didn't want you seeing any of the guys on the grid. it never sat right with him. he knew all of their dirty secrets and didn't need you getting involved with them.
but you and lando connected quite well, he was always sweet to you. he slowly grew to know you inside and out. you were perfect for him, it was just a shame that you had to keep your relationship private.
"this is silly." you shifted from one foot to another. you were currently in one of lando's t-shirts with a certain pair of underwear underneath, "where did you ever get this?"
lando was resting on his side with his head propped up by his fist, "the internet is a beautiful place, love." he beamed at you.
you'd barely call them panties, it was more like a strip of fabric held together by thin shoelaces. it was one step below a thong at that point. but it was neon green with your boyfriend's logo printed on the front.
you had refused to wear them to the dutch grand prix, but if he won, you'd wear them. you made the bed, now you must lie in it. you knew lando was still running off the high of the win, so you couldn't blame him. he beat your brother on his home turf, now he wanted to fuck his sister.
"do i have to wear these when i leave?" you asked.
he shrugged playfully, "sure. let your brother find out that way. if you leave them on the hotel room floor when he comes to pick you up... i can only imagine the look on his face." he knew that you had a habit of leaving things in hotel rooms. he had a decent collection of your make up that he had collected over your time together simply by taking home what you left behind.
it wouldn't be a stretch for your brother to find that thong, as embarrassing at it would be.
you crossed your arms and huffed, "couldn't i have gotten like a pair of boxers or even a bikini cut. this is shit that strippers wear." no offense to the hard working girls of that business, but that wasn't your line of work.
lando winked at you, "well, maybe you should put on a show for me."
you narrowed his eyes before you got on the bed with your boyfriend, "right, right." you ran your fingers through his hair and looked into his eyes, "you're a funny guy, norris." then went in for a kiss.
he got his arms around you and laid you out on the bed, his eyes raked your body. he admired your beauty and was eager to get the shirt off of you. which only left you in the thong.
"you know. if he fucks with me again, i'm finishing inside of you again." and watched you squirm under his grasp. oh, you were so beautiful. the prettiest thing ever put on his earth, and you were wearing his logo.
in all fairness you were going to be eventually be a norris, if his plan went well. he wanted you to be his wife. the pretty mrs. norris around the garage. all smiles and maybe a few babies.
a sick part of him liked the idea of taking max verstappen's sweet sister and putting a pretty ring on your finger. that he took the championship and his sister.
it pained him to take the thong off, but he wanted what was underneath. he wanted to see that slick pussy that he yearned for. he got the scrap of fabric off and gazed at your pussy before you took him by the shoulders and got him onto the bed.
he eyed your naked body as you straddled his waist, he helped you sink down on his cock. his expression changed as he felt himself nudge against the back of your pussy. almost took the breath out of him.
you breasts bounced with each thrust of your hips. he met his pace and held onto you. he eyed your beauty from the angle he was out. you looked painfully adorable. sweet little thing taking his big cock, letting it nudge up against the softest parts of you.
lando loved you, it was a infernal need, like the claws of hell gripped into him when he thought of you. he felt like a little devil when he got you into positions and rutted up against you. you were the ultimate prize, verstappen's little sister with the gentle eyes and sopping wet cunt. it was hot, that was all that lando wanted.
he'd never admit it to anyone (except maybe you), but if he had the choice between the championship and your sweet cunt for the rest of his days. he'd take you. there were a million prizes and trophies to win, but there was only one of you.
"lando." you gasped, your back arched a little as it hit just the right way. you felt tense as the pleasure lapped at your core. you were soaked and it felt hot all over.
"you're beautiful. you got all the beauty." he chuckled as he gripped onto your hips to meet your thrusts, "i can't believe you and max are siblings."
you whined, "lando. don't talk about my brother." your pussy sounded soaked from the movements you made. you were so wet for him and it made him shudder with want.
"sorry, sorry, baby girl." he said, "no more track talk, no more sibling talk." he leaned forward to kiss your chest as a promise as the two of your rutted against one another. the pair of you felt so good.
you moaned a 'thank you' as you placed your hands on either side of his chest to get a better angle to ride him. the feeling bloomed in the back of your head, it clouded your thoughts with that of hot, hot need. lust was a current in your system as you bounced on his cock.
"i love you."
"i love you too." you arched your back a little as you felt lando in your abdomen. a wave of lust went over you and made you run hot. your brother's rival was deep inside of you with little to no protection. it excited you.
but just as quickly as the pleasure rose in your body, it ran cold in a quick second.
your phone rang on the nightstand. while you ignored it, you caught the sight of the screen and saw that it was from your brother. you scrambled a little, with lando's cock still inside of him.
you felt ice in your stomach as you stopped for a moment. your breathing was heavy. it continued to ring.
"stay quiet." you said to lando before you answered the phone, "hey! max." you said, your voice was tight.
there was moment of silence with you still rolling your hips against lando's cock. letting it fill you. the bed squeaked a little and your breathing was heavy.
max sighed, "are you with lando?"
your breath got caught in your throat and you stopped your movements. you swallowed back the panic, "n..no. why would i be with lando.. i'm at my hotel!" you almost felt the air out of your lungs as lando's cock was painfully deep inside of you.
max said, painfully calm, "i know you are... don't lie." that was the thing about your older brother, he always knew when you lied. he could lie through his teeth, but you cracked under the pressure.
you felt lando's hands hold onto your hips. you said meekly, "surprise...."
your brother replied, "we'll talk about this after. i suggest you be more careful around the paddock, unless you people to talk... be safe. please. and tell lando to look at the driver's group chat."
you hung up the phone and put it down on the bed before lando moved you onto your hands and knees to plug his cock deep into you. he curved your back and rutted against you. you whined and tried to say something but lando spoke first.
"guess the cat has come out of the bag." the rush of it made him more excited as he rammed his cock into you. with a few more heavy thrusts, you came around his cock. and then with a few more, he finished inside of you. you came soon after as he rubbed his cock deep into you some more. the pressure made orgasm wash over you.
"lando."
"i've got you, baby girl. you look so good, all fucked out for me."
he loved the sight of you on your chest, hips up at the perfect angle to cream your sweet pussy. he slowed to a stop and pulled out, the base of his cock had a white ring around it from the mixture of your cum and his.
"what about max?"
"oh don't worry. i'll talk to him. gotta play nice with my future brother-in-law." lando said as he curled up further to you.
-
max didn't kill lando. he also wasn't happy. not only was lando dating you, he had also gotten you pregnant. he didn't even need to say anything and lando was already promising a ring and a life together. max was honestly a little impressed. seeing lando step up to the plate.
he could also see how affectionate lando was with you. how he was there for you every chance he got. he didn't throw you to the wayside because he got what he wanted. max only wanted the best for you.
"i'm fine, lando." you said as you pinched his cheeks, "go do you press stuff, i'll be here."
"alright, alright. but if you need anything you tell someone. i'm not having my wife getting lost or hurt out there." he tapped you on the forehead.
max chuckled into his fist and you glared at your brother.
but when you came to the paddock in mclaren orange near the end of the season, your brother was less impressed. you were with the mclaren driver, but you were still a verstappen.
"next time." max said, "you're wearing red bull, the idea of a verstappen in mclaren clothes isn't right. you're not married to him yet." some habits died hard.
maybe you should've thought this over better before you started dating your brother's rival. <3
#bunny writes#the bakery#lando norris x reader#lando smut#lando x reader#lando norris#ln4 smut#ln4 imagine#ln4#ln4 fic#ln4 x reader#formula one imagine#formula 1 fic#formula 1 rpf#formula one fanfiction#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1#formula one#f1#f1 smut#f1 x reader#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#reader insert
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Hi there!! I saw that you were taking request so I thought I’d put one in! I’m obsessed with a rich/Silver fox Nat x innocent reader. Silver fox Nat is definitely manipulative and possessive and is obsessed with R. Maybe for the fic nat just had a really stressful day and gets home late and needs to take her anger out on R? Maybe g!p too? Up to you!  definitely super kinky
Try To Keep Me
hey idk if this does your request justice, but I hope you enjoy!! not proofread
word count: 1.5k
pairing: CEO silver fox beefy g!p Nat x housewife fem reader
warnings: smut, nat has a penis, cnc, angst, cursing, slapping, arguing, name calling, breeding kink, lactation kink, (let me know if I miss any )
You were done waiting on her. She told you that she was done with the broken promises, and the worst part was that you believed her. When you agreed to be her housewife you thought it would be less cooking, cleaning, housework and more wife.
It seems as though all you do is cook the meals that she demands, yet she never actually eats, do her laundry, clean her house, and be used as her personal fucktoy. She was never like this when you guys were dating. You used to have fun together, she used to look at you with that special twinkle in her eyes, while she held your hands and showered you with praises. You couldn’t remember the last time she even complimented you on something other than your body.
Yet you stayed, it’s not like she didn’t love you, I mean she paid the bills, you never wanted for anything. And the sex. The sex was incredible. She would take you whenever she wanted and it was always hot and passionate. You just wished she would bring romance back into the relationship and make you feel wanted.
You figured Natasha didn’t try anymore because she got too confident that you would never leave. She’s every woman’s dream being a millionaire CEO, who is exceptionally sexy, with her long red hair and the muscular body that she spends hours upholding everyday in the gym. But that didn’t matter to you, you missed the Natasha she was when you were dating, your gentle Natty who would pursue you each and every day, take you on thoughtful dates and cuddle you to sleep every night. You were going to teach her that she needs to put in effort in order to keep you.
”Babe, i’m home.” she says, walking through the front door throwing her stuff to the side, expecting you to pick it up later. “Where are you?” she wondered why you weren’t in the kitchen cooking or cleaning up like you normally were.
Walking through the house to look for you, she noticed the light was on in the closet of the master bedroom. “What are you doing, babe?” She asked with a furrowed brow as she saw you haphazardly throwing clothes into bags.
”Packing!” You said with a tight lip, pacing around the room trying to get your stuff together.
”Baby, stop! What’s going on? Where do you think you are going?” She said with an amused smirk.
“What the hell do you think is so funny! Everyday you come in here and treat me like i’m your fucking sex slave that’s just here to please you and be your maid! I am packing my bags and staying with my sister.”, You said while trying to push past her before she grabbed you by your wrist to stop you and turn you to face her.
“You’re not gonna leave me baby, you know I love you. Daddy is just so stressed out from work, that it’s hard for me to do all the romantic things you love to do.” She says while holding you by the waist.
“It’s just that I want you to try, there are tons of women that would beg to take me out and buy me flowers, so I think I am going to go find one of them.” You said trying to break away before feeling a harsh sting on your cheek.
“You are such a slut, any excuse to whore yourself out to everyone. I bet this bag is filled with skimpy thongs and tight dresses for you to escapade around the town in.” She says as she rips the bag out of your hands and grabs both of your hands behind your back and leads you to the bed.
Pushing you face down on the bed, she rips your house dress down as you try to wriggle from her hold and smiles when she sees that you are without underwear.
“Look at how pretty you are baby, I can’t believe you thought you were gonna leave me. You are mine, all the panties in that bag are only for me to see. Do you understand!” She says as she harshly slaps your ass. “You know maybe if I fill you up and make you pregnant you’ll be happier with my long hours, having someone to keep you company.
“Come here.”, She says pulling you up into all fours, before swiping her fingers through your pussy. “You’re so wet for me baby. Is the thought of me getting you pregnant turning you on?”
“Yes daddy. Please fuck me, i’m sorry.”, You said while humping back into her trying to reach back and unbutton her dress slacks.
She swats your hands and moves to unbutton her pants and pull them along with her underwear down and tosses them across the room. Her 9 inch length pops out and hits your cunt and starts to harden, she then begins to jerk herself off in order to fully harden.
Before slipping in she spreads your ass with hands on both cheeks and licks all throughout your cunt, up and down taking your clit between her teeth. “My goodness baby, I can never get over how good you taste.”, She says after pulling away and planting kisses all over your ass and cunt, licking and sucking on the skin of your cheeks in order to leave bruises.
“God baby you make me so hard I just have to fuck you.”, She says after pulling away from your ass and lining her cock up with your entrance. With one strong thrust she bottoms out causing you to yelp. Picking up the pace, she grips your hips and with a steady speed she continues to ram into you from behind.
“Oh Natty, please it feels so good. You fuck me so well, I can’t take it i’m gonna cum.”, You say humping back onto her trying to match her pace.
“Oh not yet baby, you better hold it until I fill you up with my kids.” She husked into your ear, while reaching down to play with your clit. That combined with the unmatched stamina she has from her daily workouts, is making it impossible to hold out.
”Please, please, please, Nat please I’m gonna cum!”
“Okay baby, don’t worry I got you. I’m right there with you, so cum when you’re ready.” She grunts out in your ear while violently ramming into you trying to catch her high. “Uhh, there you go. Take it all, baby take all my cum.” She releases her load into your cunt, causing you to come right after her. Pulling out she flips you over and pushes you onto your back, fingering the oozing cum back into you to make sure it sticks.
Pulling her fingers out of your cunt, she licks them and then kisses up your body. Starting between your thighs, she kisses a trail up your stomach, stopping when reaching your chest. “You’re gonna look so sexy as the mother of my children.”, She says while pulling your nipple into her hot mouth, sucking and taking the other one between her skilled fingers, pulling and twisting. “I can’t wait for these tits to be filled with your sweet milk, for me to drink.”
“You know you can’t just fuck me and expect me to forget what i’m upset about!”, You say in between moans as she continues her assault on your boobs.
”Okay, yeah you’re right baby. Tell me, what were you upset about?”, She says, lifting her head from your breasts, looking face to face, with a smirk.
“No, i’m being serious. Of course I want us to have kids, but I don’t want to feel like a single mother. I want a wife that cares about her kids and spends family time with them and her wife. Please, Nat, I hate that I have to beg you to romance me and make me feel like I mean something to you!” You sit up and cover yourself with the blanket, while you wait for her to reply.
“Yes I understand baby, come here.” She says while pulling you into her lap. “I know i’m not the most present with you, and it seems like I only care about your body when I am stressed out from work, but I don’t. You are the love of my life, and I couldn’t live without you. I am so sorry that I have been so lousy at showing you that. I promise that I will try everyday to show you how much you mean to me and how much I need you. I don’t even know what I was thinking, not treating you like the goddess you are.” She said, grabbing you by the face and placing a kiss on your mouth.
You move to straddle her hips and grind down on her length, “Okay, baby if that’s how you feel I think we should keep going if we are gonna start trying to have a family.”, You say, leaning in to kiss her again.
#natasha romanoff smut#beefy!nat#black widow#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff fluff#fanfic#natasha romanoff x reader#g!p natasha#wlw smut#wlw#lesbian
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i love everything you write like i wake up just to read them over and over again. could i request some more angst to smut please (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)
JJK Men: Going from angsty to smutty!
Characters: Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Gojo Satoru, AFAB!Reader
Warnings: fighting, yelling, curing, smut, unprotected smut, creampies, dirty talk, making up, mentions of blood and death (Suguru’s) spitting daddy!kink, oral sex, male receiving
Word Count: 8,140 (oops)
A/N: HI Nonnie thank you for the request!! I'm so glad you're enjoying my stuff!! I had a lot of fun with these! I hope you enjoy! Love u! 💚💚💚
Nanami Kento:
Nanami Kento was leaving you again.
He left you once after you graduated high school, giving up the Jujutsu world for his salary job. That nearly destroyed you. You begged him to stay, but once he made up his mind, there was no changing it. So he left and was gone for four years. Until one day, he called Gojo, telling him he wanted back in.
Of course, you were happy to see him back, but you were hesitant to get close to him again. But fate had other plans for you. Everywhere you went, he was always there. Whether you were getting drinks at the vending machines, in the break room, walking around school, or grabbing drinks with your coworkers and friends afterward. He'd always give you a sweet smile and motion to a spot next to him, to which you would refuse until you drunkenly made the mistake of stumbling over to him one night.
He looked so handsome, his hair pushed back, tie discarded, and top buttons undone on his dress shirt. Watching him chug down his beer with a slight flush dusting his cheeks made you feel stupid emotions like longing, lust, happiness, and hopefulness. Maybe if you were to open the door to a relationship with him, it would work out. Both of you have matured so much over the years. Maybe if you gave it another shot, it would work this time.
The night you threw your arms around him after downing a ton of shots to give you the liquid courage even to approach him, he was kind enough to make sure he drank water, took you, and told you you would discuss it in the morning when you woke up the next day with the pounding headache, Nanami was there with aspirin and a water bottle. Even without the alcohol, you were able to tell him that you missed him; you missed the two of you together.
And Nanami felt the same.
That morning led to make-up sex and the beginning of your relationship for a second time—one stronger than the first, built on truth and trust. You never kept anything from each other, always being honest about how you felt and what you wanted in the future. Life had been great until he took you to dinner one late fall evening.
“I’m leaving for Malaysia in a month.” His words felt like he’d stuck red hot needles into your lungs, making breathing hard as your fork fell out of your hand, clanking against your plate. “I bought a property on the beach and will build a house there.”
“Y-You—you’re leaving?”
“Yes, I finally have enough money saved up that I can leave this place, not have to work, and spend the rest of my days reading the books I haven’t gotten a chance to— .”
Your timid voice interrupted him. “You’re leaving me?”
“Darling, it’s not—”
You grabbed your phone, fighting against the burning sting in your eyes. “No, it is.” You were not going to cry, not in front of him. “You’re leaving me again, Kento.” You shook your head, running your hand down your face with a pained laugh. “Oh my god, I’m such an idiot.” Without another word, you stormed out of the lounge room, your heart breaking with every step you took.
It felt like the walls around you were closing in on you. Your chest felt tight as you took deep, ragged breaths, trying to calm yourself down, as tears finally breached the wall you had put up around yourself. The instant those tears ran down your cheeks, your momentum faltered, the stride you had crashing down. You fell to your knees, gripping at your chest as the future you pictured with Nanami slipped away like a film strip burning after too much use.
He always thought about leaving, building a house on the beach somewhere. It was never about the two of you leaving together. Never ‘we’re’ going to build a house. ‘We’re’ going to live in Malaysia. It was always him. And you thought since you both matured, things would be different; maybe since you were sleeping together and you were supposedly in love, he would take you with him next time. Of course, that was a moronic and naïve thought.
You were losing him all over again.
When you finally came to your senses, you hurried back to your apartment. You tried making dinner, watching a movie, doing anything to distract yourself from the pain that had settled in your heart. But anytime a second passed when you weren't busy, moving, or thinking, Nanami’s words whispered in the depths of your mind.
How could he just up and leave you like this again?! It hurt so bad; it was almost soul-crushing. After all the plans you had made, like getting married when you retired, and the places you'd see. All those plans were suddenly garbage because he could finally live out his dreams. Dreams that you should be happy about! You didn’t want your boyfriend to continue to suffer in a job he disliked, constantly working overtime, wasting his life away.
What hurt the most was that he didn't even ask if you wanted to come with him!
The hurt slowly turned into rage, so hot and heavy that you didn't hear the door to the apartment creak open. Nor did you hear said boyfriend's keys dropping into the bowl on the entry table. You did, however, feel his hand gently grabbing your shoulders. To which you pulled away.
“Don't fucking touch me!” You barked out, whirling around, jabbing your finger into his chest. “I don't fucking want you touching me!”
Nanami winced at the pain in your voice, hurrying after you as you stormed towards the bedroom. “Love, please stop.” Nothing was said as you threw the covers back on your bed. “Please let me talk to you. Let's have an actual conversation like adults instead of children!” Frustration and anger were evident in his voice, emotions that only seemed to fan the flames of your anger.
“Are you insinuating that I—” you pointed to yourself, “am acting like a child?”
“When you refuse to speak to me, yes.” you laugh. It's cold and void of joy as you place your hands on your hips.
“You wanna talk?! Fine, let’s fuckin’ talk!” You toss the throw pillows to the ground with an anger that could fuel a bonfire. “I cannot believe you’re leaving me again!”
Nanami’s honey-brown eyes followed each pillow that slammed into the ground with a force that made him cringe. “Who said I was leaving you?” He cocked a brow in your direction as you crawled into bed, fluffing your pillows.
“You said ‘you’ were leaving for Malaysia, that ‘you’ we’re going to build ‘your’ house on the beach. So excuse me, you made it very clear that you are leaving.”
“I am—” You open your mouth to tell him you were right that you knew that already, but he held a hand up in front of him, ceasing your interjection. “But I want you to come with me.”
“Oh, please don’t treat me like I’m some item you forgot to pack! You told me it was your house, books, everything!”
Without so much as a word, your boyfriend stalked over to the bed, reaching into the suit jacket. You watched with rage-filled eyes as he handed you an envelope. Nanami didn’t say where you snatched the envelope out of his hands. Opening it up, you found two one-way tickets to Malaysia. One had your boyfriend‘s name on it, while the other had yours.
You found yourself staring at the tickets as if you stared long enough; you would somehow get the answers to the questions running through your head. It isn’t until the bed dips under Nanami’s weight that you finally look up at him. His eyes held no malice or anger; they drifted from the envelope before slowly meeting your confused gaze.
“I could have started the conversation out better. But you ran off before I could finish.” He took your hand in his, thumb gently stroking the side of your thumb. “Yes, I bought a property out in Malaysia. I plan on building a house on the beach, filling it with all the books I haven’t read.” He squeezed your hand. “But that house will never be a home without you in it. I want you to come with me; I promise I will take such good care of you.”
“Y-You want me to come with you?”
“Of course I do; I left you once, and that almost ruined us completely. Do you honestly think I would ever put us at risk like that again?” Big tears welled over your eyes, streaming down your cheeks. “I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you; please come with me.”
Nanami’s thumb gently brushed your tears away. His smile was gentle and warm, and you hiccuped, nodding your head in agreement. “Y-Yes, Kento, I would love to go with you!” He grinned, excitement in every part of his features, as he pulled you and kissed you deeply.
It was the kind of kiss that lasted a lifetime, conveying how sorry you were for the misunderstanding. A kiss that had started very soft and sweet before it turned into something more desperate and hungry. A kiss that had you shoving your boyfriend back against the bed.
“What are you doing?” Nanami asked with curious eyes as you unbuckled his belt.
“Shh, relax.”
Nanami had been confused at first, but all his questions were answered several minutes later as you bobbed up and down his thick girthy cock. His hand fisted your hair as he watched as tears pricked your eyes as you struggled to take more of him into your mouth. Each time you went down, he felt his tip hit the back of your throat, which in turn made you gag, coating his cock in more of a slick combination of your saliva and his pre-cum.
You were so beautiful, stunning, sucking his cock down eagerly. You gag, eyes flooding with tears as he looks down at you, grunting as his eyes shut. His hand gently strokes your hair, collecting it in a makeshift ponytail. You hummed happily, looking into his narrow eyes before he shoved you down until your nose brushed over his trimmed pubes.
“Look at my lover~ such a good girl making me feel good.” He shivers as you moan around him. “Fuck darling, yes~ just like that~ swallow my cock like a good girl.” He sighs out, his hips gently bucking up into your mouth. “Soo good~ all because I’m taking her to Malaysia where she won’t have to worry about working again.” There was something in his words that had you shuddering as you dipped your hand between your legs, rubbing your clit through your shorts. “Ooh? Do you like the idea of me taking care of you? Spoiling you rotten for all time?” The only response Nanami gets in return from you is the way you eagerly swirl your tongue around his cock. “Ahh, atta girl~ using her tongue to tell me.”
You planned to show him how much you appreciated him in many more ways. For now, this would do. Nanami held a firm grip on your hair as you bobbed faster, your hands reaching down, cupping his balls, squeezing them tight. Your sweet, considerate moans had him groaning into his hand, head falling back as you deep throat him. Making sure he knew how much you loved him, how much you appreciated him spoiling you and making sure neither of you had to deal with the mundane lives of the working force.
“Haaah yes~ fuck suck it~”
His dirty words have you rubbing yourself harder as you do as he commands. “mhmm!”
“That’s it~ good girl fuck are you gonna swallow it? Swallow all of my seed down your throat?”
You take more of him down your throat than you do. “Nngh!” Nanami chuckles, wrapping his hand around your hair as if it were his tie, forcing you down before yanking you back up and pushing you down again.
“Good girl, be sure to swallow every drop, and I’ll reward you.”
He’s thrusting his cock in and out of your mouth face fucking you as hard as he possibly can. You do your best to relax your throat, but drool seeps out the corners of your mouth, running down your chin. As Nanami focuses his attention on the tears that prick your eyes, you struggle to take him down further. It’s the struggling, effort, and the way you’re gagging and moaning around his thick, hard cock that in him tumbling over the edge of sweet release.
“Nngh fuck~! Fuuuck yes, swallow, swallow every last drop of it, and don’t let it spill out.” Your boyfriend growls as he continues, holding your head in place as he continues fucking into your mouth. “Yes~! Yes fuck!”
His cum is thick and hot, slowly sliding down your throat as you stare up at him. Admiring the flush that dances over his cheeks up to the tip of his ears. His face is scrunched up with pleasure as the waves of pleasure roll through him, leaving you wet and ready. Your clit twitched under your finger pads as Nanami pulled you off of his cock. You waited for him to lift you by your hair, bringing you close to his face. What you hadn’t been anticipating was for him to shove you down against the floor while he did his tie, letting it hang loosely around his neck.
“K-Kento—ooh!” You yelp as he forces your legs apart with both his hands, spreading them wide for him. “Whoa! Holy shit!”
“I’m going to make up for upsetting you.” He whispered, grabbing your shorts, yanking them down your legs, and throwing them behind him. “By making you squirt on my tongue.”
As Nanami trailed kisses up your thighs, you shuddered against the cool wooden floor, imagining if this was the same way he’d spoiled you when you were in Malaysia; instead of being on the floor, he would be on the sand at the beach. Maybe some fights and misunderstandings were worth having. You screamed out as Nanami took your clit into his mouth, sucking on it gently. Fuck, some fights were totally worth having!!
Geto Suguru:
“Suguru—” you whisper as your boyfriend grabs his bags, not stopping to look over his shoulder at you. “Do you have to take this mission?”
The dark-haired man taps his thumb against the center of his forehead. “Yes, everyone else is on their missions. I have to do this.” He slips on his shoes, and you can’t help but feel another part of him slip away with the action.
It has been a year since the Plasma Star Vessel, Amanai Riko, was killed and a year that your boyfriend has been suffering. He wouldn’t admit it, but you could see how he changed. He had lost weight, dark circles permanently resided under his eyes, and he had grown distant from you and your friends. Everyone had been worried, asking if he was okay, but he blamed it on the heat in the missions he was constantly sent on.
But you knew he wasn’t. He hadn’t been okay since Riko died. If he would talk to you and stop pushing you away, you might be able to help him.
“I could go with you.” You suggested, slipping on your sandals and following him out the door of the dorms. “My curse technique could be helpful.”
“It can, but this is a simple mission out in the countryside. You know the curses out there are weaker than those in the city. I’ll be back in no time, I promise.”
You want to scream and shout at him to beg him to talk to you. “I could help—”
“I just said it’s a quick miss—”
“I’m not talking about the mission, Suguru.” he stops, looking back at you from over his shoulder. “I can help you with whatever you’re going through. If you stop and talk to me, I’ll listen to you vent, scream, and curse the world. But I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on, Sugu.”
Cicadas buzz in the distance as your boyfriend stares at you with no words leaving his mouth. At this point, you’re fuming with anxiety, frustration, and anger over the silent treatment and him pushing you away. How would you help your boyfriend if you refused to talk to you? He didn’t want to talk to you or anyone else. If he didn't talk about it soon, the pain he had been bottling down for the last year was going to burst sooner or later.
You had hoped that your words might act as a voice of reason and that maybe speaking the truth would finally break him out of the stupor he found himself in. Your hopes didn’t have a chance to kindle, however, because all he did was sigh, turning his back on you with a shake of his head. That casual brushing off made your worry melt into rage. You stormed down the stairs, rushing after him to stand in his way, arm stretched out in front of you, preventing him from moving further.
“Talk to me!”
“I don’t want to!”
“Why the fuck not?!”
“Because you weren’t there! You don’t know what we went through. You wouldn't understand; you're just some girl I date. You have no clue how hard it was being one of the strongest.”
His words hurt, knocking you back a step. “What—?” Suguru shoved past you, storming down the steps. “What the fuck is your problem?!” Screamed, tears rolling down your cheeks. “I’m not just some girl! I'm your girlfriend! I am not someone you can talk to like that you can’t—”
“I don’t want to talk to you!” darkness flooded his eyes as he snapped his attention towards you. “Do you fucking understand me?” You were too stunned to speak. “Fucking drop it before I drop you.”
“Maybe I should be the one to break up with you then. If you don’t wanna talk to me, then I don’t see a reason for us continuing this relationship.”
Blurred your eyes as you looked over your shoulder, watching your boyfriend freeze his back and turn to you for a second. Instead of turning around to talk to you, he kept heading down the steps towards the car waiting for him. That was all the answer you needed from him. When he returns from his mission, you will give him all his stuff back since your relationship is over.
You had so much planned on what you wanted to say to him when you handed him all his shit when he got back to the school. You refused to keep fighting for a relationship that was as good as dead. Suguru needed to work through his issues, and maybe once he was feeling more like himself, you might consider talking to him, let alone working.
Those words and thoughts were titanium. Your resolve was set in stone, and you wouldn’t let him convince you that he was fine otherwise. He needed to heal to talk to someone. It broke your heart, but you weren’t the person he needed.
Saying all that, keeping true to your word was much easier said than done.
The resolve you claimed was stronger than titanium snapped like a twig when a call at two in the morning had you jumping out of bed. Suguru’s name flashed on your screen, and you forgot about the fight and the drama, answering your cell as fast as your hands would allow.
“Suguru?” You yelled, jumping to your feet. “Are you okay?”
The other line was silent before your boyfriend sighed. “I wanna talk.” You were slipping your shoes, nodding your head as he could see. “But I’m going to send you an address. Meet me there. Just don’t tell anyone where you’re going.” The fact he didn’t want anyone else coming with you didn’t bother you.
You stepped inside the hotel room Sugurh had messaged you about, and as you did, the scent of blood and smoke flooded your senses, making you question his reason for you coming alone. Glancing around the dark room, you found him crouching beside a bed where two little girls lay. They were bruised and bandaged up, holding each other’s hands as they peacefully slept. Your boyfriend watched them silently, his shirt splattered with the blood that still lingered on him before his eyes finally looked towards you.
“Suguru—what happened?”
“I’m going to remake the world.”
“Huh?” You step further inside the hotel room, approaching him cautiously. “What do you mean?”
“I’m going to kill the non-sorcerer and remake this world into a better one.”
You laughed softly, thinking that maybe he was just fucking with you. But the way his eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched, you knew otherwise. Your boyfriend was serious, deadly serious. It didn’t make any sense. This was your boyfriend, who saw it as Jujutsu Sorcerer's duty to protect non-sorcerers. This new ideal had to be one of the reasons he had been so standoffish with everyone.
Instead of scolding or yelling at him, you sat down on the bed adjacent to the young girls, observing your bloodstained boyfriend. He had done the one thing you asked him to do, and that was for him to talk to you. You gently padded the spot on the bed next to him with a gentle smile.
Suguru opened up to you about everything. Riko’s death, the clapping from the religious group members he was constantly hearing, and the discussion he had with Tsukumo Yuki. For the first time in months, you felt like you were finally listening to your boyfriend talk. Part of you felt relieved, but something else began to take a route in your stomach as he told you about Nanako and Mimiko. He had slaughtered an entire village, an action he stood by and one he did not regret.
“I’ll be banned from Jujutsu Society and given a death sentence. But I don’t regret what I did.” Suguru’s eyes were glued to the floor, hands in his lap. “But you deserve to know what I did. What I plan on doing, I will remake this world, ridding it of non-sorcerer, those useless damn monkeys.”
He wasn’t sure how you would react. He expected you to shout, yell, and look at him in utter disgust. Yet what you did left him stunned as you reached across his lap and took his hand in yours. Suguru watched as your clean fingers intertwined with his, giving it a gentle squeeze, trying draw his attention towards you.
“We’ll remake the world.” His eyes went wide as he sat up back stiff as a board as the light returned to his eyes. “I’m coming with you.”
“What? Why would you willingly say yes? I killed people. You understand that. I killed a lot of people, and I’m going to have to kill more.”
“I know.”
“Then why?”
“Because you have a point. I see the world you want to create, and I want to help you.” You turned your body to him, wiping dried blood on his cheek. “Because I love you.”
The icy wall that had formed between you both melted. Suguru grabbed you by the face, kissing you deeply. He snarled and growled into your mouth, pulling you to your feet and dragging you into the bathroom. His lips only left yours to remove your clothes. Start the shower and shut the door. Once he got his hands, mouth, his entire body pressed against yours, you didn’t stand.
Suguru had you pinned into the shower floor with your hands pinned above your head as he wrapped your legs around his waist. His hips furiously bucked into yours as his lips smashed and moved against your own, his teeth nipping and sucking at your lips, pulling it back before releasing it, drawing blood. He needed you with a deep, crazed passion. His cocks slammed in and out of your pussy. The lack of prep on both your parts had your walls stinging with each hard thrust into you.
“Haah! Fuck! Oooh fuck!!”
“You’re mine~! You’re fucking mine, and we could’ve remake this fucking world. You could stay by my side. You’re never gonna fucking leave me.”
His teeth finally gave up their ass assault on your lips, moving to attack your neck instead. “Nngh! Fuck! Suguru!” He growled, his ass clenching with each deep thrust into you, the curve of his cock hitting your g-spot perfectly, guttural moans from you.
“Fuuck, that’s right. Say my name. I missed hearing you say my name.”
“Suguru.”
“Yes—fuck what does my princess need?”
“W-Wanna touch you! Please, Sugu!”
You didn’t even need to beg; Suguru let go of your wrists, allowing you to wrap your arms around him, digging your nails into his back, scratching down his toned muscles. Your boyfriend hissed at the sting pain, but he returned the favor, digging his finger into your hips, grabbing you roughly fucking into you with the same momentum, making sure not only you would have bruises on your skin, but your poor pussy would be bruised as well. He wasn’t just leaving his mark on the world but also his pretty princess.
His dark, wet, damp hair fell over his shoulder as he slammed into you with one hand, reaching up to cut the back of your head, cradling it gently as he slammed into you with all of his strength. He was making up for the months that you hadn’t been intimate. He was ensuring that you knew how excited he was to have you on his side and to have you see the world as he saw it.
He fucking loved you.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I’m gonna cum; I’m gonna cum inside your pussy.” His into your ear, feeling the way you clamp down around him, his vulgar words. “Yeah, does my princess like that?”
“Yes!”
“The beg for it, beg me to cum in that tight little cunt.”
Your nails dug harder into his skin as you felt his cock twitching inside of you. “Please, please cum inside of me, Suguru! I need it! I want it so fucking bad!” His thrusting, the words he said, and the way he kept rubbing the head of his cock against your spot have your leg shaking body arching off the shower floor. “Oo-ooh! Fuck! I’m cumming! Cumming!!” You screamed as your walls convulsed around his cock, drawing out a deep moan from Suguru.
“Take it! Take it, baby~! Fuuuck~! Yes, cum on my cock~ cum for me, princess cum!”
The warmth of his cum filling you grinned as you happily peppered his neck with kisses. God, you missed this; you missed him. Once his thrust came to a stop, you hummed, kissing down his neck yourself. He smiled, chuckling weakly against your soft skin.
“Fuck,”
“Yeah, fuck.” You purred, holding him tight as his cock twitched inside of you. “I needed that so bad.”
As you both lay on the shower floor, Suguru held you tight. You rubbed your hands up and down his biceps, fingers trailing over his chest. As he watched your hands slowly move over his body, he realized how lucky he was to have you. You were throwing away your comfortable, stable life for him, leaving the world you knew behind to become a curse user who would help him obtain his goals. You were too good for him.
“God,” he whispered, pulling you up to his mouth, pressing his lips against yours in a heated kiss. “I can’t wait to rule the world with you.”
Gojo Satoru:
You loved your boyfriend. Gojo was an amazing partner and friend. But dating the strongest sorcerer of the modern age came with its downside. Satoru was consistently being the mission he was consistently sent on. You were supportive and always willing to wait for him. You stayed up late to talk to him when he was in different time zones. You made him his favorite meal when he got home.
You even understood when he would come home that he was tired and just wanted time to himself, like sleeping or snuggling you in the silence of his condo. You loved waiting at home for him, eager to help him relax and take some of the stress off of him whenever you could.
That was the usual routine until he started going out with his friends instead of you. He would often say he needed to go to a new cafe and get himself a sweet treat; it was like a reward to himself. Which you didn’t mind; in fact, you encouraged it! If Satoru wanted to go out, he could. You weren’t the type of girl to be all controlling or suspicious of his actions. At the end of the day, as long as he came home to you, you didn’t mind when he did. You were happy as long as he was getting the stress relief he needed.
And he needed that kind of stress relief with the higher-ups making him work as much as they were. It felt like every other weekend, he was getting sent on missions, which was strange because it was summertime. There shouldn’t have been as many curses since it was the slow season for you guys. You didn’t question it at all. Instead, you continued to offer to be there to support him if he needed you.
Until you caught him.
It was supposed to be a girl's night; you, Utahime, and Shoko went to the local bar to enjoy a few cocktails and vent about your day. When you walked in, you sat in your booth, sipping on your Sex on the Beach, while Shoko sighed, finishing her fifth shot of whiskey. Her eyes kept dying behind you before I glanced at the table, running her long-painted nail over the rim of the glass.
“So, where did they ship Satoru off to this time?” She asked, smiling as the waiter brought her another drink.
“Mhm,” you swallowed the drink in your mouth, “Ireland, something about some castle curse or something. I don’t know. It seems like there’s been a lot of activity, which is weird.”
“Ireland, huh?” Shoko sighed, taking another peak over your shoulder. “Bastard didn’t even bring back souvenir for me. You would think he would bring me back some Irish whiskey.”
“Well, he might; he should be back tomorrow night.” Your friends' reactions mirrored each other. It was a look that spoke volumes, one that had your stomach unsettled. “What? Why are you guys looking at each other like that?”
“Gojo is still in Ireland?”
“Yeah—?”
Shoko sucked down a breath rubbing at the back of her neck, before pulling out her cigarette box. “Well, don’t look now, but I think your boyfriend got back sooner than you thought.” She points behind you with her cigarette.
Turning your head, your eyes go wide, finding your boyfriend sitting in a booth with his closest friends. In Tokyo, and not in Ireland like he had told you an hour beforehand. You felt like the room was spinning, and it wasn’t because of the small amount of alcohol you had drank. No, it was because of the carefree look on his face as he smacked Geto on his back before downing his cola.
Your body moved before you could even think. Rushing forward, pushed past strangers, hurrying towards your boyfriend, who hadn’t even noticed you running towards him. His friends, however, did notice. Geto smiled as he waved at you, Nanami nodded his head in acknowledgment, and Haibara leaned his head back against the booth, turning his head just as you slammed your hands down on the table.
“Oh, hi! How are you doing tonight?” Haibara cheerfully greeted, sitting up straight, eyes sparkling. “I thought Gojo said you were out on a mission.”
Upon hearing his name brought into the conversation, your boyfriend turned his attention towards you before spurting out the cola he had been drinking, the liquid coming out his mouth, and he coughed harshly into his fist. You felt sick to your stomach, and your chest felt tight. Why would he lie about being home?
“Funny, he said the same thing about himself.”
“Sweetie, I uhm—“
“How was Ireland?” You questioned, tilting your head and crossing your arms over your chest.
Suguru cocked a pierced brow, his dark eyes darting towards his best friend, who looked like he was about ready to shit bricks. “Ireland? I thought you said that’s where she was at?” All eyes seem to focus on your white-haired boyfriend as the back of your throat burns with unshed tears.
“So I guess it’s at least good to know. I’m not the only one you’re lying to.” You rolled your eyes, storming out of the bar and snatching your purse from Shoko, who was watching. “Bye.”
“Sweetie! Honey, wait!”
“No! I have nothing to say to you right now that would be remotely good!” You yelled back at him, listening to his footsteps over the sticky bar floor. “So please leave me alone.”
“Baby!” His slender fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you back towards him. “Listen! I—fuck, I’m sorry!”
“Sorry for what you did, or sorry you got caught in a lie? One that you apparently had told several different people.”
There was nothing he glanced aside from instead of staring at the floor. “I’ve just been overwhelmed with work and didn’t want to come home.” The tone in his voice is almost comical.
“Okay? When have I ever had an issue with you going out? You could’ve just told me the truth instead of lying.”
“I just felt like I’ve been neglecting your needs, but I feel like I’m not in a position to be there for you in the way you need.”
For a second, your boyfriend thinks you might stop to give him the time to listen to what he has to say. Instead, you yank your arm out of his grip, letting it limply fall to your side. Gojo can see the pain in your eyes. Pain that he wanted to avoid putting on you, but instead, he’s pretty sure he had caused more pain.
“So you lied about being on a work trip?” He says nothing. “Good to know you feel that way.”
You start heading back out to get an Uber, but Satoru is right behind you. “Baby please, I just, I feel so tired all the time. I just need to unwind.” You turn back around, shooting daggers up at him.
“Fucking unwind! Do whatever you want! I don’t give a fuck!”
“Then why are you so upset?”
“Because you fucking lied to me!” You screamed, causing him to wince through his teeth. “You called me today and told me you were in Ireland! When you could have told me, ‘Hey babe, I’m going out with the guys,’ instead, you fucking lied to me!”
Satoru frowned, not knowing what to say in a situation like this. A problem that he had created himself. One that could’ve easily been avoided if he had told you the truth. So, instead of saying anything, he just dropped his head down in shame.
You fought against the urge to somehow break through his infinity and slap the shit out of him. But since that was impossible, he watched as you wiped the welling tears from your eyes with a shaky sigh. With a swallow and a deep breath, you turned away from him, heading to the car that pulled up to the curb for you.
“W-Wait, where are you going?!”
“Home.”
Without so much is another word, you got in the car, and your boyfriend watched as it drove off down the street. He had messed up royally this time. So much so he wouldn’t be surprised if you were to break up with him at this point. Gojo had been so stressed, and he didn’t want you going above and beyond to take care of him when you were just as stressed as he was. he saw how you acted. You made it a point to cook his favorite meals to buying him his favorite sweets, when you had the same dark circles under your eyes from your hard work being a sorcerer.
You seemed to enjoy helping him out like that. Like it was a highlight of your life. So, instead of sitting down and talking to you like a normal person, he decided to go out with his friends. Giving yourself time to hang out with your friends, read a book or catch up on some well-deserved rest. He should’ve just talked to you about this but didn’t want to hurt your feelings.
But in trying to protect your feelings, he had hurt you even more. He couldn’t just idly stand and let this be the end of the conversation. He needed to talk to you and tell you how sorry he was in person.
When you got home, you could smell Gojo in the apartment. You weren’t expecting to smell his cologne, seeing that you had left him twenty minutes prior at the bar, but the asshole was able to teleport himself wherever he wanted. So much is saying a word. You threw your purse on the entryway table before storming towards the bedroom, where, low and behold, he was waiting for you.
He sat on the edge of the bed, cerulean eyes snapping towards the door as you walked in. “Sweetie.” He hesitantly spoke, hurrying after you as you headed into the bathroom. “Look, can we talk?”
“About what? Your next mission: what are you going to China or something? Or is it just another excuse for you to hang out with your friends?”
You were pissed. This would be one of those moments you held over his head for all time. “Look, I fucked up, big time.” You laughed, glancing at him in the mirror as you took your shirt off. “Okay, majorly fucked up, I should’ve talked to you, but I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” The cold, dark stare you gave him in the mirror told him that your feelings were already hurt, and his reasoning was stupid to bring up at this point. “Will you please just listen for a second? Let me apologize properly.”
While the idea of fumigating in your anger was tempting, you knew if you didn’t give him the opportunity to, he wouldn’t get off your ass for the rest of the night. Shaking your head, you turned to face him as you leaned against the glass door of the walk-in shower. A certain relief settled inside Gojo’s chest as he stepped closer towards you.
“I’m sorry for lying. I should’ve been honest with you. But you always get so excited taking care of me when I get home that I didn’t wanna hurt your feelings.” The pinch of your brows softened as he spoke. “You spoil me fucking rotten. I honestly don’t deserve someone as good as you. I’m an egotistical, arrogant, pompous asshole, and you were too good for me. Even though I can see how tired you are, you always make an appointment to put me first.”
“Toru—”
“So I decided to take a step back and relieve some of my stress by hanging out with the guys. Lately, you’ve been so rundown. So I’ve told you I was going to Ireland so you could have a night to yourself. You have to worry about dinner or taking care of or making me feel good when you should be taking care of yourself as well as you take care of me. Fuck I should be taking care of you. But I’m just so fucking tired. I don’t have the energy to do that, and unfortunately, I’ve neglected you and your needs.”
“No—Toru, I see where you’re coming from, and it’s alright.”
“No, it’s not alright. Nothing about this is alright. I should’ve talked to you instead of lying to you, and I fucked up.” He hesitantly reached out, grabbing your hand and squeezing it gently. “I’m sorry I lied. I should’ve told you the truth.”
You were still angry over him lying to you. he could’ve been more of an adult and told you what he felt. But simultaneously, you could see where he was coming from. You had been putting a lot of effort into taking care of him and thus neglecting your own needs. He was right; you were as tired as he was. Not only did you have your own missions to go on, but on top of taking care of the condo and trying to make him feel comfortable, you hadn’t put time away for yourself. In his reasoning, he was trying to take care of you like you had taken care of him.
You allowed him to take your hand, squeezing his fingers back. “I swear to God if you lie to me like this ever again, and I catch you at the bar with your friends when you’re supposed to be in Ireland, I will kick your ass all the way there myself, Gojo Satoru.” he wins at the use of his full name, but your boyfriend pulls your hand tugging you into his chest.
“Noted, I promise I won’t ever do that shit again. I’m really sorry, baby.”
“It’s fine. We both got overwhelmed and instead of communicating, we just ignored it. Next time, I think we can do better as a couple. That way, this sort of shit doesn’t happen again.”
Gojo nods before he presses his chin against the top of your head, wrapping his long, lanky arms around you. “Right, I can do that.” You into his chest, sighing happily. “Is it too late to start communicating our feelings now?” You giggle, you’re almost bare chest rumbling against him.
“Depends on what exactly you want to talk about.”
Gojo pulls his chin off your head before grabbing your face in his hand. He lifts your head, forcing you to look at his beautiful, stunning eyes. “I don’t really wanna talk. I want to feel. I want to make you feel good. If you’re not too angry with me.” You slowly run your hands up his chest, smiling lovingly at him.
“I can’t say no to you.”
One steamy make-out session later ended with you both pressing each other against the walls in the bathroom; Gojo had you pressed against a wall, wrapping you up in his arms and holding you in his chest. "I missed you so much, sweetheart. So fucking much." The hot, steamy water from the running shower made the bathroom hot. He kissed you gently.
“I missed you too, Toru.” You whispered against his lips with a giggle as you brushed some of his hair out of his eyes.
His hand moved up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently rubbing your soft skin. "Can I kiss you again?" Instead of answering his question, you close the distance between your lips, kissing him deeply, wrapping your arms around his neck, and pulling him closer. Satoru grunted, leaning forward and slamming his hands against the glass door to the shower. “Fuuck missed you, baby.” He slowly pressed his lips to yours, holding his breath momentarily as he just kissed you like there was no tomorrow.
“Mhmm Satoru~”
He pulled away after a moment, his hands still holding your face. "God— Fuck, I missed hearing you sent my name like that." He held you tight, pressing your head to his chest as he slowly dried his fingers down your back.
“I’ve missed saying it,” you pressed gentle kisses up his chest, flicking your tongue over his nipple. “But I missed moaning it more.”
"Oh, you have?" He felt his heart and cock flutter at that, smiling softly.
“Ooh yeah, I’ve missed your cock.”
Gojo cocked an eyebrow with a smirk. "Well, I guess we have something. We have to do something about that then?~" He pulled you tighter against his body, his hardening cock rubbing against your bare hip. "I missed that amazing pussy, too~."
You whined, looking up at him. "I want you now, Toru." You whispered as you wrapped your hand around his cock, gently stroking him with a twisting motion.
“Oooh fuck baby.” His eyes slowly shut, his cock immediately completely hard. "Yeah does my sweet little girl need her Daddy’s cock?" He groaned softly, still holding you close against his bare ivory skin.
“Yeah~ I need it fuckin’ bad.”
Satoru bit his lip, his cock twitching in your hand. "Fucking okay, sweetie, I’ll give it to you.” He groaned, lifting you, pressing you against the glass wall of the shower. "God, I can't fucking resist you."
"Ah~!" You gasped out, your eyes glossy with need. "Fuck, please." You’d had sex against walls before, but this was needier, and fuck, it made you wet. "Fuck me, Toru~ fuck me until I squirt on your fat cock."
Just hearing you say those things made him shiver, leaning into you, kissing you deeply. "Of course, sweets~" He groaned as he held his hand up to you. “Spit.” You followed his instructions, spitting into his hand. He moaned as he rubbed it on his cock in place of lube. Once his cock was slick, he held you up by your waist and slowly lowered her down onto his aching length.
"Fuck!" You cried out, your eyes rolling back. "Oh god, y-you're so fucking big." Your whimpers grew louder as he stretched you out with his thick cock. "Fuck me, Toru!"
“Ahh fuck—“ Satoru let out a small growl, his left arm holding your waist and his right hand moving up to toy with your clit. "That’s right, sweetie, moan for me. Let’s get another fucking noise complaint from our neighbors ~" He pistoned his hips He pistoned his hips into you, thrusting fast and hard, chasing his already-building orgasm.
He glanced up, watching your eyes roll back, your hands gripping his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin. Loud sounds escaped your mouth as you looked into his eyes, dilated with pure animalistic need. He leaned in, kissing you deeply, swallowing your moans he fucked into you.
"Fuck, you're so damn pretty, Sweetheart~" He groaned, wet slapping sounds reverberating off the walls with every thrust. " O-Oh god, I'm—not going to last long. I've been so pent up!”
You weren’t in much of a better position than him feeling him, slamming into his curved cock, hitting every special spot inside of you. At the same time, his right hand played with your clit and had you on the edge so ridiculously fast you’re pretty sure he was about to world record. Satoru watched as your eyebrows knitted together as you stared into his eyes. There was a desperation in your beautiful eyes as you cried out his name, telling him you were close.
“G-Gonna cum Toru~! Gonna cum!”
At least you were able to form coherent words. Feeling your walls flutter and hearing the sweet sound that left your lips made Satoru’s hips stutter, and he moved, slamming his lips to yours as he gripped your hips, shoving you down all the way on his cock as he groaned, releasing his cum into you. Feeling his warm seed fill you sent you right over the edge with him, making you tilt your head back as sweet moans of his name left your lips.
“Missed you.” That was the only thing your boyfriend said before pressing a kiss to your lips again. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Toru.”
“I’ll never lie to you again.”
“Thank you—Ah!” You squealed as he opened the shower door, stepping inside with you. “Toru!”
“So when I tell you we’re going eight rounds tonight, you better fuckin’ believe it’s happening.” Gojo would show you just how sorry he was for hurting you. Even if that meant you were hurting from all the sex you were about to have the next day.
Forever Tag List:
@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree
#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#jjk#jjk reader smut#jjk reader insert#jjk y/n#jjk men#jjk men smut#jjk men x reader#jjk gojo smut#gojo x reader smut#geto x reader smut#nanami x reader smut#satoru gojo smut#suguru geto smut#nanami kento smut#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen reader smut#jujutsu kaisen reader insert#jjk reader#jjk imagines#jjk fic#jjk angst#jjk fanfic#jjk gojo#jjk geto#jjk nanami#nanamin#gojo satoru smut
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Nanami NSFW Headcanons
Lemme know if you want me to elaborate/write something about any of these
18+ content below the cut, mdni, implied chubby fem!reader
Enjoy! 💙
☆ Starting controversial agaaaain, but like I said with Toji, I just don’t see him being a hard dom either. This man will never call you a whore, would be offended if you requested he call you a bitch or cumdump—I think he’d be okay with slut, but he wouldn’t say that unless you ask
☆ Very firm about his boundaries, he won’t do anything he doesn’t feel comfortable doing & you won’t be able to change his mind. Very respectful of yours & will never push them
☆ Lowkey loves to be praised & doted on. His ears turn very pink when you tell him how good he’s making you feel, or how big his cock is, or if you tell him his voice is sexy
☆ The fact you find his voice sexy confuses him—he thinks it’s too monotone, and he isn’t exactly the smoothest guy out there with his words. He’s not very talkative in general, and that extends to sex as well. Once you express how much it turns you on, however, he will dirty talk more, and more often as he builds confidence doing it (dirty talk is hard you guys, be patient with him!!!)
☆ Nanami is stiff, and awkward when your sexual relationship begins. He doesn’t have a ton of experience, and his stoic nature can make moments of passion challenging for him. If you’re more experienced, you’ll probably take the lead, and it’s something he’s very thankful for.
☆ If you’re less or equally experienced, he’ll take the lead. He’ll be honest about his own lack of experience, and the two of you will explore uncharted territory together—so sweet
☆ Even during the early stages when he’s awkward his intensity, observant nature, generosity, and thoroughness have an allure of their own
☆ He definitely warms up with time though, so don’t fret. Sex has never been at the forefront of his mind, so he discovers his kinks/preferences through your relationship
☆ As I said before, Nanami is a very generous lover; making you feel good makes him feel good. He’s the type that can come from eating you out, which is especially hot if he’s dressed in those formal clothes of his
☆ He loves toys, uses a vibrator on you almost everytime you have sex. Nanami is a very practical person; the vibrator makes you feel so good, and allows him to put more focus on other ways of pleasing you—why wouldn’t he use it? The notion that some men hate them bc they threaten their egos bewilders him
☆ Your vibrators are basically never dead because Nanami is on TOP of those things; he’s gotta make sure it’s ready for whenever the mood strikes you guys. The days you’re home and he’s at work you’ll occasionally get a ‘is the vibrator on the charger?’ text, reminding you like a parent would their kid about the chicken they’re supposed to thaw LMFAO
☆ Not a tease at all. If you say please he’s gonna do it!! If you tell him you want to be teased in the bedroom he’ll try his best but it doesn’t take much before he relents :/
☆ Breeding kink yes, but I just KNOW he’s a vasectomy man (unless yall decide to pop some kiddos out). He’s just too responsible to be risky, & doesn't want his partner to feel obliged to take on the responsibility of birth control all alone. Perfect man, truly
☆ Nanami loves some good ol’ fashioned missionary—who doesn’t? But he also really enjoys positions where he can just hold you close, and focus on the intimacy of the moment and the physical sensations rather than the visuals. Prone bone, and cuddlefucking are prime examples; when he rests his head in your neck, his free hand squeezing all your softness, he’s in heaven
☆ Nylons, pantyhose, stockings: wear them if you want to get destroyed. If you got thigh-highs that pinch your leg? Hoooooo boy. He’s not typically a biter, but the squishy parts hanging over the stocking will be gnawed on. Just accept they’ll be bruised, you’ll be ok
☆Nanami is very appreciative of lingerie, and does not tear it off, he’ll have you keep them on the whole time
☆ Huuuuge sucker for scents. Perfume, soap, laundry detergent—he appreciates good smells, and once he starts associating certain smells with you they get him going
#Nanami smut#nanami x reader#nanami x you#nanami x chubby reader#chubby reader#idk why I have so many thoughts for him he isn’t even my favorite LOL#dreams of nanami ☁︎#headcanons ☽#nanami headcanons#dreams ☽#wet dreams ☽
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your first time together - jeno (idol AU)
IMAGINE: you have dinner with him after work, as always, but maybe you drink a little too much wine this time and things get very comfortable...
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
• you two were still sitting at the kitchen counter, plates empty as well as your glasses. your cheeks were flushed while jeno's eyes were glossy, all due to the bottle of red wine you both shared.
• you were just talking nonsense and giggling at this point, the lightness and warmth brought by the alcohol creating a buzzling in the air.
• you weren't officially dating, yet. you spent time together whenever your schedules let you... so only in the evening, when you two weren't too exhausted. being so busy between work and college... this was your first serious relationship and you were still a virgin.
• jeno was aware that a relationship wasn't in your plans and he didn't mind taking it slowly, he just- you were the best thing of his days, your presence was just so comforting he also tought that maybe he liked you just as a friend... but after the first kiss he stopped lying to himself.
• "stop looking at me like that, jeno lee" "like what?"
• you smile and cup his cute face with your hands. "you're so pretty"
• he moves his gaze to your lips. "you're the most beautiful woman i ever saw"
• a ton of butterflies swings freely in your stomach and you lean in to have a kiss. but one is not enough for him: jeno puts a hand on your neck to prevent you from pulling away and deepens the kiss.
• he moans when your tongue finds his and you rest your hands on his broad shoulders, feeling his tense muscles relaxing under your light touch.
• he whispers between kisses. "can i have you closer?"
• you don't think about it twice and get up to sit on his lap, just to resume your heated kiss right away.
• jeno's hands sneak around your waist to have a taste of your soft curves and just by touching you like that he feels the familiar knot in his stomach urging him to have more from you.
• following your instinct, you start to leave wet kisses along his jawline and then his neck, making his brain go numb.
• when you stop, he opens his eyes to look at you, hands still on your hips.
• you let yourself relax in his embrace and take off your hoodie: he seems to analyze every inch of your exposed skin and when he rest his forehead between your breasts, he let out a cry.
• "oh my god"
• you laugh and massage his scalp. "are you okay?"
• "no, i need to calm down" "and why is that?"
• he looks up at you from his new favourite spot and you can see his pupills trembling.
• "i don't want to make you uncomfortable but... i think i'm going to-"
• he stops and you flinch feeling his bulge getting hard all of a sudden under your ass.
• he sighs and starts to get up to distance himself but you stop him and smile at him. "it's okay..."
• he looks at you like a pleading puppy. "really? are you sure?"
• you nod. "but- i... never did it"
• he widen his eyes for a second, but when you pull the hem of his black t-shirt, he gulps and takes it off.
• you kiss him again and he stands up, gripping your tighs, while you explore his naked torso with your hands in awe.
• when he reaches your bedroom, he lays you down gently on your bed and searches for your eyes.
• "we can stop whenever you want, okay? i want you to talk to me" "okay"
• he smiles and starts to undress you trying to focus on your reactions but shit- your body is very distracting.
• when you're completely naked, he starts to kiss your neck and you feel his hand on your core. he starts to touch you and you relax instantly.
• "jeno-" he stops immediately. "i want to feel you... properly"
• he smiles seeing you blushing and he nods, removing his pants and boxers. and when you finally interlock, you can enjoy every second of your first time together because he makes sure to take care of you and your pleasure.
• and when it's over, he rolls on his back and pulls you to his chest, caressing your back gently.
• "are you okay, baby?" "very"
• he had to admit to himself that he couldn't wait to get to know you more and more, you were just- on another level.
• "can you be mine? please"
• you giggle and plant a kiss on his chest. "that would mean having you all for myself... sounds great"
• "(.◜◡◝)"
♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤
masterlist
♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤
#nct#nct dream#nct dream imagines#nct fanfic#nct imagines#nct jeno#jeno imagines#lee jeno#jeno#jeno x y/n#jeno nct#jeno x you#jeno x reader#jeno lee
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Extremley Urgent Action Needed
Hi everybody i hate to to it but im in a realy bad spot and ive been pretty much bummed out really badly lately and lots of people on here are actually being really bad to me constantly and telling me lots of mean shit all the time and im pretty much in a super bad spot because im mentally fucked up badly right now and the theres some some holidays and shit comign up and i dont give a fuck about heaven or hell cuz my life is fucked anyways and going to shit so i dont know how it could really get worst but i pretty much want to treat myself and practice self care by making the right choices for me and getting shit that i really want as a gift to myself since nobody else will ever get me free shit since im a societal freak and a piece of shit apparently and something i really want is a Cast Iron Money Man
So the great part about the guinness Stout moneyman is that on top of making me enjoy my life for once in my fcking life if i had him it would teach me how to save my coins and put them in a safe place so they dotn keep falling down the drain because whenever im counting my pennies and other brown or shiny colored coins its always in the sink cuz thats the only place not filled to the brim with stupid shit i keep finding LOL i keep finding shit on the ground and in the trash and its often interesting as fuck shit like a stick that would be realy goood for turning into a weapon if needs to be if i was attacked from every angel a great way to fight them and a perfect advantage to have is to have the range advantage so if the thieves and other bandits were coming at me with knives and shit i would be able to bash them with my stick and maybe break there bodys while im at it and i could legaly say i killed them to defend my self and all my other shit so anyways theres tons of shit everywhere and since i just throw away my dishes when im done with them because they are way to dirty and beyond even the level to get it cleaned no more cuz shit is dried on there and wont come off if i make it wet i just gie up so that means theres never shit in my sink exept for the coins when im counting them but the big problem is i dont have a money man made out of cast iron to keep my coins safe so they fall down the drain and when i try to pop them up by dumping oil in the drain and using gargage disposal switch it just crunches them up and shoots fragments into my glasses and always breaks my glasses so i always have to get new glasses since they are always breakign whenever i lose my coins but the big problem is since i dont have my coins no more since they all get all torn up and shit its super hard to afford new glasses or food at all even though i dont technicaly have to eat its always fun to eat yummy shit so please consider to send me money to help muy shit as fuck mental get better and invest in my prosperity i promise u it will trickle down to u and u will benefit from my well being im actually working on a new CD right now with dope as fuck music but its realy really hard to be creative when i dont want to get out of bed because im always hung tf over from drinking a shit load of top notch gin a the pub all night and feeling super depresed basicaly my Guinenss beer Shaped money man would be a perfect way to solve my problems let me know if u want to help by clicking the beer above and giving me money to spend on my cast iron money man
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A Cinderella Story || Anthony Bridgerton
-PART TWO-
Summary: Have courage, and be kind. Words that you tried to live by ever since the passing of your parents. Though your step-mother and step-sisters did everything in their power to hide you and your status away from the rest of the Ton, you never expected to catch the eye of Viscount Anthony Bridgerton himself.
Authors Note: This is my first Bridgerton series! I had an absolute ball writing this, and I hope you enjoy it! There is a tag list open if anyone wishes to be kept updated for future parts. I would also like to apologise for the previous tag list not working! It has been fixed now! Gif by @fifty5hades
|PART ONE|
The horses had been restless ever since you had arrived in town. Lady Worthington, Elizabeth and Mary had been traversing between multiple shops for hours now, the three of them making multiple trips back to stuff every inch of the carriage full of boxes and bags that contained every expensive item of clothing imaginable.
The horses flinched every time the carriage doors slammed closed, their heads lifting upward as they were startled by the harsh sound. But after a few gentle pats and sweetly whispered words, the two black geldings calmed down and went back to their idling. You released a deep sigh, gently ruffling the horses’ mane as you people watched. Lords and Lady’s strolled by, some of them sneering at your dirty and slightly big dress, but you didn’t mind. You never had minded.
Sure, these clothes weren’t kept in line with their usual standard upkeep, but it was all that you had. Clothes were better than none at all. You had been so caught up tending to the horses, that you hadn’t noticed the figure creeping up behind you along the cobblestones. You jumped as the culprit tickled your sides, releasing a loud shriek as you spun around to meet the face of a young girl you knew all too well.
“Oh god, Eloise! Don’t do that!” You cried, the young Bridgerton cackling at your fright. She smiled, lightly punching your shoulder as she cried “Oh come on, this is the first time I have seen you in weeks! Does that wicked woman lock you up in a tower or something?”
“She might as well…” You replied sharply, gripping the harness of the horse closest to you “I haven’t seen the sun in days.”
“Don’t you joke about that, you know I will actually have my brothers come and save you from that hell” Eloise teased, pointing her finger at you with a stern expression. You rolled your eyes, shaking your head as a small yet grateful smile graced your lips.
Eloise Bridgerton, the fifth eldest in the Bridgerton family, had figured out who you were the first moment she had met you. She was smart and witty, and had instantly put two and two together, and had no problem reminding you whenever she ran into you on the street.
The daughter of one of the most prominent Lords on the ton, suddenly vanishes after her father’s unfortunate and sudden death, running away due to the grief and sadness at the loss of her parents. Then not two days later, a new maid is hired. The ton wasn’t the biggest fan of the Worthington family, according to Eloise. The horror stories she had heard from Daphne and her brothers were more or less disturbing to say the least. She had never met your stepsisters, and prayed that she never would, but of course with the latest season coming up, that might be a little hard.
You turned to face Eloise fully, leaning back slightly as the horse’s head chased after your attention, obscuring your view slightly. “And just what are you doing in town? I thought you would have been at home preparing for Lady Danbury’s ball this evening?”
Eloise groaned loudly, slumping against the side of the carriage with a loud thump. You laughed softly at her behaviour, watching as she rolled her eyes and turned her gaze skyward. “Though I so wish that I could stay at home and read the night away, my mother has made it clear that I am to find something nice to wear for this evening. I am being chaperoned by my brother-“
“Oh?” You asked teasingly, chuckling at the glare that formed on her face “and which brother do you have the pleasure of accompanying you tonight?”
“Oh, you are so funny…” Eloise grumbled, crossing her arms over her front with a huff “…I am being chaperoned right now! ‘So that I may not run away’, according to Anthony.”
Your laughter echoed throughout the street, as Eloise rushed forward and begged you to keep quiet. You held your stomach and wiped a stray tear from your eye, releasing the horse’s harness as you did so. “Oh Eloise, I will say I do not envy you-“
“Oh but I envy you! But remember you used to be a part of this life”
“The only ball I went to was when I was a child, and even then, I don’t remember that much of it”.
Eloise scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief. “To be blessed with such fortune as you have, though I suppose being related to Lady Worthington can be accustomed to being related to a toad-“
“Shhhhhhh!” You hushed, pressing a finger to your lips as Eloise smirked “Don’t say such things out loud! They could be back any minute-“
“Oh, I don’t care much. That woman is despicable-“
You watched her eyes widen, her words dying out as a small squeak replaced her sentence. Focused on the space behind you, you turned quickly and froze, suddenly feeling rather small and very aware of your current dress.
Anthony Bridgerton, the Viscount himself stood before you. He stood tall, hands clasped together behind his back as his deep brown eyes flickered between the two of you. You suddenly felt self-conscious the longer he stared at you, but you were the first to look away as you bowed your head, and once again returned to tending the horses.
“Must you always be difficult, dear sister” The Viscount spoke sarcastically, a small huff escaping him as he clenched his jaw in annoyance. You heard Eloise groan, “Must you always insist on stopping and chatting with every Lord you see? Surely it gets rather tiring”.
“It is polite, Eloise…” he spoke through gritted teeth “need I remind you that your prospects this season rely on me helping you to find a suitable husband-“
“Ah yes, because Daphne’s season went so unbelievably well. Tell me dear brother, how was it that Lord Berbrooke became our dear sister’s only suitor for some time, hm? Who, pray tell, was responsible for that match, until our lovely Daphne married the Duke of Hastings?”
The scowl that formed on the Viscount’s face caused an unpleasant shiver to run down your spine, but you couldn’t help but chuckle softly as Eloise stuck out her tongue in retaliation to her brother’s disapproving look.
You turned your gaze upward and met the Viscount’s eyes. He was looking you over, his scowl turning into a gentle smile as he sighed heavily. “You’ll have to forgive my sister, unfortunately she seems to forget her manners when in public” he spoke informatively, sneering at Eloise as she rolled her eyes and mumbled under her breath.
You shrugged your shoulders, “There’s nothing to forgive, my Lord. I am well acquainted with your sister’s antics I’m afraid-“
“Don’t you dare take his side Y/n!” Eloise screamed, stomping her foot like and annoyed child. You laughed a reply, noticing the man beside you chuckling alongside you “We both know you’re not the biggest fan of society Eloise, I am simply stating fact-“
“I never thought you would betray me like this…how could you” She spoke softly, clutching her chest in mock-hurt as she dramatically slid down the side of the carriage, coming to rest on the step below the door. You heard the Viscount laugh, “Perhaps Miss Y/n here as a point. You will have to be on your best behaviour tonight, so I suggest that perhaps you should start practicing your etiquette before then-“
“You are both the worst” Eloise grumbled, standing up from the carriage step and slowly walking towards the store front before her. “If anyone needs me, I will be inside. The two of you can gossip about me at your own leisure while I suffer numerous dress-fittings inside” She whined, opening the door and disappearing inside.
You once again turned your attention back to the Viscount, looking up at him shyly as you fiddled with your hands in front of you. “Your sister does mean well, you know. Forgive me for speaking out of turn, but I am lucky to have a friend like her, especially at my status.”
He smiled at your words, his eyes meeting yours and softening on your form. You felt nervous under his gaze, with how he was looking at you with such interest. No Lord had ever looked at you like this, nor even recognised your presence. It was nice.
“I know she has the best intentions, yet it is the way that she goes about them that sometimes hinders her reputation” He replied, sighing heavily as he watched you intently for your reply. You shrugged “Well, she is a part of one of the most famous and revered families on the ton, she is constantly under the public’s watchful eye. What is the harm of having some freedoms here and there?”.
Your question was innocent enough, but you noticed the Viscount’s brow furrow as he thought on your words. His gaze fell to the cobblestones in contemplation, before returning to your figure with a mischievous smile. “You certainly know a lot of the ton. Tell me, how do you know so much?”.
Your eyes widened and a small blush crept onto your cheeks as you stuttered, “W-Well, Lady Worthington and her daughters discuss these sorts of matters quite openly-“
“Wait, Lady Worthington?” he asked, his eyes suddenly wide with what you could only assume was fear. You eyed the Viscount suspiciously, tilting your head to the side as you spoke. “Yes?...What of them?”
“Oh no, nothing. It has only now just dawned on me that you are the same Y/n that Colin mentioned when he returned from the Worthington household after calling on Miss Elizabeth, and the same Y/n that Eloise calls a friend. I feel rather stupid for not realising it until now.”
A smile formed on your lips as you dismissed his revelation, “Well, I’m not the most memorable person around, I am merely a maid-“
“A maid who has the ear of my sister…and now mine I suppose.”
Your heart skipped a beat at his words, your cheeks once again flushing a bright red as you turned to face him. “You’re…you’re not ashamed to be speaking so openly with me?” you asked him softly, your eyes wide with shock as you waited anxiously for his reply.
The Viscount shook his head, lightly lifting his shoulders as he hummed. “Should I be? Anyone who works for Lady Worthington has my sympathies.”
Perhaps he would be ashamed, if he knew who you really were.
You were left speechless, unsure of how to reply to his words as your mouth fell open and closed. Before you could think of a reply, the store door burst open to reveal Eloise, who now looked incredibly pale and distraught. Both you and the Viscount shared a look of confusion.
“Are you alright Eloise?” You asked cautiously. She looked between you and her brother, breathing deeply in a panic.
“My dear brother, if you wish to keep your marriage prospects hidden until the ball tonight…I suggest we run” Eloise replied breathlessly, rushing over to her brother and taking his arm in hers.
“What are you talking about-“
“Oh for the love of god, Lady Worthington and her daughters are inside! We should run, now!”
Your eyes met Eloise’s, and then those of her brother who were just as wide, perhaps even more terrified. Without thinking, your shoved both Eloise and the Viscount down the street, laughing as you did so. “Go! Don’t become trapped as I have!”
The Viscount’s laughter caused your heart to soar, as he waved a quick goodbye while Eloise dragged him away and around the corner, right on time as Lady Worthington, Mary and Elizabeth stormed out of the store in a huff. You returned to stand by the horses, trying desperately to contain your laughter as the three of them stumbled towards the carriage, boxes in hand, and struggling to squeeze into the already overstuffed carriage.
“I suppose you found everything you were after, my lady?” You replied quickly, pressing your lips together to stop yourself from chuckling, “should we perhaps return home?”
Lady Worthington’s icy gaze settled on your form, causing a shiver to run down your spine. “Did I tell you to speak? I think not. Just go, we have a lot to do before the ball.”
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#anthony bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton#anthony bridgerton imagine#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton#bridgerton imagine#jonathan bailey
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★ THOUGHT OF CALLIN' YA, BUT YOU WON'T PICK UP / 'NOTHER FORTNIGHT LOST IN AMERICA / MOVE TO FLORIDA IOWA, BUY THE CAR YOU WANT / BUT IT WON'T START UP 'TIL YOU TOUCH, TOUCH, TOUCH ME ─── PB⁵ (part 2/2)
❪ requested -> paige and ex gf!reader that plays on iowa where theres a lot of tension on the court bc they ended on rough terms but u can see that they still care abt each other yet have to prioritize the game // hii could u write for paige x ex gf iowa!reader where they play against each other in the final four and everyone can tell theres sm tension on the court between them bc they ended on rough terms ? they still care abt each other a lot but r forced to put those feelings aside for the sake of the game (but they def had a talk afterwards) - u can make it so that iowa still won or uconn won i think either one would be interesting ! tysm ❫ part one!!!!!!!!!!!!
─ warnings | dramatic as FUCK, resolution type shit, iowa v. uconn but like i changed a bunch of stuff so it's not "canon" to real life LMAO. uhhh angst?? idk?? HAPPY ENDINGGG!!!!!!!
─ ev's notes | i just picked LA sparks cause thats the team i want paige to go to but uh it might not be realistic, also this will make sense when u finish ;)
⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!
APRIL 1, 2024
THE AIR WAS ELECTRIC in the arena as the final buzzer sounded, sealing UConn’s victory over USC in the 2024 NCAA Finals.
Confetti rained down, and the deafening roar of the crowd filled the space as the Huskies celebrated their hard-fought win. Paige Bueckers, at the center of it all, was surrounded by her teammates, hugging and shouting in excitement.
Hours later, the team was at an afterparty, the celebratory atmosphere continuing. Music blared, and laughter filled the room as the players enjoyed their victory. Paige, drink in hand, was beaming, her joy evident to everyone around her. She had worked so hard for this moment, and it was everything she had hoped for. She overcame her ACL injury and everyone who had doubted her, she'd ─ no, they'd ─ made it to the Final Four.
As Paige moved through the crowd, accepting congratulations and sharing in the excitement, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, glancing at the screen. It was a news alert about the NCAA tournament brackets.
"Iowa knocked out LSU," Paige read aloud, her brow furrowing. The notification showed that Iowa had defeated LSU in a close game, securing their spot in the next round. This meant that UConn would be playing against Iowa next, and therefore against Y/N L/N.
The realization hit Paige like a ton of bricks. She stood still for a moment, the noise and celebration around her fading into the background. She was going to have to play against you.
The same Y/N who had been such a significant part of her life (arguably was the most important part), who she had argued with and ultimately lost, who had moved on and found success elsewhere.
A mix of emotions surged through Paige — anxiety, determination, and a hint of sadness. She hadn't seen you played alongside you since your explosive breakup and your transfer to Iowa. Now, they were going to face each other on one of the biggest stages in their collegiate careers.
Nika noticed Paige's sudden change in demeanor and walked over. "Hey, what's up? You look like you've seen a ghost, we won the game, remember?" she tried to lighten the mood as she smiled.
Paige forced a smile, shaking her head slightly. "Nah, it's just... LSU lost to Iowa. We're going to have to play them next."
Nika raised an eyebrow, understanding dawning in her eyes. "Oh. Y/N."
"Yeah," Paige replied, taking a sip of her drink to steady herself. "Y/N."
Aaliyah joined them, catching the tail end of the conversation. "What about Y/N?"
Paige sighed, glancing between her friends. "We're going to play against her in the next round. Iowa knocked LSU out."
Aaliyah gave a sympathetic nod. "Oh shit. That's... that's going to be intense."
"Tell me about it," Paige muttered. She took a deep breath, trying to push aside the personal turmoil and focus on the challenge ahead. "But we have to be ready. This isn't just about me and Y/N. It's about the team. We have to win."
Nika clapped Paige on the shoulder, offering a reassuring smile. "Exactly. And we will. You've got this, P. We'll face whatever comes our way together."
It left a bitter taste in their mouth, Y/N ─ their (besides Paige, obviously) good friend and old teammate ─ now, they had to knock her out or vice versa.
Aaliyah, sensing Paige's inner turmoil, leaned in closer. "Paige, you've always been one of the strongest people we know. You can handle this. And who knows, maybe facing Y/N will bring some closure."
Paige nodded, appreciating Nika's words. "Yeah, maybe. It just feels... complicated."
Nika chimed in, her tone supportive yet firm. "It is complicated, but remember why we're here. We've worked too hard to let anything distract us now. We owe it to ourselves and to our fans to give it our all."
Paige took a deep breath, steeling herself. "You're right. This is about the team and our goal. We need to stay focused."
Aubrey, who had been quiet, suddenly spoke up. "Y/N is a great player, but so are we. We’ve got each other's backs, and that’s what matters. We’re Huskies, and we fight together."
The next day, practice was intense. The team worked tirelessly, their focus razor-sharp. Coach Geno was relentless, pushing them to their limits. Paige appreciated the rigorous drills, as they helped distract her from her thoughts about Y/N.
──
"Didn't you like, date Paige?" Gabbie spoke up as she glanced toward you, a curious expression on her face. "Like, Paige Bueckers at UConn?"
Everyone was in your hotel room, trying to recover from the afterparty last night. LSU was a hard fought win and everyone was really feeling the win, especially after the controversy from last year so obviously that meant drinks with the team.
Gabbie and Jada were on your bed, Kate had her head on your shoulder as Caitlin struggled to keep her eyes open, despite her laying upright in the chair.
Kate's head perked up at the name, looking up to gauge your expression. It'd been a while since someone (other than reporters) asked you about her, your heart skipping a beat at the mention. The only people who really knew what really happened were Caitlin and Kate, you didn't want to open up about it to anyone else.
Caitlin's eyes opened as she gave you a look. She wanted to speak up before you answered, giving her a nod.
"Yeah, uh a while back." You answered with a nervous smile, feeling the weight of everyone's attention. The room, filled with the soft sounds of recovery and idle conversation, seemed to focus in on you for a moment.
Gabbie raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Wow, that's wild. Must be kind of crazy having to play against your ex in such a big game."
Kate shifted slightly, giving you a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder. Caitlin, still half-asleep, managed a supportive smile. You appreciated their silent encouragement.
"Yeah, it can be," you admitted, trying to keep your voice steady. "But at the end of the day, it's about the game and the team. We’re all here to win."
Jada, who had been quietly listening, chimed in. "That’s a good mindset. It’s gotta be tough, but you’re been handling it really well. Better than me,"
"Thanks," you replied, feeling a bit more at ease. "I just try to focus on what I can control. And right now, that's playing my best for the team."
Caitlin's eyes fully opened now, her gaze steady on you. "And you've been killing it. We wouldn't be here without you."
"Same goes for you, Cait," you responded, grateful for her unwavering support. "We’re all in this together."
Gabbie still seemed curious but nodded, respecting the boundaries you had set. "Well, for what it's worth, I think it's pretty badass. Turning something tough into motivation like that."
"Yeah," Kate added, her voice gentle. "And besides, we’ve got your back no matter what."
The room fell back into a comfortable rhythm, the conversation shifting to lighter topics. You felt a wave of relief, glad that the subject had been handled with sensitivity by your teammates. It reminded you of why you loved this team so much ─ their understanding, their support, and their ability to focus on what truly mattered.
As the evening wore on, you found yourself thinking about the upcoming game against UConn. It was inevitable that facing Paige would stir up old emotions, but you knew you were ready. Your time with Iowa had been transformative, helping you grow not just as a player, but as a person.
You had a team that believed in you, and you believed in them. That was enough to face any challenge, even one as personal as this.
The next day at practice, the atmosphere was intense but focused. The coaches ran through plays, strategies, and drills, emphasizing teamwork and communication. You felt a renewed sense of determination, ready to give it your all.
After practice, Caitlin and Kate approached you, their expressions serious yet supportive. "You good?" Caitlin asked, her concern evident.
"Yeah," you said, nodding. "I'm ready."
Kate smiled, her eyes reflecting pride. "We’re gonna crush it. Together."
You smiled back, feeling the warmth of their support. "Yeah, we are."
──
APRIL 5, 2024
"And here we are folks, the most anticipated of the season! The NCAA Women's Basketball Championship Final Four is about to tip off, featuring the Iowa Hawkeyes against the UConn Huskies!" The commentator's voice boomed through the packed arena, the excitement palpable among the sea of fans.
The camera panned over the teams warming up on the court. The Iowa Hawkeyes, led by their star player Caitlin Clark and Y/N L/N, looked focused and determined. On the other side, the UConn Huskies, with their legendary coach Geno Auriemma and standout players like Paige Bueckers and Nika Muhl, were equally intense.
"Tonight's matchup is not just a clash of two powerhouse teams, but a story of redemption and rivalry." The commentator continued. "Y/N L/N, former UConn star, now shining with Iowa, will face off against her old team. This game has all the makings of an instant classic."
Kate stood behind you, giving your shoulders squeeze as you let out a surprised yelp. "Ow!"
Kate smiled as she put her arm around you. "You nervous?"
You laughed, shaking off the nerves. "A little bit. It's a big game."
Kate squeezed your shoulder again, this time more gently. "You've got this, Y/N. We've all got your back. Just play your game."
You nodded, taking a deep breath. "Thanks, Kate. That means a lot."
As the team huddled up for a final pep talk, Caitlin took the lead. "This is our moment. We've worked hard to get here, and now it's time to finish what we started. Play for each other, leave everything on the court, and let's bring that trophy home!"
The team roared in agreement, the energy palpable as you broke the huddle and took your positions on the court. You were guarding Paige, that was the ultimate goal for you ─ make sure she does not score.
As you walked to the court, your gazes met and your heart sank. She looked determined, her eyes sharp and focused, a mirror of your own intensity. Her blue eyes carried years of memories, both beautiful and painful. There was a time when those eyes looked at you with nothing but love. Now, they were filled with a competitive fire, and something else ─ something you couldn’t quite place.
But you also knew that you were ready. You had trained for this, prepared for this, and you were not going to let her outshine you. She looked you up and down, but she kept her lips shut as you took your position.
Paige moved quickly, weaving through your teammates with a grace that was almost mesmerizing. But you were right there with her, matching her stride for stride. Every pivot, every fake ─ you were there, anticipating her moves as if you were still in sync, like you had been during the best of times.
The whistle blew, and the game began. The crowd's cheers became a distant roar as you zeroed in on Paige. Paige moved quickly, weaving through your teammates with a grace that was almost mesmerizing. She tried to shake you off with a quick pivot, but you anticipated her move and stayed in front of her, blocking her path to the basket.
You were right there with her, matching her stride for stride. Every pivot, every fake ─ you were there, anticipating her moves as if you were still in sync, like you had been during the best of times.
Right from the start, the intensity was through the roof. UConn came out strong, with Paige leading the charge. She was as formidable as ever, hitting shots from all over the court and orchestrating the offense with precision. But Iowa matched their intensity, with Caitlin and you leading the charge.
"Clark drives to the basket... passes to L/N... she shoots... and it's good! Y/N L/N ties the game at 20!" the commentator exclaimed.
As the game progressed, the physical exertion mirrored the emotional toll. Each bump, each shove, was a reminder of the walls that had gone up between you two. You could hear the crowd, the commentators, your coach shouting instructions, but it all faded into the background.
All you could focus on was Paige, everything about her almost felt like a ghost of someone who you'd known intimately but had somehow become a stranger. The familiarity of her movements, the way she dribbled the ball, the sheer determination in her eyes ─ it all brought back memories that you had tried so hard to bury.
As the game progressed, those memories kept flooding back. Late-night talks after practice, shared laughter over inside jokes, the way her hand used to fit perfectly in yours. Each interaction on the court was laden with unspoken words, with the weight of what once was and what could never be again.
In a particularly intense moment, Paige drove to the basket, and you fouled her hard, sending her sprawling to the floor. Time seemed to slow as you reached out a hand to help her up, your eyes locking onto hers. The crowd's noise dimmed, and for a brief second, it felt like it was just the two of you.
"I'm fine," she said, brushing off your hand and getting up on her own. But her voice was softer, lacking the sharp edge it had carried since the breakup.
"Sorry," you muttered, more for everything unspoken between you than for the foul itself.
She gave a curt nod, her expression unreadable as she walked to the free-throw line. You could see the conflict in her eyes, the same one that mirrored your own. Despite the competitive fire, there was an undeniable connection that neither of you could ignore, could ever ignore.
Midway through the first half, there was a brief pause in play. Paige looked over at you, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. "You're really making this tough," she said, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips.
"Just doing my job," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. Inside, you were a whirlwind of emotions.
The first half ended with both teams neck and neck. In the locker room, Coach Blunder gave a rousing speech, but your mind was elsewhere. You couldn’t stop thinking about Paige ─ the good times, the bad, and everything in between. The harsh words exchanged during the breakup, the regret that followed, and the lingering hurt that neither of you had ever fully addressed.
Each glance, each brush of your arms, felt like an electric shock. It was more than just a battle for victory; it was a confrontation of your shared past and the emotions you had both tried to suppress.
Back on the court, the tension was palpable. "Paige on the drive... she dishes it out to the wing, but L/N intercepts! What a defensive play!" The commentator’s voice boomed, but you barely registered it, too focused on the person right in front of you.
In a brief moment when the ball was out of play, Paige walked up beside you. "You're playing good, L/N," she said, breathless but sincere. It was the first civil thing she had said to you in months.
"Thanks," you replied, your heart aching. "You too."
The final minutes of the game were a blur. With the score tied and the clock winding down, Paige had the ball. She drove towards the basket, and you were right there with her. She went up for a shot, and you blocked it, the ball flying out of bounds. The whistle blew, and UConn called a timeout.
As both teams huddled up, coach emphasized the importance of the next play. "This is it. One more stop, and we win this."
When the game resumed, UConn inbounded the ball to Paige. She glanced at you, her expression a mix of determination and something else ─ something softer. She made a move towards the basket, but you stayed with her, your eyes never leaving hers. She pulled up for a jumper, and you leapt, your hand just grazing the ball enough to alter its trajectory.
"Caitlin grabs the rebound... she sprints down the court... passes to L/N... Y/N for the win... and it's in! Iowa takes the lead with seconds to spare!"
The buzzer sounded, and the gym erupted in cheers. Your teammates rushed to embrace you, lifting you high as the reality of your victory set in. You had done it. You had faced off against one of the best ─ and your ex ─ and emerged victorious.
You felt the tears of happiness trail down your face uncontrollably as you shouted, "We did it! We actually did it!" Your voice was almost drowned out by the roar of the crowd and the jubilation of your team.
As you were carried around in celebration, your eyes searched for Paige. Despite the euphoria of the win, there was a part of you that needed to see her, to understand her reaction. You spotted her near the sidelines, her expression a mixture of disappointment and quiet acceptance.
Gently, you extricated yourself from your teammates' embrace and made your way over to her. The noise of the gym seemed to fade into the background as you approached. Paige looked up, meeting your gaze with those familiar blue eyes that had once been your world, except now they were teary eyed.
"Uh, congrats, Y/N." She sniffled, her voice steady but soft. There was a depth of emotion in her eyes, a mix of pride and sadness that tugged at your heart.
"Thanks, Paige," you replied, your voice catching slightly. "You played an amazing game. You always do."
She nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "You too. You deserved this win."
There was a moment of silence, a charged pause where the weight of your shared history hung between you. Finally, you broke the silence.
"I'm sorry," you whispered suddenly, your stomach twisting in gulit.
Paige scoffed, shaking her head. "For what? Playing your best? Don't apologize-"
"No. For having to be the one to take you guys out. I mean... you guys are my family," you felt your own tears build up in your eyes. "Were my family," you corrected quickly.
Paige's expression softened, her teary eyes locking onto yours. "We are a family, that doesn't just go away. But you have your own path to follow, Y/N. And it's okay. We all knew this day might come."
You felt a lump in your throat, struggling to find the right words. "I just... I never wanted it to end like this, with us on opposite sides."
Paige reached out, her hand finding yours and squeezing it gently and it felt like how it did, two years ago. "Life doesn't always go the way we want, but that doesn't mean what we had wasn't real or important. We grew together, and now we're growing apart. It's part of the journey."
You nodded, swallowing hard. "I just hope we can find our way back to being friends, someday."
Paige's smile was bittersweet. "Maybe. But even if we don't, know that I still care about you, and I always will. I never... I never meant what I said, I swear. I'm not angry anymore, I'm just proud."
The tears spilled over, but you managed to smile through them. "Thank you, Paige. That means more than you know."
Before you could even process it, Paige pulled you into a tight hug. She buried her face in your neck as you felt your tears flow freely, her breaths coming in hiccups. You hugged her back just as tightly, feeling the familiar warmth and comfort you had once known so well.
Her lips found your temple, pressing a kiss on to it. You squeezed her tighter, but it was a cathartic release, a letting go of all the hurt and tension that had built up over the past years.
After what felt like an eternity, Paige pulled back slightly, her eyes red and puffy but filled with a kind of peace. Before she could say it, you felt someone's hands on your back. You met the eyes of Nika, pulling her into a hug.
And soon, the seniors of your old team surrounded you, taking their own turn in hugging you and congratulating you. It was bittersweet moment, reunion tinged with the pain of separation but also the joy of shared memories and accomplishments. Each hug brought a new rush of memories, a reminder of the bond you had shared with these incredible women.
"Well, what a remarkable sight we're witnessing right now," the lead commentator said, his voice tinged with emotion. "It's not just about the victory for Iowa or the hard-fought battle for UConn. This is a moment of true sportsmanship and personal connection. You can see the genuine respect and love these players have for each other, transcending the rivalry and the outcome of the game."
His co-commentator nodded in agreement. "Absolutely. It's moments like these that remind us why we love sports. It's not just about the competition, it's about the camaraderie and the human stories behind the game. These athletes have given everything on the court, but off the court, they are still friends, still a family in many ways."
The camera panned across the court, capturing the emotional reunions and heartfelt embraces. It zoomed in on you and Paige, still holding hands and exchanging a few final words. The commentators fell silent for a moment, letting the images speak for themselves.
As you walked away, you felt a sense of closure. It wasn't the perfect resolution, but it was a step in the right direction. You turned back to your teammates, who had been watching the exchange with quiet understanding.
Kate came up to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "How are you feeling?" she asked gently.
You took a deep breath, feeling a sense of calm settle over you. "Better. Lighter, somehow."
Kate smiled and squeezed your shoulder. "Good. Now let's go celebrate!"
You laughed, the sound light and free. "Yeah, let's do that."
As you joined your teammates in the celebration, the noise and excitement of the gym washed over you. For the first time in a long while, you felt truly at peace. The future was still uncertain, but you knew you had the strength and support to face whatever came next. And that was enough.
──
"I just hope we can find our way back to being friends, someday."
"Maybe. But even if we don't, know that I still care about you, and I always will. I never... I never meant what I said, I swear. I'm not angry anymore, I'm just proud."
ESPN, APRIL 2025 Reunited Once Again | Paige Bueckers and Y/N L/N Embrace as Teammates Once Again with the LA Sparks
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