Burning Coles
(Part Eleven)
Aemond x Targaryen/Cole!Reader
Obsessive!Jace x Targaryen/Cole!Reader
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TW: Inc*st, ANGST, pining, language, toxic family stuff, Reader is cracking that Virgo energy, a bit slow in this one…
“I had read Aemond the Kinslayer to be obsessed with her. A vicious madman made only more bloodthirsty from his want of her”, said the Lionness.
“Our texts do not disagree”, the Viper smiled “Though we do not frown upon it as you do”.
The day after losing his eye, and you, Aemond woke up to a new world. A new life.
Young Prince Aemond would need to relearn many things. Such as going down stairs, pouring his own drinks, or judging the distance of a person or object. The maesters warned his mother that some skills may never come back to him.
And he may never learn to ride Vhagar.
“Without your other eye, Prince, you may have too great a difficulty to control it”, the Maester had said.
Aemond had sat in his bed. Completely silent. Completely still.
Then he just started screaming. Crying despite the way it burned his left eye to do so. His hands grabbed at whatever was available to throw, and launched it at all the maesters in his room. It took him an hour to stop lashing out at them. To stop screaming at them that they were wrong. He was meant to be Vhagar’s rider. He meant to be your defender.
How could he do that with one eye?
Aemond had calmed enough for visitors. Although he was now refusing to look at or respond to anyone. Despondent.
It broke the Queen Mother’s heart. She had tried everything to bring him out of it. To no avail. King Viserys only repeated his disappointment in him. And Lord Hightower crowed how proud he was, for taking such a great risk. But it all felt so hollow. Alicent turned to one of the few men her son seemed to respect, Ser Criston Cole.
“My Prince?”
He refused to look at him fully, but the Prince did lift his head.
“Ser Cole”
The kingsguard fought a small smile at the boy’s tone. He sounded older than his years. A boy with gauze and stitches on his face that sat in a bed that still bore the childish patterns of dragons and knights. The scar on his face, however, clashed violently with his childlike bed.
“I came to check on your healing. Are you recovering without pain, Prince?”, said Ser Cole.
Aemond snorted “If you listen to Maester Mugbrute, I am not expected to recover at all. No riding, no fighting, just a lump with a title”.
An intense sort of wrath from a young man. Ser Criston Cole looked around the room, it was still littered with thrown objects. Pillows, medicine bottles, rolls of gauze, and a broken teapot. They rolled lightly as the ship rocked in the ocean. King’s Landing was still a day or so out. The maesters should be grateful his aim was impacted.
“My Prince, losing an eye does not mean you have lost your life. I have known many capable fighters that were without an eye”, Ser Cole took a chance and came closer to the boy.
Aemond straightened his posture and turned, his puffy scar healing but cracking painfully “The maesters… they said..”.
“It will not be easy, but if it is your want, I can still train you. We will need to start from the beginning, and progress will be slow. Are you prepared to do that?”, Ser Cole put a hand to the Princeling’s shoulder.
One eye of pale lilac met two of deep brown.
“Yes, Ser Cole. I am”
The kingsguard had not lied when he said progress would be slow. Aemond had to first relearn how to ride and control a horse before he was even allowed to see Vhagar. Ser Cole had gotten quite the earful from the Queen about allowing him to do that.
“If the Prince can defeat me in a joust, he can ride a dragon”, Ser Cole had said.
Queen Alicent truly thought it would be impossible. Until three years later when she watched her son do just that in a tourney. Nearly caused her a heart attack. To see her young son out there. Aemond did not win the tourney, but he defeated four men, including Ser Cole, in jousting. He lost to Ser Cole in combat. Something that angered him greatly as he heard people in the stands laugh when he fell. His stance on not caring for tourneys was cemented by that.
Though any embarrassment was overshadowed by his mother finally walking with him to Vhagar. The bond was still strong, as he often visited her just to sit and read. And now, with his mother’s blessing and his siblings watching, he climbed onto Vhagar’s back.
“Sōvegon!”
Back in the air. With victories and losses under his belt. Prince Aemond swore that day that he would not be a man to be looked down upon. He may never become King, but he would become a man worthy of you.
And that would be enough.
————————————————————————
The Lady Viper said “I think your version of the tale wrongs the Princess most of all”.
“How so?”, the Lioness asked.
“The way things between she and her half-brother began”.
Deep down, you knew that the relationship you shared with Jacaerys transcended that of a sibling bond.
At times, you ignored the way he looked at you. All because the way he held you felt too nice. You knew it was a stupid, selfish thing. You just… there was something about being held by a man. You never felt safe being alone. Like something was missing. Being alone and without touch was like laying awake wondering if the lock on the door had been set. Or if the sound of something falling had been a book or a foot.
You were not certain why you longed for touch so desperately. It embarrassed you. And now it had you here, with Jace’s warm palms grasping your hips.
“If we are quiet, they shall have to go away”, he whispered into your ear.
Jace tipped your chin up to him. He was doing it again. Looking less like your brother and more like a man who you snuck into your room.
“Please”, he touched his forehead to yours.
He had never pushed you like this before. Only once did the two of you kiss with lips touching lips. It was normally lips to your cheek, shoulder, or back. Always framed by that silly game that would start so innocently. Or in the middle of him ruffling your hair, or teasing you in some way. Oftentimes with you not taking anything very seriously either.
And then came the night. The night that caused you to stop playing such games with him. That night where he did push you. That night where he laced his fingers with yours and kissed you deeply. You had been both acting immature. Wrestling, actually. One of you had called the other a name, a pillow was thrown. Then hands fell on limbs. You were both far too old for such roughhousing. Jace was on top of you and suddenly he stopped laughing. No force. No rush. He laid himself onto you slowly and gently.
The way he looked down at you, the light of your fireplace casting a strange glow to his face. It was one of those times where you were reminded of how little the two of you resembled one another. If a stranger had walked in on you two like that, they would have assumed you were two young lovers.
His mouth came down to yours. Warm. Soft. Deep. You shut your eyes, and his kiss was returned. And then, it suddenly felt wrong.
You stopped him. It had frightened you a bit. The way you had wanted to keep going.
And it frightened you now too. You needed to stop this. You were his elder. He followed you, in almost all things. This state he was in, it felt like you had made this in him.
All of this was your fault.
The knocking came again, harder this time. You pulled Jace’s hands from you and turned. He blinked at you, all the confidence washing away before your eyes.
“When I open this door, you are to go to the washroom until I tell you to come out, then to your room. Tonight will not be discussed further, nor will Daemon’s perverted games he has you play”, you put on your best glare.
His face flushed “Wait, please, I did not meant to… I only wanted to—-“
“I do not ask for your reasoning. We are children no longer, our choices bear weight. You or I may be named heir and you may be betrothed. This”, you pointed between yourself and he “Must stop. I am sorry for having participated”.
It was for the best. To reject him. Now.
Jace had always been such an idealist. He looked at the heroes of your family’s history and hoped to one day join them in the texts. A noble and strong Targaryen man.
So devoted to the family. And to you. Whatever he had wanted to do tonight, you would not let him. It would ruin your mother’s plans and it could hurt Baela. He may also bring on the ire of Daemon. As the Rogue Prince would likely not enjoy knowing how little Jace thought of his potential betrothal. Even if it had been Daemon that gave him advice on tempting you. Jace just didn’t seem to realize what this could do to you either.
Or did he?
He stormed into your washroom and paused only so he could close the door without slamming it. That little show of attitude had you feeling more than a little irritated. Jace just did not understand. You were not on Dragonstone anymore. People who saw him be affectionate with you, especially alone, could ruin you. And now was the worst of times for controversies.
You may like to wear flowers on your head, but there was more to you than that. Princess Rhaenyra made sure to educate you in all things political. She just had no way of knowing how you and Jace would grow.
You took a deep breath. It was not something you wanted to give thought to right now.
With some hesitation, you opened the door. It was the last person you wanted to see.
“Aemond?”
And guests, it seemed.
“Ser Westerling, Ser Cole… is something the matter?”
The three of them stood just beyond your door. Aemond had his eye focused on you, piercing through you.
“Are you alright, Princess? I thought I had seen someone following you as you came to your chambers”, his voice oozed with concern.
It almost had you. Until you caught the way his eye snuck a glance into your room. Looking for someone.
You batted your eyelashes “Following me? No, not at all”
Ser Cole shifted uncomfortably “It took you some time to answer the door, Princess. Are you well?”
Having Ser Cole address you directly was intimidating. You could still see the look on his face as he charged through the crowd towards you. His eyes wide, armor gleaming from the light of the torches.
He was older now, though he had only gained deepened wrinkles. Not much grey or signs of decline. Although, that was not what kept her staring for longer than desired.
Ser Cole, he looked… concerned. And not in the way Ser Westerling did. It was a concern that you could connect to your own mother’s face. It wasn’t supposed to be there. That look. His face.
“I am merely tired from the long trip. It has made me a bit of a sloth, I apologize”, you smiled with sweetness.
The elder kingsguard nodded “So, all is well? You are certain?”
What in the Seven Hells had Aemond said to these men? They were crowding her as if they thought… oh. Oh Gods.
“I am only concerned that you may have an unwanted set of eyes on you. A woman alone in a dark corridor”, Aemond said a bit louder than needed.
He absolutely knew who was in your room. What manner of trap was this?
“Ah!”, you clapped your hands once and beamed “You must mean my brother!”.
All three men jerked their heads back, for different reasons.
“He was escorting me to my room, then needed to use my washroom”, you took a step to the side “Jace? Are you well?”
He had the door cracked, just enough to hear.
On cue, Jace came out looking sheepish “Must you announce me? Oh, Ser Westerling! Ser Cole!…. Uncle. Has something happened?”
As he crossed the room, you stepped around him “Nothing at all, brother. Aemond was worried you were a prowler!”
By your body language, you communicated that Jace was to leave. He cast you a quick look, hurt, the recovered with a winning grin to the three men. Jace focused on Aemond, and gave his shoulder a stiff shake “Good to know our Uncle is still so protective”.
Aemond stared into his face, a cold look in his eye. The mutt had touched him. And even brushed by him. The fucking gall. He relaxed only from his belief that Jace had not intended to stay with you long. Otherwise…
Your hand took Aemond’s “Thank you for looking after me”.
Just like that, Aemond’s attention was back on you. And your brother slipped away with his shoulders hunched. The one-eyed Prince’s gaze softened “I cannot help but do so”.
The touch of your hand to his was something he had missed greatly. And you found yourself tempted to thread your fingers with his. You pulled away and laughed gently. The faintest touch of color came to his cheeks.
Ser Cole exhaled slightly too loud. The Prince’s swooning was a bit much for the man to bear.
“Hm, seems our Princess won’t be in need of a sworn protector later in life. She has a brother and uncle to watch over her! How lucky”, said Ser Westerling.
You could tell by the heaviness in his brow, Ser Westerling detected the tension. And he was trying to lessen it. His mustache and beard were whiter than you remembered. Still, he looked strong. Healthy. And only mildly irritated.
“Again, gentlemen, you have my thanks for checking in on me. Sadly I must retire. The morrow brings much to do, and I would hate for either of you to be tired on my behalf!”, that patented softness of House Targaryen’s Heart.
It brought the tension down further.
Ser Cole continued to stare at you in the way he often did. Like he was trying to make sure you did not suddenly disappear. It made something in you want to stop him as he turned and followed after Prince Aemond and Ser Westerling.
You closed and locked your door. Head teeming with thoughts. Of Jace. Of Aemond. Your mother. Luke’s succession. Lord Vaemond. And now, Ser Cole.
Slowly, you went to your cloak which hung by the door. You reached into the pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. The same one Ser Cole had pressed to your bleeding nose all those years ago. It bore the emblem of his house, which was stained still by your blood despite being washed.
Was this the answer to the question you dared not ask?
Part 1
Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8
Tinder is not a great place to look for boyfriends, but neither is the workplace.
Gavi x Physiotherapist! reader. Slow burn. I can't make things fast he's gotta work for it. Smut? Not in this part but maybe eventually.
A/N: Hi everyone! Not super new on Tumblr but I have never been brave enough to post a fic despite my constant maladaptive daydreaming about imaginary scenarios. The stress of being sick and not wanting to write my personal statement have lead me to actually write this and post it online. Please be nice, hope you enjoy!
Song inspo: Just Pretend - Bad omens
Writing inspo: Plot inspired by @zeegaazeegaah and their amazing Gavi x physiotherapist imagine. Other inspirational accounts will be tagged at the end.
TW: None
Word count: 4.8K
"So what do you do?"
y/n hated this question. Even being asked for nudes might be preferable to being asked about her job. y/n had been on 12 first dates since moving back to Barcelona, and without fail every one of them had been ruined by this simple question. She considered lying - she could pass as a student or a waitress or even a model (ok maybe not a model): there were literally thousands of jobs she could pretend to have. But, being the idiot hopeless romantic that she was, she decided to be honest with the man across from her. What if Thiago from Tinder was her soulmate? She didn't want to ruin it by lying.
"I'm finishing my sports medicine and physiotherapy certification, so I am working with one of the football clubs here to do practical training and gain experience."
"Oh that's cool! Which club? You can tell me, I know most of the 3rd and 4th tier Catalan clubs, so I'll probably know it even if it's really small."
Wow. Thiago from Tinder was an overachiever: he messed up before she even said which club she worked for, which was faster than every other man she had been out with in the last four months. y/n took a deep breath and resisted the urge to leave before confessing where she worked.
"I actually work at a pretty well known club... F.C Barca. I think you might of heard of it?" y/n watched this man's jaw visibly drop. His eyes got wide and lit up, like someone had told him he had just won a brand new car.
"You're a physio at Barca?? No way! That's my team! I think I would actually commit manslaughter if Pedri asked me to. So you get to see all the players every day? And Xavi! Have you ever spoken to Xavi? Do you know he won Spain their first world cup? You might be too young to remember. That's so amazing!"
y/n felt all the muscles in her head tense as she focused all her energy on not rolling her eyes. A fanboy. Typical. This was the most common response she got when she said her place of work out loud. 6 of the last 12 first dates had been major fanboys for the club, talking endlessly about how they would steal and kill and get on their knees for Barca. One had even been so bold as to ask if she had ever seen Lewandosky naked, to confirm if some measurements he had seen online were true. While the fans were annoying, the haters were even worse. 4 different dates had said they felt bad that she worked at a "dying club", throwing up football statistics, and going red in the face when she said she could not possibly care less about who had more Champion's League wins.
Then there were those that went out of their way to offend her. You would think that a man trying to get laid would have some more common sense. But that didn't stop one of her tinder matches from calling her a liar in the middle of a restaurant. He was still on his first glass of wine, leaning back cockily in his chair when he said that La Liga would never allow female physios to work with the first team because women couldn't "handle the intensity of football injuries." She should have gotten up and left when he said that, but he was 6'3 with a brand new Porsche, so she let him buy her dinner and drive her home before telling him that she genuinely hoped he never interacted with a female doctor ever again, even if it was to save his life.
The worst had been when she went out with Jose. He had invited her to a pretty expensive spot in central Barcelona. They were having an amazing conversation until the fated job question. She had downed a good amount of wine at that point, and wasn't as cynical about the reaction as she usually would be, so she spoke about her role with pride. Big mistake. He perked up, then threw his head back and laughed. He laughed so loudly it startled the waiter clearing plates from the nearby table. "21 years old and working as a physio for F.C Barca... Who did you have to sleep with to get that job, hm? Xavi? La Porte himself? Or maybe someone at the university? Regardless, you must fuck like a pornstar to have landed a job like that. Can't wait to try it first hand." y/n said some choice words about Jose and his micropenis, and promptly left, seeking to avoid assault charges that night.
The truth was that y/n was extremely talented at what she did. She grew up watching football with her father and brother, developing an interest in working in sports professionally. She worked herself half to death during high school to be accepted into a sports science program in the U.S. She interned with the college teams there, learning about sports injuries and treating them. She finished her program in three years, and despite programs across Europe fighting for her, she came back to Barcelona to finish her physiotherapy certification. She would be lying if she said it was just for her family and friends. The program in Barcelona advertised opportunities to work with F.C. Barca, her favorite football club since birth. It was a love she inherited from her father, as shown by all her childhood pictures in the Blaugrana uniform.
The program was harder than expected. She was one of 7 female first year students, and the only girl in her year that wanted to work with the first team. y/n was made aware that this might work to her advantage now that professional football was pushing for more female representation (in referees, coaching staff, and now on the medical team). The guys in her class either hated her guts or wanted to sleep with her (sometimes both) - it really was like legally blonde without the law.
In the middle of August, close to the beginning of the new season, all the applicants for the Barca placement were called into the university on a Sunday. Their professor introduced Dr. Gonzales, the head physiotherapist for the club. y/n started to sweat despite the air conditioning hitting her directly. She was terrified to even breathe wrong in the presence of this man.
"It's a pleasure to be here with you all today. Thank you for your hard work in submitting to fill the assistant physiotherapist position at F.C. Barcelona. Now, there have been rumors that we are hiring a student to fil this position because it is cheaper and we are broke, but I would like to assure you all now that it's not true."
The two boys in front of her snickered quietly, one whispering a "yeah right" to the other. Dr. Gonzalez looked up at the boys. "You two giggling in the back. You don't seem like the type we need at Camp Nou. You can leave now." Everyone in the room sat up straighter after that. Everyone was on military behavior, not wanting a wrong look or a chair squeak to blow their chance. "As many of you know, one of our strikers, Ousmane Dembélé, presents with consistent right hamstring tightness, leading to frequent injuries."
As Dr. Gonzalez turned to face the screen, y/n found enough bravery to pull out a pen and paper to take notes. The doctor continued to describe the player's condition, his playing style, and the current course of treatment being used. After speaking for 25 minutes (while facing the screen instead of the students), he turned around and addressed them. "Your project is to develop a continuous muscular therapy treatment for Dembélé in the next two days. The best and most cost effective method gets the job placement. You at the back," he pointed at y/n, "Smart choice to take notes. I advise you not to share."
Y/n drove home that evening checking her rear-view mirror every few seconds. The possibility of being followed by one of her classmates so they could steal her notes was low, but never zero, and so she did both of the locks tightly on the door. She sat at her computer and got to work right away. Truth be told, she felt like the whole assignment was kind of a trick. Dr. Gonzalez had told them the current treatment plan for Dembélé, which had obviously been working seeing as they kept using it. She made a few adjustments based on leg dominance and the anticipated excess strain of playing more minutes each game, and then she decided to facetime her friend Angelika while she made the PowerPoint look pretty.
"Good evening Dr. y/l/n, finally ready to ask for my hand in marriage? My parents always wanted me to marry into medicine." y/n rolled her eyes and smirked. She had met Angelika when she was living in the US through a Facebook group for Spanish students studying abroad. Ever since then, not a day had gone by where they hadn't spoken (except once when Angelika had dropped her phone into a pint of beer and couldn't get it fixed for three days).
"You know I'm ready when you are gorgeous, just send your ring size. What're you up to?"
"Nothing much, just scrolling on the internet trying to find clubs that are no cover for ladies tomorrow. You're still coming out with us right?" y/n looked away from her computer and looked at Angelika with the "I'm about to bail on plans look" that was all too familiar. "Y/n!! You cannot be cancelling plans with us again! You haven't been anywhere except your house and the university in like six weeks! People will start to think you're with child and in hiding."
"I didn't know I was the new virgin Mary." y/n quipped, trying to make her presentation equally professional and cute. "You're not, because that would require you being a virgin. I know it feels like it's growing back because you haven't looked in the direction of a man in centuries." y/n could only shake her head. It was not a lack of trying. "Well, I'm presenting to the Barca head physio Wednesday morning, so if you ever want a chance at seeing the inside of that locker room, you need to let me skip out on tomorrow."
Angelika sighed and threw herself on the bed dramatically. "Fine, but you need to be our DD and come pick us up after. Shockingly, it's really hard to order an Uber while drunk." y/n agreed to pick the girls up from the club at the end of the night, an spent the rest of the evening chatting idlily with her friend, living vicariously through the stories she told.
The following day, y/n spent all morning refining her presentation. She spent over an hour watching videos about the Barca training facility to see if there was any equipment she had overlooked in creating her treatment plan. The day progressed as normal - cleaning, cooking, practicing her presentation, watching TV on the couch. As 1am rolled around, she still hadn't received any communication from Angelika. While she was not an inconsiderate person, Angelika did have her moments where she would completely forget about the world around her: that was when she met a man who showed interest in her. Despite being gorgeous and intelligent, Angelika, like most girls in their early twenties, suffered from a condition known as "Nothing is true about me unless an attractive man says it". y/n also suffered (mildly) from this affliction, but being surrounded by weirdos all day in university had helped substantially. She knew that if she did not leave then, she would never get any sleep, and so she grabbed her car keys and headed to the address of the club that she had been sent earlier on.
She parked several blocks away from the club, and called Angelika for a record 41st time. y/n knew she wasn't going to receive an answer, so she changed into a tight satin top and a pair of heels that she always left in her car in case of emergencies (What if Joao Felix decided to take a random trip to Barcelona and she was unprepared?). She could feel the street practically vibrating beneath her as she walked towards the club. She was let in easily - it was a Tuesday night and the establishment needed female patrons. She kept close to the bar, and asked the girls working there if they had seen her friend. Once y/n pulled up a picture of Angelika, the girls laughed to one another.
"Oh yeah, she's up in the VIP section. They've dropped like 6k on bottle service already."
y/n felt the vein in her forehead start to pop out. Of course Angelika had found herself a man that would take her to the part of the club that was the hardest to get into. Especially on the night when y/n really needed to get home. Because why wouldn't that happen? She made her way over to the VIP section, where she was promptly stopped by two large bouncers, who obviously didn't believe that she just wanted to grab her friend. While standing there deciding whether she should just make Angelika order an Uber (or have this new lover order one for her), she was tapped on the shoulder. She turned around and was met by a very attractive man (boy? His age was hard to determine in the dark).
"Hey, do you need to get into VIP? Are you here alone? " "That's a really creepy question to ask a girl in a club." y/n yelled back over the thumping music. What were all these people doing out on a Tuesday? "No not like that. I can help you get in if you want." "I don't really want to get in, I just want to get my friend and leave." The man (boy?)'s eyes lit up. "Perfect! My tea- friend. My friend that I'm with is pretty drunk and the person that drove us is in VIP. I can't leave him by himself because he's kind of rowdy even when sober. Could you watch him while I go grab them?"
y/n didn't want to look too deeply into a good thing, but the offer felt suspicious. She scanned the boy (she had decided that he was young), looking for any indication that he could live up to his end of the bargain. She looked down at his feet, noticing the white Alexander McQueen sneakers. She decided that she could trust him, and if not, she was still in a public place, and someone would notice if she was being dragged out of a club kicking and screaming. She walked over to where the friend was and had to stifle a laugh. Another boy was sprawled across two high bar chairs, legs up and head rolled back. He was wearing a pair of Louis Vuitton sunglasses despite it being the middle of the night and them being indoors. His white button up had the first two undone and the collar popped, like he was Pitbull in 2011. He was in a pair skinny jeans (because, as y/n discovered quickly, everyone in the world had moved on from skinny jeans except for Spanish men) and some white Dolce and Gabanna sneakers. Where were these kids getting all this money?
"Pablo! Look who I brought you! This is..." The first boy looked back at you expectantly. "y/n". "y/n! She's really great and going to take care of you while I go get Pepi so we can go home." The drunk one (now Identified as Pablo) lifted his head, and tilted the sunglasses just enough to get a good look at the girl. "Wow Angel, nice job." The first one (Angel apparently) apologized to y/n, explaining that Pablo was a "really flirty drunk" but that he was never like this sober. y/n showed Angel a picture of Angelika, and off he went back into the beast that was the club. y/n stood awkwardly by Pablo, who appeared to have fallen asleep. Suddenly, he sprung up and asked her, "so what is a pretty girl like you doing in the club by herself?"
"I'm not here to go clubbing, just picking up a friend." "You're dressed like you're going clubbing." "Right, because they wouldn't let me into the club in my scrubs." "Scrubs? You look too young to be a doctor." The music was starting to take a toll on y/n, the thumping rhythm giving her a splitting headache. "You don't look old enough to be let into the club, but everyone is full of surprises." Pablo did not take this comment well. He stood up, feeling all the blood rush to his head as he rested his weight against the bar. He pushed his glasses up his head, and looked straight at her.
This was the first opportunity y/n had to admire how gorgeous Pablo was. The glasses pushed his hair back on his head, showing off his striking eyebrows and cheekbones. His eyes were wide and glassy, making him look like a teenager who had gotten drunk for the first time. For all y/n knew, that could be the case. His nose slopped downward, a subtle bump in the bridge like it had been broken before and reset. His discontent made his bottom lip poke out, and y/n suddenly was overwhelmed by the urge to treat him like a child: make him feel better with a kiss. "I'm 18, and this isn't even my first time in a club. You want to see my ID?" Pablo had gotten much closer to her than she had expected. In her 4 inch heels, y/n was looking him straight in the eyes. He was mere inches away from her face, cheeks flushed from the alcohol and the anger of being called a child. She couldn't stop her gaze from flipping between his eyes to his pouting lips. 'This is normal,' she thought to herself. 'I'm overwhelmed because no man has been this close to me in a while. Even if my scumbag cheating ex was standing this close I would want to kiss him. I am simply in desperate need of affection.'
This internal monologue ended just as another club patron bumped into Pablo, causing him to lose balance. He put his arms around y/n and rested weight against her, head pressed into her shoulder. "I feel like dying. I shouldn't have drank that much." He muttered. She just held him there, scared that he would hit the floor if she shifted. "Then why did you keep drinking?" She asked. It couldn't hurt - in the state he was in, she would be surprised if he even remembered his name in the morning. "So my brain would be a little quieter." y/n's heart ached at the statement. However old the boy in her arms was, he was being burdened by something far beyond his age.
Before she could ask anything else, she was tapped on the shoulder by Angel, who signaled for her to follow out of the club. She put one of Pablo's arms around her neck and began shuffling through the crowd. Once they left the club, Pablo quickly separated from her to throw up on the side of the street. "At least he waited until he was off of you to do that," a male voice echoed from behind her. y/n turned around to see Angelika clinging to a tall brunet. "Thank you so much for carrying her out. I think I can take it from here." y/n said, trying to get Angelika to remove herself from the nice man. "It's ok, I can walk her to your car. It might be easier than you carrying her." y/n smiled apologetically, and turned around to the sound of Pablo continuing to wretch his guts out. She ran over to make sure he wasn't puking blood and didn't need medical attention. "Come on Pablo let's go." Angel said from the curb. "No no, don't rush him. Let him get it all out before he gets into my car. Otherwise he'll have to start taking the city bus to matches." y/n looked up at the new voice. He walked up and stood by Angel, glancing at his phone before looking up at his friend and the girl making sure he didn't die. "Thanks for looking after him. I hope he wasn't too bad, he's a tag aggressive." y/n stood there speechless. The man thanking her for taking care of his drunk friend was none other than Pedri Gonzalez, one of the young stars of F.C. Barca. He was an absolute magician with the ball, and quickly becoming a favorite in y/n's household. She wanted to let out a scream: jump up and down and tell him that she was a huge fan and ask for a picture. But she had her presentation tomorrow. The last thing she needed was to make a bad impression on the player by causing a scene. So she took a deep breath and insisted that it was no problem.
Pablo had finished puking out his guts by that point and stood up straight, gripping his head from the dizziness. "Alright hermano, time to go." Pedri said, turning his back to y/n, Angelika, and the main carrying her. "Wait." Pablo said rummaging through his pocket. He pulled out his wallet, and clumsily pulled a card from it. He turned to y/n and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her close to him. There were shouts from his friends to stop whatever he was doing, but nothing was registering in his liquor-filled brain. "y/n think's I'm a little kid, so I just wanted to show her my ID." y/n shifted her gaze from his deep eyes to the card in his hand. She didn't look at the age. She didn't have to. Her eyes landed on the name: Pablo Martín Páez Gavira. One of the best young football players in the world had just used her as a banister. "Now that you know I'm not a kid, next time, you should let me buy you a drink." Pablo said, pushing a strand of hair from y/n's face before walking (wobbling) back to his friends.
y/n could not process everything going on in her head at that moment. She turned around and faced the man holding a half-asleep Angelika. "You don't play for Barca do you?" She asked, half joking and half fearful. "No. I play for Real Sociedad. I'm Martin." "Zubimendi??" "Yeah." This was too much. y/n, 7 hours before the most important presentation of her life, was surrounded by so much football royalty it made her dizzy. Martin looked like he was going to say something else, but y/n put her finger to her lips and shushed him. "Please, not another word. Just bring her to the car."
They walked silently to y/n's tiny car, Martin helping to carefully place Angelika in the back seat. "So are you the guy she was with while ignoring my calls?" "Oh no, that was my teammate Ander. He was also kind of out of it so I offered to help her out." "Why is everyone getting drunk out of their minds on a random Tuesday in August?" y/n said in frustration, causing a laugh to erupt from Martin. "It's the last week before training for the new season starts. Not a lot of opportunities to black out after this. People like to take advantage." y/n thanked Martin and got into the driver's seat. He stopped her before she drove off. "Do you think I could maybe get your number? Just to make sure you get home safe?" y/n rolled her eyes at the lame excuse for a pick-up tactic, but surrendered her phone number anyway. She drove back to her apartment with her head reeling, as she tried to rehearse her speech in her head instead of thinking of the events of the night.
The next day, y/n looked perfect. She had work her best school-approved scrubs and coat. and slicked her hair back to make her look more professional. She was in her business attire Nikes. Her note cards were neatly written and organized. She sat in the lecture hall waiting to be called on. The students would be presenting in random order. As all the student filled in to present, the tension was palpable. Everyone side-eyed each other, trying to intimidate the "competition". The door swung open and in walked the professor, as well as Dr. Gonzalez. He stood at the front podium, stern as ever, and began to speak.
"Good morning students. Thank you all for the effort you have put into the presentations you will share today. We look forward to all you assessments and insights. As the new season quickly approaches, we want the new assistant to become acclimated to the workplace quickly. Therefore, the decision about the position will be made today following the presentation." The entire room stopped breathing. "In order to do so efficiently, please welcome our other guests and evaluators, Mr. Xavi Hernandez and Mr. Ousmane Dembélé." The pair walked in, and the room engaged in the most "I wish I was dead" sounding clapping known to man. y/n started sweating profusely. If she had known that Xavi and Dembélé were going to be watching her presentation, she would have made Angelika take the Uber. Hell, she would have made her ride a Donkey back home and gotten a full night's sleep.
Dr. Gonzalez drew names for the order, and because y/n has the worst luck, she was presenting last. She did what she does best: panicked immediately. She tried to think of ways to present the information differently than the 6 students before her had. As she listened to the presentations, the more nervous she got. None of the other students had treatment plans remotely similar to hers. Antonio, one of the smartest in their batch and the presenter right before her, even suggested he get surgery.
It was time. y/n stood up at the front of the room and pulled out her slides. "Good morning everyone. Today I will be presenting my comprehensive treatment plan for player Ousmane Dembélé's right hamstring." She got through the whole thing without stuttering or having her knees give out. As she finished her last slide, she let out a sigh of relief. The hard part was over. She asked if their were questions and Xavi's hand went up. "So Miss y/n, the treatment plan presented is very similar to the one we have currently implemented, with a couple changes in training and every day life. What is the anticipated recovery time for this treatment?" Everyone else in the class had said 8-12 months. But no - of course y/n had to be differently. "6 weeks sir." "6 weeks? No one else has given a suggestion that would take less than half a year." "Yes sir, however, if you take into account the availability of daily therapy, cryotherapy, and the current play style and strain distribution, he can be on the field in 6 weeks. He might not be comfortable playing all 90 minutes each game, but that's not the same as being completely out for injury." Xavi nodded and said nothing more. That was the end of the questioning.
It took them 8 minutes exactly to decide who go the job. Dr. Gonzalez, Xavi, and Dembélé came back into the room, thanking everyone again for their hard work. "We are please to announce," Xavi started, "that we will be offering the assistant physiotherapist position for the 2022/2023 season to," he turned to Dembélé, who finished the thought, "Miss y/n y/l/n." All the men in the room turned to face y/n at once as she struggled to breathe from the shock. "We look forward to having you this season."
And that's how it happened. y/n was now the assistant physiotherapist for the first team at F.C. Barcelona during the day, and entertainment for the absolute worst men in Spain in the evenings. She left her disappointing first date with a headache and leftovers, and drove home listening to her "Maybe Love is a Social Construct" playlist. As she walked into her apartment, her phone chimed with a text notification. She let her hair down and grabbed her phone, preparing to update Angelika about the latest in the tragedy that was her love life. Instead, she had two separate text notifications.
[Unknown number]: Hey, is this still y/n's number?
[Gavi]: I need to see you urgently. Tomorrow morning 6:30 am. I'll be waiting outside your office.
To be continued...
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If you got this far, thanks for reading! I have had this idea for a long time and have been writing snippets of it down. I will continue to update whenever I can, as this really is a passion project for me (so it's ok if no one reads it).
GIF credit to @gavidaily
Huge thanks to the following for heavily inspiring me to start writing this on the internet: @missgavi @kyiiansmbappe @julianalvarez9 @milawritesstuff @leeamorgan (there are a couple others I'm forgetting)
Summary: Bucky is going to confront you for why you have been avoiding him but when he comes home he finds out you have been kidnapped
Warning: Mentions of kidnapping and torture
Part 1 Part 3
Bucky couldn't bear the growing distance between you any longer. He knew he had to talk to you and stop the tension that had been building. The constant absence of your touch, your laughter, and your presence had made him realize just how much he needed you.
One evening, as he mustered up the courage to have the conversation, he decided to surprise you at home. He wanted to show you that whatever he did wrong he deeply regrets it and stop whatever had caused this sudden change in your behavior.
However, when Bucky entered the apartment, he found it eerily quiet. The atmosphere felt heavy, and his heart clenched with a sense of foreboding. He called out your name, but there was no response.
Panic surged through his veins as he quickly searched every room, hoping to find you. It was then that he noticed something off—a broken vase on the floor, shattered glass scattered across the room.
Bucky's hands trembled as he desperately dialed your number, hoping against hope that you would answer. But each ring went unanswered, intensifying his anxiety. Fear gnawed at his heart as he realized something was terribly wrong. Where were you? Why weren't you picking up?
Unable to waste any more time, Bucky quickly dialed Sam's number, his voice filled with urgency. "Sam, it's Y/N. She's in trouble. I can't reach her, and I don't know where she is. I need your help."
Sam's voice conveyed his concern as he responded, "Don't worry, Bucky. I'm on my way. We'll find her together. Just hold on."
Bucky's mind replayed every moment, every conversation, searching for any signs he might have missed. Anything that could show what had happen to you. Bucky's mind raced with worry as they searched for any sign of your whereabouts. Doubt gnawed at his thoughts, questioning every decision he had made leading up to this moment. Did I miss any signs that something was wrong? Should I have noticed your distress sooner?
But as the minutes ticked by, Bucky's conviction grew stronger. Deep down, he knew you would never willingly leave him without a word. Your love had been genuine, your connection real. It didn't make sense that you would simply disappear without a trace. His gut told him that something was terribly wrong.
That is when he saw Sam walk in with a computer in his hand. "Well I asked the landlord for the security cameras and he was happy to give it to Captain America." Sam says laughing trying to lighten the mood as he sits down, but no reaction from Bucky. "Well what did you find?" Bucky says eagerly. "I see that Y/N got captured while heading in, but its a little blurry to see the number plate." Sam says while showing Bucky "But I do know someone who can get it, wait here." Sam walks out to make a phone call.
The guilt intensified, a suffocating presence that threatened to consume him. He blamed himself for not being there, for not protecting you when you needed him the most. His mind raced with a barrage of "what ifs" and self-recrimination.
Sam comes back awhile later to inform Bucky he found where Y/N is held captive and they rush off to find you.
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Y/N's heart raced as she found herself trapped, held captive by Brock. She knew Bucky would come for her, and she held onto that hope tightly. But the more Brock tortured he, she felt as if all that hope was slipping away.
"Poor, poor Y/N I really thought your boyfriend would save you" Brocks says putting a knife near your neck. "I can't believe he would let someone as precious as you thrown away"
"I don't give a fuck what you believe" you say spitting at brock
Brock punches you and you feel blood come out of your moth. "You need to learn to not be a bitch, before we can play". You can see the look Brock gave you and it didn't make you feel good. He starts to walk away and comes back with collar and puts it on you. You try moving your neck but you feel a sudden pain of electrical shocks.
He lifts your chin up "You better hope your boyfriend comes in time, because a few more shocks and your dead" he says with a smile while he walks outs.
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A few hours later you see the door open in but the tears in your eyes make it hard for you to make out the figure. There was so many of Brock's henchman here you couldn't tell which one was Brock or not.
That is when she caught a glimpse of Bucky hiding behind some crates. Bucky gave you a soft smile while he disapeared into the dark.
However, luck seemed to elude him as a creaking floorboard betrayed his presence. The sudden sound alerted Brock's henchmen, who immediately converged on Bucky, trapping him within their grasp. Bucky's heart raced as he found himself outnumbered, but he refused to back down.
As the first henchman lunged at him, Bucky swiftly dodged the attack. He retaliated with a powerful punch, sending his assailant crashing into a nearby wall. But there was no time to savor the victory as the others closed in, their fists flying.
Amidst the chaos, Bucky caught a glimpse of Sam swooping down from above. The familiar wings of his Falcon suit glinted in the darkness.
You saw while Bucky was fighting the henchman, Sam was taking you out of the facility and to the hospital. "You okay there, were almost to the hospital, then I'll go back for buck" Sam says holding you tightly as he brings you to the hospital. But you eyes start to close slowly, you didn't want to hold on for life anymore, you didn't want to be Bucky's burden, you just wanted some peace.
@vicmc624 @cjand10 @marygoddessofmischief @matchat3a @blue-chup @floralwsloki @kentokaze @internet-infuencer @666yourmomdotcom @zzziea @maddieislost @madi-is-kinda-lame @openup-yourmind @almosttoopizza @specialsnowflake-gabbi
Anthony Bridgerton x Kate Sharma x Sharma!sis
Summary: Y/n adapted to the Bridgerton family dynamic. However, she remains a little fearful and shy. Could the arrival of a prince change that?
part 1
Ever since Kate and Anthony assured Y/n that they wanted her to live with them, things had gotten better. The girl felt more comfortable with them, and appreciated the effort the couple made to show that she was always welcome. Riding horses for the three of them was an almost regular activity now, and these afternoons were Y/n's favorite.
Anthony had given her a beautiful black mare, which she insisted on learning to wash and comb, even though there were servants for that purpose. The man then spent the rest of the month teaching her how to ride, and this was something that brought her very close to Anthony, who she now considered like a brother.
The truth was, living with her older sister and her husband was wonderful. There was never a dull moment and she always had someone to talk to. Furthermore, the relationship between her and Kate was the strongest, and they were more inseparable than ever. Y/n's mother had agreed that her daughter would stay at Viscount's house for a while and thus extended her stay in India.
However, even though she was comfortable in that smaller core, she still felt shy around Anthony's siblings. She loved them all, and they always treated her equally, but in the back of her head there was always that thought that she was intruding.
Now, the Bridgerton family plus Y/n were on their way to the park to have a picnic. The season was starting again and suitors from all over the world were arriving to try to find someone. On the way there, Y/n entertained herself by listening to Eloise's grumbling that she would be entering the season again, even if the last thing she wanted was to find a husband.
Bridgerton had made a point of giving Y/n her feminist speech, and despite the eye rolls she received from some of her siblings, Y/n agreed with everything she said. However, she always wanted to be married to a man who truly loved her, and that wasn't going to change.
It was a sunny day, perfect for staying right by the lake and enjoying the delicious food that the maids had prepared. Anthony and Kate were in their own world, whispering to each other with gigantic smiles, Benedict and Collin were appreciating the ladies passing by, and Eloise was reading her book while Violet had met Lady Danbury and the two were chatting animatedly. Daphne and Simon hadn't arrived with their son yet, but Y/n couldn't wait to play with the baby again.
Meanwhile, she, Hyacinth, Gregory and Francesca were walking around the lake, picking up rocks and seeing who could throw them the furthest. Probably not the most etiquette thing they could do, but Violet and Anthony hadn't stopped them yet so they continued.
"I'm starting to get tired." Y/n grumbled, rolling the shoulder of her arm that was starting to feel sore from throwing so many rocks. "I think I'll sit down and get some sun."
"We'll be right there and keep you company then. I just need to beat Gregory first!" Hyacinth promised.
Y/n smiled towards the three, then heading towards the lawn where the others were. She momentarily looked down, seeing that she had gotten a little dirty on her dress when she went up against someone. The force of the impact had been so great that she lost her balance and began to fall backwards. However, this never happened because someone managed to grab her arms and pull her up again.
When she opened her eyes, having closed them in preparation for the fall, she saw a young man, around her age, looking worriedly at her. "Are you alright? My apologies, Miss, I was distracted and didn't see you."
"I'm okay." she said a little breathlessly. Their proximity didn't help either. "I'm the one who apologizes. I should be looking ahead instead of at my dress."
"It is a beautiful dress." he said, taking the opportunity to look her up and down, letting a small smile form on his lips. Y/n's cheeks immediately started to turn pinker. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss…"
"Sharma." Y/n smiled. "I'm sorry, I don't recall who you are."
"Prince Charles, the youngest son of Queen Charlotte and King George." he chuckled when he saw Y/n's wide eyes, who quickly made a small bow. "Please, that's not necessary. On top of that, I was the one who almost made you fall to the ground."
"My apologies, Prince Charles. I returned from India only a few months ago and it seems that I still don't know everything I should know. This mistake will not be repeated."
"It wasn't anything serious. To be honest, I'm actually glad you didn't immediately know who I was. I went against you because I was running away from an Earl's daughters who were begging me to marry them." A silence fell over them. "Who are you here with?"
"My sister and her husband's family. Viscount Anthony Bridgerton and Viscountess Kate Bridgerton." Y/n looked over his shoulder, seeing Anthony staring in her direction, more specifically at the Prince. He was about to get up when Kate pulled him down again, sending Y/n a smile and a wink. "They're looking at us right now."
"Of course, I know who they are. My mother loved the love story between them. Since then, she has only told my older siblings that she wants them to have something like that too. But they are not very interested in getting married, much to the Queen's disappointment."
Y/n just let out a small chuckle in response, not really knowing what to say. The proximity to the prince was becoming increasingly intimidating, and it didn't help that the entire Bridgerton family had noticed that interaction and were now observing discreetly.
"I apologize, Prince Charles, but I must return to my sister's family. We came to take advantage of this beautiful day to have a picnic."
"Of course, Miss Sharma. I hope to see you again soon." he nodded with his hands clasped behind his back. With a smile, he went back on his way while Y/n walked over to where Kate and Anthony were, her cheeks painted a light pink.
"What were you talking about?" Anthony questioned without being able to control himself any longer, his half-closed eyes still focused on the back of the boy walking in the distance.
Kate rolled her eyes at Anthony's exaggerated protectiveness, but the truth is that her heart started to beat faster when she saw how Anthony had so much care and affection for Y/n. It made her imagine how protective he would be of their daughters.
"Don't pay attention to Anthony, Y/n. The prince seemed very interested in talking to you. You should have gone for a walk together."
"Sister!" the younger girl exclaimed with wide eyes, becoming even more embarrassed. "He was just apologizing for going against me."
"That boy, prince or not, should look where he is going! Irresponsible, that's what he is!" Anthony continued to mumble, ignoring the look his wife sent him.
"Well, I am delighted that you made a new friend, Y/n. Now come sit with us for a while and drink some water, it's very hot."
"You're getting worse than mother." Y/n rolled her eyes in amusement. She added with a wink, "I guess it's a good training for the future."
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"I do not want to go." Y/n stated, crossing her arms defiantly.
"Sister, we've already had this conversation." Kate repeated for the thousandth time, but still with the same patience as the first time. The older woman sighed, looking understandingly at her sister who was looking at the floor with a pout. "What are you really afraid of? It's your first ball, it's normal for you to be nervous."
Y/n was going to be subject to the season for the first time, where she could meet her future husband. Despite all the nerves she felt, she was happy to have Kate, Anthony, and the rest of the Bridgerton family with her. Furthermore, she would be in the same situation as Francesca, except that the latter had been named diamond of the season.
"How's mother and Edwina?" Y/n tried to change the subject, instead asking about the two other Sharmas who were in Prussia. Edwina was pregnant with her first child with Prince Friedrich and Mary had gone there, after a brief stop in England, to support Edwina.
"Y/n, don't change the subject. You can talk to me."
"What if no one asks me to dance, Kate?" Y/n finally revealed her fears shyly. She spoke so quietly that Kate had to strain to understand her words, but when she did her eyebrows furrowed in sadness. "You and Anthony took me in, what if now no one asks me to dance and I make you look bad?"
"First of all, you could never make us look bad and we would never be disappointed in you. I even think Anthony's biggest dream would be if you and Francesca didn't dance with anyone." Kate chuckled knowing how protective her husband was. "And I don't want you to be forced to dance with anyone. You can say no if someone invites you to dance and you don't want to. And if anything happens, call Anthony or his brothers."
"I will." the girl nodded, seeing her sister's serious look. "I hope everything goes well."
"Of course it will! And you won't be alone, we'll all be there in case you need anything. And who knows, maybe you'll see a certain prince. I heard the queen is going to make him participate in this season."
Y/n didn't respond to the teasing, she just continued to get ready with the help of the maids. When Anthony called them from downstairs, the two sisters hurried to meet him, seeing that the rest of the family was already there with the exception of Francesca.
When they saw her, a big smile appeared on everyone's faces, Violet going to give her a hug as soon as she reached the end of the stairs and Daphne holding her hand. "You look beautiful."
"Thank you." she smiled at the women, and was later praised by Eloise, and the Bridgerton brothers.
Then, it was Francesca's turn to go down the stairs, catching their attention. After the compliments she received, the girl stood next to Y/n, the two holding hands as they walked to the carriages waiting for them.
"You look very beautiful, diamond of the season." Y/n said with a teasing smile, squeezing her hand in Francesca's in comfort.
"You do as well, Princess Sharma." Francesca giggled. To relieve the tension, the girl looked straight ahead at Anthony who was helping Kate into the carriage, his forehead dripping with sweat as he looked discreetly at the two teenagers. "I think my brother is going to pass out from how nervous he looks."
"Tonight promises to be quite interesting. At least he has my sister to control him a little, or I think he would be glaring at every suitor in the room, even if they didn't even want anything to do with us."
When they arrived at the Queen's castle, they were both amazed by the place. An orchestra played in the middle while some couples were already dancing, the space decorated with various details and chandeliers lighting up the room. When the Bridgerton family entered, everyone stopped to observe the diamond of the season, who was still clinging to Y/n.
To give her the focus of attention, Y/n tried to move away but Francesca just grabbed her hand tighter, sending her a look of fear. The Sharma girl nodded in understanding, then stood on Francesca's side, also being subjected to the curious looks of other people.
"Come on, girls." Anthony said, guiding the family to a corner while everyone analyzed the environment. He then turned to his two friends, who in his eyes were too young to be thinking about suitors, but he knew that this was the right age. "If you need anything, and I mean anything, go to one of us. We'll always be here to make sure you're okay. Now, all of you split up and socialize."
"They already look so nervous and you're going to scare them even more with your nerves." Benedict placed a hand on his older brother's shoulder. "Relax, brother. Go dance with your wife, we are also here to take care of them."
"I know." Anthony sighed, running a hand over his face. His tense muscles only relaxed when he felt Kate's hand caress his arm as she smiled understandingly. "Shall we dance, Viscountess Bridgerton?"
"We shall." she giggled, letting her husband guide her to the center of the room.
Meanwhile, Y/n watched the people at the ball nervously and curiously. They were all dressed to the nines, with the best fabrics and jewelry that showed the families' wealth and status. The Sharma smiled slightly when she noticed a girl being asked by a suitor. It was obvious that they were both nervous, but when he finally managed to ask the question, the girl blushed and accepted with a big smile.
Y/n sighed, turning her attention elsewhere. Her heart was beating heavily against her chest, wondering if she was going to experience the same situation as that girl.
A light touch on her shoulder made her snap out of her thoughts. Y/n turned to the side, her eyes widening when she saw Prince Charles standing there, both hands behind his back and a perfect smirk on his lips.
"Miss Sharma, what a pleasure to see you again."
"Prince Charles." she greeted, making a small bow. "This time I haven't forgotten my manners."
"I must say you look beautiful tonight." he praised, gently taking one of her delicate hands and bringing it to his lips, lightly kissing her skin. Y/n's cheeks immediately flushed, getting worse when she realized that they were attracting the attention of others. "Are you enjoying the ball?"
"Very much, thank you. The orchestra plays beautifully. It's lovely to see so many people dancing, especially my sister and Viscount Bridgerton. I have never seen them happier."
"Indeed. We could dance too… If you would like to, of course." Y/n didn't think she had ever seen the boy being shy, but she had to admit that it was really cute to see him like that.
"Are you sure? Many people are already looking at us… Including the Queen." she whispered the last part with a look of fear. "Are you supposed to find a lady to marry this year?"
"My mother hopes so, but she doesn't pressure me into anything. Right now, I just want to dance with you. Please? Don't pay attention to anyone else, just focus on me."
Y/n swallowed hard, but nodded, resting her hand on the arm Charles offered. The two walked to the dance floor as soon as the song ended, preparing for a new melody. The Sharma girl held her breath when she felt the boy's hand position itself on her waist, pulling her closer, while the other intertwined with hers.
The music started slowly and Y/n let the prince lead her, too nervous to even remember the choreography she had already practiced several times before. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kate and Anthony looking at them as they danced, giving nods of encouragement but still keeping their attention on them.
The rest of the people looked in shock, seeing the youngest son of the Queen and the King dancing with the sister of Viscountess Bridgerton who had caused a lot of talk last season. The Queen was also watching them, a small smile appearing on her lips.
"You're not just focusing on me." Charles hummed, squeezing her waist to show she was just joking. "And on top of that I'm a great dancer."
"My apologies. But I can't agree with the last part. I think —" but she couldn't finish her sentence as Charles picked her up and twirled her around several times until her laughter could be heard above the music.
"Sorry, what were you saying?" he laughed teasingly, loving the blush on her cheeks. He wanted to make her blush all the time, he loved the effect he had on the girl who was constantly on his mind since that day in the park.
"Prince Charles, this will certainly not be seen very well by other people. They are all whispering about us now! More than they already were."
"Call me Charles." He said, ignoring the rest of what Y/n said. His eyes were intense, studying the girl's face and stopping on her lips before moving up to her eyes.
"No."
"No?" he raised his eyebrows, as if he wasn't expecting that answer. Y/n stepped away from him, making a small bow. And only then did he realize that the song had already ended.
"I really enjoyed this dance, thank you. I hope to meet you again. We keep crossing paths so who knows?" she smiled, turning her back and walking towards Francesca who was alone in the corner, a drink in her hand.
Prince Charles definitely wanted to see Y/n Sharma again, his gaze following the girl's movements as if in a trance. Surely him standing in the middle of the dance floor looking at Y/n would be the main topic in the paper of Lady Whistledown.
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you've been one of the pogues since childhood, and your loyalty has always lied within your friend group, who is practically your family. when a threat by the name of rafe cameron begins to threaten the pogue's plans, they assign you to gain the trust of the dubious kook and keep an eye on what he's up to. however, now it's been six months since your friends set you up to spy on the kook prince himself, but what you didn't anticipate was to fall head over heels for the boy. your relationship had soon become inviolable shortly after your guys' first exchanges, much to your friends' dismay, and you two became practically inseperable. that was, until rafe discovers the truth.
genre: angst, smut, fluff
warnings: contains mature themes, violence, substance abuse, alcohol use, addiction, sexually explicit scenes, assault (non-sexual)
↪ one
↪ two
↪ three
↪ four
↪ five
↪ six
↪ seven
↪ eight
↪ nine (coming soon)
© rafesapologist 2023
⏤ pairing: jungkook x female reader
⏤ genre: parent au, exes to lovers, ceo au, angst, fluff, and smut
⏤ rating: 18+
⏤ warnings: dilf!jungkook, tattooed!jungkook, swearing, mention of breakup, mention of jk being a fuckboy, broken hearts, nervousness, communication issues, mention of going through a dark period, oc wasn’t really nice, mention of sickness, mention of the hard side of parenthood, jk and oc are workalcoholics, the closure conversation, mention of sex, mention of death, mention of grief, mention of cheating, sexual tension, dom!jungkook, big cock!jungkook, nipple play, pet names, penetrative sex, protected sex, rough sex, and creampie
⏤ words: 13,986
⏤ summary: meeting ten years later the girl he deeply fell in love with is something Jungkook never thought would happen. But here you are, standing before his eyes with a bright smile on your face as you walk through the massive lobby of his company. At that exact moment, he realizes that the two of you fell in love at the wrong time but is now the right time?
⏤ author’s note: wrong time is finally all yours! i actually can’t believe it’s finally posted after almost a year of work! but it also makes me incredibly happy to release it. the past year has been a crazy year and this fic is a reflection of all that. most of the things mentioned in the fic are things that i experienced so this makes wrong time even more special to my heart 💞 i really want to thank my nikki @xpeachesncream for her support, i know i couldn’t have done it without her! 💞 enjoy the fic & let me know what you thought of it!💞
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Summary: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw and you have been friends since you could remember, just friends (unfortunately) but when you are called back to Top Gun everything changes. You have to keep on the down-low that Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell is your father. Rooster, who you’d been able to read since you were young, seems unreadable to you now. Other pilots that are usually lining up for you, don’t seem that interested (much to your dismay). You are apparently now unable to keep your feeling at bay and oh, right. You have a life-and-death mission in your hands, which is the icing on the cake. Lots of angsty discussions, lots of jealousy, and even dog fights. What else can you expect from a mission on Top Gun?
bradley 'rooster' bradshaw masterlist
playlist
prologue | chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five | chapter six | chapter seven | chapter eight | chapter nine* | chapter ten | chapter eleven | chapter twelve | chapter thirteen | chapter fourteen | chapter fifteen| chapter sixteen | chapter seventeen (scheduled a weeks from now- read early on my ko-fii!!!)
updates on monday, wednesday, friday
also, smut: *
Summary: To the song “Lacy” by Olivia Rodrigo, that should explain it I feel like
Warnings: language, angst, sad sad sad
Note: I think this wasn’t the best I could do so if y’all want a part 2 let me know bc i feel like i could redeem myself
Lacy, oh, lacy, skin like puff pastry. Aren’t you the sweetest thing on this side of hell? Dear angel lacy, eyes white as daisies, did I ever tell you that I’m not doing well?
Luisinha’s eyes twinkled as they stared up at Lando, Y/n huddled in the corner as she analyzed the girl. Lists upon lists of things she had that Y/n didn’t plagued her mind, tormenting every thought and destroying the little bit of self confidence Y/n had left. It was cruel, how sweet and perfect Luisinha was. There was no reason to hate her or criticize her, pick her apart until Y/n felt better about herself. That was the worst part, the thing that hurt the most. It wasn’t the fact that Luisinha possessed the one thing Y/n had yearned for for years before or the fact that Luisinha was loved by everyone. No, it was the fact that, when Y/n lay awake at night, she couldn’t blame anyone else for her mistake other than herself. It was gutting and tiring, but the knowledge that Luisinha was completely innocent, ironically, made Y/n hate her more.
Somebody’s arm brushing up against hers pulled her out of her deep thoughts, her head turning around to see who had taken up the space. When her eyes met that of Lando’s Australian teammate, she smiled.
“They’re cute, yeah?” Oscar chuckled, mistaking her staring for adoration rather than what it truly was; jealousy.
Nodding, Y/n tilted her head as if she really cared about the conversation, “Yeah, for sure. Never seen Lando happier.”
The words were bitter, admitting outwardly that she had never, and probably would never, be the reason for that specific smile on his face.
Oscar took a sip of his water as he looked on at the couple, “Don’t even know how she fell in love with him.”
The world went quiet for a moment as Y/n’s eyes frantically turned to sear into the side of Oscar’s face, “What?”
Her tone made his eyebrows furrow in confusion and the look on her face had him shaking his head, “Did Lando not tell you? They said ‘I love you’ like a week ago?”
Her body went numb, the information hitting her so hard it felt like the air had been taken from her lungs. As if things couldn’t get harder, Lando’s arm wrapped tightly around his girlfriend as he kissed her, very clearly lovesick. She felt stupid. Partially stupid for allowing the deepest part of her to think they would have a chance to be even remotely close to what he had with Luisinha, and the other part being stupid for not seeing how gone he was for her.
It was right in front of her, that part was chilling, but the other part that had her heart sinking was the fact that Lando had forgotten to tell her such big news.
Another thing added to the list of things Y/n didn’t have that Luisinha did; Y/n was forgettable, Luisinha wasn’t.
—
Oh, I care, I care, I care. Like perfume that you wear, I linger all the time. Watching, hidden in plain sight. And, oh, I try, I try, I try, but it takes over my life, I see you everywhere. The sweetest torture one could bear.
Y/n was shivering, the coat she wore not enough to keep her warm in the cold Monaco weather. She checked her phone once more, trying to spot any message from Lando saying he would be there soon, but she came up empty every time.
The hostess, with a look of pity, eyed her from inside the restaurant, the table for two under the name of “Y/n” for the reservation taunting her as she realized what she was witnessing. However, the hostess thought it was Y/n’s boyfriend standing her up, not her best friend who had most likely forgotten about the dinner because he was with his girlfriend.
It took Y/n the next few minutes to pull herself together, coming to terms with the fact that he wasn’t going to answer his phone after the countless messages she had sent him asking when he was going to show up to the dinner they had planned weeks ago.
With her head hung low, she went back into the establishment, muttering words to the woman at the front about canceling her reservations and apologizing for the inconvenience. Before Y/n could turn around and sulk home, however, the hostess reached out and grabbed Y/n’s hand gently. With a small smile, she whispered, “I’m sure there’s a good reason as to why he didn’t show, don’t lose hope just yet. I’m sure he loves you very much. You’re a very beautiful girl, anyone would be lucky to have you.”
Nodding, Y/n didn’t look up from her feet as she thanked the woman and left. The reassurance the woman had intended to be comforting destroyed her just a bit more, resulting in controlled tears falling from her face as she rounded corners and crossed streets.
Whilst waiting for the crosswalk to turn green, Y/n pulled out her phone. Instagram was the first app she clicked, proving to be a wrong decision when she saw Lando had posted on his story. Painfully, it was a picture of him and Luisinha at his house with dinner on their laps. Ashamed of how hurt she was, she tried to convince herself that being mad at him was unnecessary. Her feelings were a product of her longing, something he couldn’t be blamed for. Nevertheless, she couldn’t help, but feel abandoned. Years of friendship down the drain as he got distracted with someone else, someone who gave him more than she could. Luisinha granted him connections to parts of the entertainment industry that could help to grow his companies, gain access to new opportunities.
She tried to convince herself she was happy for him, but that secured feeling never truly came even after she got home.
Looking at her phone once more with no response from Lando, she went to bed.
Or, at least, laid in bed. Previously mentioned nights of staying up to blame herself returning.
—
Smart, sexy Lacy. I’m losing it lately. I feel your compliments like bullets on skin. Dazzling starlet, Bardot reincarnate. Well, aren’t you the greatest thing to ever exist. Oh, I care, I care, I care. Like ribbons in your hair, my stomach’s all in knots. You got the one thing that I want. Oh, I try, I try, I try, try to rationalize people are people, but it’s like you’re made of angel dust.
Nights like these were supposed to be fun. Max, Y/n, and Lando all staying out into the late hours of the nights, drinking and dancing in random clubs around the city. However, this time it proved to be bittersweet as Lando informed the group Luisinha planned to tag along.
Y/n’s smile was fake, of course, but she was prepared to plaster it on for the rest of the night if it meant Lando’s good mood was preserved. Of course, Luisinha had shown up in a designer dress that hugged her body in all the right ways. Her smile was showstopping as she hugged Y/n, whispering to her about how gorgeous she looked.
“Thank you. That’s very sweet. You look very pretty as well.” Y/n got out painfully, wanting nothing to do with the woman in front of her.
“Doesn’t she?” Lando butt in as if he was trying to drive the knife deeper in Y/n’s heart. Safe to say, he was successful.
She chuckled dryly when he started waving his arms animatedly around, shouting, “Gorgeous! Impeccable! Breathtaking!”
It was a wonder Y/n didn’t break down right then. Shades of betrayal dousing out the fire in her eyes, the life in her body, as her mind forced her to take a look back on all the times she had thought Lando loved her as much as she did him. The time when he drove to her house in the middle of the night because she got a stomach bug and was throwing up; the time when he pretended to be her boyfriend so a random man at a bar would stop making her feel uncomfortable; the time when he had opened up to her about his mental health struggles, finishing it off with telling her how much he loved her and appreciated her. That moment, out of all of them, was the worst to relive because it was in the way he said her name, the way his fingers had gripped her hand, as he told her how much he adored her whole being. His tone had made it sound as if a real love declaration was the cusp of his lips, although those specific words never came. Instead, it was a quiet silence as he waited for her to respond and she waited for him to tell her everything she had ever wanted to hear. Y/n had locked that memory away in her mind, it being too crushing to bounce around in her mind like the others did. So, when it came up as he yelled around in front of her about how beautiful his girlfriend was, she was pushed over the edge.
Suddenly, her dress felt too tight and she became too aware of the tips of her fingers touching the tops of her thighs. She no longer wanted to go out and hang out with people whom she wanted to forget about. But, the cruelty of the world seemed to be targeting her as an opportunity to bail on their plans never came, and she was forced to listen to Luisinha’s giggling after Lando whispered something in her ear.
No amount of alcohol could cure the putrid taste of unrequited love, she knew that, but that didn’t stop her from trying. Shots on shots of vodka riddled the booth they had reserved in the back of the club. She didn’t want to dance, didn’t want to talk, she just wanted to sulk in her thoughts and allow herself to wallow in self pity.
Y/n was a fun drunk, but, that night, she was messy and sloppy, the complete opposite of what she knew Lando wanted. Luisinha had gotten tipsy; Luisinha had twirled around on the dance floor gracefully as if she couldn’t mess a single thing up; Luisinha had done everything right while Y/n tormented herself for being nothing like that. She couldn’t get out of her own head, clearly being too far gone alcohol-wise to think straight.
“Maybe you should slow down?” Max tried, coaxing the glass out of her hand when she had accidentally sloshed the liquid onto his lap.
Groaning and rolling her eyes, Y/n grabbed her bag, “You’re no fun. I’m going to find someone else.”
Max shook his head, reaching out to grab her wrist, knowing Lando would kill him if he left Y/n alone like this, but she was too quick for him, disappearing into the crowd in a millisecond.
He shouted for her, eyes scanning the herd of people, before going to check outside, but he continuously came up empty. The situation became even worse when Lando came back to their table, Luisinha in tow, with furrowed eyebrows.
“Where’s Y/n?” He quizzed, his gaze falling on a frantic Max.
“She left.” He said as his eyes failed to meet Lando’s.
There was a silence before Lando tried again, “I’m sorry, what?”
Max scoffed, “Lando, she left. I don’t know where she went and, no matter how hard I try, I can’t find her anywhere.”
Luisinha, being the angel she was, began looking around the club as if she could find Y/n in the spots Max had already looked.
“Did you call her?” Lando asked, pulling out his phone and clicking her contact.
It rang, continued to ring, until it clicked and he was met with an eerie quiet.
“Y/n? Where are you?” He asked softly.
Rustling and heels clacking was all he heard before her slurred words were saying, “I’m walking home.”
He shook his head immediately, grabbing his keys and nodding to Luisinha and Max, telling them he was going to go pick her up.
“No way, Y/n. Your house is so far from here on foot. Let me come get you and I can drive you home, how about that?”
She didn’t have much of a choice considering he was already outside of the club and unlocking his car, but that didn’t get through to her, “No, Lando. I don’t want to see anyone right now, especially you.”
His foot stepped on the gas, driving toward her house and hoping to find her on his way there, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He knew never to reason with a drunk, but she had been so distant lately, he couldn’t help it. He wanted to know what had happened to his best friend and the relationship they once shared.
Y/n huffed, “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Continuing down the road he was on, he saw, in the distance, a black, shimmering dress, similar to the one he knew Y/n had worn that night. Sure enough, as he got closer, he saw her braced against a light post as she tried to take off her heels. Her hair was messy, eyes stained black with her smeared mascara, and, if Lando had to guess, she had been crying.
When he pulled up next to her, she scoffed loudly, “God, you can’t just leave me alone, huh? I said I didn’t want to see you, Lando. Leave me the fuck alone.”
He was visibly taken aback by her hostile nature, but, nevertheless, tried to get her in the car.
“Get in the car, Y/n. You shouldn’t be out here alone when you’re this drunk.” He unlocked the doors and got out of the car, walking towards her only for her to take a step back.
“I don’t want to get in the car with you. Go back to Luisinha.” She was practically spitting her words, aggression dripping off every syllable.
Lando groaned, reaching out for her once more, but just missing her, “Stop being stubborn, Y/n. Get in the car and I’ll drive you home.”
Finally, her fuse having run out, she shouted, “NO.”
Lando’s arms flew out beside him, “Ok, why?!”
She threw her shoe at his legs and, if they hadn’t been so disappointed in the way their partnership had turned out, they would’ve laughed.
“Why’d you never tell me you and her said ‘I love you’?” She stopped, putting her hands on her hips as her anger took a new look, quiet and controlled.
He blinked at her, “Who told you that?”
“It doesn’t matter, Lando. Why?” She shrugged, staring blankly at him.
He looked away from her, hesitant to answer with the truth. His change in attitude allowed Y/n to continue, “What about last week when you didn’t show up for dinner?”
He shook his head, “What dinner?”
Her jaw dropped and she began laughing, “You still don’t remember? Did you look at any of my texts? Never wondered why I called you so many times last Friday night?”
He thought back, remembering he had spent that night with Luisinha, nothing about Y/n blowing up his phone. To check, he pulled the device out, looking through his messages and seeing, lost in all the other people trying to get ahold of him, was her asking where he was.
He breathed out deeply, “Shit, Y/n, I’m so sorry. I completely forgot.”
“Yeah, I’m not surprised. It’s been happening a lot lately.”
“No, don’t do that. It hasn’t.” He tried to convince her, but she seemed unimpressed.
“Alright, so then why did you forget to tell me such a pivotal moment in your relationship?” She tried again.
His head fell into his hands, shaking it side to side, before mumbling, “Because I didn’t want you to get hurt.”
“How would I get hurt?” She said it as if he was stupid and being overly cautious for no reason. The fact that she was actually hurt by it, she wouldn’t tell him.
His eyes flew up to meet hers and in a small moment of confidence, Lando stated, “Because you love me.”
The four words hung in the air, painful and so incredibly true. She tried to come up with a deflection or some sort of counterargument, but, by the way he looked at her, she knew it was no use.
Sighing, “How long have you known?”
His hand grabbed ahold of her arm, her body finally not creating more distance, “That doesn’t matter. Y/n, this doesn’t change how I see you. In fact, knowing it’s true is good because…” He trailed off, their eyes lingering on each other as they both braced themselves for what was about to be said. Y/n let out a small smile for once that night and let herself get lost in the idea of what he was about to reveal, “I lo-”
Whatever he was about to say was completely interrupted when a car pulled up next to them, the window from the backseat being rolled down and Luisinha’s face popping out.
“Good, you found her! Let’s go home. Max and I are so tired.” She gave a tight-lipped smile, unknowingly having stopped a moment that would’ve ended her relationship. Her eyes seemed to follow their movements closely as if she was suspicious of the moment she had caught them in.
Lando looked back to Y/n, an apology swimming in his eyes, but she disregarded it. Muttering incoherent words, she yanked her arm from his hold and got in his car.
Defeated, once more, by the girl she wanted to be.
—
Lacy, oh, lacy. It’s like you’re out to get me. You poison every little thing that I do. Lacy, oh, lacy. I just loathe you lately and I despise my jealous eyes, and how hard they fell for you.
Days after that night, Luisinha’s entire demeanor toward Y/n shifted. She became more antagonistic. Long gone were the sweet comments about Y/n’s appearance, in place were backhanded compliments that had more than a few people raising their eyebrows.
Everything Y/n did was scrutinized and corrected by her, making it seem as though Y/n was incompetent. Subtly mean, Y/n found her reason to hate Luisinha. It was bittersweet, truthfully. Something Y/n had wanted to feel for so long; pure annoyance at the other girl in Lando’s life, but, it also caused a rift between her and him.
Lando and Y/n, the supposed iconic duo, stopped talking. Disappearing from her so rapidly were the nights when they would go out to get food only to gossip the whole time; disappearing were the times when he would invite her out with him and Max. Suddenly, she was seeing Luisinha laughing along with Max as they sat in the same booth she had just a few weeks before on different fan accounts. Luisinha, the better version of her, had become her immediate replacement and it killed her soul. A family she once admired had been stolen from her at the hands of someone she still loved and the other a woman whom, no matter how harsh she was, Y/n would always idolize and yearn to be.
Confusing, nevertheless. Questions now kept her awake at night instead of the usual self-torment.
Wasn’t Lando about to tell her he loved her on that cold, quiet street?
If so, why would he have ousted her so easily?
Why had she given her all to someone who, seemingly, didn’t care?
But, the one thing that never left her alone, the question that agonized her the most was the one there could never be a satisfactory answer to.
Why couldn’t she be Luisinha?
Yeah, I despise my rotten mind and how much it worships you.
A/N: LMK KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS BOTH GOOD AND BAD IDK HOW TO FEEL ABT THIS ONE I HOPE YOU LIKED IT
damn
i yearn for him like the victorian children yearned for the mines
Good morning, Crownlanders. Gossip Girl here giving you an exclusive look into the scandalous lives of King's Landing's elite.
Fall has arrived and with it, our favorite topics of conversation are all returning home to start the new year at Septa Maegelle's Academy for Young Ladies and Septon Barth's Academy for Young Gentlemen.
Jace and Cregan were seen arriving in the Stark family limo after spending the whole summer in Winterfell, accompanied by new student this term, Cregan's little sister, Sara. She and J seemed awfully close, which makes us wonder how that's going to go down with his long-time girlfriend, Baela.
B and her twin sister Rhaena also appear to have returned from a long holiday in Pentos with their parents, looking gorgeous as ever. It begs the question, though. J has accompanied B for every Pentos summer so far. What made this year different?
Aemond has been home all summer, mourning his break up with Floris. However, Little A was spotted going to the airport this morning, our first sighting of him all summer. What could have brought him out of hiding?
And finally? Our beloved Princess has returned home. She was deplaning her family’s jet at King's Landing International Airport with her Louis Vuitton luggage set in tow, coming home from doing some summer work for her mom's company in Sunspear alongside now-graduated bestie Helaena. But our sweet girl seems different somehow. What happened to her this summer?
And where in the world is Aegon? We miss you and your messiness, Big A.
When I find out, you'll be the first to know. You know you love me.
Xoxo,
Gossip Girl
Fandom: House of the Dragon
Main Pairing(s): Modern Aemond Targaryen x Reader
Side Pairing(s): Aegon Targaryen II x Reader, Cregan Stark x Reader, Platonic!Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader, Baela Targaryen x Jacaerys Velaryon x Sara Snow, Aemond Targaryen x Floris Baratheon
Chapter One: Dornish Holiday
Chapter Two: The Breakfast Brunch Club (Coming Soon)
Chapter Three: Petty in Pink
Chapter Four: St. Barth's Fire
Chapter Five: F(r)ight Night
More TBA...
Chapter 1 │Chapter 2 │Chapter 3 │Chapter 4 │Chapter 5 │Chapter 6 │Chapter 7 │Chapter 8 (Work In Progress!)
Hello! My apologies for the wait. There was a whole mess of stuff that killed my drive to write for a few days. BUT, I’ve managed to write this one, featuring baby!Babey as a POV character! I’ve tried hard to keep it in a ‘small person’ voice, which got real old real fast, lol. Keep in mind that she’s around 3 years old in this one, so she’s not hella mature or anything. My thanks to @ewanmitchellcrumbs for reading this asshole over, lol.
TRIGGERS: child doing child things, child narrating Episode 1 of HotD, character death.
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