#Brothers & Sisters Fanfic

[justaz]

merthur marriage of convenience. arthur is complaining that his council is on his ass about marrying and siring an heir and they keep trying to arrange marriages but arthur doesn't fucking want any of them. merlin knows that arthur would like to marry someone he loves but he also knows that arthur has shown no interest in like anyone except when he was enchanted so like...who tf is he gonna marry? he needs to marry someone to get the council off his ass so he's just like "why not marry a friend? ik it wouldn't be a marriage of love but at least you'd have some control and choice in this." and arthur is like "hm. but who tho?"

anyways they make a list of everyone they know who can bear children (bc arthur will need an heir eventually). then they narrow it down, crossing off names like gwen bc she is happily married to lancelot and in a loving relationship with morgana (she has two hands and i love morgwencelot) and morgana (she's literally arthur's sister but they were just putting every name they could think of down first) and elyan (he may be able to bear children but they know he wouldn't be happy going through it bc of medieval dysphoria). eventually it's down to two names, mithian and merlin and arthur looks at merlin's name then up at him and is like "you're literally a trained physician so you should know this but you were literally born a man...how tf are you gonna bear children?" and my beloved genderfluid magic incarnate emrys just shifts her form to female and is like "don't be an idiot. anyways, mithian or me?"

dumb idiot whipped and in love arthur is like "you" and dumb idiot whipped and in love merlin is like "bet". anyways they marry but they're very insistent it's just as friends. lol they have to consummate the marriage the losers. they insist they did that as friends too. the entire round table has way too much fun with this. anyways they remain married "as friends" as they slowly morph into a very loving and touchy relationship "as friends" until they're like casually kissing as greetings and farewells and have that moment of "oh shit we're like actually married and in love" bc they're stupid dumb idiots.

anyways they unite albion and are recognized as high king arthur and high queen merlin and finally have an heir - the high prince/princess whatever you prefer. uhhhh anyways merthur happy ending bc i'm a sucker for it.

[pastryfication]

THE RED SHOES ↳ oscar piastri

based on the fairytale by hans christian andersen | inspired by an old school project i found on my laptop … this took me forever so please give it some love <33

pairing: oscar piastri x leclerc!sister!reader summary: from the moment you were gifted your first ballet slippers, dance had been a constant in your life. a comfort in even the darkest times. but it becomes unhealthy the moment you are unable to take off the shoes.

the most worn out, old shoes in your collection dated all the way back to your fourth birthday. they had been a gift from your three brothers; a pair of red dance slippers for you to wear when you the following week participated in your very first ballet class.

it had been love at first sight for you. the moment you stepped into the studio, feeling the hardwood beneath your thin shoes, seeing yourself reflected in a mirror no matter what direction you looked in, you knew that it was where you wanted to spend the rest of your days. dance became your lifeline, the only thing keeping you going when everything else seemed dull.

when your brothers were off racing and your parents preoccupied themselves with the go-karts and helmets, you found solace in the simple act of ballet. lacing up your shoes, the familiar scent of the studio and the smoothness of the wooden floor always managed to calm you. when the music started, your world narrowed down to the rhythmic beating of the drum and the fluidity of your movements. there, in that sanctuary, nothing else mattered.

your first pair of shoes quickly became worn out, too ruined to be used, and your parents provided you with a new pair. a new pair that soon would be replaced as well.

when you were twenty, you were for the first time introduced to oscar. it was the italian grand prix, an event your entire family always attended in support of your older brother, and that year was no different. you had been wandering around in search of a familiar face when you ran into the mclaren driver. it had been love a first sight—something neither of you believed in, yet couldn’t deny—to put it simple, and the two years you had been together had been nothing short of incredible.

the australian was more than happy to contribute to your collection of shoes that only grew more and more as your training became harder, more challenging, more draining.

he worried. it wasn’t in his nature, not something he found himself doing often, but for you, for the growing dark circles under your eyes, for the weight you only seemed to loose and not gain, he worried.

you would never want him foreboding, never want him to feel the slightest unease, but as your days filled with more stress, your mind started closing up, leaving room for nothing but the new choreography.

each morning and each night, you stepped into the studio, the mirrored walls reflecting your resolve, as the music filled the air like a whisper of promise. each movement carved out a sanctuary, a space where the weight of the world faded to a distant hum.

your body became a vessel for the dance, each plié and tendu an escape from the noise outside. time drifted away, an endless stream of practice and precision and the pulse of the music guiding you deeper into this realm.

the world outside became a mere shadow, its demands and voices lost in the blur of your focus, where you were both lost and found. every ache was a testament to your commitment, every breath a surrender to the rhythm.

the only thing remaining clear was the shoes.

you had long since outgrown the pair your brothers had gifted you so thoughtfully, yet somehow, they stayed with you, not only in the physical sense, but in a way that felt deeper, more insidious. you couldn’t see it then, couldn’t know how easily the delicate line between passion and obsession could blur without you noticing.

your brothers had never fully understood, though they loved you all the same. their world was filled with the rush of engines, the thrill of speed. they were boys of the track, always chasing something fast, something tangible. when they handed you those shoes on your fourth birthday, they had no way of knowing they were giving you something you would chase for the rest of your life. a place you would carve out in the quiet, where the sound of your feet against the floor was all that mattered.

time went on so slow yet so fast. your brothers still called, though not as often as before. arthur’s voice always had an edge of command, as though even over the phone, he couldn’t help but lead you, the only person who would ever follow his command. “we’re all going to monaco this year. you’re coming, right?” his words held the weight of expectation, as though he couldn’t imagine you saying no. but when you hesitated, there was always that brief pause before he moved on, never pushing too hard.

charles’ calls were shorter, more distant, his voice lighter, floating through pictures and scattered texts from whatever corner of the world he happened to be racing through. he asked about the dance, though you both knew he didn’t really need the answer. to him, it was enough that you were still moving, still spinning through your world as he did through his.

and lorenzo—sweet, caring enzo—he called the most, his words gentle but filled with concern as he told you about your mother’s worry. about his own worry. “you sound tired,” he’d say, even when you laughed it off. he noticed things the others didn’t, sensed the exhaustion creeping into your voice, the hesitation between your words. but you reassured him, told him you were fine, always fine.

it wasn’t until oscar voiced the same worry that you began to feel the weight of it yourself. he wasn’t like your brothers—his concern was quieter, but it settled over you like a shadow. he’d watch you in the studio, even when he was busy and cramped by his ever growing career.

silent he was, his eyes tracing the movements of your body as it twisted and turned, as though trying to understand what it was you were chasing. he knew, even if you didn’t want to admit it yet, that something had shifted.

“i’m worried,” he had said one evening, after watching you move through another rehearsal, the exhaustion clinging to you like a second skin. “you don’t have to push so hard.”

his words were soft, but they lingered. you had brushed them aside at first because how could he understand?

the studio was your world. it was where everything made sense.

each day, the pull of the shoes grew stronger, though they were no longer on your feet. the new pairs you slipped on felt no different; they all seemed to carry the same curse, driving you forward even when your body begged to stop. the movements, once effortless, now felt like a compulsion, a promise you couldn’t break. you were chasing something. chasing a perfection that always seemed just out of reach.

it wasn’t until you stumbled—it just a small misstep, barely noticeable to anyone but you—that the truth started to crack open. you stood there, breath caught in your chest, staring at the mirrored walls surrounding you. your reflection looked back, but it didn’t feel like your own. there was something unfamiliar in the way your body moved, something hollow in your eyes. the girl in the mirror was still dancing, but you weren’t sure why anymore.

oscar was a magician in the way he immediately was there, his hand on your arm before you even realized it. “it’s okay,” he whispered, his voice steady, but his eyes told a completely different story. “you don’t have to keep doing this,” he said softly, his fingers brushing against yours as tenderly as if you were close to breaking. “you don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”

you wanted to believe him, but you couldn’t. the shoes still called to you, still urged you forward. they were tied to something deeper than the dance itself, something you couldn’t quite name, but couldn’t quite let go of either.

your brothers called again, their voices distant but filled with love. “come to the race,” charles said. “we’ll all be there. we want to see you.”

and for a moment, you hesitated, the pull of family tugging against the pull of the enchanting movements. you thought of charles‘ steady voice, of arthur’s laughter, of lorenzo’s quiet concern and of your mothers worrying eyes. you thought of your first ever shoes, of the girl who had received them. the girl who danced because it was her joy, not her burden.

but as you tried to step out the shoes, you found that you couldn’t. they were stuck, grown unto your feet so tightly that not even the whispers of your adoring family and all too loving boyfriend could free them. the web had spun for years, and now, it was too late to escape.

[frost-queen]

First birthday (Baby!Reader & Bridgerton Siblings)

Requested by: @winter-solstice24 Forever tag: @missmelodramatic, @alex--awesome--22, @ellie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown , @wildieflower , @meyocoko , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @swampything07, @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @markive-m

“Is everything in order?” – Violet asked looking nervously around. One hand on her stomach, as her other hand was close to her mouth. Muttering out numbers as she was counting the decorations. The drawing room in festivities. Francesca and Daphne were folding napkins to present something celebrating. Colin entered the drawing room carrying a pot with yellow flowers.

“Oh no!” – Violet called out, startling everyone. – “No! no God no!” – She started waving her hand across, making Colin furrow his brows. – “Out! Out with it!” – Violet insisted on. – “But I thought…” – Colin spoke. – “Out.” – she repeated as Colin picked up the pot once more. With a loud groan, he left once more.

Violet moved her thumb to her lips. – “Where are the blue flowers?” – she mumbled in wonder. Eloise and Benedict called out for her to duck as she went down quickly. Over her head they moved the decorative garland to hang above the fireplace.

Hyacinth and Gregory sat by the cakes, whispering to each other which one they would eat first. Anthony neared them, slapping Gregory on his hand as he saw a curious finger go towards the cakes. Gregory whined looking up to his brother. – “No.” – Anthony said with a simple scowl. Colin entered again holding another pot. – “These one’s then?” – he asked.

Violet let out a loud ‘yes’ out of excitement. – “By the window.” – she pointed out. Colin following her instructions. Anthony came by his mother’s side, placing a hand against her lower back. – “It is lovely mama.” – he said bringing a smile on her. Eloise had her arms up as Benedict was trying to pin the garland up.

“I find it an awfully big fuss for a birthday.” – she spoke, puffing some hair out of her face. – “It is her first.” – Daphne replied with a soft glare. – “It is not like she would remember it.” – Eloise answered sticking her tongue out afterwards. Daphne groaned, turning her posture away from her as she felt ridiculed.

Violet looked around the room once more, counting the heads of her children. One, two, three, four…by the time she was nearing the full number she gasped loud. – “Who’s watching Y/n?” – she shouted in full panic. The Bridgerton Siblings all turned to look in shock at mama and each other. Eyes wide with fear as they thought for sure one of them was watching you. – “Y/n! “- Anthony called out expecting you to speak back.

He lowered himself looking low by the floor for you. – “Y/n!” – Colin shouted getting on his knees to go through the room swiftly. Gregory and Hyacinth ducked, pulling the tablecloth up to see if you were underneath it. Daphne got up, searching through the pillows as it annoyed Eloise.

“Truly sister do you think our baby sister would be underneath the pillows? She is small but not that small.” – Eloise commented, receiving another glare from Daphne. – “Y/n!” – Anthony shouted again, going to the second part of the drawing room. Panting loud with worry as he hastened himself to find you.

Violet started to worry as Francesca gave her comfort by rubbing her hand up Violet’s arm. Benedict started searching in all areas where you could hide. Making half a mess of it. Violet yelped loud as he was wrecking her decorations. – “Do you want to find Y/n or not?” – Benedict said loud, holding some decorations in his hand. Violet nodded as Benedict threw the decorations on the ground, continuing his search.

Violet felt a sting of pain seeing her celebration be wrecked. The door opened. A maid entering, holding a baby. – “Look who I found.” – she said happily. All their heads turned in her direction. You smiled, slapping your hand up and down. Anthony sighed relieved, rushing over to her. Benedict pushed Eloise aside to reach you first.

Colin got pushed back to the ground as he tried to get up by Gregory. He was laughing loud as it might be deliberately. Benedict took you from the maid, holding you in his arms. – “Oh Y/n.” – he breathed out, holding your head against his cheek. 

He started bouncing you in his grip, sussing you. Anthony took you from his brother. He held you at arm’s length. – “Don’t do that again.”  - he said sternly. Your reaction was to make some baby sounds and laugh. Anthony’s eyes widened, immediately melting at your sweetness.

He brought you close, to hug. – “You’ll squash her!” – Hyacinth called out. Anthony gave you to Violet. – “You had me worried there birthday girl.” – she spoke moving around the drawing room to sit. All of your siblings followed her, coming to sit as well. Violet sat you down on her lap, laying your dress neatly.

Francesca came over holding a paper crown in her hand. Violet laughed at that, placing it on top of your head. It was too big of course as it fell down, blinding you half. Violet kept laughing removing it from your head as you were already grabbing for it.

Daphne and Colin started giving out cake for everyone. Violet held your plate. – “Happy birthday Y/n!” – they all cheered raising their plate with cake. Your eyes twinkled at the sight of cake. With your eager hands, you grabbed for it. Tearing a piece from it to stuff in your mouth. Cheeks dirty with sugar and cake crumbs.

Violet gave your plate to Gregory beside her to clean your mouth. There were presents that Violet opened for you. After a while you got placed on the ground. Gregory and Hyacinth sitting with you playing with some of the dolls for you. Your elder siblings chatting away. Gregory and Hyacinth started to give more attention to their own game as they had little eye for you.

You looked up to the big world around you. Something catching your eye. Reaching for the sofa, you rose your hands up. Taking a hold of the sofa as you started pulling yourself up with every might. It was nothing new. Something you could do for almost a month now. Pull yourself up and stand. You squealed loud, smiling at your siblings.

Benedict caught your eye as you started opening and closing your hand at him. Benedict who was going for a third piece of cake, noticed it. With his mouth stuffed, he waved back at you. It made you giggle loud with a sharp squeal. Out of excitement you started thumping your foot on the ground. Bouncing with your body. Holding your hand out, you slowly opened and closed it.

Your lips trying to form something. – “MMM.” – was the first thing that came out. – “Ma!” – you squealed out as it sounded almost as your usual squeals. – “Mama.” – you finally formed as barely anyone heard it. – “Mama.” – you repeated once more as Anthony seemed to have heard it. He immediately silenced his siblings to be sure if he had heard it right.

“Did… did you just speak Y/n?” – he asked as all eyes turned to you. You kept grabbing with your hand at him, slowly letting go of the sofa with your other hand. – “Mama.” – you said balancing on your feet without holding anything. Your siblings all gasped in surprise, cheering for your first words. You got caught up with their excitement, moving your foot forwards. Like catching yourself, your feet stumbled forwards, making you stumble for balance right towards Anthony.

“Mama.” – you called out stumbling over to Anthony. Anthony had lowered himself, arms open to welcome you. A wide smile on his lips, proud of his baby sister taking her first steps. Violet and your siblings were going feral that you were making such a big progress. You stumbled into Anthony’s arms as he moved his arms around you, picking you up.

“Look at you Y/n.” – he said proudly with swelled up eyes. – “To me now, to me!” – Hyacinth called out wanting you to walk up to her. Anthony set you down in the right direction towards Hyacinth. Hyacinth sat down, arms open to welcome you. Laughing loud, you started walking stumbly towards her. You paused, looking around. Changing course, you stumbled over to Violet, wanting your mama.

Hyacinth looked bummed when you wouldn’t walk up to her. Violet picked you up, giving you a big kiss against your cheek. – “My sweet little girl.” – she whispered. Proud of you and all that you had achieved on such a celebrating day.

-------------------------------------

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

[moonstruckme]

hi author !!! if it is okay with you i wanna request a fic in the same universe as the Big Brother!Sirius one where in reader gets a (secret) boyfriend and then they break up or whatever u want i just want hurt/comfort 🥹

Thanks for requesting <3

big brother!Sirius + little sister!reader ♡ 996 words

When you hear the door to your dorm open, you assume it’s one of your roommates or Regulus coming to shame you for missing dinner, but then your mattress shifts with the weight of someone else sitting down and a familiar teasing voice says, “If you’re dead under there, everyone’s going to think it was me.” 

You peep your eyes out from under the covers. “How did you get in here?” 

Sirius isn’t even looking at you. He’s making himself comfortable at the end of your bed, both legs crossed under him and hair falling in his face as he unwraps dishes and utensils. 

“Reggie let me in. He seemed to think you might need some company.” 

“He’s such a narc,” you grumble. 

Your brother only snickers. “Sit up, I brought you dinner.” 

You’d much rather stay under the covers, but know Sirius would only wrestle you into an upright position anyway. He always gets his way. 

“Yikes.” He makes a face as you sit up, revealing your bedhead and swollen eyes. “You’re having a rough one, huh?” 

“Shut up.” You glower at him and take the plate. “It’s not that bad.” 

Despite your grumbling, a bit of vulnerability sneaks into your tone. Sirius softens.

“No, it’s not,” he agrees, reaching forward to brush a piece of hair away from your face. “We’re always pretty; it’s in the genes.” 

You can’t help the small smile that fights its way onto your face. This is exactly the sort of thing your older brother would say when Regulus was twelve and sulking over getting his first pimple or when you nearly broke down in tears trying to style your hair. Despite his tomfoolery and general ridiculousness, Sirius’ levity actually provided a voice of reason in your family, reminding his siblings and cousins that things weren’t always so dire. 

“Thanks for bringing dinner,” you say.

“No problem,” Sirius replies softly, as though worried his gentle tone will be overhead and his rapscallion’s repute thusly destroyed. “Is it good enough that you’ll tell me what’s gotten you so upset?”

You blink at him in surprise. “Reg didn’t say?” 

Sirius’ mouth twists, dissatisfied. “He didn’t. I guess I would’ve been more likely to find out if I’d just pretended I already knew, huh?” 

That makes you chuckle. “Probably, yeah.” 

“Well, come on. Now you’ve gotta tell me.” 

You feel your shoulders hunch inwards. “Do I really have to?”

“Yes.” Your brother’s voice is firm, but his eyes are hopeful. 

You want to tell him, you find. You don’t suppose any harm can come from it now. 

You eye him carefully. “I broke up with my boyfriend.” 

Sirius’ eyes pop. He nearly topples your plate leaning forward, like you’re back in your childhood beds trading secrets. “You were dating someone?” 

“I was.” You can’t quite look at him, focussing on cutting your meal into small bites. “Or I thought I was. It doesn’t matter. I’m definitely not now.” 

“Wha—how did I not know about this?” 

“Because obviously I’m not going to talk about my dating life with my brother,” you huff a laugh down into your lap, and you swear you can feel the force of Sirius’ eye roll burning into the top of your head. “No one really knew. He wanted to keep it private.” 

Sirius tilts his head, slotting a piece of his hair behind his ear. “Private in an avoid-the-gossip-mill way or private in a dirty-secret way?” 

You close your eyes, shame curdling in your gut. Even your idiot brother knows enough to be suspicious of something like that. Maybe if you’d told him all those weeks ago, you wouldn’t be where you are now.

“In the second way,” you admit in a whisper. “I, um, sort of assumed it was because of the first, and I liked the idea of keeping things private too, but it turned out he had other reasons.” 

You try to take another bite of food, but it feels soggy and unappetizing in your mouth. You set your plate aside. 

“What happened?” Sirius asks. 

Your face feels miserably hot. “He just didn’t like me as much as I liked him. He didn’t want his friends to know.” Tears burn in your eyes, and when you try to speak again they show up in your voice, too. “I feel really stupid.” 

“Oh, sweetheart.” Sirius sits up on his knees, bending over you to fold you into a hug. His hand presses reassuringly between your shoulder blades, and you let out a little sob. “That doesn’t make you stupid, it only makes him a prat.”

You hug him tightly. “I just feel so silly being upset when he probably doesn’t even care.” 

“You are being silly,” he chastises, but there’s fondness in your brother’s tone. “Of course he cares. He may not be regretting things right now, but I’d bet ten galleons he will be by the end of the month. Trust me, babe, boys are idiots. We don’t know how to act, we almost never know what we want, and we’re ten times more likely to fuck something up if it’s important to us. Just ask Remus.” 

Your laugh is a soggy thing. Sirius rubs your back encouragingly. 

“So, what’s the sod’s name?” 

“Oh, no way.” You laugh even harder, pulling out of the hug to wipe under your eyes. “I’m not telling you.” 

“What?” Sirius throws up his hands. “But we were doing so well!” 

“I’ve handled it, Sirius. I don’t want you to go and turn his skin green or make him sprout nose hairs down to his chin.” 

A giddy grin. “That’s actually not a bad idea. Does Regulus know who it is?” 

You fix him with your sternest stare. Most other people would soil their pants, but because he’s your older brother, Sirius only raises a brow. “If he did, he wouldn’t tell you.” 

“That’s alright.” He steals a roll off your plate, biting into it insouciantly. “I’ll find out.” 

[ericshoney]

Toys! ~ Brothers!Sturniolo Triplets

Summary: When Nick, Matt and Chris are filming their video with the kids toys, their little sister Y/n couldn't help but join in.

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

You were happily playing outside with Trevor whilst you heard your three older brothers shouting in the kitchen. You being the curious five year old you were, wandered back inside to see what the identical trio were up too.

"Hey bub, look what we go." Chris said, as he saw you sneak in.

Your eyes then lit up upon seeing all the toys, a few catching your attention straight away, especially the lamb.

"Woah!" You exclaimed, seeing all of them, instantly grabbing the lamb.

"Careful, kid." Matt said, watching you climb up to sit at the island.

"You wanna film with us?" Nick suggested.

"Sure!" You cheered.

They laughed as they got everything set up. You sat on Chris' lap as he was sat in the middle seat, trying to make sure you don't grab everything, but he had trouble himself.

Nick introduced the video, explaining it was his and Matt's idea, as Chris didn't have a clue. He also introduced you as well.

"Want that." You mumbled, pointing to the lamb.

"We'll get to it bub." Nick said.

You watched as Matt then pulled out a giant egg. He opened it and you saw a large unicorn plush. You gasped softly, feeling how soft it was.

"Well we know that's got a seal of approval." Matt said with a giggle.

You watched as they talked through everything, showing the camera and rating how good the toy was. You held onto the unicorn the whole time, until Snowy the lamb arrived.

"Now we know Y/n is very excited about this one." Nick said, watching Matt rip the box open.

You smiled wide as he got it out and turned it on. You let out a small squeal as it started to walk.

"I don't like it." Chris mentioned.

"You don't have too." Nick responded.

"I like it!" You cheered.

"We're glad bub." Matt said.

You pet the head of the lamb, giggling as it responds. Your brothers smiled seeing you happy about the toys.

The video continued on, none of the other toys really caught your attention as you still held onto the unicorn plush tightly. Soon, the guys had finished showing everything they got.

"Well that's it for today. Thanks for watching a bunch of twenty year old guys play with kids toys, with our special guest! Don't forget to like and subscribe!"

Nick then went to turn the camera off as Chris gently put you down on the floor, letting you run off and play with your new toys.

"Well I'm glad we've made her day." Matt said, smiling as he heard your giggles.

"Yeah, but that lamb is gonna piss me off." Chris muttered, hearing the noises from the toy.

"She's happy you dumb shit, let her be." Nick responded.

The three laughed as you squealed and ran past with the lamb dragging behind you as you chased Trevor. They knew you were chaotic, but happy, which made them smile.

[tulipatheticee]

Hi! I had an idea of Eloise x fem reader, reader being Queen Charlotte’s daughter. They get caught together, and readers mother suggests marriage. With that Eloise and reader start the acceptance of the same sex love/marriage.

love story e.b

eloise bridgerton x queen charlottes daughter! reader

synopsis; In the heart of Regency London, Princess Y/N, daughter of Queen Charlotte, and Eloise Bridgerton find themselves entangled in a clandestine romance amidst the glittering balls and gossip of high society. Their love defies conventions and faces scrutiny, ultimately prompting Queen Charlotte to propose a marriage that could change society's perception of same-sex love forever.

word count; 5.3k

master list

a/n; i went a little ham on this one, i was not joking when i said wlw unlocks something inside of me

as always, kinda proof read, kinda not :p

So I sneak out to the garden to see you

We keep quiet, 'cause we're dead if they knew

So close your eyes

Escape this town for a little while, oh oh

In the bustling midst of London’s social season, Queen Charlotte's daughter, Princess y/n, found herself at the centre of attention. Raised amidst the pomp and protocol of high society, she was no stranger to the expectations placed upon her. Attending debutante events was simply another facet of her role as the queen's daughter—a duty performed with grace and an impeccably polished facade.

It was at one such event, a gathering of debutantes adorned in their finest, where y/n first noticed her. Eloise Bridgerton, amidst the sea of hopefuls vying for attention, stood out not just for her striking beauty but for an air of defiance that seemed to hover around her like an invisible shield. Eloise, with her quick wit and sharp tongue, had garnered a reputation as the most outspoken and unconventional of the Bridgerton siblings—a title she wore proudly, much to her mother Violet's simultaneous exasperation and admiration.

From across the room, y/n observed as Eloise engaged in animated conversation with other debutantes. There was a sparkle in her eye and a hint of mischief in her smile that drew y/n's attention irresistibly. Eloise's laughter, free and unbridled, cut through the polite chatter of the event like a breath of fresh air in a stuffy room. For a moment, y/n found herself captivated, her gaze lingering longer than was strictly polite.

Meanwhile, Eloise, amidst the whirl of introductions and compliments, couldn't help but notice the queen's daughter. Elegant and composed, y/n exuded a quiet confidence that commanded attention without demanding it. Unlike the other debutantes who fluttered around Eloise, y/n stood apart, observing with an intensity that hinted at a keen intellect beneath her composed exterior.

Their eyes met briefly across the room—a fleeting moment charged with unspoken curiosity and intrigue. It was a simple exchange, unnoticed by the swirling crowd around them but leaving an indelible impression on both Eloise and y/n. In that brief encounter, something stirred, a silent recognition that hinted at possibilities yet unexplored.

The grand presentation at the Palace was a spectacle to behold. The ballroom was adorned with glittering chandeliers and opulent decorations, filled with the crème de la crème of London society. Eloise stood in line, fidgeting with her gloves as she prepared to be introduced. Her mother gave her a reassuring smile.

“Stand tall, Eloise,” Violet whispered. “This is your moment.”

As Eloise stepped forward, she caught a clearer sight of Princess Y/N, standing beside her mother. Their eyes met once again across the room, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. Y/N’s gaze was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the intimidating grandeur of the palace. Eloise felt an inexplicable pull towards her, something she couldn’t quite understand.

Just as Eloise was about to be presented, the attention of the room shifted abruptly. The queens guards charging through the doors, whispers of “Lady Whistledown '' spread like wildfire, next thing you know, the queen is declaring she's seen enough and everyone is dismissed and Eloise found herself relieved of the spotlight as gossip overtook the ceremony. The mysterious writer had once again stolen the show, and Eloise couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude for the diversion.

'Cause you were Romeo, I was a scarlet letter

And my daddy said, "Stay away from Juliet"

But you were everything to me

I was beggin' you, "Please don't go, " and I said

The opulent ballroom of Lady Danbury's estate shimmered with the flicker of candlelight and the murmur of polite conversation. Eloise Bridgerton, dressed in an exquisite gown of deep emerald silk that Lady Danbury had insisted upon, moved gracefully amidst the crowd, her gaze sweeping over the assembly of London's elite.

The event was a dazzling affair, attended by the highest echelons of society, each guest meticulously adorned in their finest attire. Yet amidst the glittering array of guests, Eloise's eyes sought out a familiar figure—Princess y/n, who stood with Queen Charlotte, radiating an air of quiet elegance that set her apart from the throng of debutantes.

Eloise couldn't deny the flutter of anticipation in her chest as she made her way towards y/n, navigating the maze of guests with practiced ease. Her heart raced with a mixture of nerves and excitement, unsure of how their conversation at Queen Charlotte's debutante event would influence their interaction tonight.

Meanwhile, y/n observed the revelry with a regal composure, her gaze occasionally drifting towards Eloise amidst the swirl of dancers and the lilting strains of the orchestra. The princess was acutely aware of the scrutiny she faced as Queen Charlotte’s daughter—the expectations of duty and decorum that shadowed her every move. Yet amidst the splendour of the ballroom, y/n found herself drawn to Eloise’s spirited presence and unguarded authenticity. 

Violet Bridgerton, determined to secure another diamond among her brood, guided Eloise through the throng of guests towards the queen and y/n. Eloise, begrudgingly adorned in an elegant gown befitting her station, maintained a facade of polite disinterest as Violet introduced her to the queen and her daughter.

"Your Majestys, may I present my daughter, Eloise Bridgerton," Violet announced with practised grace.

Y/n, acknowledging the introduction with a nod, offered a polite smile that barely concealed her curiosity. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Bridgerton," she greeted eloquently, her voice carrying a warmth that belied her royal stature.

Eloise, though outwardly composed, felt a rush of nerves mingled with an unexpected flutter of excitement. She had anticipated the formality of the introduction, yet y/n's presence seemed to alter the air around her, making her acutely aware of every gesture and fleeting expression.

"Likewise, Your Highness," Eloise replied with a hint of her trademark wit, a small smirk playing at the corner of her lips. "Though I must admit, I am more accustomed to lively debates than royal audiences."

Y/n's smile widened subtly, a glint of amusement in her eyes. "I look forward to those debates, Miss Bridgerton," she replied in kind, a gentle challenge underlying her words.

The exchange, though brief, left an impression on both women. For Eloise, accustomed to the constraints of societal expectations, y/n represented a refreshing departure—an enigma wrapped in regal poise and quiet strength. And for y/n, intrigued by Eloise's spirited demeanor and quick intellect, the encounter ignited a curiosity that lingered long after the ball had ended.

Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone

I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run

You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess

It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"

As the evening progressed, Eloise and y/n’s paths collided again near the elaborate dessert table adorned with crystal bowls of sugared fruits and delicate pastries. Eloise, emboldened by Lady Danbury’s encouraging nod from across the room, approached y/n with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, nerves tingling beneath her skin.

“Your Highness,” Eloise greeted warmly, her voice betraying a hint of nervousness despite her best efforts to appear composed.

y/n turned towards Eloise with a gracious smile, her eyes alight with genuine interest. “Miss Bridgerton,” y/n replied with a nod of acknowledgment, noting the subtle tension in Eloise’s stance.

Their conversation flowed with the ease of familiarity yet tinged with the underlying currents of unspoken desire and mutual intrigue. They exchanged pleasantries about the music, the decorations, and the latest society gossip, each word carrying a weight of unspoken meaning that hung between them like an invisible thread.

Eloise, ever the conversationalist, couldn’t resist steering the discussion towards a topic that had intrigued her since their first meeting. “Your Highness, I must admit, I found your observations on the latest literary sensation quite captivating,” she remarked, her tone light yet tinged with curiosity.

y/n chuckled softly, appreciating Eloise’s intellect and the genuine interest she showed in their previous conversation. “Ah, but Miss Bridgerton, I fear my views on literature may not always align with conventional wisdom,” y/n replied with a playful glint in her eyes.

Eloise leaned in slightly, her gaze locking with y/n’s in a moment of shared understanding. “Isn’t that the beauty of literature, Your Highness? It allows us to explore different perspectives and challenge our own beliefs,” she countered, her voice laced with a mixture of admiration and genuine curiosity.

Their banter continued late into the night, punctuated by shared laughter and stolen glances that hinted at a connection deeper than mere friendship. For Eloise, y/n represented a kindred spirit—a beacon of hope amidst the rigid expectations of London society. She found herself drawn to y/n’s quiet strength and unwavering authenticity, traits that resonated deeply with Eloise’s own aspirations and struggles.

In those stolen moments between dances, y/n found herself captivated by Eloise’s infectious enthusiasm and fierce determination. She admired Eloise’s courage to challenge societal norms and speak her mind, qualities that set her apart from the polished facades of London’s debutantes.

As the evening drew to a close, Eloise reluctantly bid y/n farewell with a promise to meet again soon. Their parting left y/n with a lingering warmth in her heart—a feeling that defied the constraints of duty and hinted at the possibility of something more.

Romeo, save me, they're tryna tell me how to feel

This love is difficult, but it's real

Don't be afraid, we'll make it out of this mess

It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"

Eloise and y/n found themselves entangled in a web of conflicting emotions and societal expectations. Despite the undeniable chemistry that sparked between them at Lady Danbury's grand ball, both struggled to come to terms with their growing attraction.

In the days that followed the ball, Eloise couldn't shake the memory of y/n's enchanting smile and the way her eyes lit up with intelligence and charm. She found herself stealing glances at y/n across crowded ballrooms, each stolen glance fueling a mix of excitement and apprehension.

Meanwhile, y/n wrestled with her own tumultuous emotions. As Queen Charlotte's daughter, she was keenly aware of the scrutiny her actions faced. The prospect of scandal and disgrace haunted her thoughts, casting a shadow over her budding friendship with Eloise.

Their paths crossed again at another glittering social event, where Violet Bridgerton, ever the matchmaker, introduced Eloise to y/n in hopes of sparking a connection. Eloise's heart raced as she exchanged pleasantries with y/n, their conversation laced with a subtle undercurrent of tension and curiosity.

Later that evening, as they found themselves alone in a quiet corner of the ballroom, y/n couldn't help but voice her uncertainties. "Miss Bridgerton, do you ever feel... conflicted?" she asked tentatively, her voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.

Eloise hesitated, her mind racing with unspoken thoughts. "I... I suppose I do," she admitted softly, her gaze searching y/n's face for any sign of understanding. "This world we live in—it's so... unforgiving."

y/n nodded in silent agreement, her fingers nervously toying with the fabric of her gown. "Sometimes I wonder if... if we're meant to feel this way," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Eloise reached out, her touch gentle yet reassuring. "I don't have all the answers, Princess," she admitted, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "But I know that when I'm with you, everything feels... different."

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Lady Danbury, who swept y/n away to greet other guests. Eloise watched as Lady Danbury whisked y/n away, her heart sinking with each step that carried them farther apart. Alone in the bustling ballroom, she found herself drawn to a quiet alcove, seeking refuge from the swirl of conversations and glittering chandeliers.

Leaning against a draped curtain, Eloise closed her eyes and let out a quiet sigh. Thoughts of y/n consumed her mind, their unfinished conversation lingering like an unspoken promise in the air.

She traced the intricate pattern of her gown absentmindedly, her thoughts drifting back to y/n's earnest question. Do you ever feel... conflicted? And back to her own comment before the conversation ended, when I'm with you, everything feels... different. How would y/n have responded to that? Did she feel the same way, or was Eloise's heart leading her down a path fraught with uncertainty?

The memory of y/n's smile flickered in her mind—the way it lit up the room, reaching out to Eloise like a beacon in the darkness of societal expectations. They had danced around the edges of something profound, something that could alter the course of their lives forever.

Lost in her reverie, Eloise was startled by the sound of approaching footsteps. She turned to find Benedict Bridgerton, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity. "Sister, are you all right?" he asked gently, his voice breaking through her thoughts.

Eloise managed a faint smile, though her heart still raced with unanswered questions. "I'm fine, Benedict," she replied, her voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. "Just... lost in thought."

Benedict studied her for a moment, his gaze searching. "Is it about the Princess?" he ventured cautiously, knowing his sister well enough to sense when something weighed heavily on her mind.

Eloise nodded slowly, unable to suppress a sigh. "Yes," she admitted quietly. "We were... talking. About feelings, I suppose."

Benedict arched an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Feelings?" he echoed, prompting Eloise to elaborate.

"I told her... how I feel when I'm with her," Eloise confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "But then Lady Danbury interrupted us, and I never got to find out how she feels."

Understanding dawned in Benedict's eyes as he took in Eloise's words. He reached out, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Eloise, you know what they say about the young Princess," he said gently. "She's smart, perceptive. She'll understand."

Eloise managed a weak smile, grateful for her brother's reassurance. "I hope so," she murmured, her thoughts still lingering on y/n's last words to her.

As the ballroom bustled around them, Benedict offered his arm to Eloise. "Shall we join the others?" he suggested, his tone lightening with an attempt to lift her spirits.

Eloise nodded, drawing a deep breath to steady herself. "Yes, let's," she agreed, linking her arm with Benedict's. Together, they returned to the lively gathering, though Eloise's thoughts remained with y/n—wondering, hoping, and silently yearning for their next conversation.

I got tired of waiting

Wondering' if you were ever comin' around

My faith in you was fading

When I met you on the outskirts of town, and I said

Days passed after the interrupted conversation at Lady Danbury's ball, each one stretching with anticipation and uncertainty for Eloise. She found herself eagerly attending every social event in hopes of catching another glimpse of y/n, her heart skipping a beat whenever their paths crossed across the crowded rooms.

It was at a smaller, more intimate gathering hosted by the Featheringtons that Eloise finally saw y/n again. The evening was alive with music and laughter, the air fragrant with the scent of gardenias and the promise of summer.

Eloise stood near the refreshment table, feigning interest in the punch bowl as she discreetly watched y/n across the room. y/n was engaged in conversation with Dowager Violet Bridgerton, their laughter mingling with the tinkling of crystal glasses.

Summoning her courage, Eloise took a deep breath and approached them. "Excuse me, Mama,  may I steal the Princess away for a moment?" she asked politely, her voice betraying none of the nervousness fluttering in her chest.

Violets eyes flickered mischievously as she glanced knowingly between Eloise and y/n. "Of course, Eloise," she replied with a knowing smile. "Take her—though I warn you, Her Royal Highness has been entertaining us all evening with her wit."

Eloise felt a rush of relief and gratitude towards her mother as y/n turned towards her, her expression lighting up with surprise and delight. "Miss Bridgerton," y/n greeted warmly, setting down her glass to face her fully. "I didn't expect to see you here tonight."

Eloise swallowed nervously, suddenly feeling the weight of her confession at Lady Danbury's ball. But still she continued to escort the Princess through the crowd until they were outside in the garden, under the nights sky, completely alone.

 "I wanted to apologise for our conversation being cut short," she began earnestly, meeting y/n's gaze with sincerity. "I... I meant what I said. About how I feel when I'm with you."

y/n's smile softened, her eyes holding a hint of something that made Eloise's heart skip a beat. "Miss Bridgerton,,," y/n replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper amidst the lively chatter around them. "I've been thinking about that conversation too."

Relief flooded through Eloise as she took a step closer to y/n, their proximity sparking a warmth that spread through her veins. "Really?" she asked, unable to contain the hope in her voice.

y/n nodded, her expression gentle yet filled with a quiet intensity that mirrored Eloise's own feelings. "Yes, really," she confirmed, her hand reaching out to gently touch Eloise's arm. "I didn't get to answer then, but... I feel something too."

Eloise's heart soared at y/n's words, her fears and uncertainties momentarily forgotten in the rush of emotions. "I'm glad," she murmured softly, her gaze locked with y/n's. "I wasn't sure how you'd feel, or... if we could even..."

Before she could finish, y/n leaned in closer, her lips brushing against Eloise's cheek in a tender gesture that sent a shiver down Eloise's spine. "I want to find out," y/n whispered, her breath warm against Eloise's ear. "If we could be something more."

Eloise's breath caught in her throat as she gazed into y/n's eyes, seeing her own hopes reflected back at her. Without hesitation, she reached up to cup y/n's cheek, her thumb caressing the soft skin beneath her touch. "I want that too, Your Highness" Eloise admitted softly, her voice filled with newfound courage and longing.

Y/N smilied, her eyes lighting up. “Please, call me Y/N. Titles are so tiresome, don’t you think?”

Eloise laughed softly. “Very much so. I find this entire season tiresome.”

In that stolen moment amidst the music and the soft glow of candlelight, Eloise and y/n leaned closer together, their lips meeting in a gentle kiss that spoke volumes of unspoken promises and the beginning of a love that dared to defy convention.

As they pulled away, breathless and smiling, Eloise felt a weight lift from her shoulders. Here, in the embrace of y/n's presence, she found not only acceptance but also the beginning of a journey she never dared to imagine—a journey of love, bravery, and the courage to be true to oneself.

They walked together in the garden, the conversation flowing easily. Eloise was captivated by Y/N’s intelligence and wit, and Y/N found Eloise’s rebellious spirit refreshing. As days turned into weeks, their friendship deepened, but so did the confusion. Can this go on forever?

Romeo, save me, I've been feeling so alone

I keep waiting for you, but you never come

Is this in my head? I don't know what to think

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over the gardens of Bridgerton House. Eloise and y/n sat side by side on the swings, their feet lightly touching the ground, pushing back and forth in a gentle rhythm. The air was filled with the scent of blooming roses and the distant hum of London’s bustle, now just a distant murmur.

"I never imagined finding such peace in the heart of London," y/n remarked softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she swayed back and forth. Her eyes wandered over the garden, where vibrant blooms danced in the gentle breeze, their colours vivid against the backdrop of the setting sun.

Eloise, her legs stretched out in front of her, kicked lightly against the earth to keep the swing moving. "It's my favourite place to escape," she said, a small smile playing on her lips as she glanced at y/n. "Thank you for visiting me here."

Y/n turned to Eloise, her gaze filled with an unspoken tenderness. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," she replied, her voice filled with sincerity. She reached out, her hand finding Eloise’s, their fingers intertwining effortlessly. The simple touch sent a jolt of warmth through them, grounding them in their shared moment.

A comfortable silence settled over them, the only sounds the creak of the swings and the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze. Eloise closed her eyes for a moment, savouring the serenity of the garden and the presence of y/n beside her.

"Do you ever wonder what the future holds for us?" y/n asked softly, her voice filled with curiosity as she turned to Eloise, who was still lost in the quiet of the moment.

Eloise opened her eyes, her gaze drifting towards the horizon where the sun was painting the sky in hues of pink and gold. "I used to worry about it," she admitted, her fingers absently tracing patterns on y/n’s palm. "But now... I like to think that as long as we're together, we can face anything."

Y/n's smile was gentle, her eyes reflecting the twilight’s colours as she leaned her head against Eloise’s shoulder. "I believe that too," she murmured, her voice steady with a quiet confidence. "We'll navigate this world together, Eloise."

In the tranquil embrace of Bridgerton House's garden, surrounded by the beauty of nature and the blossoming love between them, Eloise and y/n found solace in each other’s company. The swings moved back and forth, a gentle testament to their growing bond, anchoring them in a love that defied expectations and embraced the courage to live authentically.

He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring

And said, "Marry me, Juliet

You'll never have to be alone

One afternoon in the opulent drawing room of the palace, y/n sat with Eloise, their conversation light and filled with quiet laughter. The warmth of the fire crackled in the background, casting flickering shadows on the richly adorned walls. Y/n leaned close to Eloise, sharing a private moment, both girls peppering kisses over each other's faces, enjoying the feeling of being in each other's embraces. 

Unbeknownst to them, Queen Charlotte had returned earlier than expected, her steps muffled by the thick carpet. She paused in the doorway, her sharp eyes catching the intimate exchange between y/n and Eloise. For a moment, she simply observed, her mind racing with the implications.

"Miss Bridgerton!" Queen Charlotte's voice cut through the air, startling both young women. Eloise turned pale, her heart sinking as she realised they had been caught. Y/n sat frozen, her eyes wide with apprehension.

"Mother," y/n stammered, attempting to gather her thoughts. "I can explain—"

Queen Charlotte held up a hand, her expression unreadable. "There is no need for explanations, my dear. It seems the situation has clarified itself." She stepped further into the room, her gaze shifting between y/n and Eloise.

Eloise stood, her nerves taut with uncertainty. "Your Majesty, please understand—"

"I understand more than you might realise," Queen Charlotte interrupted gently, her tone softening slightly. She approached Eloise, studying her with a discerning eye. "Miss Bridgerton, do you care for my daughter?"

Eloise swallowed hard, meeting Queen Charlotte's gaze squarely. "Yes, Your Majesty," she admitted, her voice steady despite her nerves.

"And you, y/n?" Queen Charlotte turned to her daughter, her expression softening. "How do you feel about Miss Bridgerton?"

Eloise hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. "Mother, I... I care for Eloise deeply. More than I ever thought possible."

Queen Charlotte nodded, her features reflecting a mix of concern and contemplation. "Love comes in many forms," she said finally, her voice carrying wisdom earned through years of navigating societal expectations. "It is clear to me that your feelings are genuine."

Eloise blinked back tears, overwhelmed by her mother's unexpected understanding. Y/n reached out, gently squeezing Eloise's hand in silent support.

“But regardless, you both are participating in acts only those who are married should be. I will not accept a scandal.”

"Mama, what should we do? We can’t imagine life apart!" y/n asked, her voice tinged with hope and apprehension.

Queen Charlotte smiled softly, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. "Perhaps it is time we consider a different kind of arrangement," she mused, her mind already formulating a plan. "One that will allow you both to live authentically, without the confines of societal scandals, the only right choice in these conditions." She paused (dramatic effect no?)

“Marriage.”

And so, in that serene drawing room of the palace, a new chapter began for y/n and Eloise—a chapter marked by acceptance, love, and the courage to challenge tradition.

I love you and that's all I really know

I talked to your dad, go pick out a white dress

It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"

In the warm, inviting drawing room of Bridgerton House, Eloise nervously clasped y/n's hand. The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows on the walls, adding an air of solemnity to the moment. Around them, the Bridgertons—Anthony, Benedict, Colin, Daphne, and the younger siblings—gathered, curiosity etched on their faces.

Eloise took a deep breath, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and apprehension. "I... We have something to share," she began, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach.

Anthony, ever the observant eldest brother, arched an eyebrow. "Go on, Eloise. What is it?"

Eloise glanced at y/n, drawing strength from their presence. "y/n and I... We've decided to take a step forward together. We're engaged."

There was a collective gasp of surprise from her family. Daphne's eyes widened, her hand instinctively reaching for Benedict's. Benedict leaned back in his chair, a grin spreading across his face. Colin adjusted himself, trying to process the unexpected news.

With the initial shock beginning to subside, the Bridgertons exchanged bewildered glances, each processing the news in their own way.

"Wait, you two are... engaged?" Colin asked, his voice filled with surprise.

Daphne, recovering from her initial shock, spoke gently. "But... how? I mean, are you even allowed to... marry?"

Eloise smiled, a touch of defiance in her eyes. "Yes, Daphne. Queen Charlotte herself has given us her blessing."

Colin, adjusting to the news, nodded thoughtfully. "I see. It's certainly unconventional, but if Her Majesty approves..."

Anthony, ever the pragmatist, chimed in. "Well, then. It seems we are in uncharted territory, but as long as you're both certain..."

Eloise and y/n exchanged a glance, their bond palpable. "We are," y/n affirmed softly.

"Eloise, are you certain about this?" Francesca asked, her voice tinged with concern.

Eloise nodded, her gaze unwavering. "Yes, Francesca. I've never been more certain about anything in my life."

Benedict, always the voice of reason, spoke up next. "Well, this is quite unexpected, but if it's what makes you both happy..."

Hyacinth interjected, unable to contain her excitement. "Eloise, this is incredible news! I didn't think you'd ever settle down."

Anthony, who had been silently observing, finally spoke. "Eloise, Princess Y/N, if this is your decision, then you have my support. Always."

Eloise squeezed y/n's hand tighter, feeling a wave of relief wash over her. "Thank you, Anthony."

As the evening wore on, the atmosphere shifted from confusion to acceptance. The Bridgertons, while initially taken aback, found themselves embracing Eloise and y/n's decision. It was a moment that marked not only a new chapter in Eloise's life but also a testament to the changing times—a time when love was beginning to transcend boundaries and expectations.

Outside, the bustling city of London continued its rhythmic pulse, unaware of the quiet revolution unfolding within the walls of Bridgerton House—a revolution led by two hearts brave enough to defy convention and choose love, in all its unexpected forms.

'Cause we were both young when I first saw you

Eloise stood by the window of their home, gazing out at the bustling streets of London. It had been nearly a year since their marriage, and the city seemed to hum with a different energy. Change was in the air, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in what she and y/n had accomplished together.

The early morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. Beside her, y/n stirred in their sleep, their features softened in the gentle dawn. Eloise smiled fondly, reaching out to brush a lock of hair from y/n's face. They had been through so much together—the secret glances, the stolen kisses, the fear of discovery—and yet, here they were, stronger than ever.

Their marriage had sparked conversations across London society. Some viewed it with curiosity, others with disdain, but Eloise and y/n had found unexpected allies among their peers. Lady Danbury, always a force to be reckoned with, had become a staunch supporter, using her influence to deflect any lingering whispers of scandal.

As Eloise reflected on their journey, she couldn't help but marvel at how far they had come. They had faced challenges and uncertainties, but through it all, their love had remained steadfast. They had created a sanctuary within their home, where they could be themselves without fear of judgement or reprisal.

Outside, the city continued to wake up to a new day. Carriages rumbled past, merchants called out their wares, and London life carried on its bustling rhythm. Eloise turned back to y/n, watching as they stirred awake, their eyes fluttering open to meet hers.

"Good morning," y/n murmured, their voice still laced with sleep.

"Good morning," Eloise replied, leaning in to press a soft kiss to y/n's lips. They shared a quiet moment together, the warmth of their embrace speaking volumes where words fell short.

"I never imagined we'd be here," y/n whispered, their fingers tracing patterns on Eloise's cheek.

"Neither did I," Eloise admitted, her heart swelling with emotion. "But I wouldn't change a thing."

They lay entwined in each other's arms, basking in the simple joy of being together. Outside, the city continued its daily hustle, but in their sanctuary, time seemed to stand still.

In the weeks and months that followed, Eloise and y/n continued to navigate their newfound roles as partners in life and advocates for change. They attended social events hand in hand, their presence a quiet yet powerful statement of love and acceptance. Through their actions, they hoped to pave the way for others who dared to love outside of society's conventions.

Occasionally, they would steal moments alone, away from the prying eyes of society, to remind themselves of the bond they shared. Whether it was a quiet evening at home or a stolen kiss in a secluded corner of a ballroom, every moment together reaffirmed their commitment to each other.

Their love story became a beacon of hope for those who yearned for acceptance and understanding. Slowly but surely, attitudes began to shift. Families whispered their support in drawing rooms, friends offered quiet encouragement over tea, and London society found itself grappling with the idea that love knew no boundaries.

As the years passed, Eloise and y/n's love story continued to unfold, weaving itself into the fabric of London's history. They faced challenges and triumphs together, building a life filled with laughter, companionship, and unwavering devotion.

Eloise often found herself marvelling at the resilience of y/n, their strength and determination a constant source of inspiration. Together, they navigated the complexities of societal expectations and personal desires, forging a path that defied tradition and embraced love in its purest form.

And so, in the quiet moments before dawn, as the city stirred awake outside their window, Eloise held y/n close, knowing that their love had not only changed their lives but had also left an indelible mark on the world around them.

I did not plan the lyrics around an epilogue and ran out HAHA oopsie

a/npt2; AHHH how did you guys feel about this, i tried to mot make it rushed i really wanted to start from the beginging and build their realtionship in a way a oneshot can, ive been considering writing a story once im done with these requests so we can get some better romance building then!!

[jasmines-library]

Could you maybe write a platonic Damian x sibling reader (younger but not hy like a lot). And they had a nightmare and go to Damian in the middle of the night. And they're scared that he's gonna get mad that they woke him up, but they didn't know who else to go to

No pressure, of course!! I hope you have a wonderful day/night/afternoon or whatev!!! 🫶🫶🫶

Hold Me Like A Grudge

Summary: Ever since you joined your father at his home, Damian Wayne had despised you. He tries to spend his time as far away from you as possible, until one night you seek comfort in him after a nightmare and everything changes. (gn reader :))

Note: Thanks for requesting lovely! this was so cute to write and a much needed break from the angst for you all (kinda...)

Warnings: Being ignored by Dami, nightmares, none really it's a fluffy fic!

Word count: 1.4k

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

Damian had never been one for comforting tendencies. He often chose to seclude himself away in a corner, brooding in his own self pity or grumbling about his early-teenage misery. Apparently it had gotten worse since you arrived; having another sibling to pester him didn’t sit well on his behalf, so each time the sound of your small feet pattered into the room, he would turn his gaze away or collect his belongings that he had strewn across the room and left. You weren’t entirely sure what you had done to receive the silent treatment from Damian. Dick, the eldest of the bunch, had tried to reassure you that it was nothing personal. That he had acted that way towards him when he first arrived sending his cold glares from across the room or barging past him in the hallways, but something about the way his face contorted and his lip twitched revealed something else. 

Damian Wayne was jealous. Despite the fact he would rather die than admit it, he couldn’t stand having someone else in his way. You were his biological half sister. The only other person related to the one and only Bruce Wayne. And he hated you for it. He hated Bruce for it. He hated himself for hating it, but that didn’t stop his grudge from lingering. It didn’t help that your charm meant you got along with the rest of the boys better than he did; you had shown them kindness where he had shown them coldness. 

When Bruce told him that he was responsible for you whilst the others were out on patrol he did very little to hide his disdain; rolling his eyes and stomping off to his room but not before snarling at you as he pushed past. 

The manor was eerily quiet that night. It was dark and without the obnoxiously loud antics of your older brothers the place felt empty. Damian was off sulking somewhere and Alfred was monitoring the computers so you were left alone to navigate the endless rooms and high ceilings. You hadn’t been at the manor long so you were still a bit unsteady when it came to navigating the maze of walls but without anyone to help you when you turned a wrong corner, it took you much longer than it should have to find your room. There were a few lights on in the halls, but all of the rooms were dark and vast and the condensation building up on the cold glass didn’t help your feeling of unease. A shiver crawled down your back and you tugged the hem of your hoodie over your hands. You breathed a heavy sigh of relief when you pushed open the door and collapsed onto your bed, burying yourself under the sheets and squeezing your eyes tightly.

Sleep didn’t come easy, much to your dismay. There were too many odd sounds drifting through the house; something clicking, the wind whipping around outside, tree branches tapping on the glass, a dripping tap in your bathroom that stopped for a few blissful minutes before starting up again with a monotonous tempo. Tucking your knees and head to your chest you tried to bury yourself deeper into the bed and drown out the sounds that to someone who had lived there a while wouldn’t even bat an eye at. 

When your tired body finally dragged sleep into it’s clutches it was restless. You tossed and turned with a furrowed brow. The images were dark and disturbing; twisted figures of your new family being captured, of strange figure looming over you in the dark reaching out a cold, bony hand that could have easily been mistaken for a claw until it was only inches away from, reaching and reaching until the icy digits brushed the surface of your skin.

You shot up, kicking off the sheets and clutching your skin where the hand had touched you; you could have sworn you could still feel it there so cold that it felt as though it were going to burn a hole into your delicate skin. Tears rolled fat and ugly down your cheek and your forced yourself out of bed with trembling legs. Your feet carried you down the hall and before you knew it had planted you outside of Damian’s room. Like the others it was dark and silent, but you knew it was his. You had walked past it too many times, itching to just catch a chance of talking to him. Despite your state, your hand hovered above the frame unable to bring yourself to knock. What if he yelled at you or turned you away like he usually does? You supposed you could go and find Alfred instead- no. He was busy. The idea was gone from your head almost as soon as it had appeared and with a shaky sob you rapped your knuckles against his door. 

“What do you want-”

He opened the door much quicker than you thought he would. His jostled hair and cantankerous stare loomed over you, but he changed very unexpectedly when he noticed your sobbing and dewy eyes. Without thinking twice you wrapped your arms around him bawling into his chest. His body relaxed slightly as he frowned sympathetically, wrapping an arm around you and bringing you closer to him. It was odd even to him that there was something special about the moment. Damian wrapped you and led you over to his messy bed, settling you on the edge. The dampness that has seeped into the middle of his shirt didn’t bother him as he crouched down on his toes in front of you. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, uncharacteristically tenderly. 

“I…i-” You stuttered trying to force the story out but only failing which just ended up causing a fresh bout of tears to fall. 

The boy cupped your hands in his, getting your attention. Tilting your head up, you saw his softened gaze. 

“Calm down, kiddo. You’re okay.” He gave you a gentle nod of reassurance. 

It took a few moments but soon your blubbering slowed into something of a calm, only interrupted by the occasional hiccup that pushed it way past your lips. 

“That’s it kid.” He rubbed your back “You’re okay.”

“I’m so-rry.” You hiccupped. “Please don’t be mad at me.”

This made Damian pause as a feeling of being humbled washed over him. 

“Tt. Why would I be mad?”

“Because I woke you up.” You pushed yourself up to stand, wiping away tears and making your way to the door. “I’m sorry. I’m being stupid.”

“Oh..y/n…”

Everything seemed to hit Damian all at once. He had been so caught up in his own jealousy that he had completely refused to think about how you felt and it occurred to him that you had so much more in common. You were a scared kid who had just been thrown amongst the most complicated family in Gotham. You were in need of love and guidance and he had failed to do that. The dark haired boy began to feel very guilty. It was his responsibility as your older brother to show you the ropes and he had point blank refused. 

He pushed himself up and settled down on the bed gesturing for you to follow. For a moment he thought that he had completely ruined everything; that you were going to leave and just suffer in silence albeit you walked over to the bed and perched on the end enjoying the way that the memory foam sank down slowly around you.

“I’m so sorry that I haven’t been there for you. It was selfish of me, I understand now that-”

“It’s okay.” You cut him off with a smile.

He nodded contently and pulled you into a hug. 

After a while you meekly broke the silence. “Dami?”

“Mmh?”

“Can I stay here tonight? Please?”

Damian grinned down as his little sibling proudly for the first time since you had arrived. He then shuffled across the bed and opened up the duvet for you to clamber in next to him. He slung an arm over you protectively. 

“You can stay whenever you need, Little Bat.” 

[boiohboii]

The Royal Way 《Pt.2》

(Leclerc!reader x Prince of Monaco!oc)

After his older sister marries into the Monaco Royal family, Charles knew he would be treated differently, to his surprise (and his sister's disappointment) his F1 team, ferarri, treated him the same way.... and that did not sit well with the new princess of Monaco

or

in which YN Leclerc uses her new familial connections to fuck up ferarri just like how they fucked up her baby brother's hopes and dreams.

N.B: so, this was supposed to be longer and the last part, but it's currently 3 AM and I have classes at 8 AM thus me splitting this little fic into a trilogy. Hopefully, I will have time tomorrow to post the third and final part! Thank you for reading and let me know what you think!! WARNINGS: NOT REALISTIC AT ALL!! if you are looking for a realistic revenge sort of plot, it is not here, I tried as best as I can to search up what the whole electronic system does and it's relation to the DRS, BUT I AM BY NO MEANS AN EXPERT NOR HAVE ENOUGH KNOWLEDGE, SO EXCUSE THE POOR RESEARCH. The car designs are from Pinterest... Some swear words (fuck, bitch, etc...) Let me know if I missed anything else please!

Faceclaims:

yn leclerc --> anya taylor joy

Prince Thierry --> louis partridge

Masterlist // part 1

Liked by ferrariisdone, charlesthefrench, leclercfam and 716,920 others

F1_updates_live: Prince Thierry and Princess YN Leclerc heading into the Ferrari motor home in LA. Neither of the Royals look ecstatic to be in this position and it's no doubt to do with the statement released by Ferrari's Formula one media team, where they had essentially blamed the newly wedded Princess, YN Leclerc and their own driver, Charles Leclerc, for his DNF in the previous GP.

username: let them cook

username: the amount of bodyguards they have is insane

username: they do not look happy

username: yeah, no shit sherlock, ferrari basically said that it was yn's fault that Charles is distracted

username: ferrari blaming everyone but themselves

LEAKED AUDIO FROM LAS VEGAS GP, FERRARI'S MOTORHOME: tensions rise in the Ferrari garage as the young royals of Monaco, Prince Thierry and Princess YN Leclerc, threaten Fred Vasseur of taking him to court after buying out the rest of Charles' contract with Ferrari.

(Princess YN Leclerc,Prince Thierry, Fred Vasseur)

"It has been proven time and time again that the team is so incompetent! Why won't you do any changes?"

"Do you think that it's easy? These are people's livelihoods we are talking about"

"You do realise you are talking to a princess, right? She is well aware of how to run a business and a team, unlike you."

"I am just saying that I can't just fire people because Charles can't manage the car!"

"CAN'T MANAGE THE CAR? Are you out of your fucking mind mr. Vasseur? There is evidence, very strong evidence for your information, that the problem was from the electronic system. Do you have any idea how fucked up your engineers and strategists have to be to send out a car with failed electronic system?"

"Correct me if I am wrong my darling, but don't the electronic system control the DRS?"

"Mmhhmmm"

"And if the DRS opens in a corner it might result in a crash, am I correct mr. Vasseur?"

"The DRS was fine, there was-"

"My husband is asking a yes or no question Fred."

"Yes."

"So basically, Ferrari's Formula one team had, intentionally and with their knowledge, put a member of the monegasque royal family in direct danger."

"But Charles isn't a member of the royal family! He is only YN's half brother!"

"PRINCESS YN MR VASSEUR! YOU WILL DO WELL TO REMEMBER THAT!"

"Charles is my brother, and you dare put him in harm's way. I am princess YN Leclerc of Monaco, I can and I will hold you accountable as the principal of this team."

"You can't do anything! Carlos had the same car-"

"Carlos did not have the same car and you know it!"

"We already know Fred, we have had professional inspections done on both cars, it's quite deceiving really, telling a driver that he's the priority and still disappointing him every single time."

🔊 a thud is heard 🔊

"This is the amount of money to buy Charles out of Ferrari, but don't spend it Fred, we will be getting it back in court."

"YN WHAT WE-"

"PRINCESS YN FRED! *sigh* it seems like no matter what you are still convinced that you and your workers did no wrong, we will see about that."

"There is only one race left, there will be no team to take in Charles now!"

"Oh, we are not looking for a team to take him in, we made a team for him."

{Taglist: @phillydilly @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @omgsuperstarg @formulas-bitch @brakingboundaries @kyuupidwrites}

[ginax0916]

✿𖡼 𝐁𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝, 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐟, 𝐌𝐮𝐭𝐞 𖡼✿

Sturniolos x little sister (LS)

Warnings: Blood mentioned

Synopsis: The triplets and their LS decide to try the blind deaf mute challenge, without knowing the chaos it would cause.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚✩

LS POV:

“Hey everyone! Welcome or welcome back to our YouTube, so today we’re doing another part to our Blind, Deaf and Mute series. But today we have our little sister here so she will be joining as well” Nick introduces the video.

“Since there’s 4 of us, one of us will have to be both blind and mute so we’re gonna do rock paper scissors to determine who is what” Matt adds on.

“Ok ok Rock paper scissors shoot!” Chris’s says as we all play the game. The winner of each round gets to pick what they want to be, the last one is the one who will be blind and mute. And due to my luck, it was me.

“Ok so I will be mute, Chris will be deaf, Nick will be blind and y/n will blind and mute!” Matt says.

“Thank god I won’t have to hear her annoying voice” Nick mumbles quietly.

“Hey! I heard that!” I angrily say.

“Alright alright enough let’s start” Chris yells not knowing how loud his voice is because of the noice canceling headphones which are blasting music in his ears.

I put on my blind fold and put one of Chris’s bandanas over my mouth and so does Matt meanwhile Nick puts on his own blind fold.

Truth be told not being able to see is quite scary. Especially around my brothers.

“Ok let’s fucking start already get the stuff out!” Nick screams.

“Shut up Nick I can hear your loud ass voice even with the headphones on!” Chris screams back.

It hasn’t even been 5 minutes and the screaming matches have already began. I know for a fact it’s only about to get worse.

As I’m emptying the bag of cake mix into the bowl, I feel a tap on my shoulder. I jump from the sudden touch but then I realize it has to be Matt since he hasn’t said a word. He carefully hands me 3 eggs which are needed.

I proceed to crack the eggs into the bowl using my hands to guide where the bowl is. As I’m about to crack the last one, Nick pushes me as he’s trying to get to who knows where. The egg falls onto the counter and completely shatters causing it to go everywhere.

“Ughhh” I groan into the bandana.

“Nick you made a fucking mess!” Chris screams at him as he sees the mess all over the counter.

“I can’t see mother fucker it’s not my fault!” Nick screams back.

“So then stop moving around dumb fuck!” Chris replies.

All their screaming isn’t going to help clean the god damn mess up. I start growing irritated at them from screaming instead of helping me get paper towels since I can’t see either.

I feel two hands on my shoulders, I’m guessing it’s Matt, who guides me to the counter on the other side where the paper towels are. But then the hands let go.

“Matt get off!” Chris screams. Well there goes Matt into the fight.

I feel around the kitchen with my hands trying to find the counter where the paper towels should be. Finally I find it, but to my luck, once again, it’s a closed packet of paper towels. I try to feel around in hopes of finding an opened roll but nothings around.

I grab the pack and try to rip it open with my hands. It doesn’t even budge. I feel around some more and I finally touch something other than paper towels. It’s scissors. I carefully try to place the scissors at a correct angle to cut through the plastic. Without a thought I snap them shut.

“Oh my god” I say, muffled through the bandana. A stinging sensation starts to form. Only getting worse and worse. I rip the blind fold and bandana off with my free hand only to be met with the sight of blood on the counter and on the scissors. It’s not a huge amount but it’s still there. I look at my finger and it has a pretty deep cut. Not deep enough for stitches but deep enough to bring tears to my eyes. I don’t do good with blood so I start to panic. With my shaking hand I grab some of the paper towels I just opened and put them on my finger.

“Guys I need some help” I say with a trembling voice.

“Stop being fucking idiots and mix the fucking batter!” Nick screams at Chris and Matt.

“You’re being an idiot you aren’t holding the bowl strong enough so every time I mix it moves around moron!” Chris screams back. Matt only groans loudly since he can’t speak.

“Guys seriously I need help” I say a bit louder.

“NICK STOP!” Chris screams louder if that’s even possible.

I can’t do this. The screams. The blood. The stinging. I start to breathe heavily and my eyes fill with tears. I run out of the kitchen and up to my room quickly. As I shut the door I burst out into tears holding my bleeding finger close. Small blood stains get all over my shirt. What am I meant to do?

Matt pov:

“Y/n can you pass me another spatula please?” Nick asks.

“Y/n?” Chris calls out.

We all turn around only to find her nowhere in the kitchen. We all take off the stuff we had and realize that she isn’t in the kitchen at all anymore.

“Ok guys seriously where did she go?” I ask.

“I don’t know but there’s fucking blood on the counter” Chris says with panic and he points to the counter opposite from us.

“What the fuck” Nick says as we all walk to the counter with blood and paper towels.

“Ok c’mon let’s go find her she’s obviously not ok” I suggest while walking to her room, my brothers following behind.

As we get to her door, I knock three times but no answer.

“There’s blood on the counter and she wasn’t in the kitchen I’m not fucking waiting for her to answer the door. God for all I know she could be dead!” Chris says as he barges into the room.

“Don’t say shit like that!” Nick replies before following us into her room.

“Y/n?” I call out.

“What do you guys want” She responds with an angry tone while walking out of the bathroom with a first aid kit in her hand.

“What happened? We saw blood on the counter” Nick asks.

“You would know what happened if you had answered me when I asked you guys for help but you were too busy screaming at each other to even hear me” Y/n says angrily as she digs through the first aid kit for bandaids.

“Look we’re sorry. We didn’t mean to get into an argument” Chris speaks up.

“The video was meant to be fun but I ended up with my finger cut open and you idiots going at each other” Y/n says with an angry tone.

“Y/n please. We’re really sorry ok? We didn’t mean to ruin the video and we didn’t mean for you to get hurt” Chris speaks while walking closer to her.

“Here let me help” I say as I grab the bandaid from her trembling hand.

“Does it hurt?” Nick asks.

“Mhm it really stings” She nods while flinching as I try to put cream on her cut.

“Hey it’s ok” Chris says hugging her as he noticed tears prick at her eyes.

“We’re so sorry we ruined the video y/n I know you were looking forward to it” I say as I finish putting a bandaid on her finger.

“It’s ok just try to get along better sometimes please. I don’t like watching you guys scream at each other all the time. Especially when we’re trying to do something fun” She speaks.

“I know and we promise we’re gonna try ok?” Chris says, still hugging her.

“Alright then” She smiles.

“Last one to the kitchen has to clean all the mess!” Y/n screams and takes off running in a fit of laughter.

“Hey that’s not fair we weren’t ready!” Chris screams as we run after her.

Low key hate this 🤗

[sentient-stove]

“I grew up without parental supervision in a mansion filled with stolen magical artifacts right next to the mundane not magic ones. Of course I was gonna develop my own magical signature.” He popped the lock, and Elle watched as Tim spit into his hand, using it to smudge the charcoal wards on the window frame. “I want a Mr. Whippy.”

She’s starting to see why Mr. Constantine is supposed to be watching them. Tim was clearly hyper independent, and didn’t seem to be worried about falling to his death, clambering out of the window to perch delicately on the fire escape. Elle also considered herself to be decently hyper independent but Danny had said to ‘trust Constantine and lay low’. Heading out to find whatever a Mr. Whippy was seemed like the opposite of laying low.

“What’s a Mr. Whippy?”

“Cheap ice cream with a Cadbury Flake. Best London’s got to offer. Want to help me find a place that sells them?”

“Did you really use necromancy? More than once? And try to clone someone?”

“I’ll tell you about the first guy I brought back if you help me annoy Constantine by breaking out. Never cloned anyone though. Like, I mean,” Tim trailed off and pulled his hoodie sleeves over his fingers, nervously fidgeting. “I looked into the schematics of possibly doing so. But cloning him wouldn’t have brought my friend back. So I never followed through.”

…

Previous miscellaneous section here

[solbaby7]

Forbidden Fruit

cassian x rhysand’s sister!reader

[ part one ] you are currently reading part two

[ masterlist ]

warnings: smut babe, swearing, probs typos, underlying tones of some predator/prey kink but it’s super mild, fucking your brothers best friend, unprotected sex (lol don’t do that), minors DNI

summary: The General Commander of the Night Court finds himself falling for the High Lords precious little sister.

—

Cassian was a handsome male.

Not to be cocky or arrogant but he knew his face was appealing—knew that females lusted after him and his body in a way that had become utterly natural to him. Easy even.

This. You—were anything but easy.

You were complex. Intricate. Delicately woven by caring hands that added an abundance of brains and wit. You were enigmatic, drawing in even the most prickly of persons with your attentiveness. A balm that soothed over vicious wounds and angry scars. You were the sun and the moon and all the air between it; free and malleable, warm and waning. Cassian had never met a female so cunning—so effortlessly everything.

The awareness of such a rarity instills a certain pressure on the General’s shoulders. One that felt more stressful than war. Truly, he’d endured battles that hadn’t even begun to set his stomach in such a state of fluster.

It’s nerve-wracking, so much so that Cassian had already wrestled through half of his closet, changing shirt after shirt because one fit too tight which seemed a little too eager. But, the other shirt was too loose and make him look like he wasn’t putting in enough effort. Black shirts were too plain. Red was too out there. Blue didn’t feel like him and he’d be an idiot to arrive at a party wearing his leathers.

Wings ruffle in frustration, inky hair unbound and falling at his shoulders as he stares at the mess of cloth loitering his floors.

He nearly gives up, fully intent on marching over to wherever you were naked from the waist up before hazel eyes catch on the fluttering red ribbon in his peripheral.

A breath escapes him, the beginnings of a smile curling onto his face when taking in the outfit hanging from his door, perfectly tied with your taunting crimson beacon. Stress dissipates as if it never was there in the first place, the lingering notes of your scent stuck to the fabric and Cassian wastes no time putting in on, fingers still fastening buttons as he all but stumbles from his room.

He’s acutely aware of the house he lives in more than he’d ever been before, honeyed irises tracking every nook and cranny until he watches sight of fluttering red dangling from the chandelier. It’s too high to collect but once he notices it, the ribbon disappears in a puff of darkness before reappearing a few feet away.

Anticipation builds the further he follows, palms sweaty and heart hammering against his ribcage in excitement as he’s ushered to your wing of the mansion, led down a flight of stairs and nudged towards a hallway he doesn’t remember ever seeing before.

Your scent seeps through the cracks of thick set of double doors, ribbons righting the way closer and closer to you and Cassian’s heart echoes like a drum. Sweaty palms rub against his pants, tongue licking along the seam of dry lips as anticipation swells, throbs, aches its way to the surface until the handle of the door is all but ripped from the frame in his attempts to get to you.

It’s savage. Carnal. Animalistic in the way he trudges through the sea of bodies, the thick scent of mirthroot and tobacco, sweet perfumes and musky colognes, insence that burns strategically around the space—yet still through the thick of it all, he finds you.

Sweet almond. Warm vanilla and brown sugar. Pleasant in every way; captivating, luring him closer and closer with flashes of your face through the crowd. With sounds of your laughter cutting through the musics deep bass. With fluttering red ribbons that vanish before calloused hands can find comfort in the silky indulgences you offer.

Cassian knows he's nearly got you. Especially once you've figured out a way to slip from his view, the onyx curtain of your hair fading in and out; drifting between the fray, camouflaging in your surroundings--just as prey would once they realized they're being hunted. "Excuse me," He mutters, righting drunken bodies that stumble into him without so much as a glance. He's sturdy, stance firm and steps sure when following that tether; the gleaming line that thrums alive as if you've plucked it; strummed at it like those gifted muscians and their carefully tuned instruments.

Maybe its by chance but Cassian boyishly prays that its fate; a divine intervention that allows you to fall right in his arms, too occupied in checking your back to notice the male standing right in front of you until contact ensues. "Got you."

He's won.

He's finally got you in his grasp, eyes bright and lips soft. The slow blink you offer when you peer up at him is utterly feline and entirely too cozy; almost as if you'd purposefully wandered in his crosshairs.

Who cares? Cassian supposed the semantics off it all doesn't matter as long as your hands remain on his arms, the polished shine of your manicure the perfect contrast again the dark shades of his shirt. "Should do that part outside next time. Make it last a little longer." You muse, voice a little slower than usual and it takes little time for the Commander to acknowledge the tinge of liquor on your breath.

“Next time?” He barely notices the plethora of bodies around him, tunnel vision taking over until he’s too ensnared in your trap to acknowledge familiar faces if their features weren’t yours. Soft cheeks, sharp eyes. That inviting mouth and the pressure of the power that emits when you use it. Makes him want—makes him crave and yearn until he feels drunk on your touch and high on your aura.

“I said once you’ve found me you can have me.” It’s a dangerous game. Waving food at a starving animal. Making demands and delaying the inevitable just for the sake of having the desire to do so. His gaze is weighted; calculating, determining just the amount of time it’ll take to lure you away from wandering eyes long enough to get his paws on you. To sink his teeth in supple flesh and leave his mark; letting everyone know that you were his by right—after all, he’d earned it. “What are you waiting for?”

Desperation lives in the grip Cassian has on the back of your neck, leading you through the crowd and urging you towards the left—towards your personal quarters—neatly tucked away from others and yet the wards welcome Cassian without question. “You knew I’d find you.”

“I’d hoped,” You confess, shamelessly leaning into the possessive grip he has on you, the calloused bite of his fingertips applying just the right amount of pressure to the throbbing pulse below your ear. Your composure waivers; takes a second too long to refortify itself before facing the object of your desires. “Figured if you wanted to, you would.”

The door to your room closes behind him, lock twisting in place and he’s not subtle in the way he takes in the new space. Admires the way it’s filled with you. Lit with candles smell like you. The distant bass of the music just down the hall sounds just like your defiant soul. “Oh, I want to.”

“So does everybody else.” Goosebumps loiter Cassian’s skin from the soft drag of your lips against the curve of his ear. “But you, you can keep this a secret, can’t you?” Teeth tug at the lobe, a grin growing at the grip that tightens around your waist in retaliation. “Won’t go running your mouth to anyone who’ll listen after I’ve had my way with you?”

“No,” His knees all but buckle when you press a kiss to his neck, your pleased hum rumbling against his chest. “I won’t say anything.”

“Good boy,” A shiver rakes down his spine, nerves on overdrive by the gentle assault of your nails tickling along the expanse of Cassian’s bare arms, the thick of his muscles caging you in and knowingly or not, his hips press harder into yours at the crooned compliment. “And you found me so quickly,” Your cadence goes breathy, brows furrowing in pure delight when you feel the hard length of his cock straining through his pants. “Surely that deserves a reward?”

“Please.”

“Well, I did ask for you to hunt me.” He’s driven by the pure lust you emit, fueled by your hands tracing over every divot you could reach. “And predators usually eat the prey they catch.” His mouth salivates at the very suggestion, hundreds of memories of that same fantasy flashing behind the back of his kids with each blink.

Mischief burns to life in your eye, a beautifully cruel smirk plastering itself across your face as you use that nifty daemati ability of yours to skid past the crumbling barriers of Cassian’s mind; breaching the poorly guarded threshold.

And much to your delight, the only thing filling the General’s brain was you.

You, bent over the edge of the training ring with your tight training leathers shoved down to your ankles and Cassian’s face stuffed between your thighs. You, sitting on the kitchen counter in your nightgown, it’s silky material tucked between your teeth and a brick wall of an Illyrian absolutely feasting on your pussy. You, a million other ways, in a billion other places twisted into a trillion different positions.

“Eating seems to take up a lot of your thoughts.” A downright desperate groan rips free from Cassian’s throat when lean back on your elbows, knees dropping to the side and a glossy red manicure beams against your skin as a flimsy thong is exposed. “Lucky for you, a good host always provides for her guests and I’ve added something special to the menu tonight.” You don’t even have to ask—he just hoists your hips up to his face, hands cupping the fat of your thighs, fingers digging in the sensitive flesh and you swear you can feel his breath through the fabric.

“Fuck,” The swear drawls out, his honeyed stare fixated on the way you nudge your underthings to the side and present yourself to him with that fucking look in your eye and your teeth biting into your bottom lip. “You're pretty everywhere.”

Every carefully curated response melts into the puddle of arousal that the Night Courts General laps at like a godsdamned dog in heat. One massive arm rests at the soft part of your belly, large hands keeping a firm grip at your thigh to hold you open for him as his tongue eagerly explores the sodden mess of your sex. Each of your moans are rewarded with soft suckles to your clit, the flat of his tongue firmly tracing out the letters of him name over and over until your tugging at his hair—too push him away or shove him in closer, you can’t tell. “Cassian,” you whine, cupping at your breasts, tugging on pebbled nipples and fighting your soul to stay in your body when two thick fingers are eased into you.

So full. So full and thick and you're sure you've been scooped up by the tide and jostled about the sea when his fingers curl, blunt nails rubbing against the gooey spots inside you.

Pleased grunts vibrate against your bundle of nerves, sending sharp shocks of pleasure shooting up your spine; tugging and tugging and tugging at the coil buried in your gut. “That’s it,” Arousal drips from his chin, smearing at his cheeks and coating the soft hairs of his trim beard. “Say my name.”

“Cassian,” Hips buck up into his mouth, all but riding his tongue and fucking yourself on his fingers until the dam breaks and your release gushes on his hands, down his arms, dripping on the floor by his knees but he doesn’t stop for a second. “O-oh fuck!” Experimental scissoring of his fingers forces your eyes to squeeze shut, a blush burning across your cheeks and down your chest as he watches the way you clench around them, cunt sucking him back in for more. “Gods. Cass—Cassian.” You all but sob, brows furrowed and toes curling from the stretch; from the slight burn that bleeds into raw satisfaction.

“You don’t know how many times I’ve thought about you like this,” Thighs shake by his ears, sliding along the line of his shoulders and loosely hooking along the defined taper of his waist as he wastes little time in undoing the confines of dark breeches, separating the material just enough to show off the thick bulge straining against his boxers. “How long I’ve waited to finally get my hands on you.”

Except, you did.

Cassian was a loud thinker; projecting this perverted little fantasies like arrows cutting through the wind and they always hit their target. It was impossible to ignore, just like the leaky erection that’s revealed from thin fabric and tap, tap, tapped against the sloppy mess of your pussy.

“I’ve got an idea,” You barely get the syllables free, heart racing and blood pumping as the Illyrian slots between spread legs like he was made to fit there, melting into your warmth and exploring every inch you allow. “But, I tend not to believe things unless it’s showed to me.”

“I can do that.” He’s so gentle at first it makes you squirm, hips writhing for more already, cunt clenching on the fat tip of his prick as arousal leaks down your asscheeks. “Mother help me, you’re fucking soaked—this all for me?”

You’re already nodding along, muttering pleasant words wrapped in raw sugar and tied with rich satin bows in varying shades of crimson and ruby; deep vermillion and deep mahogany—fluttering symbols of the burly man before you and the victory he claims between supple thighs. “There’s more where it came from if you’d just stop teasing me.”

“My heiress is impatient,” Cassian teases, his voice deep and cock even deeper as inch after inch is fed to you. His gaze tracks your every response, marking the pout of your mouth and the furrow of your brow as he reaches places you hadn’t realized existed within you. Soft mewls accompany the bite of your nails in his biceps, the dark fan of your hair teasing down your shoulders as you watch where he begins and you end. “How rude of me to keep her waiting.”

Your stomach clenches with a burning need, pussy slick with fresh arousal when realizing Cass isn’t really addressing you but more so the mess between your legs.

Inch by inch is fed to you tortuously slow, whines and pleas shushed away by a deceptively comforting voice that promises to give you what you want if you just allow him his fun first. His cock splitting you open makes it easy to comply, lids lazy and arms flexing with the effort it takes to stay raised enough to watch. “Look at you,” Cassian mutters, thumbs spreading slick lips to watch the way your cunt gobbles him up. “Just made for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” It’s not nearly enough friction, the slow rock of his hips as he commits the sight of both of you together to memory. Every line and curve, every stretch mark and mole, scars and swirling tattoos of endless obsidian. The heave of your chest and the wrecked moan that escapes you when the pace picks up; when curious touches become confident caresses. “Cassian—please.”

He’s too far gone for words. Hips smacking against the back of your thighs as every ounce of his weight is put into making sure the shape of his cock carved its way into your womb. The firm way his lips slot over yours mid-thrust is everything; like finding water in the desert. Like sun on a cloudy day. Like being given food after enduring starvation.

His touch is claiming. The taste of him branded on your tongue, the shape of his teeth carved onto your shoulder. Warm palms drag along your curves, fingers leaving their mark on every inch; like those rabid dogs that piss on their territory. Throaty moans spur his possessive streak, fingers rubbing circles against a puffy clit just to chuckle at the involuntary jerk of your thighs and the slutty spit of your cunt.

Over and over and over again you’re brought to the precipice, that coil in your belly stretched taut until Cassian willed it to release. “That’s my girl,” He kisses into your neck, nosing at the slope of your shoulder and all but growls in pleasure at the smell of you and him combined. Together at last. A dream come true. A prophecy falling into place. Fate forged into fruition. “All mine,” He huffs into your hair, rhythm going sloppy and thrusts pressing just a touch deeper. “All of you belongs to me.”

It’s a horrible idea. Feeding this beast. Granting it exactly what it wants now and expecting it to wait patiently for its next meal. To go against its very nature to take and take and take until it had its fill.

Screw it. Consequences be damned when Cassian felt so good. When his want was so palpable with every orgasm he coaxed from you.

All yours; you agree in the way you allow him to suck marks along your collarbone. Every inch of me belongs to you; you comply with every demand he utters—with every rope of cum that paints your walls.

You almost think it’s over until your chin is gently pinched in his grasp, guiding you to face him, to look him in the eye while disheveled and sweaty; cheeks rosy and chest heaving as you caught your breath. “I could start fires with the way I feel for you.”

“I can handle the burn.”

[shortnsweetsposts]

*Bat!reader and Tim getting a message from a mean girl back in Gotham high*

Bat!reader: Huh? Since when did she start texting us?

*Tim shrugged*: I dunno.

*They both open the message and gasped. It was a picture of one of their friends getting brutally rejected by her*

Bat!reader: What a witch!

Tim: And I was the one who told them to do it... I didn't know they were talking about her.

Bat!reader: Dang, I hope Bernard doesn't do the same thing to you.

*Tim started panicking*

Bat!reader: I mean-

*Tim started panicking even harder*

Bat!reader: Tim, calm down. I was totally joking Kind of. Bernard would never do that!

[frost-queen]

Place your bets (Reader!Bridgerton & Bridgerton brothers)

Requested by: anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @alex--awesome--22, @ellie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown , @wildieflower , @meyocoko , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , 

@harleyquinnswifeyfrfr  , @swampything07, @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @markive-m, @erikasurfer

Summary: Colin and you (the youngest Bridgerton) are home alone when there is a note. Signed to come and collect drunk Anthony. Needing to take you along, Colin did not expect to pick up drunk Benedict as well. When his eyes are turned on his drunk brothers are you winning bets against the lords.

Colin quirked his eyebrow up, seeing you making faces whilst thinking. It made him chuckle, pulling you out of concentration. – “What?” – you blurted out with wide eyes. Colin snorted loud at your sudden confusion. Furrowing your brows, you stared a bit dumbfound at your brother. – “Nothing Y/n, you were looking very cute… with your mimic…” – he said gently moving his hand in front of his face.

Understanding what he meant, you stuck your tongue out to him. – “It was a compliment.” – he reassured you. You lifted your chin up, not wanting to hear it. Taking a card, you placed it on top of his. Colin’s eyes widening at the card you had placed. – “I win.”  - you called out.

Colin looked at his own cards to the once’s you had placed down. Trying to see how on earth you won as he thought he had the winning hand. – “How… how did you…” – he wanted to know, curious to your play. Placing the remaining cards upside down on the table, you held your hands up. – “I’m not telling you my secret.” – you made clear.

Colin laid his cards defeated down. – “Another round?” – you asked gathering the cards. – “Uhmm…” – Colin was a bit hesitant as you had been winning the previous three rounds in a row now. Wondering if ever he was going to beat you at cards. A game he always thought he was good at. The door to the drawing room opened as one of the staff entered. He approached Colin holding a tray.

Lowering his arm, he offered the tray with a single note on it to him. Colin took it, turning it over to see from who it was. – “Y/n… why don’t you keep shuffling.” – he said getting up from his chair. You hummed loud, placing the cards right before shuffling. Colin patting you on the head as he went to stand a bit further away from you.

An anonymous note. Hesitant it might be something with gossip or leverage over his family. Finally he opened it, reading the note. – “God.” – he groaned out annoyed. – “What is it brother?” – you questioned, hearing him. Colin sighed loud, rubbing his forehead.

You left the cards alone, getting out of your chair to hop over to him. Taking the note from Colin to have a look yourself. Colin panicked, snatching the note back before you could read the few lines it said. – “It’s from Anthony.” – Colin told you to reassure you. – “Or rather someone who wrote for him…” – he mumbled reading the note once more. – “I…I…” – Colin started with a deep sigh. Kneeling down, he came up to your level.

“I have to pick up Anthony.” – Colin explained to you. – “Where is he?” – you questioned. – “At a… a… Gods this is frustrating.” – Colin expressed out, getting back up. You were a bit confused about your brother’s behaviour. – “Is Anthony hurt?” – you panicked, lip already quivering at the thought of your brother hurt. Colin turned around, seeing your eyes swell up with tears.

“No, Y/n no, no he is alright.” – Colin reassured you, kneeling back in front of you. He brushed some tears away that found an escape down your cheek. – “He’s at a bar.” – Colin told you. – “What’s a bar?” – you asked frowning a bit. Colin got back up, looking around the empty drawing room. – “It is unfortunate…” – he said to himself.

Sighing deep, he took your hand, leading you out of the drawing room. – “Are we going somewhere?” – you asked curiously. Colin made eye contact with one of the staff, letting them know to fetch your coat. – “Yes, to get Anthony.” – he spoke as your coat arrived. He took it from the man, laying it over your shoulders to tie in the front with a little knot. – “At this bar?” – you replied balancing on your feet.

“Yes.” – Colin answered with a deep sigh. – “Let’s just hope we are back home before mama and the others return home from their trip to Lady Danbury.” – Colin said out loud, taking your hand. The doorman opened the door for Colin, not saying a word. It was not his place. You jumped down the last few steps before running up to the carriage.

Gasping in wonder as you finally get to ride the carriage. The footman opened the door for you. Colin picked you up, holding you under your armpits to set you in the carriage. Joining you shortly after. The door got shut as you sat with a big silly smile on your face. The carriage got in motion as the sudden budging startled you.

A bit frightened, you got up, nearly falling across against your brother as he caught you. You sat down beside him, crawling against his arm to feel saver.

“When we get there Y/n, I need you to listen very carefully to me.” – Colin instructed. You nodded your head, rubbing it up against his arm. – “It isn’t a place for girls… specially little girls where we are going.” – he explained making you swallow nervously. – “Just… stay close to me.” – Colin asked of you. The carriage came to a stop as the footman got off. Opening the door for you both.

Colin held your hand tight, under no circumstance wanting to lose you at a bar. Hesitantly he looked down at you, wondering if he should even bring you inside. Perhaps it was better if you waited in the carriage? But then he had no sight of you. What if you got out of anyone else entered the carriage.

Not wanting to think about it, he shook his head. With big paces, he entered the bar in search for Anthony. A drunk Anthony. The air felt thick with smoke and smelled disgusted to you. Colin stepped into the room full of men sitting at round tables.

“Colin!” – His eyes widened, seeing Benedict jump up from his seat, arms up. – “Gods.” – Colin sighed out. Benedict nearly tripped trying to get away from the table to go to his younger brother. Benedict ran up to Colin smelling like a liquor bar. Benedict pressed his hands against Colin’s cheeks, giving him a big kiss. Colin a bit startled as Benedict squashed his cheeks closer together.

You saw your brother Anthony sitting at the same table, Benedict came from. Overjoyed to see your brother, unaware of the surroundings, you ran up to him. – “Anthony.” – you said happily. Anhtony could barely lift his head up. Blinking overdramatically to clear his vision. – “This… this tiny human looks like my sister.” – he chuckled out, looking at the man across from him.

“Why are you being silly Anthony.” – you responded unaware of his drunk behaviour. – “You even sound like her.” – he said squeezing your cheeks together to make sure you were real. – “Are you my sister tiny human?” – he asked you, his voice drowsy. – “Yes.” – you exclaimed with laughter.

Anthony breathed out a laugh, trying to clear his vision at you. He got up from his chair picking you up with a groan. He presented you to the other gentlemen at the bar. – “This tiny human is my sister!” – he proclaimed proudly, holding you up in the air. You waved shyly at the men. – “Anthony!” – Colin shouted loud. – “Put her down before you drop her!” – Colin made clear trying to stop drunk Benedict being so clingy.

Anthony set you down, nearly falling over you. Colin rushed over to him, grabbing him by the shoulder. – “Why?” – he asked, wanting to know why his brother got drunk at an hour like this. Anthony responded by hiccupping loud in Colin’s face. Colin closed his eyes disgusted, trying not to think too much of it. – “Honestly Anthony.” – Colin groaned out annoyed pulling at his arm.

Anthony had a difficult time to keep his balance. Colin grabbed Benedict by his arm as well, dragging him along. – “Y/n Come on!” – Colin called out, knowing he couldn’t hold your hand now. You moved to go after your brother till your eyes fell on a card game on the table you passed.

You looked at the men’s game as they quirked they eyebrow up at you. A man was about to take out his card as you stopped him. – “That is a losing card.” – you told him. The man looked confused at you. – “If you lay that card, you ultimately lose the game.” – you explained.

You moved closer to him to look at the other cards in his hand. Biting a bit on your lip thoughtfully, you watched his hand. – “Take this one. It won’t make you win, but it keeps you in the game to have another opportunity later with a better card.” – you finished. The lord took out the card you pointed out, placing it down.

Immediately two of his opponents threw their cards in defeat on the table. – “Now I’ll be damned.” – the lord said in disbelieve. – “You know your cards little lady.” – he told you. – “You only won this round because of her!” – one of the losing lords said. The lord you helped shushed him hard. – “You seem to know the game well little lady.” – he stated, seeing you nod.

He offered you a seat as you sat down. The cards got divided as you waited for your deck. A lord at the round wanted to light up a cigar as lord Willson took the cigar from him. Throwing it away. – “Hey!” – Sir Bronson called out. – “No smoking around the girl!” – Lord Willson made clear with a glare. The cards got played out as the first round started. Within a few minutes you won the first round. – “Beginners luck!” – Sir Bronson said with a puff.

You set your hands on the table, sitting on your knees on the chair to reach the table better. – “Want to bet?” – you asked him, staring him dead in the eye. Lord Willson snorted loud. Sir Bronson laughed loud. You stuck your tongue out to him in anger. – “Don’t disrespect the little lady, Bronson.” – Lord Willson said, giving you a wink. – “Bet!” – you called out wanting him to bet with you. Lord Willson being your saviour took out his satchel, revealing a few coins of him on the table.

“I’ll bet.” – he said. Lord Mortison joined as well. Now Sir Bronson was obliged to join. More gentleman were intrigued with the bet, joining your table. Several lords and sir’s were surrounding your table. Watching the sports. – “My money is on the little Bridgerton!” – one of them said. – “Mine on Bronson, this kid is going down.” – another man said.

Lord Willson got up. – “Bet’s on Little Bridgerton here!” – he shouted accepting money from those bidding on you. Lord Mortison calling the bets for Sir Bronson. The game started as everyone watched with eagerness at the game of cards.

Outside was Colin struggling to get both his brothers in the carriage. Benedict had let himself fall forwards onto the seats. His legs still sticking out. Annoyed Colin grabbed his foot, pushing him inside. Not caring how he would land. – “Get in!” – Colin grunted out, shoving his foot in. Benedict rolled down the seat, landing on his bottom in the middle, foot up. Colin then shoved Anthony in it.

Anthony set his hand down on Benedict’s stomach who grunted at the sudden pressure. Anthony stumbled over Benedict, mumbling an apology. Colin had already undone himself of his jacket, having rolled his sleeves up for the hard labour of getting his drunk brothers in the carriage. Anthony and Benedict struggled to get up and sit down. – “Alright Y/n let’s go.” – Colin said, looking behind him.

His eyes widening when he didn’t see you. – “Yn?” – he panicked. Anthony and Benedict in the carriage sat beside each other. Benedict’s head resting against the frame as he snored softly. Anthony resting against his arm, trying to sober up. – “Y/n!” – Colin shouted startling his brothers in the carriage. – “Can you keep it down.” – Benedict let out to him annoyed.

Colin ignored him, rushing back inside. Worrying any of the drunk gentlemen were intimidating you. Entering the room once more, he stood perplex by the sight. A group of drunk lords going wild at how the game was going. Sir Bronson and you playing cards against each other. Lord Willson enjoying himself to see Sir Bronson’s ass get kicked by a little girl. – “Y/n?” – Colin panted out, breaking out a sweat.

You placed a card down, taking the win as the crowd went wild with cheering. Lord Willson picked you up, setting you on his shoulder for a victory round. Sir Bronson thumping his head mournful on the table. – “Y/n!” – Colin shouted. Everyone stopped, staring at Colin. Colin rushed over to you, taking you from Lord Willson. – “Next time again?” – you asked Lord Willson with a cheeky smile. – “You bet little Bridgerton.” – he answered with a laugh. Colin shook his head, not wanting it to happen anymore.

“We’re leaving Y/n!” – Colin said firmly, pulling at your hand. Lord Willson whistled loud, coming after you. – “Your winnings little Bridgerton.” – he said kneeling before you. You accepted the patch of coins. Colin nearly had a heart attack. He left the bar in a hurry with you, setting you in the carriage with your drunk brothers. – “Why is Y/n here?” – Anthony asked, sobering up a bit. – “Oh shut up.” – Colin bit at him annoyed.

Once at home, you ran into the drawing room. Anthony already having sobered up a bit. – “Look at what I won!” – you ran up to Benedict who laid sloppy in the sofa to sober up. – “Oh.” – he said surprised, his mind still spinning. – “That was really fun!” – you exclaimed out of breath. – “I want to go to bars more.” – you told your brothers. – “No!” – Anthony and Colin both shouted loud. 

Your lip started quivering once they had raised their voices at you. Colin nudged Anthony hard to make her sad. – “You brought her to a bar.” – Anthony responded, gesturing at the results of it. – “Well you shouldn’t have gotten yourself drunk!” – Colin said back putting the blame back on him. – “We can play cards here.” – Benedict let out still feeling like a wreck, but more compatible.

“We can?” – you gasped out. – “With betting?” – you looked curiously at your brothers. Anthony and Colin sharing a concerned look. – “Maybe.” – Colin answered giving you a bit hope. Smiling wide, you crawled in the sofa with Benedict, leaning with your elbows on his chest to show him all the coins you had won.  

------------------------------------------------

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

[siriuslystyle1989]

Illicit Affairs

Eris Vanserra x Rhys!sister reader

warnings: Angst, Rhys being annoying :(

masterlist

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"We're all going to Rita's tonight, if you want to join." Mor spoke to her cousin, motioning to the inner circle.

"I would love to, but I'm visiting a friend tonight." Y/n replied her voice laced with false apology that was so convincing it even surprised herself.

"I swear you're always visiting someone Y/n" Cassian spoke, chewing loudly on his toast as Nesta scowled at her mate.

He leant forward and smirked at her knowingly.

"Ew stop." Y/n grimaced "It's nothing like that just a few friends I've got back in contact with recently."

"Hmmmm." Cassian was not convinced.

"Anyway, I've got to go, I'll see you all in a few days."

And with that, Y/n left. Her leather boots clicking on the cobblestone streets as she winnowed away.

............................................................................................................................

The girl arrived in front of the large doors of the forest house, breathing in a sigh of relief at the comforting atmosphere.

She raised her hand to knock but it met nothing as the door swung open to reveal her mate.

Eris Vanserra.

The redheaded male looked down at her with a smirk and spoke, voice smooth and sultry.

"Hello my fawn."

Y/n moved towards Eris, swinging her arms around his middle, snuggling her face into his chest as he kissed her hair.

"I missed you." She murmured, trying to pull him impossibly closer to her.

Eris let out a low chuckle, as he moved them further into the house.

Falling down onto the sofa, Eris dragged Y/n on top of him, resting her head on his chest snuggling down.

Kissing the top of her head, Eris stroked her hair seemingly in a comfortable bliss.

"Eris." Y/n spoke up, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Yes my love?" He replied, concern lacing his tone.

"I'm afraid my family have become... suspicious of me." She bit her lip and looked up at him with worry.

Eris sighed and continued stroking her hair.

"Whatever you want to do, I will back you. If you want to tell them, tell them, if you don't, don't. The decision is yours sweetheart." He stated.

"I just- I just don't know how much longer I can keep this from them all, especially Rhys." Y/n felt her eyes well up with tears.

Eris' heart broke at the sight as he pulled his mate closer to him, kissing her tears away.

"So there's your answer baby, tell them."

Y/n nodded, anxious thoughts consuming her mind as her head fell into the crook of Eris' neck.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Leaving Eris was always hard but the pair had to carry on as normal. Eris not wanting his father to know about Y/n and Y/n not particularly wanting her family to know about Eris, it was something they had to get used to.

They found ways of communicating: sending emotions through the bond, meeting up whenever they could, writing letters to each other.

This is how Y/n found herself on a Tuesday morning, reading through the copious amounts of love letters her mate had sent, over a cup of morning tea.

Unfortunately this was short lived as a harsh knock was heard on her door, followed by the sound of it opening.

"It's just me." Her brother's voice bounded off the walls before she even had time to consider hiding the letters.

"Hi Rhys."

"Hey Y/n/n" He spoke with a smile, pulling the girl into a hug.

"I just came to check up on you, I feel like I haven't seen you in-" His words paused and Y/n felt her heart drop into oblivion.

"Who are all these letters from?"

"Rhys, they're- they're private!" She tried to grab the letters as he picked one up.

Clear as day.

'from your mate, Eris.'

"What the fuck Y/n."

"Rhys just- just let me explain- please" She attempted to reason with her brother as anger flamed his eyes.

"What is there to explain Y/n! After what he did to Mor..." He spat, his face laced with disgust.

"You never tried to hear his side of the story Rhysand. Maybe he's not as bad as you think he is-" Y/n spoke, trying to get her brother to look her in the eye.

"Who are you. Genuinely I don't even know you." Rhys muttered looking down to the floor, shaking his head and pulling at his hair.

"Rhys- please- just listen-"

"It's him or us." He finally looked her in the eye.

"W- what?" Y/n replied, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks.

"It's him or us. Your family or him. Your title or him."

"Rhys, don't make me choose you can't-"

"Oh I can." Rhysand replied, eyes wild with anger.

Y/n looked down, eyes scanning the letters on the table. She couldn't begin to imagine a life without Eris.

"Him."

Shock fell to Rhysand's features

"You are no sister of mine." He muttered as he barged out of her home, leaving the door swinging wide open.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Eris lay his head back on the sofa, one of his hounds making its way up to put its head on his lap.

KNOCK

The sound made the hound jump up and start whining. Eris looked down concerned and began making his way to the door.

As it opened with a creak, Eris was met with the tear stained face of his mate.

"Y/n/n, my love what happened."

"Rhys knows, he saw the letters." She spoke in between sobs falling into his arms.

"Shhhh" Eris cooed, stroking her back to calm the girl down "Its okay sweetheart, everything will be just fine."

They moved into the house, Y/n letting out a wet laugh as Eris' hounds fussed over her.

"Okay fawn." Eris spoke, sitting her on his lap. "Tell me what happened."

"Rhys came into my house, and saw the letters." Y/n shakily begun as her mate nodded, holding her hand coaxing her to go on.

"And he told me I had to choose you or my family. And when I said I'd choose you, he told me- he told me I was no sister of his." At this she let out a small sob and turned to look Eris in the eye.

"You chose me?" he spoke up.

"Of course I chose you." Y/n laughed through a sob.

"Y/n. I promise this will sort itself out, Rhysand will come around. You're his sister, he just needs time to process it." He kissed her face gently, pulling her closer.

"I love you." She sighed into him, feeling the most at ease she had all day.

"I love you too, whatever happens I swear to you, I'll always be here."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: I am SO sorry for my absence school is killing me. Anyway SUE ME im obsessed with Eris

[ericshoney]

Driskill Hotel ~ Brothers!Sturniolo Triplets

Summary: You join your brothers in their trip with Sam and Colby

Warnings: swearing, ghost hunting, nicknames, protective!triplets, targeting, spirits, crying, slight angst, fluff

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

You were tagging along with Nick, Matt and Chris with their trip to Texas to collab with Sam and Colby at the Driskill hotel. You've watched Sam and Colby for years now so your brothers just had to bring you along.

When you arrived and got the introductions out of the way, the guys started to film. You looked around taking in the place.

"What's up guys, today we have some special guests, you've been requesting they join for a video for months!" Colby began.

"It's the Sturniolo triplets and their sister, Y/n!" Sam cheered.

The guys cheered and clapped as you giggled. Sam and Colby started asking different questions and how much you all believed.

"I'd say nine." You answered.

"I'm an eight." Matt said.

"Ten, even though nothing has happened to me for it to be a ten." Nick said.

"I'd say seven." Chris said.

The guys nodded as you all started to explore with the guides for a while, taking in the whole hotel and listening to their stories and experiences. It took a few hours and you laughed at the many jokes the guys made. Nick, Matt and Chris kept an eye on you at all times, making sure you were okay.

"Now it's investigation time!" Colby cheered once you went through the tour and the guides left you.

"First off, let's go talk to Samantha." Sam said.

You followed the guys to the old painting of the young girl. You looked at it seeing it was turning green and remembered the guide said it was the only one turning green out of the many paintings in the whole hotel.

"Now we're all going to offer a piece of candy to Samantha, but one of us is going to say Ruth." Colby instructed.

It was chosen that Matt would call on Ruth whilst the rest of you called on Samantha. You all placed the candy in front of the painting and then went to the stairs where Samantha died.

"You feeling okay, bub?" Chris asked you quietly.

"Yeah, just taking it all in." You answered.

He nodded, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as Sam set up the flashlights on the stairs. You then saw something out of the corner of your eye, making you look back, which caught your brothers' attention.

"What?" They all called at the same time, shocking Sam and Colby.

"I...I swear I saw something go by." You answered.

"Can we just talk about how you all said that at the exact same time!" Colby exclaimed, making you all laugh.

"What did you see?" Matt asked.

"It was a shadow....but it didn't look tall." You replied.

"Samantha." Sam said.

Just then, one of the flashlights went off, making you all gasp. Chris who was still next to you, pulled you closer to his side. You watched as the guys asked various questions, getting a few answers. You then placed your hands in the pockets of your sweats and gasped.

"Oh my fucking God." You called out.

"What!" Nick shouted.

"I have a piece of candy in my pocket." You responded, holding some of the candy that Sam had in his backpack.

"You only took one piece and offered it to Samantha." Chris mentioned, making you nod.

"Yeah you saw me and it's on camera. How did this get here?" You asked.

"Let's go check and see how many pieces are left at the painting." Sam suggested.

You all nodded and headed back to the painting. You saw there was five pieces, where there should have been six.

"The piece I left is gone." You said.

"That's fucking crazy." Nick said.

You all took a short break, trying to gather some thoughts, before heading to the Maximillian room. The one Empress Carlota was supposed to be in. As soon as you walked in, you started getting a headache and felt dizzy. Nick, who was behind you, noticed you grab your head.

"Hey kid, you okay?" He asked, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"I just started feeling really dizzy and got a headache." You answered.

"First Samantha and now here, you think it's Carlota?" Matt asked.

"You seem to be drawing them in." Sam mentioned.

You took a deep breath and watched them set some equipment up. You then had a crazy idea after seeing them set the EMF rope up.

"What if I do the estes method in here?" You suggested.

"No!" Nick, Matt and Chris all shouted at the same time.

"You said you felt dizzy, we're not having our sixteen year old sister get attached to a spirit!" Nick added.

"We don't want to cause any family drama, but it could be a good idea. You guys can try it later in room 525, but Y/n might get something more since she's a girl." Colby replied.

After a bit of convincing, you sat on the floor in the middle of the EMF rope, blindfolded and with the headphones on. You sat for a few minutes with nothing.

"I don't know why I feel so nervous." Chris said, laughing to try and cover his fear.

"She's your sister, it seems more scary when it's someone you love." Sam responded.

Suddenly, you started saying some stuff. It was a few random words at first, the guys tried to piece together, but then you said something that scared them.

"Her."

"Her? As in Y/n?" Colby asked.

"Yes."

"What about her?" Nick asked.

"Want."

"You can't have our sister." Chris said.

"Are we talking with Carlota?" Sam questioned.

"Threat."

"Is Y/n a threat?" Matt asked.

You didn't say anything for a minute, giving the guys a chance to think and ask some more questions. But they then noticed you weren't responding and your breathing started picking up.

"Get her out!" Matt shouted.

Colby rushed over and tapped your shoulder gently, helping you remove the headphones. You threw the blindfold off and looked at the guys, your breathing still faster than normal and tears in your eyes.

"Hey, hey your okay. We're here." Nick said, hugging you tightly.

Sam placed the camera down, knowing you needed to stop for a bit. Matt rubbed your back as you clung to Nick, Chris standing besides him, all their faces showed worry. None of them said anything as you calmed down.

When you had calmed down, your breathing back to normal, you all went and sat in the lobby, feeling safer in that area.

"Can you remember anything you said?" Matt asked you.

"A few words like her and want, but it was like someone was squeezing my head tightly. It was static and my body started feeling light till Colby touched my shoulder." You answered.

"Did....Did you get it on camera?" You then asked.

"A bit, but we can cut it out." Sam answered.

"If that's okay." You replied, making him nod.

"Of course, whatever makes you feel more comfortable." Colby replied.

You gave them a small smile and knew that Nick, Matt and Chris would be watching you like a hawk for the rest of the investigation.

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

Taglist

@mattsfavbigtitties @lgbtq-girl @onelesslonelygirlbieber6 @riowritesitall

[ennawrite]

my obsession is not so much with ACOTAR itself but with the potential of what ACOTAR could be.