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#DAPHNE JUST LOOKS AWAY
confusedhostage · 2 months
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Dev art of Scooby Doo gang
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from their newsletter - thought others might want to see it if unsubscribed. (I find the matchups funny) - Art by Abby Howard of Black Tabby Games.
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sassmill · 9 months
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“If a lot of men get killed at one go, does it make the killing of one man less of a crime? I don’t know, Andy, I don’t know. I’m only twenty and they say today the world is ours, but Pa was twenty once and felt the world was his, and long, long ago Mad was twenty too, laughing at applauding audiences, smiling from picture postcards, and when I am as old as she is nothing will have changed…”
Daphne du Maurier, Rule Britannia (1972)
#think about the context of this woman writing this right#she was born in 1907#so by the time she was 20 she had lived through one world war with the next right on the horizon#as well as at this point witnessing the effects of so many other 20th century conflicts#she’s 65 at this point and this is what she sees ahead for future generations#which I’ve no doubt others saw coming as well but just like everyone for USUK in the book is acting#I’m sure plenty read this and thought but that could never happen not now not here not to us#but look where we are today#look at the genocide being enacted in Palestine#I want people to read this book in 2024 and think hard about it#because the events of the book are happening to white people in England right#I’m not at all trying to say she described anything on the level of the real world atrocities currently happening#but the slowly building anxiety of ‘but what could really happen they won’t do that’#then overnight all these new restrictions and retaliation#phones cut power cut water cut travel ban#just because it’s happening to people far away from your life#doesn’t mean it could never happen#you wouldn’t see it coming or think it was all that bad until suddenly it was too late#obviously I am reaching to apply this book to today but I think it could make certain people reexamine their mindset#daphne du maurier#rule britannia#quote#this book is making me think so much about imperialism and occupation and military states and civilian cruelty#through such an interesting lens considering what I know of Daphne du mauriers life up to the point she wrote this#this was her last novel#and it’s so different from her other novels#like this to me is her equivalent of a Connecticut Yankee in king Arthur’s court#except it’s just the ending where everything becomes terrible so fast
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writingsbychlo · 9 months
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BUY ME PRESENTS | draco malfoy
summary; draco loves you, and you love him. he just needs a little push to make things official. OR, draco malfoy fighting for his life when he realises just how much everyone wants his girl.
word count; 8928
notes; this is based on christmas eve, but I'm posted a couple days later! this fic puts us half way through our slytherin boy holidays! I'm not sure how the one I expected to be the shortest became the longest one so far. like, seriously, I know I keep saying this but wtf? why can't I write a short fic?
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Dinner had already been served by the time you made it to the Grand Hall, the smells of roasted meats and seasoned potatoes filling the air, your mouth watering as you navigated between the throngs of people. Your seat had been saved, of course. A spot on the bench between Draco and Daphne, and as you neared, your friends noticed, smiles rising and waves in your direction. 
Sinking into your seat, you pressed a kiss to the cheek of the blond boy beside you, his face tipping up to receive it and lips twisting into a smile, attention moving to you as you sat. 
“Good day?”
“Better now that it’s over.” You smiled, a chuckle falling from him, and his hand came to rest upon your thigh, squeezing comfortingly while you helped yourself to a plate of whatever food was left. “What are we talking about, what did I miss?”
“Not much. Just Theo telling us all about Christmas in Italy.” Mattheo rolled his eyes, as though you all hadn't heard this exact same speech since that very first Christmas you’d become friends. Most of the group seemed to have simply tuned it out, laughing and nodding at the correct times as they whispered their own conversations. 
A swipe of a thumb over your thigh as you finished filling your plate with food, and you shifted your attention to Draco. “So, what are your Christmas plans, Dray?”
Shuffling a little bit closer now that your plate was full, his arm moved to lay across your shoulders instead, letting you snuggle up into his side. “Oh, you know, the usual.” 
He smiled, and your world seemed to get a little bit brighter, his lips brushing your hairline as he left a barely-present kiss there. 
“Typical Malfoy-family Christmas. I get to do the tour with my parents, visiting every other rich-arsehole couple they know. Christmas Eve party. The pleasure of my father’s annual ‘you’re growing up now, son, it’s time to get serious about the world’ over the dinner table on Christmas Day. Open some presents I don’t want, on a schedule I don’t like.” He sighed, clearly used to it by now, but it didn’t make it sound any less awful.
“Well,” You smile, nudging him playfully with your elbow. “Maybe we could write to one another, or even get a little visit in?” 
The hope in your voice was evident, and Pansy gave you an encouraging smile across the table. You’d been meaning to ask Draco this question for weeks now, and your last chance had been fast approaching. Since the summer, you and Draco had been hooking up. It was no secret among your friends, or even the students; your affections for one another were hardly contained, but it wasn't official. 
You wanted the labels, the security, and the safety of knowing that he was yours and you were his, and nobody else could come between you. You wanted to be introduced to his parents, be his date at events, to have him be proud to call you his girl. But Draco had been hesitant, avoiding every conversation that might inch into the ‘so, what are we?’ territory, keeping a safe distance from any kind of real commitment. 
It wasn’t enough for you anymore, not by a long shot, but trying to talk to Draco about it only ended up with him shutting it down, or skilfully diverting the conversation and you were growing tired of his games. 
Draco only made a vague noise, neither an agreement nor disagreement, and looked away from you as he picked up his drink to take a sip. “I don’t know… maybe. I can get pretty busy over the holidays, I’d hate to let you down.”
Another skill of his, making it seem like cancelling or delaying or not doing something at all was your idea. He was clearly hoping you’d brush it off, and tell him not to worry about it, but instead, you kept quiet. Not giving him the satisfaction of any easy win, this time. 
Pansy caught your eye across the table, shaking her head disapprovingly, and shooting a glare at an oblivious Draco. She had been your confidant these last few months, every update and development in your situationship, she’d been informed of. Every decision, she’d been a part of. She was practically as invested as you were, at this point, and she certainly did not approve of his nonchalant behaviour either. 
“Speaking of parties,” Mattheo cut Theo off, clearly having had enough of the annual rehashing of ‘that one Christmas when Theo was eight’ for today, and changing the subject, “Who’s got their dates sorted for the Malfoy Christmas Eve Ball, and who’s daring to go solo and have Narcissa set them up like a matchmaker all night long?”
Chuckles rang out among the group, and Pansy smiled, leaning into Blaise’s side with a love-struck grin. “I think we’re safe this year.”
“I’m going solo, but, I did tell Aunty Cissa that I have my eye on a girl in one of my classes, and I’m seeing how it plays out. So, she’s not setting me up anytime soon, since she believes I’m already onto someone.” Enzo smirked, and Blaise congratulated him for his clever tactics. 
You smirked through your mouthful of food, listening to Mattheo explain his complex excuse, to Reggie mournfully spill the story of how he’s already been set up by his parents witha ‘potential bride to meet’, and how he hopes she doesn’t show up. You laugh with the others as Tom simply raises an eyebrow, knowing that even Narcissa doesn’t attempt to set him up anymore, lest he scare away any more of her friends’ daughters. Theo, ever the player he is, is looking forward to dancing with every single lady he can find, and taking his pick at the end of the night.
“I suppose nobody needs to ask Draco who his date will be.” Mattheo grins, wiggling his brows at the pair of you as you smile, leaning a little further into the man at your side. 
“Hey, who knows?” He chortles, and your eyes narrow a little, “I’ve had plenty of offers. I haven’t made up my mind yet.”
“Oooh.” Enzo’s eyes went wide, the other boys joining in, and Pansy fixed him with a glare. Daphne leaned around you with her jaw dropped at his statement, and you sat up from his embrace, lips pressed flat and a brow raised. 
The boys snickered, ‘he’s in shit’ and ‘someone’s in the doghouse’, but he lived for the spotlight, a drama queen at heart, and he smirked down at you. 
“Oh, c’mon. Don’t look at me like that, babe.” The playful nickname was one he only ever used when joking around. When he was sincere, he was much more romantic; darling, sweetheart, beautiful. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Hi mum, hello father, meet the girl I’m skipping class to shag! Thanks for paying my tuition!’, I don’t think so.”
The boys all laughed, Daphne scoffed in sync with her sister behind you, and Pansy looked like she’d lunge across the table at any moment, if it wasn’t for her chastising Blaise for laughing, instead. ‘You and Draco can share that couch you’ll both be sleeping on tonight’, she’d said. ‘See how funny you think it is then’.
The words stung as he spoke them, dismantling your relationship down to the bare minimum; to sex and physical connection and nothing else. Like the nights spent talking until the sun came up were nothing, the times you’d held him while he cried, or washed him in the bath when he was so exhausted he could barely keep his eyes open. Like he didn’t rub your stomach for hours every month when you got cramps, or had a stash of your favourite snacks in his bedside table for whenever you came over. 
You knew that Draco Malfoy lived you, just as much as you loved him. It was evident in everything he did, every kiss and every word. But, he needed a little push.
“I suppose you’re right,” You sigh lightly, giggling along with the laughing boys around the table. “I’m not so sure Lucius wouldn't burst a blood vessel then and there.”
“Exactly.” Draco hummed, and you glanced back to Pansy. She was shocked, only for a second, before taking in the subtle signs of mischief on your face. Her own smirk stretched out in return, and her gaze flickered once to Draco, before back to you. 
A new game was afoot, and Draco wasn’t going to stand a chance.
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Slipping your coat from your shoulders, the annual Malfoy Christmas Eve Ball was well underway. Your parents had disappeared into the crowds before you’d even stepped out of the carriage, uncaring of where you were as long as you weren’t causing trouble. They were here to mingle with the other importants, and you were just here to learn the ropes of proper socialising.
The garment was taken from you, your small bag clutched in hand as a ticket was given to you for it, and you brushed down the front of your dress delicately. Pearls moved under your touch, beading along the bodice flat and perfected, and you felt your confidence rise as you looked at yourself once more in the reflection of a dark window. Adjusting the small lace gloves on each hand, you took a step towards the dining room. 
Elegant music was playing from a live band up on a stage, the room was decorated this year to look like a winter escape. Pale and frosty, like a palace of ice, twinkling lights and glittering decor, crisp white tablecloths and ice sculptures. A layer of goosebumps travelled along your skin at the sight of it all, despite the warming charms that took place for the guests. 
Scanning the room, you quickly found your table. The designated kids table, despite you all being legal adults and far beyond such status. You’d all be the babies of the ball until the new generation emerged, no doubt. Moving through the bodies and crowds of people politely, Theo was the first to glance up and spot you, his mouth falling open, and a rush of confidence took over as he raised two fingers to his lips and whistled. 
The sound caught the attention of the others’ chatter fading to quiet as they all turned to look for the object of his cat-calling, Enzo’s eyes widened, Pansy cheered loudly, and even Mattheo looked momentarily speechless. You’d had the same reaction when you’d seen yourself in the dress too, your stylist had truly outdone herself for this one. 
You looked flawless, and you looked expensive, and utterly elegant. Doing a little spin as you approached, a smile broke free on your lips as you stopped before the chair with your name card before it. 
“Merlin, babe,” Pansy started, drawing your attention straight her her, “You’ve got every eye on you tonight. If I was single, I’d be all over you.” 
She winked when you laughed, and Blaise rolled his eyes but smiled, leaning in to kiss her cheek affectionately. 
“Pretty necklace,” She commented, and your fingers rose to the pretty string of pearls and diamonds that you had. 
“It was a gift,” You simply hummed, tugging at your gloves. Glancing at the others, you gave each a polite smile, eyes lingering on Draco as he stared. In any other style, this dress would be scandalous for an event like this. A low neckline, spaghetti straps, no sleeves. Tight and fitted to every curve of your body, and yet the classic designs and vintage nature elevated it to the kind of class Audrey Hepburn would be proud of. 
He looked just as good, a dark suit, a fresh white shirt, a champagne-coloured tie that made the colour of his eyes and his hair stand out and your mouth dried out a little. Silver rings adorned his fingers, the Malfoy signet standing out, clenched so tightly around his whiskey glass that his knuckles were almost white. 
You’d worn soft, golden makeup effects today, a dusting of glitter along your cheekbones and eyelids, a shade of pink on your cheeks and lips that you knew was his weakness. 
“Someone really wanted your attention with that, huh?” Your best friend teased, and your eyes snapped away from Draco, back to her. 
“I suppose so,” You muse, hand coming up to touch one of the beads on your ear, “Since they also got me this lovely pair of matching earrings.”
Pansy made a dramatic show of admiring them, and Blaise gave a funny look, glancing at the jewellery, and then back at Draco, who was frowning. Before you could reach for your chair after placing your clutch down, Enzo was shooting to his feet from beside you, tugging out the chair for you. 
Draco scoffed as you gave him a thank you, settling into your seat, and he glared at the man beside you. Enzo didn’t flinch, however, smirking at Draco as he spoke;
“What? It’s called being a gentleman, cousin.”
Crossing your leg delicately, you’d hardly even removed your gloves, before a tray was coming down by your side, and a young waiter with a dazzling smile was looking right at you. 
“Champagne, ma’am?” Not a planned pawn in your game, but a welcome addition, you smiled sweetly in return. 
“Oh, I’d love some. Thank you.” Taking the single glass by the stem, you lifted it from the tray and the man’s smile stretched wider as you sipped the bubbly, holding his eye. 
“Of course, miss. If you need anything, anything at all, I’ll be at the bar, happy to serve.” His flirting was heavy enough that normally you’d want to roll your eyes, but tonight, you suppressed that urge, playing into it as you bat your lashes. 
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. Thank you.”
He took the dismissal, staring appreciatively as he walked away, another look over his shoulder to you as you watched him go. 
“Stop eye-fucking the help.” Draco snapped, and your focus moved to him slowly, just to find his icy glare on you. He didn’t scare you, though, all that mean bravado, but you knew what was underneath. 
“I was doing no such thing.” You tut, placing down your drink. “Don’t be jealous, Dray. You look even better in that suit. If you want compliments, just ask. No need to be mean.”
He seemed rather placated by this, his ego settling down, even if the others did laugh at him.
The conversation seemed to continue around you as you settled in, avoiding Draco’s heated stare and sipping at your champagne. The rush of warming alcohol through your veins settled every dancing nerve, and gave you the calm confidence to do what you had planned. Sitting forwards, just enough, you angled your body so that Draco might have the perfect view over your cleavage as you feigned interest in the chatter around you. 
He took the bait, his gaze falling right where you wanted it, the gems of your necklace dangling just over the swell of your breasts, and he licked his lower lip, pulling it between his teeth.
Raising your hands and catching the swinging gem, you toyed with it carefully, letting it run over your fingers. Time melted away as Draco’s gaze flicked between your nimble touch, your lips, and your chest, shuffling in his seat every so often, and gulping at the bubbly in his glass. 
He was on his third refill by the time food started to be taken around, and you took pity on him momentarily, sitting back in your chair and angling away from him, ready to receive your first course. 
As the starters came around, you turned to thank your waiter, surprised to see it was the same man from the bar who had brought you your champagne. You’d given him little thought since he’d walked away, and you’d never spotted him again, but perhaps that was exactly why he was delivering your food now, as he beamed at you and set down the plate. 
Men did love a little attention, after all. 
Reaching for the bottle of champagne cooling in the centre of the table, the waiter never looked away from you as he refilled your glass without being asked. Draco finally seemed to notice as he finished adjusting his napkin, gaze narrowing on the man serving you. “You’ve got to be kidding me…” He muttered.
You pretended to take no notice, smiling at the man and waving your fingers flirtily as he walked away.
“I’m going to get another drink at the bar,” He announced, leaving without his glass and without asking if anyone else wanted one. You knew where he was truly going, if the lock of his jaw and the stamp in his step were any indication. You doubted you’d be seeing that waiter again.
As you poked at your food, Pansy excused herself too, only a few bites into her meal before she disappeared with a wicked grin and no explanation to anyone. Enzo just chuckled beside you, glancing around the room like he was watching all the cogs of a machine in motion, before turning his gaze on you. “You do look lovely tonight, do you know that?”
“Of course I do. I spent days on end trying on dress after dress to find this.” You sighed, admiring the gorgeous piece of art on your body as you set your cutlery down. 
“And is it serving the purpose you need it to?” He teased, voice knowing, and you nodded. Flicking your gaze over the patrons and guests in the room, you searched for Draco, finding him talking politely to one of his mother’s friends at the bar. 
“It is, I think.”
“Let’s hope it stays that way.” He whispered, your focus still on the man who truly held your heart, who was making his polite excuse and walking way, back towards you all. His gaze locked on yours, only for a second, before Pansy was calling your name and drawing your focus elsewhere. 
When you looked up to her, she was grinning, a man by her side. “This is Elliot, he’s been wanting to meet you for some time. I promised him I’d introduce you both tonight.”
You offered the best smile you could as his cheeks reddened, and Pansy merely patted him on the shoulder, slinking away as you offered your hand to him. “Lovely to meet you, Elliot.”
“You too. As embarrassing as that introduction was, it’s true. I have wanted to meet you for some time.” He had a kind smile and pretty eyes, and he seemed far too nice to be dragged into your game tonight, but he seemed almost like a willing participant, and you weren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. As Draco took his seat, Elliot continued, “Pansy has told me so much about you. You know, if you’re free one day before you go back to that fancy boarding school of yours, I’d love to take you out.”
“Yeah? What have you got in mind?” You smile, twisting a little more to face him, and your encouragement only brightens his expression as Draco’s darkens in your peripheral.
“A night in London, perhaps. We could get dinner, and see the opera?”
“She doesn’t like the opera.” Draco sneered, openly staring at Elliot with enough contempt to scare away lesser men. Elliot tugged at his collar, glancing at Draco, and then back to you as you tried to hide your shock at his behaviour.
“The theatre, then?”
Draco looked ready to snap again, and before he could, you nodded, sparing your unwilling partner. “That sounds wonderful, I’ll see what my schedule says. I’ll get in touch with you through Pansy if I can find the time, is that okay?”
“Perfect.” He smiled, sneaking another wary glance at Draco who was not backing down from glaring at him unflinchingly, but Elliot shook it off, bravely. “It was a pleasure to meet you, truly.”
“And you, Elliot.”
Soon after he left, the plates were being cleared. You tried not to smirk as a different waiter, and one who very pointedly did not so much as even catch your gaze, cleared your dishes away at record speed. 
You knew that Draco had something, everything, to do with that. He was jealous by nature, a spoilt single child who did not like to share his favourite toys, and that is exactly what you were betting on tonight.
You stood, taking a lap around the room with Pansy to settle your food before the next course, and to get another drink. She took the opportunity to fill you in on how her first Christmas event with Blaise’s family had gone, and when you returned, you made sure to surreptitiously place yourself behind Draco’s chair. 
You placed a hand on his shoulder, a friendly gesture, squeezing and rubbing enough that your thumb swept over his collar and across his neck. His pulse jumped under your touch, and he tipped his head closer, into your touch. 
As he did so, your heart leapt in your chest. To others, it might look like a friendly gesture but to you, it meant so much more. You were tempted to cave then and there, to live with this being enough, to settle, but you couldn't. You didn’t want this to be it, you wanted to follow this by leaning down to kiss him, to have him smile against your lips in public the way he did when you were alone. 
To arrive at these events together, arms linked, and to stumble out tiredly together too. To sit by him, his hand on your thigh, to rest your head on his shoulder, to kiss him on the dance floor. The thought was enough to push you through. 
He twisted his head, to kiss your hand like he often did when you did this. Carefully, you slipped your hand away just in time, knuckles brushing across the nape of his neck as you stepped away, and back to your seat. 
His sights moved to you, but like a saving grace, the servers began to appear with more dishes, and dinner soon distracted you all. A delicious serving of salmon and potatoes, and the hall fell quiet enough for you to hear the beautiful music playing when chatter fell low. 
Low conversation, drinks refilled, and that perfect mood set across the room, as people took to the tables and quieted down. Your favourite part of the night, usually. Good food, your friends, and a chance to catch up without the usual weight of it all sitting on you. Regulus was talking, telling the rare story that had him caught up in a long conversation where he usually just observed quietly, but your attention was fixed on your lover. 
Until, Theo spoke up. 
“Oh, merda,” He muttered across Reggie’s’ story, his gaze cutting to you alarmingly quickly. “I forgot to tell you.”
“Tell me what?” Your heart skipped a beat, a flash of panic.
“My cousin flew in last minute for the party, and he wants to speak to you.” Theo’s words soothed your panic, and you offered him a flat look for the dramatic way he’d put it. Taking a sip from your glass, you raised a brow.
“When?”
“Now.” He confirmed, sights lifting to sit just behind you, and before you could even turn, a chair was being pulled up beside your own from another table. Turning your head to the owner, a smile burst across your face at the man sitting before you. 
“Dario!” Your arms were around his neck before you could stop yourself, and he was chuckling as he bundled you into an equally enthusiastic hug. He chuckled lightly, pulling back only far enough to press a friendly kiss to your cheek, and you cupped his face as you parted from him. “You’re growing a beard!”
“My mother hates it.” He chuckled, rubbing a hand over it. As you twisted a little more towards him, he reached down, practically manhandling you as he reached for the edge of your seat by your legs, tugging it sideways to face him. You squealed as the chair jolted, screeching on the floor, tugging you closer as he leaned in. “Sei incantevole.”
“Are you charming me in Italian?” You smirk, a boyish smile on his face as he lounged back in his seat. “What are you doing here, anyway? Theo said none of you were flying in this year! I thought you couldn't make it.”
“I couldn't,” He sighed, shrugging, “But, then I heard that you would be here, without a date, and I knew I just had to make it. So, here I am, la mia bella donna. You think a short flight from Italy would stop me rushing over here to you?”
Your giggle was against your control. Even if he was more like family than a romantic interest, the way his accent twisted around coyly spoken words, was enough to bring a blush to even the most unreceptive woman’s face. “Cut it out, you flirt.”
“You’ll save me a dance later, right?”
“We’ll see.” He rose his brow, and you lifted your glass, taking a sip of bubbly to hide your smile, leaving him hanging. “Depends on how much more of your cheesy flirting I can endure.”
“You mean my wonderful Italian charm?” He teased, pinching one of your cheeks, and deepening the flush he had already created. “Don’t think I don’t see the way I make you blush.
You could only scoff, mouth dry as you tried to think of a retort, and you didn’t miss Theo muttering in Italian behind you, curse words you’d picked up on tumbling from his mouth. 
“Perhaps this can convince you,” Dario reaches for his inner pocket, producing a small, slim box. An excited squeak breaks from you as he hands it over, your fingers brushing the elegant leather, an Italian name embossed across the front. “Open it later, alright?”
You could only nod, admiring it happily, before slipping the box safely inside of your clutch. He took your hand, kissing your knuckles as he stood. A final wink as he offered you hid charming goodbyes, and a farewell to the rest of the table, before returning his borrowed chair to where he had taken it from. 
You watched as your friend left, disappearing into the crowd, no doubt to mingle and socialise as he had always been so good at, before you swung back around in your chair. 
“He taught you everything you know, huh, Nott?”
Theo only shrugged, a cheeky grin on his face. “What can I say, tesoro? We Nott men just have charm. We’ll woo your panties right off.” He winked, the cockiness not lasting long as Draco swung at him, a fist landing roughly on his arm as the Malfoy heir scowled, glaring at his best friend. 
“Cut it out.” He growled the words through gritted teeth, and your hand shot up, rubbing at your lip to hide your grin as Draco made no effort to hide his own emotions. Theo only laughed, rubbing at the patch on his arm he’d taken the hit.
Dessert was served, a beautiful display of ice cream and winter berries that almost looked too good to eat. The key word being almost. You hadn't been able to resist, however, and the first small groan you’d let out as the sugar hit your tongue had Draco’s gaze snapping straight to you. I did not leave, once, after. 
Instead, he watched, through a dark gaze, every curl of your lips around the spoon, every swipe of your tongue to catch the juice of burst berries. If you’d put on a little extra show, just for him, nobody else had to know. 
It was like he was staring right into your soul, so intense, even after the meal was long since finished. Finally, you indulged him once again, turning to look at him and raising a brow. “Yes, Draco?”
“You look beautiful tonight, I am simply admiring.” He let his gaze move across you slowly, making his admiration apparent, and his gaze lingered a fraction of a second longer on your neck. He stared at you with open adoration, the kind of look that told you exactly how he felt, even if he was fighting it, but he was close to breaking. He was close to losing this game he didn’t know he was playing. Then, his gaze flickered over your shoulder, sweet observation morphing. His brows drew together, his open hand slamming down on the table hard enough to make the glass rattle. “Oh, fucking hell…”
Mattheo erupted with sudden laughter, loud and brash, and there was a tap on your shoulder before you could even ask him what had him in such hysterics. A young man you did not know, perhaps a few years younger than you, and glanced around the table to see which of your friends had put this one together. Each seemed to have caught on in their own time, and had a hand in adding to the fun, to watch Draco suffer more, but none of them were laying any claim to this one. 
“I’ve been watching you all evening, and you are beautiful.” He smiled, stuttering over his words slightly, and Draco made no shy show of his disdain, rolling his eyes and making a disapproving sound. “I was wondering if you might grant me the pleasure of a dance?”
“She would dance with you,” Enzo interrupted, before you could speak at all, leaning forward toward the edge of your chair from his own, and you could have kissed him in gratitude for saving you. “But, she promised me her first dance. Isn’t that right, love? And I think now is the perfect time. Let’s go.”
Offering you his hand, you took it, letting him sweep you away without a second’s delay, navigating you both to the dance floor and twirling you expertly into his arms. One hand clasped your own, the other sitting at a respectable place on your waist, your own on his shoulder, and he fell into the well-rehearsed steps of a classical ballroom dance he’d been doing since he could walk. 
You let out a shaky sigh, relief flooding your veins as you looked back to your seat, noticing that the boy had taken Enzo’s rejection well and disappeared, not hanging around and waiting for your return. 
“You’re killing him slowly, like a predator playing with its prey,” Enzo smirked, neither of you needing to clarify who you were talking about, as he brought up his cousin. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Really?” He chuckled, spinning you out before pulling you back in, sharp actions that made you dizzy with their accuracy, and you grinned as he brought you tumbling right back into his arms, perfectly. If he’d been trying to win you over, his dancing alone would’ve had you swooning. “You just show up to a fancy event like this, dripping in diamonds and pearls and looking like a million bucks, supposedly single. You mean to tell me you didn’t know that all these rich London boys wouldn't descend on you like vultures?”
“Not my fault I’m single and hot, Enz.”
He just laughed, dipping you a little. “We do struggle, don’t we.” You wove between people, a happy silence falling between you both once again as he guided you over the floor, back and forth, “Are you, though? Single, I mean.”
“That is up to your cousin.”
“Touché.”
You continued to move, until your feet were sore from all the twirling, clinging to Enzo in fits of giggles as he spun and twirled and dipped you more, hands on your waist as he lifted you through the air, making a show of his dancing. 
He may have seemed altruistic in his gestures, sweeping in to save you and Draco from your dance with the boy, but he was using you too. Enzo was taking every opportunity to show off his moves to every lady around the room watching, a flirty smile on his face between conversations and he glanced around, and you wouldn't be surprised if he received more offers than Theo or Dario by the end of the night. 
As the third song came to an end, and the music fell for just a second, you panted slightly, arm around his neck now, looking up at him with flushed cheeks and a bright smile. “Can we take a break?”
“Tired, already? You only gave me three so far.” He smirked at the way your jaw dropped, your face going hot and you knew your cheeks were red. You untangled yourself from his body, barely making it a step away from his laughter before he wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you into his side. “Oh, c’mon. I thought the aim was to flirt and make him mad?”
“He’s not even here to listen!”
“I’m practising,” Enzo murmured, steering you towards the bar, and leaning on the wood as he flagged down the bartender. You were quickly served, by a woman who fawned over Enzo as she passed by, and you had to snap your fingers in front of his face to snap his gaze away from her retreating form. “So, how long are you going to make him—”
A tap on Enzo’s shoulder cut him off, and he turned to look, straightening up instantly from his slumped position. As soon as he moved so you could see, your relaxation melted away too, as you found yourself face to face with Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy. 
“Lorenzo, I’ve hardly had a chance to talk to you all evening. I want to ask you about your schoolwork.” The impressively formal and deep voice of Lucius Malfoy settled over your skin like fresh snow, cold but smooth, and you shuddered. 
Narcissa only chuckled lightly at her husband’s words, her eyes on you. “You’ve been busy, though. Who is your lovely lady?”
“Uncle Lucius, Aunt Cissa. This is my friend, (Y/n).”
It wasn’t exactly the circumstances you’d wanted to meet them under, but you smiled nonetheless, nerves running wild as you offered your hand to them both, shaking politely just as your parents had taught you. 
“Ah, (Y/n). Yes. I make a point of knowing all of Draco’s school friends, but I’m in business with your father, aren’t I?” Something like a small kernel of sweetness was buried in that statement, his interest in his son’s life, even if he tried to hide it behind formalities, but it wasn’t your place to comment. 
“Yes, sir. That is correct.”
“They’re very proud of your schoolwork. They were telling me about your latest project. You synthesised a new potion to grow murkweed faster, is that true?”
You were surprised he knew so much, your small project submitted for Herbology was the last thing you’d expected Lucius Malfoy to know of, or take an interest in, and your mouth felt like sandpaper as you tried to form words. “Yes. Yes, sir. That’s right.”
“Interesting.” That calculating gaze scanned over you, analysing you from head to toe, like he could see right through you with a single glance. “That is impressive, for someone of your age. I’d be open to learning more. Are you considering making a future out of your alchemy talents? I have connections that I could contact for you.” 
You were speechless, your stomach going wild with butterflies born of both excitement and anxiety. He smirked, a look that would set you on edge if you weren’t sure deep down that this was in your interests, not against them. 
“Perhaps we can discuss it more soon, when we next see you. With Enzo?”
Enzo’s arm around your waist shifted, a reassuring weight that you were sure had been your only grounding presence for this surreal conversation. He patted your hip encouragingly. “Oh, no, we aren’t…” 
Motioning between you both, Lucius’ brows furrowed, and Narcissa tried to hide her sigh.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Aunt Cissa. (Y/n) isn’t mine, though it is wonderful that you approve.” Before either could question him, or expand on their confusion, Enzo gave your waist a final rub, before removing his touch from you entirely, and stepping towards his family. “Shall we go and discuss schoolwork then, Uncle? You have questions, and I have answers. I hope the ones you want.”
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss (Y/l/n).” Lucius politely offered you his hand again, shaking it firmly, and that was about as friendly a dismissal as you’d ever get from him, you’d heard. This was only supported by the surprised look on Narcissa’s face, and the beam Enz gave you as he guided his uncle away. 
“I hope to see you again soon, (Y/n). You look wonderful this evening, thank you for coming.” Narcissa murmured, before following her husband and nephew, glancing back at you only once over her shoulder. She knew. The woman was far more cunning than she let on, the true embodiment of a sneaky Slytherin, observing quietly and taking everything in. Her eyes glinted. She knew you knew she knew, too.
Your heart was pounding, cheeks warm as you lifted your fingers to them cautiously. The disappointed waitress placed down two drinks before you, Enzo long gone without his, but you smiled at her with appreciation, fingers shaking a little as you lifted the glass to your lips to take a sip. 
You’d spoken to Draco’s parents. 
They’d liked you. Lucius had offered to put you onto the career path, and Narcissa had complimented your dress. A soft laugh of disbelief slipped free, your eyes sliding closed for just a second as you revelled in the moment. 
It hasn’t been what you’d set out for tonight, but it was far more than what you’d hoped for. Opening your eyes again, to head back to the table and find Draco, you were met by the sight of a stranger leaning before you on the bar, grinning down at you in amusement. “Hello.”
“Hi.” You gave a terse smile, and a single nod. “If you’ll excuse me—”
“I didn’t even get to ask you to dance yet. Saw you out on the floor with the Berkshire boy, earlier, and I thought—”
“I’m dancing with her next, mate. Piss off.” 
Draco rarely sounded that mad, a chill went down your spine as you felt an arm slide around your waist, tugging you back into his chest. “Dray…”
The stranger only scoffed, glaring at Draco as he wandered away, and your hand reached for his forearm on your body. He snatched it away too soon, however, tugging on your hip to turn you around. His jaw was clenched tight, eyes more frozen than the coldest glacier. “Dance with me.”
Not a request, and he didn’t wait for an answer, before plucking your drink from your hand and slamming it down onto the bar, guiding you back to the swaying bodies. Standing before you, you offered him your hand, your hand sitting lightly on his shoulder. He didn’t take the respectable route, instead, his arm wrapped tight around your waist, sweeping you close to his body, and beginning to move you both in simple steps. 
It was several minutes before he relaxed, your arm sliding further around his neck in a more intimate hold, bringing the two of you much closer, swaying slowly. The tension in his body gave way with every step, and with a resigned sigh, he finally spoke, “You met my parents.”
“I did. They were lovely. Very curious about Enzo and I’s relationship.”
His hand clenched on your waist, and you tipped your head at him as his piercing gaze drilled into you. One more move…
“Oh, don’t be so mad, Dray. We’re only shagging, after all. You’ll find a new girl if I get swept away by someone else.”
His eyes narrowed, jaw clenching, and a fire burned in those silver eyes now, melting the ice away with rage. Checkmate.
“You win, alright? I’m not playing this stupid game any longer.” He took a deep breath, and another, fingers twitching on your back as jealousy bubbled under the surface. “For fucks sake, how many pieces of jewellery from other guys are you wearing? Who bought you those earrings, that necklace? I should be the only one buying you gifts. I should be the one spoiling you. You want the Malfoy family ring? I’ll go yank it off my mother’s engagement ring from her finger right now, just take all this off.”
He studied you for a second, confusion growing at the smirk that grew on your lips. Victory was yours, and you leaned in, pressing a delicate kiss to his cheek. Letting the hand from his neck smooth down his chest, his gaze stayed locked on the jewels around your neck, glaring angrily. “No.”
“No?”
“No. It’s pretty. I’m going to keep wearing it all, let it remind you what you have. Next time you piss me off, forget a date, or use the last of my shampoo, I’m going to put it all back on so you can remember how many guys would jump at the chance.” His nostrils flared, but he stayed silent, wisely knowing when to keep his mouth shut. “I don’t want your family ring, Malfoy. Not yet. I just want a proper title, and the respect that comes with it. I’m not your booty call, or your side piece. You don’t want to play games anymore? Then don’t.”
“You already won.” He whispers, his head dropping down to let his forehead rest on your own. “You know how much you mean to me.”
“Yes, I do. But I want the whole world to know it, too, Dray.”
He didn’t respond verbally. Instead, he twisted his head, enough to press his mouth to your own, silencing any more arguments between you both as he kissed you. His lips claimed yours, a tender and loving kiss, showing everyone just how much you meant to him. There was no mistaking the emotions within it, not as his arms wrapped around your body, holding you to him as the pretence of dancing was given up, your hand on the back of his head, fingers in his hair, meeting every push and pull.
When he pulled away, your smile took over, bashful now under his openly adoring gaze, and he stole several more pecks from your lips. A happy sound escaped you as he tugged you in, tucking his face into your neck, and swaying you both to the music. 
“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”
“You have, but I’d be open to hearing it again.” Your hand smoothed over his hair, and he chuckled against your skin, leaving a kiss on the crook of your neck before raising to meet your eye. 
“You are breathtaking, darling. I’m in awe. This colour is my favourite, you know.”
“Why do you think I wore it?”
His fingers trailed down your spine, eyes sparkling even more at that revelation. “How about we get out of here? We’ll make our goodbyes to my parents, and head out.”
“Our goodbyes?” You repeated as he took your hand, lacing your fingers together. 
“Yes. From their son and his girlfriend. I think you deserve a proper introduction, after all.”
Tugging you across the floor, he gave you no time to prepare, and certainly, none to disagree, as you smoothed your hair and attempted to control the blush he’d brought to your cheeks. Through the crowds he wove, until he was pulling to a stop just shy of his parents, and Enzo looked as though he could have cried with relief when Lucius’ intense focus was taken away from him. The boy quickly slipped away as both of Draco’s parents turned to face you. 
“Miss (Y/l/n), when we said we hoped to see you again soon, I didn’t realise you’d take it quite this literally.” He murmured, voice as low and calm as always, and your lips parted, a different kind of heat flooding your features. 
“Oh, behave now, Lucius,” Narcissa grinned, her gaze dropping to your clasped hands, before she reached up to her son’s face, pinching his cheek with a smile. “Draco, darling, I’ve hardly seen you all evening.”
“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you Mother, but we’ll be leaving early.” She only gave him a knowing look, ignoring Lucius’ displeased huff, as if she wasn’t surprised at all. 
“‘We’?”
“My girlfriend and I.” He said, proud and strong, before tugging you forward a little more to stand in front of him. His hand left your own, circling your waist instead, and she offered him a smile at the news. 
“I see.” She smiled, patting her son’s cheek affectionately, before turning that knowing gaze on you. “Now Lorenzo’s evasiveness whenever I asked him about you makes sense.”
“You asked about me?” Your words were a rushed squeak, which only seemed to amuse Narcissa more. 
“Of course, dear. I wanted to know more about you. I’d ask you to sit and chat with me for a spell, but I believe my son might combust if I did.”
“Mother!” He gasped, and Lucius only tutted. 
“Draco.” His father growled softly, shaking his head, and the red on his son’s cheeks only grew.
“You both may go, for now. But I hope you’ll visit me soon, and we might talk?”
“You mean… just us?” Your words tapered off to a near whisper, and Lucius smirked to himself as Draco rolled his eyes. 
“Yes, dear. We’ll have tea.”
You could only nod, bidding your final farewells to them both in a state of awe, before Draco was hurrying you along. Tight hands gripping your waist, lips on your neck as he loved you through the crowds, swiping up your bag and giving you barely a moment to say goodbye to your friends before sweeping you away again. It was only due to the snow falling outside, you were sure, that he allowed you to stop long enough to get your coats. 
Helping you, he lifted the garment onto you from behind, kissing your cheek as he reached around your body to fasten it. His elegant coat was already on, and leather gloves were on his hands as he offered you one. Lacing your fingers through his own, he smiled, tugging you out into the freezing night, and ushering you around the side of the Manor, away from the stream of cars lined up for guests as they left. 
“Where are we going, Dray?” 
“To one of the gardens near the path.” He never turned back, leading you carefully around patches of ice and slippery snow as you moved, the light from the house fading. It was almost pitch black, before he mumbled a small spell, and the garden lights glowed to light, glittering on the fresh blanket of ice. 
Sitting on the grass was an old-fashioned sleigh, enchanted to keep dry, even in the snow, and two reindeer sat happily in the snow snuffling at the grass and scattered food. 
The landscape stretched out far before you both, trees and grass and walls all covered in snow like something from a Christmas card, and the sigh that left your lips clouded in the air before your face. 
“Oh, Draco…” Taking a few steps closer, snow-tipped over the tops of your heels as you stepped off the pathway onto the grass, chilling your feet for only a second, before Draco was following. Scooping you up into his arms, you kicked the ice from your feet with a giggle, your arms looping around his neck. “What’s all this?”
“This is your Christmas present. I didn’t realise that was the kind of ice you wanted instead.” He muttered, eyes flicking down to your neck, as he carried you carefully through the snow and towards the ornate sleigh. As you leaned in to kiss his cheek, he smiled shyly, avoiding your gaze as he became embarrassed, “I wanted to do something romantic for you. We can take the sleigh back to the town, get a cab, and take the jet anywhere you want to go. Pansy already packed a bag for you.”
He placed you down on the edge of the sleigh, letting you shuffle across onto the warmed leather. With another kiss to your lips, he scoffed at your smile. 
“Merry Christmas, my wicked little girlfriend.”
“I can’t believe you arranged all this.” You were practically bouncing in your seat, watching as Draco nervously tugged on the reins, prompting the lazy animals to stand back up, before settling into the sleigh himself. Like they knew just what to do, they took off in a slow trot, tugging the pair of you along through the snow. 
“Maybe if you’d have waited, instead of making me fight for my life tonight, you’d have been surprised.”
His arm was splayed along the back of the seat, and you snuggled in a little closer to him. Curling his arm around you, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, shaking his head and burying his nose in your hair. “If I didn’t make you fight for me, Dray, you’d probably have introduced me to your mother as your study partner. I gave you a little push, that’s all.”
“Is that so?” He muttered, guiding your face up so he could peck your lips. “Who do you think helped me arrange all of this for my ‘lovely lady friend’, hm? I’ve been writing to my mother about having an interest in someone for months now. You underestimate me.”
“You never gave me any other indication!” 
“Oh, please. You walk me like a damn dog, you knew how I felt.” His mouth closed over your own, stealing a kiss, and you couldn't help but smile into it. “I think tonight just proves it.”
The sleigh trotted on as Draco kissed you in the back, beyond thought and reason, your hands tucked into his coat for warmth as he kept you cuddled in close to his side. 
Minutes melted away, the two of you lost in your own world as you jostled and trotted through the fields, back toward the town. Whatever he had planned, it had been in motion for days, and the thought only made you fall a little more in love with him. Perhaps you had underestimated him, but none of it mattered now, not when he was kissing you like you were his only way to breathe, and you had him in your arms, properly, at last.
“So, Pansy knew about your little plan?”
“Yes. I told her days ago.” 
“Hm…” You loved her, and it was perhaps her knowledge of Draco’s actions that made this all the funnier. “So, she knew about your plan, and mine. And still, she made sure to introduce guys to me all night. She played us both just for her own amusement.”
As you thought of her, your fingers lifted to your neck, sitting on the delicate jewellery there, and Draco huffed. Looping his finger underneath it, he tugged lightly. “Can you take this off now, please?”
“Why would I do that?” His pout deepened, glaring at the offending item, and you gave in with an airy laugh. “Pansy, Daph and Tori picked it out personally.”
“What?” His head snapped up, pout gone as his jaw dropped, and he was not laughing like you were. “You let me believe another guy decked you out in diamonds all night! What about the matching earrings?”
“Blaise.”
“The bracelet?”
“Theo and the Notts.” 
At that mention, his eyes narrowed again, searching for your clutch and finding it resting in your lap. “But Theo’s cousin Mario gave you a separate gift.”
“Dario.” You corrected, and he mimicked it childishly, scoffing afterwards. “Well, that part was real. He truly was flirting, and I have no idea what it is, I haven’t opened it yet.”
“Give it to me.” He reached for your bag, a second too slow as you swiped it away from him with a gasp. He didn’t give up, still trying to snatch it as he leaned over you, pressing you back into the seat through fits of laughter, the two of you fighting over the bag until it was pressed to your chest, your eyes wide as you stared up at him, shaking your head. “Give it to me! I’m chucking it, hand it over!”
“No, it’s mine!” He slumped back into his seat, panting for breath and smoothing his hair back down. He was pointedly staring away in the opposite direction, and when you leaned in closer with a chuckle, he leaned away. Grabbing his shoulder, you planted yourself firmly in his lap, kissing the underside of his jaw. “I’m keeping it, but your present is better, I just know it. Whatever it is, could never beat this.”
“Promise?”
“I promise, Dray.” 
He gave in, wrapping his arms around your waist, tugging you in closer to his body and pressing a happy kiss to your cheek. “Fine, but I’m buying you a new necklace when we get off the damn plane. I don’t care who bought that one.”
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randomfanfics02 · 5 months
Text
Five times I whispered 'I love you.' Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader.
Summary; Being Daphne's best friend had its perks, growing up alongside the Bridgerton family, going to the balls with them, and falling in love with her older brother.
Warning; shit tone of fluff, little smut, angst. Family death; readers mother passed away and Father is ill with similar traits as the King. Readers last name is Taylor.
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Distractions.
"Y/n,"
You pause, looking through the mirror at Daphne, your fingers run through your curls, a simple lilac dress hugging your frame beautifully.
"Dear, why are you running?" You laugh, raising a questioning brow at the oldest Bridgerton daughter.
"I need your help, the Duke is on his way and I need a moment alone with him-"
"Out of wedlock," You turn around to face Daphne, with a gasp, you place a hand on your chest with a teasing smirk, "How scandalous."
Daphne whacks your shoulder, passing you to take a lipstick from her vanity, "No, I need you to go downstairs and distract Anthony for me, mother has taken the others to the market and you are my only help."
"It will cost you three new books-"
"Of course," Daphne beams, pressing a kiss on your cheek, "Thank you."
You hum in reply, the two of you quickly scurrying to window as the carriage arrives at the front of the house. You both share a look before the two of rush out her room and down the stairs, hands held together as you try not too trip over your dresses.
"Go quickly, I'll distract him," You gently push Daphne towards the door before rushing towards Anthony's office.
Taking a deep breath, you straighten your dress and gently knock on his door. Hearing a faint, 'come in', you gently open the door, popping your head around the corner as he looks up from his desk.
"Lord Bridgerton," You greet with a smile, "I was wondering-"
"What are you up too?" Anthony frowns, placing down his work, "You have that look on your face-"
"I have no look upon my face-"
"You certainty do-"
"My face holds nothing but beauty,"
Anthony laughs, standing up as you smile teasingly at him, "You hold a lot of beauty, Lady Taylor."
You feel your cheeks blush as he gets himself a drink, he leans against his desk as he watches you. You hold his eyes for a moment before clearing your throat, "I was wondering if you wanted to walk with me in the gardens, Daphne is busy-"
"Of course," Anthony replies, taking his jacket from the back of his chair.
"Are you not busy?"
"Not for you," Anthony offers you his arm with a smile, "And I can't have my sisters dear friend wondering around alone."
You smile, taking his arm as the two of you head towards the gardens, you look over your shoulder catching Daphne followed by the Duke who gives you a cheeky wink to which you roll your eyes at playfully.
Anthony holds the door for you, and you head out into the gardens. Beautiful lines of flowers lead down the garden path towards the pond, where a tall white fountain sits in the middle of it.
"Its beautiful out here," You say, letting your fingertips run over tall pink flowers, "You should host a picnic."
Anthony hums in agreement, "And whom should attend?"
"Me," You raise a brow at him, making him tilt his head down towards yours with a smile on his own.
"You practically live here," He jokes, "But you are more than welcome."
Your hand falls from Anthony's arm as Hyacinth and Gregory come bounding towards the two of you, their nanny running close behind with bright red cheeks. You catch Hyacinth in your arms, placing the ten year old on you hip as she hugs you.
"Y/n," She beams, "Have you seen our new flowers, mother had them placed by the entrance, they are tall and purple and-"
"They are beautiful," You press a kiss on her cheek, Anthony watches with small smile, holding Gregory's hand in his own as the four of you continue your walk, "What are you two playing?"
"We were just running around," Gregory answers, gently swinging his and Anthony's hands.
"Sounds exhausting," You roll your eyes playfully as Hyacinth giggles at you.
"Anthony?" Gregory pauses, pointing over into the distance, "What is that?"
Your eyes go wide as Anthony looks over at you, then towards the carriage at the front of the house. Anthony races towards the entrance as you place down Hyacinth, taking hers and Gregory's hand as you follow behind him.
Reaching the entrance, the carriage is long gone, leaving Daphne stood at the doors with a small smile. Anthony skids to a stop, looking up at his sister with a questioning look. You stop beside Daphne, holding a cheeky smile as he glares at you, now knowing your true intentions for wanting to go for a walk.
"I best excuse myself," You press a kiss on the two youngest's head before pressing one on Daphne's kiss, who whispers a thank you. Making your way down the steps, you lean up to press a kiss on his cheek, "Have a lovely evening, Ant."
Anthony watches you walk away, fingertips brushing over his cheek as Daphne laughs, he glares up at her, "You are unable to question my love life if you are unable to sort out yours, brother."
Anthony watches as his sister ushers his little brother and sister inside the house before looking over his shoulder in the distance you had wondered off too.
2. Always.
"Lady Taylor,"
You jump in surprise as The Duke bursts into the room, eyes wide, breathing heavily, cloths in disarray. It was late a night, your home library only lit up by a few candles. You place down your book, heart pounding in your chest as catch onto the worry in his eyes.
"Daphne has gone into labour, Y/n," He hurries, offering you his hand as you rush with him through your house.
"What is happening?" Your father questions, stepping outside of his office.
"It's Daphne papa," You quickly explain, slipping on your shoes, "She has gone into labour."
"Wish her my best," You father smiles, looking over your shoulder at the Duke who takes your hand again gently pulling you along, "And you too son, you'll be a fine father."
The Duke smile quickly, closing the doors behind you before climbing into the carriage, "Are you alright?"
Simon nods, knee bobbing up and down, his face written with anxiety, "I am worried."
"Daphne is a strong woman, I have grown up alongside her and she will be a wonderful mother," You reassure him before teasingly adding, "So will you."
Simon laughs, "Thank you, Y/n. She asked for you, she needs you beside her."
"Always."
"As did the Viscount," Simon says, you open your mouth to reply but he beats you too it, "He trusts you, I have never seen Anthony so infatuated."
The rest of the carriage ride is sat in silence. Your heart pounding in your chest as you arrive, Simon rushes out before you, you quickly following as you rush towards Daphne's room. Reaching the hallway towards her room, The Duke runs past the siblings who sit scattered outside the in the hallway. Anthony pushes off the wall he was leaning on, quickly taking your hands as Daphne's scream echoes down the hall as Simon walks back into her room.
Your eyes stay onto his, squeezing his hand, "I have too-"
"I know," Anthony nods, pressing a gently kiss on your hands, "Be with her."
You walk past the siblings, pressing a quick kiss on Hyacinth's head as you pass. Anthony watches as you close the bedroom door behind you, before sighing, slumping back down beside Benedict.
"Are you ever going to come to your senses?"
Anthony frowns, looking at his brother, "Pardon?"
"Y/n, she has grown with us," Benedict leans his head back against the wall, "You don't look at her like how Colin and I do, you look at her as if she holds your world."
Anthony shakes his head, "I do not wish to burden Y/n with our family-"
"She is family."
Hours had past. Gregory and Hyacinth had gone to bed, the rest of the siblings fallen asleep in the hall. Benedict passes his brother a drink as he rubs his eyes tiredly.
"I believe it will be a boy," Benedict mumbles tiredly as Anthony hums in agreement.
Their heads shot up as you quietly come from the room, gently closing it behind you, you smile brightly, "It's a boy."
Anthony and Benedict share a laugh, as the other siblings startle awake. They celebrate together as Anthony walks towards you, gently wiping away the happy tear that rolled down your cheek. He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead as you rest your hands on his chest as holds you close.
"Thank you, Y/n."
"Always, Anthony."
3. Take my hand.
Aubrey Hall looked stunning under the summer sun, the garden decorated with numerous tents, surrounding a platform for dancing, a band siting in the corner.
"It looks truly beautiful," Daphne mutters as you nod in agreement, watching as Lords and Ladies began to dance under the evening sky.
Anthony and Colin walk up to the two of you and Anthony takes a moment to take in how breath taking you look. A sheer black dress sat over a burgundy one with think straps, sheer black gloves reach over your elbows, dark hair curled and pulled into a perfect bun. He smiled gently as you thank him for the drink he passed you, the four of you stand on the steps watching down on the garden party.
"Is that Lord Elton your father is talking too?" Colin asks, squinting under the sun as the three of your follow Colin's gaze, "Why would your father be speaking to Lord Elton, the man that has been rumoured to be the biggest prick of the ton."
Anthony reaches behind you, smacking his brother around the back of his head, but none-the-less doesn't disagree.
"Why would your father be talking to Lord Elton?" Colin asks as Daphne and yourself share a worried expression.
"I will be back in a moment," You rush down the steps and hurry towards your father.
Anthony watches with a heavy feeling sat in his heart as you gently interrupt their conversation. His stare hardens as Lord Elton gently presses a kiss on the back of your hand.
"Stop glaring," Daphne gently nudges her older brothers arm.
"Lady Y/n looks beautiful tonight, I am sure he is hoping for much more,"
Anthony smacks his brother again as Daphne rolls her eyes at the two, "Anthony, you truly need to see that Y/n would be a fine wife for you."
"She is your closest friend, Daphne," Anthony replies, swallowing thickly as he watches you, "She is family-"
"She makes the world stop for you, doesn't she?" Daphne rhetorically asks, "She makes you happy and you make her happy too, I only wish for the two of you to be happy together."
Anthony looks down at his sister, mirroring her soft smile as he presses a gentle kiss on her forehead.
Colin chuckles, "In other words brother, be a man and tell her how you feel." Colin ducks before his older brother could smack him.
You pull your father to the side as Lord Elton walks away to get himself a drink. Your father was the only family you had after your mother's passing a few years ago. Recently, your father had been having these spells as your father calls it, moments where he forgot about the world around him and focused on the stars, believing your mother was calling him from the stars.
"Lord Elton is a good man-"
"Father, I understand you are worried but he is not a good man, I wouldn't be happy-"
"But you would be safe and have money, the children you have will be looked after," You father gently argues, cupping your face he brushes his thumb over your cheek, "If I can not remember you, my darling, I want to forget with you secure and with someone I trust."
"You trust him?" You ask, brows pinched together as you look at your father, "Don't you want me to be happy?"
"Lord Elton is hardly around, he is wealthy," You father answers, "You would have my inheritance-"
"That he would take, he is a wicked man-"
"You mustn't think the worst of people," Your father's gaze harden slightly as he sighs, shoulders dropping, "I don't know how long I have left and I need you to be safe when I pass."
"I will-"
"Lord Elton will provide for you, and he has enough to do so," You father finalizes, "I will be giving him my blessing."
Your father walks away as you watch with a sudden pit of anxiety sat in your stomach. Looking over your shoulder the Bridgeton siblings had disappeared which your thankful for as you rush up the stairs and into the house.
You rush further into the house, away from the garden party, you finally sob, pressing a gloved hand over your mouth as you slide down the wall, falling into tears.
Outside Anthony watches as you quickly walk away and into the house, passing his drink to Benedict before quickly following. He smiles politely as people greet him before rushing further into the house. Anthony frowns, falling beside you to bring you into a hug letting you sob into his chest.
"My father is ill," You whisper, as you wipe away your tears, moving to lean your head on his shoulder.
"I am sorry," Anthony replies, pressing a kiss on your head, "What is wrong?"
"He has these spells," You quietly say, "He believes he can hear my mother and she is telling him to meet him in the stars, he has fits and spells of anger where he locks himself in his office."
"What can be done?" Anthony take one of your gloves off, lacing your fingers together.
"Nothing," You reply, wiping another fallen tear, "He wants to marry me off to Lord Elton so he can pass knowing I am safe-"
"Lord Elton is a wicked man-"
"Please tell my father, Ant," You lean your chin on his shoulder as he peers down at you, "I don't want to marry him."
"I know," Anthony presses a kiss on your forehead, "I won't let it happen."
You breath a laugh, tightening your hand in his, "And how will you do that, my Lord?"
Anthony swallows thickly, before resting his forehead on yours, "Whatever to make sure you are happy."
4. Our final moment.
On a warm summers day, your father hosted a game of croquet, inviting the Bridgerton family, The Duke and Lord Elton for a friendly game. Taylor summer house was grand, your favourite home; tall tower like structures either side of the grand entrance, a library with bookcases from the floor to the ceiling and a garden that reached for miles, the house surrounded by trees. It was simply beautiful.
"May I say," Lord Elton says, pushing back his thick dark hair off the thin line of sweat, "This house would be magnificent to raise children in."
You share a look with Daphne after Lord Elton winked at you. Anthony glared at him as the Duke nudged him, raising a brow at him to which he rolled his eyes at. You gently tugged the sleeves of your lace sleeves over your knuckles as your father awkwardly chuckles, breaking the slight pause at the Lord's comment.
"I think Lord Taylor and I will sit the rest of this out," Violet gently smiles, placing a comforting hand on your arm sensing your uneasiness.
"I agree, I grow tired quickly now I grow old," You father jokes, smiling gratefully as Benedict passes him a drink before he sits.
"You've been old for awhile, father," You press a quick kiss on his head as you pass, smiling as Anthony passes you a blue mallet. The sibling's yourself and the Duke, carry on with the game, walking down the garden hill to the next match.
"What a quick tongue," Lord Elton jokes, taking the yellow mallet from Anthony's hand, "I am sure we can fix that when you'll be mine."
"I am no object you can claim," You take the yellow mallet from his hands, passing it back to Anthony as you pass, "And I do not need to be fixed."
Anthony shares a smirk with Simon as Daphne and Eloise share a laugh hidden under their hands. Benedict pats your shoulder with a proud smile before you take your shot perfectly.
As the game continues, you stand beside Anthony and Daphne, laughing gently at Colin's misfortune and bad aim. Lord Elton follows on, whacking the ball and Anthony's out the way making Anthony's roll down the hill. Anthony glares as you roll your eyes at Lord Elton's smirk. Daphne goes next, sending a cheeky wink to her husband as she hits your ball, coincidently making it follow Anthony's.
"I guess we need to go for a hunt, Lord Bridgerton," You smile cheekily, taking Anthony's arm.
As Lord Elton goes to object, Anthony smiles, "We will catch up, continue."
Simon wraps an arm around Daphne's shoulders as the two share a knowing smile.
Anthony and yourself walk down the hill, your hand falls into his in a more intimate moment, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. The two of you found your croquet balls stuck in mud at the edge of the tree line.
"Come on,"
Anthony watches as you walk into the mud, bunching your dress in one hand. You whack the ball out of the mud, before looking at Anthony with a raised brow. He chuckles before sighing as he steps into the mud, whacking the ball out of the mud and beside yours. Anthony takes a step out of the mud, sighing at his new black shoes now covered in mud.
"Anthony,"
Anthony looks over at you, who is struggling to get out of the mud, your mallet now fallen beside you as you try and pull your foot out. Anthony steps back into the mud, hand catching yours, as he gently pulls you into his arms.
Looking down at you, you hold onto his arms, tugging gently to try and free yourself, "May I lift you?"
"You may,"
Placing his hands on your waist, you wrap your arms around his shoulders as he lifts you out of the mud. As he goes to walk out of the mud, he finds himself stuck making to two of you tumble forward. You back hits the mud first, his body falling on yours. The two of you gaze at each other, before breaking into a fit of laughter, your arms wrap around his shoulders, legs slotted together.
"Your covered in mud," Anthony murmurs as the laughter dies, bright smiles gracing your faces.
"My back and just your knees," You wink, "How scandalous."
Anthony laughs again, eyes searching yours as his cheeks blush pink, "A rumour that may save you from marriage."
"So that was your plan all along,"
"Possibly."
His eyes flickered over your face, before falling onto your lips, you barely tilted your head at him, raising your brows when you let your eyes level at his mouth, at those pink lips.
"Anthony," You breathlessly whispered.
His lips meet in the most romantic kiss, one full of passion and unspoken love. A muddied hand cupped your cheek as Anthony leaned down on his elbow beside your head, you hands fell to cup the back of his head, fingertips running down his nape as you pulled him, if possible, closer. You moaned into his mouth as the hand that once cupped your cheek gripped your hip tightly bunching your dress in his fist as instinctively hitch your leg over his hip.
The kisses turn more hungry and needy, his tongue dancing over yours as his hips press into yours. His hand runs over your ankle that sits on his hip, running his hand down the length of your smooth leg before resting it on your upper thigh.
"Lady Y/n! Anthony!"
The two of you quickly pull apart as Colin comes bounding down the hill. Scrambling to your feet, Anthony helps you out of the mud before picking up your mallet passing it to you before picking up his own. Colin stops, looking between the two of you with a wide cheeky grin.
"You have a little mud on your cheek," Colin points to your cheek making your eyes go wide as you quickly try brushing away the mud off your cheek.
"We will be there in a moment," Anthony tells his brother.
Colin nods, unable to take the smile off his face as he sends you a cheeky wink before walking back up the hill. Anthony takes his handkerchief from his pocket, standing in front of you as her cups your cheek, gently cleaning the mud from your cheek. His eyes never leave yours as he does. Shrugging out of his jacket, he wraps it around your shoulders, helping you slide your arms into his jacket.
"To hide the mud," He quietly jokes, making you blush.
"Thank you," Anthony smiles, pressing a lingering kiss on your forehead.
5. 'I love you.'
Lord Elton held a ball in order to celebrate your engagement. Though it was a little beforehand as you had yet to be asked for your hand in marriage. The hall was decorated beautifully with white flowers, tall champagne towers and a band playing on a stage.
Anthony was unable to look away from you; a white dress with lace detailing and long sleeves that fell over your knuckles, flower embroidery decorating the skirt. You hair was long and curled, half of it pinned back with delicate pearls.
"You are staring again," Eloise nudged her brothers arm.
"I can not help it," Anthony admits, eyes meeting your as you look over your shoulder, you send him a kind smile though your eyes betray you true feelings.
"This is your last chance to tell her," Eloise tells him softly, taking a sip of her drink, "Or Lord Prick will marry her."
Anthony chuckles, looking down at his sister fondly, "Stop listening to Colin's foul language."
"I believe I learnt that from you, brother."
You grasp your father hand in your own as his began to shake. Lord Elton rambles on about something, but you pay no attention, focusing on your father.
"Lord, I hope you don't mind but I think my father has had enough for tonight," You smile gently at him, "I think its time to go home."
"Of course, I will accompany you-"
"That isn't necessary-"
"When you are mine, I will not let you out of my sight," Lord Elton pulling your father closing to him and out of your hand, "I will take him to the carriage, get whatever you need."
You watch helplessly as he takes you father away, worry sitting in the pit of your stomach as you gently push through the crowd. The announcement that the ball is over is shouted as you take Daphne's hand, gently pulling her aside.
Her worried eyes meet your own, "My father is about to have a spell and Lord Elton is coming with us, possibly to propose, what do I do?"
She squeezes your hand, "Talk to him, quickly. My brother loves you, go before it's too late."
You nod, quickly pressing a kiss on her cheek before quickly walking towards the eldest Bridgerton brother. He stands alone, waiting for his siblings and mother to collect themselves before getting into the carriage. His eyes widen as you approach meeting you halfway, placing his hand on your shoulders as his eyes meet your worried ones.
"What happened?"
"I am taking my father home, he is unwell," You rush out, "Tell me you love me."
"Pardon-?"
"The prick will propose with my father's blessing in his state, he is playing a wicked game and I know it, so tell me you love me as I love you and be the man my father wants me to marry, be that man I feel safe with."
Anthony's brain pauses, his heart stopping as his hands fall from your shoulders. You heart hurts, taking his moment to mean rejection. You look over your shoulder as a butler calls your name, telling you a carriage has arrived.
Looking back at Anthony, he stares, eyes glazed over as you nod once before walking away, brushing past the Bridgerton siblings, ignoring Daphne as she calls your name.
"He missed his chance," Eloise sadly mutters, head falling onto Benedict's shoulder as he watches his older brother crumble.
---
Holding your father's hand tightly, you guide him through the house as he mutters quietly to himself. Taking him into the office, you sit him down into the chair before pulling the curtains closed, closing your father away from the heavy rain and sudden shout of thunder.
"What is happening?" Lord Elton asks as you father mutters to himself, head in hands as you kneel beside him.
"He is fine," You defensively dismiss him, "Thank you for your assistance but you may leave-"
"He is losing his mind," Lord Elton laughs, watching as your father gently rocks himself, looking up at the ceiling, muttering about your mother and the stars, "Look at the man."
"Don't you dare-"
"Do what?" Lord Elton rhetorically asks, taking a further step into the office, "You are simply a woman and he is a freak."
"You are simply a beast of a man, one that is cruel and heartless," You spit, clutching your father hands tighter in your own as a tear rolls down your cheek, "I will never except your hand in marriage."
Lord Elton glare down at you, before spitting horridly at yours and your fathers feet, "I wouldn't touch the Bridgerton's whore anyway."
"Leave before I write to the Queen herself, describing how much of a prick you truly are, and then no woman will want to touch you."
Lord Elton snarls before slamming every door on his way out. You turn to your father, letting go of one of his hands to gently cup his face, he tiredly blinks at you as you wipe away a tear.
"I am sorry," Your father quietly whispers, "I am so sorry, my dear."
"Do not apologise, you wanted what was best for me," You reply with a quick pained smile, "But I am afraid what I thought was best for me, doesn't want me."
"Anthony knows, he is just scared." Your father gently rests his forehead on yours, "Your mother was everything to me, when you where born you became everything as well, I want what is best for you and I got carried away in my own worries that you would be alone when I pass that I was unable to see how I was going to marry you with a man that was going to do more harm than happiness."
"You need to rest," You pull away, standing up to help him, "I will ask the cook to get you something warm to eat-"
"I can do that, darling," You father squeezes your hand, giving you a warm smile, "Go and find your happiness."
"I can not leave you like this-"
You father presses a kiss on the back of your hand, "I will be fine, now go."
---
"I froze, how could I be so stupid?"
Benedict sighs, sitting beside his brother, who holds his head in his hands, cheeks stained with tears. Daphne kneels in front of him, placing a hand on his knee as Violet sits the other side of him, placing a comforting hand on her son's back.
"Love makes us do stupid things," His mother gently whispers sadly.
"I have loved her for so long and Y/n tells me she loves me and I suddenly do not know how to reply," Anthony finally breaks, looking at his mother as a tear runs down his cheek, "I have lost her."
"No, no you have not," Violet brings her son in her arms, pressing a kiss on his head, "You can still go to her, tell her before it is too late."
"Lord Elton-"
"Do you honestly believe that Y/n would chose Lord Elton over the one she truly loves?"
Anthony looks down at his sister, who offers him a knowing smile. Benedict pats his brother's shoulder, mirroring Daphne's smile.
Violet nods, squeezing her son's hand tightly, "Go and get your happiness, Anthony."
---
The maids shout after you as you rush out of the house, hands gripping your dress tightly as you run through the rain. You hair sticks to your neck, the white dress ruined but you couldn't find yourself to care.
The Bridgerton siblings and Violet watch as Anthony rushes out of the house, smiling happily as they watch Anthony run down the street. Simon takes his wife's hand in his own, pressing a kiss on her head before gently taking his son out of her arms. Eloise beams as Colin wraps an arm around her shoulder as Benedict wraps his arms around the two youngest. Violet wipes the tear off her cheek as she finally watches her eldest son chase after the purest love.
Rounding the corner, the streets are empty, only lit up by the golden glow from the house windows. You suddenly stop as he does, standing opposite sides of the road. His hair sticks to his forehead, white skirt sticking to his arms as his blue waistcoat is soaked in rain.
Your chest heaves as your heart pounds in your chest, the two of you clash into a hug. His arms wrap around your waist as your wrap around his shoulders, holding you close to him, he presses a light kiss on your neck before pulling away slightly.
"I do, I do love you," Anthony breaths out, "I am sorry I froze, but hearing you tell me you love me, I- It was all I have ever wanted to hear."
You smile, gently pressing a hand to the back of his nape, resting his forehead to yours, "There are many reasons why I couldn't marry Lord Elton, not only because he was a prick but because I couldn't imagine marry anyone else but you."
"Then marry me," Anthony says, nose brushing against yours as he smiles, "Let me call you my wife, let me have children with you, grow old with you, let me kiss you when I want, let me love you."
You share a kiss under the stars, one full of spoken and knowing love, one of passion and understanding. His hand holds the back of your head as your hands slide down his shoulders, resting on his chest, his heart thumping under your touch. He holds onto desperately, kissing you with all his love, before gently pulling away, resting his forehead on yours with a love sick smile.
"I love you," Anthony whispered against your lips.
"I love you too."
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cringefries · 2 years
Text
So I’ve been watching Mystery Incorporated
[ID: An edited video clip from Scooby Doo: Mystery Incorporated, first showing Fred standing on a dark street under a street lamp as he says determinedly to himself:
"I'm tired of being afraid. I have feelings, world, for traps, and Daphne! I'm a guy no more."
As Fred says, "Guy no more", the nonbinary flag fades in and out across the screen, with stripes of yellow, white, purple, and black.
Fred runs off, and the scene changes so he is talking to Daphne, saying seriously:
"I need to tell you something, and I need you to listen." He puts his hands on Daphne's shoulders and says happily, "I'm not a guy anymore."
Daphne asks, confused, "What?"
The scene changes again, with Fred looking sad, saying,
"But I'm also not gonna hide the fact that I have feelings for traps, and you."
Daphne smiles at Fred as he continues:
"Call me a non-man if you want." while the nonbinary flag fades in and out again. Fred looks away, and continues, "A caring…un-guy?" The flag fades in and out again. "Whatever the street slang is." The definition of Nonbinary fades in, reading:
"Nonbinary:
Adjective
adjective: non-binary; adjective: nonbinary
1. not relating to, composed of, or involving just two things. "Aristotelian ontology is nonbinary on the second level in that it allows for degrees of being"
2. denoting, having, or relating to a gender identity that does not conform to traditional binary beliefs about gender, which indicate that all individuals are exclusively either male or female. "the novelist identifies as nonbinary""
The video ends.
End ID.]
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eufezco · 4 months
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THE MUSE
Benedict needs to practice female form. Naked female form. And who better to help him than his lifelong friend?
Benedict x fem!reader (smut with plot, friends to lovers) + no use of y/n. english isn't my first language (!)
Benedict didn't know how to ask you.
You had been friends for a long time, your families were practically one. Always so united, your mamas took walks every afternoon, gossiping about the ton and your fathers had been friends since childhood. You and Benedict were bound to meet.
You and he grew up together. You were friends with his siblings, you had held sleepovers with his sisters and won cricket matches against his brothers. Lady Violet Bridgerton loved you like a daughter and your mother loved Benedict like a son.
But your friendship with him had always been special.
When you were twelve, you ran away together to camp on the riverbank, just because Benedict wanted to draw the moon reflecting in the water at night. The following year, despite the scolding you received for your river adventure, you and Benedict sneaked onto private land just to pluck a few petals from the summer sunflowers to get him the perfect shade of yellow.
You and Benedict were very close. Of course, there had always been rumors about what kind of relationship you two had and that Lady Whistledown had only added more fuel to the fire writing about you two in her pamphlets. You and him never cared about that, and neither your families but it was true that you two have had to face some uncomfortable conversations with them about it.
That's why Benedict didn't know how to ask you. You had a lot of trust in each other, you had always supported his artistic vocation but perhaps this was too much.
—Oh, thank God you've come. I am in need of a model —. It was the first thing Benedict said to you when you entered his studio. The maid closed the door behind you, leaving you alone with him. Thank goodness the Bridgertons' service was very discreet, if anyone found out that you and him were alone in a room it would cause quite a scandal.
—Good evening to you too, Benedict.
—My apologies. Good evening —. He leaned to kiss your cheek.— I need a model —. He let you know one more time.
—How have you been? Very stressed from what I can tell —. You tried to have a normal conversation with him before you paid attention to what he required.
—Indeed.
You sighed. —Well, what is it? I thought we were going for a walk.
He nodded. —We can go outside later. But I need to get this done by tomorrow and I feel like I'm losing my mind.
—And...?
—I need practice female form.
You slowly nodded. You were aware that Benedict had been recently attending this art academy, you were happy that he was finally able to pursue his passion and you couldn't deny that within the characteristic desperation of the artists, he looked very attractive. Benedict's hair was a mess, his white shirt was half-open, his sleeves were rolled up. He would never have allowed himself be seen in society like that and you were grateful because otherwise he would have all the girls after him.
—And you want me to...?
—Pose for me.
You weren't quite sure how to do it but it seemed easy and fun. All the times he had drawn you, he had done it when you were distracted, reading, having tea with his sisters... The pencil moved effortlessly across the paper when he saw you laughing with Daphne or playing with the cards that Colin had brought back from his trip to Spain. He was already too embarrassed to admit each time he drew you and Anthony teased him by saying that if he didn't propose to you, he would show you his drawings, and Benedict's heart skipped a beat because he knew that his older brother was not known for being a joker.
Benedict still didn't know how he was going to ask you, maybe it was better to just let it out.
—And what shall I do? Just stand here? Like this? —You laughed and made a dramatic pose like the ones you saw in the paintings in the gallery you visited together.
—I need you to ...
Benedict swallowed nervously. He looked down at your dress and then directly into your eyes. You raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to finish. You also looked at your dress to see if there was something wrong with it.
—Benedict I don't think I understand what you are trying to say—
—I need to practice naked female form.
Benedict immediately noticed your horrified face. He wanted to go back seconds ago when he hadn't even asked but if it wasn't you, who would it be? —I will not draw your face. No one will know it is you. It will be purely professional, I just need a few minutes.
You bit the inside of your cheeks and decided to trust him when he said that it would be for professional purposes only. The unfinished nude sketches that made your cheeks burn when you saw them as you entered his studio showed you that Benedict found no inspiration in the bodies of the academy models. After a nervous swallowing, you nodded and Benedict's face lit up. He hugged you but you didn't have time to hug him back because he quickly went to prepare the canvas.
—Is the door locked? —You asked him as you shed the little jacket that covered your shoulders along with your gloves. Benedict rushed off to lock it and before he returned to his position behind the canvas. You called his name and gulped, your hands failing in their attempts to unzip your own dress. —May I please get some help?
—Oh, yes, of course. My apologies.
Benedict stood behind you, his fingers brushing the skin on your back as he began to slowly unzip it until the dress slid down your body and fell at your feet. Benedict felt like he had to look away, as if in a few seconds you would not be completely exposed to his eyes. He offered you his hand to help you get up on a small pedestal that he had in his studio. Once you got rid of your underwear, you felt vulnerable but not as vulnerable as when Benedict ran his eyes over your body from his position and with the paintbrush already in his hand.
He let out all the air he had in his lungs, he couldn't take his eyes off you. Benedict could not deny that he had imagined it on many occasions, but reality far surpassed his imagination.
—What... What should I do, Benedict? —You hugged yourself.
—Put your arms down and stand like that. You look perfect, darling.
Your cheeks burned after that. You did as he said. His brow was slightly furrowed in concentration as his eyes went from the canvas to you and back to the canvas. Benedict asked you to turn around and he squeezed his eyes tightly after seeing your bare ass. Purely professional, this was purely professional, he had to remind himself.
Benedict grabbed a wooden chair and walked over to you. Your heart skipped a beat once he was so close to your naked body and he felt the exact same. He placed the chair next to you and invited you to sit on it. He nodded slowly when you did, focusing on the new position of your body. Benedict went back behind the canvas and made a few sketches.
He cleared his throat. —Would it be possible if you... Could you spread your legs?
Your cheeks grew hot and you squeezed your thighs together.
The knot you had in your stomach got tighter and you felt your chest rise and fall slowly thanks to your deep breathing. You straightened your back in the chair and you did as Benedict asked. You felt the air of the room caressing you in that warm and wet area and he held his breath, his chest puffing out as your legs slowly opened for him.
—You are beautiful, darling. Do not be ashamed —. Every new inch he discovered of your body made you look more perfect in his eyes. It was as nice to see you as it was to paint you.
Your cheeks grew even hotter but this time it wasn't just your cheeks, your whole body was in flames starting with the area between your legs that was so exposed to his eyes.
—Could we try another position?
You nodded, relieved, you were sure it was painfully obvious the way you had gotten wet and you just hoped he was busy enough to not notice.
He dropped the paintbrush and got up from the stool on which he was sitting. Benedict felt the knot in his stomach grow tighter with each step he took closer to your naked body. You moved in the chair out of nervousness. Benedict leaned slightly over you. —May I? —He asked before touching your leg. His voice made you shiver, he was so close, you felt his hand brush against the skin of your thigh. You nodded and looked up at him while he repositioned your leg. Benedict's eyes meet yours, so helpless, his lifelong friend, was that innocence in your eyes, or was that...?
Lust.
Your hand grabbed the back of Benedict's head and pressed his lips against yours. His eyes widened in surprise but immediately after, his hands went to cup your cheeks as he fell to his knees in front of you. You opened your legs so he could place himself between them and be closer to you. The shameless hands of your friend traveled down your neck until they reached your breasts. You moaned against his mouth once he gave them a gentle squeeze, the soft palm of his hand brushing against your nipples.
Benedict left a trail of soft kisses from your cheeks to your collarbones and your breasts. He took one in his mouth as his hand played with the other, his tongue moving in circles around your nipple and sucking on it at the same time. Your breathing quickened and your lips parted to let out soft moans when Benedict's teeth brushed your sensitive nipple.
He let go with a pop sound and watched you gasp for air. Benedict placed his hands on the inside of your thighs and caressed your skin there before he slowly pushed them to open even further. His hands prepared you for him, his eyes asked for your permission. You nodded and Benedict flashed you a smile, that was all he needed. He peppered your thighs with kisses, taking small bites and kissing your sore skin afterwards. Your breathing deepened as his mouth got closer to where you needed him the most. He was so close he could smell you and oh Lord, his dick got hard as a rock at that moment.
You took a sharp breath when he licked from your entrance to your clit and savored your juices in his mouth. The image was completely sinful, his blue eyes were locked on you while his lips sucked on your bundle of nerves, his hands forced your legs to stay open for him. Your head was thrown back, your mouth was open in a perfect "O" form, your fingers digging into his scalp. Once he noticed the desperation in the way your hips rolled against his mouth, two of his fingers entered you easily. You stifled a loud moan, throwing a hand over your mouth.
Benedict hummed, sending vibrations to your clit.
—Talk to me. How does this feel? —He required.
—So good. It feels... —You bit down your lower lip, his fingers sank deeper. —It feels like heaven.
He was satisfied with your answer.
Benedict fucked you with his fingers until you had to grab his wrist to get him to stop, it was too much. Your legs closed around his head but his lips were still attached to your clit and he didn't stop until he heard how your moans turned into whines and cries, not until he noticed how your back arched off the chair and your chest rose and fell uncontrolled thanks to your panting. Benedict didn't stop, not until he felt how your pussy was clenching so hard that almost pushed his fingers out of you and he heard you moan his name one last time as your grip on his hair tightened.
He gave you all the time you needed to catch your breath, kissing your legs and intertwining his fingers with yours while you came down from your high. Benedict's blue eyes were locked on you making every effort to later recall every single part of you.
—How are you feeling, darling? —Benedict stood on his feet and held your hands so that you would stand up as well. Before you could answer his question, you both realized how your legs were shaking and laughed. At the same time, you felt Benedict's grip on your hands grow stronger to keep you from falling.
Benedict leaned in and kissed your lips in the sweetest possible way. The tickling sensation in your body that you felt when you were naked in front of him had turned into a different kind of tickling, now focused on your stomach. It was so familiar, you had felt it so many times when you looked at him but now, with his lips on yours and his hands treating you with so much affection and care, it was different.
You could confirm that it was not only lust but also love.
You hummed against his lips. —Wait, did you finish your drawing?
Benedict shook his head. —But, please, do not worry about that. I will help you get dressed —. You frowned confused and he gave a quick kiss to your lips so, as he had told you, you would not worry. —I can finish later. There's no way I'm forgetting your body, my dear.
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aligned-starz · 5 months
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Crying in the Courtyard - Theodore Nott
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⋆。°✩Pairing : theodore nott x fem!reader
Warnings : fluff/light angst, happy ending, use of y/n
Summary : reader finds something out about her crush.
Song : Crying In the Chapel - Elvis Presley⋆。°✩
Word Count : 2,210
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"So, did you find out? Is he seeing someone?" You gushed in a hushed tone, fisting your Slytherin friend's robes in your hand as you pulled her in, anxious to hear what she has to say.
"Y/n! Calm down, you're going to rip off my bloody buttons. But yes, I did hear something from Blaise." Pansy Parkinson, a friend you hadn't expected to make, replied with a sigh, her expression mirroring your own anxiety. You held your breath, waiting for her next words, knowing deep down that your suspicions were about to be confirmed.
"Y/n..." She trails off, looking for words to explain the news. You met her eyes, a small realization dawning that your suspicions had been correct. 
"I'm sorry. There was talk in the air that Theodore had been seeing someone, and Blaise confirmed it for me," Pansy started, her voice tinged with sympathy as she glanced away, almost as if she was shielding her eyes from your reaction. "Says that he's crushing on a girl, and we believe it to be Daphne."
Your heart sank as her words registered, but another thought flashed in your mind. Blaise, with his charming smile and smooth demeanor, had always seemed to have an affinity for Daphne. You couldn't help but wonder if his confirmation of Theodore's crush was influenced by his own feelings for her.
"Greengrass? Doesn't Blaise like Daphne Greengrass?" 
Your curiosity sparked, and a deep longing for an answer, an answer that may prove that there's still a chance that Nott could be yours. 
"Yes, he does. And Daphne likes another Slytherin boy, like Theo. The two have been teased before, but they had previously mentioned that they're just friends. Maybe something had developed? Theodore also mentioned that the girl he liked may have liked him as well, and Blaise saw them laughing together after class. So, if we connect the information together.." 
Your heart felt as though as it had been hollowed out as Pansy dropped the bombshell. Theodore Nott, the enigma that had captured your thoughts and dreams, was supposedly entangled in a relationship. You leaned against the hall wall, the cold stone offering little solace as you tried to process the news, mind full with a whirlwind of confusion and hurt.
"I'm truly sorry, Y/n," Pansy's voice softened, her usually sharp features softening with genuine sympathy. "I was really rooting for the two of you to become a thing."
Her eyes, normally filled with a mischievous glint, now held a hint of sadness as she spoke, as if she shared in your disappointment. It was a rare moment of vulnerability from Pansy, one that made you realize just how much she valued your friendship.
As Pansy's voice faded into the background, you found yourself lost in a sea of memories, each one a painful reminder of what could have been. You remembered the stolen glances and whispered conversations, the moments shared between the two of you that had ignited a spark of something more, moments where you couldn't take your eyes off one another.
Maybe it was all in your head? It was only you who felt that way. No, he had felt that way for a different girl, not just any girl, Daphne Greengrass. You could never compare, oh how foolish you felt.
"Y/n, are you alright?" She placed a hand on your shoulder, bringing you back from your thoughts. You looked up at her, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.
"Yes, I'm ok. I expected this, so.." Your eyebrows furrowed in anger, anger at yourself for falling so stupidly.
Before Pansy could see you break down, you decided to leave. You feel so stupid for feeling like this, and you couldn't have someone else see you like this.
"I've got class so um, thank you Pansy." You stammered and started to walk away from the girl, leaving her confused and concerned. 
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As the day wore on, Y/n found herself struggling to maintain her composure. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes at the most inconvenient moments, like droplets of rain in a storm. In Potions class, she buried her face in her textbook, pretending to study as she blinked back the tears that blurred her vision. Tears all caused by the boy who sat at the back of the class, who she refused to even spare a glance at now. But the ache in her chest only intensified with each passing moment, a relentless reminder of the pain she could not escape.
So she stood up abruptly in class, her sudden movement capturing Snape's attention like a disturbance in the otherwise calm atmosphere.
"Do you need a moment, Ms. L/n?" his voice was cold and clipped, his gaze piercing as he scrutinized her.
Y/n met his gaze, her eyes watery but determined. She nodded silently, not daring to speak as she fought to control the storm of emotions raging within her. Snape's expression remained impassive, a faint hint of impatience flickering in his eyes as he waited for her response.
"Take all the time you need," he said curtly, his tone dismissive as he turned his attention back to his lesson.
"Thank you, professor." With a heavy heart, Y/n nodded once more, her resolve hardening in the face of his indifference. With one last glance at her teacher, she turned on her heel and strode out of the classroom, leaving behind a lingering sense of unease in her wake.
Theodore Nott, who had been witnessing the whole situation, was confused beyond belief. She was alright this breakfast, she had been chattering and smiling beautifully as usual with her friends. What made her so distressed? So distressed to the point she wouldn't even spare a glance in his way?
The boy raised his hand, ignoring the looks from his friends, and excused himself from class. Though Snape's questioning gaze unsettled him, he was free to go. And the moment that Snape had nodded, the boy was off running after the girl of his dreams.
Finally, she reached the courtyard, her sanctuary amidst the chaos of her emotions. Leaning against the cold stone wall, she allowed herself to surrender to her grief. Each soft sob echoed off the walls, a symphony of heartache that seemed to consume her entirely.
Lost in her misery, she didn't hear the approaching footsteps until it was too late. She hastily wiped away her tears, trying to compose herself as she heard someone round the corner.
"Y/n?"
She froze, all the blood draining from her face at the recognition of his voice.
From all the people that could have seen her at a state like this, why did it have to be him? She felt a weight of dread as his presence lingered from behind her.
She slowly turned around, looking at Theo through her red puffed-up eyes. His eyes softened and he kneeled down to sit beside her, his expression filled with concern and something else, something she couldn't quite decipher.
"Tesoro? Are you alright?" His voice was gentle, a soothing melody amidst the chaos of her thoughts.
Forcing a smile, she nodded weakly, unable to meet his gaze. "I'm fine, Theodore. Just... just a bit tired. It's been a bad day."
But he wasn't fooled by her facade. Stepping closer, he tilted his head at the sight of how broken-hearted you looked, and in his own chest, he felt a pang of pain. "You don't have to pretend with me, Y/n. I can see that something's wrong."
The vulnerability in his eyes shattered the last of her resolve, and she broke down before him, the truth tumbling from her lips in a rush of emotion. "The boy I like... he doesn't like me back," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper as she stared down at her hands, unable to meet Theodore's gaze.
The pang in Theodore's heart deepened, now with a mix of jealousy and seething anger. Who would make such a warm and bella ragazza, cry like this?
"Well, that's his loss," Theodore said, his tone casual yet tinged with a hint of something deeper. "Because if it were up to me, I'd never let someone as incredible as you slip through my fingers."
Y/n's eyes widened in astonishment, her heart skipping a beat at his words. "Theodore..." she began, her voice barely a whisper.
Y/n couldn't help but glance at him, a mixture of confusion and curiosity in her eyes. "You think so?" she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
Nott leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over her ear as he whispered, "Of course. Anyone who can't see how incredible you are doesn't deserve you."
He pulled away to look into her eyes, bringing his hand up to wipe away the stubborn tear that fell from her eye.
"Do you remember that time when I was feeling so lost and alone?" he began, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on her cheek. "I tried to push you away, but you refused to leave my side. You stayed with me, even when I didn't deserve it. You're such a kind and loving soul, your soul made mine feel love again like it had never felt before."
Before she could dwell on the thought, He continued as he cupped her face with his hand, his tone growing more teasing with each word. "And besides, if this boy doesn't appreciate you, then he's clearly not worth your time," he declared, a mischievous glint dancing in his stormy eyes. "I mean, he must be pretty stupid to let someone like you cry tears of heartbreak. Che idiota è quel ragazzo."
Y/n couldn't help but laugh at his playful jab, the tension between them easing as she felt the weight of Theodore's words lift from her shoulders. In that moment, surrounded by his warmth and the teasing sparkle in his eyes, she dared to believe that perhaps, just perhaps, he had loved her back.
"There it is, that beautiful smile," Theo remarked, his heart swelling at the sight of her radiant expression. He couldn't help but feel a surge of affection as he watched the way her cheeks popped out when she laughed, prompting him to playfully pinch one with his hand as he joined in her laughter.
But as the symphony of their laughter faded into a comfortable silence, Theodore found himself unable to tear his gaze away from hers. His eyes wandered down to her lips, drawn like a magnet to their soft curve, and he felt a familiar warmth spreading through him, igniting a longing he couldn't ignore.
In that lingering moment of silent connection, Theodore's heart pounded in his chest, his breath catching as he felt an irresistible pull towards her. Without a second thought, he leaned in closer, his lips gently brushing against hers in a tender, hesitant kiss.
Time seemed to stand still as the world fell away around them, leaving only the sensation of her lips against his, sending sparks of electricity coursing through his veins. In that stolen moment, all doubts and fears melted away, replaced by an overwhelming rush of emotion as Theodore finally dared to seize the opportunity he had longed for.
And as he deepened the kiss, his fingers tangling in her hair, Theodore knew with absolute certainty that he had found where he belonged – in the embrace of the one who had captured his heart from the very beginning.
"Wait wait!" Y/n mumbled against his lips, pulling away with a concerned look upon her face. He looked up at her in regret, a fear that the kiss didn't feel the same for her made him gulp.
"What about Daphne?"
The regret on his face morphed into confusion.
"What about.. Daphne?" He repeated.
"Yeah, aren't you guys like a thing?" She hesitated, searching for answers in his eyes as she furrowed her eyebrows and wrapped her arms around herself uncomfortably.
"What? Daphne likes Blaise."
"Daphne likes Blaise." She repeated, a small smile forming upon her face at the realization.
"Wait, how about you? Who's the boy you said that didn't like you back?"
Y/n laughed out at the realization, ignoring Theo's confused face which made her laugh even more. Butterflies danced in her stomach at the feeling of relief, the joy she felt making her heart beat quickly.
"You! Nott, you were the boy who didn't like me back! Blaise told Pansy that you and Daphne were a thing!" She watched his face for a reaction, and at first he was still confused, but as he realized, his mouth was agape as he said "Ah."
The two soon shared their laughter again, Theo apologizing for the tears he had accidentally made her cry, "All along I was the fool who made you cry," he admitted, his tone soft yet tinged with regret. "I'm sorry, il mio tesoro, if only I had known. How can I make it up to you?"
A playful smirk danced on his lips as he pulled her in closer, his gaze drifting down to her grinning lips.
"I don't know if you can ever make it up to me, Nott. You hurt me pretty bad." She playfully said, wiping away her already dried tears. "Well actually maybe, you can start by kissing me again, you fool."
With a chuckle, Theodore leaned in, capturing her lips in a sweet and passionate kiss, knowing in that moment that he had finally found where he belonged – in the arms of the one who had stood by him through tears and laughter, through every trial and triumph.
⋆。°✩
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Hi! This is my first ever upload on tumblr, so it may not be perfect but hey who cares I got inspired by a personal experience! If you notice any grammatical mistakes, no you didn't. Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! xx
[my masterlist⋆。°✩]
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d4yl1ghts · 5 months
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pleasure
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anthony bridgerton x wife, fem!reader
summary: after a game of pall mall, anthony realises he has been neglecting his wife
warnings: nudity, orgasm, cunnilingus, p in v, fingering, praise kink, expeditionist kink, breeding kink, semi-public sex, breast play, unprotected sex, allusions to anxiety (maybe), arranged marriage, argument, dom!anthony, sub!reader
-
You sighed to yourself as you nervously wrung your fingers out in front of yourself. You were in the carriage on the way to your arranges husband’s manor. You always became anxious when meeting people that you did not know well even if you had already met them once before. Truly, you adored Anthony’s family but it was still nerve inducing.
Your husband sat opposite you, gazing peacefully out of the window. This was how your carriage rides were normally spent. In silence. You are typically quiet anyway and for Anthony it would depend on his mood. However, even when the two of you were alone he refused to speak to you.
Suddenly, the carriage halted and Anthony assisted you out of the carriage but that was the only touching you would ever do. The only night you both had spent together was your wedding night. You made your way to the entrance, hanging behind Anthony a bit. “Mother.”, Anthony hung his head in greeting. “Lady Bridgerton.”, you copied your husband’s actions. She smiled and stated: “Call me Violet, Y/N.”
She then guided the two of you inside. You stood off to the side as Anthony’s siblings welcomed him. Eloise noticed you standing quietly and walked over to you. “Hello, Y/N. It’s nice to see you again.”, she said. “You as well, Eloise.”, you gently smiled. Your eyes strayed to Anthony’s figure and so did Eloise’s. “Has he been annoying you recently? He certainly annoyed me when I lived with him.”, she questioned. “Of course. He wouldn’t be himself if he wasn’t annoying.”, you replied. Eloise laughed slightly and you laughed along with her but it was almost in spite of your husband. You hated him but at the same time you loved him. He certainly hated you.
Benedict then led you all outside for a game of pall mall. You had never played it before and so Colin taught you the rules. “How shall we choose who gets which mallet? I think the guest should get the first choice.”, Benedict stated as he looked to you. Anthony reached out before Benedict hit his hand away. “Not you, Anthony. I’m talking to Y/N.”, he said annoyed. You noticed Anthony’s hand attempt to grab the black one before and so you choose that one just to aggravate him. “Great choice, Y/N!”, Colin chuckled. You turned to look at Anthony and saw his brooding look and tried to contain your giggles.
“Everybody get your mallets.”, Benedict said as they all raced to get their mallet. All except Anthony who was left to the pink one. He huffed in annoyance and you went to stand beside Eloise. “Look at Anthony. There’s practically steam coming out of his ears.”, you laughed. Anthony heard his name and turned to glare at you. You shut up.
“Y/N, you can have the first hit.”, Daphne offered. You slowly walked up and tried to ignore how everyone was focusing on you. You carefully aimed and then hit it. It was just wide of the goal. “That was awful.”, you stated. “Nobody gets it in first try, Y/N. In fact, that was perhaps the best first attempt I have ever seen.”, Daphne responded reassuringly. You turned to move out of the way for the next person’s go and made eye contact with Anthony who looked exceedingly angry compared to before. His eyes bore into you and he looked as if he was trying to decipher something.
It was now Anthony’s turn. He managed to hit your ball onto the opposite side of the field. You rolled your eyes as you began your stroll over. Anthony offered to go with you. You ignored him and continued. He followed anyway. You finally found the ball and noticed your husband. “Why are you following me?”, you blatantly asked. “You’re my wife.”, he simply stated. “Am I?”, you replied. He tilted his head in confusion. “Yes. How would you not be?”
“You do not treat me as such.”, you continued. “We have only ever once been intimate. At our wedding night. You barely even touch me, never mind intimately.”, you sighed as tears pooled in your eyes. He gazed at you. “Is that truly how you feel?”
You nodded, unable to form words. Tears slid down your cheeks. “I did not mean to make you feel as such. I didn’t want to hurt you. I am not made to be a husband or father. I am not made to love or to be loved.”, he responded as water filled his eyes. “But Anthony, you’ve been a father for your whole life. You raised your siblings and you did a great job at it.”, you stared at him with a sad expression. He looked up at you and took in your understanding tone. He gently caressed your face.
You gazed into his eyes. You were both so vulnerable. Anthony’s lips crashed onto yours and you sighed with content. You pulled away for air. “Anthony, please.”, you moaned as you moved your hands into his hair. “Please what?”, he asked teasingly. “Touch me. We have missed a year of this and are yet to make an heir so fuck me like it.”, you bravely admitted. He smirked before inserting two fingers up your dress and into your cunt. He let out a sigh as he felt how wet you were. “Good girl.”, he praised.
You moaned at his praise. “Need more.”, you mumbled. He leant down and pushed his face up your dress and began kitten licking your pussy. You gently guided his head against you. He still had his fingers pumping in and out of you as he licked up and down your slick folds. He felt your walls clench against his tongue and let out a sound that sent vibrations down your cunt. You grabbed the edge of your dress to ease the pressure building up within you.
You felt yourself cum as Anthony made sure to swallow it all. He then left from beneath your dress and licked the last of your slick from his lips. He moved his hands to your corset and his eyes looked to you for permission. You nodded breathlessly. He delicately removed your garments with expertise.
He hastily removed his breeches and released his erection. He bowed down to lick your hardening nipples and he even abruptly bit them. “Anthony…”, you moaned. He heard your desperate cry and lined himself up with your entrance. Slowly, he entered you and allowed you time to adjust to him. He then began to thrust in and out of you. You grinded against him, causing him to fasten his pace as he knew you wanted more.
He rested his head against your breasts and gently kissed them, occasionally leaving love bites. Anthony then adapted his position to reach deeper into you. He felt you tighten around his length and his cock began to twitch at the sudden pressure against him. You let the euphoria take you away and Anthony soon followed. He made sure to continue pushing into you as he came. After all, you had wanted to make an heir. He groaned before carefully and slowly removing himself from you. He rolled off of you and kissed your temple as he moved to hold you.
“Dear, we should probably head back. It has taken us a while to find the ball.”, he chuckled and you tiredly laughed. He put his breeches back on and helped you into your dress. He attempted to do your corset up but he only knew how to undo them, not tie them up and so it was slightly loose. He only hopes his family wouldn’t notice. You started your journey back to the pall mall match with Anthony’s help as your legs were slightly wobbly.
Your hair looked similar to as it had before. Luckily, you had requested your maid to only curl it and add a pin (you weren’t one for all the fuss of doing your hair) and so it was nothing extravagant so it was easy to set it back to how it was. As soon as you arrived back, you realised the game had come to an end. “Who won?”, Anthony asked. “Colin.”, Benedict replied. “Why did you take so long?”, Colin questioned. “You could have won, brother. Actually, Y/N, you could have won.”, he added. Violet came outside to check on everyone as she had heard the conversation. It didn’t take her long to realise what had happened. She glanced at the steady hold Anthony had on you, the slight tone in your cheeks and your legs that looked as if they would collapse at any moment if Anthony’s hold was not so strong. She smiled to herself. She knew that the arranged marriage would work. You two were meant for each other, no matter how you wished to deny it.
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igotanidea · 6 months
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Just right: Anthony Bridgerton x reader
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part 1 to too much
part 2 : not enough
part 3 : almost there
part 4: Stuck
A/N: I am NOT sorry for all the possible spellings and punctuation mistakes there. It's been almost 2 months since "Stuck" and I am FREAKING OUT posting this while crying because it's over. Enjoy and thank you <3
Warnings: end of series, 4082 words (!!)
***
He felt like a fool.
Reverting to his old ways instead of showing all the emotions coursing through his veins.
Turning around and walking away, leaving her alone, when all he wanted was to fall to her knees and beg for forgiveness.
But how would the viscount Bridgerton look, while doing so, observed by all the ton, including the two biggest gossipers in the person of lady Featherington and lady Danburry?
Seemed like whatever he would choose to do, he would end up being a dolt.
“Anthony!”
He didn’t even flinch hearing someone calling him, nor recognize the voice. Too stubborn to stop he only continued his marching pace, hoping for the love of god that whoever dared to try and approach him in this furibund mood would get discouraged.
Not very gentlemanly of him.
“Anthony!”
He quickened his pace.
“Anthony Bridgerton!”
“What?” he almost spat spinning around on his heel, leaving a dent in the ground, taking on his most stern expression. If his obvious ignorance of the caller was not a deterrent perhaps the frown and fiery eyes would.
Supposedly it might have worked on anyone else, but soon enough Anthony transformed from the head of a family and the viscount into a little child, upon noticing that it was his mother, exhorting him to the halt.
“Mother…” he muttered looking at the ground, having only confirmed his previous theory of his role in this entire disarray.
“Let us take a walk.” Violet smiled brightly taking her eldest’s arm and imposing a walking rather than soldierly pace. “What did you Anthony?” the gentle expression never left her face even when she was scoffing her unmanageable child.
“Why would you think it was me that--?” the viscount took the last resort to protect his own pride, but the tightening grip on his forearm betrayed the fact that Violet knew the entire backstory, behind the marital disagreement.
“I raised you. I daresay it gives me enough knowledge to not answer your question. “
“If you let me –"
“Don’t, Anthony. Y/N has been nothing less but charming since the beginning.. "
"That's the way to describe her--" the man muttered
"Strong-willed and persuasive, surely, you wouldn’t take anything but, but charming nonetheless. So do tell me so we could remedy the damage before it arises further.”
“Shall you mistake me for Daphne and ask about my feelings—”
“Anthony Bridgerton!”
“I am a man, mother. A head of the family.”
“Clearly said head has been missing guidance in the right direction.”
“Mother!”
“Do not raise your voice on me son.”
“Apologies…”
“Good.” Violet beamed serenely “Do you think me so little knowledgeable to ask your emotions? I do not. I’m merely asking for facts, which you clearly have such a strong inclination to.”
Anthony mumbled something once more.
“do you wish you lose your wife, viscount?”
“What?” such possibility never crossed his mind. Y/N’s anger, her hurt, pain and merciless avoidance – yes. Abandonment and lack of her presence nearby? No. She would never… She could never. Lord above, who was she thinking she was? A woman married into a noble family wanting to cause a scandal by resenting her husband?
And once again, while his heart should have been shattered and humble enough to clarify the turmoil, the sudden blood rush turned into clenched fists and ire. All because he could not bare the thought of losing her for good, however hiding behind all the negativity was easier. It was something he was used to for years.
Nevertheless it was impossible to deny the facts further. It was her influence that caused the improbable openness in his soul was the exact same reason of his spirit bleeding.
And he needed her back.
Each minute without her was a minute lost. A minute less in the so very limited time they were given as a miracle on earth.
“What do I do?” he raised gaze at his mother, now truly looking like a lost man. Man in love, who was probably not the most romantic and gentle one with words, but still deeply infatuated with the woman who gave her whole life to him.
“Do not fret my dear. We shall alleviate the situation immediately.”
***
Y/N’s feelings were beyond anything possible to describe with words.
There she was, with her feet rooted to the ground, wishing for – and willing to accept – apologies but met with the harsh reality of the stone wall of Anthony’s behavior.
Accompanied by Eloise, smirking like the know-it-all she was, and Benedict with the compassion written all over his face.
Presumably, shall they not be there, the young lady viscountess Bridgerton would abandon all the pretenses of a woman of her position and begun blubbering in the middle of the promenade. However, the most mischievous of Bridgerton siblings acted with wit and sense, involving their dear sister-in-law in a challenging conversation, capably hauling her away from prying eyes and gossipmongers, preventing any possible rumors about incongruousness.
***
For unmistakable reasons she was not in the mood to see their ludicrous older brother and with the sudden disappearance of Violet, Benedict and Eloise took the privilege to invite Y/N back to the Bridgerton’s family house and extend the invitation for indefinite period of time. After all, Anthony might have been the head of the family as he proudly announced to anyone who was willing to disobey his wished and/or not listen, but Benedict was the oldest bachelor of the house and was more than willing to make a few decisions of his own to finally be seen as something more than merely second son and waiting for his time. 
***
Violet returned home few hours later and accepted the presence of her daughter-in-law with a mysterious smile and not a single word of objection. As amazing and uplifting as such approach might have been, it was also highly surprising. Viscountess Bridgerton was well known for her mitigating skills and tendency to scotch conflicts almost immediately, especially in her own family.
And it raised a lot of questions and secrets that Y/N and Eloise tried to uncover spending the night in the former’s bedchambers, talking for hours, creating conspiracy theories and preparing for whatever may have been coming.
Cause the fact that Violet was going to help her oldest son in winning back his wife’s attention was more than conspicuous.
Only that Y/N, who was forgiving and accepting at the begging was slowly turning cold at the fact that her husband could not simply apologize but rather resorted to some intricate ways of regaining her favor.
After a year of marriage, should he not know her enough for independent ideas and not seek his mother's avail?
***
First thing happening in the very early morning, was Y/N’s most trusted servant humbly asking for her lady’s time, which was bizarre and – as any other family may have deemed – inadequate and even shaming.
Moreover, any other house would quickly discard the commoner showing at the mighty's doorstep but Bridgertons were prone to discarding rules in private and with those who earned their trust. Be it servants or nobles. And Y/N was no exception to the rule, welcoming her maid with a smile upon seeing the person from her own household.
“My lady.” The girl bowed so low, she almost touched the floor with her nose.
“My dear Laura, please stand up, there is really no need for that-“ Y/N grabbed her hands and forced the girl up. “I assure you that-“
“But Lady Violet and Miss Bridgerton –“
“I assure you that they do not expect you to kiss the ground they walk on.” Y/n almost laughed at Laura’s discombobulation. Poor one was doing everything in her power to not make her lady embarrassed and act like a good and obedient servant, almost expecting Violet or Eloise to be cruel and judgmental.
“Dear Y/N, did you give your helpers the idea that we are some sort of tyrants?” Violet send her daughter-in-law a honest smile, which immediately got Laura’s reaction in the form of blushing.
“Lady Bridgerton I apologies if my appearance is the dishonor on-”
She didn’t even finish the sentence, met with Y/N, Violet’s and Eloise’s laugh and a polite look from more balanced Francesca sitting on the chaise longue.
“Do not fret, my girl, we are more than happy to welcome you in our household.”
“Tha-thank you my lady…”
‘Now I assume you came to talk to your lady, so we shall give you some privacy. Come girls, make haste for the matter to cover is of utmost delicacy.”
“And how shall you know it mamma?” Hyacinth almost twitched her ears, not really understanding much of why Y/N was with them rather than with Antony, but curious as a young girl could be.
“Precisely mamma, how shall you know?” Eloise, immediately picked up her sister’s question, only not so susceptible to extenuations.
“Eloise Bridgerton, I shall expect you to practice the bowing before your incoming debut in front of the queen. Daphne made quite an impression and –“
“Daphne was deemed diamond of the season and such title is below my ambition.”
“Regardless, you do not want to trip or slip do you?”
Eloise (and everyone else) obviously remembered what happened to Featherington’s sisters and the embarrassment so with a heavy, exaggerated sigh and one quick, sharp, bright look at Y/N Eloise left the room, followed by her mother and sisters.
And once the lady and her trusted eyes and ears of the house were alone, who could stop the two of turning a lot more unmindful of societal norms?
“My lady, the lord has been quite annoyed since the quarrel you lordships have had. He even refused to eat his favorite meal.” Laura confessed with blushing cheeks
“Are you to tell me that Prescott prepared the roasted pork for Anthony after he was so unjust towards the lady of the house? I shall have a word about a loyalty with him upon my return.” Y/N satirized wholeheartedly.
“When shall you return my lady? Seeing as that viscount is not the one to have a change of heart and admit his wrongdoing easily?”
“He will Laura. One way or another I am fairly convinced my husband may take a long way to do so and take the aid of his mother whilst deciding. It’s just I am not fully convinced if the apology made with cheating are worth accepting.”
“Oh! You took the lower route here my lady forgive the audacity.”
“Just the route of a woman who expect honesty from her man.”
“Fair enough I suppose. But shall you be agitated my lady I take it you do not wish to accept the viscount bestowment?”
“Bestowment?” Y/N frowned a little in confusion “and what shall that be?”
“I do not know, my lady. I am merely a messenger—”
“I believed you to be on my side Laura.”
“And I am, my lady! But one do not object the command of the lord, that is clearly ready to vent his anger on the first soul that happen to be unfortunate enough to be around.”
“My god, you are a prattler!” Y/N laughed “where is that gift in question? Cause since it is mine either way we might as well get a little curious, shall we? Would be such a shame to put it to waste.”
Laura stood up from her chair and started heading to the corridor, but Hyacynth was first to barge into the room carrying some parcel that was almost bigger than her.
“Y/N! Is this that gift from Anthony!?” clearly she was eavesdropping  “Can we take a look, please? It’s so big I wonder what it is? Come on, open it up! Open it up!”
“Curiosity killed the cat.” Eloise muttered but there was no denying she was equally curious as her sister.
Y/N only rolled  her eyes, inviting all the girls over and opening the box. Fishing out the most beautiful and definitely expensive new dress. The color was perfectly matching Y/N’s complexion and the material delicate yet durable – Anthony knew his wife and her adventurous tendencies.
“It’s so beautiful and elegant” Francesca whispered touching the dress with delight.
“So what, he think he can just buy her the garment and she will forgive him?” Eloise scoffed “Men are so simple minded and belittling of women!”
“Try it on, Y/N!” Hyacinth encouraged, almost jumping from excitement
“Do not try it on! This would be relenting!” Eloise objected.
“He made a gesture!”
“It’s not a gesture! It’s an attempt of buying her forgiveness!”
“Y/N!”
“Y/N?!”
“Quiet!” Y/N finally managed to break through the noise of two sisters. ““No offence girls, but this is my marriage and my decision. One I have to make by myself. So thank you “ she smiled brightly but with a hint of annoyance “for your positions on things, but I am perfectly capable of weighting the significance of the gift, on my conviction to forgive or not forgive him.”
“Uhm. My lady” Laura cleared her throat “I’d like to elaborate that the viscount also made an invitation to one special place….”
“Do not go Y/N!”
“Stop interfering Eloise! Y/N you have to go!”
“For heaven’s sake, Violet is truly a saint for surviving you two!” “Uhm. My lady” Laura cleared her throat “I’d like to elaborate that the viscount also made an invitation to one special place….”
“Do not go Y/N!”
“Stop interfering Eloise! Y/N you have to go!”
“For heaven’s sake, Violet is truly a saint for surviving you two!”
***
Anthony was waiting for her in the garden outside some estate she had no idea existed. After all, Y/N has spent her entire life in London, rarely being invited to the cottage. And in this case it could have been used a leverage, not that he was aiming for measuring forces and cold calculation.
No.
He was walking back and forth, almost trampling a path in the ground in a place where it should never be. Nervous enough to anxiously fiddle with his fingers like a lady before her debut entering the society. Hoping she would come. Wishing for any entity in heaven might want to listen that she would take this dress he send her as an expression of humility rather than boosting like a rooster. Praying that Eloise wasn’t there with her sharp tongue and unrestrained thoughts to discourage his beloved from accepting both the gift and the invitation.
The minutes turned to hours and even his father’s pocket watch refused to work with Anthony in this important moment. Having no regard to the poor flowers any other plants standing no chances against his heavy riding boots, the time seemed to stand still.
For whatever it was worth it, Anthony Bridgerton swore to himself that he would rather turn into a sack of boned waiting in this desolate place than walk away while there was still a glimmer of hope she might appear. He was done and fatigued with missed opportunities, poorly chosen and ill-spoken words.
It was never his intention to said all those atrocious words to her.
Too much.
Dear Lord.
Now that he was thinking about it, his heart was capering in a way that filled him with self-hatred. After all the pain he might have caused her during that little hurtful exchange while she did nothing more than be there for him. Even if he not exactly wished for it. Even if he himself didn’t know that her presence in his life was the best thing that happened since his father’s death. If not since forever.
Anthony wasn’t the one to believe in signs or any spiritual influence on earth, but the more he was dwelling on his own misery, the more deliberative of their first meeting he was becoming.
It was late lord Bridgerton’s death anniversary and as any other year – he separated himself from the rest of the family. To show how adamant his heart and mind was and to underline that this was nothing more than just another day in a line of any other similar ones. But the truth was, he wanted to visit his father’s grave alone without any possible disturbances or havoc that his younger siblings could have caused. None of them really knew Edmund Bridgerton the way Anothony did. The first born son, the heir to the title, deprived of his father’s guidance and presence and forced to take responsibility for the family in way too young age.
He needed to be by himself, cause god forbid anyone seeing him showing any signs of humanity and indulging in grief.
And his family knew and accepted it.
She didn’t.
Just a stranger, strolling by herself in the area, looking like a commoner, having no regards to the sanctity of the moment nor the place she found herself in.
And worse for her – spotting Anthony in the never-seen moment of vulnerability written all over his face.
“Lord Bridgerton” she bowed in a way that showed that the savage, Anthony took her for, actually had manners. And that he knew him, but this was not so unexpected.
He only grunted in response to annoyed by an unfortunate set of circumstances that worked against her. The viscount himself was not going to bow to a girl that was clearly a servant, with messy hair and in a dress that was far from anything a woman, even of lower position should be seen in.
“Don’t you have anywhere else to be, girl?” he muttered under his nose, throwing daggers with his eyes.
“I’m sorry my lord but-“
“You should be sorry. I am convinced your lady nor your lord will be pleased with the fact that their service wanders alone in an area that does not belong to them!”
“Service?” Y/N smirked looking at him with amusement and twinkling eyes. And Anthony with his youthful energy and virility could not miss the fact that she was actually pretty.
“Yes, service.” He hissed at her “now get out of here girl, before you get yourself in far more trouble from me and end up on the street!”
“I shall-“ she obviously was not going to let anyone maltreat her like that, but her acuity wore up that very moment. She noticed the weariness in viscount’s eyes, noticed the monument nearby, and realized what day of the month it was.
“Forgive me, my lord.” She bowed in respect “I shall be on my way. And I shall not mention this meeting to anyone, hopefully wishing for you to forget my impertinence.”
She was gone as fast as she appeared, and Anthony thought to never see her again.
Until the next rout Daphne was attending, where he actually did.
Immediately realizing the scope of his previous mistake, upon learning that the service girl was in fact Miss Y/L/N, the youngest daughter of Lord Y/L/N. And met with another look of those glistening eyes and amused face expression. Forced to accompany her for the evening, since apparently Lady Bridgerton and Lady Y/L/N has made some arrangements for the future.
He was thinking it was all just a coincidence back then, but now he came to conclusion that it must have been his father who send this girl into his life. Knowing better than him that she would turn his ways around, challenge him, test him patience mercilessly and yet – that she would be the one to love him unconditionally and whom he would love with all his broken and unperfect self.
And the burden of possibility of ruining it all for them was even more overwhelming.
He clasped his hands behind his back, walking shorter and shorter distances, turning back more and more often, stuck in his belief that he would stay here as long as she didn't show up, even if -
“Anthony.”
Viscount spun around so abruptly it almost caused him falling to the ground.
She came.
She truly came.
It was like meeting her all over again, back in time, back next to his father’s grave.
Only she wasn’t looking like a servant girl now.
She was wearing the dress he sent her, looking not only like a viscountess, but like a queen herself. His queen. His wife. His love. His everything.
Her skin was radiant due to the color of the material (just like Violet predicted), cheeks flushed, hair done in perfect curls surrounding her face, bright like a sun.
“Y/N….”
“It was so unwise on your part viscount to call upon me and invite me into a wild place a woman like me should never step foot on.” She said sternly, but the everlasting and never changing glistening of her eyes betrayed her true intention “and perilous, may I say? Far from the city? Lady travelling alone? So many hazards awaiting me on the way.”
“Benedict and Colin were following your post chaise.”
“Oh I knew I heard someone laughing on the way. But my coachman brushed my concerns off!”
“Did you really believed I would send my greatest treasure into the wild without proper security?” Anthony took a few steps forwards, reaching for her hands and placing gentle kiss on her knuckles.
“Your brothers?” Y/N let him show the courtesy, but raised eyes in skepticism of the words.
“Believe me my lady, you should never underestimate the man of the Bridgerton house.”
“In what aspect my lord?”
“In every aspect, dear.” He looked deep into her eyes.
“Why did you ask me to meet you here?” Y/N quickly averted her eyes, because Anthony’s gaze were so full of passion, love and genuine remorse and apology she found herself falling into his charms. And this couldn’t have been so easy for him. “You sister discounselled me on coming here.”
“And yet, you came my lady.” Anthony reached for her chin and slowly, gently and with tenderness turned her face towards him so that their eyes had to meet again.
“Anthony I –“
“My love, I am sorry.”
“this is not—”
“Let me speak” he hushed her, not breaking eye contact. “I asked you here, because this is the very place where my father asked for my mother’s hand. Where he pledged her his undying love, support and loyalty. And you, out of all people in the world, learned how much I cherish my father’s memory and his legacy.
“Anthony-“
“Therefore, here I am. Standing in front of you, expressing my deepest condolences-“
“Oh, dear lord, Tony!” she cried out in frustration “stop using the words you would say to me if Lady Whistledown were nearby! Tell me how you feel!”
How he felt was not with words.
How he felt was expressed by the way he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to his chest, capturing her lips in the searing but gentle kiss that conveyed more than any noble and dignified words of a lord could.
I love you.
By his strong arms encompassing her like a shelter from the storm.
I won’t ever let go of you.
By tender caress of her hair and back.
I will always cherish you.
By the way his lips were moving against her, whispering silent words understood only by two souls forevermore yearning for each other.
I am sorry.
She was the first one to pull back for air, reluctantly so.
“My love. My beloved.”
She smiled at him, connecting their foreheads, allowing his arms to tighten around her waist and waiting for what was coming next to assess the truth behind his words.
“Am I too much now?” she whispered
“You are always too much. To much for me to keep. To much for me to even wish and pray for. Too much of a blessing in my life. Too much in the best possible sense and—”
This time It was her who cut him off by a kiss, silencing anything else that might come from his lips. He was honest and sincere. And if he was trying to apologize by saying anything else and backing out on what he said back there she probably would not forgive him sensing manipulation. But this?
“I forgive you.” She whispered against his lips.
“Thank God.”
“Is this cottage inhabited or--?”
“No. It’s not. And I intend on taking advantage of it right this moment.” He grabbed her and carried inside bridal style, ready to not get back to London for at least a couple days.
(spoiler alert below)
I got a request for a fluff pregnancy fic.... <3
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lovebugism · 1 year
Note
“don’t you dare touch him” eddie x shy!reader
idk i need a situation where reader never really speaks up but she finally does when it comes to eddie because she loves him sm😭
thanks so much for your request! hope you like it!! — the one where eddie melts when his quiet gf sticks up for him in front of jason (shy!reader, fluff, 2.4k)
bug's summer fic fest ♡
The drive from Forest Hills to the arcade is spent with Lucas and Dustin bickering in the backseat and Eddie’s hand on your thigh.
“It’s been two years, and you still can’t beat my high score, Dusty Bun,” the former boy taunts. The nickname spills like venom from his smiling face. “Just give it up, okay? It’s not happening.”
Dustin grins back at him. It’s more so mischievous than it is taunting. His deep blue eyes narrow in a challenging squint. “You are so gonna be eating your words by the end of the night. When we leave, Princess Daphne is gonna be mine, alright? For good.”
Their arguing becomes background noise. With your cheek lolled against the hand you’ve got propped against the window, you’re pulled into the wispy lilac cloud your gaze is so heavily fixated upon. The sky billows lavender against a sea of pink and golden orange — a summer sunset so vivid you can taste it.
The only thing keeping you grounded is Eddie’s palm on your knee, wide and warm and all-consuming. His thumb rubs against your skin so softly you think it must be absentminded. It feels like static shock, anyway. He laughs quietly to himself, and his fingers tremble gently against you. This time they squeeze you with a newfound intention as he brings you back to him.
“What do you think, babe?” Eddie asks, pink mouth spread in a pearly white grin. His chocolate eyes glimmer with the golden hour sun as his gaze flits between yours and the road. “Think Dusty Bun has a chance here?”
You nod, scrunched nose and squinted eyes, silent in your support for the curly-headed boy who’s still yelling over Lucas in the back of the van.
“What about me?” he presses. And because he knows better than to give his quiet girl anything other than a yes or no answer, he follows quickly, “You think today’s the day I finally beat your Space Invaders high score?”
A beat passes. The momentary silence is filled with arguing boys, old tires on older asphalt, and Ozzy Osbourne’s “Crazy Train” spilling softly from the radio. A quiet smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. You purse the mischievous expression to the side as you turn away from him again.
Your non-answer makes him laugh. It sounds exactly like the colors of the sunset.
His beat-up van jerks when he puts it into park. The door on the side squeaks as the kids file out of it. Eddie’s does too, but you can’t hear it over him telling you to “sit tight.” 
You wait patiently in the passenger seat like you always do, smiling to yourself as the boy rushes around the hood to open the door for you. The hinges screech in protest. His wild curls billow in the wind as he smiles. “C’mon, sunshine. Our palace awaits.”
The group of you stand beneath the spinning neon sign he parked next to — glowing orange and white beneath a setting sun. Someone calls from across the parking lot, “Well, well, well. Look who it is.”
Your heads snap in the direction of the painfully familiar voice. 
Jason and the rest of his abnormally tall goons stand outside the new gym that just opened on the strip. The dark, vacant building wedged between The Palace and Family Video was no longer as scary as it used to be now that it was occupied. You were just hoping it’d be something more exciting. Forcing arcade nerds and gym bros into one spot feels like a crime.
“And they brought little miss wallflower, too,” Jason lilts with his pretty smile and straight teeth. His blonde hair is a darker shade of brown, damp with half-dried sweat. His lean form is unnaturally built underneath his white tank top and basketball shorts. 
It isn’t any wonder why he turned out to be such a raging douchebag. 
Someone so perfect needed at least one flaw.
“The gang’s all here, huh?” one of his other friends — Andy, you think — concurs from behind him, always in the boy’s shadow.
“Like what you see, fellas?” Eddie calls out from across the slab of pavement separating the group of you. He’ll never turn down an opportunity to take the piss out of the so-called jocks, all muscle and no brain. 
“What do we do when those assholes give us hell?” he’d often ask when you’ve had a particularly shitty day with them. “We give ‘em hell right back.”
Jason’s thin lips curl into a more mischievous smirk. His blue eyes are lighter in the golden sunlight, and they twinkle beneath the neon signs as he looks you up and down. “Yeah, actually,” he hums with his unabashed ogling. “I do.”
Mike’s lanky legs sidestep to stand ahead of you. He does it so swiftly, so instinctually, you don’t think he even really meant to do it. Despite the raven-haired boy halfway covering you, you cross your arms over your torso in a further attempt to keep yourself hidden. 
You feel so suddenly exposed in your frilly floral sundress — especially considering the only thing you wear to school is baggy jeans and baggier sweaters. You feel like you might as well be naked standing in front of them just now.
The younger boys stand on high alert as Eddie walks the short distance to Jason. The brief journey is made quicker when the blonde boy strides to meet him halfway. It’s a high school sort of standoff — neither particularly wanting to get physical because the real-life repercussions aren’t worth it. They just want to see who can piss each other off the most.
“She is pretty, isn’t she?” Eddie concedes with a grin, flashing you a brief glance over his shoulder. He turns away quickly at the sight of your wide, pleading eyes. He scrunches his nose in feigned sympathy. “I bet you’re real jealous, huh? Especially now that you’ve got nothing but your right hand keeping you company ever since Chrissy dumped your ass.”
“Watch it,” Jason warns through gritted teeth.
“I think I saw her riding around last week with Harrington, actually.”
The blonde boy’s sneakers scuff against the concrete as he takes a daring step closer. His piercing stare never wavers. “Don’t talk about Chrissy.”
“Don’t talk about my girl, and I won’t talk about yours,” Eddie retorts in lilt. And then, because he can’t help but twist the knife, he tilts his head to his shoulder and continues. “Well, I guess she’s not really yours anymore, is she?”
“I said don’t talk about Chrissy!” Jason repeats, louder than before, when he lets his anger get the best of him. One hand shoots up to shove at Eddie’s chest, using only enough force to make the boy stumble slightly back. 
While Dustin, Lucas, and Mike gear up for a fight, Eddie only laughs in response — big, boisterous, and boyish.
You don’t even realize you’re stepping in front of the group until you’re already doing it. The words seem to fly from your mouth without you even thinking about them. “Don’t touch him!” you shout. 
And even though it wasn’t particularly loud, it quiets in the mindless bickering all at once. Everyone turns to gape at you — Jason, Andy, Dustin, Eddie. Everyone is equally surprised by your outburst. Because you don’t speak. Ever. At least, not if you can help it. 
And it’s not because you don’t have anything to say, because you do. It’s just that your brain works too much, and your mouth can’t keep up with it sometimes. It’s easier just to be silent.
That’s what you’ve been known for ever since you were little. You went through all of it — the bullying, the sad eyes, the talks with teachers, the ‘is everything alright at home’s. Everything was fine, for the most part. Your childhood was equally as middling as everyone else’s. You just had a harder time being human than most people.
Jason smiles again, amused by your warning. “What was that, sweetheart?”
You swallow through a tightening throat. Your sweaty hands clench into balls at your sides. The words come out quieter than before, but no less meaningful. “I said… Don’t touch him.”
“Oh, so she does speak. Here I thought no one ever taught you how to,” the blonde boy laughs. You feel disgusting when his attention settles solely upon you. The lingering sick feeling is eclipsed by your gratitude that Eddie’s no longer in his line of fire. “I’m gonna be honest… I thought you were cuter when you were quiet.”
You don’t know what he means by that. You can’t tell if he’s being genuine, or if he thinks you care enough about what he thinks to slink back into your shell.
“Leave Eddie alone,” you retort drily.
He snorts. “Yeah? Or what?”
There’s a thousand words you want to say. You open your mouth to spit all of them at the boy across from you, but nothing comes out.
“Yeah,” Jason laughs at your silence. “That’s what I thought.”
You stand your ground when he walks towards you. His strides are slow and menacing, like he’s expecting you to back away. You might’ve if you were anywhere else — if Eddie wasn’t a couple feet away and the rest of your friends weren’t crowding behind you. You’re made somehow braver by their presence.
“This is a really cute dress, though, sweetheart,” the blonde boy compliments with a thin smirk. “You should dress like this more often. You know what? You’d really fit in at the strip club downtown— what’s it called?”
“Pink Paradise,” Andy answers without missing a beat.
Jason smacks his lips against his teeth. “That’s the one.”
“Is that the one your mom works at?” you wonder with your arms crossed over your chest. Your head tilts to your shoulder as you squint at him. “Is she still giving those two-for-one discounts?” 
Jason’s confidence stutters at your biting reply — even more so by the choked-back laughter accompanying it. Your boys don’t bother to hide their humored giggles, though the basketball team covers theirs by coughing into their fists.
“Ooh. I didn’t know you had such a much on you,” the blonde lilts as his blue eyes narrow. “I’m like… fifty percent more attracted to you now.”
“Leave Eddie alone,” you deadpan once more. “And go be a douchebag somewhere else.”
One of his friends breaks free from the pack. He’s tall, thin, and toned. He’s got the same haircut as Lucas: compact curls, squared off on the sides. You know him — Patrick McKinney. He’s the only one of Jason’s friends that was actually nice to you. Or, at the very least, he wasn’t a total asshole.
“Let’s go, man,” the boy ushers, nudging at Jason’s bicep. “Let’s go shoot some hoops or something. This isn’t worth it.”
You scoff out a laugh. “Oh, please— the only shooting Jason Carver does is into a kleenex. It’s why you were benched all last season.”
“I twisted my ankle!” the blonde boy defends, sounding weak and pathetic beneath the chorus of laughter as Patrick drags him away.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” you mutter, perhaps too quiet for him to hear, as Lucas pulls at your forearm to guide you in the other direction. His touch is still gentle — it would be uncharacteristic of him to be rough with you. It would also be a terrible idea with Eddie just a few paces behind the both of you.
The walk to The Palace is a silent one. There’s too much to say, and everyone’s just a little too amazed to say it. Eddie, however, never had a hard time killing a quiet. He rushes on long legs to match your quick strides, reaching you rather easily. 
“Hey, hey, hey— you okay, babe?” the worried boy wonders. He takes a gentle hold of your wrists when you reach the awning beneath the arcade. His chocolate gaze flits attentively over your form, nowhere near as leering as Jason had been. 
He can tell by your heaving chest and glassy eyes that you’re a little overwhelmed. When he takes your face in his hands, he finds that your cheeks are burning, too.
You nod into his warm palms in silent reply, back in the comfort of your shell all over again.
“What’d you do that for, huh?” Eddie singsongs with a quiet laugh. His thumb dances over your cheekbones as he grins at you. “You know I don’t like you getting involved with those assholes.”
“They don’t get to talk to you like that… Or put their hands on you,” you mutter. Despite your soft tone, Eddie can see the fury flashing in your eyes, getting angry about it all over again.
His smile widens — proud and hopelessly in love with you. “No. They don’t. Especially not with my girl around, huh?”
“Nope,” you murmur, popping the p. A sheepish grin pulls at your mouth, equally as proud and in love.
Eddie leans down to kiss you, guiding your mouth to his with the hands cupping your jaw. It’s innocuously chaste, being that you’re still standing in a public parking lot. You could never quite stomach the attention of PDA, anyway. His pink lips lock with yours in a fleeting peck, and his arms wrap around you a second later.
He smothers you into his chest, and you revel in every second of it. He smells like cigarette smoke and the cologne he tried to cover it up with. He smells like a home you could live in forever. 
You smile into the thrifted Blondie tee you got him — which he happily accepted because he loves you (even though he hates Blondie). He presses a kiss into your hair and smushes his nose into the crown of it as he laughs.
“‘Is that the one your mom works at?’” Eddie repeats with a soft chuckle, chest swelling with pride once more. “God, babe. That’s good.”
“Shut up…” you murmur.
“I’m serious! I didn’t know you were such a good smack-talker! I think you might be a genius, actually.”
“Don’t,” you grouse with a lighthearted scowl. You pull away from him only slightly — enough for him to put your face back in his hands again. You feel safest there, even if you are pouting up at him.
“You’re so cute,” the boy muses with a beam. His eyes glimmer like a sea of chocolate syrup, melting with all the love he has for you. “You’re like a cinnamon roll. A cinnamon roll that could bite people.”
“That’s exactly what I am,” you monotone and try your best not to smile.
Eddie couldn’t hide his grin if he tried. “And that’s exactly why I love you.”
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leascorner · 8 months
Text
b.b. | With child
Summary: He was so absorbed by his own created misery; he hadn’t actually thought about what you could be thinking. How hard was it for you to congratulate all of your friends on their pregnancy, to watch over all of his nieces and nephews? It was all within easy reach and never really yours.
Pairing:  Benedict Bridgerton x f!reader
Warnings: angst ('cause I can't write anything else), alluding to sex (no description whatsoever), discussions around pregnancy, pregnancy, mention of alcohol.
Words Count: 2.1k
Author's Notes: Had this in the work for the longest time. I was actually thinking to publish it for his season (#4 I hope!). But we got new stills of Season 3 and it's nearly Valentine's Day so... Enjoy!
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“Are you-” you asked when you noticed your sister-in-law had let her glass of wine and her plate untouched.
Your words stayed lost on your tongue, yet Daphne, sat in front of Benedict and next to you, knew exactly what you were about and nodded slightly, tears in her eyes. You let out a small cry of excitement and leant in to hug her. While you wore the most delighted expression, Benedict’s heart sunk a little at the news.
His sister was with child. Again. She was the second women of his family to be expecting this year, while he had yet an exciting news to share himself.
You both had wed a little over than a year and a half ago now and were yet to be blessed with a child. You were doing your best, of course, but none your efforts had been fruitful so far. Benedict did not mind; he had waited his whole life to meet you, he definitely could wait a little bit longer.
He did not mind, or so he thought…
Tonight, he thought life was particularly unfair to him. Every pregnancy announcement was only nourishing this harrowing feeling in his chest. All he could feel was his siblings’ bliss and it made him sick to the stomach. Yes, he was sick with jealousy - and ultimately selfish. He just couldn’t wait to feel your belly growing, to hold your children, to watch them playing around with their cousins, for them to grow older and become adults themselves. Just this simple thought made his very own heart felt extremely heavy.
Politely and quietly, he raised his glass wishing his sister a healthy pregnancy, before drinking away his sorrow.
The ride home that night was particularly quiet.
Silence had never been a thing between the two of you. Benedict was usually the most talkative, telling you about his days, about whatever painting he was going to paint, about that book he had been reading. You would listen, looking back at him with your big bright eyes and a soft smile onto your lips. Other times, he would watch you pacing back and forth in his study while passionately debating about politics. He would be drawing imaginary circles on your soft skin as you were lying in bed, you telling him about another one of your days chaperoning one of his sisters. He would listen to your laugh at one of his jokes. Even your fights would be followed by soft apologies, quiet words, whimpers, and love.
On the contrary, that night, the air was thick with something he couldn’t quite describe, and the coach was wrapped up in dark clouds, a genuine storm in the awakening. Sat on the opposite side, you were looking through the window, your face only light up by the few shines of the full moon. Benedict was so focused on his own thought that he didn’t realize you hadn’t had a word for the rest of the night.
He was so absorbed by his own created misery; he hadn’t actually thought about what you could be thinking. How hard was it for you to congratulate all of your friends on their pregnancy, to watch over all of his nieces and nephews? It was all within easy reach and never really yours. It only made him angrier at the entire world. Why couldn’t they let you live this as well?
He would have liked to discuss this with you - his regrets, his hope - but he was too afraid you would realize what a failure he was. How disappointed with him you were. How you would hate him for not being able to offer you this. So, he sat back in his seat and watched out of his own window.
When the coach stopped in front of your residence, Benedict got out first, offering his hand to help you getting down the small step like he always did. You smiled at him, thanking him politely, and let go of his hand as soon as your two feet were on the ground. It didn’t mean anything, he tried to reassure himself, you needed both of your hands to grab the tissue of your dress to prevent the hem from getting wet and dirty. Yet, he couldn’t help the sharp pain in his chest.
Silently, he followed you inside, hat in his hands, jaw locked. You were welcomed as usual by your housemaid, who got both of your coats and stayed there, in the uncomfortable silence, arms full, waiting for one of you to dismiss her. As you took off your gloves and didn’t dare look at Benedict, he nodded sharply to let her know she could go and watched her somehow disappear in an instant.
Suddenly, it was only the two of you again and it was all too much for him. He couldn’t breathe properly; his chest being crushed by the invisible weight of his sorrow. He couldn’t bare staying with you one more second. He needed to get out of here.
“Good night,” he said firmly, before walking to his study.
Would he have looked back he would have seen you watching him disappear in the corridor. You, all alone in the middle of the hall, arms dangling. He would have seen the frown on your face and the hurt in your eyes. Would he have looked back he would have run back to your side. Instead, he did none of that. He continued marching, head up high, trying to escape his own misery.
You sighed before turning in the opposite direction and to your shared bedroom.
Benedict went to bed less than an hour after you.
He had been haunted by guilt as soon as he had reached his study, sadness evaporating once he had stepped inside the room. Instead of turning back and chasing after you, he had tried to put his head in order. He then had tried painting whatever he was feeling, but he could only stay in front of his white canvas, terrified of laying his brush on the cotton. He had tried writing it, but he couldn’t concentrate enough; his thoughts always drifting to you, alone in your bedroom. He had then settled on having a drink to wait long enough for you to fall asleep before he could go to bed - his other option would have been to sleep in his study if he got too drunk, which he did not.
He had thought long about the whole situation. It wasn’t like you were not trying. Sometimes, even with doing the right things, it didn’t happen. He would need to accept this. And he couldn’t continue being a terrible husband. It wasn’t your fault; it wasn’t anybody’s fault actually. What he knew more than anything though was that he loved you. Whatever would happen, he could not afford to lose you.
He had decided he would come clean tomorrow, but for now, he only wanted to sleep with you by his side.
In the dark of your room, Benedict undressed and lied besides you as silently as possible.
All he could hear was your uneven breathing; whatever dream you were having did not seem to be pleasant. He reached out to your arm, hoping that you could feel his presence through his touch and know he would always be there for you.
It wasn’t until your body was rocked by a hiccup that he understood that you were not having a bad dream, you were crying.
“Y/N?” he asked, lying on his side to face your back.
“I am so sorry,” your voice was only a whisper.
He gently made you roll on your side. Even in the dark, his right hand was able to find your face and his thumb to rub the tears away. Before he could ask what was wrong, you spoke:
“I am so-” You chocked on – yet – another sob and it took you a couple of seconds to even out your breathing so you could speak properly: “So sorry- for not being able to get you- get you what you ever wanted.”
“My love,” he sighed, grabbing the back of your neck to bring you closer. Instinctively, you hide your face in his chest, and he started stroking your hair to try and calm you. “My love, do not ever feel guilty on this.”
“I have tried every tea, every method that is supposed to help,” you cried some more.
It broke his heart to realize the burden on your heart - of course, if he was feeling it, you would have too. He finally understood how selfish he had been, how centred on his own pain he was and so oblivious to yours. It had never been a subject between the two of you, but it was slowly crushing you both.
“My love, this is not your fault.”
“You don’t see the pity in their eyes. You don’t hear them whisper.” You sniffled against his chest, arms wrapped around his waist. “We are even blessed Lady Whistletown has not written about us.” He heard the frustration in your voice and the ton of it made him understand how you had tried to suppress the guilt but failed. It pained him that out of all of this, it was you who were the one being charged guilty by everyone - you included. As if you couldn’t imagine it being his own fault. As if you couldn’t imagine it being anyone’s fault but yours.
“Perhaps, I-” he stopped, running a hand through his hair out of frustration. “I drink loads of Colin’s stupid tea; I paint with all sorts of chemicals substance. Perhaps, I can’t-”
“Ben, of course, no!”        
“Perhaps we won’t ever-” he confessed, but he couldn’t even say it out loud. It was all too much.
You moved against him, and he felt both of your hands grabbing his face, your forehead resting again his. He felt your hot breath against his skin, and he hugged you tighter, crushing your bones, making sure you were close.
He had you, he kept repeating himself. It was all that mattered. Of course, it was a dear wish of his to see mini versions of yourselves running around, but not at all costs. He wasn’t willing to sacrifice what you both had, right here, right now.
“We are both healthy, it is more than all I could ever wish for.”
“Will this ever be enough for you, though?” you asked so quietly he nearly did not hear you.
Benedict frowned. Was it really what you thought? That he would leave you? That your own self was not enough for him? He had been an even more terrible husband he had thought to lead you thinking this. He had failed you on so many levels.
“I was so absorbed by my own desire of having my own family,” he whispered back like he was telling you a secret, “I never asked if you also desire to have children of your own.”
“Ben, of course, I want your children!”
Benedict wanted to express how grateful he was to have you in his life, but no words came to his mind at that moment. He only reached out to your lips, trying to express how much he loved you.
If he could not tell you, he could still show you…
Hours later, while you were lying in bed, your head on Benedict’s chest, his left hand drawing invisible love words on your back and the other holding you close, he thought that there was nothing else he would like to do than stay with you, like this, forever.
“We should just take some time away from here.”
“What do you mean? The season only began-”
“To hell with worldliness. Some time away, just the two of us.” The sun was slowly peeking through the blinds, its yellow light was painting on your naked skin a glowy spectrum. “I heard South of France is particularly beautiful, this time of the year.”
Your chin on his chest, you looked back at him, eyes bright. He was looking at you the same way you had catch him do a million time: a soft smile on his lips, his eyes filled of this spark, shinning only for you. You didn’t care how beautiful France would be, he was the most beautiful view you had ever laid eyes on.
His hand brushed some hair out of your face, and you grabbed it to kiss his knuckles.
“France, it is then.”
Little did you know, you would be coming back home a few months later, bearing your own little miracle.
One of the many to come.
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cindyss · 4 months
Text
• - I WANT BOTH - •
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PAIRING(S): mattheo riddle x fem. reader x theodore nott
WARNING(S): jealousy, smut, threesome, praising.
SUMMARY: when theo, mattheo, and y/n get left alone in a party, the tension in the room becomes more tense and things escalate
A/N: inspired by challengers and that one scene ifykyk🫦
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as a new student here at hogwarts, this would be your first party. you get to the slytherin party in your black skirt and green top. paired with high black boots, you looked breathtaking. you made your way to your friends, pansy, astoria, daphne, blaise and enzo.
you got a few drinks down then got on the dancing floor. double fantasy playing by the weeknd, you sway and move your hips in rhythm. then after about an hour of dancing, blaise and enzo pull you aside and tell you they want you to meet some of their friends.
you approach their friend group consisted of a bleached blond haired guy, 2 brunettes, and one blondish- brownish haired figure. “guys meet y/n” blaise announces. you smile at them all and notice two of them, the blondish brownish haired guy, theo as enzo announced, and the slightly younger looking brunette, mattheo, checking you out.
just then, enzo and regulus leave you to get drinks, and draco and blaise disappear into the dance floor. now left with theodore and mattheo, the three of you stand in silence until mattheo speaks “you’re in 6th right?” “yess what about you?” you try keeping the conversation going. “we’re both in 7th” theodore speaks “and i believe we share a handful of classes together” “i think we do you reply”.
just then, stood in silence, both of the boys’ eyes never leave you, following your every move. “its getting pretty fucking noisy isnt it?” you scream. “yeah it is” says theo while mattheo just nods. “wanna go somewhere more quiet?” again from theo. you nod your head and the three of you make it up the stairs to one of the bedrooms.
since you were all very tired, you all kick off your shoes as you lie on the ground. you then speak for about 30 minutes as they tell you all about Hogwarts and how everything works. After some time, you get up and sit on the bed as you realize both boys’ eyes wouldn’t leave you. you tap on the bed next to you gesturing for them to come and sit next to you.
theo on your left, mattheo on your right, you turn to face mattheo, grabbing his face and pulling him in. your lips connect, his tongue finding his way to yours. his hand wraps around your thigh as the kiss deepens.
you then pull away to theodore whose eyes are full of lust. you get closer and connect your lips with the boy, his tongue immediately claiming dominance. this one was slower and hungrier, so you get on top of theo, straddling his lap. he moans into your mouth as you slowly grind on him.
you had been feeling the tension in the room for some time now so this was what you needed. mattheo, fighting the urge, trying not to touch you, watches the heated make out session between you and his best friend.
breaking the kiss for air, you remove your shirt making your tits bounce out. then, your remove your bra, making sure the boys’ eyes never leave your every move. still on theo’s lap, you push your hair back as mattheo sits on the floor between your legs.
mattheo begins sucking on your tit licking around your nipple, his other hand pleasuring the other tit. you throw your head back, to which theo uses to kiss your neck, nibbling and sucking on the skin. a good number of moans leaves your mouth as the two boys work together in sync to pleasure you.
then, mattheo begins removing your skirt and panties in one go to reveal your wet pussy. you earn a “holy shit” from mattheo who then slightly carries you so that theo can remove his pants then they switch turns where theo holds you until mattheo removes his own.
“which one do you want first?” theo asks hesitantly. “i want both” you admit. “ask and you shall receive” mattheo speaks. theo from the back enters you first, stretching you out. you spit on mattheo’s cock taking it in ur hands. “ur turn matt” you speak and mattheo’s cock fills you. cusses are shared in the room “fuckkk y/n ur so tight” mattheo speaks.
“ive never done this before god fuckkk” after around three minutes you finally adjust and the boys work in sync to get you to come. your orgasm immediately approaches you when theo begins kissing your neck, mattheo sucking on your tits. you throw your head back as theodore kisses you, mattheo playing with ur tits.
“think we can get another one out or her?” mattheo speaks as theo smirks nodding. they once again begin thrusting in and out of you, movements getting slower and sloppier as everyone became a whimpering and moaning mess. “you’re so good, taking both of us principessa oh myyyy..” theodore speaks.
mattheo was kissing your lips, his tongue shoved in ur mouth, while theodore was busy leaving love bites on your neck. then, mattheo and theodore’s’ lips somehow connect, getting into a heated make out session as their thrusts become deeper. your eyes roll back, either from how deep and sloppy the thrusts were, or the sight of the 2 boys making out.
that didnt matter as you were thrown off the edge and your orgasm came quick, making you scream as the other two boys’ cum shoots into you. they both pull out of you and the three of you lay on the bed. “that was fucking amazing,” mattheo spoke. “just what i needed” this, from theo. “thanks guys i really did enjoy that” you say.
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frost-queen · 6 months
Text
All about the heart (Reader & Bridgerton Siblings)
Requested by: @mariexoxosblog, Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury,  @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn, @cherrysxuya
Summary: Reader has a heart defect where you have a hard time breathing whilst running with your siblings.
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Chatter filled the park as the Bridgerton’s arrived. Anthony in the front, looking over his shoulder to reply to Colin’s remark. Francesca running past him with Gregory. Eloise and Benedict walking side by side in silence. Francesca with mama as Daphne had her arm around you. Some gents and ladies turned their heads at the sudden disturbance of peace. – “Gregory! Hyacinth! Stay close!” – Violet called out seeing they were running off.
Hyacinth giggled loud, turning around to run up to Anthony. Anthony paused, blocked her way and picked her up to her dislike. She called it out when she got lifted up. Her complaints ending in laughter as Anthony set her back down. Gregory ran up to the tent, claiming the first chair as his by letting himself fall into it. Benedict jogged over to him.
Whistling loud with a nudge against his leg to get off. – “This is my seat.” – Gregory said stubborn. Benedict set his hands on the arms of the chair, leaning in. – “Go help mama.” – he replied with a cheeky smile. Gregory stared annoyed at him as Benedict kept nudging him to get up.
Gregory got up going over to Violet as Benedict sat himself down smiling. Francesca rounded him with crossed arms. – “You are the worst.” – she commented with half a smile. Benedict shrugged his shoulders, glad he had a good chair. Daphne saw another one of the folding chairs leading you to it. She sat you down happily.
She then went over to Colin to assist him into spreading out a blanket. Benedict grabbed the arms of his chair, hopping his chair closer to yours so that he could face you. – “Comfortable sister?” – he asked. You nodded. Benedict held his hand low with a luring smirk. You slapped your hand down on his with a laugh.
Benedict grabbed for you, tickling you. You squirmed against his grip, already feeling it come up. Feeling how hard your heart was pumping to get the blood flowing around your body. Your breathing becoming deeper, getting worn out. Anthony noticed it, running over. He slapped Benedict against his back to stop.
Benedict moved his hands up, looking questionable at Anthony’s glare. It gave you the time to seat yourself better and catch your breath. Immediately you were worn out. Anthony knelt before you, laying a hand on your knee.  – “Are you alright Y/n?” – he asked. You hummed loud, still trying to steady your breathing. It always took a while to do so. – “I’m not fragile.” – you said to your big brother with a smile.
Anthony took your hand, looking fondly up to you. – “No, but you mustn’t forget your limits.” – he reminded you. Benedict felt a bit guilty. He just wanted to have fun, like he did with Hyacinth or Gregory. You saw the sudden silence and guilt on his face. You moved Anthony aside to get to Benedict. Wrapping your arms around him. – “Thank you for not treating me any different.” – you whispered to him. Benedict hugged you back.
It wasn’t easy being different from your different. A heart defect they called it. A default in the heart that made it easier for you to get worn out. Your heart needing to put in that little extra effort to get the blood flow around your body. Gregory came over, tugging at Anthony. – “Come play!” – he said, pulling Anthony away. You waved him away, letting him know, you would be alright. – “I’ll just settle with my notebook.” – you told him.
Benedict re-arranged the chairs so that you were sitting beside each other. He took out his sketchbook and pencil. You opened your notebook scribbling down words. Poets. Little stories you loved to write out. Colin joined Anthony, Gregoy and Hyacinth by the tent for a game. Violet was sharing tea with Daphne and Francesca. Eloise laid down near them, trying to catch some more sleep.
Hyacinth and Anthony stood before each other. Gregory and Colin to the side. Hyacinth signalled to Anthony that she was ready to throw. She threw the hoop at him. Both Gregory and Colin trying to grab it. They missed as the hoop hooked around Anthony’s arm. He pulled his eyebrow cheeky up, making Hyacinth laugh. Anthony threw the hoop back as Colin shot his hand forwards, hitting the hoop with his fingers as it landed against Gregory’s head.
“Au, what was that for.” – Gregory called out, rubbing his head. – “Sorry.” – Colin apologized. Gregory picked the hoop up from the ground, giving it back to Anthony for another try. Benedict moved his head to the side, trying to peak at your notebook. – “Writing a poem about me?” – he asked teasingly.
You busted out in a laughter. – “You have to admit I am very interesting to write poems about.” – he brought his hands behind his back, stretching his legs out. His comment made you roll your eyes in a sarcastic way.
 “If Y/n wrote about you it would make people scream.” – Eloise commented with one eye half open. Benedict looked behind him to her on the blanket. – “Scream with terror.” – Eloise filled in with a loud laugh. Benedict moved his hand behind him to playfully slap at her but he couldn’t reach her. Gregory came running over to you. – “Y/n do you want to play with us?” – he asked.
“I would love to.” – you answered putting your notebook away. – “Be mindful Y/n.” – Violet called out as you went after Gregory. – “Yes mama.” – you responded getting pulled away by Gregory. You joined the others. – “Let’s play tag.” – Hyacinth suggested. Anthony looked over to you. – “Suggest something else Hyacinth.” – he spoke. 
You immediately knew he referred to you. – “I can handle it. Let’s play tag.” – you expressed not wanting to give your family limitations. – “Y/n are you sure?” – Colin spoke as you didn’t want to hear any more pity. – “Yes! Now let’s play.” – you said a bit annoyed. – “I’ll be it.” – Anthony moved his hand up, his other pressed to his chest.
Hyacinth and Gregory started to run away. Colin waited for you. You started easy, jogging off as you immediately felt it. Your breathing becoming shallow and loud. Anthony started to run as you staid still for a moment to catch your breath. You saw your brother run over to Gregory as he made his way over to you. With Gregory nearing, you had to run as well. You kept going feeling the pounding of your heart in your head.
Your legs feeling like it carried sandbags. The immediate feeling of tiredness in your legs as you knew you couldn’t hold it out any longer. You needed a moment to stop. Anthony noticed it slowing down. He looked around, going after Colin as he deliberately left you alone. – “Hey you could’ve tagged her!” – Colin called out taking a run for it.
“I choose whom I tag!” – Anthony breathed out. Anthony was able to tag Hyacinth as she was bummed out by it. You were near Colin, standing a bit still as Colin was shielding you a bit. Hyacinth came running over. Colin darted to the side as she focused her tag on you instead.
Squealing loud, you leapt aside, starting to run to avoid her. Hyacinth kept running after you. You weren’t a quitter so you kept running. Feeling your body tire out from the exercise. Breathing loud that it was more like panting. Your head turning a shade of red as you felt warm. Heart pounding in your head. – “Tag you’re it!” – Hyacinth called out touching your back.
The moment she tagged you, you stopped. Legs feeling sloppy as you let yourself fall to the ground. – “Y/n!” – your brothers called out. Benedict’s eyes widened, jumping out of his chair to run over. You laid yourself on your back, panting loud to catch your breath. Anthony and Colin rushing over to kneel at each side of you. – “Are you alright sister?” – Anthony asked worried. – “I’m fine.” – you answered out of breath.
“I just… need to catch… my breath…” – you replied, feeling your heart pound loudly in your chest. You noticed your siblings looked frightfully at you. – “I’m alright. I just need a moment to recover.” – you reminded them. Colin helped you sit up straight as you were still breathing loudly through your mouth. – “How about a game of cards?” – you suggested with a laugh. Benedict shook his head playfully. Anthony and Colin helped you up to your feet. Leading you back to the tent for some calmer games.
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skyrigel · 4 months
Text
Victory indeed || A.B
Pairing: Anthony bridgerton x wife!reader
Plot : You are on your way to steal the mallet of death but Anthony gets there first, change in plans— romancing lord Viscount.
Warning: NSFW content ahead!
Rigel's note🪩 : This is inspired from happily ever after, there's quite blood shed for mallet of death. Yeah Colin is love <3
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The last bits of doubt left as you shifted Anthony's arm off your waist, slowly pushing your body down and further till you were out from his grip, he almost looked innocent, sleeping and bed soft, his mouth curled in a dream like smile but you knew better than that. last time Anthony, like lord Viscount he was, stole the pallet from your wardrobe.
And the year prior, Daphne showed her Bridgerton colors, involving the Duke himself in her malice plans.
You couldn't help but smile, thinking your bridgerton were showing up too, the floor was frozen underneath your step but you thought about the victory tommorow, the look on Anthony's face would be priceless, wrapping your cloak around yourself and closing the door soundlessly as you ventured out in the corridor, the moon was high and the air was chill. If inside the Aubrey hall was cold then you weren't up for the chill outside, a shiver ran down your spine as you stepped out in the moonlight, taking the back route, just in case. The shed stood there in the bleak light. You fiddled for keys and it didn't make sense when the wooden door was unlocked, maybe Johnny forgot to lock it, anyway, all more easy. The door creaked in the silence and you couldn't care less, there was nothing between you and your victory black mallet and—
Your breath was knocked out of you as if your lungs were punctured, a gasp of white mist left your mouth at the sight of your husband, leaning idly against the wall.
" I... Anthony?! " You blinked and unblinked and he was still there, smiling.
" What are you doing here wifey ? " He cooed and it didn't help the terror that seized you.
" You knew ! " You hoped it wasn't as shaking like it felt in your throat, Anthony ran a hand through his hair and it all made sense, damn his dreamlike smile, damn you lord Viscount.
" You wound me baby, do you want me to tie you until the game tommorow, tell me, would you like that ? " He smiled all the while, faking a frown as he narrowed his eyes to your silhouette in dark.
" So you would guard the mallet all night ? " You wouldn't let Anthony win this time, it was coming on your pride now, also the love making that followed where he called you all those petty names. The last he called you runner up. No, you would win this time.
" Or I could tie you up, I like that better." Anthony suggested smugly, propping on top of the desk and flashing an erotic display of thigh, change of plans.
" My lord..." You whsipered, all seduction placed in one basket and all smugness was dropped when Anthony's lips parted.
" Do.not." he shuddered but you hit the nerve, moving slowly in your shaking steps, cloak dangling behind you.
" Anthony, these games are absurd. " You stiffled the laugh that burnt your chest, heart heaving and thudding inside your ribs.
It almost didn't work the last time you caught him stealing the mallet, Mrs.Wilson came at a very wrong time.
" It's not working." He assured, to himself mostly but his hand reached for your body all the same, betraying every word he said as he pulled you closer, face mere inches away.
He wrapped his big arms around your waist and cocked your head sideways.
" What about..." You paused, bumping your nose to his cheeks as he sniffed the moon shadow out of you, his lips tried to claim yours but you liked playing games. The ones you could win.
" About what ? " He asked breathless, his long slender fingers undoing the knot in frantic rushed movements. It was no use.
" I was thinking about...we don't have a daughter." You hoped nothing was drowned in the moan that left when Anthony bit at the junction of your neck and shoulder, he looked up with a glint, it was the most sincere set of eyes you had ever seen, also the lustiest.
Anthony could do both, have you screaming his name and worship you all the same.
" Take the mallet...take everything baby. " He kissed you, hard and crashing, like he couldn't get enough, you couldn't get enough and it became too restless for games and victory. Your body oozed with goosebumps and every single thought evaporated like mist and memories.
Anthony dropped the knot and pulled the cloak up from your head and you easily gave in, throwing your hands up as the satin fabric fell on the floor. Anthony hummed in desire.
You felt the cold air circling your body but as soon as Anthony's mouth kissed the exposed skin of you breast, it was gone, nothing mattered than him and his filthy demanding mouth.
" How beautiful you would look with our baby in your belly." He whispered against your skin and you shivered at the sensation.
His palm gripped your hips and lifted you on the desk, turning the dynamics and you cursed under your breath when his unholy fingers pinched your nipple, hard and raw.
" You like that ? " He breathed, undoing buttons of your nightdress like he was made for it, he was merciless sometimes, taking pleasure when you screamed his name and teasing you later, " so needy for me baby ? "
" An.. Anthony." You hoped he heard the plea, his thumb made circles in your inner thigh but never touching where you wanted him the most, " baby.." you buried your face in the crook of his neck and even so, you could hear the smile that crossed him, cocky and devilish.
" Say it wifey, say it nicely with your sweet mouth." He grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you back to face him, eyes locked as his head leaned down, his darted his tongue, pink and wet, the wonders he could did with that, he licked your one nipple while the other was tucked between his two fingers, pressing them together and you screamed, almost embarrassed but Anthony liked that, he always did.
" What's the word ? " He looked up smugly, pressing the tip of his nose to your nip, a smile quirking up. Fuck you Anthony!
Your brain short circuited as he tickled more and more and it became too much to bear.
" Plea... please baby, please, please —" he heard the plea and his mouth opened, taking in your soft flesh and humming in delight, kneading the other so it didn't miss his attention. He wasn't biased when it came to your body, giving everything his full attention and torment. You threw your head back at the sensation that vibratated in your body.
You grabbed his hand that glided on your bare thigh to guide him to touch you where you needed him the most, his teeth nibbed, not harder but enough to make your eyes watery as he slapped your hand away.
" You get the mallet, I get what I want, win win Viscountess." He kissed your cheek open mouthed and his desire was pressing hard against you.
" Fuck me." You said, flushed and dazed and Anthony eye's widened before he was back to play all lord and smug.
" You always order me so." He bit his lower lip but you had enough, fuck pall mall, fuck Anthony bridgerton, yes fuck him. Now.
" Fuck me Anthony! " You almost cried, Anthony leaned further, his forehead touching yours as he whispered,
" I wouldn't be able to sto—" don't stop, then.
You kissed him hard and soft, like fireworks wrecking your brain and you tongue traced his lower lip, intoxication wasted you.
He moaned and a strangled noise that you trapped in your mouth escaped, right from his throat.
His length was pressed against your thigh and it was warm and vibrating. You swallowed like a Virgin damsel.
Anthony looked at you, not breaking the fire that was blazing between your souls as he pulled it out his erection and there, angry red tip, sticky with pre cum was buzzing to be touched and loved and he looked up in delight when your eyes widened, all of the times, it didn't matter, it baffled you just the same.
You touched the tip and he shivered at the contact, his cock gave a twist and lurked fir more.
" Do you see ? " He was panting, shaking with his words as if he would fall if he didn't hold his breath, " see it ?! How much I burn for you, how much I want you ? " He shaked his head and touched his tip to your belly, soft and burning.
" No." He laughed humourlessly, his hand pushing your body to lie down on your back and you followed, taking a huge breath as Anthony grabbed your dangling ankle in a yank, bringing it around his neck.
He then kissed your knuckles softly, whsipering sweet nothings tenderly in your bones.
" I would give you anything my sweet love, you just have to ask...mallet ? I would give you my soul if you had asked. Anything for my baby love " He said, you felt your body tremor as he teased his tip at your insides, Anthony inhaled sharply as he entered you, warm and slick as oil. he entwined your fingers together.
" So good...so good for me baby." He moaned as he soft thrusted once, twice and until you were numb for anything, his words were halo in the dark, beaming silvery glow and then came one hard push and you arched your back as the pain waved in pleasure.
" Anthony..." You moaned, " oh god ! " Your words mingled in blasphemy and Anthony smiled in victory, pushing harder and harder as your hips rocked and roll.
" Say my name...say it." He demanded, your nails gripping at his shoulder so hard that it would scar, he liked it.
" Anthony...oh lord... Anthony." You screamed and chanted and you believed he heard the worship, the fate you had in him, and it didn't matter if anyone listened, let them, you thought, Anthony was a force to be reckoned with, a storm you never minded to be wrecked in. A beak of sweat glided from his forehead and dropped on your belly.
He was still pushing in a angle that had you seeing stars and cosmic love, he bend down, licking it, tongue gliding across your skin, and sniffing, taking in everything your offered.
He wanted all of you.
" I will fill you up with our baby, next time don't go hunting for mallet in midnight...it's so cold Darling, i would have to tie you up," He kissed your stomach bump, " and would carry you around everywhere." He said in dreamily haze that soon took over your lids.
The only sounds were erotic slapping of skin against skin and shuddering breaths, and he fastened his movements as a war cry took him over like a devil.
You head was thrown back as everything collapsed and grew again, bit by bit. Your eyelids drooped and a muffled cry came from you and then it was Anthony as he came in warm fizzy juice. Your felt the knot inside you uncoil and something loose inside you, uncorked as your juices mingled like your souls.
He pushed one more time, he always did that and then he collapsed next to you, satisfied, kissing your already bruised neck sweetly.
" Wouldn't you like that mama ? " He chorused and you laughed like a drunk, you would, a daughter with Anthony's eyes and smile, you smiled at the thought.
" Let's clean you up and take you to bed my lady." Anthony picked you, kissing you again as you giggled, he then grabbed the cloak and covered your body against the cold, you were dazed but not quite forgotten, you eyes searched for the war prize. Your mouth fell open, second time in a very same night.
" Where's the mallet ? " You narrowed your eyes at the stock of pink and blue and yellow but the black wasn't there, perhaps a trick of light.
Anthony followed your eyes and went closer, your arms wrapped around his shoulder and there, beneath the shadows was a parchment, rich and fresh.
Anthony picked it up with one hand, the other keeping you steady in his arms.
You saw the lanky words that belonged to none other than Mr. Bridgerton.
" Damn you Colin! " You growled as the mockful apology was scribbled for stealing the black mallet.
Anthony perched his lips at the heist but smiled when your whining eyes met his.
" I am going to whoop his ass and get you the mallet baby." He said, and you knew he will.
Victory indeed.
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Uhm Benedict bridgerton next ? Send in request ladies <3
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obsessedwithceleste · 8 months
Text
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Lessons in Love
(Or why Enzo should be banned from advanced potion making)
Theodore Nott x Ravenclaw Reader
Summary: Ft. Enzo being bad at potions, the Ravenclaw common room door, and more than one accidental love confession.
word count: 3.3k
©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.
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A deep sigh escapes your lips as you walk purposefully through the empty halls of the castle. You loved Enzo. Really, you did. But how that bastard had managed to squeeze enough O.W.Ls out of his arse to get into advanced potion making was absolutely beyond you.
It’s not that you thought your childhood best friend was dumb per se. You simply thought his talents lay elsewhere. Like in herbology. Or anywhere really where adding a pinch too much powdered moonstone didn’t result in a glittery pink potion exploding all over the front of your robes. This never would have happened of course, if your usual, equally talented, potions partner, Theodore Nott, had actually bothered to show up, but god only knew where that boy had wandered off to.
Walking into classes earlier that day you had been giddy with excitement. While potions may not have been Enzo’s forte, it was most definitely yours and advanced potions was finally giving you the challenge you had been craving. Amortentia, your professor had said, is the strongest love potion in the world, thereby making it exceptionally difficult to brew. You already knew this of course as it had all been detailed in the days readings. Not only would it make someone obsessively in love, but it also had an addictive scent, changing to fit what one was most attracted to. Now that was all well and good until one was covered in it.
Originally, you figured that all would be fine. Enzo profusely apologized, quickly following up with a joke about how “at least you’ll smell nice for once.” But oh how right he’d been. It started with students accidentally bumping into you in the corridor as you went from class to class as they subconsciously leaned in to follow the alluring scent. A minor inconvenience you thought. (Although you did have to choose to ignore that third year almost getting impaled on a statue’s sword because he wasn’t paying attention after you passed.)
But then Cho and Marietta couldn’t stop leaning in to get a whiff of the scent all throughout the start of charms, causing Flitwick to continuously shoot concerned glances at the three of you. You eventually caved, moving quickly and silently to the back of the class room where Enzo was sat with the rest of the Slytherins. As soon as he saw you making your way over, he leaned over, whispering something in Daphne’s ear beside him. She gives you a quick look of knowing pity before moving into the empty seats usually claimed by Theodore and Matteo who were, unsurprisingly, still no where to be found.
“For what it’s worth, I really am sorry,” Enzo mumbles, at least having the decency to look embarrassed as you plop into the seat beside him.
“This is horrible! I did not need to know that Marietta’s amortentia smells like bloody Cormac McLaggen or whatever his name is,” you hiss in response.
Enzo lets out a quiet chuckle, sneaking a quick glance at your house mate.
“Hey,” he whispers after a moment, “What do you smell anyway? You must be going mad having that stuff all over you.”
You shoot a glare at your friend. You had a sinking feeling he already knew, considering he had been poking fun at you for weeks. You shudder remembering all those disgusting kissy faces Enzo had been making at you from across the library just last week. Bloody bastard was fishing for confirmation. Maybe if you ignore him, he’ll simply go away you think to yourself. Enzo however, takes your silence as an admission of guilt, a grin spreading across his face.
“I knew it. So tell me y/n, what does dear Theodore Nott smell like? Cigarette smoke? Hippogriff dung?” He snickers.
“He is my best friend, Lorenzo,” you whisper, giving the boy beside you another withering glare.
Enzo’s face falls at this.
“I’m your best friend.” He grumbles.
“I don’t know why. You’re mean to me,” you reply with exasperation.
He immediately perks up again at this, giving you a slight nudge.
“So I’m right? You do like Theo?” He asks excitedly.
“Enzo, I will avada you, and make it look like an accident,” you hiss in response.
“Come on, y/n, I’m your best friend, you have to tell me these things,” he pouts.
“Oh really? Like how you have to tell me about how you’re probably smelling Daphne’s shampoo right now? Or is it her lavender perfume?” You ask innocently, batting your lashes.
Enzo goes beet red at this, gesturing wildly at you to lower your voice.
“Hush woman! She’s right there!” He hisses.
You say nothing, only giving him a triumphant grin before turning back to Flitwick to try to salvage what few notes you’d been able to take down that lesson.
The final straw occurred during ancient runes when poor, unsuspecting Hermione sat down behind you and asked with a look of bewilderment if you had been showered with Draco’s cologne that morning. Her look of absolute horror only grew as you told her of your distressing situation. You thought she might faint when she realized that Draco had been within earshot and now had a shit eating grin on his face. With a sigh of defeat, you give Hermione an apologetic smile before deciding it was time to turn in the white flag of defeat.
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You breathe a heavy sigh of relief as you finally come to a stop outside your common room door. You then frown, realizing you had in fact, made it to your common room door.
“What makes a raven like a writing desk?” The metallic voice of the Ravenclaw common room door asks, springing to life.
This putrid, skanky little-
“You wouldn’t want me to shove either of them up your ars-“
A low whistle catches your attention before you’re able to finish cursing out your common room’s door thoroughly.
“Whoa there feisty, let the eagle be,” Theo’s voice laughs as he steps into view.
The strong scent of roasted coffee beans and smoke that had been burning your nostrils all day hits you once again like a ton of bricks. Giving the eagle another withering glare, you turn your full attention to the looming threat approaching. You would sooner throw yourself off of the astronomy tower than let Theo know that your amortentia smelled like him. Someone had to keep the boy’s bloody ego in check.
“Full offense Theodore, I’ve had a horrendously awful day today, and I really don’t have time for whatever nonsense you’re about to start.” You say with a roll of your eyes as you cross your arms at the boy in front of you.
Theo laughs again, mirroring your movements as he leans against one of the pillars lining the halls.
“Poor principessa. Have a hard day in classes without me?” He asks with a smirk.
You scowl in response. It didn’t help that you had, in fact, missed the brunette’s comforting, albeit annoying, presence all day, but you weren’t about to admit that.
“Now that you mention it, I didn’t even realize you were missing. What snake hole did you slither off to today?” You ask, the lie sliding easily off your lips.
Theo cocks as eyebrow at that but leaves it be.
“Matteo wanted to ditch, had to baby sit. Make sure he didn’t get into too much trouble. You know how it goes,” Theo replied shrugging his shoulders. “And what’s a pretty little witch like yourself doing skiving off class?”
Theo takes another step forward.
“Don’t come closer!” You yelp before you can stop yourself. You had no interest knowing what Theo would smell if he got close enough. He frowns at you however.
“And why not?” He challenges, taking another step towards you. This boy really did not take well to being told what to do.
“I- I smell. Really bad. Had to leave class, I just- ya know, smelled, so bad” You splutter, mentally kicking yourself. Who says that in front of the guy they like? Why were you like this?
Theo’s thick brows shoot up at your declaration before he takes a final large step towards you and leans in, pressing his hand against your forehead before moving it down to feel your cheek.
“Y/n are you ill? Do you need to go see Madam Pomfrey? I can walk you there if you’d like.” He says, any bit of snark his voice previously held long gone.
“I’m fine Theodore, really.” you say, batting his hand away.
“Are you sure?” He asks, looking at you disbelievingly.
He leans in again and takes in a whiff of your scent and you immediately tense, freezing where you are. God damn it. His brows furrow.
“Y/n, you smell perfectly normal, maybe a bit stronger than usual, but definitely not bad.” He says, looking even more confused.
Before you’re able to fully process the words that just came out of Theo’s mouth, Enzo and Pansy come barreling down the hall towards the two of you in a fit of giggles.
“Y/n! y/n, you know I’m sorry, really I am, but if dousing you in amortentia is all it takes to get Draco and Granger to make complete fools of themselves in front of each other, I’d do it again!” Enzo exclaims between breathy laughs. “You haven’t seen ferret boy run past, by chance, by the way have you?
“Sorry, amor-what now?” Theo asks, blinking as he purses his lips.
You look between the three of your friends in alarm, praying no one mentioned anything after Theo had just announced that you smelled perfectly normal to him.
“Oh, you’re going to wish you were there! After you left, Draco was so pleased with himself. Looked like a kid on Christmas. Kept trying to flirt with Hermione until she finally sent a flock of doves to run him out of the classroom! Professor wasn’t too happy bout that one. Let us go early to find the blonde loon,” Enzo says, completely ignoring Theo’s question.
“I’m sorry, amor-WHAT?” Theo asks again, louder this time.
You feel yourself cringe.
“Amortentia.” Pansy snorts. “Do try and keep up Teddy.”
“This is what you get for always skiving off class with Matteo,” Enzo adds, nodding at the boy as if he were his disappointed mother.
“Mhmm. Enzo totally floozied over y/n’s potion this morning. Blew it up all over her and she’s been having people wander up to her to take a sniff all day.” Pansy tells him with a sniff.
Theo blinks again before slowly meeting your eyes as what he said only moments earlier begins to sink in. Pansy, ever the cunning witch, was lightening quick to catch on.
“Speaking of which, I am suddenly so interested in what exactly it is that you smell, dearest Teddy,” Pansy says as her eyes flicker between the two of you, a mischievous grin growing on her face.
Theo scowls at the nickname.
“Campfire.”
“Old parchment.” You say in unison.
Pansy smirks.
“Do you smell that Enzo?” She asks, making a show of sniffing the air around her. “I think I smell- a liar. Or two.”
Enzo only snickers as he eyes the both of you up. He knew exactly what you had been smelling all day and you begin to feel panic rise up in your chest. You send a menacing glare his way, daring him to open his mouth.
“Come on Pans, I don’t think Draco and Granger are the only ones who’ll be chatting up tonight,” he says finally.
Glaring at the pair’s disappearing backs, you once again turn slowly back to the problem at hand.
“Soo,” Theo starts at the same time you blurt out,
“This is entirely your fault.”
Theo’s mouth drops open, and he has the audacity to look offended.
“How do you figure mi amore?” He asks.
“You’re supposed to be my partner in potions, but you weren’t there today, so I had to work with,” you shudder, “Enzo.”
Rolling his eyes at your dramatics and giving you a small smile, Theo lets himself relax, leaning on the wall as he towers over you.
“Enzo isn’t so bad,” he says, slowly bringing a hand up to rest on your waist, gently moving you towards him. You pretend not to notice, taking a small, nervous step forward.
“He singed off Matteo’s eyebrows last year. The year before that, he didn’t realize there was a difference between fire flower and fired flour, and his potion melted through the floor. I heard a Puff call him Slytherin’s Seamus,” you retort. “Do you realize how bad you have to be at something to get made fun of by a Hufflepuff?” He snorts at that, cocking his head in agreement.
“Well I’m sorry alright? I’ll make it up to you.”
“You’ll have to. I have to go in again to remake the potion. Don’t want that bad mark on my grade.”
Theo only hums at this, as you’re finally standing nose to chest with him, forcing you to tilt your head up to still see his face.
“You really do smell nice,” he murmurs, pressing his nose lightly into your hair.
You make a face before nuzzling into his chest to hide the redness growing on your cheeks.
“I’m not talking about this in public. I simply refuse,” you say, trying to melt into him from pure embarrassment.
Theo looks down at you with a devilishly handsome grin before turning back to your long forgotten common room door.
“Hey, open up. She technically answered your little riddle earlier,” he tells the door.
The eagle grumbles something unintelligible as it starts to life again.
“I can always melt you down. I’m sure you’d make a great piss pot,” Theo threatens, going to pull out his wand.
The door swings open rather violently and you’re pretty sure you can hear a rather colorful string of curses come out of the eagle’s beak as you make your way inside. Having been there a thousand times before, Theo easily leads you to your shared, but thankfully empty, dorm room, closing the door behind you.
“You really don’t get along with that eagle, do you principessa?” He asks, throwing his shoes off and making himself comfortable on your bed like he usually did.
“Like you’re any better. You just threatened to turn it into a chamber pot,” you retort, falling easily back into your usual banter. This was fine. This was safe.
Theo only raises a brow at you.
“The blasted door is still mad at me for making a ur mum joke when it asked me if a chicken came before the egg in front of a bunch of second years.” You admit, letting your arms fall to your side.
Theo lets out a loud laugh at that shaking his head and extending his arm for you. You walk carefully towards the bed before hesitantly accepting his invitation. It’s not that cuddling with Theo was something unfamiliar to you, as much as you were hyper aware of the slightly awkward tension between the two of you that wasn’t usually there. You slide your shoes off as well before curling up next to him and laying your head on his chest. The two of you lay in silence and you slowly let your eyelids flutter shut, lost in the feeling of Theo’s chest rising and falling.
“You know. You still haven’t told me what your amortentia smells like,” Theo says, finally breaking the silence as he gently brings his hand up to run his fingers through your hair.
“Take a wild fucking guess,” you murmur, refusing to open your eyes and determined to get further lost in his warm touch.
He only hums in response, continuing to comb his fingers through the soft locks of hair.
“You know when Enzo asked me if I smelled you today, he thought you’d smell like hippogriff dung,” you say eventually.
“Fucking tosser. What did that git smell? Wild lavender?”
“And Daphne’s shampoo.”
You feel Theo snort as if he expected no less of your ever romantic best friend. Silence once again rolls over the both of you as you absentmindedly play with the edge of his shirt, rolling the soft fabric between your fingers nervously. The quiet begins to feel suffocating, so you open your mouth to speak, but Theo beats you to it.
“Champagne. And that perfume you always use. With the little white flowers. Lilies of the valley, right?” Theo says.
You open your eyes to look at him in confusion.
“That’s what you smell like.” He says, carefully running his hand down your spine, sending a shiver through you.
“I smell roasted coffee. And smoke. Not the fire-y kind though. The kind that sticks to your clothes cause you refuse to quit smoking.” You respond, looking into his eyes warily for his reaction.
Theo only smirks in response, a cocky grin spreading across his face.
“Aw mi amore, I’m what you’re most attracted to?” He asks, the teasing bait evident in his voice.
You feel heat rise to your cheeks as Theo gazed intently down at you in his arms.
“Shut up Theodore. You sure know how to ruin a moment,” you say, once again burying your face in a chest.
You feel his chest rumble with laughter before his hand snakes it way up to your chin, tilting your head up and capturing your lips with his. His lips are softer than you imagined as he moves them gently against yours. You let a soft gasp escape and Theo pulls you closer, gripping your waste tightly, and shifting you on top of him, deepening the kiss until you’re both left gasping for air.
“Was that more of what you had in mind amore?” He asks with an innocent smile, looking up at you with what you could only describe as his best baby seal eyes.
“I mean, you were definitely significantly more shirtless when I imagined it, but I can settle.” You joke.
Theo’s eyes darken however, and he lifts you as if you weigh nothing, flipping you over so that he now hovered above you, your back pinned against the bed beneath you. With one swift movement, Theo pulls his shirt up and over his head before lowering himself back down, his chest now pressed against yours.
“Better?”
You can’t help but laugh at the boy’s determination as your eyes shamelessly take in the lean muscle and tanned skin that was current above you.
“Theodore, as much as I enjoy this, you have to put your clothes on. Cho or Marietta could walk in at any time,” you tell him as you begin to make soft circles across his waist line with your thumbs, admiring the boy in front of you.
“Mm. You mouth is saying one thing, but these,” he says, placing his hands over yours, “are saying something else entirely.”
You roll your eyes, pulling your hands out from under his and handing him his discarded shirt.
“One kiss?” He asks, looking at the shirt as if it had mortally offended him.
“One kiss.”
He leans down, once again capturing your lips with his, but with more intensity this time. You feel one of his hands brush your waist as his thumb pushes up under your shirt, the rest of his hand following soon after, gripping tightly at the warm skin beneath. You let out a breathy moan when he flicks his tongue across your bottom lip, and he takes it as an invitation to let his tongue explore the rest of your mouth.
An awkward cough shakes you from the haze and you look up, over Theo’s shoulder to see Cho standing guiltily in the doorway.
“Sorry,” she says, looking literally anywhere but you and the shirtless boy above you. “Bad time?”
You cover your eyes in embarrassment, feeling heat once again rush to your cheeks.
“What did I tell you!” You groan, letting your head fall back onto your mound of pillows. Meanwhile Theo has a much too self satisfied grin across his face.
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theosbutterfly · 5 months
Text
the best thing at this party — t. nott
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❝ fighting in only your army frontlines, don't you ignore me i'm the best thing at this party ❞
pairing: jealous!theo x malfoy!reader
context: at yours and draco's annual back-to-hogwarts bash, a pair of weasleys show up uninvited, much to theo's dismay.
words: 2.3k+
warnings: jealousy, somewhat possessive behavior, reader's kind of a bitch, theo's kind of an asshole, marijuana use, alcohol use, vomiting, a little fluff, mainly angst
"so where's the principessa?" you hear theo bring you up in conversation as you and pansy descend the stairs to join the boys in the foyer. "taking extra time to fix up her hair?"
"é un dato di fatto, lo ero," as a matter of fact, i was. you lean a hand against the banister, stopping on the last step, eyes focusing on theo. there's a chance you may or may not have learned italian just to make sure he couldn't insult you without your knowledge—not that it stopped him, but at least this way, you could defend yourself. "it takes time to look this good. but glad to know you noticed my absence."
"ooh, she got you there, mate," blaise chuckles, placing a hand on theo's shoulder, who shrugs it off.
"whatever," he spat, rolling his eyes. "i need a drink."
"finally something i can get on board with," mattheo points a finger at him, and they both turn to head towards the sitting room, pansy trailing closely behind them.
"is pans still trying to get with matt?" enzo asks, tilting his head up at you as they walked away.
"beats me," you shrugged, stepping down the last step and glancing between them. "now, why are you two standing here like a bunch of statues? last i checked, party's over there." you point your thumb towards the parlor, which appeared to be glowing green.
"the gate's still open," blaise shrugs. "draco wants us to watch for 'undesirables'."
"undesirables?" you repeat the word just so he could hear how ridiculous it sounded. "has he gone mad?"
"he wants to make sure no one from the other houses show up," blaise clarifies.
"fuck that," you shake your head. "come on." you link your arms with one of blaise's and one of enzo's, waving a finger up in the air. "colloportus!" the spell causes the front door and front gate to seal shut, as you begin walking with blaise and enzo towards the music. "now, where's dobby?"
your house elf immediately appears in front of you at the sound of his name.
"dobby is here, miss y/n," he looks up at you. "what can dobby do for you?"
you unlink your arms from blaise and enzo's and crouch down to be eye level with him. "fetch me the good liquor from the cellar downstairs, and then come find me when you've got it."
he nods. "dobby is on it miss y/n!"
"what are you doing standing here all alone?" daphne greengrass saunters over to theo, who was leaning against the bar, a drink in hand.
"daphne greengrass," theo greets her. "i'm surprised you're here. wouldn't the head girl disapprove of rowdy parties as such?" he waves his drink towards the crowd that had turned the malfoy's parlor into a makeshift dance floor, and she chuckles.
"i'm turning over a new leaf," she shrugs, taking a sip of her own drink. "it is our last year, after all."
"thank merlin for that," you walk between them, and lean over the bar to reach for four shot glasses.
"y/n," daphne's voice is strained as she clears her throat. "nice to see you."
you stand up straight after retrieving what you were looking for and turn your head towards her. "i'd say the same, but i'm not a liar."
theo shifts his eyes between the two of you, slightly amused at the way daphne takes a deep breath to keep her composure while you throw her a close-lipped smile.
"where'd you get the bottle, y/n?" he cuts in to prevent a cat fight from breaking out between you and daphne, and eyes the bottle of fire whiskey in your hand.
you look at him. "i had dobby fetch it from the cellar," you say. "pans and i are gonna drink it dry."
"just the two of you?" he raises an eyebrow, condescension painting his features. "does draco know about that?"
"why?" you challenge. "are you gonna go run off and tattle on me?"
before he could reply, another voice cuts in. "oi, malfoy! are we getting pissed or what?"
you turn your attention away from theo to the one of the weasleys you'd found lurking around the corners. "well, you're quite the impatient one, aren't you, freddie?"
heat rises in theo's chest when he gets a better look of the guy under the green light, and realizes its a weasley. what the hell was he doing here? and why were you allowing it?
"time is of the essence, darling," fred tells you. "george and i are trying to get a taste of this drink you've got before we inevitably get kicked out of here."
"what are you doing here, weasley?" theo speaks through gritted teeth, and looks at you. "you invited them?"
"of course not," you shrug. "they snuck in."
theo's eyes narrow at you. "and you're offering them a drink instead of throwing them out?"
"they ditched their house colors to don ours for the night," you tell him, eyes focused on fred. "i think that deserves them a little taste of slytherin."
theo doesn't miss the way fred's eyes trail over your body, and rolls his eyes. "maybe even more than a little," fred smirks.
you giggle at his words, but before you could walk away with him, theo grabs the back of your arm, pulling you close, his lips right above your ear. "cosa fai?" what are you doing?
you tilt your head up to have your eyes meet his. "mi sto divertendo," i'm having fun. "dovresti provarlo qualche volta." you should try it sometime.
you yank your arm out of his hold and don't give him a chance to respond, waltzing away towards the crowd.
"merlin, she is fit," fred comments, watching the way your hips sway as you walk away. "is she seeing anyone?"
"if she was, it certainly wouldn't be you," theo tells him.
"we'll see about that, mate. excuse me," fred throws him a smirk, before walking away to follow you across the room.
theo watches as he does, bringing his glass up to his lips to finish of his drink.
"do you-" daphne starts, but he doesn't let her finish, slamming his glass down on the bar and walking off.
"you all look pissed," pansy stumbles over to the guys, who were seated in a secluded area of the manor that was somewhat devoid of all the noise from the party in the parlor, passing around a joint.
"not as much as you, it seems," mattheo chuckles as she falls beside him, head falling against his shoulder. "where you been?"
"drinking with y/n," she says, eyes slowly fluttering close.
"that was your first mistake," enzo tuts, taking a long drag and inhaling. "that girl can drink double her weight in alcohol."
"mhm," pansy hums, eyes fully closing as her body falls limp against mattheo.
"alright," mattheo shifts, just enough to wake her and get her up on her feet. "look like someone's had enough for the night. come on." he begins to the guide pansy out of the room, his eyes telling the guys that he'd be right back.
"what the bloody hell did they even drink?" blaise asks, shifting his eyes between theo and enzo.
"fire whiskey," theo blows smoke out of his mouth and takes another drag. 
blaise's eyes widen. "and they didn't think to share? bloody wankers."
"they were too busy sharing it with y/n's new conquests," theo replies bitterly, passing the joint off to him.
"seems to me she's sharing more than that," enzo cuts in, raising his silver flask to point at you and fred on the opposite side of the room, where surely enough, you were tucked between him and the wall, one hand beside your head and one hand on you waist.
"oh, bloody hell," theo rolls his eyes, pulling a chuckle out from enzo.
"who is that guy anyway?"
"fred weasley," theo grits out.
"you're bloody kidding," blaise snickers, leaning forward to flick off some ash from the a joint. 
"oh, i'm bloody serious," theo nods. "he's been eye-fucking her since she showed him the tiniest bit of attention. it was quite pathetic, if you ask me."
"what's with the bitterness, mate?" enzo asks, attention shifting to theo. "you jealous?"
theo scoffs. "jealous? please. non durerà in alcun modo." no way that's gonna last. you weren't exactly the "relationship" type.
enzo shakes his head. "no clue what that means, but it didn't sound nice."
"you know how y/n is," theo tells him, hand motioning towards you and fred across the room. "it's nothing but a game to her."
"so what?" blaise asks, handing the joint over back to enzo. "you bitter she won't let you play?"
"who won't let who play?" mattheo rejoins them, and sits back down beside theo.
"theo's jealous fred weasley's got his claws in y/n," enzo catches him up.
"alright," theo stands from the sofa, no longer wanting to hear anymore of it. "i'm done with this shit."
unfortunately for theo, the second he headed for the bar and away from the boys, you were also already there with fred.
"alright, freddie, what's it gonna be?" your body was bent over the bar counter, fred's eyes trailing over it as you tried to reach for two different bottles. "rum or brandy?"
"oh, i'm in the mood for something much tastier, love," fred flirts, causing theo to roll his eyes.
"bloody hell," you hear theo mutter, and stand up straight after taking a hold of the two bottles you were looking for. "can't you two do this elsewhere?"
"well, no one's forcing you to stand there and watch," you retort, eyes shooting him an ice cold glare.
"for merlin's sake," he groans, clearly frustrated. "if you wanna fuck him, at least do it in one of the many private rooms upstairs so you can at least keep some of your dignity."
the words fall out of his mouth before he can stop them, making you scoff and set both bottles down before getting close to him to make sure he hears you loud and clear. "fuck you."
you walk away from both of them and head for the corridor, while fred looks at theo.
"that-"
"don't fucking say anything, weasley," theo cuts him off, and leaves him behind, legs immediately following after you.
"y/n, wait!" he takes grab of your wrist and pulls to make you stop and turn to look at him.
"get off!" you shake his hand off your wrist, arms crossing in front of your chest as you looked at him.
"oh, smettila di essere una tale stronza," oh, stop being such a bitch. he tells you.
"you know what theo-" you start to give him a piece of your mind, when an uneasy feeling suddenly creeps into your stomach and slides up the back of your throat. 
fuck.
you immediately push past him to head for the nearest bathroom and he follows, as your knees hit the cold tile floor and reminiscents of what you ate before you started drinking came pouring out into the toilet in front of you.
"alright," theo winces, crouching down beside you to take a hold of your hair and gently rub a hand up and down your back. "let it out."
"ugh," you complain, swinging your bedroom door open and proceeding inside as you tucked your now messed up hair behind your ears. "this was not how this night was suppose to go."
theo chuckles behind you, closing your door and tossing your heels down on the ground beside your dresser.
"oh, i'm so glad you find this amusing," you spat, undoing your hair and placing the bobby pins down on your vanity.
"i just find it funny that even after two years of drinking, you still can't hold shit down," he says, taking a seat at the edge of your bed.
you mimic his words, but don't actually say anything. "ugh!" you groan loudly when it suddenly becomes much harder to tug your dress off. "why is this not-"
you stop when you feel cold fingers trail across and down your back, your skin feeling like over a hundred degrees. "hai dimenticato di aprirlo, farfalla." you forgot to unzip it, butterfly.
your eyes threaten to flutter close at the deep sound of his voice, goosebumps rising upon your skin, as he slowly unzipped the back of your dress. "theo…"
his hand lingers above your lower back, as he leaned down, lips just right above your ear. "potresti fare meglio di weasley, lo sai?" you could do better than weasley, you know that?
his breath on your ear makes a shiver run down your spine, as your head tilted back against him. "mostramelo meglio allora." show me better then.
to anyone else, this would seem odd. but to the two of you, this was just how you worked. one second you were bickering, and the next, whispering sweet nothings. it was a dance that you both knew all too well.
though the thread he used to keep you at a distance threatened to snap, theo holds himself back—you were draco's baby sister. he wasn't suppose to want you. he couldn't.
"dovresti dormire un po'," you should get some sleep. he lets himself stay beside you for one more moment, before finally pulling away—to your disappointment.
"you're not gonna stay?" you grab at the sides of your dress to keep it from falling down as you turned to look at him.
"non posso," i can't. he shakes his head at you, despite your forming pout. he didn't know what he'd get himself into if he stayed, and a part of him was afraid to find out. "buona notte, farfalla."
good night, butterfly.
part 2 coming soon!!!
re-entering my slytherin boys era bc tension with theo is the BEST kind of tension, and hopefully this didn't disappoint.
reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33
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