#I am begging for someone to ask me to do 'my wife left me'

[beskarfrog]

ice cream & Tatooine?

Anything for you, dear anon <3

date night on Tatooine, grogu is hanging out with ba'vodu boba, din has no idea how to flirt but luke thinks its cute anyway

truly awful palette challenge from this post

[myladysapphire]

Love, the death of duty

duty part two

married near six years, you learn that duty is truly the death of love, and yet when Robbs brother, jon, returns to winterfell, you find that perhpas you where wrong, perhaps love is the death of duty.

You can find the requests here and here

word count: 3,838

CW: MDI, 18+, Smut, cheating, p in v, fingering, oral (f reciving), slight breeding kink (if you squint), not beta read!

Jon Snow x Frey!reader/ Robb Stark x Frey!reader

Masterlist | Part one

dividers by @zaldritzosrose

Jon snow had been at the wall for near ten years before he returned home. Ten years, six as lord commander before he was betrayed by his own men. And though he had gone to the wall of his own volition, a choice he made to better himself, to find a place in the world, he knew it was time to return to Winterfell. His brother Rob had written him begging him and asking for his homecoming, and even declaring as King he could commanded him home, and now he was finally listening.

He didn’t know what to expect, if he would be welcomed or scorned.

But one thing he did not expect was you.

He knew his brother had married, had had children, but never did he expect you to be his wife.

Someone of such beauty and kindness, and with such a profound view of duty it made his heart ache.

He had expected you to be harsh, almost too similar to the lady Catelyn. But instead, you had shown him nothing but kindness.

“Jon Snow?” you asked, approaching his as he brought his horse into the stable.

“My lady” he greeted, head bowing in recognition.

“It’s an honour to finally meet you” she spoke, a soft smile on her lips. And Jon had been struck instantly by you, you smile had stirred something in him that he had never felt before. And the way you had gone out of your way to greet him, even walking him to his rooms, rooms you had picked and had made ready for him.

You had made him feel welcomed in a way no one had before at Winterfell. Of course, his half siblings had always welcomed him, but he never found a home here, until you made sure he did.

“How far along are you” he asked, as you walked him to his chambers.

“Near eight moons now.”

“And it is your third?”

You flinched, had his eyes never left yours, stuck on you at every moment, he was sure he would have missed it.

“No, my second” you spoke that part with happiness, the second however was a tone he had hear many times, the tone of a lady fulfilling her duty, “Robbs third”.

He had never thought Robb would father a bastard, he knew of Jons woes and how hard his life had been, and yet he had actively gone about it. He felt nothing but anger at the fact and even more at the clear pain in your eyes. It was clear from the start what your marriage was, there was no love or respect, simply wedding vows long broken.

He shook his head in disappointment, “I am sorry, my lady, I did not know” he hesitated for a moment, as the doors to his chambers opened. They were different from his youth, where he now slept in the same halls as his half siblings and not in the servants quarters as he once had, “Robb only spoke of a wife and two children, I never thought-“

“Do not worry, Jon…I am not offended” you shook your head, turning to face him, “it is something I must bear…not you”.

“I am sorry, my lady” he bowed his head, as he entered his room.

“I hope it is to your liking, I…Sansa told me a few things that you liked in her visit a few moons ago, and Arya helped find the things you had left from before”.

“It is perfect, my lady…truly it is more than enough”.

You smiled, insisting he call you by your name, “let me know of anything you may need” you said turning to leave.

And Jon remained struck by you and your kindness, not many would make a bastard feel so welcome, especially one scorned as you had been.

They say that duty is the death of love, and that love is the death of duty.

You believed you were the very meaning of this statement.

Your marriage was a one of duty, such duty that love had died before it could even blossom, and where Robb had neglected his own duty to you, in favour of love, causing duty to die for him, and love to blossom. But not with you, never with you.

You had known that every day of your marriage.

Even more so the day she had died.

He had spent every moment of her labours beside her, a vast contrast to yours.

Holding her hand and crying tears of joy and then of grief.

And you realised you were only a duty, a duty he happily forgot of.

And yet for a year you had chosen to ignore it, only for more hurt to be caused.

And in the  five moons since that day, the day where he chooses the ghost of a dead woman over his wife, you realised there would never be love where there was duty.

Though you painted the image of the dutiful wife, happy and content to be a wife, mother and lady, you still craved love.

Desired it.

Even if it was not with your husband.

There was nothing, not even respect to be found with him.

Not when know you lost all hope of ever having a marriage of love. It seemed to be the burden of woman. Where men can fuck and love as many women as they desire, woman are more often than not left with the duty of marriage.

You and Robb were strangers now, you had moved away from your old chambers, though still in the great keep, your rooms were now closer to Jon’s quarters than his.

Jon.

Your mind was stuck on him, though he seemed shy and guarded, you couldn’t stop of thinking of him. Assessing every detail of him, taking in every word he spoke, every action he did.

Of the ways his eyes followed you, how he seemed to hang on every word you said.

In all honestly, she sought him out more often than not, they even developed a routine. Spending their lunches together and always at beside each other at dinner.

And though you both had your duties, he had been given as hand of the king, and yet despite his ever-building duties, you both saw each other much more often than what was appropriate.

He made time for you where Robb neglected you.

He cared for you where Robb scorned you.

And as time passed, you found Cregan more in the presence of Jon than his own father, found yourself looking for Jon wherever you went you slowly realised that you loved Jon in a way you had only dreamt about loving Robb.

He was always there, either by your side or in your thoughts.

Whereas your husband was never there either in presence or thought, even less in the lives of his children.

He had no quells when Talissa mother came from the summer isles and took Minisa away, eland you had even less. A part of you wished you had cared more, having taken care of her for the past two years and yet you only felt slight relief when she left, though you would never admit it.

Even as you remember the conversation you and her had had years before.

“do you hate me?” you remember her asking, as she bounced baby Minisa in her arms, and you Cradled Cregan in yours.

“why do you think that?” you sighed, having only been civil, out of fear of facing a side of your husband you did not think existed.

“why shouldn’t i?”

“you are the reason I will never find love in my marriage, I resent you for it but I suppose you resent me for marrying Robb, for being his duty”

“I am more jealous, I am simple a mistress, the mother of his bastard, you are the wife the mother of his heir. You have everything-“

“no I don’t” you spoke softly, “I do not have love, respect or happiness in my marriage, I do not have a husband that wants me” you placed Cregan softly in his crib. “I do not hate you, but I will not be your friend…I can’t not when you have stolen the one thing I wanted…love”

“I didn’t mean too”

“I know, and that’s why I don’t hate you…Robb is the one at fault here, not us…and yet I must face the burden of his mistakes, I must act for duty where he can act for love…if I hate anyone it is him”

She nodded in understanding.

You stood in silence, watching your babes as they fell to sleep, neither of you saying a word.

As most of your time was spent with her.

“would you keep them apart?” she spoke after moments.

“they are siblings, half or not…I would not keep them apart if they did not want to be”

“good” she smiled.

And yet that had changed.

The day she died, the bed fever taking her and yet she had asked for you as she suffered in pain.

“do not hate her” she breathed, “I do not ask you to love her…but please don’t hate her” “I won’t” you swallowed, a feeling of sadness washing over you.

“my mother- my mother will come for her…please don’t let her” she breathed heavily, “I want her with Robb…please” she coughed, her eyes drooping.

Robb barged back in the room, stopping the conversation. And moons later you could do little to respect her final words as her mother took Minisa, little as Robb command her gone, and even less as a weight began to lift of your shoulder.

You hated it, how easy it was to forgo a dying woman’s final words, but you had forced her mother to write to Robb and allow Minisa to write to Creagan. You would let them know there sibling even if they were an ocean apart.

Your marriage was a farce and the birth of your second child was all the proof you needed to show that.

A moon since Jon return and yet you had grown more closer to him in a moon than you had with your husband in six years.

Where Robb had left both times you went into labour, taking days to visit, Jon had held your hand through it all, and had been the first after you and the midwife to hold the babe.

If anyone saw you both, the way he was with you every day and night, sleeping in your rooms, albeit on a coat, it  would have been easy to assume he was your husband, especially with the way his gaze never left yours, his hand holding yours through your pains and never letting go, even after.

“What will you name him?” he asked, after you had finally been left alone, the babe cradled in his arm.

“Eddard, mayhaps” you started, though there was hesitation at the name, “I know Robb wanted to name…to name Minisa that is she were a boy”.

“So not Eddard” Jon spoke, handing the babe to you, he crouched to your side, “mayhaps Edric or Benjen?” he suggested, Benjen you assumed after his uncle.

You hummed, “Edric is a good name” tasting the name on your tongue, “Cregan and Edric”

“So, Edric Stark?” he spoke, tone soft as he gazed up at you.

“yes”

With the birth of your second, you deemed your Marriage officially over, you had given him and heir and a spare and even then, his sister Sansa had married Willis Tyrell and birthed her own sons, and Rickon had begun to court an Erena Glover. You were sure Robb would find no shortage of heirs and so was he. And he was more than content to let you be, ignoring your presence at any time bar feasts and officially Gatherings, or on occasion the few times he and you were in the same room with your children.

You and Jon however, your friendship had blossomed into so much more.

With lingering stares and casual touches, you felt your heart blossom in his presence.

no longer did you feel the chains of duty, no longer did the word duty fill your mind and taunt your nights.

Now the word love did.

Jon had been here six moons now and you were thoroughly and completely in love with him.

Your mind was always on him, you time spent with him or your children. Even Cregan and Edric spent more time with him than Robb.

Robb seemed to care little for the family, stuck in his own misery, misery he made himself and every effort to get out of it was half arsed and only done as a distraction with no true meaning to it.

But Love, you finally knew what it was, you felt it when Jon looked at you and when you looked at him and yet neither of you said it.

Neither of you were prepared to cross the line.

You were still married by law and in the eyes of the gods, and yet there was no marriage. Nothing of your marriage followed the meaning of the word.

Your heart belonged to Jon, you just needed to tell him.

A year into Jons homecoming and your fleeting romance though nothing ever was said or acted upon.

But now you stood under the weirwood tree, your heart bared to Jon.

“Jon” you whispered, his head in your lap, your hand running through his curls.

“yes?” he hummed, focusing his gaze away from the book he had been reading.

“I…I love you” you final spoke, after moons of feeling it, of the sheer desire for him and want to bare yourself to him. And yet you had waited, for what you did not know, but today, in this moment it felt perfect.

He smiled, a pure smile of joy at your words, as he quickly moved of your lap “I love you” he spoke in return, his face moving inches away from yours, your breaths becoming one for a moment before your lips where on his.

You had never kissed anyone before, even after all these years of marriage, only a small peck on your wedding day.

But this, a slow passionate kiss, pouring every ounce of your emotions, your love into it was so different than a small dutiful peck.

Your lips followed his movements, moving with his, as he pulled you into his lap. Your hands moving to his hair as you continued to kiss.

A low moan left you, only to be swallowed by Jon as he began to kiss you harder, more passionately.

“Jon” you whimpered, separating your lips from his.

His face chasing yours as you moved away.

“what is it?” he hummed, his hands caressing your sides.

“anyone could see us…” though the thrill of being caught was not lost on you, you were still a married woman, and your children’s legitimacy would be put into question if you were caught.

He hummed, “come with me” he spoke, moving you off his lap before standing a reaching for your hand.

You had thought you had explored the gods woods in its entirety, found every nook and cranny and yet it seemed a youth spent running the woods had allowed Jon to find a spot only years spent getting lost in the woods would allow you to find.

It was a small cave, covered in leaves and blocked off by trees and endless bushes.

A small whole a the top allowed the summer sun to shine through, lighting up the small space and to reveal a moss covered floor.

“we could go back to your rooms…or mine” he spoke, hesitantly, unsure if you would approve of his small little space. It was clear that he had been here a good few time, like this was his space away from everyone, and the basket sat in the corner was a clear indicator of it. With a blanket, a book and an old bottle of wine.

you turned to face him, “its fine…we can save a bed for another time” you said, before leaning up and pressing your lips to his once more, in a heated, sloppy kiss.

He slowly backed you into the wall as he kissed you back, his hands gripping your waist as he began to play the laces on the side of your dress.

You gently pushed him off you, sending him a teasing smile as you started to undress in front of him.

You had never been fully naked in front of anyone, not even Robb, something always stayed on, a barrier from truly being intimate.

And as Jon joined you, undressing himself and allowing you both to stand bare before the other, you had never felt more intimate. Never felt that a moment was more right.

With you sat upon the blanket, Jon moved towards you, caressing your face and leaning his body over yours.

Your eyes locked in a heated gaze as your lips modelled together in a heated, passionate kiss.

His body grinding against yours as his hands moved to cup your breasts.

“your beautiful” he spoke, placing soft kisses on your lips, before moving down your body towards your breasts and placing soft kisses around your nipple, before taking your breast in to his mouth, licking and sucking as he did.

You moaned as he alternated between your breasts, Your gripped his hair, tugging softly at each flick of his tongue.

“your perfect” he spoke once more, letting go of your breast, “I love you” he whispered before moving down your body and licked at your folds, causing you to whimper and moan even more.

Your hands found there way to his hair once more. And they always seemed to, you loved his hair, his curls, even more so now as the peeped out between your thigsh as he lapped at your cunt.

“Jon” you moaned, as you felt a pleasure your own fingers nor Robb had ever given you before, it was overwhelming, the sensation filling your senses as he continued to lick at your clit, and slowly brought his fingers to your entrance.

Groaning as his fingers entered your, he relished in the tightness of your cunt.

He continued to lap at your clit as his fingers pumped in and out of you, licking at your heat as if he was a man starved and you were his last meal.

You felt your peak fast approaching, your hands gripping and tugging his hair harder, your legs wrapping around his head in away you were sure would choke him.

“JON!” you screamed as your peak finally hit your cunt clenching tightly around his fingers as you came.

You swallowed roughly as he moved up your body, taking your mouth with his in a possessive kiss, the taste of you evident on your tongue.

His hard cock was positioned between your thighs.

“can i?” he breathed against your lips.

“yes.” You breathed, and he finally entered you.

He slowly rocked his hips into yours, allowing you time to adjust to his cock.

After so long, with only your fingers, the feeling of a cock, of Jon was more than enough to send you over the edge as he became to thrust in and out of you, hi space moving picking up, as your legs wrapped around his waist.

He groaned into your neck, as your cunt tightened around him.

Your peak fast approaching.

“I’m going to cum” he moaned into you, as your cunt fluttered around his cock.

“gods” you moaned, your arms pulling hi closer to you, urging him to finish inside of you.

“where?” he breathed, his pace moving faster and faster as he chased his pleasure, as you came down from your own.

“Inside!” you moaned.

He looked at you unsure, but as your legs pushed in closer to you, your hands arms pulling you in as you urged him to cum, he let go and his seed filled you.

And a part of you hoped it took root.

Days blurred together as your affair blossomed.

You woke up and fell asleep in his arms every night. Every meal was shared. And you treated Jon like a husband, and you were treated as a wife.

Words of love and acts of affection was shared and no ounce of you regretted your actions.

Love.

The word circled his mind when he looked at you and Jon.

 Robb Stark, with all his faults and flaws, would be the first to admit he had ruined all chances of being a good husband the day he feel in love with Talisa, and now, when he had given himself into the desires of wanting you for a wife, of the comforts that came with it, he had gone and ruined it, worse than he ever could of imagined he would.

He was not cruel or cunning and yet too you he was.

To you he was a neglectful man, and absent father and a terrible husband.

He would be the first to admit that part was true.

But he was a good king, that had to account for something?

But now you had found love as he once had, but with his own brother and no part of him wanted to stop it, though he craved the idea of him in Jons place, as he was sure a part of Jon craved his own place.

He watched you both, how your eyes danced with one another in silent conversation only you both understood, how your hand was always touching him or his was always touching you.

That he thought he could live with, he himself a cheating husband. First a mistress now whores in brothels.

A wife having and affair with his brother was fine, as long as they were happy.                                                                      

Even after he had caught them in bed, or as she told him of the babe in her belly.

But then he started to watch you both carefully, how you interacted together in public and in private, of the makeshift marriage you had made, and of how Jon had become what he had failed at.

And he realised just how bad of a father he had become.

“father!” Cregan shouted in greeting, but not at him, at Jon.

He hadn’t even seen him, and had ran straight for Jon, who had swept him up in his arms and placed a kiss to his cheek.

It wasn’t his first time calling Jon father, and Robb was sure it wouldn’t be the last, not as you walked over, Edric in your arms, only for him to say “papa” at the sight of Jon.

He swallowed harshly, storming out of the room before they could see or hear him.

And he suffered the harsh reality that you once had, but this time, it was deserved.

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[igotanidea]

Just right: Anthony Bridgerton x reader

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

@pietrawebster @chrissisheadisinclouds @fuzzym4m4 @gloomysel @urfavnoirette @dd122004dd @milkbummm @bevstofu @taniasethi @syraxnyra @christinabae @pandoraneverland @bevstofu @topguncultleader @jana-jaeynneee @myaa21212121 @ziarah @cat-lockwood @leaf-rose-thorn @elissanatok @lily3450 @nervousmumbling @budugu @frickin-bats @sillyfreakfanparty @amberpanda99 @nycthophiliaa @myaa21212121 @bananaadeleigate @everybodystaycalm @fmhcatt @sankareatheundead @cat-lockwood @1potato2rulethemall @bloommart @lorinevv @taylorswars @jessiegerl @glocuseguardian3rd @angiieguevara @laurasdrey @jholiday @smailaway @some-random-stranger-007 @beckahhope @bookishtheaterlover7 @eclecticcollectioncloud @thingfromlove @dutifullyannoyingfox @kitkat14sblog @dancingandreadingwithv @heyits-zedo @superhighschoollevelnerd-blog1 @ben-has-arrived @kindaslightlyacidic @espressopatronum454 @miluiel1 @powellssaturn @jess4rush @krismdavis @yourgirlypop

[mossyivy]

how about a desperate almost ex-husband leon being extremely needy and trying to get his wife back not to divorce him

Anon, idk who you are but you better become a regular if these are the ideas you throw into my ask box. I took liberty in picking which Leon would best fit and I just... It's Vendetta. I'm sorry, wet street rat Leon just stinks of desperation and in need of attention.

Also I am so sorry this took ages to get to you. I've been on break and was going through it. Hopefully it was worth the wait 🤍

Slight NSFW/Alluding to Sex

Not edited/Proof Read

"Please baby, I miss you..." You listen to the last few garbled words from the old voicemail. You hadn't seen or heard from him in a month. No calls, texts, letters or even the occasional flowers or muffin basket he'd have delivered to your office.

You know you shouldn't miss him. The divorce was for a good reason. Or at least it was supposed to be. You still loved him, he still loved you, but his absence was getting to you. You knew who you were marrying, a government agent who wasn't home as often as he wanted to be. You were left to your own devices often. Left with friends. Friends who talked. Talked about how neglectful he seemed to be. You defended him with your life, knowing the good man he was and still is. They picked him apart in secret, threw his flaws out for display like some kind of rotting carcass you'd see on the side of the road.

But eventually they got into your head about deserving better. So, against all the arguing or begging on his end you asked for a divorce and filed. That was a few months ago. He's not even officially moved out of the apartment you two share yet but you're adamant on being separated.

He on the other hand is trying to hold on for as long as possible. At least you thought he was. He left for work over a month ago and you knew he was back. No state marshall or sheriff showed up to tell you he died.

Maybe he was trying to respect your distance and keep away finally. But then Jill sent you the E-vite...

One of the worst parts of divorcing Leon was you having the same friends. You were both civil. No one took anyone's side so you'd both be invited places, even after the separation. You take in a deep breath, knowing he'd definitely be at this dinner party. It was going to be a struggle but you're a big girl. You can handle anything.

Sucking it up, you step out of your car, fixing your dress in place as you look up at the condominium. Seeing the lights on the shared rooftop space gleaming against the dusk sky. It didn't take long for you to push the door open at the top of the stairs seeing everyone dressed in semi-formal attire. Long puffy sleeves swaying as you pull at the gold locket hanging above the sweetheart neckline. The end of you dress puffing out and brushing lightly against your opaque black pantyhose covered knees. Heels clicking against the concrete of the roof as someone calls out to you.

"Hey! Glad you could make it." Claire, one of the hosts, walks out a small group of people in her dark pink dress. She wraps you in a tight hug looking you up and down.

"Thanks for inviting me!" You look around the crowds of people trying to decipher who's here.

"Last time I saw him was with Chris like half an hour ago. He showed up early." Claire knew who you were looking for. You give her an appreciative nod and tell her you'll be doing your rounds to be polite.

After grabbing a glass of wine you start making your rounds. Feet starting to hurt from your heels, they always killed your ankles. Stepping to the side you bump into another guest and spill red wine on yourself. Turning you see Rebecca with her mouth open, shocked expression on her face, clutching the front of her green dress.

"I'm so sorry," she frantically steps over, examining the blotch of dark red on your dress, "Jill and Claire probably have soda water at their place. Why don't you go ask?"

You quickly find Claire, desperate to not let this stain stick.

"Just head down to the condo. Jill's down there babysitting dinner. It should be done soon actually." You nod, heading down to the condo quickly. Knocking on the door you hear loud footsteps coming towards the door. The door swings open, Chris looking down at you in his charcoal gray suit.

"Oh hey. You finally showed." You smirk, smacking his shoulder before going in for a tight hug. Squeezing you in his arms he lifts you, pulling you through the threshold of the condo. The door shuts as he walks towards the kitchen, setting you down in the doorway. Jill turning her head from the stove. Wearing a dark blue pantsuit.

"Hey!" Dropping the wooden spoon onto the stove she walks over, hugging you tightly. She looks down at your dress noticing the wine spot. "Oh God. It looks like you were shot."

"Red wine and Rebecca."

"Ah. Let me get you something for that."

Jill starts searching the cabinets as Chris leans against the kitchen island, arms crossed over his chest.

"How've you been with... Everything?" Chris grabs his beer off the counter, taking a leisurely sip. Watching Jill out of the corner of his eye.

"I can't complain."

"Yeah you can. You're getting a divorce. Can't be easy."

"Chris." Jill shoots him a nasty glare, standing up straight with a bottle of soda water and a cloth.

"What!? I can't be blunt with her now?" Jill sighs, sliding the stuff across the island to you, watching you grab them.

"You can use the guest bathroom. Our main one is being worked on. It's down the hall to the right. Dinners done so just head upstairs when you're ready."

"Thanks." You nod, walking past them both and down the hall and into the guest room. You don't flick the light on, walking through the moonlight cover room to the door and push your way in. Starting to work on the stain on your dress after. Blotting the wine out slowly, taking your time to draw it out. Working the wine out you look at yourself in the mirror.

Tired eyes covered by concealing makeup and a fake sense of happiness. You really haven't slept well in weeks, since the filing. It was weird going back home alone. A knock startles you out of your staring. You quickly access the damage, deeming your work satisfactory enough. Opening the door you're met with dark circles under icy blue eyes. Stubble surrounding plump rosy lips as he gasps.

Now face to face with your soon-to-be ex-husband.

"Hey..."

"Hey." You two stare at each other for a moment, no one knowing what to say exactly. So you start cleaning up and rinsing the rag.

"I'll be out of your way in a second."

"Take your time." He assures, putting a hand on your lower back as he passes you and steps to the towel cabinet, sliding one of the drawers open and looking for something. You continue to rinse the rag, watching him in your peripherals as he searches. Wearing his old dark blue suit and a white button up open enough to show off his collar bones.

The silence is so awkward you could feel your toes curling in your heels.

"You look good." He speaks looking at you, you shut the sink off looking in his direction with a small smile.

"Thank you." you look him up and down. Taking in the appearance of him being dressed up for once. You always liked him cleaned up. "You look like a nightclub owner."

He chuckles, smiling as he grabs a box of bandaids from the drawer, shutting it with his hip as he starts reaching inside the box.

"You hurt yourself?" The old tinge of worry hits you as he starts walking towards you, presumably leaving.

"Just a little cut. Tried to catch a knife and it didn't work out." He shows his left palm, a cut along the side of his thumb, still bleeding.

"Jesus Lee..." You turn the sink back on and make him shove his hand under the cold water to slow the bleeding. You start washing the blotch of blood already dried on his palm as he just lets you. You're delicate hands scrubbing the shell shaped soap across his paler palm compared to the slight tan of his skin. You feel his right arm move and slide around you, hand on your waist like it's still so natural as he fixes to your side.

You stare at his hand, watching the bleeding slow as you rinse his palm. But you finally notice he's wearing his wedding ring still. The black band that matches yours sitting at home in your jewelry box, collecting dust when it could be getting pawned like your friends suggested. But you've grown attached to it, even if it is a constant reminder of what was. You shake the feeling, turning the faucet off and grabbing the hand towel to dry the area.

"You know, I can do this myself right?" You look up at your reflections in the mirror, it's almost like he's watching you over your shoulder with how close he is. His eyes watching your every action so lovingly. It makes you smile and forget that you shouldn't be feeling butterflies in your stomach right now.

"You never do it right." You tease, feeling his chest press against your shoulder and back. Notes of citrus and buttery sandalwood touch your nose. Making his noticeable lean over your shoulder almost forgiveable as you apply the bandage on his hand. You feel his nose brush against your ear as you throw the wrappers in the tiny trashcan next to the sink.

"Leon... No." His hand squeezed gently as it moves down to your hip, he takes a slow breath in. Letting the scent of your perfume and shampoo fill his senses completely.

"I miss you..." His voice is so soft, his breath against your ear makes a bolt of electricity shoot up your spine and your skin tingle. Goosebumps forming over your arms as you side step away from him. Looking at him again, his eyes look filled with desperation as he tries closing the gap again.

"I've been thinking about you nonstop for the past month." You paw at the bathroom doorknob, opening the door and slipping into the guest bedroom. He quickly follows you into the dim lighting.

"I'm seeing a therapist now." You glance at him, turning away as you try making a break for it.

"Good for you." You misjudge your step and smack your foot against the table next to the door, twisting your ankle in the process. Immediately, you hunch over to grab your ankle and whine in pain.

"Baby..." He leans down looking at your ankle as it starts to swell already. "Come here."

Quickly you're lifted off your feet and being carried over to the bed, reminiscent of your wedding night. Leon sits, putting your legs over his lap.

"You know these heels are bad on your ankles." His hands slight over your heel, pushing the offender off your foot and doing the same to the next. His fingers glide over your ankle making you wince and whimper. "I'm sorry... I can't really see it well with the..."

His fingers pinch against your pantyhose and pull it gently. Looking at you as if asking for permission. His hands glide up your legs, looking at you. Giving a small nods his hands go up your thighs, pulling at the waist and down your legs. Dropping them with your heels. His hands linger on your bare thighs as he stares. Gripping with the tenderness you'd forgotten about, a small huff leaves his lips before you clear your throat.

"Leon..." He snaps back to reality looking at your ankle and rubbing it. You complain again, feeling your heart beat in you leg.

"Good news, it doesn't look broken."

"No shit." He smirks looking back at you, lips turning into a sincere smile as his brows drop.

"Still as snarky as ever..." It's your turn to stare now, watching his hands wander back up your legs and wrap around your knees. Pulling you closer and wrinkle the sheets below you.

"Who would I be without my smart ass mouth?" His eyes drift halfway closed, his body almost completely pressed against your chest with his own. His arm slides around your waist with practiced ease.

"Not my wife." His words flow so naturally. Like no time has past since the separation. Being this close doesn't feel nearly as awkward as you expected it to be. His hands are as gentle as the look he's giving you. That same puppy dog stare only you seem to yank out of the rough and tough exterior.

It makes you crack a smile... A smile you definitely shouldn't be showing so easily.

"I miss you." His voice is soft again, leaning closer into you, cupping your cheek with a callused hand. "Do you miss me?"

"Yes." The answer rolls off your tongue without a second thought. The corners of his lips turning higher, smiling brighter then you've seen in a while. He doesn't waste any time pulling you into his lap, smothering you in his embrace and pulling you into a heated and hungry kiss.

Hands traveling into every available spot on your body. Finally finding his way under the skirt of your dress and pulling your hips taut against his growing desire.

"Lee... We can't right now, they're expecting us upstairs for dinner." His lips meet your neck, kissing across your pulse and to your ear. Hands gliding over your skin as he pulls back from your neck.

"Why would I go do that when I got my favorite meal right here?" You laugh, the noise sounding like music to his ears all over again. Eyes turning to that loving stare, laying you down against the plush sheets and linens.

"Plus, you hurt your ankle. You need bed rest... And maybe I could give you a real reason to limp."

[fandomnerd9602]

Scarlet and Black

Wanda Maximoff x Deadpool!Reader

Based this Request by @sweetheartlizzie07

Please a story of multiverse of madness Wanda x Deadpool male!reader? And Deadpool male!reader is a very important member of illuminati and avengers? This takes place the whole illuminati thing and when (scarlet witch) Wanda came (nobody dies), (scarlet witch) Wanda is surprised in a good way that Deadpool male!reader happens to be the father of billy and Tommy. Deadpool male gently tells (scarlet witch) Wanda to let go of his wife Wanda

There she was, the Scarlet Witch, having hijacked the body of this universe’s Wanda Maximoff in a bid to get America Chavez.

She can and would rip through all of reality of it would get her boys back into her arms.

And so that led her to right here, covered in motor oil, eyes burning fiercely, and standing in front of the Illuminati.

The one you know as Reed was trying to say tell Wanda something about his own children

“Is there mother still alive?” She asks rather coldly.

“Yes” the genius you had called friend and at certain times Jim Halpert, answered.

“Good. Then there will be someone left to raise them” Wanda responded almost robotically.

“Sheesh! Witchiepoo, you’re so dark!” You call out from the elevator as you return from a solo mission clad in your classic Deadpool red and black attire. “Are you sure you’re not from the Snyderverse!”

Wanda immediately turns her attention to you. “Who are you?”

“The question, my spicy little taquito, is who are you and why have you taken over the body of one hot MILF?”

You look to Reed. “Go home to your Emily Blunt looking wife now, Jack Ryan. This is a lover’s quarrel”

The rest of the Illuminati left. Peggy gave you a pat on the back.

“You do not know who you are messing with” the Scarlet Witch spits out, “I am the Scarlet Witch”

Despite your tenacity for bad jokes, you were gonna have this resolve without a repeat of the X-Force incident. “The Scarlet Witch? Baby I thought we agreed to never use our bedroom names in—“

She hoisted you up into the air with a burst of her scarlet red chaos magic. “You talk too much!”

“I get that a lot” you strain to say, “by the way - hot, sweaty, wearing yoga pants and covered in motor oil? Hot. Are you sure today’s not International Women’s Day?”

She bent one of your hands completely backwards.

“Ah! That was my favorite hand!”

She broke your other hand, your first hand quickly regenerated.

“Wanda, please!” You found yourself begging, and not in the fun way, “don’t do this”

“I could pop your head like a grape” she intoned.

“The look of hate in your eyes…if my life wasn’t being totally threatened right now, I’d be so turned on…oh let’s face it. Everything you do turns me on”

The Scarlet Witch began crushing your entire body with her magic. “Why won’t you die?!”

“W-Wanda please don’t do this!”

“And why not?!”

“Because Billy and Tommy will miss their Papa!” You answered as you felt so many bones within you shatter.

Immediately Wanda’s eyes shot open, she dropped you to the ground, a broken mess.

“Ow. Well not the first time you left me a boneless mess. But last time was a lot more fun” you tried to joke as your bones slowly reassembled.

“Who are you? Really?” The angry witch came storming up to you.

“I’m your husband. Well on this world. Multiverse is so confusing” Wanda didn’t hear that last part, only the word husband.

“W-What?” She took a surprised step back.

“I know that’s what I say every time I wake up next to my Wanda. How the hell she ended up with a guy like me? Some divine conspiracy…or tumblr request”

The Scarlet Witch found herself kneeling before you, coming eye to eye with you. She tenderly took a hold of your mask and lifted it off, leaving your eyes looking into hers.

“Hi” was all you could say with a little smile. “I know…I’m not Hugh Jackman.”

She saw your face only briefly in the photos hung on the walls of your home. The ones of hers and yours wedding. Billy and Tommy’s birth and following birthdays.

Her fingers began tracing over your scarred face. Every surface, almost like she was tracing it to memory and also was memory.

“You’re real?” She began to tear up a little.

“About as real as Ryan Reynolds doing a musical based on a Christmas Carol. It really happened look it up.”

You gently take Wanda’s face in your gloves hands, “look here Sabrina the Emo Witch, you now know what I look like. You can find me on your word and go the long route to your life with me and our boys. Y-You can’t grab Billy and Tommy from elsewhere.”

The Scarlet Witch took your words to heart.

“Besides, I saw Agatha all Along and Billy is currently still in Westview.” You shrug.

“What?!”

“Yeah he’s in the body of some kid named Billy Kaplan. Soul switch thing, totally ripping off the Steve Trevor thing from Wonder Woman 1984”

“I-I have to…” she tries to think of what to say. You hold her cheek tenderly.

“Go Witchiepoo, go to him” you tenderly cheer her on. “And please give me my wife back. Because I am so turned on right now and I want my cuddly witch back”

Wanda’s eyes fluttered and convulsed briefly before she turned to you, confused. “Y-Y/N? Where am I?”

“My Little Witch! Baby!!” You exclaim before kissing her repeatedly.

“Why are we at the Illuminati headquarters?”

“Let’s just say you got possessed by yourself. But like a way meaner version”

Wanda shakes her head, “m-my legs feel weak”

You pick her up tenderly, “I know baby, your friendly neighborhood Pool guy has got you. And I’m never letting you go”

You kiss her tenderly and carry her out of the headquarters.

Doctor Strange and Chavez could only look on in confusion. “Was that superhero dressed like a gimp?!” Chavez asked rather confused.

“His face looked like the topographical map of Utah!” Strange exclaimed.

Tags: @lifespectator @supercorpdanbeau @sweetheartlizzie07 @scarletquake-n7 @iiconicsfan25 @idkwhatever580 @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @ma1egamer @dudesweet17 @texaswolf23

[iamyoursonly]

Childhood Best Friend (16/07/2024)

turns out my bakugo obsession wasn’t over so i’m writing him to feed my delusions because I saw this one line on tumblr and I had to write a whole story about it; i wrote this at 2 AM so it’s not the most creative hehe but bear with me

1.5k words — unedited

The thought of having a childhood best friend that you can keep in contact with really drives me insane, not in a bad way though, because it’s the kind of friendship that I crave. I have no idea how much time both parties dedicate to each other to maintain a relationship for this long, and I might be jealous of some of my friends because they have this and mine isn’t as ideal as I hope it was.

“Katsu?” My five-year-old self say, “Would you marry me when we grow up?”

The crimson eyed boy looked at me, holding out that ring pop he’s been eating for a while now and basically finished, “If you’ll have me that is.”

According to his mom, I went around kindergarten holding his hand and calling him “my husband katsu” for a while, and he was always around to protect me when kids doubted what I said. He’d beat them up or threaten them with his explosions saying, “You’re all just jealous that you’re not her, but too bad she’s my wife now so piss off.”

I was always around him and he was always around me, we were literally stuck to the bone.

“Katsu, someone told me I was ugly is that true?” I cried in his arms for the first time when I was six, and he rubbed my head and let me cry it out.

“Whoever told you that must have no taste, you’re breathtaking.” He says.

“What does ‘breaktaking’ mean?” I say.

“Breathtaking. It means you’re so pretty you take someone’s breath away.” He smiles, “I’m also beating them up for putting this nonsense in your head. No one messes with my wife.”

“Don’t beat them up though, please?” I look at him, and his rubs my head and nod.

This all disappeared when I had to leave to move away because my parents found a better job. I held onto his hand and begged my parents to let me stay with him and his family, he also begged, claiming he doesn’t want to be apart from “his wife”.

“Don’t forget me, Katsu.” I start sobbing, “I really don’t want to leave.”

“Can’t you stay?” He asks, red staining his eyes because of the crying he has been doing.

“I can’t, they’re not letting me.” I hold his hand harder, “Promise we’ll meet again?”

“Let’s become heroes together. I’ll become number one and you’ll be alongside me.” He squeezes my hand back. “Let’s meet at UA.”

“Promise?” I ask.

“Promise.”

We pinky promised before my parents shoved me into the car and drove away.

“Hit harder, you’re not doing it right!” My coach screams at me. “Okay, take a break you’re not thinking.”

I sit on the ground, stripping off my boxing gear then throwing them to the ground, “Fuck.” How am I going to be good enough to catch up to him? He’s gifted, hardworking and talented. It’s not possible to be on the same level as him without training harder, and I’m not even hitting right…

“I’m done, let me do it again!” I say to my coach, who’s wiping the pads I’ve been hitting. She smiles and signals me to start. I throw I few punches at her, then a few kicks, and some more punches. “That’s the spirit, young lady!” She says as I throw more kicks at her.

“Good work today,” She pats my shoulder, “See you tomorrow.”

I smile at her before packing my bags and leaving, stretching a bit before I take a taxi home to revise for tomorrow morning’s tests. I take out the small notebook I keep in my bag and start memorizing some main points from the book, “Mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.” I whisper.

I manage to get a taxi, I get in and sit down and continue studying. After a while, I look out of the window, slowly rolling down the glass after getting the driver’s permission. Feeling the night air against my face, I start to feel home sick. It’s been ten years since I left Japan, and I’ve been doing everything he would just so I can get in UA. And I miss him so much.

“Congratulations! You’re accepted into UA high school, we’re looking forward to seeing you on our first day!“

I scream at this news before telling my parents and they were overjoyed also. They willingly bought me plane tickets back to Japan and even called Katsuki’s family to have them take care of me for the mean time, in which they agreed to. And all I could think about that night was how happy he would be when he sees me again.

He was not happy, at least I don’t think he is. He has this scowl over his face and he’s gotten so tall and buff since ten years ago.

“You’re that loser girl I hung out with? I literally have no fuckin’ memory of you since you’re so fuckin’ insignificant to me.”

Wow. He’s definitely changed so much.

“Katsu, I kept my promise, I got into UA and now I’m back.” I say.

“So? What do you want me to say? Congrats? Yeah no shit, everyone craves validation when it comes to me.” He says, “Congrats loser, for making the bare minimum to get in like it’s fuckin’ challenging.”

Okay he’s just rude now, where was that sweet old Katsuki I missed. So I just rolled my eyes at him and went to their guest room to settle down. In which Mitsuki welcomed me with a whole party that Katsuki was not happy about.

New school year, new me. I wear my UA uniform, ready for a new school year with more fun and joy every year. Until some weird guy stopped me and Katsuki on our way to school.

“Hey girlie, you look so fine you should be called mine. Wanna go out with me?” He winks, and I cringed at him. Katsuki full on glared at him, looking pissed.

“She doesn’t wanna fuckin’ go out with you, why would she downgrade herself for a fucker like you?” Katsuki grabbed my hand and started leaving.

He told him off for me. He cares.

“Why are you even helping that whore?” That weirdo asked Katsuki, and he glared daggers into him.

“No one can say that to her when I’m around, say that again and you’ll lose your dick.” Katsuki threatens him again and wraps his arms around my waist.

He turns to me, his face so close to mine before he says, “Let’s go.”

Since when was his face so masculine and defined. He definitely had a big glow up because how could one be so breathtaking?

“Katsu.” I say, “What was that for? Thought you hated me.”

“Still do, but only I can degrade you.” He answers.

“Possessive much?” I joke, but I could feel his grip on my waist tighten. So I just shut up and walk with him.

When we got home that day, Mitsuki made us fried chicken and some extra spicy mapo tofu (katsu’s favourite).

“Remember when the two of you got married when you were five? Katsuki gave you his ring pop after you asked him if he’d marry you and he said something like ‘if you’ll have me’? Oh goodness I remember it like it was yesterday.” She chuckled with her husband as Katsuki and I stared at each other awkwardly.

“Shut up you old hag.” Katsuki says, his ears red, “I’m going back to my room.”

Before he leaves the table, he drags me with him and we enter his room before he locks the door.

“So,” He starts, “What now?”

I look at him, “You dragged me in, you tell me.”

“It’s nothing I just needed a break from them.” He shrugged, “It’s not like I’m fuckin’ embarrassed of us or anything.”

There was a moment of loud silence.

“Katsu,” I break the awkwardness, “Can we like start again?”

“Like what, pretend that you never left me?” He says, his tone sounded like he’s hurt.

“I didn’t want to, and you know it.” I look him in the eye, and he keeps the eye contact.

“Missed you so fuckin’ much and now you’re here,” He puts his head on my shoulder, basically whispering into my ear, “I hate how you’re my weak spot and how I can’t properly get over you even though we were basically children.”

“Katsuki, listen.” I hold his face and he’s so close to me I could feel his breath on my face.

“Yeah?” He looks at me, features softening.

“Be my boyfriend, Katsuki.” I murmured softly, “For real this time. I swear the only person I’ve loved is you.”

He laughed out loud, “Thought we were married all along, wifey.”

I hug him tight and he speaks, “Don’t leave me again okay?”

“Promise.” I chuckled, “Also you need to get me another ring, I might have left the ring pop with my family.”

“You silly bitch. You’re lucky I love you.” He gently smacks me.

“And I love you too.” I smile.

…“And now, I pronounce the two of you husband and wife.”

Maybe this childhood best friend thing that I had wasn’t that bad either, seeing how we have two children together right now makes me smile at our memories together as a child. My breathtaking childhood best friend and the pro hero Dynamight that I could call my husband until the end of time.

[heartfullofleeches]

[Tldr: Big spider wifey Yan and sweetie little human darling]

W...women... Tiny, kind-hearted Darling who welcomes the bitter rightful hier to their kingdom with open arms after she returns centuries after her trial and execution. Her new form frightens most, but Darling finds her piercing glowing eyes and ashened skin to be quite gorgeous. All those extra limbs she's grown would be wonderful for hugs. As the kingdom runs itself mad trying to find ways to defend themselves from the evil queen, Royal Darling is in their garden creating a bouquet of their favorite flowers to gift to her upon her arrival.

"You there... I've come to take what's mine. Give me my throne or I shall take it along with your head."

"...Okay! When is the wedding?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"T-the wedding?..... Seeing as I am the current ruler the only way you can become Queen now is if we are wed... Oh, is that not what you intended? I'm sorry... "

Darling knows the pain of being rejected by their people as well. Their dislike for their ruler has never reached the same scale as the former Queen's treacherous flock, but had there been anyone else left in Darling's family the crown would have been theirs. Nearly all of Darling's kin had been whipped out by some mysterious plague. Darling is all that's left and there have been whispers throughout the kingdom how unfit they are to wear the crowd for how soft hearted they are."

"hm, you are stronger than you appear. I suppose I can humor you for the rest of your natural life. I and the rest like me will outlive you and your people for eons...."

The Queen planned on killing Darling the day of their wedding. Did this fool truly believe she would want the last remaining member of that bastard bloodline who betrayed her to stay alive? It would be a spectacle for all to see, yet - as they day arrived her withered heart had changed its tune. Everyday since the Queen had agreed to Darling's proposal they waited outside her door with a fresh bouquet and handpicked fruits from their garden. They asked their servants to add minerals and rose petals to her water whenever she bathed so that the cracks in her skin hopefully never worsened. Though she never spoke back much in the beginning, Darling spoke to her as if they were already married.

It was almost.... endearing.

"Do you take this....woman to be your wife?"

"I do."

"And do you take this person to be your spouse?"

"....I do."

How humorous is it the Queen's rage was snuffed by a descendant of the people who made her as she is now. The new queen carries her adorable spouse in her arms every which way she goes. If her spies hear even a word of someone speaking ill of her angel for giving into her wishes so easily she'll have their tongue ripped out and fed to the hounds. The flower crown's Darling makes for her decay within a day's time atop her head yet she wears them with pride till the final petals falls.

[diaferia-dhades]

Tantrum - Queen of Onychinus

Sylus x MC (Fluff, a bit of smut, MDNI)

Warning: mentions of death(Sylus killed someone), mentions of sex, MDNI

Word Count: 1787, no proofreading

Preview: You got upset that Sylus decided to choose work over you. Not that you were in any trouble, you just wanted Sylus to be by your side. So you decided to throw a tantrum by going through a series of event just to show Sylus how upset you are.

I am extremely angry. My beloved husband still decided to go tend to his business in the N109 zone even though I begged him to stay home with me. He has left his poor wife at home all alone.

I might be overdramatic, but I believe I am being underdramatic.

Angrily, I grabbed my outerwear, shoved my wallet that contained that shining black card in my purse, along with one of his luxury car keys, and slipped on my high heels all the while I called several porters to the mall.

Since he doesn't want to spend time with me, then I shall spend time with myself!

I drove myself to the mall. The mall is the largest mall in Linkon. I parked my car and walked toward the first store.

I didn't even check any of the price tags. I see whatever is nice, I told the staff member to pack it with me.

A wedding dress, even though it's not my wedding? Buy!

An expensive wine bottle? Buy!

A luxury watch that I'm not gonna wear? Buy!

Whichever luxury brand I see, I go in, pick out several clothes, purses, and jewelry I like, and ask the staff to pack them for me.

Although I'm in a bad mood, my husband is taking all my anger, not those poor staffs.

Within a couple of hours, six of my porters are already struggling to carry all my bags and I already checked all the stores I wanted to. Let's go home, I'm already tired.

As I walked through the mall, I saw a lingerie store. I looked at my husband's card and then the lingerie. Then I have the evilest idea.

My dear husband will get notifications of where his card are being used at. Oh, my dear dear husband, hope you are looking forward to this.

I smiled wickedly as I walked into the lingerie store.

Sylus was prepared to enter a meeting when his phone ranged. He checked the caller ID and recognized it's from one of his bank. The specific bank that had one of his black cards.

Scowling, he picked up the phone. "Hello."

The other side sounded slightly panicked. "Mr. Sylus! I believe there could be fraud involving your card. There had been many purchases made in a short spam time, totalling up to nearly a hundred million."

Sylus narrowed his eyes. This is a first time he got a call saying someone is committing fraud using his card. "Where was the card used?"

"It's at a shopping mall in Linkon." The speaker listed some of the places in the mall where the card was being used. Sylus smirked. He immediately recognized that the stores were all where his beautiful wife would go.

As the list goes on, Sylus laughed. People around him were shocked to see the infamous leader of Onychinus have the ability to laugh.

"Let those payment go through. I know who made those purchases. She sure is very angry with me, spending this much already."

"I understand. I apologize for wasting your time. You have a nice day." The speaker said.

"One more thing," Sylus started. "Send me notifications whenever this card is being used. I'm very interested on what my wife is spending on."

"Yes, Mr. Sylus." and the call ended.

Sylus looked at his phone and smiled. His wife is throwing a tantrum. Although he doesn't like it when his wife gets upset because it breaks his heart a little seeing the sad faces his wife makes. But if she is spending his money the way he wants, maybe it's not so bad after all.

Sylus slid his phone back into his pocket and walked into the meeting room.

There are several bodyguards guarding the area. Two guards behind the man sitting across from Sylus. Two more guards behind Sylus, as if they were afraid he would do any funny business. All the while Luke and Kieran are outside the meeting room. His phone vibrated every fifteen minutes, indicating a purchase was made. He looked at his phone screen and took a sharp breath.

A purchase was made in a lingerie store. Sylus smirked. Feeling his pants feeling tighter as he imagined what lingerie she would get and what would she look like in it.

His phone vibrated again and he checked his phone again. A text message from his wife. He unlocked his phone and an image immediately popped up. His beautiful wife wearing nearly nothing except a deep red lingerie. The cloth that covered her breasts was so thin he could see her nipples through the picture. And her nether area was completely uncovered.

Sylus immedietly locked his screen, remembering there are guards behind him.

Oh, sweetie. You have no idea what you are doing to me. Because of you, I had to kill someone tonight.

Sylus slowly stood up, turned around, and faced the two guards. Their faces were slightly red.

"How much did you see," Sylus asked, voice deeper and more threatening.

The guards stood there, frozen.

"I'll ask again. How. Much. Did. You. See." Sylus cletched his fist, his voice become even more threatening.

"I-I-I-We-We-We didn't see much!" One guard stammered.

"Didn't see much indicated you had saw it." Sylus smirked. "Like what you see?"

The guards opened and closed their mouth like a fish, unable to know what to say.

"It doesn't matter." Sylus eyes darken. "My wife is so merciful. Allowing you two see a body of an angel before I take your life."

The guards started to stammer some apologies, but it fallen into deaf ears as Sylus used his evol, turning the two guards into nothing but red dusts.

Sylus then turned to the man sitting across from him. His eyes widened in fear, afraid Sylus would do the same to him as he did to the guards.

"I'm going have to end the meeting shorter than usual. My wife is calling for me." Sylus said, then immediately left the room.

Luke and Kieran stood outside the meeting room, nearly jumped when the door opened. Confused on why their boss left the meeting early, they followed Sylus.

"Boss, what's the problem?" Luke asked.

"Someone is demanding me to come home now." Sylus answered.

Luke and Kieran looked at each other and smirked. "Ah. We see."

Sylus can hear their teasing voice behind the mask but chose to ignore them. He cannot waste any more time. Someone is desperate.

I sent a selfie to Sylus of the lingerie I brought, hoping it would make him understand how much he fucked up.

Oh, but he doesn't know what else I have planned. I am so evil.

I grabbed the bag containing the lingerie and walked out of the store. "I'm done for today," I said to the porters and they all sighed in relief. I walked out to my car, with the bag containing the surprise for Sylus. I sat in the car and texted Tara.

Me:

Tara, bestie! You know the movie you always wanted to watch?

Tara:

Omg, yes! I have time tonight!

Me:

Let's go. My treat!

I smirked as i toss my phone to the passenger seat. Oh, my dear husband. You're in for a treat.

I parked the car at the front of our mansion. I already saw Sylus' car at the distant toward our personal parking lot. I left the car running as I walked out the car. I opened the front door, leaving it opened just in case. I walked toward our shared bedroom.

Sylus was on the sofa near the window. I walked over and he smirked as if he knew what I wanted to do. I dropped the small lingerie bag onto his lap and gave him a small peck on his lips.

"I'll wear it in a few hours." I said.

Sylus blinked in confusion and I took that moment to bolt out of our shared bedroom, ran down the stairs, out the front door and jumped into the car. All the while my phone ranged with the specific ringtone I had for Sylus.

I laughed as I drove away, back to Linkon.

That's what you get for choosing the meeting instead of me.

I parked in another city, just in case Sylus have a tracker in that car. My phone dinged with notifications.

Sylus:

Sweetie, what is the meaning of this?

I demand an explanation.

I know you can read this!

I smiled as I sent the final text for him.

Me:

See you in a few hours! Don't miss me too much.

I pressed send and turned off my phone and left it in the car.

I called for a taxi and met Tara at the movies. Feeling satisfied with the gift I had for Sylus.

The movies were good. I bid goodbye to Tara after we left the movie theaters. I called for the taxi and got back into my car. Then I took my sweet time and drove home.

"Boss is very angry." Kieran said. "What did you do?"

"I did what every good wife would do." I answered as I turned on my phone.

Then several dings of messages popped up.

Sylus:

Oh sweetie, you are a cruel woman.

I will make sure you regret what you did today. I moved all my meeting and work I have to do this week to next week. Hope you are ready.

I gulped. Uh-oh.

"Um, I forgot something in the car." I nervously said.

Before i could turn around, red mist covered by body and immediately dragged me into the bedroom.

Sylus was in bed. Furious. His eyes glowered as he shut the door and plopped me onto the bed. As soon as his mist let go of me, I quickly got up to try to run out the bedroom, but Sylus immedetly grabbed my waist and pushed me back onto the bed.

"H-Hello, Sylus, " I stammered.

"Hello, sweetie." Sylus smirked. "Hope you had fun."

I nervously chucked, "uh, how was the meeting?"

Sylus smile faded. "Changing the subject won't save you, kitten. Hope you know that."

Oh dear.

The entire bedroom, every piece of furniture, Sylus and I all done on it. The wall, the coffee table, the bathroom, the nightstand, the window. Everywhere. I swear we did all the positions in the book. We might've even made new positions. My back hurts. I can't feel my legs. Sylus is a monster.

I think I might get pregnant.

If I knew he could do it for an entire fucking week. I groaned. If I knew Sylus had that much stamina that could last for an entire week, I wouldn't have done this to him!

[mrsriddlenott]

Ex!Mattheo Riddle x Muggleborn!Reader

Angsty asf,Break Ups, Language, Voldemort, Wizarding War.

Summary: You and Mattheo were just wrong for each other, destined to be ripped apart. He hurt you trying to protect you, and even apart is trying to protect you still, but he can’t think of everything.

“We’re done okay, I am done. I don’t want this anymore Mattheo,” You screamed as he stopped, shocked in front of you, “I can’t keep doing this.”

“What are you- you’re not saying….” You scoffed as he approached you again, stepping back so he couldn’t touch you like he so desperately wanted to. “You can’t be serious y/n we basically just started.”

“No we didn’t! That’s the fucking problem, we’ve been doing this for months and I thought it meant something to you and then I find out your friends don’t even know who I am??” You scoffed, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms as he tried to speak, “You wasted my time, if you wanted to just be fuck buddies I’d have been fine with that and I would have kept it a secret for you if you asked but you made me feel like…..” You laughed at your own stupidity as you turned away from Mattheo’s pleading eyes.

“Princess I didn’t just-“ You cut him off before he could finish, turning back around yelling as tears welled in your eyes, “You lied to me Mattheo, you said you wanted something real, you told me you wanted someone you could trust and that you had finally found someone and all along you were the untrustworthy one!” Mattheo’s hands fell to his sides as he tried to form words, but nothing would come out.

“Were you embarrassed of me?! Is that why? Did you feel like all your rich, perfect friends would hate you for being with me or did you just want me for fun until you needed to find the pureblood future wife your father expects you to have!?” You breathed heavily as you registered your words, his eyes shone with tears at the mention of his father and only locked on yours for a second before turning to your door and tugging it open.

Mattheo stopped, weighing the odds before turning back to you with tears in his eyes, “I’d much rather marry you….but that can’t happen because he won’t allow it. I guess we did waste our time after all.” And in a matter of seconds he was gone, from the dorm, the school, from your life, no one actually knew were he went but there were rumors he left to join his father’s cause, which you just couldn’t allow yourself to think were true.

It had been weeks since you last saw his face or heard his voice, after months of seeing each other in every second of free time it hurt to wake to the reminder that you were alone. But today was different, when you dressed and returned to your bed after a morning shower a neat envelope awaited your arrival, you recognized his hand writing immediately and tore it open.

Y/n, I’m sorry. I can’t take back what I’ve done now, when you hear it you’re going to hate me and the thought breaks me. Please don’t blame yourself because I had to, I could never let him hurt you and despite everything I did to keep you safe he found out about you. He made me do things I can’t say here, things I see in my dreams on nights you stray from them but I promise one day you will be happy and safe. I will give up my life to make it so.

Tears blurred your vision as you tried to fathom what Mattheo had done, what his father could have forced him to do. What he had done to protect you. You crashed to your knees, sobbing and wishing you could somehow get a timeturner to go back to that night, beg him to stay, apologize for being so stupid. Of course he had kept you a secret for your own protection, the son of Voldemort couldn’t be walking around with a Muggleborn Hufflepuff who could barley pass by. He had kept his friends in the dark so they couldn’t tell anyone, he had snuck you around the school, not because he was ashamed, but because he wanted you safe. You had to get him back, no matter what he did in his father’s name he was yours and you were his, always.

By the next week everyone had heard the stories, Muggle and Muggleborns being tortured, “traitors” to the cause being executed, you didn’t know if he was involved, not for sure but a part of you knew. There were signs, people whispering about a new lord in training, a new way for Voldemort to gain power using his son as a weapon. It wasn’t long before most of Mattheo’s friends had gone too, making it all the more obvious where he had gone. It hurt you more to know he was doing it for you, every name of the missing and dead reminded you it was all to protect you. You began to lose hope that you’d ever see him again, that he was lost, forever his father’s minion.

You sat with your back against the cold stone wall of the astronomy tower, letting the smoke of an un-hit cigarette waft past you as you lost yourself in a deep thought. You had been having trouble sleeping, imaging the awful things being done to Mattheo and by Mattheo was bad enough but it only got worse at night. You’d found yourself gravitating to Mattheo’s spot often these days, and you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering what life would be like in a few months. You’d be gone from Hogwarts for good, and who knew what that meant for you now, you had just begun to imagine leaving into the world alone when the sound of rushed footsteps caught you off guard, but not more than the voice that came with the halt of shoes on marble, “What the fuck are you doing here?! I thought you’d be in your dorm,” He spun around to watch the door, cursing to himself as though a plan had gone terribly wrong, and you supposed it had.

He looked tired, his hair disheveled with large bags under his eyes and his voice seemed different, harder, “You need to get the fuck up now and run, just go hide somewhere please if they see you they’ll” He was cut off by the sound of more boots quickly ascending the steps up the tower before he was grabbing you and aggressively trying to shove you into a closet too late.

“There’s the girl,” a gruff male voice shouted as the door swung open, “Knew if we followed you we’d find her.” Mattheo’s head hung as his voice broke, “no, no, I didn’t do it all for nothing.” He turned quickly, his arms out and blocking you body with his, “He can’t have her, I did everything he asked.”

“Clearly not since you’re here,” a second, larger man, cackled out, “Didn’t Daddy tell you to sit tight up in your mansion Pretty Boy.” The man laughed as though he was the funniest man alive as everyone stared back and forth, recognizing all four of us wouldn’t be leaving this room if things didn’t go as planned. “He can’t have her.” Mattheo spat again, with less conviction.

“Well you know the deal Handsome, and the Dark Lord is tired of waiting on your decision, you take the mark, we leave this pretty little thing alone and you never speak to her again….if not we have orders to make her death last awhile.” You flinched behind Mattheo’s muscular frame, not at your impending, excruciating death, but at the thought of Mattheo officially joining the ranks of the Death Eaters. If he had the mark there was no way out, no convincing the courts to spare him, even if he survived after all he had done that mark is a one way ticket to a Dementor’s Kiss. “No Mattheo you can’t”

Mattheo turned to you as your voice shook, tears falling down both your faces as he grabbed your cheeks tightly, kissing you as though you were air and he was hyperventilating. His head rested on your forehead as he thumbed your tears away, “I don’t have a choice Baby, I love you and I always will.” He tugged you into his arms, his lips next to your ear as he whispered low enough just for you to hear, “I am going to do everything in my power to come home to you, but I want you to live your life, when you get out of here run and forget me, become a Healer like you wanted and know I’m looking out for you.” He slipped away from you, leaving one final kiss on your temple before he was tugged from the room and from your life.

And you knew, from your safety, that he had taken the mark and would eventually take his father’s place as the Dark Lord if the war didn’t end soon. Maybe then, with all that power, he could end the war and return to you, a fantasy that gave you hope in the darkest days of the war.

[bosbas]

Chapter 8: this is falling in love in the cruelest way

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy!fem!reader WC: 3.4k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, heavily going off of book canon, me stirring the pot (im sorry)(no im not), PINING!!!!!!!, anthony being very much in love with his wife

Summary: It took precisely two days in England for you to utterly despise Colin Bridgerton. It took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. But he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. You're set to marry someone else anyway, right?

A/N: guys i'm sorry but this picture is INSANE. the THIGHS??? HELLO? i am looking respectfully.......👁️👁️

June 5, 1816 – And yesterday, much to this author’s surprise, Lord Barlow reportedly proposed to Lady Montclair! This proposal comes unexpectedly after the Duke’s promiscuity with Miss Barrington at the Bridgerton ball a few weeks ago. Given the fact that Miss Barrington has been compromised, it is incredibly shocking that Lord Arthur Barlow would do something like this in polite society. Luckily, Lady Montclair remains a single woman and swiftly rejected her former beau’s proposal. But this only begs the question: why did the Duke propose? Is Lady Montclair simply too alluring to pass up, or is something else amiss between Lord Barlow and Miss Barrington? 

“Oh, thank God,” muttered Colin under his breath, his eyes quickly scanning Lady Whistledown’s column as he sat on a bench in the garden. 

“What’s that you’re reading, brother?” asked Anthony, ears perking up at Colin’s scandalous language, even if it was just between brothers. 

Colin felt a slight blush forming on his cheeks. He hadn’t realized he was speaking out loud, having been too caught up in the news that you had finally received a proposal from Lord Barlow. It was a lovely day out, and Anthony, Benedict, and Colin were in the gardens of Number 5 Bruton Street after a round of fencing. 

Of course, once Francesca had come outside holding a copy of Whistledown to read in the gazebo, Colin had stolen it out of her hands and abandoned his brothers in favor of catching up on the ton’s happenings. Though no one should have been surprised by his interest, really, given that you were the main topic of most of the gossip sheets nowadays. 

“Nothing,” Colin answered quickly, trying to recover from his blunder. “It’s bizarre how invested one becomes in Whistledown while living here. Is this what every summer is like when one isn’t traveling for half the time?”

“In essence, yes,” answered Benedict, still jabbing at the air with his épée as Anthony stared at him amusedly. “What does she have to say today?”

“Lord Barlow proposed to Lady Montclair yesterday,” said Colin, a slight edge to his voice. “And he looked a sight while doing it, too, apparently.”

Benedict dropped his foil, turning around to fully face Colin with a shocked look on his face. “And what did she say?” he pressed, intrigued about the outcome of this curious development. It was practically unimaginable that the Duke had proposed to you after defiling another lady in the ton, and Benedict hadn't considered him capable. 

Anthony clapped him on the back, smirking at Colin as he did so. “Well, did you not hear the man say, ‘thank God’? Obviously, she said no.”

Colin crossed his arms, immediately defensive. “It wasn’t that obvious! She could have said yes, and my ‘thank God’ could have been because she would’ve finally left me alone. Duchesses have a lot to do; I doubt she’d find the time to be irritating while attending to her duties in the country.”

Benedict and Anthony gave their brother unimpressed looks, watching amusedly as he squirmed under their gaze. 

“I assure you, brother, that there was absolutely no possibility of that being the case,” said Benedict jovially, earning a snort from Anthony. 

But before Benedict could laugh, too, Colin lunged at him, épée in hand as he glared playfully at his brother. Finding himself unarmed, Benedict yelped and ran toward the house, citing a very important painting to attend to before sprinting back inside. 

Turning to Colin, Anthony smiled curiously. “So, it’s true, then? What Daphne said?”

“What did Daphne say?” asked Colin innocently, dreading the conversation that would follow.

“Don’t be daft. That you love Y/N.”

Colin rolled his eyes, letting out an impatient sigh. “I don’t love her; that’s ridiculous, Anthony! A mere two weeks ago, we absolutely despised each other. I hardly think I could love her now.”

But even as he said those words, Colin questioned whether he actually meant them. Could he love you? He hadn’t ever felt this way about anyone, but then again, no one had ever vexed him quite like you. Though lately, he had been finding the line between irritation and fascination to be quite blurred. So blurry, in fact, that he was having trouble seeing a line at all. 

Having clearly overheard part of the conversation, Gregory ran up to his brothers, laughing hysterically as Hyacinth chased him. He stopped and let his sister catch up, smiling evilly at the older Bridgertons “Colin loves who, now?” 

Hyacinth arrived a few moments later, panting heavily. “Y/N, of course,” she stated while trying to catch her breath, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 

“What? What do you mean? Why do say that?” pressed Colin. Why did everyone in his family seem to think that he loved you? Surely they saw the two of you bickering incessantly, right? Your feud was so famous it had even made it to Lady Whistledown’s column. Colin couldn’t understand how anyone could think he had so much affection for you. 

Hyacinth raised an eyebrow at her older brother, unamused. “Colin, I am not an idiot. Though perhaps you might be,” she added brightly. And before Colin could respond, she quickly turned to her eldest brother. “Now, Anthony, could you please tell Gregory to give me back my quill?” she begged.

Gregory, scoffed, glaring at his sister. “I’d only borrowed it for a moment! And I only did so because Hyacinth hid mine! Anthony, she’s being unreasonable,” he whined.

Anthony affectionately patted them both on the head and flashed a faux sympathetic smile. “I rather think both of you are being quite the nuisance right now.” 

At times, Anthony found himself slipping into the role of a father figure to his youngest siblings. It was an unspoken duty he assumed after their father's passing. Yet, it was important to occasionally remind them that he was still their brother.

Hyacinth responded with a frustrated groan, her teeth grinding audibly, thoroughly vexed with her brother. However, the sight of Gregory's smug smile reignited her fury, and she immediately charged at him. Despite being older than Hyacinth, Gregory wasn't foolish enough to underestimate her, and he took off in a panic, screaming as he tried to outpace his deceptively quick sister.

Colin shook his head in amusement as he watched the antics of his youngest siblings. “Were Daphne and I truly like that?”

“Worse,” said Anthony flatly, but he couldn’t mask the warmth and fondness interlaced in his words.

At that, Anthony began to turn back toward the house. “Well, I must be-”

“Wait!” interrupted Colin. He wasn’t entirely sure why he had stopped his brother, other than the fact that he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the possibility that he could love you. You, the person he supposedly hated. The person who certainly hated him. 

But, as always, Anthony was the right person to talk to about this. He would know what to say. Though it was well known that Anthony was completely smitten with his wife, Colin remembered a time when the pair seemed to dislike each other fairly intensely.

After a few moments of charged silence, Colin met Anthony’s expectant gaze. Swallowing his pride, he spoke up. “Purely hypothetically, and simply out of curiosity, when did you fall in love with Kate?”

Anthony smiled, amused. “Hmm,” he hummed thoughtfully, putting a hand to his chin. “As long as it's purely out of curiosity,” he teased. “It wasn’t like I simply fell in love with her one day, Colin.”

“Yes, but if you had to pinpoint a moment?” pressed Colin, slightly exasperated. If anything, he needed to know if he had experienced that moment himself.

Anthony’s gaze softened, and he suddenly saw a lot of himself in Colin’s uncertainty and pause when it came to a woman who profusely vexed him. “I found Kate in the library the night after we played Pall Mall for the first time,” he recalled fondly. “We were at Aubrey Hall for the country party and it was raining outside quite loudly, a terrible storm. She was huddled underneath a desk because she was scared of the storm. I very quickly realized I couldn’t hate her anymore. Not properly, anyway. Not when I just wanted to sit on the floor with her and protect her from the storm, and anything else that might come her way.”

His voice had softened as he spoke about his wife, recalling the moment he truly knew there was no way out. Anthony had tried to deny it to himself after, but his protests simply held no conviction after that night. 

“You never told me that,” said Colin thoughtfully, not missing the glint of emotion in his brother’s eyes as he talked about his now-wife. 

“Yes, well, the real challenge was getting her to love me back,” he said, coming out of his musings. “And that didn’t happen for quite some time after that. It was rather premature of me to declare my love for this woman while I supposedly hated her and was still technically courting her sister.”

It was truly a wonder that he and Kate were married now. But when it was meant to be, it was meant to be, Anthony supposed. Something that was proving to be particularly true of you and his brother. If Colin, who had a deep-seated need to be liked by anyone and everyone, could fall in love with you, the only person who didn’t actually like him, then surely it was meant to be.

Colin, still deep in thought, chewed his lip nervously. “And how did you get her to fall in love with you?”

“We were caught in a… compromising position. She had been stung by a bee and I… Well, I’m sure you recall,” said Anthony, suddenly feeling uncharacteristically shy as he remembered the circumstances that allowed him to marry his wife. “It’s far easier to get a woman to love you when she’s already your wife,” he finished sympathetically. 

Colin choked back a laugh. “Unfortunately, I can’t very well put Lady Montclair in a compromising position, can I?” he laughed, shaking his head in disbelief.

“But Colin, I thought this was all hypothetical,” teased Anthony, playfully punching his brother on the shoulder. 

Colin cursed under his breath, rolling his eyes in annoyance as Anthony continued laughing at him. “Never mind. I’m off to find Eloise,” he muttered, patting the eldest Bridgerton on the back and leaving him free to go dote on his wife. 

After speaking with Anthony, Colin had a renewed sense of purpose. He had to find out why you hated him. He was so utterly exhausted of hating you and of having this tiresome charade of fighting with each other at every available moment. At this point, he didn’t particularly care who in the ton liked him or not. Colin knew he would happily take the entire ton’s wrath for the rest of his life if it meant you loved him.

But he needed to know just how unrealistic his hopes were. Eloise would be the best–and perhaps only­–person who would know. 

Colin found his sister practicing needlepoint in the sitting room, focused intensely on the material in front of her. It was unclear whether she was trying to sew the fabric or her finger, given how often she was pricking herself as she attempted to thread the needle. 

“El!” he called by the doorway, pausing when he saw his sister grimace after pricking herself once again. “I can return later if you’re busy.”

“No! No, please interrupt. Thank heavens,” gasped Eloise, grateful to be able to do something other than draw her blood. 

Colin laughed, amused, and suddenly felt a tad sheepish. Was he truly about to ask about you? To ask about you to Eloise, who would no doubt hold this over his head for the rest of eternity? But he had to know. He had to ask, at the very least. 

“I was just…I was wondering if you knew why Lady Montclair hates me,” he asked, clearing his throat awkwardly. 

Eloise let out a snort. “Well, I can’t imagine she’d be hard-pressed to find a reason why, given how you treat her.”

Seeing her brother’s crestfallen face, Eloise immediately sobered. Standing up and walking toward him, she placed a reassuring hand on his arm. “I thought you disliked her as well,” she said in a questioning tone.

“Of course I do,” clarified Colin quickly. “But she hated me first and I still don’t know why. I thought she might have said something to you, given how close the two of you are. Do you know at all?”

Eloise clicked her tongue in sympathy, looking at Colin with concern. Perhaps his feelings did run deeper than anyone thought, and the recent dancing and promenading were more than just Colin being his usual charming self around you. “I’m sure I have no idea, Col. But you could always just talk to her.”

Colin shook his head, smiling sadly at his sister. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? She doesn’t usually seem very eager to speak with me.”

Sure, the two of you had been getting along recently. But that had only been twice. And was that really enough to undo the weeks of hatred?

---

It was a particularly delightful Wednesday afternoon, and you found yourself feeding the ducks at Hyde Park as you watched Isabelle and Charlotte skip rocks across the pond. Though you loved Louis to bits, it was a lovely feeling to have both of your sisters home with you. There was simply something about being out in society that he could never quite understand like them, though not for lack of trying. 

After lunch, you, Charlotte, and Isabelle had managed to sneak out of the house just as the post-meal discussion grew rowdy. It was not unheard of to have such lively discussions in the Montclair household, and you frequently even enjoyed them. But there were some days, like today, that you frankly just wanted to have a quiet afternoon with a baguette and about a dozen ducks. Luckily, your sisters had decided to join you, and the three of you had set off toward the park in search of a flock of birds to feed.

It seemed that the ducks had taken much more of a liking to you than to your sisters, and they had grown disinterested in the endeavor. Charlotte and Isabelle had opted to give you their remaining bread and take a stroll around the mostly empty park, and you couldn’t say that you were complaining. Coming from such a large family, it was a rare luxury to have an afternoon largely to yourself. 

A while later, after most of the ducks found themselves happily full, you spotted a stumbling figure making its way toward you. As you turned to your sisters with a questioning look, you were disappointed to find them in deep conversation facing away from you, neither one of them noticing you. 

As the figure neared, you realized who it was: Nigel Berbrooke. Your heart skipped a beat and you felt your stomach drop, unpleasant memories of him and his disgusting words flooding your brain. You had no desire to speak to this man, and you looked around for anyone you could speak with instead. But you had not brought a lady’s maid, and everyone else was too far to intervene.

“Lady Montclair,” said Nigel, with what looked to be an attempt at a seductive smile on his face. 

You stood up from your crouching position rigidly and turned to face him. You were unable to form any words, discomfort far outweighing any other emotion you were feeling. This had to be his first time back this season after his absence, you thought. You hadn’t seen him at any events since the Danbury ball, and you rather thought you would have noticed him, looking as vile as he did now.

His nose was a tad more crooked than on the night you had met him, and the bags under his eyes were ghastly. But perhaps it was just your perception of him, knowing what you did about who he was.

“Mr. Berbrooke,” you settled for saying, nose crinkling as you caught a whiff of the pungent smell of alcohol emanating off of him.

“A promenade?” he asked roughly, reaching for your hand without permission. “It’s a lovely afternoon, it would be a shame to waste it.”

“Oh, Mr. Berbrooke, we were just about to head home,” you pointed your head toward your sisters, panicked. 

Isabelle and Charlotte were far too immersed in their conversation to look like they were ready to head home, but you prayed that Nigel’s inebriated state would distract him from this.

He growled at you, clearly displeased at your rejection. “I’ve been keeping an eye on you, Montclair. Your dowry, as well as your other…assets, are far too good to pass up,” he slurred, very obviously staring at your chest. “It’s a shame Colin’s gotten to you first.”

You were scandalized, opening your mouth to chastise him, or to scream for help, or anything that could get you out of this situation, really, but he cut you off before you could say anything. 

"I've heard Lord Barlow abandoned you, and truth be told, it's hardly shocking," he taunted, his voice laced with disdain as he regarded you with a sneer. "You insist on playing the coy maiden, denying every man what he craves. It's the only reason they’re after you now, you see? They want what you didn't give Arthur. And it appears Colin has taken the lead in the chase, the lucky bastard."

His words brought you crashing back down to reality. Of course, he was colluding with Colin. You had conveniently overlooked that fact as you found yourself becoming bashful in his presence, feeling secure, even desiring his company after these recent days. A surge of bile rose in your throat.

You felt tears prickling in your eyes, and you were impossibly angry with yourself for forgetting the very reason you despised Colin Bridgerton. How could you have let yourself forget? He was still the same man you overheard at the Danbury ball, and you were too embarrassed to admit that his charm had worked on you. 

You were disgusted with Nigel and Colin, but also with yourself. You were more than this, you chided. How could you have let this happen? The two men were clearly no good, and you had unwittingly allowed yourself to be ensnared, much like you had with Lord Barlow.

“Excuse me,” you said roughly, dodging Mr. Berbrooke’s outstretched hand as you ran toward where Isabelle and Charlotte were standing, propriety be damned. 

“On va chez nous. Tout de suite,” you said to them urgently, practically begging as you tugged on Isabelle’s hand (We’re going home. Right now). 

Charlotte looked at you, confused, and then noticed you glancing nervously at Nigel as he approached, angrily staggering over to you as his face contorted into an ugly scowl. 

“Ah, I’m terribly sorry Mr. Berbrooke,” Isabelle said firmly, “but it seems we have to go.” 

Not waiting for a response, your sisters hooked their arms in yours and hurriedly walked back from where you came. They’d be damned if he let anything else happen to you after what happened with Lord Barlow, and they were not about to waste any time.

Nigel only grunted, displeased, but let the three of you go without protest. Both of your sisters’ husbands were very powerful men, and Nigel was not so deluded as to forget his place in society.

“Y/N?” Charlotte questioned softly once you were sufficiently far away enough. 

But you were too embarrassed, tears streaming down your face as you choked back sobs. How could you have let yourself fall for Colin’s charm? You knew exactly who he was, and you had ignored it anyway. It didn’t matter that he made you feel safe and that the two of you had more in common than you cared to admit. He would never respect you, and you could never love him. 

Nigel had come at just the right time, you thought sullenly. Right as you were thinking you could finally overlook your rivalry with Colin, right as the memory of why you disliked him in the first place was fading. And thank heavens he did. You would not be taken for a fool again, by Colin or by Lord Barlow or by anyone. 

—

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[readychilledwine]

Broken

Rhysand x Winter Court OC

A/N- Happy day 3 of my Here's to 100 week! I wanted to give angst a try a few weeks ago, and I am kind of proud, kind of not proud of this piece. I think this is something that could become more, and I've left it open to more, but I don't really know if I want this OC to have a happy ending, or a tragic one. If I add to it, it might be a roll of the dice thing to decide.

Summary - Rhysand is finally home from the Mountain, but he's home with news that shatters Aelia, his wife's world, from under her feet.

Warnings - alludes to a panic attack kind of angsty.

Part Two Part Three

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This wasn't a conversation Rhysand wanted to have with Aelia.  "It's not your fault," she whispered softly. "It's just the hand you were dealt. I get it." She stood and began to move to walk out of the room. She needed to leave the room. Panic had set into her chest, tears were beginning to form in her eyes. 

"Aelia," he strained out. "Please."

His heart was breaking as she dropped her hand from the door and looked up. He watched her hand run through her hair again. The snow blonde curls were a mess from her hands constantly running through it and pulling at it. He wanted nothing more than to brush it, to bring her to his bed, and to play with it. "Rhys, I need time. You need time."

"You're my wife. The mother of my child." His voice held a tone of desperation. 

"And she's your mate? I can't win here Rhys." Rhysand stood. Caging her body between him and the doorway. His head rested on her shoulder.  "I need to go, Rhys. I can't watch this."

"Please don't leave me." Her eyes squeezed shut as tears began to openly fall. He was breaking behind her, and she was shattering before him. Hundreds of years of love, of laughter, of joy. Hundreds of years, just gone.

"What am I supposed to do, Rhysand? Sit here and warm your bed until she realizes Tamlin isn't the one? I need to start looking for somewhere for Nyx and I to go."

"Your place is here. Our son's place is here. I don't want her, Aelia." His voice cracked as he began to sob. "I've only ever wanted you. I love you. I'm in love with you."

Aelia wanted to believe it. She wanted to believe none of this mattered. That the female he was bound to didn't matter.  She knew it did, though. She knew this changes everything between them. "You found your mate, Rhys. That's going to change."

His eyes were squeezed shut as he forced her into his chest. "No, it won't. I'll reject the bond." She shook her head softly. Azriel would murder her if she asked this of Rhysand. Azriel had dreamed of finding his mate. He had begged them to think getting married through, but they impulsively had. And Rhys had sworn her in as High Lady. And now they had a son together. A son who was 60 and would understand exactly what all of this meant. 

"I can't ask you to do that, Rhysand." 

"You aren't asking me to. I am telling you I'm going to." He forced her to turn in his arms, pulling her tight to his chest and holding her. "Just give me time, snowflake, please." She nodded. The smallest smile broke onto Rhysand's face, not reaching his eyes, as he kissed her roughly.

(1 Month later)

Cassian watched in silence as Nyx packed his things. His high lady was not dumb, but the choice she was making was stupid. And her son was blindly following right behind her.  "This isn't necessary," Azriel said softly to their nephew. "Talk to him first."

"What is there to talk about," Nyx turned to Azriel. "How about the fact that he fucked someone besides mom for past 50 years. Or the fact that the first thing he says to mom isn't something caring or loving. It's "I found my mate."  Azriel and Cassian shared a look as Nyx threw a few weapons into his bag.

"We've given him a month and now he's in Spring. With his mate. Instead of here with mom and me. Do you know how much I've actually seen my so-called father since he came home?" Nyx looked at Azriel, a raven brow raised. They all knew the answer to that question. 

Rhys had not made time for his son, nor his wife. When his own dreams weren't turning every waking moment of his reality into a nightmare, Feyre's were destroying him slowly from the inside. The moments Rhys spent with Aelia were spent loudly arguing. They were spent with the couple in tears as their relationship finally had to face 50 years of strain and hardship.

Nyx threw the shirt he was holding into his suitcase. His anger and sadness were radiating from him. "We're leaving. It's what's best for mom, for me, and probably for Rhysand." They knew better than to argue with the young male. The love Nyx had for his mother had always, and would always trump everything. Including his loyalty to his court, to the warbands, to his uncles.

"You are the heir to the Night Court," Azriel said slowly. "He isn't going to let either of you go without a fight." 

Nyx shook his head. "I don't give a fuck what I am to him. Carthanian, heir, illyrian soldier. I am my mother's son first." Aelia came back down the stairs with the bag she had been packing. She had been crying, but she forced a smile for her son. She had been forcing a strong outward appearance for the court and Inner Circle for the past month. She held her hand out to Nyx as he picked up his bag. 

"Are you sure, Nyxie?" They knew she gave him the choice. She had told Nyx he was welcome to stay. That she wouldn't hold it against him, but her son had picked her. He nodded to her, grabbing her hand in his and walking with her. Azriel knew where they were going, and Aelia knew her brother in law would know. She also knew he would not tell Rhysand until he knew if her heart was safe in his hands again. 

Azriel followed them to the door, his hand on her back as he whispered softly in her ear that he would be trailing them until he knew they were safe, that he would be checking in, that he loves them. Azriel watched as they winnowed with one last look shared between him and Aelia.

"He's going to lose his fucking mind," Cassian whispered. Azriel nodded to him slowly. "Does she know he's in Spring rejecting the bond right now?"

"No. All Mor told her is that he went to Spring."

Rhysand came home, hours later, to an empty house. The faelights were dim and the scent of his wife and son was fading as if they had not been here recently.

"Aelia! Nyx!" He walked around the Riverhouse. Checking every room for them. Each door opened felt like a nail pounding into a coffin as he found empty room after empty room. He stopped as soon as he hit his wife's office. Hands shaking and  silently praying to anyone who'd listen she would be inside. He opened the door and felt hope leave him.

An envelope with his name sat neatly on her desk, and Azriel and Cassian were in the room. The two refused to look at him as Azriel handed Rhysand the letter. 

Rhysand,

By time you're reading this, Nyx and I will have left. Mor let me know that you were going to Spring. That you were planning to see your mate. I do not want to stand in the way of your happiness. 

I know we always promised each other joy and peace. We just had hoped it would never come to us not being the source of those things for each other. You have brought me more joy and happiness in the past 300 years than I deserved to know, Rhysand. It is only fair I give you the same chance to find that.

Please know I gave Nyx the choice to stay. I let him know I love him either way, that you love him either way. Ultimately, we would both want him to be where he felt happiest. He made the choice to come with me. He said he may come back at some point, but his anger at this situation is… strong at the moment. I'll continue to try to talk to him and try to get him to come at least to the Moonstone Palace once a week to meet with you. Please try to understand things from his side. He's young. He's impulsive. He's hurting. This isn't what he had in mind, nor what he ever pictured, all those years he'd dream and talk about "when daddy came home." He loves you, Rhys. He's just lost right now. We all are.

I love you, Rhysand. I hope you find the bliss  you need and deserve.

Forever yours,

Aelia

Rhysand read the note over and over. "Where did she go," he growled. "Why did Mor not tell her why I was in Spring."

"We don't know," Cassian said. "We haven't seen Mor since she told Aelia."

"Where is she, Azriel?" The shadowsinger looked at his brother, taking a sip of the whiskey he had poured himself. "Az, where are my wife and son?"

Azriel shook his head. "They need time, Rhys. You also need time. You need to heal. To regain a grip on yourself and your surroundings. You rejected your mate, Rhys. For her and Nyx's safety, I need to keep you away from her." 

Rhys felt his hands shaking, tears beginning to fall. He felt his world crashing down around him. "I didn't even have to reject the bond. I spoke with Feyre about it and she did it. She flat out asked me why I'd be dumb enough to believe she'd leave the male she gave her life for just because of the Cauldron." Rhys chuckled bitterly. "And now my wife and son are gone." They watched as Rhysand sat down in a chair, staring out the window. 

Azriel knew this was a guilt trip. He nodded, playing with Aelia's favorite pen. "I will not tell you where they are. You will not guilt me into it, and if you command me to, Rhysand, I will never forgive you." Azriel stood and walked to the window. "I promise you she is safe. I have a shadow trailing both of them."

Rhysand scoffed lightly, refusing to look his way. "It is good to know where your loyalty truly lies, Azriel. Get out, both of you. I want to be alone." 

Cassian looked at Az, then Rhys. Azriel was taking the insult. He did not argue. He did not bite back. He was refusing to give Rhysand the fight the male clearly thought he needed. "Rhys, she-"

"Get. Out." The faelights flickered with Rhysand's anger, tendrils of darkness and mist flaring around him. "I'll find her myself. Since my spymaster is incapable of giving me the High Lady's location." Another insult Rhysand knew deep down his brother did not deserve.

He waited until the door shut, until two sets of footsteps and muffled voices faded. Once Rhys knew he was truly alone, he felt the first broken sob fully tear through his throat. He allowed himself this moment to fall apart, to break into one thousand tiny pieces as his heart fell from his chest. He allowed his breathing to become uneven, rushed. He allowed that feeling of nothing, yet everything all at once to hit him. That feeling of never being enough, of being too much. 

Cassian found him the next morning asleep on the floor to Aelia's office. "Rhys," he gently touched his shoulder. "Rhys, I have a letter from Nyx. It's for you. I need you to get up." Cassian needed to know the contents of the letter as much as Rhysand would. He shook his brother again, slightly smiling as he stirred. 

"Go away, Cassian." Rhysand's voice was like gravel, his eyes still slightly red and swollen. "Why the fuck are you here?"

Cassian held the letter up. "I need you to open this so we both maybe get answers. He won't tell me anything either, Rhys. He says once he knows she's safe from your emotional spiral, he will go get them. So, get yourself up and get your shit together."

Rhysand stared at the letter. At the gently practiced scroll of his son's handwriting. He took the envelope immediately, standing to walk to Aelia's desk, and taking out her letter opener. He read the letter once, then a second time to be sure, and third just in case before handing it to Cassian. 

The general read it slowly, processing each delicate curve of his nephew's lettering. "So, they're in Winter?" Rhysand nodded, his jaw tight. "Doesn't Kal believe you-"

"Yes." Cassian paused, knowing why she would have picked there, and knowing Aelia had longed to go home for a while now. "I'm banned from his court as of yesterday morning."

Cassian whispered softly in response. "Nyx is asking you not to come anyways, Rhys. He's asking you to give him and Lia space and time."

Rhysand nodded. "I can read, Cassian. Thank you." 

"Then let her go." The high lord shot him a look of shock. Of betrayal. "Let her go and let her come back on her own terms, Rhys. Show her you love her by respecting her wishes. We both know she is going to come back. Remind me of how deeply she told you she loved you?"

"Deeper than the ocean of Summer, stronger than the vines of Spring, with more passion than an Autumn fire."

"And with the purity of a fresh Winter snow." Cassian finished softly. "She'll come home, Rhys." 

Rhysand broke down again, and Cassian rushed to him, pulling his brother into a tight hug.  "That's so much easier said than done."

"I know."

"I love her." Rhysand sobbed heavily. "Cassian, I love her. I never once thought  about leaving her when the bond snapped. She carried my son. She risked her life to give me a baby. She risked her life so I could live my dream of being a father and now its all falling to shit, Cassian."

"I know."

Rhysand openly cried now. Hand forming fists in the back of Cassian's shirt. "I just want them. I love him. I love her." He repeated again.

"I know, Rhys. I know."

[back2bluesidex]

Dear Darling - JHS [Chapter 1]

Pairing: Serpent king (imoogi)!Hoseok X Human!Reader

Theme: Angst, dark romance, smut, fantasy au.

Wordcount: 3.1k+

Summary: After his bride flees from his clutches and reaches the realm of mortals to reunite with her lover - Hoseok has no choice but to chase her. Upon his arrival to the land of obnoxious humans, he crosses paths with you. You are a small, driven mortal who walks with a load of despair on her back. You are nothing but a delicious meal to him and he wants nothing more than to suck your life out of you, find his runaway wife and return to his kingdom. But much to his dismay, you ruin his plans, make him do what he never imagined doing in 600 years of his life - like making him fall in love and keeping him bound to you.

Warnings: Toxic family dynamics, reader is depressed, mentions of self-harming and su*cide. NSFW!!

Accepting Taglist Requests.

A/N: Let me know what you think of it.

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Epilogue

Masterlist | Patreon (Early access to the chapters)

People say snakes are the most poisonous creatures in the world. 

They actually haven’t seen or met your family. For that, your own family members, your own blood, are the most poisonous creatures you have ever come across. 

Your sister taps the butt of her fork on the glass table making an awful sound. Why is she doing so? Of course because she knows you have misophonia and these kinds of sounds trigger you badly. 

“I should get going now” you announce, taking a last sip of your orange juice. 

“Why so early, Y/N? It’s only ten in the morning!” your sister says in a whiney voice. 

“I have work, unnie.” you reply calmly but don’t forget to emphasize ‘work’ because that’s something your sister lacks in life. 

“Only if you listened to me and got married like your sister, you would be living a much more comfortable life.” your mother objects from the other side of the table. 

“Mother, I am more comfortable in my lifestyle than I ever had the privilege of being. Yes maybe, I don’t have a hefty paycheck, or shiny cars like you all. But I earn, all by myself, and don’t have to beg my father or husband for parking fees.” The last part of your statement was directed to your sister.  

She is way too proud of her beauty, her popular state among the wealthy-family-community. She often bragged about how she had thirty-two suitors at one time who were ready to bring her the moon if she had asked for it. 

And she chose the most humble man among them (aka the wealthiest one). 

Your sister scoffs at your accusations, “admit that you are jealous, Y/N. I at least have a husband who is ready to worship the ground I walk in. What about you? You are 28 and still alone? No one even approaches you since you decided to become independent. If I am not wrong, you had to buy yourself a cake this year on your birthday. Have you forgotten that already?” 

Your grip on the glass goes tight at that. She is not completely wrong. You lost most of your friends one-by-one since you moved out of the house and denied inheritance over your father’s business. All of the guys who approach you knowing your family’s status are either unaware of your situation or just want to use your name as a pawn. 

As a result - you are left alone. 

Completely alone. 

There are days when you think you should just end it all. Jump off a bridge and no one would actually care. 

There are also days when you feel hopeful, when you like to believe that you, too, will find someone to love you, to call you their home. 

There are days when you accept your fate of being alone. An unsupportive family, mean friends, unfaithful partners have already taught you enough lessons about how cruel life can be, so it’s better for you to just accept it all and move on - even though you hardly know where to move on, where to go, if there is anything to look forward or not. 

“Move back to the house, Y/N. Listen to us and I promise I will revise my will.” Your father chimes in with his suggestion. His voice is so soft that anyone would think he is actually concerned about you. 

But that’s a facade. 

He only wants you back so that he can sell you off to a wealthy guy just like your sister. His business, which is a few steps away from being a conglomerate, will grow much faster. And that will be his key to more power, more money. 

“If I had wanted your money from the start - I wouldn't have moved out in the first place.” you offer your final statement as you take your bag and storm out of the dining place, and then the house. 

One more moment in this house with these people and you might kill yourself. 

As if your family wasn’t enough to annoy you, now everywhere you look, all you see is: Couples. 

Couples of various ages, various stages, but all lovey-dovey and cringey. 

Reminding you how you are 28 and still so partner-less. 

You usually love this little walk from the bus-stop to your workplace. You get to enjoy the fresh air, get to witness the changing colors of seasons, the setting-sun while coming back home and the stars if you end up over-working. 

This is one of the few luxuries, feel-good materials that you allow yourself. 

Other than these small things - there is hardly anything that excites you, makes you happy. 

You shove your hands inside the pocket of your jacket and focus very little on your surroundings. Just when you are a couple of feet away from the building, you see a tall figure standing in front of the entrance, very probably, checking himself out in the glass exterior. 

He is unfamiliar. So you initially decide to ignore him and walk past him to enter the building. But as you take a few more steps towards the man, you notice his side profile, his tall, lithe body, fitted dress suit and heeled boots. 

Your breath gets stuck in your throat as you drink him in little by little. 

He is immensely beautiful. 

His chiseled jaw, perfectly mounted nose, sharp eyes, immaculately styled dark hair and full lips - everything makes him the most handsome man you have ever seen. 

He is glistening in the sun.. as if there is an invisible outer layer added to his skin. 

It’s not that you have never seen handsome guys - Kim Seokjin from the finance department and your uni friend Kim Taehyung are the epitome of beauty but you have never seen anyone as beautiful, majestic as this man. 

You feel an instant, unexplainable pull towards him. 

It’s something that drains all of your feminism out of your body. You want to walk up to him and sacrifice yourself on his feet even though you don’t know who he is. 

Probably upon feeling your burning stare on his face, he turns his head to look at you. And he looks dead into your eyes. His stare is so intense that it feels he is reading you out like an open but untouched book. 

You stand there dumbly, holding a boiling eye-contact with him, not knowing how to walk forward or how to even use your legs anymore. 

The pretty heart-shaped lips of the man soon turn upwards, bending into a smile. A smile so beautiful, so addictive, so hypnotic that you find yourself gulping a lump that you never knew formed in your throat.

That’s when you realize that you are ogling at an unknown man like a creep. When men stare at you like you are their next meal in public places - you hate it. But the undeniable beauty of this has turned you into one of those people you hate. 

So you gather your wits, look away from him and try to walk away from the man, only for him to stop you with his smooth voice, “Miss, are you an employee here?” 

Your steps halt as soon as his words enter inside your ear. “Are you talking to me?” you ask dumbly. Of course he is talking to you, there is no one else close enough for him to direct his questions at. 

But he seems to be kind. The man nods and murmurs a little, “yes” 

“Yeah. I work here. Are you looking for someone?” you offer, trying not to choke on your own spit.

He steps closer to you, sun rays playing on his dark orbs.

Fuck! He’s even more beautiful up close!   

“Not particularly. Can you, kindly, tell me where the executive office is?” He answers your query. 

“Executive office?” you frown, “there is no such office but there is an entire floor for executives. Do you want me to take you there?” 

“Yes. I’d be grateful if you would lead the way.” he replies softly. 

Your heart leaps a little at his gentle voice. You can hardly remember when for the last time anyone has been this gentle to you. 

Giving him a small smile you start walking towards the building. 

During the small walk from the entrance to the elevator, the mysterious stranger gets all the attention of the spectators. You find some of the front desk employees squealing like high school girls. 

Even though you cringe at such reactions usually, this one time you know it’s justified. You were very much spellbound a few minutes ago. 

Thankfully the elevator is empty when you get inside it with the man following you closely behind. But all of your thankfulness vanishes as you stand there alone with the enigmatic man inside the metal confinement. 

His fragrance envelops you. 

Fuck. he smells so nice. You think. But it’s not the kind of smell that you usually get a whip of. Neither he smells earthy, nor like aftershave, nor he emits the strong manly fragrance. 

He smells kinda sweet - no, not floral or fruity. It’s something you can’t quite explain. It’s hypnotic - dizzying. 

“Are you here to see anyone?” You break the silence. Because you might faint from the overwhelming attraction that has started clouding your judgements. 

“I am here to report to work, Miss.” he replies simply without even looking at you, while you are staring at his side profile as if he is one of those modern abstract arts pieces in art galleries that you find a hard time understanding. 

“Report? W-who are you reporting under?” Is he reporting to someone from the executive floor? Then is he an executive himself? That makes sense because he is wrapped up in wealth from top to bottom - his suit dress, his shoes must cost six months worth of your paycheck. 

“Min Yoongi himself.” he whips his head towards you and gives you one lopsided smile. All of a sudden your knees feel weak to withstand your own body weight. 

You only nod, reluctant to say anything when he clearly isn’t much interested in conversing with you. 

The fifth floor approaches, the elevator door opens with a ding. 

“This is my floor, I must get to work now. You need to get out on the seventh floor. I have already pressed the button so you don’t have to.” you bow a little. When you stand straight you find him regarding you with those dark eyes. His irises are shining like black pearls.

“It was a pleasure to meet such a kind soul. Thank you for the help, Miss….” his sentence doesn’t end completely. 

You take the hint and say while stepping out of the elevator door all while facing him, “Y/N. My name is Y/N.”   

“Y/N” he says with a breathy voice. The fine hairs at the back of your neck stand in protest, “I am Hoseok… Jung Hoseok.” 

“Hoseok…” You murmur under your breath, your heart rises inside your ribcage. Your chest feels tight, stomach feels light as you keep looking into his eyes until the elevator door shuts, parting you from the mysterious man who has very clearly encaptured you unlike anything you have ever experienced before. 

Hoseok’s heeled boots clink against the expensive marbles of the executive floor. For a moment he dares to compare the interior decoration with his own palace. But the Mins would surely go penniless if they start decorating their office with the priceless stones and gold that serpent king Jung Hoseok’s palace boasts. 

The receptionist at floor entry has shown him the way to Yoongi’s room and his super powers easily help him glide around the corridors without having to make him look like an unearthly creature. 

So he finds the room rather easily. 

He knocks before pushing the door to enter like the human he is pretending to be. 

When Yoongi sees him, he stands up abruptly and bends half in a deep bow, “My king, you have arrived.” 

“I have.” he replies, “so healthy, full of life and above all so pure, would make a perfect meal for me.” he speaks with a smile tugging at his lips as he recalls your face - a beauty indeed. 

“May I have the pleasure of knowing what you are referring to, my king?” Min Yoongi gestures to Hoseok to sit down on the luxurious sofa before he takes a seat himself. 

“I had the opportunity of coming across one of your employees. She lent one kind hand to show me the way.” Hoseok pauses and recalls your face, your eyes, the purity that spills through them, “I must admit, she is the purest creature I have ever found. You know Min, my lifespan can get longer with such purity. I need to feed on her, suck her sweet soul out of her body. Will you allow me to do so?” 

A smug smile tugs at the corner of Hoseok’s lips. He knows there is no way his obedient servant will not allow him, he is just enjoying the flustered state of Min Yoongi’s pale face that his proposition created. 

“Th-that goes without saying, My lord. You may do anything you please. This lowly creature is no one to object. However..” Yoongi bows his head a little more and continues, “May I ask who the employee is?” 

“Her name is Y/N. Such a kind human she is. She lent me her lead and showed me the way around this building. But I could see her true self. How unhappy she is with the way this world works. So I have come to this decision of setting her free by feeding on her.” 

The smile that now envelops Hoseok’s entire face is nothing but evil. Just the thought of having your soul and being able to live more, rule more already excites him. 

He hasn’t felt this excited, enticed in a long time - not even when he found his perfect mate, Soojin. It was probably when he defeated the king of Gumiho and conquered his kingdom, that was the last time he vibrated with this much excitement. 

Serpent king Jung Hoseok’s visit to the mortal world is going quite well so far. 

“What do you think it is?” Segyeong asks from the seat beside you. You only shrug as a reply as you focus on the stage.

Every team lead and managers have received an email this noon informing that Min Yoongi has an important announcement to make. Hence, everyone who receives the email has to be present in the auditorium before 3 pm.

Since you are leading the strategic planning team of Min corporation - you were automatically invited. 

You wait patiently as your colleague goes on and on about her boyfriend, his annoying habits and how much she loathes her life right now. 

You are a good listener - you know. But there are occasions when you wish you could stop listening to everyone. You are their outlet, but who is yours? Who listens to you? Whose arms do you fall back on? To whom you go seeking warmth, some comfort? No one. 

When will you have someone to love you? When will you fall in love? 

Suddenly the question paints a very vague picture of someone in your eyes. It remotely looks like the man you met this morning. It remotely looks like Jung Hoseok. 

You shake your head to get rid of the desire that has started bubbling inside your chest since the moment you have seen him. 

All the chatters of the auditorium come to a stop when Min Yoongi walks inside the room and stands on the podium. 

He clears his throat before starting with the announcement, “Good afternoon everyone. I hope your work has been going well. Today is a special occasion and even though I know it’s sudden, I couldn’t help sharing a very good news with you all.” he pauses for a brief second, as if scanning the room for once then he finally continues, “As you know, the position of Vice President is vacant for a couple of months now after Mr. Choi’s sudden demise. While the board of directors have tried to choose an eligible candidate to grace the position, there have always been one fall out or another. But finally we have come to a conclusion and chosen the next vice president of Min Corporation.” The room grows kind of loud with noises of surprise and whispers. You, too, can’t help but wonder who is going to be the next president. Segyeong is the office-gossip-queen. So, if there was an election going on, she would have known and naturally you would have known as well. 

“However, the thing is that… he is not anyone from the company itself. He has been requested to take up the position because the Min Corporation you know would have been nowhere without his help. He is a close friend of mine, a mentor, a genius. Please raise your hand in applause and welcome your new Vice President Mr. Jung Hoseok.” 

Your mouth opens on its own accord, your eyebrows shoot up to reach your hairline. Why hadn’t it clicked before? Hoseok said he is reporting directly under Min Yoongi! That definitely was enough of a clue. 

Your brooding session comes to an abrupt halt when you feel Segyeong holding your arm in a vice grip threatening to cut blood circulation at any given moment. 

“Fuck fuck fuck, Y/N! Who is this Greek god???” she squeals without averting her eyes from the stage. 

A loud thunder of claps ring as you look at the man, now standing on the podium. 

There he is, Jung Hoseok, standing as if he owns the world. His sharp features, expensive dress suit and million dollar shoes gleaming under the blaring lights. 

“Good afternoon everyone. I am Jung Hoseok, and I am honored to be taking up the position of Vice President of Min Corporation. First of all thanks to Min Yoongi for thinking of me to be capable enough. Secondly, thanks to you all for joining me and accepting me. I am grateful to you all.” Hoseok dips his head in a small bow. 

When he strengthens his posture, you find him looking directly at you, despite you sitting on the fourth row, despite the dim lighting of the seating area. 

“Let’s get to know each other so that we get close.” he concludes his speech with a blinding smile. Something floods in your chest as you feel those to be oddly dedicated to you.   

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[specialagentlokitty]

Buck x reader - fix what’s been broken

TW: mentions of abusive parent

You stared at the rubble of the burning building that you had just put out, and you followed the trail of burning oil.

“Hey cap?” You called.

“Yeah?”

Bobby walked over and you gestured to where it stopped.

“Arson?” He asked.

“Think so yeah. I assume they lit it here, knew the building was empty, abandoned.”

“Then why burn it?” Bobby asked.

You looked up at your captain.

“Teenagers maybe? Someone real angry? Old owner? There’s loads of reasons.”

Bobby nodded his head and placed a hand on your shoulder and you recoiled a little bit, and he took his hand off.

“Sorry, I forget sometimes. Good job.” He smiled.

You gave a small smile back and you looked around, and that’s where you found him standing there.

The face you hadn’t seen for a long time.

“Come quietly, or they all go up…” he whispered.

He held a lighter in the air and gestured to the oil on the ground, surrounding you all.

“Don’t hurt them.” You said lowly.

“Then come quietly. You and I have unfinished business.”

You clenched you jaw and began to walk forward, glancing behind you to make sure no one was watching you.

The man gestured for you to get in the car and you did, and he drove you across the city.

You had muted your radio, so you didn’t know that they were calling your name, trying to find you.

You didn’t know that they knew you were gone.

“(Y/N) answer your radio now!” Bobby yelled.

“Cap! We got oil!”

Chim showed Bobby the oil around them, and Bobby looked around while everyone was running to find you.

That’s when he saw the camera.

“Everyone in the truck!”

“We need to find them!” Buck yelled.

“And we will! There’s a camera we will find them but get in the truck!”

Buck protested for a few more minutes before he was finally pulled in and they all went back to the station.

Athena met them with the footage from the storage lockers.

You on the other hand pulled up across the city in another abandoned building, and again you saw it surrounded by oil.

“Try anything and we’ll all go up.”

You looked at him idly, and he shoved you inside, into the large empty swimming pool area and you took a few steps back.

“I’m going to get you back for what you did to me.”

He turned around, running a hand over his head as he began to pace, and you took that as your chance.

Pressing the button on your radio, you leant your head down.

“Dispatch.. this is firefighter (L/N) from the 118, be advised I am with the arsonist from our last call out, and I have muted my radio… I’ll tell you my position..”

Bucks head shot up at the sound of your voice coming through the radio.

“Everyone be quiet!” He yelled.

You rattled out your location and Buck snapped his head to Bobby.

“Truck now!”

“I’ll lead the way!” Athena yelled.

You lowered your hand from your radio, unaware you left it clicked on, they could heard everything.

“You ruined my life.”

“You did that to yourself.”

“You’re that ungrateful to me?! Your father?!”

You scoffed, shaking your head at him.

Everyone looked to Buck at the back of the truck, and he furrowed his brows a little bit.

“Did you know about their dad?” Hen asked.

“They said he was dead…”

They all carried on listening.

“You were never my father, you were a drunk can abusive bastard who beat his wife and children every night!”

“You wouldn’t listen!”

“We were kids! What did we know about listening?!” You yelled back.

He walked over and grabbed you by your jacket, pinning you to the wall and you stared at him.

“I was trying to raise you to be strong!”

“By beating us?! We were kids! Deacon was 5! I was 13!”

“You were a brat! Ungrateful and selfish! You attacked me!”

You shoved him back.

“I was protecting my brother!”

He smirked a little.

“Too bad you stopped protecting him, he begged for you to save him.”

You stared at him in horror, hands falling limp by your sides.

“What did you do to my brother?”

“I finished what I started, and now there’s just you…”

He lunged forward and punched you in the face, knocking you against the wall, and you stood there, spitting some blood on to the floor.

You stared at him.

“Fight back!”

“No.”

He growled, punching you in the face once again.

“Fight back!”

“No.”

He hit you a few more times and you dropped against the wall, breathing heavily, and you looked up at him with an emotionless face.

“You’re a coward.”

“Then fight back. Just like you did when you were younger, when you took that knife and slashed it down my face!” He roared.

“Did it hurt?” You smirked, “did it make you scream? Cry? Beg for death? Beg for forgiveness?” You whispered.

Buck stared at his radio in pure shock.

“There’s no way that’s (Y/N)…” Eddie whispered.

“It can’t be. That’s… they’ve spoken like that…” hen whispered.

They all stared at Buck who was still staring at his radio trying to process everything he was hearing.

It wasn’t you. Not the sweet you that held him when he was hurt, who laughed and smiled so brightly.

This was twisted, dark.

You slowly pushed yourself up.

“Did it scare you like you scared us?”

“I’m going to make you pay for what you did, I’ll give you the exact same scar, so every time you look in the mirror you see me.”

He pulled a knife out of his pocket and he grinned at you.

“I’ll light this place on fire before they can stop me.”

He pulled out a lighter and tossed it behind him, and you watched as the flames spread.

“How dark is it in your mind (Y/N)? Did I turn you into a monster?” He asked.

“No…”

You slowly dropped your jacket on the floor, rolling up your sleeves.

“I turned myself into a monster, thinking about what I would do to you every single day when I next saw you.”

You lunged forward and attacked him, punching him in the face, and you both fought.

It felt like a fight that went on for years, none stop, and in a way it was. You had been fighting this part of yourself for years, ever since he was arrested.

How he’d gotten out was beyond you, but you knew you’d have to face him again one day.

After what felt like forever you knocked him to the ground, and kicked the knife into the empty pool.

You looked down at him, your blood dripping on the floor from your face, your arms.

“Going to leave me to die?” He asked.

You walked over to your jacket and tied it around your shoulders as you walked back over to him.

“No. I’m not like you. I want to watch you rot in a cell.”

Kicking his head, you grabbed his arms and dragged him through the other exit of the building, coughing and wheezing as you tried to fight the smoke in your lungs.

Dragging him away from the fire, you dropped him there, and you dropped your jacket, staring at the police cars and fire engines turning up.

You watched your team jump out and they all ran over to you.

“(Y/N)!”

Buck ran over to hug you, but when you held your hand out to him, he immediately stopped, teary eyes gazing into your blank ones.

“We need to check you out.” Hen said.

“I’m fine.”

“Get checked out, you’re not fine, you’ve got a lot of injuries.” Bobby said.

“I’m fine.”

“Well, if you mean alive that counts but we still need to check you over and get you to the hospital.” Chim said.

You looked at him, then turned to Buck.

“You’re alive, and that’s what counts. Just go get help, please? I’ll come with you.”

“I’m not alive…”

“What?” He asked confused.

You looked down at the man other paramedics were checking over and turned back to Buck, looking over your team.

“I’m not alive. I died years ago, this? This is just an empty shell of me.”

“No, no that’s not true okay? I’ve seen you, I’ve heard you laugh and seen your smile.” Buck said.

Tears were running down his face and you clenched your jaw.

“We heard everything, and he can’t hurt you again.” Athena said.

You looked at her.

“He stopped hurting me years ago. These wounds? Cuts? They don’t hurt. I can’t feel them.”

Everyone shared a look.

You weren’t crying, upset.

And they wanted to put it down to shock, but hearing you talk over the radio, they knew it wasn’t shock.

“Please.” Buck whispered.

“I can’t feel anything inside of me… believe me I’ve tried… but I lost all sense of emotions, all sense of fear, pain… love… I lost it all years ago.”

You looked at your bloodied arms.

“I’m going home.”

You began to walk away, and they tried to stop you, police officers tried to stop you but no one could, even Athena was scared to get near to you when she saw the look on your face.

You went home, standing in the shower you watched the blood mix with the water and you dressed again, and went to the hospital.

They stitched up and sorted all your wounds for you, and you discharged yourself against their advice.

You spent a few days in your apartment until the door was open and you looked over from your spot at the table to the front door.

Buck walked in with everyone.

“You went to the hospital, good.” Bobby smiled slightly.

They all walked over.

“How’re you feeling?” Eddie asked.

You set the file down that you were reading, and closed it.

Gazing at them all, you stayed quiet.

“He’ll get out again.”

“He won’t, he’s being moved to a max security prison across the country.” Athena said.

“He won’t stop.”

“Why?” She asked.

You took a small breath.

“The falling is easy when you’re alone. You don’t have to worry about others or how they’ll feel about this. I can’t sleep, i close my eyes and I feel the weight of it all on my chest. It won’t leave.”

They looked at you.

“There’s no telling what I might do… there’s something in my head and it won’t go.. I’m afraid of the shadows, my own reflection because I see him in the mirror.”

“You went through a lot.” Maddie whispered.

Buck walked over, and he stood in front of you, holding out his hands.

“You’re alive, and we can help you through all of this. You just need to let us, let me help you…”

You looked at him.

“I’m broken.”

“So am I.” He smiled.

You looked at his hands and placed yours in his, letting him pull you up and he wrapped his arms around you, and you stood there for a moment.

Slowly reaching out, you hugged him back, and something inside of you clicked.

You were safe.

You had your family around you, the people who kept you safe, and tears slowly fell from your eyes as you took a shaky breath, holding Buck even tighter.

“I’ve got you now…” he whispered

[bullet-prooflove]

Stranglehold: Terry Silver x Reader

Tagging: @volumesofforgottenlore @kmc1989 @somethingdarkside17 @noonee333

References to the travel journal in All The Places That You’ve Been

Terry will do anything for you. He lives for you, he would certainly die for you and now he’s standing in the dojo of the two men he’s wronged begging them to train you because he simply doesn’t have the capacity to do it. The idea of hurting you sickens him, even if it is for your own good.

“No fucking way.” Johnny Lawrence snarls at him, jabbing his finger into Terry’s chest. “This is just some fucked up mind game.”

“I understand why you would think that.” Terry says quietly, his hands clasped in front of him. “But I can promise you it’s not.”

“You beat the living shit out of me.” Johnny snaps, shoving him at his chest. “I was pissing blood for a week.”

Terry falters a step, drawing himself out of Johnny’s reach as Daniel steps between them. He’s always been the pacifier, the one that negates the conflict. It’s a strength Terry realises these days, not a weakness like he once thought.

“Yes I did and I am tremendously sorry. If I could go back and undo all of it I would.” Terry acknowledges before he places his palms together. “Look, I am begging you…”

“No.” Johnny spits at him, the fury blazing in his eyes. “I know what begging looks like and that is not what you’re doing.”

“Do you want me to get on my knees? Beg for my wife’s life?” Terry says forcefully,  gesturing the decking below his feet. “Because if that’s what it takes I will do it.”

There’s a resoluteness to his words, a conviction. He starts to bend, to clamber down in the dirt and Daniel cannot believe that this is the same man that almost killed Johnny six months ago. His silver hair falls loose across his features giving him a softer impression, he’s wearing designer slacks and a blue buttoned up shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. There’s a desperation in him that Daniel recognises, it comes from a place of fear, a place of love. An emotion that until now Daniel had thought he was incapable of.

“You don’t need to do that.” Daniel tells him, holding out his hand to stop him. “Please just don’t do that.”

“If her safety is so important to you why don’t you train her?” Johnny asserts, crossing his arms over his chest and shrugging his shoulders. “Why is it on us to keep your wife safe?”

Because I can’t…

Terry looks away, swallowing hard against the well of emotion that swells within his ribcage. The words lodge in his throat because all he can think about is Kreese’s hands wrapping around your neck, that ring imprinting on your skin as he strangles the life right out of you.

“I’ll make you watch.” He had promised Terry, the night he hung up his gi. “If you betray me like this, I will murder the only thing you’ve ever loved.”

Terry hadn’t bothered to respond. It was a threat he’d thought at the time, the bitter ramblings a man who was used to getting his own way. That was before he realised someone had been in his home, moving his things, touching yours.

He knows it’s Kreese, the two of them were Special Forces, they knew how to get in and out of a place unseen.

He hears the message loud and clear.

I’m coming for you, I’m coming for her.

“Cobra Kai is taught through pain.” Daniel says with understanding and Terry tilts his head to look at him, the anguish burning in his eyes. “He can’t teach her like that, he can’t hurt her.”

“No.” He admits, his voice barely more than a rasp. “I can’t.”

Johnny sighs as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Is Kreese really a threat to her?” He asks Terry.

Terry raises his eyes to the sky, pursing his lips together grimly.

“The night I hurt you was the night she left me.” He finds himself telling the other two men. “It was like all the colour had been sucked out of my world. It was the wake up call I needed to get myself straight, to take a hard look at what I was becoming. I left Cobra Kai the next day.”

He tips his head towards Johnny, their gazes meeting over the no man’s land between them.

“That woman is my heart, my soul, I live for her, I breath for her. She’s my strength, my passion and she is my weakness.” Terry tells them as he puts his fist to his chest. “Kreese told me if I walked out that door, if I betrayed him then he would choke her to death right in front of me.”

“Shit.” Johnny mutters, rubbing his palm across his mouth because he more than anyone knows that John Kreese has never made a promise he didn’t intend to keep.

“He’s been in our home, he moved things, took things…”

There’s a waver to his voice, a slight tremble and Johnny wants to ask what did he take? What did he take that was so important to you that you’ve forced yourself to come here, to beg for help?

“When we were first together my wife, she didn’t have much money. She bought me a journal to record our travels in, our adventures she calls them. It was expensive, something I knew that she couldn’t afford but in that moment I knew exactly how she felt about me, that she was making an investment in our future.”

Johnny feels the trepidation in his chest, he knows what’s coming, the cruelty of it.

“He tore it to pieces and left the scraps of it on our bed. He obliterated our memories…” He trails off then, his eyes stinging because he remembers coming home to find you sitting at the kitchen table trying to piece all the pages back together with tape. The destruction had devastated you, it had devastated him too. “He hates her, he thinks she made me weak, that she’s the reason I didn’t fall into line but the truth is, I hated myself after what I did to you, I saw what I was becoming and I couldn’t go back to that again, I’m not that person, I do not want to be that person.”

It comes out like a choke, the air rushing out of his chest and Terry, he just can’t seem to stop it.

“Hate me if you want to, beat me if that’s what you need to do but please I am begging you, help me save my wife.” He pleads pressing his palms together in prayer. “She is the one thing in this world I can not live without.”

“I’ll train her.” Daniel reassures him, running his hand through his dark hair. “But there has to be ground rules, I can’t have you around here. It has to be just her.”

“Whatever you say.” Terry says, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “I’ll abide by whatever you put in place.”

“I’ll take her too.” Johnny says with a sigh, his hand rubbing over the back of his neck. “She’s tough right you’re wife? I’m not training some pampered princess?”

“No.” Terry smiles as he feels hope for the first time that night. “Trust me you’ll have a fighter on your hands.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[afictionalwhor3]

I'd Choose You Everytime

A/N: Back at it again. Once again hoping to be consistent again. I'm in the process of changing up my theme and my blog. I am not someone that typically writes angst but this came to me randomly and thought it was too good not to write. Also sorry if the valryian is bad I used a translator :/. Divider by @saradika-graphics

Summary: You will die on your own terms and in the flames as any dragon rider should.

Word Count: 1.4k

"Jacerys, please! I can't go like this! Please Jacerys!" You sobbed beging your lord husband to honor your wishes. Your face was wet with a combination of sweat and tears. This was your first childbirth, but you knew it was not going well. From the time you felt the babe coming, you knew something was wrong. The maesters told Jacerys there was a chance to save your babe, but you would die in the process which Jacerys immediately rejected. You attempted to sit up but you had little strength left in your body as you fell back onto your back. You gripped tirelessly at your bloody undergarment wanting the material away from your body as you tremored in pain.

"No my love I cannot. You musn't make me do this," He says gripping your hand tightly and kissing your knuckles repeatedly. "You will be okay, there must be another option," He says quickly looking over his shoulder at the group of maesters and handmaidens, "You lot dare stand there while my wife is in pain?! Help her now!" He yells and you shake your head squeezing his hand and forcing him to look at you. You weakly wave off the people who attempt to approach your bedside.

"Jacerys, the babe and I will not make it. I am sorry I have failed my duty to you and our kingdom, but you must honor me. You must allow me to die a dragon's death. I am of Targaryen blood, I cannot die in this birthing bed" You plead your voice cracking along the way. As you look at Jacerys you catch the moment he realizes what has to be done. It is as if you have unlocked a floodgate as you quickly notice the glassy feature his big brown eyes take on. You understood the gravity of what you were asking him to do, but you refused to die in this bed. You would leave this world on your own terms, in the way of a dragon rider.

"Leave us... NOW ALL OF YOU!" Jacerys yells as the maesters and handmaidens quickly exit the room. He cups your face, the blood of the dragon made it so you typically ran warm, but when Jacerys touched your face he could feel the heat leaving your skin. He presses a soft kiss to your lips and whispers, "Let us go, my love," and he proceeds to help you out of bed. You groan in pain despite Jacerys shouldering most of your weight as the two of you made your way to the Dragonmont.

"Jacerys my love you must move on from me" You say. You can feel your head begin to spin while Jacerys squeezes your side.

"Please love not now" Jacerys begs you but you once again shake your head,

"No, you listen to me Jacerys," You say before yelling in anguish as a sharp pain overtakes your body. Your knees buckle Jace stops, saving you from falling to the floor and you will yourself to take deep breaths and stand again to continue your journey. You thanked the Gods for the natural warmness of Dragonstone because the warmth that started in your feet helped a small amount to fight the cold that was beginning to over take your frame. "I can feel my strength leaving me Jacerys, but you must stay strong. You will move on and help your mother defeat the greens. You will move on and help your mother take her seat on the Iron Throne. You will fall in love with another and you two will have beautiful babes together. I believe had the gods blessed us with babe, she would have been a girl. She would have had beautiful brown hair and eyes in the same manner as her father," You said willing a weak smile as you looked at Jace. So close in this moment you take the time to appreciate the hints of gold that were sprinkled in his eyes. The weight of the moment began to hit you as you entered the Dragonmont and you began to grasp the fact this would be your last moments with your beloveded. You noticed the way his curls framed his face, the tears that made his eyes shine, the perfect bridge of his nose that led to his beautiful lips. Jacerys forces a smile to his face and swallows the lump in throat so he could speak,

"If the Gods blessed her she would have been the reflection of you. As beautiful as she is fierce in all things" He says and a shiver runs up your spine quickly followed by another unbearable pain that made you yell out. You knew you did not have long as Jace led you towards the dark edge of the Dragonmont. From here you could hear the cries of Silverwing as she felt all the grief and anguish that currently consumed you. Your knees buckled again and this time Jacerys led you softly down to the ground. He did not remove your arm that was wrapped around his shoulder or the one that was placed on your hip.

"Naejot māzigon Gēliotīkun" (Come Forward, Silverwing). You heard Jace's command and following that you heard her fast-approaching footsteps as she raced to see you, hopeful she could fix whatever was wrong. You watched as she quickly climbed the mount and despite the mounting pressure of your pain, you forced another smile onto your face,

"Gēliotīkun," You said as she curiously tilted her head. "Issa gevie hāedar" (My Beautiful Girl) you whispered softly. She knew you were in pain but could not understand the smile on your face as she, in a manner you could only describe as confusion, tilted her head. You looked up at Jacerys for what you knew would be the last time, "My Prince, my love, my Jace" Your voice was just a whisper now as it was clear the clock was running out for the two of you. The longer Jace looked at you the faster the tears ran down his face. You moved your hand from around his shoulder to cup his cheek, "I have made peace with my fate. Now I can only hope the Gods will be kind to me and our babe wherever we go. Know that I would choose this life, with this ending, over and over again. Because in this life I got to know, and love you Jacerys," You speak using the last of your strength to pull Jacerys in for one final searing kiss. You relish the feeling of his slightly chapped lips and the vice-like grip he had on you, because he understood when he let go it would be for the last time. You pull away and swallow the painful cry that tries to force its way up your throat. "Do not forget me Jacerys. I know the Gods have not been kind to us, but if they have mercy it will be a long while before I see you again" You say as Jacerys presses his forehead against yours,

"Nyke could dōrī forget ao y/n. Ao issi se jorrāelagon hen issa glaeson," (I could never forget you y/n. You are the love of my life) He whispers his voice breaking and your tears mixing. There is more he wants to say, so much more but he knows your strength is waning and he must leave you. You weakly push him away from you,

"Go," You voice weakly and he presses one final shaky kiss against your forehead. He stands slowly, and begins to back up out of the way of any potential dragon fire. You could feel the life draining from your body as you mustered up everything you had to look at Silverwing. You looked your mighty girl in the eye before finally saying, "Dracarys". Jace watched from a distance clawing at his chest his clothing feeling suddenly suffocating as he did nothing to stop the tears that have flowed since you made your final decision. You doubled over in pain once again crying out. Once again you found the strength to sit up and ask for the final time, "Dracarys Gēliotīkun, Dracarys". You close your eyes as Silverwing lowers her head, gives you one final sad look, and opens her mouth. Queen Rhaenyra and King Consort Daemon run into the Dragonmont hearing the news of what has happened but it is too late. Jacerys falls to his knees as he watches the love of his life be engulfed in flames.

[angelitadiaz]

Part 1

"How could this not concern me, Princess Y/N? You are engaged to Duke Hastings unless you're committing adultery. In that case, Mr Bridgerton, please tell me now if she is unpure." Your mouth was left agape at the accusation.

"Lord Berbrooke, how dare you even think of the idea! I should have you taken to the dungeon for your bad conduct." The Featheringtons and Bridgertons had their mouth agape at your response.

"Princess Y/N, please, I apologize. But as a man of the ton, I am concerned that my future bride is unpure before our wedding." You let out a sigh and rolled your eyes at him. "Berbrooke, my mother shall hear of this." You said as you got into the carriage.

Nigel was left there with sweat rolling down his forehead. He looked at the carriage, and then he caught the attention of Benedict. Benedict looked over at him and had his hand rolled into a tight fist. Berbrooke fleeted at the thought of a fight waiting to happen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You were once again announced in Lady Dauburys' ball. You found that Simon was waiting for you below the stairs and offered you his first dance. As you both got in position, Simon couldn't hold back his questions. "Y/N, you know you are like a sister to me, yes?"

"Of course, and you a brother to me."

"How can I know that Daphne is the one I truly want to be with the rest of my life? And you know my situation with children. I know for a fact that she wants a family of her own, and I can't risk taking her chance away." Before you could answer, you noticed his eyes were some place else. Following his stare, you found Daphne at the center of his attention. You smiled and patted his chest, signifying to come back to the conversation.

"I think that rather than talking to me, you should go over to her and ask her for a dance. Only you know how you truly feel about her, and I trust that you'll take care of her, too." Simon looked at you deep in thought before turning back to Daphne.

"Thank you, dear sister. I shall go do that now." You smiled as you watched him scurry towards Daphne. As you made your way towards the gardens, you noticed someone following you. You made your way towards the hedges before you felt someone grab your wrist harshly.

Turning around, you saw Nigel and his disgustingly twisted face. He dragged you back inside, gaining the attention of the ton and a certain Bridgerton. He didn't let go until you were in front of your mother, where he got on one knee.

"Crowned Princess Y/N, will you do me the honors of being my wife and the mother of my children?" You looked at Berbrooke, then looked at your mother, who was obviously shocked. She held one hand against her chest while the other was clutching Violet Bridgertons arm.

Forgetting about Nigel, you wondered why Ms Bridgerton was with your mother. Berbrooke grabbed your hand exceedingly harshly and pulled you close to him. Before you could answer, you heard another voice.

"I am sorry, Berbrooke, but I must object. I want Princess Y/N to be my wife and the mother of my children." Hearing Benedict say that vow with such passion made your heart skip. His tone was quiet, yet gave off a gentleness only you would ever get to experience. Looking at his features made you fall in love with him all over again.

Hearing Nigel shuffle up made you look away from Benedict, missing his stare almost immediately. Berbrooke was on his knees once again, begging your mother for your hand. She would not spare a glance at Nigel. She only looked between you and Benedict.

You looked at Benedict one more time, noticing his love stare before you went to your mother. "Queen Charlotte, mother, may we please leave? I am feeling quite tired and wish to get away from these embarrassing proposals." Queen Charlotte looked at you, only nodding and led you back to your carriage. Once again, you heard Benedict Bridgerton calling you more urgently.

Your mother turned towards you and smiled out of acknowledgment. She understood to wait for you and be of support to you.

"Y/N, I meant what I said about wanting to marry you. Why won't you accept my proposal?"

"Because Benedict, it was you who said you couldn't reciprocate my feelings knowing I had fallen in love with you. And don't think I don't know about your arrangements with Madam Delacroix. Benedict, I will be honest. I still love you, but I won't allow myself to love you. That is why I can't marry you." You turned your back against Benedict holding tears in your eyes.

"And if I promise that I won't stop asking until you are mine? Because Y/N, I will do everything in my power so I can have a life with you. Royal or not, I wish to be by your side every time you wake up and when you sleep. I will love you forever, and I shall be the man who gives you your first child. I will not allow Nigel Berbrooke to have all of that with you."

"What if I'm betrothed? Then what Bridgerton?"

"I will die trying because you are the woman that I fell in love with."

Holding back tears, you almost ran into the carriage. Once you couldn't see the ball, you grabbed onto your mother and started shedding your tears. Your mother could only hug you and gently caress your hair.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

The next day, you went over with your sisters who were reading Lady Whistledon. Too tired, you sat with them and grabbed a paper yourself. Noticing their stares, you looked at each of them when they told you that George wished to speak with you. You made your way into George's office, where you saw Anthony Bridgerton and Benedict Bridgerton.

"Good day, Bridgertons." You said as you bowed your head toward them, turning your attention back to George. "Georgie, my sisters are telling me that you called? What seems to be the problem?" Your brother flushed at his nickname being used in front of others.

"Nothing, dear sister, it's just that Benedict Bridgerton has come to ask for your hand in marriage." You looked between George and Benedict sharply before replying. "Surely you said no, there are a lot of suitors that I'm sure Mama would like." George shook his head," You are to be courted by Benedict Bridgerton. That is all you may leave." You looked shocked, " but Georgie." George showed you out the door before you could say anything.

Contemplating the situation you went to the gardens were you saw Simon. You quickly ran up to him and hugged him tightly. "What has you so clingy today?" He offered his arm to you, and once you wrapped it, he began leading you to a small walk. " I am to be courted by Benedict Bridgerton." Simon let out a little chuckle before looking forward again.

"And you don't want to marry Benedict? Is that the case?" You reached the garden of flowers where you got some flowers for your mother. "You know his situation with Madam Delacroix. I can't be wedded to a man who has no moral value." Simon shook his head at you before he looked towards the carriages, where he noticed Benedict making his way towards you.

"Well, I think dear sister that you're beloved is making his way here." You quickly turned your head to look when you caught the eyes of Benedict. He smiled gently towards you, smiling triumphantly.

"Duke Hastings, would you allow me to talk to Princess Y/N for a moment?" Simon glanced over to you before he answered, "Benedict, you see that bench over there? I will be there to make sure that my dear sister is okay. Do anything to her, and your courtship is over." Simon walked over to the bench a few feet away and sat with his arms crossed.

"What do you wish to tell me, Benedict?" He looked at you so enamored. "Would it be bad if I said you?"

"Yes, it would be."

"I wanted to ask for your hand, but your brother wanted me to court you before anything. Y/N, please understand that I truly do want to build a life together. I can not see myself with any other lady who is not you." You cut into his speech before he could answer.

"What about Madam Delacroix? Isn't she your lover?"

"Y/N, yes, she was my lover, but there was barely love in that moment. What you and I can have is a union between souls. Didn't you say you wanted a husband who has passion in his life? Who will love his wife before anyone in this world?"

You stayed quiet, looking towards the flowers before you heard your name from the other side of the garden. There stood Nigel Berbrooke with flowers and his mother. They walked over to you where the mother grabbed you and stated,"Lord Bridgerton, keep your hands from my future daughter in law. Princess Y/N, I am so happy that you accepted my Nigel's proposal."

"I accepted what?" You felt Simon grab your shoulder and put you behind him. "I think you are confused, Lady Berbrooke, but Y/N is to be courted by Benedict Bridgerton."

End of Part 2

Part 3

People of my royal court (tagged)::

@inutheangel