#WOWWWWWWW THIS IS WONDERFUL!!!

[lifeintheworldtocome]

"women are more likely to have hpd" wowwwwwww really... thats crazy...............wonder why that is

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

oooof ask for hozier recs and i shall deliver!! i've been obsessed with him i fear...

my personal rn is probably Too Sweet, but my most played song of 2023 was All Things End. beautifully moving (as in i was sobbing for the entire song the first time i heard it), i just adore the way he describes love.

more personal favorites: Through Me (this song is insane actually!! can't describe it with words.), From Eden (one of the best love songs i've ever heard), Angel of Small Death (soo insanely addictive, his voice in this one ugh) and Movement (soft and beautiful and the very first song of his that I heard). The Eat Your Young EP is a wonder in itself but tbh so is everything else,,,,

now for some specifically sugu coded songs: Through Me and All Things End, Who We Are from his last album (the lyrics... my days the lyrics are so beautiful), Blood Upon the Snow!! (written for God of War Ragnarok, it's so good ??), Almost (Sweet Music) (be still my foolish heart, don't ruin this on me ✊😔)

but like i said, every time i hear a Hozier song it's sugu coded in my head... the lyrics always make sense to me. the way they're always so poetically romantic, yet in many of them there's a lingering pain underneath, wether it's because the love is already gone or because the love is simply way too much for just one heart to handle... i'm not okay.

fun fact, i once fell asleep listening to him and dreamt that it was suguru singing... and you know what it makes so much sense, i'll take it.

this got kinda long i'm sorry :(( anyways i hope you have a great day/night

(perhaps i shall write a lil' sugu thing inspired by too sweet)

NOE !!!! finally getting to this……. thank you so much for the recs!!! 🥺🥺 i appreciate it sm…… putting some of my thoughts under the cut hehe

I LOVE TOO SWEET . SO MUCH. it was the first song of his i listened to and wowwwwwww does it go hard….. so catchy and good and just. augh. IT’S SO SUGUCODED TO ME…. esp depression era sugu….. the lyrics are just gorgeous and so him. “but while in this world // i think i’ll take my whiskey neat // my coffee black and my bed at three // you’re too sweet for me”…. :’3 my baby

FROM EDEN IS SUCH A BOP . i loveee the instrumental ……. AND THE LYRICS . ”honey you’re familiar like my mirror years ago // idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on its sword” <- BANGERRRR I CRIED . i am thinking many knight sugu thoughts ngl…. “i slithered here from eden just to sit outside your door” THINKING MORE SUGU THOUGHTS but specifically cult leader sugu …. aughhh 😔😔

angel of small death & the codeine scene……… tell me why this one made me so insane . such a tasty title and instrumental and lyrics i’m just????? i feel this way abt all of these but this one is so sugucoded too 😭 “freshly disowned in some frozen devotion”…. that’s our guy <333

EAT YOUR YOUNG IS SO CRAZY GOOD OUGHH….. i love love loveeee the “seven new ways that you can eat your young” part 😵‍💫😵‍💫 soso addicting. the lyrics are great and his voice is just soooo……. i don’t even know . i’m a little obsessed . “it’s quicker and easier to eat your young”…….. hhhhhhhhHH very sugucoded too ofc . any mention of eating is automatically a sugu reference 🙏

movement is super catchy !!!!! kinda relaxing too…… very soft. i rlly like the chorus :33 gives me waltz vibes…… kinda haunting…….

all things end + through me are soso pretty!!!! goshhhh his voice is nice……. i love the final part of all things end!!! w the synchronized clapping!!!!! so good …. and the lyrics for through me are so tasty . “with each grave, i think of loss // and i can only think of you // and i couldn’t measure it”…….. nomnom

ohhhhhh who we are is so beautiful :(((( his voice sounds so tender ….. i def get the sugu vibes here too!!!!! the feeling of something important slipping through your fingers …. “this phantom life, it sharpens like an image // but it sharpens like a knife” 😵‍💫😵‍💫 vert tasty . very sugu.

I’VE HEARD BLOOD UPON THE SNOW BEFORE BC OF RAGNAROK….. godddd it’s so. chillingly beautiful. the instrumental scratches my brain just right …… and the LYRICS . “too all things housed in her silence // nature offers a violence”….. “the parent forced to eat its young before i grows”…… it’s very . Raw . i like it a lot :3

AND FINALLY….. almost (sweet music). SO GOOD. i adore this instrumental and vibe so much + the lyrics are obv super pretty….. “i laugh like me again — she laughs like you”…… i love how light this one sounds in comparison to some of the other ones!!! a summer song for sure… a lil bittersweet….. and the chorus is literally SO addicting i can’t stand it……. BUT YES THIS ONE IS SO VERY SUGU. NOE. IM TEARING UP 😭😭 “be still my foolish heart // don’t ruin this on me”…. the idea of sugu thinking this…. maybe an au where he slowly recovers after his almost-defection….. or a childhood friends to lovers au…… i dunno. but my brain is spinning. i love him :(((((((

PHEWWW THOSE WERE GOOD . i love his voice sm….. i think my favs out of these options are too sweet, almost (sweet song), from eden and maybeeee angel of sweet death/eat your young…. but they were all super catchy :’3 thank you sm for these recs noe… sugu has invaded my brain

[nana-b0b]

Wowwwwwww Nana, your oc’s universe is so good and you are so GOOD! I hope one day you become a famous artist! 💕 Oh I wonder is Ryoma a thoughful person ? because of everything that happen about Sukuna and his mom and Suzue is a mischief one because she has her father’s personality ? and I like how they take care of each other.

Thanks thanks :D well, the truth is that Ryoma is a person who overthinks things, he has his own opinions about some situations and more than anything about his father and the kind of treatment he gave to his mother, he is aware that he could do evil but his human side doesn't let him, besides, Suzue is there, to silence those dark voices in his head. Suzue is not only playful like her father, but she has brought out her mother's natural charm, making her a person you want to be around. Plus: Suzue is the only one who knows how to calm her brother down after her mother.

[raviposting]

001 + bucktommy 😇

when I started shipping it if I did: I don't ship them lolol

my thoughts: I'm pretty neutral on it? I enjoy Tommy as a character well enough and I LOVE that we got bi Buck from this! I do kind of expect for it to be a ship that doesn't last and I'm more than fine with that lolol and would love that bc I do love when a queer character's first queer relationship isn't their endgame

What makes me happy about them: Bi Buck like wowwwwwww that is everything to me

What makes me sad about them: N/A

things done in fanfic that annoys me: N/A bc I don't read their fics lol

things I look for in fanfic: N/A asdjfkl sorry

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: Buck -- Eddie!!! I do love buddie quite a bit. Tommy I don't really have a ship for him but whoever makes him happy

My happily ever after for them: Genuinely just them being exes on great terms would be wonderful for me

who is the big spoon/little spoon: Tommy is the big spoon

what is their favorite non-sexual activity: It would be cute if they liked watching cheesy horror movies or smth together! :)

Original Ask Game | Send me an ask!

[theygotlost]

MAYBE i will draw this later but for now ill leave you with this. ahem. so like demon prudence devours oleander right. so when she reanimates them she doesnt tell them that it was her cause shes really embarrassed about it and doesnt want them to be mad at her. and oleanders guts are still spilling out of their body so while shes sewing their abdomen closed shes like soooooooooo what do you remember about dying? 🙈 and they say it was so scary and painful.... this strange wild beast attacked me....... it was unlike any other creature ive seen i wonder if i could track it down and find a specimen to dissect 🤔 and prudence is like 😅😅😅 oh wowwwwwww thats so crazyyy 😅😅😅😅😰😰😰😰

[copperdoesart]

Favorite Marvel weirdo is Longshot but also I wanna make u draw James Proudstar can you guess who this is

wowwwwwww i wonder who this could be…….. it’s a mystery forever…..

[star-girl69]

The way you put the ❤️ anon tag under the ask I forgot to sign. Got me giggling and kicking my feet and singing with the birds queen you got me enchanted fr fr.

- ❤️

(can you tell I've been clutching my phone to my heart for a while now)

(you got me talking a lot😭😭😭,my bad I was feeling active today, last one now❤️)

(what is all this height talk🤔I'm in confusion, now I'm wondering if I'm considered tall or short)

ENCHANTED?!???!!??!!?! WOWWWWWWW 🤭🤭 I LIKE THAT

(you’re so sweet ily)

(I LOVE IT YOU SHOULD BE THIS ACTIVE EVERY DAY SO DONT GO COME BACK)

(idk what happens in my asks sometimes COME BACK AND TELL ME HOW TALL YOU AREEE)

[ace-and-the-rpg-horrors]

if you're up for it (and haven't done these already), 4 and 9 for the ask game?

4- fave rarepair!!

wowwwwwww i sureeeee wonderrrrr~ hmmmm i wonder which two characters i love to bits who barely interact with each other areeeeee, can't really think of one to be h- Shizurui. it's Shizurui ofc heheeee i like them TOTALLY normal amounts. promiseeeee. don't try and work out what percent of their tag is my shitposts on them

9- character i didn't like at first who grew on me!!

basic choice, but Akito, i hated him in the main story so much he was such a bitch bhjrebseflaldjhfvgjfeka but he's growing on me now. (ngl the song Kashika made me like him more)

[svnoohe4rts]

hi, hellooooooooooooooooooooo, IT IS I, come here to give u some of my thoughts on GAMEOVER part 2, cuz holy fucking shit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

lets get it. 

“COLLEGE IS ABOUT TWO THINGS AND TWO THINGS ONLY.” - imagine my disappointment when it was not studying and dying lmaoo, anyway

the sungchan and yn friendship >>> omgggggggg AND Chenle too??? SLay

omg i relate to dead sex life BUT WHERE IS MY hee moment?? ://// THE WHOLE HEEHICKEY omg omg that was goood?????? had me giggling the “heeseung was here” oh hell yeahhhhhh

hee being kinda jealous of sungchan hoodie?? lets goo :33 so hot tbh

the making out ?? killed me from now on my ghost wrote the rest : 

ANDDDDDDDD I LIVE FOR COCKY HEE god damn the fingering in the car was everything

BUT THE ENDING?????????? hee u piece of shit but also yn u dumbass *facepalming so hard*

anyway it was so goood, im glad u got ur doc back <3333 MY SNOWY PRINCESS slayed so hard, wowwwwwww, the end just makes me so excited for next part u have no idea <333333333333333333333333333333 THANK U SM for this <33

-heetiddies anonie, ily <3

lee tiddyseung anon , this CRACKED ME TF UP LMFAOOOOO

first of all the college part I FEEL U </3 15 year old me rly thought it’d be partying & nothing else …. absolutely not . at least y/n gets to experience that fantasy college party life instead of us 💔

SUNGCHAN AND Y/N SUPREMACY ‘TIL THE DAY I DIE i’m telling u sungy/n best friendship + chenle of course even tho he’s friends with heeseung … like y/n isn’t on the verge of fucking heeseung lmfaooo THE HICKEY TOO like of course our beloved HOEseung had to leave y/n with a lil souvenir <3 me next

& hee getting jealous over sungchans hoodie…? 🫣 why are u getting jealous hee… hmm… i wonder ……

to sum it up heeseung is one cocky dumb mf & y/n is just as dumb 😁👍 no THANK U for reading & i’m so so glad u enjoyed part two my dear heetiddy anon, hopefully u will enjoy the next part just as much <33 i love u to the moon and back !!!! #snowandheetiddyanonagainsttheworld

[swapbrcsblastcr]

((AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH??????????????????????))

[cdrmiller]

i think maximus is the perfect name for a varren puppy. just saying

“Doooooo-IT, Doooooo-IT, Dooooo-IT!” The blonde man chanted, his biceps rippling every time he slammed his fist on the table with each syllable.

Marie could barely tap the correct places on the omni pad from laughing. Laughing at what, she couldn’t say, the amount of alcohol she had consumed made everything –and nothing – hilarious.

“Maddy I don’t think”- she wheezed, “this is a good idea-“.

“Dooooooo-IT!”

“OKAY OKAY I DID IT.”

They were too busy whooping and wiping tears out of their eyes to notice the golden eyed man who came strolling into the near-empty bar and after a glance in the laughing hyenas’ direction, turned and went straight for the counter.

“It’s a big tab tonight.” The bartender said with a casual grin. “I can pretty much tell by now when they are nearing their limit and the last thing I need is two more bodies I can’t carry passed out in here.” He gestured to the form of a Turian splayed out over a table in the back, snoring away.

“Yea, Bert, thanks for letting me know….again.” Nico handed over his holo-card so the bartender could take whatever credits would settle the tab.

“Aw, Ems, our fun is over.”

“Noooooooo, why- oh hiiiiiiii babe!” Her heavy lidded eyes squinting when she smiled up at Nico as he came to a stop beside her. “Hi, hihihi.”

“Hi Bella. Time to go home, si?”

“You’re so sexy baby. Isn’t he sexy Maddy? Sooooooooooo soooooooooo sexxxxxy. So. Sexy. Sosexy.”

“Sex.” Maddox muttered from around his glass of blue liquid before collapsing into another fit of laughing. The few remaining patrons glanced their way, mildly curious to know why someone was now yelling SEX at the top of their lungs between bouts of wheezing laughter.

“Yep,” Nico nodded to himself, “It’s time.”

“I wonder what it’s like…to be that tall.” After several failed attempts, Nico’s pleading with her to stop even as he held her steady, Marie finally looked down on him from atop the table, brown eyes wide with wonder. “Wowwwwwww.”

“Okayy,” Nico's huge hands gripped her sides as he gingerly lifted and then lowered her, holding onto her arm as her feet touched the ground. He gestured to Maddox with the other. “Come on, you too.”

“I’ll be fiiiiiine,” Maddox leaned back, flicking a hand in Nico’s general direction. “I mean I am fine,” his voice dropping an octave as he suggestively ran a hand up his own thigh to rub his chest. “But I’m also fine. I can see my own self home.”

“Not leaving you here in this condition.”

“It’s not a battlefield, Morrisini, it’s a bar.”

This sent Marie into another uncontrollable fit of laughter, which in turn, for reasons unknown to anyone, sent Maddox into another uncontrollable fit of laughter.

***********************************

“I’m never drinking, ever again.”

“You say that every time, my love.” Nico kissed her forehead and slid her favorite mug, the sparkly one with the unicorn horn for a handle, into her hands.

“Never ever.” She groaned, sitting up in bed to sip the liquid that matched her eyes. “I don’t even remember half of what happened last night.”

“You. Maddox. Blue drinks. That’s all I need to say.”

So lost in the feel of the warmth spreading down her throat that soothed her throbbing head, lost in the thought of wishing she could hug the first person millennia ago that picked up a bean and decided to make it into this magical liquid, she didn’t even notice the light knock at the door. She took another big drink, filling her mouth with the only thing would keep her alive right now, reluctantly coming out of her stupor to the sound of rapid scratching against some sort of container and animalistic whimpers followed by an unfamiliar voice.

“A …Mrs. Miller ordered a varren puppy to this address?”

The man didn’t know what to take in first after glancing back up from his data pad, the giant in front of him and his slack jawed, gaping mouth, or the woman in the background spitting coffee all over the crisp white bed sheets.

[sargassostories]

emhyr's really evil because all the other witcher characters get to be represented by cool animals like wolves, swallows, ravens, larks, vipers, i could go on and on.... and he gets A HEDGEHOG. If I got turned into a small spiky creature prone to getting air trapped under its skin when those were alternatives, I would commit war crimes, too

wowwwwwww what a take!!!! but hedgehogs are chill? are they not chill? idk I don’t have hedgehogs where I live they get AIR trapped under their SKIN??

no wonder buddy is like MY SYMBOL IS THE SUN NO FURTHER COMMENTS

[look-at-the-soul]

Reb @peakyswritings wowwwwwww 🙌🏻👏🏻 this part is brilliant!!

That was why, when he witnessed her vulnerability, he was almost surprised to see that she, too, could be fragile. But with that fragility came a whole different wilfulness, a stubborn refusal to bend that made her even more ardent. More beautiful. And he wondered how many more sides of herself she kept hidden.- this part really shows a side of Nina we rarely get to see, and the perfect opportunity for Tommy to step in!

He tucked an unruly strand of hair that had fallen in front of her face behind her ear, then his large hand travelled down the side of her neck, his thumb gently rubbing against the delicate skin of her throat. She quivered almost imperceptibly, and her eyes lit up in a way that ignited his whole being. And the thread did snap. His hand went to grab the nape of her neck, and he crashed his lips against hers in a desperate, almost harsh kiss.- 🙌🏻🙌🏻🙌🏻 yes yes! Everything about their kiss is perfect 😍 the intensity, the genuine need! Oof I need more of them!

Heart, Body and Soul || Tommy Shelby x OC

PART VI

Summary: After the events of the previous day, Tommy and Nina are forced to come to terms with a truth they have refused to acknowledge for far too long.

Warnings: mentions of arranged marriage, slow-burn, small age-gap (Tommy’s 30, Nina is in her early 20s), time-typical misogyny, mentions of attempted assault, no proofreading, English is not my first language. This is set between season 1 and 2.

A/N: like in the last chapter, there are some dialogues which are supposed to be in Italian, which I chose to write in English for the sake of the readers (and mine, ‘cause otherwise I should’ve translated lots of stuff). In this case, it is the second dialogue between Nina and her mother. I’m sorry for the long wait, and thank you for bearing with me!

PREVIOUS PART

SERIES MASTERLIST

Gif credit

Dividers credit

The first light of the morning filtered through the lace curtains of the kitchen window, bathing the room in a warm glow. Holding a cup of coffee in her hands, Nina stared into space, the events of the night before repeatedly playing in her mind. Tommy’s touch still lingered against her cheek, hesitant and tender as he touched her with a gentleness she had never known before. A gentleness that made her lean even closer, eager to feel more of the bare brushing of their lips, that made her wonder what it would feel like if she allowed herself to melt into him. His strong body seemed like a safe space, like something steady and reliable. But that warm, unfamiliar feeling was soon replaced by the blast of cold that suddenly hit her when he moved away.

How could she have been so stupid?

She had let her emotions get the best of her, and humiliated herself for nothing. It wasn’t him that she wanted. What she wanted was to get rid of the skin-crawling feeling that Stefano’s hands had left on her, so she had clung to the first person who had offered her a hint of safety and comfort. What a fool she had been, for forgetting that the only person who could ever bring her safety and comfort was herself. For letting Stefano mess her up once again. It was all a game of power to him, he had played her like a pawn, and she had fell for it. Because Stefano did what he did to let her know that he could do everything he wanted to her, if he just decided to. With the blood boiling in her veins, she promised to herself she wouldn’t let him hold that much power over her, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of making her cave. She’d go on as if nothing happened, but without forgetting what he did. And when the right time came, she’d make him regret ever daring to lay his filthy hands on her. He had tormented her for years, tried to force her into a marriage, scared and threatened her in her own home, a place where she was supposed to be safe. He would pay for that.

“Sei già sveglia?” (You’re up already?)

Her mother’s voice pulled Nina out of her thoughts, and only then did she realise how tight her hold around the cup’s handle had become. She loosened her grip, a sigh escaping her lips as the pain of her own nails digging in her palm eased. Sinking lower in her seat, she fixed her gaze upon a crack in the wooden table, well aware that she couldn’t escape Maria Ferrante’s ever-observant eye. “Sono andata a letto presto, ieri.” (I went to bed early, yesterday.)

The older woman walked further into the kitchen, squinting her eyes as if she had spotted something. Still carefully avoiding her gaze, Nina watched her get closer from under her lashes, until she stopped right in front of her. She let out a groan as her mother took ahold of her chin to get a better look at her face. “Che hai in faccia?” (What’s that?)

Nina gulped, her mind trying to find an excuse for the scratch that Stefano had left when he had dug his fingernails in her cheek. “È stato Winston,” she professed, turning her head to free herself from her mother’s grip. (It was Winston.)

The woman mumbled some curses towards the poor animal that, for once, was actually innocent.

“È stata colpa mia,” Nina quickly added. “L’ho fatto arrabbiare.” (It was my fault, I made him angry.)

Maria Ferrante pursed her lips in disapproval, and a frown appeared on those once beautiful features, which had started to wither way too soon under the weight of the years and of a life devoted to caring for others and never herself.

Nina had to restrain herself from breathing a sigh of relief when her mother walked over to the cupboard, letting the matter drop. But as she watched her bustling about to make breakfast for everyone, she was overwhelmed by a mounting sense of unease. It was a familiar feeling, one that had been accompanying her for as long as she could remember, yet she had never been able to figure it out. It usually rose without warning, making her head spin, sending her into a state of distress that made her feel physically sick, and she got the impression there was something deeply wrong with her life. After years of dealing with it, she had found a pattern, and she had realised that most of the times - although not always - it was connected to her mother.

All her life, Nina had feared to become like her. Always silent, always compliant as she let her husband and sons treat her like a slave, pretending not to notice the way they unconsciously looked down on her - because she was not clever, she was ignorant, she wasn’t even able to read or write. She was a wife and a mother before being a person. They loved her, but they loved her like something that belonged to them. And deep down, Nina knew she was loved the same way.

She knew the opinion they had of her was not that distant from the one they had of her mother. It didn’t matter that she had finished school, it didn’t matter how much she kept on studying and learning on her own, it didn’t matter how much she tried to prove that she was capable. She was always a woman. That limitation was the wall the stood between her and the world, and the more she tried to climb over it or walk around it, the taller and wider it grew.

To some extent, in her family, Nina was already her mother.

Standing in front of the mirror in the room that had become his in the last couple of weeks, Tommy straightened his tie, his gaze scanning his whole figure to make sure nothing was out of place. His face was freshly shaved, his suit neatly pressed, his shoes polished. The only jarring note were the purple shadows under his eyes, proof of a sleepless night. Ever since he had left Nina’s room, he had been tormented by a strange feeling of restlessness. He had hardly closed his eyes, his mind relentlessly circling around everything that had been happening in the last month, and everything that was to come. But in that endless vortex, one thought emerged above all others. How was she?

The question nagged at him, making it impossible for him to shift his attention on any other subject. From the moment he had met her, Nina had seemed to him an unbreakable force. She was fierce, and untamable, with a fire in her eyes mighty enough to burn whole cities to the ground. That was why, when he witnessed her vulnerability, he was almost surprised to see that she, too, could be fragile. But with that fragility came a whole different wilfulness, a stubborn refusal to bend that made her even more ardent. More beautiful. And he wondered how many more sides of herself she kept hidden.

Almost a month had passed since his arrival in Sicily, and during time, she had slowly made her way into his head, clouding his judgment. Because he knew he shouldn’t be thinking about her, not when he was courting her cousin. Not when the decision had been made. But the events of that day had put him in front of a truth he had refused to acknowledge, a truth that made him feel something too close to fear.

Last last night more than ever, he couldn’t take his mind off her, off her scent, off the feeling of her soft hair brushing against his skin. Did she have any idea how hard it had been for him to pull away? That he had only left her room because otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to restrain himself any longer? That, had she been in a less vulnerable position, he wouldn’t have hesitated to do what every cell in his body was begging him to do?

Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to compose himself. There was no need to make things more difficult than they already were. He opened the drawer of his bedside table, revealing the velvety box that had been closed there for far too long. He reached for it and opened it to take a look at the ring he had bought along the necklace he had gifted Agnese a few weeks earlier, when he had declared his intention to marry her. The big diamond ring seemed to stare back at him, and his stomach clenched at the thought that it was time to do what he was expected to do. He snapped the box shut and placed it in the inside pocket of his jacket, telling himself there was no point in dwelling on things that had no chance to exist.

As he headed downstairs, the sound of Nina’s voice came to his ears, and his nerves started tingling with anticipation. How would she act, now? How was he supposed to act? Should he ask her how she was, or should he pretend nothing had happened, just like she told him?

He could tell there was a whole story behind what had happened with Stefano the previous day, one that he wasn’t aware of, and part of him wanted to ask her. The other part, however, feared that she might close off again, and that all the steps forward that they had taken would be erased, taking them back where they started.

Before Tommy could cross the living room, Nina came out of the kitchen, too lost in thought to notice him, at first. But once she did, she stopped in her tracks, and an unreadable expression spread over her features. For the next few seconds, they just looked at each other in complete silence, waiting for the other to say something. The small scratch on her face caught his eye, suddenly taking him back to last night, when he had ran his knuckle over it with a softness he didn’t know he possessed, when he had got the impression that her cheek had been made just to fit perfectly in the palm of his rough hand. How close she had been…

“Good morning.” Nina’s voice harshly brought him back to reality, and it was like a bucket of cold water had been poured over him.

Tommy cleared his voice, struck by an odd feeling of guilt for indulging further in those thoughts. “Morning,” he murmured, recollecting himself. He had to remember where he was, and where his priorities stood. But it was so hard when the warmth of her body so close to his was imprinted on him, and when he could still feel the way her lips had barely brushed against his.

“I’m having lunch at Agnese’s house today,” he blurted out before he could think about what he was saying. And maybe his words had some kind of effect on her, but she was so quick to hide it that he figured he had probably imagined it.

Nina nodded, hoping that whatever she was feeling in that moment wasn’t written all over her face. She wasn’t even sure what it was that she was feeling, she just knew that she didn’t like it. And that it wasn’t right.

Tommy was going to propose.

That awareness knocked the air out of her lungs, and she cursed herself for feeling like that. It was wrong. And she had no right. She had to get a grip and take control of those emotions, before they irreversibly took control of her. Tommy’s icy stare seemed to be piercing right through her, making it impossible for her to focus and formulate some coherent sentence. Fucking blue eyes.

“Good,” it was all she could manage to utter.

Another heavy silence fell down upon them, and the words they really wanted to say - the words they didn’t even have the courage to tell themselves - were left hanging in the air, where they would vanish, sooner or later. Because the things left unsaid would never be real.

In the late afternoon, sitting at the kitchen table, Nina tried to keep herself busy by reading a book, but the words seemed to vanish right in front of her eyes one by one. She was too agitated to read. According to what her brothers had told her before leaving the house earlier that day, the men of the family were currently holding a meeting Tommy Shelby at Agnese’s house. They had mentioned something about Sabini and the next moves, but she had only half-listened to them, her mind occupied by something else entirely. Looking out the window, she glanced at the house on the opposite side of the shared garden, the urge to know what was happening inside it growing with each moment that passed.

“He hasn’t proposed.” Maria Ferrante stormed into the kitchen, carrying a basket full of freshly-picked figs.

Nina blinked, her train of thoughts interrupted by her mother for the second time that day. “What?”

“Mr Shelby hasn’t proposed to Agnese,” she clarified, placing the basket on the table with a thud. Under her daughter’s disconcerted stare, she took some of the figs and walked over to the sink to wash them with hasty, agitated movements. “The poor girl’s desperate, she thinks she has done something wrong.”

It took Nina more than a moment to process her mother’s words, but once she did, it took her way less to realise what that might mean. For her, for Agnese, for the future of her family. As her mind began to race in an all too familiar way, her eyes quickly scanned the room in search for something to focus on in order not to slip into the whirlpool of scattered thoughts, but the clatter caused by the older woman’s fumbling with the cutlery only added to the frenzied state of her brain. Her heart pounded in her chest, drumming in her ears, and she found herself jiggling her leg up and down to ease the tension. Finally, her attention was grabbed by the clock hanging on the wall, and in the second hand her restless gaze found something to hold on to. With each second that passed, her heart decreased its speed and the noise in her mind quietened, bringing her some relief. Closing her eyes, she exhaled a breath, glad to be back in control of herself. “This whole thing was a mistake,” she mumbled, shaking her head.

Even though she was facing away from her mother, Nina could tell she had halted, because the fuss suddenly stopped. “What do you mean?” She asked, but before her daughter had the chance to answer, she placed a plate with some figs cut in half in front of her. “Eat.”

At first, Nina scrunched her nose, sure that the mere sight of food would be enough make her stomach turn. Ever since the events of the previous day, it had been too knotted up for her to feel hungry. However, as soon as the delicious smell of the fruits filled her nostrils her appetite awoke, and she was quick to take a bite. The sweet pulp melted on her tongue, and the sensation almost made her forget what she was about to say. “I mean,” she spoke again after eating the first piece. “That it isn’t the Shelbys we should’ve tried to form an alliance with.”

Her mother’s eyebrows shot upwards, and a disapproving expression made its way on her face. “These things are not our concern,” she reproachfully pointed a finger at her daughter, sitting on a chair in front of her. “Your father and your uncles are doing-”

“They’re doing all the wrong things.” Nina interrupted her, slightly raising her voice. “And it is our concern. It’s our life, we should have a say in it.”

“Your father knows what’s best for this family.”

“Does he?”

Maria Ferrante crossed her arms over her chest, averting her eyes from her daughter’s, and the silence that followed gave Nina the chance to go on. “This was a mistake, you know it too,” she added, lowering her voice again. “You might fool dad by pretending you know nothing about this business, but you can’t fool me.”

A strange glimpse crossed her mother’s eyes at her words, but it didn’t last more than an instant. Her features hardened again, and it was like that subtle, ephemeral emotion had never been there. “What I think is not important.”

This time, it was Nina who chose not to reply. It was useless, after all. Her mother had spent her whole life convinced that all she was born to do was to take care of someone else, without ever being able to make a single decision for herself, or voice her thoughts, and that conviction was too deeply rooted inside her to be eradicated.

“You’re a lucky girl, Nina. You shouldn’t forget that.” Maria leaned over the table, looking her daughter right in the eyes. “Take a look around you. You have a big, nice house with a big, nice garden, and a room you can call your own. You have never known misery, nor hunger,” she paused, her gaze becoming absent, as if getting lost in some old memory. She then leaned back in her chair, staring at a point in front of her. “It feels like bites. Hunger, I mean.”

Nina shifted uncomfortably in her seat, letting those words sink in. Although her mother’s stark expression gave nothing away, she sensed that some old, unforgotten pain was begging to be acknowledged, and she could almost feel that pain as if it were her own.

Coming back to her senses, Maria fixed her eyes on her daughter again, her gaze displaying a fierceness that appeared almost odd on her face. “You don’t know it. You haven’t even known it during the war. That’s all thanks to your father, and what he does.”

Nina watched quietly as mother got up from her chair, starting to busy herself with what needed tidying up. “He does what he does for us. Be grateful, and don’t question his decisions.” Her voice took on a stern tone, one that brooked no arguments, indicating that the discussion was over. “And eat,” she ordered, nodding toward the plate.

Pouring the tea she had just made in a cup, Nina glanced at the clock. Midnight had passed a long time ago, but once again her brain was keeping her up, preventing her from getting some much needed sleep. She’d had lots of time to think, though, and the long, relaxing bath she had taken had helped her free her mind for a while. She could see things more clearly, now.

Her first fear had been that Tommy might decide to go on with the war, but after pondering the subject, she had come to the conclusion that it wasn’t an option. He had proposed an alliance because he knew he had no chance of winning that war, the attacks to his pubs and his men were the proof. Not to mention that if he were to decide to call everything off he would be killed on the spot. The Peaky Blinder Devil was surrounded by potential enemies, with not a single man by his side, and he had willingly put himself in that position.

Because he was not afraid to die.

That was the answer to all of her questions, the missing piece that had prevented her from fully understanding why her family feared him so much, to the point of not even considering to form an alliance with Sabini instead. Tommy Shelby was not afraid to die, therefore, he had no limitations.

But the more she seemed to be close to figuring him out, the more questions rose, and Nina couldn’t explain why - despite all her efforts not to think about him - her mind was so adamant on trying to unravel the mystery that was Tommy Shelby. She had started because she didn’t trust him, because she wanted to know what his true intentions were, because she wanted to try and anticipate his moves - something that the men of her family seemed to fail at. Now she just couldn’t stop, for what she had found was so far from what she had expected.

She couldn’t explain the deep connection she felt to him, a connection that perhaps had always been there, since the very beginning, when all she seemed to feel for him was spite. Even then, there was something drawing them towards one another, forcing them to keep on bickering and bantering, to look for those apparently insignificant quarrels and challenges. Then there were their secret meetings, those nights where time seemed to stand still, where he wasn’t Tommy Shelby, and she wasn’t Nina Ferrante, and they were almost normal people, and they were allowed to let their masks fall. She remembered every laugh he had drawn from of her with the stories of his childhood, every smile she had managed to coax out of him with her witty retorts. And she had learned he was not a Devil, like everybody called him. Behind his steely glare and the layers of ice that protected him like an armour, he was very much human.

There must’ve been a reason why every night since the first casual encounter they had left their rooms in the hope of just enjoying each other’s company. There must’ve been a reason why their eyes begged to meet every time they were in the same room, and their hands longed for the slightest touch. There must’ve been a reason why she was standing there, hoping he would walk through that door.

But that reason didn’t matter. Because in the light of the day, he was Tommy Shelby, she was Nina Ferrante, and he would marry her cousin. Soon he would go back to Birmingham, and she would stay there, going back to the life she had grown to despise. The seas between them would erase the invisible string that seemed to bind them together, and she would forget how he had made her laugh, how she had made him smile. And it would be as if her soul had never met his.

Nina’s heart increased its speed when she heard the footsteps that had become now familiar to her, and she had to remind herself that night wouldn’t be like the others. She had to push him away, restore the distance between them before it was too late. If they crossed that line, there would be no going back.

Silently, Tommy entered the kitchen. All the spontaneity their relationship had acquired over the weeks was gone, and he was unsure how to behave. He didn’t even know what had brought him there again, after he had told himself he had to stop thinking about her. Maybe the same thing that had kept him from proposing to Agnese.

Nina was standing near the table, pouring her usual awful amount of honey in her steaming cup of tea. Leaning against the doorframe, Tommy allowed himself a moment to admire the way the white cotton of her nightgown brought out her tan skin and dark hair. She seemed off guard, but he knew she was aware of his presence. Once she was done, she gazed at him, and her fiery eyes shone in the dim light, pinning him right where he stood.

“I was thirsty,” he explained after a moment of hesitation, walking further into the room.

Without saying a word, Nina took a glass from one of the cabinets and poured water in it. When she handed it to him, her fingers brushed against his, and shivers of electricity raced across his skin. With the proximity, he was engulfed by the scent of lavender and honey that had been plaguing him in his sleep, making him long for something he could never have.

He would never feel anything like that with Agnese.

Nina took a few steps back, breaking the bubble that formed every time they were close to each other. Tommy tightened his grip around the glass for a second, then placed it on the table. He didn’t need to pretend it hadn’t been just an excuse to see her. He searched for something to say, but Nina beat him to it, and what she said next felt like a stab through his chest.

“You should propose to Agnese.”

She wasn’t even looking at him. She was cold, distant, almost like the day they had met. Taken aback by her sudden statement, Tommy blinked, hoping he had misheard. “What?”

“You’ve been courting her long enough,” she said bitterly.

Nina’s words aroused a certain anger in Tommy, the same anger he felt every time he sensed that his hand was being forced. But it wasn’t just anger, there was something else with that. “It’s not your place to decide-”

“It is my fucking place,” she snapped, finally turning to look at him. “This is my family. And the more we wait, the more we give Sabini the time to act against us.”

Tommy’s expression changed, and all the annoyance she had read moments before on his face gave way to something else. He raised his eyebrows in a mocking way, taking a look around before shifting his gaze on her again. “So you’ve finally admitted it,” he he said, and the shadow of a smug smirk appeared on his face.

“Admitted what?” She seethed.

“That your family needs my family.”

Nina snorted, fighting the urge to slap the smugness out of his face. Even in a serious situation, he couldn’t resist looking for a way to get under her skin.

“That’s not the point,” she argued, averting her eyes from his. “The point is - it’s time to get this over with.” The more she spoke, the harder it became to keep her voice steady, but she did it nonetheless, attempting to sound as convincing as she could. Maybe she’d end up convincing herself as well. “And this…thing that we’re doing,” she paused, the words burning in her throat as she uttered them. “It has to stop.”

Something flashed across Tommy’s features, and Nina instantly regretted addressing the topic. A strange tension fell into the room as his face became serious again.

“This thing,” he emphasised, as if pondering her words. The way his deep voice echoed in the silence of the room awakened something inside her, and heat crept up cheeks. “Tell me,” he squinted his eyes, starting to walk in her direction with slow, measured steps. “What is it that we’re doing?”

The breath hitched in her throat, but Nina stood still in her place, forcing herself to bear his gaze. “Nothing.”

“Nothing,” he repeated, nodding to himself. He took another step forward, looking down at her with a hint of challenge in his eyes, almost daring her to deny what was right in front of them one more time. She was now trapped between his body and the table, and the closeness alone was enough to make his nerves tingle.

“Tommy, please,” she whispered.

God, had she ever called him by his name before? The way it rolled off her lips, along with her intoxicating scent and the feeling of her warm body - too close to ignore it but still too far away to feel it completely - threatened to destroy the last shred of his self-control. It was hanging by a thread, a thread that was about to snap at any given moment.

He tucked an unruly strand of hair that had fallen in front of her face behind her ear, then his large hand travelled down the side of her neck, his thumb gently rubbing against the delicate skin of her throat. She quivered almost imperceptibly, and her eyes lit up in a way that ignited his whole being. And the thread did snap. His hand went to grab the nape of her neck, and he crashed his lips against hers in a desperate, almost harsh kiss.

But it didn’t take Tommy more than a few seconds to regain control of his instincts. He pulled away, sucking in a sharp breath as he was hit by the realisation of what he had just done. His jaw twitched when his gaze met Nina’s wide eyes, and an overwhelming sense of guilt - way more powerful than the one he had felt that morning - started to weigh on his conscience. Then, as if the contact of their skin had burned him, he let his hand fall and took a step back. He tried to utter an apology, but no sound came out of his mouth. For an amount of time that seemed to stretch into eternity, neither of them did anything, and the possibility of having scared her only added to Tommy’s feeling of guilt. But a second glance was enough to realise it wasn’t fear that was painted on Nina’s face. Before he had the chance to say something, she closed the distance between them, grabbing his face to pull him in for another kiss. After the initial surprise, he was quick to wrap his arms around her, bringing her closer, eager to feel every inch of her body pressing against him. Her soft mouth moved against his tenderly, with a bit of hesitation that made his head spin. Their tongues danced together as he took control of the kiss, and he felt like he could melt right there in her arms. And as much as he wanted to restrain himself, to handle her more delicately, he couldn’t. He had waited far too long.

Tommy’s scent invaded Nina’s nostrils, clouding her senses, and she feared her knees might give out as he kissed her like a man starved. It was passionate, sensual, and lit a fire inside her she had never felt before. And despite everything, it felt right. Nothing had ever felt so right like the feeling of his strong frame against her.

But it wasn’t right. In a moment of clarity, Nina reluctantly broke their kiss, her lips still brushing against Tommy’s. Catching her breath, she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to quieten the turmoil inside for her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

With great gentleness, Tommy grabbed her chin, raising her face so that she would look at him. “I’m not.”

NEXT PART

Heart, Body and Soul tag list: @zablife @queenofshinigamis @raincoffeeandfandoms @call-sign-shark @kmc1989 @babayaga67 @kmhappybunny240 @diorrfairy @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @gaslysainz @brummiereader @loverhymeswith @fairypitou @prettywhenicry4 @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @woofgocows @girlwith-thepearlearring

Tag list: @iamngoclinh08 @lilywinchesterlove @fandom-puff @capitanostella @caelys @lucillethings @peakyxtommy @queenofkings1212 @lyarr24 @kmc1989 @call-sign-shark @jomarch-wannabe @ce1iat @areyenotfondofmelobster

Tommy Shelby tag list: @50svibes

[ichayalovesyou]

Broken Bow parts 1 & 2 (Live Reaction):

Ah, so we’re kicking off with smarting up Archer’s prejudice against Vulcans that I know from all my Vulcantology research he grows out of. Neat.

Oh shit Klingon on earth?? Look at those glorious locks! Who are these weird squishy bendy dudes?? Oh that shiz EXPLODED. I’ve got my yeehaw phaser rifle and I kills a Klingon- fuck is THAT how the war started?! Whether or not that’s stupid remains to be seen.

Wowwwww this theme song... is... a lot. Star Trek, bruh, since when??? No. Just... no. Oh hey it’s Archer & Trip a lil’ light fantastic! Ngl Trip’s actually cute. Oh wow they really don’t know Klingons. Oh hey Phlox is here! I get where Archer is coming from about the plug pulling thing, even if Klingon culture is very “HONOR!!” and stuff. Even then, wouldn’t it be detrimental even to a warrior race for them to die when they can be healed?

Vulcans just love acting like everyone else is stupid don’t they? Wow everyone is racist at like, everybody (aliens wise) this definetly has established itself as pre-Federation. Ope! More new characters! Baby ensign dude (Travis!) and British ship’s engineer(?) oh hey it’s Hoshi Sato!! Oh look they’re acknowledging that aliens speak more than one language on their workds finally!! Behold T’Pol! She doesn’t sound like I thought she would? (Idk what that means lol but yeh)

Ohhhh man Trip, Vulcans don’t do haaands my dude, didn’t you get debriefed? But also would it have killed her to explain? Communicate damnit! Give us a speech elderly white boy! Yeehaw warp engines!! Cool speech call back or really it’s Kirk (& Picard and prob Pike soon) Doing the callback to Cochrane!

Oooh shady time travel aliens are back!! Phlox is here! I always got good/fun vibes from him, like, a lil’ creepy but in an entertaining way! Travis is adorable and I love him already, space station boyyyyy. THREE, THREE WHAT?? Travis’s generation are called Boomers?? LOL it makes sense that we’d have a baby boom after planetary colonization became possible but that’s practically a derogatory term now 😂

Time for a dinner chock full of microaggressions! Yup I was right, wowwwwwww everyone is being secret awful (T’Pol not so secret awful) but yeah I can see where all that VHS racism stuff comes from. Lol, oooooo Hoshi & T’Pol having a lil’ cat fight, Archer is such a dad lol. Poor Sato is so fucking stressed it’s okay gf! The ship is just not working and you’re learning Klingon and there’s an invisible alien aboard its FINE!! OH SHIT THAT KLINGON GOT KIDNAPPED!!!!!

Oh so the engineer’s name is Reed okay, oh this is the one with the Suliban. Wow T’Pol is kind of a bitch! She is just belittlement after belittlement, she’s like Spock but WORSE. Like, I’m definitely starting to understand Archer’s resentment toward them is coming from, not that it’s right, but it is understandable. Especially Vulcans have been having this sort of attitude toward humans (and other species) this whole time. Both races clearly have a LOT to learn.

Oh so this Suliban dude is a GMO, I actually freaking love Phlox. Good job Trip tryna bridge the gap between T’Pol and Archer but ooof still too salty. Oh wow! We’re going to Rigel for the first time okay?! Neat! Oof our Klingon boy out here getting interrogated oh shit! It wouldn’t be an earth 2000s scifi without a skanky bar and funky alien strippers. Uh oh Trip is about to make a mistake, oh thank god T’Pol stopped him *big exhale* everything is so new to us! It’s so interesting!

Ew creepy lady why u kiss him??? Oh it’s the “alien woman has to do (explicit/romantic action) to do (thing)” trope 🙄. Oh so there’s time travel shit going on??? Okay!!! What?! Okay! Man the GMO Suliban can do some seriously freaky shit! Okay I love Travis & Reed they’re cool, Reed is suave and Trav is adorable! OOp ARCHER GOT SHOT THE LEG! Close call close call!! Oh ffs T’Pol don’t take command, everything you’ve shown us so far is that you think humans are shit, hey maybe she’ll surprise me.

Ugh this is about to be- aaaaand it’s unnecessarily sexualizong T’Pol 🙄🙄🙄🤮🤮🤮. Trip can you please not call T’Pol out and be racist in the same sentence, I’d rather you just do the former please. OH YAY! T’Pol did surprise me! Good job T’Pol (and Trip... kinda... I guess). “One good turn deserves another” good line, but “doesn’t sound very Vulcan” is proof Archer really doesn’t understand Vulcans! Or at least not what they aspire to. Ohhhh Kay NOW we’re working together! Good! Good!!

I wonder who creepy time lord dude is. Sato THANK YOU why, WHY don’t starships have seat belts?!?! Makes no goddamn sense. Oh I was wrong earlier! Reed’s a pilot and Tucker’s the engineer, okay! I wonder what happened between this episode and Discovery (being the next closest in the timeline) that makes us enemies with the Klingons? Travis out here teaching Tucker how to drive I’m sure this will end well. I’m low key starting to get Bones-Spock energy from T’Pol & Archer. FURST PISTOLS WITH A STUN SETTINH HELL YEAH!

Alright alright, T’Pol is growing on me, awww Archer is soft! “U okay?” I can vibe with that! Hell yeah! I kinda wish I knew Klingon so I knew what this dude wa saying (but I’ve already got my hands full with Vulkansu). Archer why in the fuck are you wandering around?! Do you want to get caught/not found!??! Stay put dummy! Aaaand there’s the BBEG, oh, and he’s Suliban! Oh good thing that laser pistol is set to stun (oh and he dodged). Oooh scary transporter lmao.

Uh oh, was it al for nothing are these dudes gonna kill him anyway? Oh, no! Good so they just cussed Archer out lmfao. Thus the saga begins! Abandon yo grudges and pride Archer my dude, vouch for T’Pol hell yeah! Alright! I hope these two become friends hell yeah hell yeah! Time to boldly go say hi and introduce yourself to all these new aliens! Heck yeah!!

God I’m sure there were plenty of annoying ass Trekkies who were like “iT’s nOt rEaL sTaR tReK” like, how?? Because the costumes look different and they’re exploring a new time period and themes?? 🙄🙄🙄 gimme a BREAK with that shit, honestly. So far it’s been pretty interesting! Every Star Trek is Star Trek!

[promisebymin]

this is gonna be a long one but . THIS THING JUST . Okay so at the car dealership waiting for my car n just had a weird experience idk how to feel about sjdjzjjd I was minding my business n some sales guy came up to me asking about what car I have n why I’m waiting you know the basic questions then outta nowhere starts asking personal stuff like what I do and where I’m heading with my school then after after he’s like “I don’t know why but I get this feeling that I need to tell you that you’re amazing bc I think you haven’t heard that in so long ... go wherever your heart wants bc at this moment you’re stuck and idk with what exactly but you’re scared of change bc you don’t want to fail but you are capable of it and don’t worry” then he started telling me about his son n his ex and how the ex went into the medical field even tho she originally was doing something else n he gets that’s feeling from me like career wise n I was like well I am considering switching into the field but I’m not sure then he started telling me about how he just had this pull to let me know about it and he wasn’t trying to flirt with me bc he has a wife djdjdjdjdid but then he said “you have people around you that are stopping you in what you want to do bc you think too much about them and not yourself ((me thinking abt my parents plus others 😳)) and also some that you were hoping would stay in your life forever but they hav left or are planning on leaving ((me thinking abt my ex HAHAH )) n I was just like wowwwwwww man. I almost kinda felt like crying 🚶🏼‍♀️ but I was just saying thank u then he gave me his card n said I could call him if I needed to ask him about anything n now I’m sitting here 5 minutes later wondering if he really meant what he said or he’s trying to butter me up so I can buy some car parts LMAOO okay finnnn i think I remembered the important parts but it was just so . Wow .

[fayes-fics]

WOWWWWWWW 🤩🤩🥹🥹🥹🥹

This is the most comprehensive review I’ve ever gotten. You see things in my writing that are subconscious, tbh if I thought too much about it I wouldn’t get anything written. But it’s fascinating when someone else points things out like this. Thank you for taking the time to write down all your thoughts.

To a few of your many amazing points:

- I can’t help but write Benedict as supportive to and self sacrificing for those he loves. It’s just who he is, he loves people deeply, regardless or their “use” to him and will do anything to make them happy.

- Thank you for your kind words about the way I write Anthony, it’s just the essence of who he is to me. He is the leader of the family and has to be solid and safe. Yeah he has moments where he wavers and needs love and support, but he has stepped up and IS Viscount.

- Yes the foreshadowing of the ending in the post coital scene was intentional. To me that is the night she got pregnant, they just didn’t know it at the time.

- Yes I wanted eye contact to be an important theme, particularly between Anthony and reader, they can’t really share anything meaningful together, this was a means to an end, but they both did it for Benedict and will always wrestle with the enjoyment they both obviously got out of it. Just part of the mess of being human lol.

There’s so much more I could say, but just thank you for trusting me with your detailed prompt. Thank you for your wonderful words about my writing 🥹😁🧡🧡

The Things We Do For Love

Pairings: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Benedict and his wife ask for Anthony's help to conceive a child.

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors dni, MMF threesome, fingering, dirty talk, vaginal sex, no incest. Married couple, infertility, conception, childbirth. Angst & emotion.

Word Count: 5.5k

Authors Note: This is a fic request fill for @broooookiecrisp from this ask (in essence, Benedict and his wife turn to Anthony for help to conceive a child). Thank you to @colettebronte and @makaylan for their invaluable advice and betaing. This is very different to my usual threesomes. This is much more angsty and emotional, but there is a happy ending. I hope you all enjoy <3

“Don’t worry, darling,” he soothes as you tear up, “it will happen for us one day.”

Despite his words, you stare at the bloody rag and feel nothing but failure.

More than anything, you want to give him children. Perhaps not a brood to rival his prestigious family, but a few children would be nice��two, maybe three. And you, more than anything, want to be a mother. To nurture life, be surrounded by children's laughter, and bring wonderful, new humans into the world.

But six months into your marriage, despite frequent, wonderful, vigorous, and enjoyable attempts, every month, your courses have arrived like clockwork, and every time, you feel you are letting him down.

“Please don’t cry,” his sweet, comforting voice almost pained; his lips mashed into your temple as he gently rocks you. “I love you regardless of if we can ever have a family. I need you to know that,” his voice sincere, maybe a little desperate.

“I know that, Benedict; I love you too; I just….” you say between muted sobs, “…I just want to give you a family like yours.”

“Darling, for all we know, it is I who is at fault, not you. In fact, we would never know unless…” he doesn’t finish the sentence, but his mien turns thoughtful.

“Unless what?” you prompt, lifting your head to look at him intently.

“Unless you attempt to get pregnant via another man,” he sighs, his face pinched.

“No!! No!!” bile rises in your throat at merely the idea of being with anyone but him. He is the only man you have ever known intimately, the only one you trust. “I can’t do this with anyone but you, Benedict,” you plead.

“And believe me, my darling, the thought of you with anyone else makes me nauseated, but this may be our only choice to find out. And perhaps actually have a baby we can raise as our own,” he points out.

He’s right, and you hate it. You would do anything to let him be the father he so obviously yearns to be. And if that means you have to lay with another man, for him, and only him, you will make yourself do it if that is what he wants. It will hurt your heart beyond belief, but you want him to be a father as much as you wish to be a mother. The problem is that the only man whose babies you want is the one asking you to take another man’s seed.

You draw your knees up on lean on them, sobbing bitterly. Benedict kisses your temple and hugs you as you cry it all out.

——

Benedict hovers nervously outside Anthony’s study at Bridgerton House, having no clue how to broach the topic he wants to discuss. But after weeks of consideration, it’s the only way forward he can see that doesn’t turn his stomach.

“Brother, will you be lurking all day or just for a half-hour?” comes the dry, bemused voice from behind the door.

Benedict stops pacing, closes his eyes briefly, and then, with a decisive nod, heads into the room.

“There is a sensitive matter I would like to discuss with you if you are amenable?” he begins, too nervous to sit in the seat Anthony gestures to. “I’ll stand if you don’t mind.”

“Whatever can it be? You seem quite the bag of nerves,” Anthony observes wryly, leaning back casually in his chair behind the desk.

“It’s regarding children,” Benedict begins slowly and carefully.

“Ah, right, family and intimate matters,” Anthony gets up and closes his office door. He stays standing as Benedict rocks on his feet, and Anthony looks at him expectantly.

There is nothing else but to dive in headfirst. Benedict steels himself for this tough ask and then begins.

“Despite our best efforts, my wife and I are… struggling to become pregnant,” he exhales.

“I am sorry to hear that, but I think a doctor may be a better confidante than myself,” Anthony argues, “should your wife need examining….”

“Well, that’s the thing; I’m not so certain she is at fault,” Benedict counters.

Anthony scoffs. “You are a Bridgerton. If there is one thing we are capable of, it’s progeny,” he laughs, pointing at the row of miniatures of their siblings.

“Well, maybe I am the exception that proves the rule,” Benedict replies quietly and seeing the pain written in the lines of his face, Anthony’s whole demeanour changes.

“I did not mean to make light of your challenges, brother,” Anthony states slowly, “merely that the balance of probability it is not your fault is quite high.”

“Well, there is only one way I can think of to confirm that suspicion,” Benedict answers, “and that is for another man to attempt to impregnate my wife.”

Anthony's shocked expression is a picture. “You wish for your wife to lay with another man?” the contempt in his voice unmaskable.

“Wish it?” Benedict scorns. “I wish anything but. It is the very definition of my nightmare, but… she deserves the world, and If I am at fault, I could never forgive myself if I do not explore all avenues to fulfil her dreams. To make her happy. If I cannot give her children, I will not begrudge her the happiness of motherhood she so desperately craves.”

Anthony is floored by the self-sacrifice his little brother will always make for those he loves.

“And this brings me to my proposal….” Benedict adds warily.

Anthony senses the nerves emanating in waves off him and clamps a reassuring hand onto his shoulder.

“What is it, brother?”

“Selfish as it may sound, I want any child I raise as my own to be a Bridgerton. And there is only one man I would allow to lay with my wife without my stomach turning…. and that dear brother,” he takes a deep breath and meets Anthony’s eye squarely, “is you.”

Anthony freezes and falls back into a nearby chair. Literally stunned.

“I.. “ he begins but can not find more words.

“I'm aware this is a huge ask,” Benedict rushes out, “but I can't think of another palatable solution to my wife's happiness, and, more than anything, I want to give her that. Happiness.”

Anthony can see the quiver in his brother's lip, and his heart breaks for him at this impossible impasse.

“Brother, I’m not sure I can do this,” Anthony wavers honestly, standing up again and beginning to pace.

“Please,” Benedict implores, “please at least consider it. I will sign any private sealed paperwork you wish, ensuring that should she become pregnant, the child has no rights to your title or estates….”

“It’s not that,” Anthony cuts in, frowning that would even be a consideration, “it’s just… Benedict, it’s your brother bedding your wife. This choice seems fraught with potential anguish.”

“It seems unlikely to me at least that two men in the same family would be similarly afflicted, coming as we do from a man capable of siring eight children. If you do not impregnate her, then maybe we will know it is not me at fault,” Benedict argues, appealing to Anthony's logical side that he knows will often win in an emotional moment.

Anthony stops pacing and instead shuffles a pile of perfectly neat paper, nerves manifesting in the need to keep himself busy in the motions of a pointless task. “Allow me to think on it.”

Benedict gives a short sharp nod and, with nothing else he can think to say, takes his leave.

——

His fingers trail gently over your stomach as you lay in post-coital bliss.

“Darling, I have an idea for our baby dilemma,” he offers softly, tracing his lips over your collarbone.

“Mmm, I'm all ears, husband,” you reply drowsily, your ankles twining with his, your fingers running into his thick, lush hair.

Tonight he took you somewhere truly primal, and it feels different. Like it's possible you are actually pregnant this time. That something so fundamental happened in your moment of pure blissful release that, indeed, life was created.

“There is one way to ensure we have a Bridgerton child,” he begins quietly, his warm breath dusting over your dewy skin. “And that is for you to lay with my brother, Anthony.”

The world stops. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears and a weird static buzz in every bone of your face. Like you have been struck by lightning.

No, No, NO, Benedict, your mind wails. Literally anyone but him, dear god.

Unbeknownst to your husband, there is only one man you had ever considered before you met him. And that is his older brother—Viscount Anthony Bridgerton. You harboured a flame for him upon your first visit to Aubrey Hall with your family when you were fifteen, and that really only abated a few years later when you met his wonderful, soulful younger brother who utterly stole your heart.

“Benedict…” you sigh, going to move away, but he holds you in place, staring deep into your eyes, running his hands over your jaw, your cheeks.

“Think about it, my love,” he cuts in. “He is someone I trust with my life. He will not attempt to blackmail us or steal you away from me,” he petitions. “And we look so alike, my brother and me; no one would bat an eyelid about the child’s appearance, should you conceive one. It is the perfect solution,” he looks at you so beseechingly that you almost feel like you are betraying him just by wanting to object. And so you can’t, you don't. You will never deny him the right to fatherhood he so obviously deserves. If that means playing with the fire of your attraction to his brother, you will do it.

You grab his hand and lace your fingers with his. “My love, if this is what you want. I consent,” you murmur as your insides riot at the idea of lying with his brother. “But I have conditions.” you swallow thickly.

“What are they? Anything, my love,” he says pleadingly. “I will do anything for you; you know that,” he asserts as he kisses a fervent line over your cheek to your lips.

“I cannot do this without you,” you answer meekly. “I need you there the whole time. Not just in the room, I need you with me, skin on skin; I need you to hold me when it is happening, to talk to me.”

He inhales sharply. “You wish to lay with both of us? At the same time?”

“Yes, Benedict, my love. I cannot give my body to another man unless you are right there with me. Please, please.”

“I… I….” he stumbles, “I will have to check with him, but if that is what you need, what you desire, I will, of course, be there, my love.”

“Will you fuck me too?” your use of the base, crude term somehow feels necessary in this context.

You see the vein in his neck jump, and his voice turns gravelly. “You want that?”

“Yes, husband. Once he has been with me, I want you to be with me too.” you push up and kiss him deeply, trying to transmit just how much you love him, that for you, how much all of this is for him, for his happiness.

“Alright, my love,” he appeases with delicate kisses, “of course, of course….”

——

When Benedict rises the following day, his valet hands him a hand-delivered note. It is from Bridgerton House, and inside the wax-sealed envelope, on Anthony's signature note paper, there, in neat-looking penmanship, is just one word.

Yes.

Benedict drops the card onto his desk and rubs his temples, uncertain if he should feel elated or empty.

——

The fateful night arrives sooner than you would like, but equally, the weight of anticipation felt like almost too much to bear in the lead-up. You fidget nervously with your silk robe, which all at once feels too heavy and not thick enough, your skin prickling with the uncertainty of what is to pass.

You stay in the bedroom, brushing your hair at your vanity with repetitive calming motions as Benedict greets Anthony and invites him into your home. In advance, you and Benedict had agreed a few strong brandies would likely assist both men before embarking on this journey; you declined to imbibe in the hope it would aid with conception. So you sit nervously awaiting as they partake downstairs in your drawing room, no doubt.

For some reason, you prefer not to see Anthony before the ‘act’ begins; it feels too much like danger knowing what will happen, the ghost of your past attraction like a potential unwanted spectre taunting you. It feels safer to keep your distance until, well, until you cannot.

You get onto the bed and attempt to read, but your butterflies mean you are staring at the same page for minutes at a time, words just a jumble of letters that bleed into each other, your mind too preoccupied. Just as you start to fret about whether you can do this, you hear voices and a pair of heavy boots ascending the stairs.

Then there in the doorway are your husband and his brother, looking at you with the same expression you give them. Nervous apprehension, but theirs mellowed by alcohol.

“Darling,” Benedict drawls as they walk in, and he closes the door, “how are you?”

“I am fine,” you assure with a quick, tight smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes. The butterflies are truly rioting now.

Your gaze falls to Anthony, who flashes you a brusque smile before he peels off his jacket and rapidly moves onto his boots. It seems almost business-like, and there is a hot flare in your stomach. Benedict is already more casual, barefoot, just his white shirt and trousers; it's like he senses your spike of anxiety and is on the bed with you in the blink of an eye.

“It's okay, my darling,” he mollifies, pushing you gently down into the pillows, his breath sweetened by brandy and smoky from cigars, “I’m here, my love, I’m here.”

His kiss is gentle and pitched to reassure, his lips soft on yours, intuiting the need to settle your fears. It works, and as you always do, you find yourself melting into your husband's loving embrace and attention. His hands run delicate patterns over your thin robe.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he murmurs, a soft smile on his lips as he moves to kiss down your throat, his lips warm and plush as his words vibrate over your skin. He goes to untie your robe, but you halt his hand, covering it with your own.

“Please, Benedict, I need you naked before I am,” you plead quietly.

He lifts his head and meets your imploring gaze, nodding slightly, understanding your reasons without you needing to vocalise them. It's part of why you love him so much, this shorthand you have developed, this unspoken bond. You can't help the little flutter in your chest as he whips off his shirt and settles over you, so much body warmth seeping through your robe from his skin. As he kisses the cord of your neck, you sigh and allow your hands to wander, loving the feel of his toned flesh under your fingertips.

With him over and surrounding you, he is your whole field of vision, perhaps by design to centre your focus on him. In the background, you can hear the sounds of Anthony disrobing, but Benedict utters soft, reassuring words against your skin to drown out the sound. His warm lips feathering down over your collarbone, skirting the edge of your robe. As ever, his tender treatment makes you stir, and you feel your body become pliant under him, allowing him to ease between your legs, your robe falling open as his wool trousers tickle the inside of your knees.

“My darling, you smell wonderful. Did you bathe in your favourite magnolia petal soap?” his voice buzzes over your breastbone as he breathes deeply and smiles indulgently as you hum in the affirmative. “Your skin is so soft; I am such a lucky man.” you know he is being extra vocal and reassuring with his words and actions; it makes your heart melt a fraction. He wants you comfortable and aroused. He wants this to be pleasant for you. You would never have the heart to tell him his efforts are not perhaps as needed as he believes.

You cannot look at Anthony to this day without a tiny stab of desire, perhaps remnants of a theoretical scenario where he could have been your intended, at least in your mind. Or it could be that he is an objectively handsome man. Either way, the thought of laying with him is not abhorrent on a physical level; in fact, the genuine possibility of the opposite stokes the blaze of nerves in your belly—that you could enjoy it a little too much.

You reach down and begin unbuttoning Benedict's trousers, wanting, needing more, as he continues languid kisses on your exposed skin. This time you do not object as his fingers insinuate between your bodies and tug at the ties holding your robe closed.

You inhale sharply as his naked body surges over yours as he kicks away his trousers. So much heat and warmth as your thighs cradle him. You can feel his rigid cock searing the apex of your thighs, and more than anything, you want him to push into your body.

As his lips close on your left nipple, you moan and cant up towards him; you sense something else happening in the room. You realise, without looking; you have an audience. Anthony’s gaze feels heavy on your skin; you know he is watching as his brother's tongue peaks out and lathes over your nipple, watches as he sucks the nub into his mouth, and you cry out. Somehow the audience makes this more hedonistic. You want to feel ashamed at the throbbing between your legs, yet…. you don't; you just feel a molten desire. The idea of being the sole focus of two of the most handsome men of the ton does not escape your mind.

Somehow you know without looking that Anthony has taken his cock in hand and is ogling your body, just as Benedict's hand slides between your legs and glides over your folds.

“Are you ready for us, my love?” he asks softly. Part of you wants to lie, to ask him to dive his face between your legs and suck your clit until you are writhing and panting, but you know tonight is not about pleasure; it's a means to an end. And besides, he would know it's unnecessary as soon as his fingers slide between your lips, which they now do, and he hisses at the pooled, slick viscous heat he finds within. “Oh, darling, you are more than ready, aren't you? You are positively weeping from your gorgeous little cunt.”

You moan again at his words, almost surprised he is willing to talk like this in front of his brother, but you suspect it’s because he knows how much it arouses you. And indeed, you hear a noise from Anthony as you writhe on Benedict's fingers, wishing more than anything for him to sink them into your body and massage that spot you love so very much that only his fingers can reach.

“Please, fuck me,” you exhale, and it's a dangerous elixir thrumming in your bloodstream when there is a duet of responding groans to your breathy plea.

“I will, darling, I will,” he promises with an aching urgency, propelling one of his fingers into you and you crying out his name.

His fingertip massages that spot as his mouth is on your other breast, and you don't hide your enjoyment of what is happening. In truth, perhaps you are more performative, your whispered pleas just a little louder for Anthony’s benefit, your body flexing a little more pronounced; you almost want him to desire your body as much as your husband does. Sometimes playing with fire is such a beguilingly hypnotic idea.

“Make her climax, brother; I have heard it can help with conception,” Anthony’s smooth voice rings out, and you gasp, whipping your head to look at him for the first time since clothing was shed.

There’s a stab of what almost feels like betrayal as your eyes fall on Viscount Anthony Bridgerton—naked and imposing, standing as he does next to the bed. Unlike his brother, his chest is covered in a thatch of dark hair; his build is thicker and more muscular than your slightly taller, lither husband. Perhaps predictably, given their shared genetics, he is physically appealing too. You can tell by the motion of his arm he is stroking himself, but you daren't allow your eyes to wander lower than his taunt, defined abdomen, almost scared to see what lies between his legs. And yet curiosity wins out as he mounts the bed on all-fours, you glance down the plane of his torso and glimpse his cock nestling in a patch of dark hair, just like Benedict's, but it looks different. You can't deny that. A shade thicker, perhaps, just like their bodies. That you are comparing your husband's cock to his brothers fills you with a self-disdain you don't want to contemplate, so you quickly cut your eyes away. It matters not the pleasure he can provide during the act; what matters is the outcome: his seed, the hope of progeny.

“Here, let me help,” Anthony offers casually. And your breathing accelerates rapidly as suddenly he is next to you and his lips close around your other nipple, still wet with your husband's saliva.

A long, low curse slips from your mouth unsolicited as you experience the blinding pleasure of both nipples being sucked simultaneously.

Something burns white hot, not just desire but also shame. Shame that you want this so much. That your whole axis is thrown off by the equally talented tongue of Anthony Bridgerton swirling and sucking your nipple. But then he himself did just say female pleasure is paramount to conception. Who are you to deny yourself this pleasure if it is a means to the ultimate end? Your selfish, licentious side greedily courting all the attention they are willing to offer.

Benedict's finger curls more insistently inside you as a thumb lands on your clit, rubbing in an unfamiliar but alluring motion. It is not your husband’s. It does not have the same softness; there's a rasping quality to Anthony’s more pen-calloused skin that snags perfectly on your sensitive bud. Having the mouths and fingers of two Bridgerton brothers teasing you is overwhelming, but part of you feels overridden with guilt that you are deriving such pleasure from them both.

“It's alright, my love,” Benedict assures, sensing your emotional quandary, and it’s the license you need. Allow yourself to indulge in the sensation enough to be carried away by the sheer wonder of it all.

Within moments, a potent tide rips through your being as you writhe, surrounded by their bodies. Benedict surges up and captures your lips in a passionate, consuming kiss as you clench so hard on his finger and holler his name so loudly into his mouth. You don't dare speak his brother's name, but something makes your hand grasp Anthony's hair as he gently laps your breast.

Benedict eases himself from between your legs and arranges his body against your left flank as you calm. On instinct, still fuzzy from your orgasm, you turn your head towards him, seeking his lips for more kisses, sighing as he obliges, your nostrils filled with the scent of your own arousal on his damp fingers that cradle your jaw as his lips open gently with yours. His cock is branding your hip as he pulls your left leg towards him, opening you up, and your heartbeat spikes as you feel Anthony climb over your right leg and shuffle between your thighs.

“Benedict,” you gasp over his lips. He knows. He knows you are at your most vulnerable, and he clutches your face tight, keeps your gaze locked on his, his mouth hovering over yours.

“Shhh, my love,” he soothes, “you are doing so wonderful; you are my whole world; I love you so much,” his searing words pour into your soul as you feel Anthony’s body over yours.

Benedict holds your face, his grip almost vice-like, not letting you look away, to his brother, as arms band around your hips, and Anthony heaves you onto his thighs, your pelvis now higher than your head.

“Don't stop talking,” you plead into your husband's mouth as you feel the tip of Anthony’s cock at your entrance.

“I love you; I can't wait to raise a family with you, my darling,” he entreats. The mix of desire and hurt on his face breaks your heart as you cry out with the force of Anthony’s cock ploughing into you. It feels so different in a way you can't explain and want to weep, but you can't do that to your husband, hurt him like that. So you keep staring into his hazy eyes, breathing his exhaled air and familiar scent as Anthony starts to move inside you.

It feels so wondrous, your walls clinging to his thick veiny cock as you bite your lip to trap the sounds you want to make. There is no denying how utterly incredible Anthony feels inside you. He almost immediately hits a harsh snapping rhythm, making slight panting noises with the exertion. Benedict shuts his eyes and swallows heavily, and you know it's to school his emotions, yet you can't help but steal a glance up at his brother while he does so. Anthony looks so handsome and majestic, an errant curl of hair bouncing on his forehead as he throws his whole body into the thrusts. His skin glows dewy in the candlelight. His eyes meet yours, and a flame there startles so much that you swivel your eyes back to your husband’s as they reopen. Guilt makes you utter his name, each syllable rising and falling with the motion of your body as Anthony fucks you so hard.

“It's alright if you enjoy this, my darling,” Benedict affirms sotto voce, and it's like whiplash to your heart how giving this man is, how much he is sacrificing so you can have a family together. You know it must be eating him alive on some level to see the pleasure his brother is giving you.

“I only want to come if it's with you,” you whisper harshly.

“But you need to come, my darling; it will improve the chance of a baby,” he assuages.

You feel Anthony’s fingers at your clit, and you seize Benedict’s face. “Then talk to me, my love. Talk like it’s just us, say all those debauched things that make me burn so hot for you, just you,” you implore desperately.

Benedict growls and surges his rigid cock against your hip, leaking onto your dewy skin as his warm lips capture your cheekbone.

“I want you, my wife,” he intones through clenched teeth. “Every day, I want to strip you down and take you so hard.”

“Yesssssss,” you hiss, writhing on Anthony's cock, who groans and grips your hip bone hard. “More, please, more.”

Anthony’s fingers are a frenzy on your clit now as you keen loudly, urging him on; you unwittingly squeeze his muscular forearm.

“I know what makes you come so hard; only me, only I can do that. You are my wife, mine. Say it,” Benedict orders, his tone as desperate as yours, spying the way you have latched onto his brother, needing reassurance.

“I'm yours, Benedict, always, forever,” you cry, and it turns into a scream as Anthony starts to spear you so hard you want to see stars.

“I love you, my darling wife. You are going to be such a wonderful mother; I know how much you want that. To be a mother. To have a baby,” he murmurs, placing his forehead onto yours, “that is why we are doing this, my darling.”

"But Benedict, I only want your baby… Our baby…" you lament, raw with emotion, as you battle the sensations threatening to overwhelm you. Anthony's cock makes your eyes roll back in your head, and Benedict's words take you over a soft edge, your blood boiling in your veins for your husband and his brother. Your scream muffled into his jaw as your cunt flutters hard around Anthony.

“Fuckkkking hell, I'm going to come,” Anthony warns, and for the first time, you look away from Benedict, uncaring that he sees.

“Give it to me,” you growl at Anthony, “give me your seed Bridgerton; I love my husband more than life itself; give us our baby right now!”

Both men seem equally shocked and aroused by your voracious demand.

“Darling…” Benedict pants raggedly on your cheekbone, his leaking cock pressing rhythmically against you again as you wrap your arm possessively around his head, fingers tugging no doubt painfully on his hair as you stare Anthony down, urging him to come.

There is a long guttural noise as Anthony stills. You feel the warmth of his release bloom inside you as he slumps over your body. His head on your damp diaphragm, puffing hard breaths over your ticklish skin as he keeps jerking and pumping little aftershocks into you.

The act over; as much as Anthony is an attractive man, all you want, crave, need, and desire is your husband with every fibre of your being. Like a siren calling across an ocean, he is the only place you want to be wrecked.

“Benedict, now, please, please, I need you,” you turn to him and cry.

You rasp lightly as Anthony pulls out and slumps back breathlessly against the footboard of your bed as you almost drag your husband on top of you. You chant a litany of pleas as he fumbles to line up with your fluttering body. And your eyes well with emotion as he finally surges into you. The stretch of his cock is different but so familiar, mind-bending and heart-stopping.

Your mouths mash together in a frenzy, and you cling to Benedict, pleading with him for more and harder, uncaring of the audience you have. You think he won't last long, but you don't care—you crave his release more than your own. You just want to revel in the carnality of your husband’s body and of what you have just permitted to happen for each other, for love. You steal a glance at Anthony over Benedict’s shoulder, and the soft, understanding look he gives you fills you with unspoken gratitude that he agreed to do this, to help you in this amazing way.

Benedict is not gentle, and you are grateful for it, conveying all of his passion for you with firm hands grasping your flesh, destined to leave imprints, teeth grazing your neck, thrusting into you with no mercy. You were mistaken, though - he does last. Keeps pounding into your body over and over and over as you make needy noises with each movement, climbing higher again.

“Come for me, husband, please; I need to feel it,” you beg, clasping his bum encouragingly, kissing every inch of skin you can reach, dragging your nipples over his chest, greedily pursuing your satisfaction as well as his.

“Tell me you love me,” he demands, sweat dripping from his forehead onto yours, his eyes burning into yours.

“I love you; you know I love you,” your response is a reflex. And that is what causes the dam to break for him, his whole body jerking violently, hissing and groaning loud against your ear as he spills inside you, fingers flexing, nails leaving moon-shaped marks on your shoulders where his arms curl under around them. The visceral feel of him coming apart, his body smashing against your clit takes you over too. Eyes fluttering closed as your body clenches in waves around his spasming cock.

And as you lay there sharing ragged breaths, Anthony’s warm hand encircles your ankle, and your eyes meet again in a moment of connection that feels warm and profound; you hope beyond hope a baby was conceived tonight.

——

Nine months later.

The birth of your baby is the most harrowing but rewarding day of your life. As you hear the infant’s first cry, your whole world crumbles and is rebuilt around her. Your precious, precious gift.

Benedict’s embrace is so tight as you cradle new life in your arms, scarcely believing the truth. Then a tiny set of eyes blink open, and your heart soars to heights you never dreamed possible.

“Benedict,” you breathe, joyful tears flowing unabashed, “look… she has… she has your eyes,” your whisper tremulant.

There, unmistakable as anything, is his baby. Not Anthony’s, not just a Bridgerton baby. His. Benedict’s.

“I don't think she can be anyone’s but yours, my love,” you assure ardently.

His fervent kiss on your dewy brow is only made wetter by the gentle tears that roll down his cheek and onto your skin.

“I love you,” he whispers reverently, his large hand wrapping delicately around your swaddled baby. “I love our daughter. We are finally a family.”

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