#chains of heart colours

[dribs-and-drabbles]

Hej y'all notice that both Din and Ken's first time and Lue and Ken's first time were very similar?

The front carry and spin around! The purple lighting! One wearing a dark blue shirt and one bare-chested! (ok Lue was full on naked but we didn't see alllllll of that) And they ended lying the same way!

Absolutely delightful.

[catacosmo]

Sora but Chain of Memories style~

[sanitizarium]

i ljke him *THROWS HIM AGAINST A WALL*

[xmushy-gushyx]

My boyfriend bought me the prettiest collar ever yesterday and it's so fucking embarrassing to wear<3<3<3<3

I'm never taking it off ❤️

[milf-harrington]

AW YEAH I JUST FIGURED OUT THE PERFECT EARRINGS TO MAKE FOR MY BIRTHDAY

[fruityuncleskeletor]

My friends, foes and not yet friends, BUILD IS BACK!

[sierra-077]

"A Fox at the End of it All"

[hesperidia]

they massacred my boy.. (saw Mika's new casual fit)

[dribs-and-drabbles]

Chains of Heart ep 10

So that was...disappointing. I'm generally not one to not finish things that I've started, so I'll do this anyway, but it's not satisfying.

I guess the main thing to say is that, despite the...open?...ending, the show at least stuck with the design elements already set up from the beginning.

Since this ep was focussed mainly on Lue/Din and his revenge again, the main featured colours were Lue's red and Din's green.

This is seen straight off with Lue/Din walking into his family home.

And meeting his mother (both also have some of Ken's blue).

Sai also has green and red in her top (with the green scarf used to cover her eyes).

And then Deedee brings more of the red/green combination as he did in ep 9.

In the end, Red Lue got his revenge and which literally bled out from the man he was so hellbent on taking down. Ironically, the moment happened in a place surrounded by Din's green.

Even the information to take everyone down was stored on a red usb.

And as if we didn't need the reminder/confirmation, the dodgy doc shows where his true allegiance lies in Ken's blue and Din's green.

I was happy that I was right about Don being good/working with Din/Lue (Poppy can do no wrong!).

And I was also right in my prediction that the below was going to be Lue/Din looking down at a dead or dying Ingpha... It's a hollow victory though because the moment was so heart-wrenching. In some ways, it might have been more satisfying for Ingpha to have stayed alive and be given life imprisonment like his sister.

And speaking of unsatisfying... I kept waiting for Lue/Din to show up at the end -> with Ken being in Din's green under the red flowers, and at the green and red temple, and on the circle of green and red tiles. WHERE WAS HE?!

But wait! There was an extra scene after the credits! Ken is in Lue's burgundy red, entering the airport through doors with a green stripe, passing a sign with blue and red...

...and checking in for a flight with a red airline and stood by a PURPLE barrier (which was symbolic for Ken and Din/Lue's love)...

...aaaaaaaaand then NOTHING.

So... DAMMIT... we can glean that Ken is off to Sai's wedding on the 7th of July and that he will most likely see Din/Lue again...but whether he'll still be Lue or be back as Din, we can only guess.

I DIDN'T WANT TO GUESS, DAMMIT, I WANTED TO SEEEEEEEE IT.

[ep 1] [ep 2] [ep 3] [ep 4] [ep 5] [ep 6] [ep 7] [ep 8] [ep 9] [ep 10]

[catacosmo]

play chain of memories

[sneefsnorf]

almost bought this awesome leather harness but i know my parents would kill me for it. one day. one day ill look sooooo sexy.

[imthebadguyyy]

the bridgerton blues

pairing : anthony bridgerton x reader

fandom : bridgerton

synopsis : it's the first time after your wedding that anthony sees you sporting the signature bridgerton colour : blue, and it does things to him that he can only express in a much more....physical manner.

warnings : smut, heavy smut and excessive amount of fluff

a/n : i miss my grumpy viscount!!! happy reading :)

anthony huffed impatiently, foot tapping against the marble floor at bridgerton manor.

the season had begun again, and much to his relief, he would only be a spectator this year, having married the love of his life, lady, well, current viscountess y/n, which meant he didn't have to deal with the frills and fancies of the hawk like mama's in the ton, awaiting the right moment to swoop upon him with their daughters.

but by God, you were taking forever to get dressed and come down to leave for lady danbury's ball. beside him, benedict and colin sat, engrossed in a game of chess, while francesca and eloise lounged on the couch in the drawing room, catching up about life.

his mother was with his darling wife, much to his surprise, helping her get ready for a ball. he had been caught off guard when his mother had bustled in, dressed in a powdery blue gown, and had proceeded to shoo him out of the room.

"what exactly is keeping mama and y/n?" colin asked, brow furrowed in concentration as he focused on the chess board.

"if I knew I would tell you brother" anthony mumbled, checking the watch that hung on the golden chain from his waistcoat, smiling as he traced the cover, suddenly hit by a burst of nostalgia, and a surge of fondness for his late father.

he brushed it off when a giggling hyacinth came running down the staircase, leaping into his arms, forcing him to rush to catch her, eyes widening in surprise.

"hyacinth! you must always give me a prior warning or I may not be able to catch you" he chided, tucking a stray curl behind her ear and setting her gently on the ground.

"brother!! wait till you see y/n/n!! she looks like a princess!" his youngest sister exclaimed, almost vibrating with excitement. a shy gregory emerged, blushing a little as he nodded, making the three older bridgerton boys smirk, well aware of his little crush on anthony's wife.

when anthony had first befriended his wife, they had been at a mere age of ten, and anthony had rescued y/n when she had fallen off her horse at a picnic with his family and the cowper's.

ever since then, they had been inseparable, joint at the hip and at the heart.

it was of no surprise to anyone in the ton when finally, ages later, he had announced he was marrying the lady montgomery, or as everyone fondly knew her, "y/n/n"

"why so bashful greg?" benedict jested, watching his youngest brother turn a dark crimson.

"n-nothing" he stuttered out, darting in to see his sisters.

"it's because of y/n! I'm telling you brother, she looks like an absolute angel!" hyacinth chirped in, now bouncing about from step to step, just as the door of Anthony's room creaked open, and the dowager viscountess stepped out.

"she's ready" she smiled warmly at her son's, hurrying in to get her daughters to mark the momentous occasion.

brows furrowed, the eyes of the bridgertons rested upon the long winding staircase, awaiting to see what exactly was this magical outfit that had their mother and sister gushing like birds.

and what anthony saw, made his jaw drop to the very ground.

at the very top, his darling wife came into view, hair in sleek, meticulous curls, perfectly cast up in an intricate updo, adorned with pearls, framing her face with the delicate curls. her makeup was subtle, emphasizing her flowing complexion with a touch of rosy blush and wine coloured lips.

she adorned a pearl necklace and matching earrings, gifted to her by anthony himself, adding a timeless elegance to her stature.

but what really caught everyones attention was the dress that she wore, more specifically, the colour of the dress she wore.

a rich dark blue silk gown, carefully tailored, hugged her frame, showcasing the intricate details that add to its allure. the bodice, adorned with delicate embroidery, depicting subtle butterfly motifs that caught the light as the she moved down the stairs. the neckline gracefully framed her collarbone, delicate lace butterflies attached to the neckline,while the sleeves tapered down to her wrists, showcasing more of the exquisite lacework that adorned her body.

the skirt of the gown was a masterpiece of craftsmanship, flowing generously in layers of silk that rustled with each step. the deep, rich hue of the fabric evoked a sense of opulence, reminiscent of midnight skies. as she walked down, the silk caught the light, casting a mesmerizing play of shadows and highlights.

the dress matched anthony's waistcoat perfectly, and the sight was enough to make the viscount choke over nothing.

as he saw his wife adorned in the resplendent dress for the first time, his eyes widened with genuine admiration.

a hushed gasp escaped his parted lips as he took in the sight before him.

his wife, cloaked in the elegance of the dark blue gown, the bridgerton blues appeared to be like a living portrait of timeless beauty.

a warm smile formed on his lips, expressing both surprise and deep appreciation for the grace and sophistication she was emanating.

"my darling" he murmured as he swept forward, extending his arm to welcome you into them.

smiling sweetly at the bridgerton clan, you floated down, linking your arm with anthony's.

"sister, you look utterly perfect in blue!" benedict exclaimed, pressing a delicate kiss to your hand, as violet fondly caressed your cheek.

"doesn't she look like a princess brother?!" hyacinth squealed, looking excitedly at anthony. "just like one out of the fairytales" he said, looking at you with nothing but admiration and love and fondness.

"you really do look utterly regal" colin said, flashing a warm smile at you. eloise and francesca came upto you, with even eloise admitting that the dress you were wearing was nothing short of a work of art, while francesca gushed over how the silhouette was so perfect for you.

"alright, we must leave if we want to reach lady danbury's ball on time!" violet said, clapping her hands, leading her children out to where the carriages awaited.

"wait behind for just a second my love" anthony whispered into your ear, as he walked up to his valet to whisper something into his ear.

slowly, the other bridgertons departed, after you promised them to join them very soon, ignoring the smirks and nudges colin and benedict sent your way.

anthony pulled you into his study, hand gently caressing your waist, feeling the rich silk in his hands, the other hand gently reaching for your chin, lifting it to look into your eyes.

"you look utterly divine my beloved" he whispered fingers gently fondling your face, eyes absorbing every detail of your face, not that he hadn't already memorised it.

"thank you my dear" you whispered back, hands settling on his broad shoulders, taking in his waistcoat as well, the dark blue velvet clinging to every rippling muscle in his body, brass buttons complementing the coat.

"i always knew you'd look stunning in bridgerton blue but....it seems as though the bridgerton blue was crafted for you" he murmured, tightening his grip on your waist, "so stunning that infact, i do not feel the need to leave for lady danbury's ball, for I'd much rather stay here with my breathtakingly beautiful wife" he murmured again, lips ghosting over your own as his hands squeezed your waist, drawing you flush against his body.

"my lord, we cannot... we must be present at the first ball of the season" you lamely protested, heart hammering against your chest as the intoxicating scent of his musky, woodsy cologne filled your nostrils.

anthony dropped his lips to your neck, lips brushing a feather soft kiss to the sensitive skin, drawing a gasp from you.

"what if we do not go? what if we just stay here and...i worship my wife in the way she deserves? like the goddess she is?" he asked, like gently pressing kisses down to your collarbone, still as light as a feather, just enough to ignite something feral in you, but also enough to keep you wanting more.

"my lord it's the first ball of the season, and we have to-"

you were cut off by anthony's lips pressing against yours.

they were soft and plush against yours, pressing perfectly like a jigsaw puzzle, initiating a warm glow in the pit of your tummy.

as your lips met, the sensation was like a feather's gentle caress — soft, fleeting, and subtly warm. it feels like a delicate dance, a tender exploration that sparked a gentle flutter within you. the touch was akin to the brush of downy feathers, teasing and inviting, as if he was testing the waters of intimacy.

yet, as the moment unfolded, a magnetic pull takes hold, drawing you deeper into the realm of passion. the softness transforms, gradually intensifying into a fiery connection. the initial delicacy gave way to a fervent exchange, each kiss building upon the other with a growing hunger.

your lips, once feather-light, were now engaged in a rhythmic and passionate dance. the subtle warmth amplified into a blazing fire, and what began as a gentle exploration evolved into a fervent expression of desire.

the world around you faded and in that heightened connection, every kiss becomes an electric charge, a testament to the undeniable chemistry between your two souls entwined in the artistry of passion.

anthony's hands ran rampant on your body, clutching every part of your body through the silk dress, yet taking care to not scrunch the silk in anyway.

"you have no idea what you do me darling" he growled against your lips, drawing back for just a moment to watch your chest heave and eyes glaze over, hands clutching his coat and cravat so tight he feared you would rip it off.

"every breath you take, every word you speak, the very sound of your melodious voice and the very beat of your heart, all allure me to you, draw me to you like a moth to a flame" he continued, his own heart hammering against his chest.

his chest rose and fell with every word, eyes ablaze with burning passion. "every second of every day, i crave you, i long for you, i need you, and it drives me feral. but the sight of you in my colour makes me want to rip off that very dress off your body, claiming you as mine in more ways than one" he growled, hands scrunching the material on your behind.

"anthony..i crave you every second of the day as well. i need you" you whispered, a soft whimper slipping past your lips.

"hush my sweet darling" he said, sending you a saccharine sweet smile.

then, much to your chagrin, he took his hands off your waist, fixing the material and fixing his own coat.

"now, we must hasten to lady danbury's" he smirked" and you groaned, a painful throbbing between your legs becoming more prominent.

"but my lord-" you protested, only to be cut off by another searing kiss. he kissed you deep and long, and then drew back, pushing a stray curl on your forehead back behind your ear.

"our family awaits dearest" he smiled, and gently led you out to the hall.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

the grand ballroom at lady danbury's unfolded into a dazzling spectacle as it embraced the opulence of a gold and maroon theme. golden hues enveloped the space, casting a warm, regal glow. glittering chandeliers, adorned with intricate gold details, hung from the ceiling, their crystals refracting light in a dance of elegance.

luxurious maroon fabrics draped the walls, creating a sumptuous backdrop that added depth to the golden ambiance. tables adorned with golden tablecloths and maroon accents contributed to the harmonious blend of colors. golden candle holders flickered with the soft glow of candles, casting a gentle radiance on the rich maroon floral centerpieces.

the women's dresses shimmered with embellishments, and the men's attire featured accents, creating a visual symphony of sophistication, into which you walked with anthony, arms interlaced, as you bowed before queen charlotte, who had taken quite a liking to you.

"it's lovely to see the bridgertons led by a couple as magnanimous as you" she bestowed a rare compliment, bringing a hot flush to your cheeks and even to anthony's pale visage. "but now we anxiously await the news of a young bridgerton" she said pointedly, and you kept your eyes low, trying to ignore the heat blooming in your cheek.

around you, guests were engaged in a dance, the dance floor became a stage for a waltz of colors, with the many colours and tones reflecting in the mirrored walls. the orchestra, bathed in the warm ambiance, played melodies that echoed the richness of the color palette.

you noticed simon and daphne dancing, looking fondly at each other, and saw colin sharing a dance with young penelope featherington, which made you smile, always having harbored a soft spot for the girl.

you spotted eloise by the food table, with francesca, both enjoying the strawberries that were being served. benedict seemed engrossed in exploring the rich collection of paintings in the hall, and was surrounded by a group of friends.

anthony led you over to his sisters, a soft kiss to your wrist a promise to be back in a moment lingering on his lips, as he was dragged off by countless lords for a drink and a conversation about the next round of a hunt they were engaging in.

as eloise began to speak about the many cruelties of lady featherington, you spotted cressida cowper scowling over at the two of you, dressed in a pink so bright you felt momentarily blinded. she shot a contemptuous look at you, scoffing at your gown and sharing a laugh with lady cowper, that had your eyebrow creasing with insecurity.

much to your horror, she began to march over to you, along with her mother and lady featherington, much to your dismay. you searched desperately for your mother-in-law, but found her engrossed in conversation with the queen.

"my my, if it isn't the happy bridgertons" cressida sniped, flashing you a tight lipped smile. "hello miss cowper" you smiled, ignoring the anxiety bubbling in your tummy.

"cressida" eloise said coldly, linking her arm with yours. she was well aware of the contemptuous rumours she had spread about you when you had begun courting anthony and had made it her mission to protect you from her.

"what a rather unusual colour for you dear" lady cowper commented, eyes trailing down your body in disdain.

"it gives you the impression of being a little washed out" she stated, opening her fan to hide her smirk.

you ignored the tear that sprang to your eyes as she continued to comment, on the fall of the dress, the shape of the silhouette and the way your jewellery was far too showy.

you could feel eloise glowering beside you but silently begged her to keep calm, not wanting to lose her calm in front of everyone.

to your surprise, a familiar baritone cut in, a nd a strong arm wrapped around your midriff and waist.

your husband appeared beside you, a smile on his face that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"i see why you might think that, lady cowper, for all you can pull off is that rather obnoxious shade of viscous pink, and while i understand your envy at my wife's ability to outshine everyone else here in any colour she chooses, i must remind you are speaking to the viscountess bridgerton, and hence must adhere to the degree respect she commands" he stated coolly, hand gripping your waist so tight you were sure it would leave marks.

stunned speechless, the cowper's backed away, egos more than bruised and enraged , subject to sniggers and chuckles from the other lords and ladies in the room. your brother walked to anthony from across the hall, patting him on the back and whispering a "good man" to him as he hugged you, and eloise drew anthony into a hug as well.

anthony led the two of you over to his mama, who couldn't hide a smile herself at the love her son had for his wife, so reminiscent of the way their father had loved her.

"I am sorry if I caused humiliation to your name mama, but I cannot and will not let anyone talk to my wife that way" he said firmly, only to be cut off by his mother.

"I believe everyone here has been waiting to say that to miss cowper since the beginning of time, my darling, so take your wife and go home. you have done your job and proved your love and passion and told everyone that your relationship rhymes true" she said, drawing you into a warm hug and bidding you goodbye.

the carriage ride home was silent as your held anthony's hand tight, his thumb tracing patterns over the gloves you were donning, a pearly white to match your jewels.

"thank you my love" you whispered to him, eyes glimmering with unshed tears.

"my darling, i love you, all of you. please do not ever belittle yourself, because your beauty is awe worthy" he said, eyes contorted as if he was in pain at the thought of you being in pain.

"I'll try my best not to" you whispered against, leaning forward to press your foreheads together. and you stayed like that till bridgerton manor came into view.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

frenzied kisses were pressed against your lips as anthony lifted you into his arms, earning a singular gasp from your lips. his hands, one wrapped tightly under your bottom and the other around your back was strong, as you wrapped your legs around his waist and he led you upstairs, ignoring the scurrying valet and maids and your ladies in waiting as he made it to your shared bedroom.

he dropped you gently on the bed, towering above you, hands shoving the material of your dress up. his hands crept along your thighs stealthily, finding the hooks of your stockings to your thigh garter, slowly dragging it down, exposing your bare skin to him, suppressing a groan at the soft skin.

to his surprise you reached up and grabbed him by the cravat, untying it and pulling him down to meet your lips. you kissed him roughly, a frenzied battle, with teeth and tongue clashing as he shrugged off his waist coat and began to unbutton his shirt, watching as you removed your jewellery and kept in on the table beside his bed.

his hands reached for your dress, carefully untying the many laces and unbuttoning the many buttons on your dress, watching as your bosom heaved in the corset wore.

deft fingers unhooked the corset without a struggle, and you moaned when the cold air hit your nipples, making them harden, as you pushed your chest out towards him.

anthony growled, the sound reverberating in his throat as he reached down to unbutton his tan pants, leaving him in just his underwear. his lips attacked your neck, biting into the delicate flesh and pressing kiss after kiss, sucking deep marks and hickies that were sure to stay for days after.

you raked your nails up and down his neck, stroking the skin there and raking your hands upto his hair, gently scratching his scalp as he trailed kisses down to your breasts.

his mouth enveloped your nipple in his mouth, tongue flicking and swirling around the sensitive nub.

he continued his ministrations, taking only a moment to move his mouth to your other breast and leaving lovebites on the skin.

he settled in between your thoughts, hips gently grinding into yours, as he licked and sucked to his heart’s desire, attempting to alleviate the growing tent in his pants.

you were beginning to pant, and he continued to pinch and stroke your nipple. his tongue wreaked havoc on one while his fingers gently tugged on the other. anthony could not wait any longer, the pain of the straining in his pants making him more loopy than he would admit, and he pulled away from your breast, a string of saliva from his lips to your breast.

he came back up to your mouth, kissing you with desperation. "i adore you" he painted above you, before kissing down your tummy to your thighs.

he stopped at the junction between your thighs, inhaling the musk of your scent.  

he reached for the cotton underwear you had on, gently pulling it down, and pushing your thighs apart, and a wave of cold air floated across your inner thighs, so open and exposed now.

anthony began to press hot, open mouthed kisses to the bare expanse of your thighs, stopping just below your pussy lips each time.

mere moments later, you felt an entirely new sensation— anthony's wet, warm tongue sliding through your folds. a cry of pleasure ripped from your throat, as you looked down at anthony, who had crawled between your legs with his tongue buried at the apex of your thighs.

your slick dripped down your pussy lips, costing them in your honey, and anthony licked it all up as if it was nectar and ambrosia, lowering his face to lick a long strip through your entire slit, before tilting his face even deeper into your pussy, swirling around up to your engorged clit and licking all around it and on the top of it.

the action had your hips jolting as he sucked on the nub, causing flashes of white to flash before your eyes.

"you taste more delightful than i could ever have imagined" he breathed licking the sour-sweet liquid off his lips. "my own precious honey pot" he cooed, making you flush again and your body heated up.

he sucked harder on your clit, fingers slipping into your slit to slide up and down, each stroking made your hips flail wildly.

“you taste so sweet” he murmurs, and the brush of his breath sears against your skin. the low rumbling of his voice, so characteristic of him, are dripped in hunger and arousal, the heat spreading under your skin and threatening to explode like a supernova.

"i have longed to have you squirming on my tongue my love. i will have you screaming my name until your lips know no other" he promised.

with a ravenous look at your heaving form, anthony lowered his mouth to your throbbing center again and licked a bold stripe up your clit, the sensitive bud jolting in shock and you scream in pleasure,

the ever composed lord bridgerton moans against your cunt when you tug his hair, hands holding down your hips as he watches you squirm. then anthony rolls your clit with his teeth and you come apart with a scream, hands gripping onto his hair for dear life.

you come, cunt clenching down, spasming around his tongue where he has you stretched open. everything else disappears for a moment, your body weightless with pure unadulterated bliss.

anthony shifts so he is in between your legs again, watching the fluttering of your pussy as you clench around nothing. your eyes are trained on his hips and he feels a surge of pride.

his cock was one not only of great size but of greater girth and greater skill, and he adored nothing more than watching your eyes become as large as saucers as you looked at his poor cock straining again as it had been ever since he saw you in his signature colour.

trained hands guided his cock to your entrance, tapping against it for a few seconds before he dragged the tip through your slick, making your body shudder at the stimulation. and then, he pressed a kiss to your neck, hips slamming against yours.

the first thrust was deep and claiming,and you cried out at the perfect stretch of him in your pussy.

you could barely think straight, hands digging into his back and nails sinking into his skin.

"so fucking perfect,” he murmured into your ear, rasped and breathless as he nipped on your ear. "'feel so good wrapped around my cock. so wet and warm for me my sweet sweet beloved. fuck, you're so tight right now. squeezing me so well, you love my cock, do you not my angel?"

"yes yes i love you and your cock" you changed as a prayer, eyes bashful at the use of the dirty word. "look at how your cunt clenches around me" he groaned, head dipping into the crook of your neck as his hips slammed into yours repeatedly.

you could hear the headboard banging against the wall as the pace of anthony's thrusts had your body sliding against the silken sheets.

and then he stopped

he stayed there, buried inside you to the hilt, and his cock twitched excitedly inside you. you watched the way he gripped the bedsheets tightly with his fingers until they went hite. it sent heat and pleasure into the pit of your stomach and you were sure you are going to burn. it was far too good, far too much, brimming on the edge of being overwhelming. 

there’s no warning as he pulled out, leaving his pulsing tip in, and then he thrusted all the way back inside, in one long and slick stroke back inside you, deep and rough. his cock slammed into a spot in you that has you screaming, something absolutely fucking delicious and it steals away your breath and makes you cry out. 

and then he grabs your legs, pushing them up towards your legs as he almost folded you in half, pushing your legs so far apart they almost touched your head, as he moved to his knees for a better angle.

his hips thrusted wildly as he kept fucking you, hand rubbing furiously at your sensitive clit, as you whined and moaned and screamed. he watched as your cunt, pink and perfect fluttered and twitched, and his ears revelled at the sound of the filthy, wet squelching that echoed in the room from your dripping cunt.

he landed a harsh smack to the back of your thigh that had you screaming as he then pressed his tongue to it, sucking a hickey on the spot.

sweat dripped down his forehead and yours, as you began to thrust your hips up to meet his perfect strokes, while feeling like his cock was going to split you apart.

"i want nothing more than to fill you with my seed" he growled, over the sound of your skin slapping together over and over again.

"fill me with your seed my lord. let me have carry your kin" you murmured, and you watched as anthony groaned, hand wrapping around your throat.

"such a minx" he grinned, squeezing and watching your eyes roll back.

without a warning, he flipped you over so you were on top, and his deft hands steadied you at the waist.

then he began to slowly pick your hips up, working you up and down on his cock, slamming you up and down on his cock, until you got the hang of it.

anthony felt himself drooling as he took in the way your tits bounced and you bounced on his cock as you ride him, nails now scratching down his chest as he laid a harsh spank to your ass that had you clenching on his cock harder.

he watched your body desperately ride him for all he was worth, thighs jiggling as they clapped against his own, and he pinched the fat around your waist and belly, teeth nipping at your nipple to increase the stimulation.

"m-my lord! I am going to cum!" you moaned loudly, only to turn to a wail as anthony's fingers unleashed a furious assault on your clit, as he rubbed it up and down and side to side and everywhere, covering his fingers in your slick.

with a scream of his name, you came all over his dick and his tummy, your juices spilling out of you like a fountain, watching as he scooped it up with his fingers to lick it clean.

he slammed your hips down on his even harder as you whined, and you felt his stomach tense and breathing stutter as he came, shooting his load inside you, and finally sinking into the pillow, limp.

panting, you rolled off of him, mind cockdrunk and unable to move. anthony peppered kisses to your skin and kissed the spots where he'd been rough.

"you were phenomenal, my love" he whispered, and to your intrigue, his fingers trialed down to your cunt.

you watched as he gently slid a finger in to your hole, shushing and kissing you as he blocked it with his fingers.

"i cannot have a single drop of me spilling out of you" he murmured and you moaned.

"i adore you", he mumbled, "my dear wife" he concluded.

"and i adore you, my dear husband" you smiled, meeting his lips in a sugar sweet kiss.

who would've known that wearing the bridgerton blue was all it would take for you and anthony to announce to the ton in the next three months that you were expecting the first bridgerton heir?

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n : I've missed writing for bridgerton so much!! i really hope you enjoy this, and as always likes reblogs comments opinions etc are appreciated!! sending u all love and happiness and remember, my inbox is always open and i love making new friends!! happy reading ☺️♥️

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[cute-little-crow]

A seemingly innocent text message leads to a chain of events that turns your entire day upside down… who could have anticipated that?

Hey baby… I’m having the worst day at work. Everyone is really grouchy and I’m struggling to concentrate. Really wish I didn’t have to put up with this today. Sorry for being a downer, I hope your day is going better than mine!! Love you 💞

feat: Rafayel, Sylus, Xavier & Zayne (separately)

tw: female reader, fluff, suggestive, roleplay of kidnap (reader is in no danger), mentions of bomb threats (not genuine and not condoned in the slightest), bratty behaviour (mostly Raf), faked medical emergencies, sorry if I missed anything, Zayne being the most rational of the bunch (obvs)

an: I’d be happy to flesh out and expand any of these if there is interest (especially Xavier’s cause his was real fun 😏) 💖

His phone pinged from across the studio, a sound he could never ignore, especially when it was the tone he used only for you…

With a paintbrush tucked behind his ear, he leapt gracefully from his stool and wiped the dusty remnants of dried paint from his fingers onto his trousers. The white shirt messily—although he might say, artistically—tucked into the waistband was already streaked with the hue of colours making up his latest creation, and a purple smudge darkened the tip of his nose.

Rafayel smiled when your name emblazoned across the screen, but it faltered as he hastily scanned the neat little rows of text. He was full-blown frowning by the time he finished, mood darkened by the idea that there were people in the world that could allow you to feel so badly.

Didn’t they know you were better than they were? That you hung the moon and the stars. Made the tides rise and fall. Without you, their world would be devoid of colour—how mundane.

He wouldn’t stand for it, he couldn’t.

For the next thirty minutes he planned out his strategy. Scribbling ideas down only to angrily score them through when he realised how ridiculous they were. He needed something simple, and most importantly, believable.

A sudden idea popped into his head and he set off before he could change his mind… poor, poor you.

~

You wish you had been exaggerating when you sent off that earlier message, but today truly had been a total clusterfuck. It was barely noon and already you longed for the clutches of sleep that would come when you were tucked up in bed tonight.

The sour mood of your colleagues was rubbing off on you more than you would like, and the dark cloud of negative energy only grew bigger and more dense until it was impossible to see an inch in front of your nose.

Tapping your pen against the edge of your keyboard, you stared where the words should be occupying your screen. A blank document stared back—mocking you. With a frustrated growl, you sank forward with your head on your arms.

“Oh, there you are! Why are you still here?”

The frantic voice of your boss took you by surprise, peering up before jolting upright in your chair.

“Where else would I be?” You asked tentatively, mentally wondering if you had somehow missed a meeting.

“The hospital!! Your boyfriend is in reception bleeding all over the desk! He’s refusing an ambulance and says he’ll only go to the hospital if you take him. Come on, hurry!”

Panic froze your heart. Terror turning your blood to ice in your veins.

Rafayel came into view and immediately, you knew. You were going to kill your dumbass boyfriend for pulling such a ludicrous stunt. What was he thinking and why couldn’t anyone else smell the overwhelming scent of strawberries from the syrup he was claiming was blood?

“My love… at last. I don’t know that I can hold on much longer, please, take my hands,” he enthused, rivalling the most hammiest of actors.

Your lips pursed, and his eyes widened. Despite it all, you played along if only to get the security guard and receptionist to calm down. Taking his sticky strawberry fingers into yours, you cooed in your best impression of genuine concern.

“I can’t believe you didn’t go straight to the hospital, Rafayel. You might have bled out in my office reception, let’s get you out of here. Does it hurt? No, no… I’ll manage,” you reassured the ashen looking security guard whilst squeezing Rafayel’s fingers in a death grip.

He squeaked out a groan of genuine pain, but he deserved it for causing such a scene at your workplace. His bottom lip stuck out in a petulant pout that was only visible to you, corralling him along until you were in the staff car park and able to shove him bodily into the passenger seat.

You kept up the pretence until you were out of sight of the building and any security cameras before pulling over into a side street and cutting the engine without saying a word.

“I was—”

“Trying to get me fired?” you supplied, turning in your seat and pulling wet wipes out of the glovebox by the fistful.

Rafayel continued to look petulant, but the sticky mess smeared on his cheek and neck as well as covering both his hands and the cuffs of his shirt were too ridiculous for you to stay mad.

You giggled, and he side eyed you—cautiously. “You look… good enough to eat, baby. Smell good too.” Leaning close, you licked through the mess of syrup streaked over his hammering pulse point and heard his breathless little hiccup.

“It wasn’t my best plan ever, but it got you out of work, right?”

It was hard to argue with that. You conceded with a nod, starting the engine once more and peeling back into traffic.

“Mhm, true, and you brought me dessert. It’s a good thing that strawberry tarts are my favourite.”

Sylus welcomed the distraction of his phone vibrating from the pocket of his trousers. He had spent the better part of his morning listening to those with more money than sense, bumble through negotiations he had no intention of seeing through to fruition. But even so, he liked to dangle the carrot and see how high he could make them jump. Call it an entertainment of sorts.

“This meeting is over,” he intoned flatly, quickly rereading your message a second time whilst his frustration tried valiantly to leak outward.

The room emptied hastily—much to everyone’s relief—and once alone with his thoughts, Sylus let out a long aggravated sigh. His nostrils flared. His fingers drummed a war song against the enamel of his desk.

He supported your independence with his whole heart but there were times, like these, that he wished you would simply quit and join him in running his growing empire. Whilst he understood your reservations, and he certainly knew that he would be rather indulgent with your time if you worked side by side, he was not purely driven by his dick—only sometimes.

“Luke. Kieran. Get in here,” he called out.

Mere seconds later the brothers appeared, inquisitive though it might be hard for some to tell given the masks. Sylus leant back in his chair, debating his course of action and whether or not you might just explode when he pulled the trigger, metaphorically speaking.

“Yes Boss?” The brothers said in almost perfect unison, mischief evident in their voices.

“I need a favour, and I want you to make it convincing…”

~

This meeting was akin to listening to nails being scoured down a chalkboard, and that was about the most polite way you could put it.

You chewed on the end of your pen, anything to distract from the presentation being blasted at you from the large projector screen on the conference wall. Around you sat your colleagues and superiors, most looking equally bored, although a few opted to sit straight backed and bright eyed—the kiss asses—as you referred to them.

The hands of your watch seemed to move at half speed and you couldn’t believe there was another full hour ahead before you could find some solace during your lunch break.

An alarm pierced through the monotonous voice of the presenter on screen, you and your colleagues glanced around in confusion as it sounded unlike any fire alarm you had been present for. You sat up in your seat, twisting around to see people scurrying past the frosted glass windows until someone crashed into the door as if they had run flat out to get here.

“We’ve received a report that there’s a bomb in the building! Everyone out. Now! Don’t be stupid,” the man who you assumed was a part of security yelled at the nearest girl who had asked to go back to her desk to grab her bag. “Exit quickly and calmly. Don’t go back for anything!”

For someone advocating calmness, he sprinted away looking the absolute contrary to his guidance, but you didn’t have time to muse on it when everyone started to push and shove out of the doorway.

It wasn’t long before the panic and hushed conversations behind hands from the meeting point nearly a block away died down to be replaced by angry tuts and speculation over what might have happened.

There was a growing sense that the call had been a hoax which put nobody in a good mood, and you couldn’t blame them. Your car keys were back at your desk so you didn’t even have the option to leave.

Thankfully, you had your phone and whilst you had been scrolling social media—which was blowing up with the bomb threat news—a message popped up…

Need a ride, kitten?

You glanced around, eyes narrowed for the telltale flash of crimson but found none.

Maybe I do… maybe I don’t. Y’know, I’m surprised you’re not more concerned.

Concerned? Why should I be concerned? There’s no bomb. Keep walking this way, sweetie, you’re getting warmer.

You stopped in your tracks, mind whirring with the implication of his words. He didn’t… he wouldn’t. Fuck, he absolutely would.

Did you call in a fucking bomb threat?! You’re insane!!

Your steps had taken you closer to the mouth of a side street, it was shadowy and you didn’t so much as see Sylus, as you did sense him. The hairs on your neck stood to attention and for all your storming anger, you couldn’t deny the desire and affection curling around you.

“No,” Sylus purred into your ear from behind, looming out whatever blind spot he had stalked you from to rub a hand up your arm. “I didn’t call it in…”

“So it was Luke and Kieran, those two pests probably laughed themselves sick once it was done.”

Sylus tsked gently. He drew you carefully into his chest and kissed the crown of your head, happy to be reunited, even if it was the result of foul play. “Let them have their little fun, kitten. You wouldn’t be here if they hadn’t.”

It was impossible to stay mad, it was really was. Instead, you stood on your tiptoes and cupped his cheek until you could claim his lips, slow and deliberate.

“I hope you won’t pull these kind of stunts when we’re working together…”

His breathing stalled at your quip. Vermillion eyes searching yours for deceit or misplaced humour and finding nothing but truth. Sylus smiled…

“That’s a promise I can’t make, sweetie. But, I can promise you won’t regret your decision for a single second.”

Boredom was not something that Xavier handled well. He needed the thrill of the hunt, the adrenaline of the fight or the total blankness of deep, uninterrupted sleep.

So, perhaps it was serendipitous that you should text him at the precise moment he was ready to tug on his hair with the lack of activity. His smile was short-lived as he read the message, wishing he could somehow help.

Is there a way I could help, my starlight?

Xavier stared at his phone for a few seconds, willing the little bubble to appear that signalled your imminent reply, but after a little longer, he tossed it away and closed his eyes.

A ping made one eye crack open.

Not unless you know someone willing to kidnap me from this hellscape. Lol! Don’t worry about me, I’ll survive 💪🫰

He laughed. What a silly notion. Unless… why was the idea growing on him the longer he thought about it?

Did it make him depraved to want to fulfil that role, safe in the knowledge that not a hair on your head would be hurt in the process because he would be the one pulling the strings?

I mean… never mind. Lemme know if you change your mind. It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do today. See you soon, pretty…

~

Your fingers flew across your keyboard, and to the casual observer it would seem like you were deeply engrossed in your work. The truth was that you were gossiping with a work friend over the IM chat feature.

Stretching your arms overhead, you tilted your neck from side to side until you heard a satisfying pop. It was going to be a long afternoon of very little to do. Maybe you needed to pace yourself if the workload was going to continue being this light?

You decided that some soda might cheer you up, so you took the short trip to the break room and happily procured the last can of your favourite flavour. It wasn’t until you were resettled at your desk that you notice the pink post it note on your screen.

Come to the supply closet. I have something for you.

The old adage of ‘curiosity killed the cat’ seemed to be lost on you as you trotted the short distance to the store room in question, wondering if maybe your friend wanted to continue your conversation without the fear of it being tracked. It didn’t even raise alarm when you discovered the small room in complete darkness.

“Tara? Are you in here?”

You tiptoed to the shelves in the very back, turning when you heard movement, only for solid lead to plummet into your stomach as a hooded figure dressed from head to toe in black stalked forward.

The lower half of his face was covered by a mask and the hood pulled low enough that you couldn’t see his eyes. You wanted to scream, to run or do something but your fight or flight failed to kick in. Instead, you backstepped right up against the faraway wall, watching as the man cocked his head and tightened his gloved fist.

You were inching around the perimeter of the room, closing in on the door and he was letting you. It was as if he were toying with you, waiting for you to make a move before he reacted. There was something unsettlingly familiar about his stature and the way he moved… but you didn’t have time to question it, it was now or never.

Lunging for the door, you made your move but he was faster and stronger. One arm wound around your middle whilst the other hand came up to cover your mouth, the scream in your throat trapped. His body was radiating pure heat whilst you thrashed to escape.

“Calm yourself…”

Only half aware of the words, you more heard the voice and confusion blanketed your thoughts. Your struggling lessened and you thought you heard him chuckle in response.

“You wanted to be kidnapped… right?” Xavier teased, carefully removing his palm to listen to your panting breaths.

“Xav—”

“Ah ah. Hush now. You’re not going to struggle. You’re going to walk with me to your desk, grab up your things and come with me without making a scene.”

Why were you so flushed? Why were your legs trembling from something other than fear? Did your heart have to pound quite so loudly? It might have been a joke earlier but somehow being kidnapped by Xavier had become one of the hottest things to ever happen in your life.

You nodded your agreement, accompanied by a soft whimper and he pulled you back against his body for a moment before releasing you. It was long enough that you could feel the growing bulge in his black sweats. The thought of keeping him in here flitted through your mind, but he was nudging you forward before you could let the lewd thoughts slip past your lips.

“Once we’re out of here and no one is watching…” you purred, letting your hand graze down the length of his stomach and stopping deliberately at the waistband of his trousers. “I’m going to make a break for it, I hope you’re ready to chase me.”

Xavier chuckled, dark and predatory.

“I won’t stop until you’re struggling beneath me, my starlight.”

For the first time in what felt like years, Zayne had a scheduled day off on a day you were due to work. You assured him that it would fly in if he simply allowed himself to relax, but here he was… staring at the wall.

It was barely 10am and every chore Zayne could think of had been taken care of. He even had time to start some dough for a fresh loaf of bread, the batch slowly proofing beneath a dish towel in the kitchen.

He had half a mind to go into the hospital and put his time to better use. At least he would be able to achieve something instead of sitting here, wishing you were beside him. Empty hours wouldn’t feel so bad if you shared them. He never felt bored when you were here.

Zayne’s phone thrilled from the coffee table and one glance told him the message was from you. Expecting a cute little reminder message that he was to rest and relax, he was not anticipating what he read.

It wasn’t like you to complain unnecessarily, especially because you genuinely enjoyed your job, so he knew that it had to be rough for you to send that message.

Can I help?

When you didn’t reply, he went to check on his dough to distract himself from thoughts of you, miserable and feeling demotivated.

I don’t think so, but thanks for the offer. Might skip movie night if you don’t mind… think I’ll go to bed when I get home.

Well now, that was simply unacceptable. Zayne knew from experience that denying your emotions never solved the issue, and clearly he needed to remind you of that.

~

There was a knock on your office door. It jolted you upright from where you were slumped over your desk feeling defeated. A courier peeked inside with a sheepish smile and confirmed your name. Once he was satisfied, he produced a beautiful bouquet of flowers in a frosted glass vase.

“These are for me? Are you sure?”

“It’s your name on the card and on the order slip… so yep! Enjoy your flowers, miss.” The man gave a short salute and left you to admire the beautiful blooms.

Your fingers stroked the velvet petals of midnight pansies and silvery lilies. The smell was gentle and sweet, much like the smile adorning your face for the first time today.

You didn’t need the little card tucked into the display to know who they were from and immediately you pulled out your phone and pressed the call button.

“Do you send flowers to all your patients, Dr Zayne?”

Zayne hummed, thoughtful for a second. “Only the ones that have captured my heart.”

Your grin only widened, he was so sweet.

“I don’t know if you realise how much this has brightened my day, you darling man,” you admitted with a soft sob.

The sound of traffic on the other end of the line caught your attention, and you wondered where he might be if not at home. As if sensing your question, Zayne provided the answer unprompted.

“Then I guess taking you out to lunch might be considered overkill?”

“Wait, what?”

“Look outside,” he cooed.

You nearly stumbled out of your chair in your rush to approach the window that looked down on the busy streets below. From your vantage point you could make out a man with a head of midnight hair leaning casually against the trees in the courtyard. Your breath hitched when Zayne glanced up to where he knew your office was located and tipped his coffee cup in your direction.

“Oh, Zayne…”

“Yes?”

“I’m not going to want to come back after we eat,” you grumbled honestly.

“That’s fine. I planned on you having a minor allergic reaction that will require personal treatment. I already have the story planned out when I call your boss in an hour.”

This man thought of everything and right now, you were eternally grateful of that. Smothering your laughter behind your palm, you started to stuff your belongings haphazardly into your bag.

“Y’know what? I love you and every immaculately planned out thought inside that big wrinkly brain of yours.”

“… I love you too?”

“That was a compliment,” you assured him hastily, practically running for the lift.

“Oh. Well, thank you, darling. I’ll see you in a minute so I can return the sentiment correctly.”

[aimiahmad]

,

This is to new beginnings. As I’m struggling to find my style, I would appreciate your feedback. I’m looking forward to your views for the same.

[won4kiss]

── ❝ ꒰ 𝑂𝑃𝑃𝑂𝑆𝐼𝑇𝐸𝑆’ 𝒜𝑇𝑇𝑅𝐴𝐶𝑇 .ᐟㅤ ៸៸﹙ 최범규 ﹚ ᶻ𐰁

GENRE ៸៸ established relationship ៸ emo gyu ៸ oneshot ﹔ SYPNOSIS┆in which you and your boyfriend are complete opposites, and you start feeling insecure about your differences .ᐟㅤ ꒰ WORD COUNT﹕1484 ꒱── 𝓦ARNING(S) not proofread ៸ kissing ៸ pet names ៸ mean girls ៸ . ݁ ✦ ݁ . ⊱ LIBRARY . . . ﹕LUNA 💭 —play pierce the veil pls!! T-T ݁𖥔 ݁˖

YOUR BOYFRIEND BEOMGYU LOOKED EXACTLY HOW YOU WOULD IMAGINE A TYPICAL “EMO” TO LOOK LIKE.

tattoos covering majority of his arms, and some ink peeking out from under his shirt collar.

his piercings gleamed under the mornings sun, and he wore dark clothes that always matched his black hair perfectly.

he was almost always wearing something that showed off his tattoos—a tank top, a loose tee, or even an unbuttoned shirt.

but the most alluring part of him to you were his eyes—they were so warm whenever they landed on you, the intimidating persona fading in a heartbeat as he smiled that soft smile, one that was just for you.

beomgyu was your opposite in almost every way.

he loved rock music, his playlists filled with grunge bands and electrics guitars and drums, the kind of music you wouldn’t normally go near.

you were more of a bright pop kind of person—colourful tops, rhinestoned miniskirts, butterfly clips decorating your hair and gentle smiles. ─── 𝘔𝘖𝘙𝘌 𝘜𝘕𝘋𝘌𝘙 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘊𝘜𝘛 .ᐟㅤ

where he wore black leather, you wore soft knitted cardigans—but despite all of that, he was yours, and you were his.

and anyone who saw the two of you together could see that somehow, it just worked.

it was clear in the way beomgyu would put his arm around you protectively whenever you walked through crowds, his demeanor always softening as he listened to you talk about your day.

he was endlessly affectionate with you—always giving you his softest glances, his most genuine laughter, and his sweetest words.

one day, beomgyu had asked if you wanted to come to a party his friends were hosting.

you’d met a couple of his friends briefly before, but never the whole group—he reassured you that everyone was nice, and that they’d love you.

you trusted him, so after some hesitation, you had finally agreed.

the party was everything you imagined it would be—a dark, gloomy space filled with music that pounded heavily in your chest.

everyone there seemed to dress like beomgyu—black outfits, chains, piercings, heavy makeup.

you walked in with your pastel yellow miniskirt and bright coloured tank-top, and you instantly felt a little out of place.

but beomgyu didn’t let go of your hand for a second, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your skin to reassure you as if he heard your thoughts.

“see, it’s not so bad, right?” beomgyu said, his lips brushing against your ear so you could hear him over the music.

you nodded, giving him a small smile. “yeah, it’s not too bad.”

his eyes softened, and he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “i’m really happy you came,” he said, his voice full of warmth.

you could tell beomgyu was in his element here—he chatted easily with his friends, his demeanor relaxed.

you met some of his friends, and true to his word, they were all welcoming and kind.

they asked you questions, smiled at your answers, and made you feel included despite how different you looked from them.

beomgyu left your side for a moment to grab something from another room, and you decided to make your way over to the drinks table.

as you poured yourself a cup, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of your surroundings pressing down on you.

you felt like you stuck out too much, like everyone else belonged and you were just the odd one out.

and then you heard it.

“honestly, i think beomgyu’s just going through a phase. i mean, look at her. it’s so obvious they’re not gonna last,” a girl’s voice said, her words dripping with condescension. “he’ll get tired of her eventually.” the girl’s friend added.

your hand froze mid-pour, your heart dropping into your stomach.

you didn’t turn around, but you could hear them giggling quietly, the words cutting deeper than you wanted to admit.

you bit your lip, trying to ignore it, but it was impossible to shake the feeling that they might be right—maybe beomgyu would realize you weren’t really what he wanted, maybe this was just a phase for him.

you quickly finished pouring your drink and made your way back to beomgyu, painting on a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

when he returned, he was excited, chatting happily about some funny thing one of his friends had said.

you nodded along, but you felt distant, the insecurity gnawing at your insides.

the car ride home was quiet, beomgyu occasionally glancing over at you, concern slowly growing in his eyes.

you were usually the one who filled the silence with stories or questions, but tonight, you were just staring out the window, lost in your web of thoughts.

beomgyu finally pulled up in front of your place, putting the car in park and turning to you.

“hey, what’s wrong?” he asked softly, his brows knitting together.

he reached out, his fingers brushing against yours. “you’ve been quiet since we left the party.”

you shook your head in denial, giving him a weak smile. “it’s nothing, really.”

but beomgyu wasn’t convinced—he unbuckled his seatbelt and turned his body toward you, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin.

“come on princess, you know you can tell me anything,” he said, his voice gentle, his eyes searching yours. “what’s going on?”

you hesitated for a moment before finally letting out a sigh. “it’s just… i overheard someone at the party,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“they said that… that you were probably just going through a phase. that you’d get tired of me eventually.”

beomgyu’s eyes widened in shock, his hand freezing on your cheek.

he blinked at you, and for a moment, he looked almost hurt—hurt that you would even think that.

“you really think that?” he asked, his voice soft, a whisper. “you really think i’d just… get tired of you?”

you looked down, your fingers fiddling with the hem of your skirt.

“i don’t know. i mean… look at me, gyu. i’m nothing like your friends. i don’t fit in with them. i don’t fit in with your world.”

beomgyu let out a small sigh, his other hand reaching out to take yours, his fingers intertwining with yours.

“y/n, look at me,” he said gently, you hesitated before finally lifting your eyes to meet his.

he gave you the softest smile, his eyes filled with so much love that it made your heart ache.

“you’re not just some phase to me,” he said, his voice steady, filled with sincerity.

“you’re it for me. i don’t care that you’re different from my friends. i don’t want you to be like them. i love you because you’re you. you make me happy in a way no one else ever could.”

you felt your eyes welling up with tears, and beomgyu immediately leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a soft, gentle kiss.

his thumb brushed away a stray tear that escaped down your cheek, and he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours.

“please don’t doubt how much i love you,” he whispered, his voice cracking just a little.

“you’re everything to me. i don’t want anyone else. i only want you.”

you let out a shaky breath, your hands moving to rest on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered. “i just… i got scared.”

beomgyu shook his head, his eyes softening even more. “you never have to be scared, okay? i’m not going anywhere.”

he gave you a small, teasing smile, his nose brushing against yours. “you’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.”

you let out a small laugh, and beomgyu’s smile widened, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

he leaned in again, kissing you softly, his hands cradling your face like you were the most precious thing in the world.

when he finally pulled away, he looked at you with so much love that it took your breath away.

“i love you, y/n. more than anything,” he said, his voice steady, his eyes never leaving yours.

you smiled, your heart swelling with warmth. “i love you too, gyu,” you whispered, your voice full of warmth.

he grinned, his eyes lighting up with that playful glint you loved so much.

“good. now, let’s get you inside, okay? and maybe tomorrow we can have a day just for us. no parties, no friends—just you and me.”

you nodded, your smile widening. “i’d like that.”

beomgyu leaned in, pressing one last kiss to your forehead before finally pulling away, his fingers lacing with yours as he helped you out of the car.

and as you walked toward your door, his hand holding yours tightly, you knew that no matter what anyone else said, no matter how different you were, beomgyu was yours—and that was all that mattered.

© won4kiss 2024

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៸៸ ❝ PLEASE REBLoG AND LiKE .ᐟㅤ 💌

[endless-ineffabilities]

sapphire-hearted (part four)

Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

Aemond is not one who shares those which he thinks belong to him. Including you, as you'll soon find out after an eventful little feast.

themes/warnings: jealous!Aemond, third and fourth parties (but not really), Aemond is a stubborn and possesive arse, drunk Aegon - huzzah!

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

a/n: I can't believe it's been a year since I updated this fiery miniseries! Apologies if I couldn't tag everyone who asked from the previous chapter - taglist is now closed 💙

The necklace is perhaps the most beautiful piece of jewelry you've ever seen.

With an intricate interwoven chain of Valyrian steel, and a sapphire pendant inlaid in a burnt bronze frame that glowed dark green in some lights, the frame displaying carvings that resemble Vhagar's scales.

There is no question to it. Not an inkling of doubt.

This gift is from Aemond.

"You simply found this when you arrived?" you asked your lady-in-waiting, as you pick up the necklace from its velvet casing and study it against the faint firelight in your chambers.

"Yes, my lady," she responds promptly. "Shall I fasten it upon you before you depart for the King's feast?"

Your mind forms almost immediately, resolute in your decision. "No, it will not be of any use to me this night. You may keep it away in my boudoir."

The thought of it around your neck is a pleasant one, to be sure. It is such a thing of beauty, fit to be worn to a royal gathering. But what message might it signal to the others?

What purpose might it serve - especially to Aemond - that you wear something that symbolises him?

All while your companion is Ramsay, with whom you hope to be betrothed.

And while Alys is likely draped upon Aemond's arm. That slimy, bastard witch.

You will not give in, and give him what he wants.

The necklace is far from enough to make up for how he has wronged you, so it stays in your chambers, safely tucked away in its casing, not to be worn until Aemond sets things right.

If he ever will.

Ramsay arrives at your door soon enough, accompanied by two of Aegon's guards. The awe in his gaze as he takes you in is so evident, so pure in its apparent innocence. Unlike Aemond's, who would be undressing you with a single passing look.

Unlike Aemond's, who - despite his trangressions - looks at you like he would burn the entire Seven Kingdoms for your hand.

But he has relinquished your hand when he took that witch to bed.

"You look dashing as ever, my Lord," you curtsy in greeting, as Ramsay kisses your hand. He is clad in a tunic in House Beesbury's yellow and paly black, as you are wearing a gown in your own House's hues.

If not the necklace from Aemond, branding you as his, why not something of Beesbury? It would anger Aemond so, but you are feeling petulant. Why can't you take a jab at him after what he had done?

"And what a lovely sash you wear," you say, observing his attire. "Mayhaps I might display this on my person? Have it as a sort of attachment upon my skirts? I would be proud to have everyone at the feast know that we have come together."

"Of course! I would be honoured, my lady." He immediately relinquishes it, handing it to your lady-in-waiting, who then fastens it around your waist. The colour is striking in contrast. The piece of cloth surely will not go unnoticed.

You make your way through the Red Keep, your arm entwined with Ramsay's. Sounds of the revelry make themselves heard as you near Aegon's private dining hall.

As the guards open the doors, you hear your names announced. Almost all the attendees are already sat around the table. Aegon and his host of sycophants, particularly Lord Reyne and Lord Estermont. Helaena and her lady companions. Tyland Lannister and his betrothed. Even Ser Criston Cole, who has never been one to partake in merrymaking, usually standing guard in the corner. There are some others whose names escape you, as you find your seats - among the last ones which remain empty, right next to Aemond and Alys.

"Welcome, dear lovely guests, welcome!" Aegon walks over to you, already on his fifth or sixth goblet of firewine. "Please find your seats, have a drink - or seven drinks, preferably, and... oh! Isn't that something, my lady? Beesbury yellow?" Not giving mind to any boundaries, he toys with the sash tied around your waist.

Aemond twists around in his seat, catching sight of you for the first time.

His pupil dilates considerably, with a single glance at your face, then down to your décolletage... where the necklace is nought to be seen.

What he sees, raking over your figure, is that sickening shade of bright yellow. That Beesbury sash tainting the beauty of your gown.

Tainting the woman who is rightfully his.

His hand instinctively goes to the scabbard in his belt, though his sword remains in his chambers. It matters not, he can just as easily demand one from the Kingsguard.

Because the rat who calls himself Ramsay has surrendered any desire to stay alive.

"So... you here," Aegon guides you to your seat, with his arm loosely draped around your waist. "And you right there," he adds to Ramsay.

If you didn't know any better, you'd think the seating arrangement is accidental. But you know Aegon - he surely planned it to be Ramsay, you, Aemond and Alys beside each other.

Aemond openly stares at you as you settle down to his left.

"My Prince," Ramsay greets from your other side, "Lady Alys."

"Oh, it's just Alys, m'lord," she clarifies, unabashed. "I am no Lady. I am simply here at the behest of my dear Aemond."

"Prince Aemond is fortunate to have you as his companion, Alys," you smile sweetly, concealing any ire you might have. "As I am fortunate to have Lord Beesbury by my side."

Alys nods, raising her cup to you. To anyone, it's an innocent enough gesture, but you see her up close, and you see into the depths of the witch's gaze. She knows about you and Aemond, of course she does.

The attention of your companions are diverted, and Aemond wastes no time in leaning closer to you. He grips your thigh underneath the table, away from any prying eyes.

"My love," he purrs, "you never fail to take my breath away. Although I never thought you would sully yourself by wearing that. I trust you received my gift?"

You cross your legs so that his hand falls off, but it doesn't faze him. He simply finds purchase yet again, this time digging harder into your flesh. So warm, it almost feels as if your skirts do nothing to prevent his encroaching touch.

"Hmm, don't test me, now," he warns, lips curling back in annoyance. His tone is so deep you feel the heat pooling in your core.

"I could say the same to you," you counter. "Do not lay a hand on me, my prince. Especially not in the presence of my betrothed." You push his hand away, and he relents for the moment, reaching for his goblet and downing its contents in one angry swig.

"And by betrothed, you must mean that you have reconsidered my proposal and agree to be wed to me, your only love," he says, daring you to challenge him.

"You are mistaken, Aemond," you respond coolly. "I do appreciate the necklace. It is a marvel, indeed. But there is a reason why I don something of Lord Ramsay's instead of it. I am not yours. I feared the message it would send were I to wear the necklace to this feast."

"What message, my love? The truth? That you are mine and mine alone?"

"That is finished - "

"If you value Lord Beesbury's life by any small measure, you would not speak to me of such vile ideas. He will not have you, lest he wishes his head to no longer rest upon his shoulders."

"Resorting to threats now, are we?" you spit venomously. "You will not harm him. Or I swear to you on my mother's memory that I will never speak with you again."

That shuts him up. He exhales deeply, weighing your words, studying your expression. He wants to fight back and to call your bluff, but it is no use. His gaze is drawn down to your lips, and he moves closer just an inch, his own lips parted in longing and torment.

"Well, it seems we may have more cause for celebration!" Aegon bellows from the head of the table, with a grinning Ramsay standing by his side. You tear your attention away from Aemond, but he lingers on you, until his brother calls out for him. "Aemond! You must have known about this, dear brother, as I understand you and the lady have always been close."

The guests share glances, already assuming what the news might be, but none of them say a word for fear of their Prince Aemond.

"Iderēbagon aōha udra sȳrī, lēkia." Choose your words wisely, brother, Aemond warns him. The mood of the entire room shifts, as it inevitably does whenever Aemond speaks.

"Oh come now, none of that!" Aegon groans, drunk and unamused. Nothing will bring his spirits down, not even his far more intimidating younger brother. "These are happy news. Something about a successful betrothal, I hear?" he declares, nudging Ramsay to make the announcement.

Ramsay locks eyes with you, and you manage to give a stiff smile, aware of the simmering rage of the one seated beside you.

"Allow me," Aemond stands, raising his cup to the entire table.

"Even better," Aegon shrugs, "you have always been excellent at dinner proclamations, lēkia." Brother, he addresses Aemond, his own Valyrian disjointed and careless.

Aegon sits back down and raises his cup. A confused but still smiling Ramsay returns to sit next to you.

Ramsay hurriedly tells you, "I was hoping to share the news myself, my lady, but - "

"Do I not have your attention, Lord Beesbury?" Aemond interrupts.

"O-of course, you do, my prince," Ramsay stammers, reaching for his cup with shaky fingers. You take notice and place your hand atop his to provide comfort.

Someone else takes notice, unfortunately.

"A toast," Aemond voices clearly, and a hush falls over the room, "to a new betrothal."

"Hear, hear," Aegon responds, taking a sip of firewine and waving for the others to do the same.

But Aemond is not finished just yet. "We are not often afforded the privilege to marry for love, and that is what makes this union so exceptional."

You stiffen in your seat, dreading the next words that you know will come out of his mouth. For you know him so well. You know Aemond's design.

"It is an honour to take my love to be my wife," he raises his cup as he gestures to you, and you swear you could hear a pin drop in the deafening silence that ensued. "She is already the keeper of my heart, so the ceremony will only be a formality. But I shall take her as mine in every way that I can. In front of the old gods and the new."

You are unable to drop Aemond's gaze, unable to see the look of betrayal Ramsay is giving you.

"Hear, hear," Ser Criston offers, in an attempt to cut through the tension.

Aegon releases a fit of laughter, prompting his fawners to follow suit.

"Seven hells!" he exclaims. "More wine, more wine for all!"

Aemond rushes to you, pulling you out of your chair, not paying mind to anything or anyone else.

"Come with me," he commands, his fingers tight around your wrist.

You feel powerless as you let him herd you away from the table and out of the hall.

"Oh, would you look at them!" Aegon practically squeals, and calls after you, "It is customary for the bedding to be after the wedding, you two! But then again, who fucking cares?"

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