#i was born to annoy my fiancée

[lonelynpc]

i'm just saying if i was kurosawa in cherry magic, once i found out about the mind reading i would use it to torment my fiancée with suggestive comments and songs she hates

i am not stuck in the lift with you reading my thoughts, you're stuck in here with me knowing that you can

[hotchfiles]

↪ day twelve. dinner party stories — #marchhotchness

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [family line] ❞

pairing: hotchner x fem!reader. summary: he snickers when he secretly whispers you that and you’re sure this is the family you were born to be after all, it just took you a little while to find it. or: aaron shows what the unconditional love of a family should be like. content warnings: not proofread, a lot of family issues brought up, weight gain mention (negatively once, then positively), reader's parents being annoying and kind of mean. word count: 2.4K

      Aaron sees it in your eyes, in your breathing, in the way you move. He sees it in the way you’ve been playing more with your necklace and by how you can’t seem to stop spinning your engagement ring around your finger. He hasn’t seen you this anxious in months, and back then you were working on finishing your dissertation and it collided with the company you worked at losing clients, it was chaos. He knew right now there was no chaos in sight, so it could only mean one thing. 

      “Honey, did you speak to your parents recently?” His voice is always as soft as a feather when talking to you, even in the rare instances you argue. 

      You turn from the scrabble pieces and set your wine glass down, not minding the interruption to the cozy game when his voice sounded like that and his eyes looked at you like you were something so precious you could break. 

      “No, babe, why d’you ask?” 

      “You’re fidgeting like an hyperactive kid who hasn’t been put on Ritalin yet lately.” His explanation catches you off guard in a way that you almost reprehend him saying his name in a high pitched voice and slapping his arm in between laughter. His smirk shows you just how accomplished he feels that he made you laugh like that. 

      Aaron takes both of your hands in his, kissing your knuckles and urging you to talk with him just by the way he looked into your eyes, eagerly waiting for you to vent about what was making you so restless. 

      “I haven’t told them about the engagement yet. I want to have them over for dinner, to share the news but they are so…” You sigh profoundly, looking up to the ceiling trying to finish that though in a way that made sense. “Difficult.” 

      Aaron knows what difficult really means. It means patronizing. It means unsupportive. Unwilling. Unhelpful. It doesn’t mean unloving, but it means old fashioned in a way that it feels unloving. “We could have dinner in a nice restaurant instead, to ease up some of that pressure.” He suggests, always the problem solver. 

      “It would be perfect, handsome, but we did that last time…” Your voice trails off, laying your head on his lap, urging him to gently pass his fingers through your hair by that act alone, cozying up to him in an attempt to ignore the problem at hand. 

      Hotch follows your lead, not forgetting to place a kiss on your forehead, but also, not letting the problem go. “And my dear future mother in law will start dropping hints again that we don’t want them here.” You nod quietly. “Alright. Don’t call. Text her inviting them over with the details. Less talking.” 

      You groan, “She will complain about that too…”

      “Once they’re here.” He kisses your forehead, “So it’s only one,” and your nose, “Night,” your right cheek, “Of,” your left cheek, and you’re already grinning like an idiot, holding in your laughter at his boyishness, “Complaining.” Aaron finishes, brushing his lips against yours. you nod and pull your head up slightly, finally connecting you two in a sweet slow kiss.

      You get your big girl pants on after a delicious making out session with your fiancé, the scrabble pieces long forgotten as you gulp down your whole glass of wine and pick up your phone. His hair is messy, his cheeks are flushed and he grins at you with reassurance pouring from his sweet eyes as you send your mother the text, throwing your phone back to the table before seeing a response and going back straight to his arms.

      He made it easier, always. Helped you sort your feelings out, helped you find out the less stressing way to solve your problems. It was a joy to have him, to watch how he talked to Jack and see how it should be.

      More often than you would like to admit, you caught yourself thinking wow my parents would not let that slide, and then you would be faced with the reality that they were in the wrong, not Aaron.

      You talked to him about it once, asked how could he be so sweet and so effortlessly so to Jack, his answer came quickly, no hesitation: Jack had lost enough, losing his trust on his dad was not something Aaron would let happen, he didn’t want Jack to go through what he had as a child.

      Then it clicked to you once more, how you would never want to treat your hypothetical children like you had been treated too. 

      You try not to think too much about these things too often nowadays, but even as you laid on Aaron’s chest and felt his fingers lightly, softly, trace designs on your skin, now all you could think about was the damned dinner.

      Your mom wasn’t too judgy when it came to what you cooked, your dad was and annoyingly so, always had some remark about what would have made the food better, just like he did to your mother back home. 

      So first thing you did the next morning was think through all dinners and remarks and find something you could do following his tips to lessen the complaining, Aaron’s idea, of course. 

      “He always says my lasagna is delicious but too dry,” You mumble to yourself, but not really, you have your earphones on and Aaron on call, in the office doing reports he was able to entertain you as you picked up ingredients for extra sauce.

      You can hear him smiling, the sound of his aggressive pen on paper stopping for a second, “Even Rossi loves your lasagna, it is delicious. Just give your father a bowl full of sauce, he will be happier.” You snort and he goes back to his papers, satisfied to have made you laugh through the stress.

      Gathering the rest of the ingredients is easy enough, you’re already used to the grocery store’s layout and setup, you keep him on the line either way, a tradition you both kept whenever you were doing monotonous tasks, even when he didn’t speak, listening to his breathing, the shuffling of papers and his pen quickly making work through all his reports made you smile, calmed you down.

      Hotch thought it was silly at first, but quickly warmed up to it when he heard you softly,  secretive so, humming songs to yourself as you worked on your own reports, or went shopping, not to mention how adorable he found you to be when you forgot he was on the line and jumped scared as he spoke something.

      Most of all, he loved being immersed in a paper trail and being surprised by a hey I love you right in his ear as if you were there.

      It pained him to know how much of yourself you tried to mute down to please your parents when he loved every single tiny piece of what made you… You.  

      Hotch excused himself from the call to talk to Rossi just as you were about to go back home, satisfied you convinced him to get Rossi’s sauce recipe. 

      “Hers is great, why does she need mine?” Rossi sound almost exasperated, as if Hotch himself had said something about your cooking. He is quick to reassure that’s not the case and explain how you’re trying to please your father, Dave doesn’t seem that much happier about it, always pleased with the dishes you made for dinner parties at his mansion, but he still takes his phone and sends you a voice note explaining each step of his homemade tomato sauce. “Anything else?”

      “I need a favor as well. I’m gonna need the next weekend off for this.” Hotch begins, he knows Rossi would never mind that, no one would, in fact most people from the Bureau agreed he needed time off. “I know myself enough, I need to be completely off, no calls, no briefings.” He’s learnt his lesson from too many past mistakes, if he knows the case, if he knows the team needs him, he will be putting his job above anything else, Aaron can’t afford to do that anymore, so he prevents it. 

      His left thumb rubs the side of his index finger, his way to calm his racing thoughts, just the possibility of ruining this dinner has him anxious, this little habit of his was something he hadn’t even noticed he did before he met you. It was one of his tells and he never realized before you took his hand in yours and looked sweetly into his eyes saying you’re stimming, what’s wrong? In the softest tone he had ever heard anyone speak to him. 

      You were always quick to notice if anyone around you didn’t feel well, always a caretaker, it was a sight to take in and a pain to prove you so, being seen as selfish your whole life at home. 

      That day he got home late, Jack was doing his homework with your help while you worked on a few things on your laptop—a presentation you needed to finish soon as possible to get the next Friday off. 

      His office had become a shared office with your help, a U shaped desk where both of you could work being one of the first changes you made to it as soon as you moved in, it was perfect and it gave Jack space to sit close to either of you when he needed help.

      The sides faced the walls while and front faced the window where you and Jack sat, focused, it gave Hotch time to lean in the door frame and watch you both.

      “I’m not sure about that one, Jack-Jack…” You stop typing to read the question in his book again, impressed with how little you remember of school math. “If I Google this up, promise not to tell your teacher?” Aaron clears his throat at the question, catching your attention and making you laugh: Caught in the act. 

      “No Google, buddy, sorry.” Jack scrunches his nose at his father’s ruling out, a loud groan coming from his pre teen little voice. 

      “Told ya we should have started this earlierrrr—” You tease the boy, insinuating you two would have been able to find the answer online without his dad knowing then, you ruffle his short hair softly, loving the endearing smile he always gives you when you do that.

      His smile quickly turns into a yawn, the weight of the time stamped on Aaron’s watch getting to Jack’s eyes, “I’m sleepy.” 

      “You can finish tomorrow, let’s get you two to bed, buddy.” 

      Hotch picks Jack up and the young Hotchner is nothing but a ball of giggles, always saying he’s too big for that now, but obviously still loving the attention. 

      “Enjoy while you can, Jack-Jack, your old man is not getting any younger.” 

      “Yeah? I’m carrying your ass to bed soon too, my back can handle you both for years still.” You and Jack both laugh at him. It’s always almost as if a harsh mask melted when he got home, in its place would remain his soft features and the bickering you loved so dearly. 

      It was warm. And kind. Even when he came back home stressed, you never had to worry about accidentally setting him off or saying the wrong thing. It was a completely different dynamic than what you were used to. 

      It takes a few minutes for Hotch to come back, but he comes ready to make true of his promise, hands straight to your waist to carry you, tickling his way into your defenses, he laughs at your laughter and at how easy you melt to his touch. “I’m just finishing this up, babyy—” Your voice is purposefully whiny, pouting at him and getting a kiss in return, “Go eat your dinner while I do it, I heated it up when I got your text!”

      He stops trying to pull you up his shoulder or around his waist then, the look he gives you then reminds you of why you fell for him: Sweet like caramel, always betraying his known frown. 

      Aaron looks at you like every act of kindness you do makes him fall in love again, and it does. He traces your features with his thumb in silence, the mix of his calloused fingers and the softness of his actions makes you sigh, leaning into it.

      “I love you. I love our little family.” He kisses your forehead and leaves you to your presentation before you can even reply, before you can even tell him the two Hotchner boys are the first healthy family you’ve ever been in.

      You don’t even mind your dad complaining about your lasagna having way too much sauce the week after. Aaron eats for the both of them, compliments every single decision you made while cooking.

      The second your mother tells you you’ve been gaining weight, Aaron replies with a simple “If anything, we’re both getting bigger and happier.” A squeeze tight to your knee, stopping you from tearing up at how that was the only thing your mother did notice.

      They seemed happy about the engagement, but not too sure you’ll be able to care for him and his child as they needed to be cared for. You’re forgetful. You’re not maternal. You worry about work too much.

      You’re not even sure how good news could lead to such rambling about your flaws but again, before you can either cry or lose control and yell—Aaron comes in, his soft smile being completely betrayed by his furrowed brows and stern tone. He’s trying to be polite. “We take care of each other well, and together we care for Jack. It works. We work.”

      It’s simple but effective, what he wants is to shield you, to tell them how lucky they are you grew up as kind and hardworking when all they did was bring you down and doubt your feelings and your dreams.

      He wants to show them drawings Jack made of you and essays he wrote about his family. 

      But for now he settles on being polite. There’s still the whole wedding preparation and the actual wedding to go through. He has time to do all that. Right now he just makes sure to show you and them how much he supports you and how nothing they can ever say will change how he sees you. 

      At least he’s glad his mother is dead, one less problematic in law to deal with.

      He snickers when he secretly whispers you that and you’re sure this is the family you were born to be after all, it just took you a little while to find it.

[zerolune]

I Hate (Love) You

Synopsis: Being born in a rich family is a double-edged sword. You have everything, except choice. So when you were arranged to be married to Gunwook, you didn't have much of a choice either. Despite his scowl everytime he saw you, and despite your own hatred towards him, you couldn't help but admit it, you wanted him. And lucky for you, he was your husband after all.

Warnings: Includes smut, MDNI, Aged up Gunwook, inexperienced reader, Gunwook is plenty mean at first, fingering, use of petnames (baby, darling, doll), penetration, sort of unsafe sex (use protection always please) and that should be it.

They say love harbours the beauty of life. Through thick and thin, one has a person to rely on- their person. And marriage is a vow to bond that love permanently. However, for you that was very different.

When you were told you would soon be marrying you weren't happy, but you weren't entirely sad either.

Your fiancé, Park Gunwook was the son and the heir to the Park industries, the leading investors in your father's newest business venture. So of course as fate it be- you were arranged to marry this man without your knowing.

"Y/n honey, are you done getting ready- oh...oh thank god you're wearing the dress I asked you to!" Your mother nearly squeals in excitement complimenting the way the dress hugs you, talking about how her choice is always the best. You hold back an eye roll as you smile, you and your parents finally getting out.

When you reach the 3 star Michelin restaurant, the aura of the fancy decor immediately hits you, piercing your gaze as you tried to focus on your sight in front of you.

"Oh Taejung!" Your father greets his friend, your future father-in-law. They both hug as your mother and Gunwook's mother exchange warm smiles.

And there he was, clad in a grey blazer over a white dress shirt- his stature was tall with broad shoulders and his face was smiling...until it turned to you and it became rather indifferent. His sparkling eyes became cold and uninviting and all the confidence you'd managed to build up was- flooding down the drain..

"So, y/n you're currently in your first year of MBA right?" Mr.Park asks, his lips curving in a smile as you shake your head, "I'm starting my second year this August actually."

"Impressive really...you started college at 15 hm?" Your mother in law to-be asks, her face rather intimidating.

"Yes, I skipped a few grades as a child..." you said, gaze travelling towards Gunwook who seemed to be eyeing the way your dress dipped down near your cleavage. His gaze then meets yours, sharp eyes scowling at you, just what was his problem?

Amongst the young people of the high class society circle...Gunwook was an infamous Casanova, sure he was every parent's dream son with his wit and charm but he was also every girl's dream. He was pretty much perfect and kind, except to you.

Weeks passed, you got engaged, you were officially his fiancee, and soon enough your wedding day arrived- it was really celebratory with all the expensive decor your and his parents spent thousands on, but really, it was simple. You walked down the aisle, your marriage was officiated and just like that, the two of you were going back home.

"So, you're my wife now huh?" His voice is is neutral as his hands are fixed on the steering wheel. "Well yea sure."

He scoffs, his foot hitting the breaks as you both approach a red light. "You're way too nonchalant about this you know?"

"And why does that make you mad?" You ask, turning to face him.

"Well, you...I never wanted to marry you, I.. I don't even like you for god's sake!" It's as if his gaze betrayed him, travelling down to your chest that wore a strapless white dress.

"I didn't want to marry you either, gosh..." you roll your eyes, annoyed by his attitude. "You should be happy, I'm the most coveted bachelor you know?" He tried to boast, not looking away from you.

"So?" He was right, but it was also way too cocky of him to say that, it pissed you off in a way that you wanted him to shut up. To make him shut up.

His tongue poked the side of cheek, anger practically ensuing his striking features. Truth be told, he too was pissed. Pissed in a way that he wanted to shut that pretty mouth of yours.

"You know what? Since none of us love each other let's just keep an open marriage-" before Gunwook could register any of your words he had to make a sharp break since a pedestrian decided to just randomly walk during a green light. You heard him curse under his breath, the veins on his hand beautifully popping as gripped the wheel harder. You had to suck in a breath to not drool, okay...maybe he was attractive- no what the fuck were you thinking?

"You okay?" He asks, his face softened a little bit. "Yea...I'm fine." You say, it was rather pathetic how easily you let his pretty face distract you from how much you hated him- but, did you really?

Maybe it was the idea of him that you hated, the idea that a man you barely knew was your husband. The idea that you would have probably chose him, if you had a choice. Maybe you hated the fact that you had no choice. It was for certain that you hated the fact that since birth, nothing was a choice but an obligation and this was too, you hated the deprivation of control you had over your own life.

That is exactly what you thought of as you showered, reluctantly did your skincare as you pulled through tiredness and finally draped yourself in your nightdress before walking in to your room.

Just as you sit down on the bed, you hear a knock. "Come in." You say as you couldn't help but let your gaze travel over Gunwook's tall figure wearing simple shorts and hoodie with his hair down.

"Y/n...I...I'm sorry, I didn't mean all those harsh words I've said to you, just...I've been mad over not-"

"Not having a choice over your own life?"

His eyes widened as you cut him off, realising that you too went through the same thing. "I...well yea. Since i was a child, I have barely been able to do what I want. And just the thought of me being nothing but a pawn for my father's business, it...it makes me feel helpless." You could see him slowly getting vulnerable realising how the two of you were going through the exact situation.

"Me too Gunwook, I...I think it's wrong, but you're...you're not that bad really,"

"Oh trust me, I'm plenty bad..." he purses his lips. "Bad joke sorry..." he bows his head down as you chuckle.

"Gunwook, I have a proposal to make, what if we keep our marriage open? I mean, we're already sleeping in two different rooms...let's...let's just stick to the fact that we may not want to love each other and that-"

"Shut up." His face turned furious again, he didn't know it but the thought of you being so close...but still not his made him rather furious. "None of that crap Y/n, you're really fucking beautiful and I'd be an idiot to not want you. I would be an idiot to not admit that you stir up a lot of different emotions in me. I would be an idiot to not admit that I want to shut you up everytime you start speaking."

"What? But you said that you never wanted to-" before you could complete your sentence your lips were suddenly meeting his before he pulled away and looked at you. "Shut up Y/n" he said before he pulled your face to his and kissed you, your fingers entangled in his hair as his roamed over your body.

He bit your lip to make his tongue enter your mouth, his hands explored your body, clinging to and wrinkling the silk of your dress as he continued to kiss you, pulling away for a bit, hungry eyes darting all over your body as he suddenly stood up.

"What's wrong- OH WHAT THE FUCK-" You were more than flabbergasted as he suddenly picked you up and threw you over his shoulders like some kind of potato sack.

He gave your butt a gentle pat as he made his way to his room, effortlessly putting you down on the floor. "There."

"Why did you bring me here?" You raise a brow as he chuckles. "Just to show you that I could maneuver you any way I like."

It was sick, but you couldn't help but blush at that, clearing you throat as you avoided his eyes. "Ah, quite easily flustered aren't ya?" He said, gently pushing you on the soft sheets of the bed.

"Mhm, haven't been laid in a while, quite happy I get this for the rest of my life." His words are a soft hum against your skin as he kisses your neck, pinning your wrists with his one hand as the other bunches up your dress near your hips.

"I...wait Gunwook, I...I haven't gone further than this before..." you suddenly confess, blood rushing to your cheeks like clockwork as his hands tug on the hems of your underwear.

"Mhm, no big deal, I'll be gentle." He whispers in your ear before pulling your panties down, lifting up your hips and spreading your thighs apart, groaning at the wet sight in front of him.

"All this for me?" He mocks, his hands now holding your knees apart as you try to close your thighs. "No baby, let me see..." his fingers trail down to your core, brushing against it as you let out tiny gasps.

"I'll use just one finger first, hold my hand if it hurts and keep your legs nice and spread baby." His voice is laced with such dominance that you immediately nod reaching to hold his hand as he gently inserts a finger- oh god...that hurt- until it didn't and you wanted him to move, and before you could say so, he did, slowly thrusting his finger in and out, cooing at you, as you try to hold back your moans.

"Don't hide those pretty noises doll, let me hear you...let me hear you please." His movements speed up, and you scream a little when he adds another finger, your grip on his hand growing tighter and tighter until you feel some sort of knot forming in your belly.

"Gunwook- I...I think I'm close..." just as you say that and you let your eyes roll back you find that he thrusts out, but he doesn't go back in, he pulls his fingers away, smirking as he takes them to his lips and licks them clean. You whimper in annoyance from the empty feeling as he makes a mocking pout with his lips.

"You-what-but you-" he tsks at your pathetic behaviour, rolling you to the side as he takes his place on the bed next to you. "Come baby, it's time to sleep."

"You can't do this to me!!" He traps you in his arms, putting a leg over you as he lulls you to sleep. "No more whining." He says, giving your neck a sweet peck.

"But Gunwook!!"

"Y/n what did I say?" And just like that, you were forced to sleep, being cradled in his arms like you were some sort of child.

The next morning, you woke up, only to find him not next to you but heating the sounds of the shower running in the bathroom.

You sigh as you get up from his bed, trying to find your panties from yesterday but couldn't so you head back to your room, also taking a quick shower and wearing some comfy shorts and tshirt.

You go into the kitchen, already finding him sipping some coffee as he sat shirtless on the dining table, scrolling his phone. Wait...what?

You turn around a second time and indeed he had no shirt on. You were not baffled, but rather flabbergasted at the sight because not only did he flaunt his broad shoulders accompanied by his muscular arms. Was he trying to seduce you after edging you last night?

"G-good morning," you curse yourself as you stutter like some character from a fanfiction when he innocently looks up from his phone and grins sheepishly.

"Something wrong darling?"

"No..." you trail off as you head to the fridge and remove a fresh carton of orange juice before treading to the kitchen counter, reaching up to get a glass before you turn your head back to the way he chuckles.

"What?" You cross your arms, watching him walk over to you. "Nothing, baby," oh that annoying smirk was back...

You roll your eyes, turning around when suddenly you found yourself pressed to the counter, your back against his bare chest as his hand touched yours to reach for the glass you could've easily got.

He keeps the glass aside, wrapping his arm around your waist to turn you around before caging you between the marble platform and his tall frame.

"Thirsty?" He asks, tilting his head to the side as his gaze locks onto your features.

"Could've gone for some juice yea." You say, raising a brow at his seemingly pointless antics that you seemed to love.

"Eh? Shouldn't little girls like you have milk to grow up?" He teases, probably hinting towards either your height or your two year age difference.

"Oh but I find it quite unappealing, quite bad for the skin you know..." you reply, putting your palms over his bare shoulders.

"What if I knew a type that wasn't bad for the skin?" Gunwook's knees spread your thighs apart, settling to hover over the middle of your shorts as he leaned closer to your neck, breath tickling your ear as he whispered, "A type that's more natural, raw, straight from the source even...and fulfils your....thirst."

You gasp as his knee rubs against your core, his lips pressed to your neck as he keeps you pressed to the kitchen counter. You feel your breathing turn ragged as he continues to press his knee against your now dampening shorts and pulls your hoodie to the side to gain better access of your neck, sucking marks that you would have to hide later on. You feel yourself getting lost in the tiny pleasures he gave you...but you wanted more. You needed him to give you more.

"Gunwook...please...more..." you whimper, already weak from his ministrations.

"You just don't ever have patience do you?" He says, before picking you up again, perhaps boasting his strength and carrying you to his room, gently (not so gently) throwing you on the bed.

"I'll ask you this, are you sure you're ready-" he was cut off as you annoyedly let out a groan.

"Can't you just give me what I need? Do I have to beg-"

"That doesn't sound all that bad," he begins, his hands pulling down your shorts and panties, "but I'm too hard myself, so I'll give it you baby."

He leads your hand to his groin, making you feel his length as you gasp at the size. "You expect that to fit in there?"

"Baby, I'll be gentle, trust me and let me do I do best...at least I think I do a fairly good job-" he chuckles, spreading your thighs apart before his thumb played with your clit, the wet sound making this whole interaction even more nasty.

He slowly inserts two fingers, cooing at you when you whine from the stretch...eventually he gets rid of his sweats and boxers, stroking his cock before looking at your face for approval once more.

"Please..." you say, already weak for him...just then you feel it. That rip. That pain...you can't help but let the tears pool. "Baby...I know you're nervous, but don't clench, it makes it a little painful at first...just relax..." he caresses your cheek.

"Tell me when to move darling..." he wipes your tears, before leaning down to kiss you. You feel his tongue exploring your mouth, before he pulls away, breathless and panting, kissing your neck again, trying to distract you from the pain. "You can...move..." you say, feeling a bit comfortable.

That was when he began thrusting, it was slow and comforting at first, but then, he began moving faster, pulling your hoodie over your chest to squeeze the flesh and pinch the sensitive bud. You moan at the pleasure, which was previously painful, but now you need him to move faster and bring you to that high.

"Gunwook...please...more..."

"Baby, I don't want to hurt you..."

"But- ah...I want more..." you whimper again, gripping his broad shoulders. "Okay baby...okay..." he moves faster, his own face contorting in pleasure as he groans...

"Do you want me to pull out?"

You say something but he doesn't get it, so when he feels you and him both shudder, he thrusts out but doesn't go back in, choosing to merely stroke his cock as he fingers your wet pussy.

You try to bring your hands to stroke him but he refuses..."No...baby...this is your pleasure...ah-" that was when he felt the wet, sticky fluid dripping down you, and he shivers in ecstasy as his own cock spurts out his cum.

"You did so...so fucking good for me baby..." he says, still recovering from his high. You both pant for air, the adrenaline soon coming down.

"You...I don't know if it's cuz I'm a virgin but you did so good...fuck..." you say, losing any self respect you ever had. "Oh trust me darling, I could've done so much more...but since this is your first..." he smiles, before collapsing beside you, pulling you in his embrace as he buries his face in your neck.

"But don't worry, we'll have plenty more firsts on our honeymoon." He mutters, his hand creeping under your sweater to knead your boob again.

"What honeymoon?"

"The one we're going on day after tomorrow, pack up soon baby."

"But I have a test on-"

"Oh shut up. Now tell me, ever given a blow job before?"

"Oh I hate you so much." You scowl, as he continues to laugh, "Oh I love you too my prett baby..."

You giggle in his arms as you both continued to enjoy the lazy Saturday morning, in bed, and the bathtub...and then lunch before which he bent you over the counter and his way with you.

[jexnkookie]

The Law of Attraction (Lawyer! Jung Kook x Reader) [Part 9]

Story Synopsis: Throughout his life, Jung Kook has only ever loved one girl. Despite her being out of his league and of an elite class that he wasn't born into, he fell hard, keeping his feelings a closely guarded secret. When they parted ways, and Jung Kook pursued his law career, he did so with the intent of moving on. But when she unexpectedly arrives back into his life, Jung Kook finds himself once again face to face with his own insecurities, and the girl of his dreams.

Story Rating: M (18+) [Language, sex, depression, alcoholism]

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Characters/Pairings: Lawyer! Jung Kook x Reader (feat. Jimin x Reader)

Chapter Word Count: 2.1k

Taglist: @cassies-cookies @crisle19 @dream-cvtcher @jimincrystal @jksusawife @jk-190811 @khadeeeeej @kooklovee @lalataegi @lallataegi @mukeovernetflix @rispwn @shellyyy177 @smoljimjim @taetaecatbo @user-190811 @whoa-jo @11thenightwemet11

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“Alright, let’s get started.” 

The buzzing fluorescent lights in the closed room were annoying to Jimin’s eyes, but he sat still and focused on the woman in front of him, who introduced herself as Wendy, rather than going by Dr. Moore. Her short, red-painted nails stayed locked around a ball-point pen, ready to scribble notes on her yellow notepad. Her glasses fell to the bottom of her nose, and her black hair with grey at the roots revealed her older age. Jimin wasn’t sure why he felt so nervous. This is what he signed up for, after all; to learn whyhe has a problem, so he can stophaving a problem. He kept reminding himself that you’d be proud right now as he sat on the small sofa of her office, getting comfortable among the piles of pillows.

“Ok.” He responded. Every inch of his body revealing the reservations he had. 

“Can you share a bit about why you’re here?” Wendy invited him to speak. 

“I drink a lot. Sometimes.” Jimin said shyly. 

“Ok,” She said warmly. “Did something happen while you were drinking that brought you here?” 

“Yes.” He answered, nervously playing with the fabric of his sleeves. “I fought with my fiancé, Y/N, in our hotel room and I….” 

It was a struggle for him to admit. The memories of crying, broken glass from his phone, the way you looked so scared of him all replayed in my mind, haunting him.

“It’s ok.” Wendy said. “Please, take your time.” 

“Thank you. I… I threw my phone, not really at her but at the wall behind her. The screen shattered, and it scared her, so she called someone.” 

“Thank you for sharing that with me.” Wendy said, appreciating his honesty. “Let’s start with getting to know you a little bit, Jimin. Can you tell me about your family?” 

“My parents?” He asked, watching her nod in response. “My father was CEO of our family business, Park Tech, until he recently retired and I inherited the company, and my mother was a stay at home mother.” 

“What does she do now?” Wendy asked. 

“She passed away several years ago.” Jimin responded, his voice giving away his sadness at the subject. 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Dr. Moore said, making genuine eye contact with Jimin. “How would you describe your emotions around that time?” 

Jimin looked away from her, down to his feet, and shrugged his shoulders. The only person he had ever reallydiscussed his mother with, was you. But even then, he struggled to be truly vulnerable. It just became too difficult to muster up memories of that period of his life, let alone genuinely open up, so Jimin opted to reject it altogether. But as Wendy looked at him, and gave him space to collect himself, he wanted to try for once. For the sake of his relationship with you. 

“Angry.” He responded. “I was angry.” 

“Angry with her?” Dr. Moore clarified, and Jimin nodded. “May I ask why?” 

“She left me.” Jimin answered, still unable to make eye contact. His arms were crossed at his chest, posture defensive and guarded. “She left me alone with my father, and I had to deal with him by myself.” 

“Why do you find your father difficult to deal with?”  

“He’s just…” Jimin’s words scrambled in his mind, unable to be organized in a way that could effectively explain his complicated relationship with his father. “He’s critical. Everything I do seems to be a mistake, and he believes that I can’t handle anything. I try to make him happy, but he never is.” 

“Was he like that before your mother passed away?” 

“A little. He’s gotten worse.” 

“After your mother passed, is that when you started drinking?” She asked gently, and Jimin nodded. “A way to cope.” 

“You could say that.” Jimin said. 

“Is your father upset by your drinking?” 

“Very.” Jimin chuckled sadly. “He says I’m an embarrassment, that I’m ruining the family reputation and the value of the company. He says that I’m lucky Y/N agreed to marry me at all, since I’m such a mess.” 

Dr. Moore wrote down some notes, and took a moment to look at Jimin. He felt studied, and began uncomfortably shifting in his seat. 

“I think you did a lot today.” She said with a smile. “Thank you for sharing so much with me. I think we’ll end early, but I’d like to leave you with one thought before you go.” 

She took off her glasses, sitting them on the desk beside her, and then placed her notepad and pens on the same spot. She leaned forward, drawing in Jimin’s attention, and kept a warm demeanor to her, allowing him to be pulled in. 

“I think that so often, when we do things to hurt others, we end up hurting ourselves the most.” She explained. “It backfires. The person we were trying to hurt with our actions, isn’t nearly as affected as we think they are. But rather, it’s us who take the hit.” 

Jimin nodded, trying to make a connection to something he had said. The timer beeped, letting them know they were finished for the day. 

A few hours later, you enter through the hallway of the treatment center to meet with Jimin at a private table. His eyes, and his entire world, lit up the moment he sees you. His posture becomes straighter, and his lips turn upwards into a smile. 

“Hi, honey.” He stands to greet you, giving you a quick peck on the lips before noticing the bag in your hand. “You brought me something?” 

“Mhm. Jungkook and I made noodles this morning for our lunches, and I made extra for you.” You explained nicely. 

Jimin bit his tongue, but internally, he loathed imagining how you spent your morning cooking with Jungkook, in his kitchen, in his apartment.

“Thank you, honey.” He said softly, leaning in for another, slower, kiss. “So sweet.” 

You two sat together and ate, and you asked Jimin enjoyed the noodles the best he could, as you asked him about his day so far. He gave vague answers, said that therapy was good, and that for what it’s worth, he doesn’t hate it here. Jimin asks you what you’ve been up to, and that’s when you tell him about the book store and the red pandas. The more you talked, the happier you seemed. Jimin felt incredible hatred towards himself, because he hated it, knowing he wasn’t the reason. 

“Jungkook really has been so nice.” You said, taking another bite of your noodles. 

“Yeah, you two seem to get along very well.” Jimin’s voice sarcastically quipped. You furrowed your brows at his tone and attitude. His face was stern, clearly upset by something you said. 

“Baby, what’s the matter? You know it was just-”

You reached out to touch his hand, to console him, but when his eyes glanced down at your finger, his composure cracked completely. 

“Your ring is gone.” He said, shock and panic evident. “Honey, where's your engagement ring? What’s going on?” 

You knew the many answers and explanations to that question. The ring inched off your finger slowly, with every sip of alcohol he took, with every empty promise, and with every fight that ended in fresh tears. When your father voiced his concerns about your future with Jimin, the ring suddenly felt heavier than it ever had before. It felt like a wake up call, that this bad dream you had been subjected to couldbe over, despite it being painful to imagine. But you dared to imagine it, just briefly, and when you slid the ring off, it was like a breath of fresh air in your lungs. You felt free. 

But, as you stared at Jimin’s gorgeous features slipping into sadness, you didn’t have the heart to explain, or to answer. So you sat there, silent. Somehow, that was all the answer that Jimin needed. 

“Y/N, you can’t leave me, please.” He begged, holding on tightly to your hands with tears spilling down his face. “I’m trying. I’m really trying. I’m here, doing this for both of us. Please, angel, you have to stay with me. Please. I love you. You’re the love of my life, Y/N, you know that. Please. Please don’t go. I’m trying.” 

Jimin rambled apologies and begged for you, like a scared child who had their safety blanket taken away. It was like his ccomfort, his usually stable foundation, had been shaken. He was unprepared, and for the first time in his life, Jimin was truly, deeply afraid. 

“I know you’re trying.” You say, holding onto his hand as your own tears spill. “I’m trying, too.” 

——————————————————————

When you arrive back to Jung Kook’s apartment, the tears hadn’t subsided. If anything, time in the backseat of the SUV gave you ample opportunity to think, which in turn, just made the tears flow more freely. You had never felt so guilty before, bruising a heart that you had learned to call home. Jimin’s sweet, whispered words, his charming laugh, his tender touches, his morning kisses. They all seemed like things that would be impossible to even imagine going without. 

But his unstable nature, his unpredictability, and the seemingly never ending spinning loop that he had you on. These things seemed like things that would be impossible to even imagine spending the rest of your life with. When you took Jimin, you took all of him. But if you turn him away, you turn away all of him, too. It’s all, or it’s none. There is no in between. 

Jung Kook was on a call when you entered through the front door, the iPhone pressed up to his ear as he looked out the living room window.

“Yes, I’ll have your case on my desk for review tomorrow morning.” Jung Kook spoke, not yet aware of your presence. “Yes, Mr. Kim, please feel free to stop by tomorrow morning and we can look over your options. Thank you. Have a nice night.” 

He hung up the call, and turned around to see you with red cheeks and red eyes. He knew it had been your first granted meeting with Jimin today since he checked himself into treatment, and he imagined it would be a hard day. But seeing how devastated and small you looked in that moment, he could tell it was much more than a ‘hard day.’ But he didn’t want to waste time with questions, exhausting you more. Jung Kook walked over to you, and wrapped his arms around you in a comforting hug. 

Feeling him around you allowed for the dam that had been holding back some of your emotions to completely shatter. You sobbed, wrapping your arms around him as well and shook as you cried. Jung Kook just held you close, hoping it would be enough to keep you together as best as he could.

“Shhh, it’s ok.” He whispered, tucking your head into his chest, his lips rested at the top of your head, letting you cry into his hoodie. “You’re ok. I’ve got you.” 

“I just don’t know what I should do.” You said with words shaky through your unsteady breathing. 

“You can talk to me about anything, you know that, don’t you?” Jung Kook asked. “If you need to talk about it, you can.” 

You nodded, and kept your arms around him as you told him about the conversation that had happened. Jung Kook was stunned by what he heard, but there was a question that he couldn’t get off his mind, and that he knew he needed an answer to. 

“Can I ask, why did you take off your engagement ring?” 

“I was having doubts about… us.” You admitted, your chest bursting at the seams with guilt. “I love him, but I just don’t know…” 

“Hey, shhh. I understand.” Jung Kook hushed you gently. He pulled you ever so slightly away from his chest, just enough to make eye contact as he spoke. “You know what I think? I think you’re a lot like me, in that you try to take care of the people that you love, sometimes to your own detriment. Eomma used to scold me about that, and she told me that sometimes, you have to put your needs first, so that you can be the best version of yourself when you show up for those you love.” 

“I… I don’t know if I can do that.” You sniffled, wiping your years. 

“It is hard. Trust me, I know.” He admitted. “But, I think you should… Because I know that you deserve to be happy.” 

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

The Pumpkin Patch.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here, huns!

authors note - in honour of finally approaching october, enjoy this little mess that my brain magically comes up with when i’m bored…and lhh as a dad because that is simply girl dinner.

word count - 2k

in which, you and harry decide to take your son teddy to the pumpkin patch in honour of it finally hitting october, the three of you decide to make a day of things, and let’s just say the day doesn’t exactly turn out how you all expected it, a series of unfortunate events occur and that all starts out with your fiancé getting annoyed that the sat nav isn’t helping him very much.

trope: fiancé!harry x reader

October holds a special place in your heart, like no other month ever could. It was the month when you first embarked on a life-changing journey, leaving your homeland to pursue higher education in the United States. It was a time of excitement and trepidation, but little did you know that it would mark the beginning of countless beautiful memories.

During those university years, October became a symbol of friendship and camaraderie. It was when you met your lifelong friends, people who would stand by your side through thick and thin. Together, you navigated the challenges of academia, celebrated achievements, and forged bonds that would last a lifetime.

One particular October stands out vividly in your memory. It was the month of your graduation, a momentous occasion that your family didn't want to miss. They flew out to share in your joy and celebrate your accomplishments. Their presence made the milestone even more meaningful, filling your heart with warmth and love.

But the most extraordinary chapter of your life was written in the pages of an October. It was in Los Angeles, while browsing through a record shop, that you first laid eyes on Harry Styles. The connection was instant, as if fate had brought you together. In the midst of music and conversation, your love story began to unfold.

It was in October when he first whispered those three magical words, "I love you," after a night of watching a scary movie that left you clinging to his chest, finding comfort in his embrace. That moment of vulnerability deepened your bond and solidified your love for each other.

During a serene picnic in the park, surrounded by the beauty of autumn, Harry surprised you with a question that would change your lives forever. He asked you to move in with him, a gesture that symbolized commitment and a future together.

The circle of life continued to expand in October when your son, Theodore, affectionately known as Teddy, was born. The joy of parenthood brought immeasurable happiness and completeness to your lives, and the autumn leaves seemed to dance in celebration.

And then, in an enchanting October evening, Harry knelt down on one knee and proposed to you. Under the starry sky, he presented you with a ring, promising a lifetime of love, happiness, and adventures together. Tears of joy welled up in your eyes as you said yes, feeling like the luckiest person in the world.

October, with its vibrant colors and meaningful milestones, had become more than just a month on the calendar; it was a testament to the beauty of life, love, and the incredible journey you had embarked upon. It was safe to say that October had etched its place as your favorite month, forever holding the key to cherished memories and boundless love.

As you, Harry, and your almost two-year-old son Teddy set out for the pumpkin patch in Harry's sleek black Range Rover, there was an air of excitement in the car. The vibrant colours of autumn and the promise of pumpkin picking had everyone in high spirits. However, it didn't take long for things to take an unexpected turn.

Teddy, safely strapped into his car seat, began to cry, his little arms reaching out for his father. Seeing as Harry had been up all night comforting his baby boy who appeared to be getting his molars growing, he had tried everything, and the only thing that seemed to help the poor boy was to be cuddled up with both parents in their bed, with a teething toy in his grasp.

So, when the two of you woke up this morning, you had decided to take everyone’s tired minds off of things and have a fun little day out, but that didn’t seem to be going the way you had originally planned.

Harry couldn't easily comfort him, as he was engrossed in a battle with the aggravating sat nav system that seemed determined to make the journey anything but smooth.

You turned round in your seat and leaned over to Teddy, offering him a soothing voice, "Hey, ted. Daddy's driving right now, but he'll be with you soon. Look out the window, see the pretty leaves?"

Harry, growing increasingly frustrated, muttered, "S’thing is driving m’nuts. S’like a maze."

Teddy's cries persisted, and you rummaged in the bag for a toy to distract him. "Teddy, how about this colourful toy? Can you play with it?"

Harry let out another exasperated sigh, his eyes fixed on the sat nav screen. "All I want is t’find that pumpkin patch."

The journey went on like that for about another ten minutes before Harry finally got the hang of where the sat nav was trying to take him, and Theodore succumbed to silent sniffles when your fiancé reached his hand back and let his son hold onto his finger like he was a newborn all over again.

Theodore Styles was born just a year into the two of you officially dating, on October 18th, 2013. You and Harry were only nineteen. Although both of you were only young, you both had support from your family and friends and even though Harry’s job was a very demanding one, he always made sure to put the two of you first, so fast forward to October 2016 you were the perfect family unit and you were one step closer to becoming a Styles just like your other two boys.

As you, Harry, and Teddy finally pulled into the sprawling pumpkin patch, a sense of excitement filled the air. The fields were covered in a sea of vibrant orange, and the prospect of a fun-filled day lay ahead.

Driving through the muddy terrain, Teddy was securely strapped into his car seat, but his little face was pressed against the window. His bright eyes were wide with curiosity, and he couldn't contain his delight as he pointed at everything in his limited vocabulary, his baby talk filling the car.

"Look, Teddy," you exclaimed with enthusiasm, "those pumpkins are huge, aren't they?"

Teddy responded with bursts of infectious laughter, his tiny finger continuing to point at the pumpkins, each one seemingly more fascinating than the last. His joy was like a contagious wave that washed over the car.

Harry, his long hair falling in front of his eyes, expertly navigated the muddy path. He drove with one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on your thigh, occasionally glancing at Teddy's adorable antics.

"That's right, Teddy-Bear," Harry chimed in, his voice filled with affection, "those pumpkins are as big as y’are!"

The car rolled on, winding through the pumpkin-filled fields. Teddy's laughter and baby talk were a constant source of amusement, brightening the atmosphere in the car.

You couldn't help but join in the excitement. "Teddy, do you see those scarecrows over there? They're guarding the pumpkins!"

Teddy's laughter escalated as he looked at the scarecrows, his tiny hands reaching out toward them. His innocent joy made the entire journey worthwhile.

Harry put the car into park and turned to you. "Alrigh’ m’love,"

As you worked on getting Teddy out of his car seat, Harry made his way to the trunk. He looked at you, holding the baby bag, and asked, "Do y’think we'll need t’stroller?"

You considered for a moment, remembering that Teddy hadn't slept well during the night. You nodded, knowing that he might get tired later. "Yeah, H, I think it's a good idea. Just in case."

Harry nodded in agreement and began setting up the stroller while you gently unstrapped Teddy from his car seat. He wriggled out of your arms, his little welly boots and beanie adding to his adorable appearance.

With Teddy on the ground, you smiled down at him. "Look at you, ready for some pumpkin picking, little man!"

Harry, now with his hair tied into a man bun to keep it out of his face, locked up the car. He glanced at Teddy and then at you. "Alrigh’, s’make some pumpkin memories."

As the three of you approached the entrance to the patch, The stroller stood empty as Harry navigated it through the muddy pumpkin fields.

Teddy, in his infectious excitement, was far too eager to explore on his own. Instead, you held onto his tiny hands, and he practically pulled you along, his chubby legs wading through the mud, creating tiny boot imprints with each step.

The pumpkin patch sprawled before you, a vast sea of orange and green. Teddy's eyes danced with wonder as he darted from one pumpkin to another, each one seemingly more fascinating than the last. His little voice bubbled with delight, even though his words were a jumble of baby talk and giggles.

Harry manoeuvred the stroller skillfully, occasionally glancing over to check on Teddy's progress. Teddy's tiny boots splashed through puddles, his beanie bobbing atop his head as he explored this pumpkin wonderland.

You marvelled at the sheer joy radiating from your son. Holding his hands, you let him lead the way, following his excited tugs and twirls. The mud-splattered boots and the occasional stumble didn't dampen Teddy's enthusiasm in the slightest.

About fifteen minutes into your visit to the pumpkin patch, you found yourselves standing in front of a scarecrow, admiring its rustic charm. Teddy, so far, had been on a mission to pick up every pumpkin he walked by, not quite grasping the concept of a pumpkin patch and getting upset when you told him that you needed to find the perfect pumpkin before heading home.

As you were enjoying this quaint moment, a friendly woman from another family who was passing by noticed your trio. She offered with a warm smile, "Would you like a photo of the three of you by the scarecrow?"

Harry didn't hesitate for a moment. He beamed and said,

"Yes, please!" as he quickly handed the woman his phone, which was already open on the camera. He gently scooped Teddy into his arms, holding him on his hip, and then wrapped his free arm around your shoulder.

The woman skillfully captured the moment, ensuring you were all framed by the scarecrow and the vibrant pumpkin patch behind you. Teddy, still clutching a small pumpkin in his chubby hand, looked at the camera with curiosity, and his innocent smile added an extra layer of charm to the photo.

After the picture was taken, you thanked the kind stranger, and Harry, still holding Teddy, shared a grateful smile with her.

Ten minutes after Teddy's encounter with the scarecrow, the pumpkin patch adventure continued, with Teddy now running ahead of you and Harry. His tiny legs carried him with an uncontainable exuberance as he darted between pumpkins, each one a new discovery in his eyes.

You pushed the stroller, its wheels rolling through the earthy paths, while Harry walked beside you, holding your hand. Both of you watched Teddy with hearts full of fondness as he explored this autumn wonderland. His laughter was a symphony of joy, filling the air and brightening your day even more.

The pumpkin patch seemed to be Teddy's playground, a place where he could express his boundless curiosity and energy.

About five meters ahead of both you and Harry, Teddy suddenly stopped in his tracks, captivated by a rather large pumpkin. It seemed to be the biggest one he had seen so far, and his little hands eagerly reached out to try and pick it up. However, it was a challenge even for his determined efforts.

Harry and you shared a chuckle at Teddy's determined endeavour. He didn't give up, though, and instead, he called out to Harry in his adorable baby talk, "Dada, hep! Hep, Dada!"

Harry couldn't resist the plea, and with a playful grin, he made his way over to Teddy. Together, father and son wrestled with the pumpkin, their laughter filling the crisp autumn air.

While they worked on the perfect pumpkin, you put the brakes on the stroller and crouched down in front of your little boy. You asked in a sweet baby talk, "Is this the pumpkin you definitely want, Teddy?"

Teddy nodded his head vigorously, a bright smile on his face. He wrapped his little arm around your neck, expressing his delight and contentment with the choice

“S’settled then,” Harry grinned up at you, holding the pumpkin in his tattooed arms. “Fancy grabbing a coffee at the lil’hut before heading off? God knows we need it.”

[treepainting]

Oooooh

Oh oh oh

I just read some dpxdc AU’s back to back and while reading a Damian/danny thing right after a twin au thing which then reminded me of a Dead on Main forced arranged marriage au I’d read right before and I’m gonna Mix Them Together

So- Danny and Damian are twins. They were really close and then something happens to separate them

(Danny dies and lives out his best ghost life, Clockwork gets his hands in things and sends Danny to another place/universe so that time runs smoothly, Danny manages to escape on his own/talia helps him, hell- maybe he just trips into the Lazarus Pits and he gets reborn [it would be kinda trippy for everyone if he ends up being reborn at the same time he was actually born, time shenanigans ya know?] so then we get Actual Little Brother Danny and Older Brother Damian rather than twin older/younger brother dynamics [mostly])

SO BACK TO MY IDEA

Whatever happened to separate them happens and then some cult or something offers someone as a bride to some ancient deity they found in like, a necronomicon or something, where they can offer someone’s hand in marriage to earn favor with the deity/as a way to control them, they could either use one of their own, kidnap someone, or even some random kid(extra angst if it’s one one their own kids)

So- the bats get involved to keep the group from doing whatever nefarious plans they thought up and Jason managed to get whoever it is out of the ritual circle but wasn’t fast enough to get themselves out, so he ends up disappearing in a concussive flash of Lazarus green light

Queue Danny meeting his magically bound fiancé

Danny and Jason end up getting along Really Well, they 100% hit it off once Jason is sure Danny isn’t trying to pull something. They work to find a way to un bind themselves from the fiancé thing and Danny fixes/finds a way to fix Jason’s pit madness, all the while having ghostly problems/issues that just so happen to make their bond grow deeper until they decide to hell with it! Let’s just get married!

And all the while the batfam are going nuts over trying to get Jason back

I’m gonna say that time between one dimension to another, and especially in the Infinite Realms is kinda wonky (so if Danny’s ’home’ dimension is different from the Bats’ Jason could meet the family without his own family knowing about it)

I just wanna make sure that Danny and Jason’s romance doesn’t get rushed ok? Ok

So- the bats manage to summon him back, and Jason’s the most relaxed anyones seen him since he died, they talk a bit, Jason’s kinda annoyed

Then eldrich Danny shows up

He either materializes out of nothing or Danny manages to find the ritual circle that was used and tears it open with a giant claw to find Jason

Once he’s there and sees that Jason is fine, but before shifting back into his more human form he goes ‘Dami?’ In an eldritch voice and the tone of voice, the inflection reminds him of something no, of someone

‘Danyal?’

And the eldritch beings form Shifts into something more recognizable even as a long black tail it has in place of legs wraps around Jason’s middle

That’s pretty much all I have! Oops, I didn’t really think that it would end up as a cliffhanger, my bad! But also, just imagine the whole adopted brother is in a relationship with my younger twin shenanigans that would happen, Dami would be so protective and jealous of all of the attention (from Danny) that isn’t getting directed at him

[u10como]

"Perils of High Society"

Brooke and Mark were dating for a year now. They met when they were both still college students working at McDonald's and immediately came to like each other. Mark never liked to talk about his family, so Brooke never pushed him too much, until one day he confessed: Mark was actually Marcus Bancroft-Agnelli, the heir to large hotel empire, who decided to handle his own life during studies, not relying on his family fortune. When asked about why he doesn't want Brooke to meet his parents He explained: His family has an odd tradition: All women in the Bancroft-Agnelli family had their arms amputated when they hit puberty, to signify their status of perfect trophy wives: Their bare armless shoulders proudly displaying the fact they never have to resort to manual labour - and never will. "Pretty terrible, right?" said Mark "Actually, " said Brooke, "It's kinda hot, you know?" "A what?" "Can you imagine me without arms? I mean, wouldn't i look really elegant? And if that's what it takes to meet your parents..." "Baby, you don't need to do that, i don't need you to be part of my family, in fact, i don't really want to be part of them myself..." "I know, but... i kinda want to, you know? I don't think i would be very much of a 'trophy wife' anyway, as that sounds a little posh and lazy and i would prefer to learn how to use my feet rather than just stand around being pretty, but i could do without my arms i guess..."

Two months later, Mark and Brooke came to attend a party at one of Bancroft-Agnelli five star hotels. Brooke, still feeling a little clumsy, but proud of her armless shoulders, was overwhelmed by everything around her. Being born in rural area just outside the city, she wasn't used to being anywhere this fancy and nothing Mark told her could prepare her for the reality. Entering the hotel's ballroom, they were aproached by two women: One young, dressed in grey uniform with white gloves, the other about fifty years old, with aura of authority and perceived superiority, dressed in white and gold, the dress showing her perfectly smooth armless shoulders.

"Mom, this is my fiancée, Brooke Miller. Brooke, meet my mother, Beatrice Bancroft-Agnelli" "Pleased to meet you, dear. I see my son finally came to senses and found himself a woman befitting of a proper Bancroft-Agnelli man." said Beatrice to Mark's annoyed eyeroll. "Pleased to meet you, ma'am" said Brooke, twitching her right shoulder in an instinct to accompany the greeting with a handshake." Looking at Brooke's gesture with a mix of surprise and disgust, Beatrice replied: "Oh dear, but look at you, you hold your body like an arm person!" "Mom..." Hissed Mark. "And those scars! Oh my goodness, did a butcher do that to you? I could have refered you to our family surgeon in France, his handiwork is ex-qui-site, you know? He would never leave ugly scars like these behind." "MOM.." said Mark, now significantly louder. "And that make-up, dear oh dear... I would fire that maid who did that to you, such a shoddy job..." "Ahem... Actually," replied Brooke before Mark could interject again, "I did that myself - i mean, it's not perfect, but applying make-up with a foot is harder than i thought..." "You did what?" said Beatrice with overly dramatic expression, her eyebrows so high up they could pop out of her forehead any second. "Oh my lord, sweetheart, you aren't some common working class cripple or..." "MOM! That's enough! Come on, Brooke, we're leaving!" Yelled Mark to his mother's astonishment and put his arm around Brooke's shoulders in a protective gesture, guiding her swiftly away towards the elevator. "I'm sorry, did i say something wrong?" asked Brooke with surprised expression and hint of tears in her eyes. "Not you sweetheart." replied Mark, visibly angry, but keeping his voice down not to upset Brooke even more. "She did!"

[sadnymi]

"My Dreams Are Just Dreams... Until They're Not" modern Mattheo riddle × reader [chapter 5]

[previous chapter][Next chapter]

Note : this chapter can be read as a standalone

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language,childhood trauma ,abusing, cheating, angst, death, sexual harassment ( not the main characters)

Please understand that this chapter will delve into darker themes. I urge you to pay close attention to the trigger warnings provided.

words: 3,971

Reading Time : 14mins 26sec

Summery: A week at my best friend's beach house, surrounded by our friends as we meet her soon-to-be fiancé's companions, marks a turning point where the very fabric of my beliefs begins to unravel. It's during this week that I encounter the boy who incessantly appears in my dreams, blurring the distinction between the world of my subconscious and the tangible reality before me. Matthe Riddle emerges as the poison I willingly imbibe, a curse that feels akin to a dream, weaving its tendrils into the very essence of my being.

In the labyrinth of our minds, there exists a chamber where memories are stored,

guarded by a sentinel of the soul. This guardian, born of instinct and necessity, shields us from the piercing arrows of past pain.

It enshrouds our recollections in a veil of forgetfulness, concealing them from our conscious sight.

Yet beyond this protective veil lies a deeper truth—a truth of scars left untended, wounds left unhealed.

Shielding us from the torment of certain memories, like the haunting recollection of my own death .

My name is y/n Celestia daughter of Seraphina Celestia and Leopold Celestia

"My Dark Lord," my stepfather bowed reverently, and I followed suit, mimicking the formal gesture. "Allow me to introduce you to my wife, Seraphina Celestia, and my stepdaughter, Y/N Celestia." I lowered my head in acknowledgment, following the protocol instilled by my mother.

I was only eight when I first saw him, the young boy standing next to the dark lord with so much pride , observing us with an inscrutable gaze.

"Daughter of Leopold Celestia," our lord addressed me, rising from his seat and approaching us. "The heir of the Celestia family."

"I promise to protect her until she comprehends her role, my lord," my stepfather pledged, his voice resolute as he affirmed his duty to safeguard me until I reached maturity.

And that's when I realized my cue to depart had arrived. Mother's words echoed in my mind, admonishing me never to bring shame upon our family. I was to comport myself as befitting a princess, fulfilling the expectations laid upon me. I had made a solemn vow to Mother—to be obedient and dutiful in all things.

As I lingered in the adjacent chamber, awaiting their return, he appeared and settled beside me. "He's not your father?" he inquired gently.

"No, my father died before I was born " I responded matter-of-factly, devoid of the sting of grief or the weight of sorrow. "Mother deemed him a coward, claiming his demise stemmed from weakness and his inability to protect us."

He regarded me with a mixture of confusion and curiosity, giving me more attention than anyone ever did "And she believes your stepfather to be an improvement? That he is stronger and will safeguard You ?"

"I am bound to obey her," I murmured softly, casting a cautious glance over my shoulder to ensure our conversation remained private.

"So, do you like her ?" he probed, his lips curling into a knowing smile.

"Mother insists that in this world, emotions must be set aside," I replied, my tone tinged with resignation.

"She’s so annoying ," he remarked, prompting a rare burst of laughter from my lips. "What's so amusing?"

"I find her annoying , too," I confessed, still scanning our surroundings for any prying ears.

"And what of you? Do you hold affection for your mother?" I ventured, seeking to reciprocate his candor.

"I hardly know anything about her," he admitted

"I'm sorry," I offered sympathetically.

"Don't be," he replied with a shrug. "I doubt I'm missing much."

His response elicited another smile from me, a glimmer of camaraderie shared amidst the confines of our respective familial burdens.

"What about your father?" I inquired.

"We're good,"

"Do you obey him?"

"It's more of an understanding between us," he explained.

"Has he... has he ever hurt you?" I whispered softly, afraid of my own voice reaching the wrong ears and causing trouble.

"Of course not. Does yours?" he asked with genuine concern.

"When I do something wrong," I admitted, looking away. His hands found mine, and as our eyes met, I noticed the red bruise from yesterday. Panic set in, but his reassuring grip eased my anxiety. "He's the one who did this,? " I nodded hesitantly , then he squeezed my hand comfortingly.

"Don't be afraid, Y/N."

Come on, Y/N, we need to hurry if want to see where the hat will place the newcomers," Sarah's voice echoed from outside my dorm. I pulled away from the kiss with Mattheo, trying to compose myself.

"Yeah, just give me a minute," I replied,giving him a warming glance to not make any sound and trying to sound normal as much as I can

"You need to go, Mattheo, right now," I whispered urgently, breaking away from him once more.

He leaned in to give me one final kiss before responding, "Tell her to fuck off." His playful tone didn't match the seriousness in his eyes.

"Don't be so rude," I chided, cupping my face he smiled softly “ I will need to have a word with Lorenzo about how a cock blocker his girlfriend is “ I blushed and smiled shyly at him I was still a virgin we were seventeen but the topic still made me nervous Sarah said she did it with Lorenzo penny did too they said it’s wasn’t even that painful and after the first time it’s only about the pleasure , Mattheo never pushed me, giving me the time I needed.

"Y/N, I swear to God," Sarah's voice grew impatient, and I called back that I was coming. Grappling my scarf, I hurriedly put it on, realizing I had no time for makeup to conceal the red marks left by the boy smirking at my struggle.

But then it happened—I forgot to hide my sleeves. Panic gripped me as I noticed that where his eyes were on, Mattheo touched my hands softly, his expression turning from anger to hurt.

"You said he had stopped," he said, with me trying to hide my hands again Tears welled up at the sight of the pain in his voice.

"Mattheo, please," I whispered, shaking my head. "He didn't mean to, I—"

"I'm going to fucking kill him "

"I want one," I whispered, my head still resting on his chest."Why can't I have one right now?"

"Someday, baby," he replied, his voice soft and reassuring.

"Why not now? Because I'm useless to the Dark Lord? Sarah joined the Death Eaters, Penny is going to..." My voice trailed off, frustration tainting my words.

"You are not useless," he said firmly, sitting up straight and meeting my gaze with seriousness. "Someday, I will let you rule this whole thing."

A smile spread across my face at his words. "You're so sweet."

"Oh, Lord, don't call me sweet in front of anyone, or I will have to kill them," he teased, eliciting a laugh from me.

"You know, I'm starting to get offended by you always wearing red," he remarked after a moments of silence .

"It's just a color, baby," I replied, trying to brush it off . But deep down, I knew it was more than just a color. Some wounds take longer to heal than others, and some keep on bleeding long after. Wearing red was my way of concealing the scars, a reminder of the battles I've fought and the pain I've endured.

cuddling within his embrace, I savored the peaceful moment, surrendering myself to the security of his arms enveloping me.

I tilted my head, resting my chin upon his chest, allowing myself the luxury of studying his striking countenance. Every contour, every scar, every nuance of his face captivated my attention, as I immersed myself fully in the sight of his handsome features

“ matt ? “

“ yes love ? “

“I'd love you until my last breath”

At my mother's funeral, I stand as a solitary figure, ensnared by a profound numbness that eclipses the mournful symphony of raindrops around me. The gray clouds and cascading rain envelop me in an abyss of numbing sorrow, the sting of her disdain piercing through me despite her cruelty.

*I feel utterly alone, adrift in an ocean of pain and loss, burdened by the weight of a secret I dare not share with anyone.*

The truth about my father's death, recalling the last conversation I had with my mother. I shake my head, taking hesitant steps back, hoping no one notices my absence at her funeral.

Then, I run. Far away from the somber voices and vacant stares, seeking solace beneath the shelter of a tree, I close my eyes, trying to catch my breath.

"Y/N," a voice interrupts my solitude, and I startle at the sight of him standing before me.

"What are you doing here? You shouldn't be here," I exclaim, my voice trembling with fear as I scan the area, ensuring no one else is nearby.

"Calm down, it's okay," he reassures me, brushing away my tears with a gentle touch. "I would kill anyone who dares to interrupt and puts that terrified look on your face."

I know he means it, and that's precisely what terrifies me.

"Please, Matt," “ you know how dangerous it is , if anyone saw you with you “

we do know, as the heir of Slytherin he cannot have a weakness no one should know about our relationship people in our world will use it against him taking advantage of the situation , my voice barely above a whisper. With one hand, he pulls me closer, wrapping his arms around me, and I rest my head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

"It's okay," he murmurs into my hair, placing soft kisses there.

“ y/n ? “

“ yes matt “

"I know you're hiding something."

"I will talk to my father,I will ask him for permission to kill him."

"He's a loyal soldier to your father; he won't just allow it," I shook my head, standing up and making my way toward him.

"I hate the thought of you with him in the same house."

"He stopped hitting me, I promise," I tried to avoid his gaze. He knew me so well, even without speaking. He could feel my pain as much as I could feel his. Our souls had a language of their own, and he would catch my lies.

"Then I would just do it."

"No, no, stop it, mate, please."

Walking back and forth, his hands tangled in his hair, I approached him, attempting to calm him down. I reached out for his hands, hoping them with mine

"Then marry me," I took a step back, trying to understand his words.

"What?"

"Marry me. We are old enough now. Marry me, and I will tell my father I will do it your way. I will let him plan a wedding. I will—"

"I can't let you do it. They will ruin you. Those people will do anything to take your place. Even if that’s mean using me to get to you, No, God, I don't even trust your father enough. "

"Stop thinking about anyone else for a goddamn minute," he walked away, yelling angrily. "Stop caring about anyone else. I'm tired of holding back; I feel like you're tying my hands."

"So what? Let you go and hit my stepfather to death like last time? And then stand there trying to explain why you did it, blaming it on a misunderstanding. You know what happened last time."

“"No, I don't," he replied, his gaze piercing with anger. I despised the fact that we are fighting

"Please, I don't want to fight," I sighed, closing my eyes. I hoped that whatever was wrong between us would dissipate when I opened them again.

"And I'm tired of you always running instead of facing the situation. This weakness you've convinced yourself of is just an illusion, cause deep down you can’t move on from being

the little girl who was afraid to disobey him," he retorted with frustration.

"That's it, the tears I was holding, I couldn't contain them anymore. I pushed him away from me, crying heavily.

"Baby, I didn't—" he realized his own words, attempting to hold me. I pulled away, screaming, "Don't you dare fucking touch me," trying to reach the door.

Just as I was about to pass his tall frame, Mattheo moved his arm quickly to block my way. He didn't touch me, only reaching for the wall to stop me from leaving . I flinched, and squeezed my eyes shut while raising my arms in front of my face. My body expected a hit as my mind told me that I just made a fool out of myself.

Silence fell around us. Realizing what i just did , I was ashamed, and the hurt in his eyes made me sob heavily.

"Baby," he came closer, and I was shaking.

"I would never... never hurt you. Did you think I was going to?" Pain, a lot of pain, echoed in his voice and eyes, and it was all my fault.

"I'm so, so sorry. I know you would never. Please don't be hurt. I'm so sorry," saying while sobbing

"Stop apologizing, baby, please," he uttered softly, bridging the gap between us. His hand extended tentatively, wary of any residual fear.

"I would never hurt you, love " he reassured me. Our fingers intertwined, a subtle tug pulling me closer, and I wrapped my arms around him, letting the tears wet his t-shirt.

"I know. I'm so sorry," I repeated, taking a step to look into his eyes just for him to cup my face softly.

"I would burn any hand that ever thought about touching a strand of your hair. The thought of you being hurt makes me want to burn them all down. I would never hurt you, baby."

"I didn't know why I reacted like that. I'm so sorry. It's like my body has a reaction of its own," I confessed, and he kissed my forehead while wiping my tears away.

"No, it's all my fault. I shouldn't have yelled like that. I shouldn't have scared you. Fucking hell, I'm so sorry, baby," he apologized, and I nodded, letting him kiss me softly, his lips moving cautiously with mine.

"We both were. I let what happened get to me, and I'm sorry. I think we need a break—" he tried to talk, but I shook my head.

Please, Matt, I hurt you. You hurt me I think we need some time to calm down ," I pleaded.

"You didn't hurt me," he insisted.

"I will see you at the beach house. He agreed to go this year as well. I will come to Sarah's once you arrive. We'll go earlier; he has an early business," I explained.

"Baby—" he began.

"It's okay, Matt ," I stepped back, going to the door, turned around one last time,

"I love you." He said it softly like a prayer with his eyes on mine , and my tears ran once more.

Once Sarah saw me, she got away from Lorenzo. "Are you okay?" I nodded, wiping my tears away. "Can you take me home?"

Being at the beach house this year without my mother was a new experience, the absence of her presence leaving the house darker, more sinister, as if it had taken on her essence. I tried to maintain a deliberate distance between myself and the monster I had to tolerate, struggling to divert my attention to the rhythmic sounds of the ocean and the invigorating breeze. I resisted the urge to reach out to Mattheo, to ask Sarah about him.

"What are you doing?" His voice cut through the air like a knife, and I hated the tremor that ran through my body.

"Just reading," I replied without turning around, feeling his hand on my shoulder in the most unsettling way. He had never touched me like that before, and I felt disgusted.

"Did you spread your legs for him, princess?" His words were like venom, and I recoiled, taking a step back.

"What?" I managed to utter, my heart racing with fear and confusion.

"Don't act so innocent. I know what's going on between you two. I wasn't sure until he almost killed me that night I hit that pretty face of yours. I did that on purpose, you know?" His smirk made my skin crawl, and I instinctively moved towards the door, trying not to alert him.

"You're sick," I shot back, my voice trembling as I attempted to make my way to the door without drawing attention.

"You know that time I brought those women to the house in front of your whore of a mother? I was thinking of you the whole time while fucking them," he taunted, his words like daggers piercing my soul. "Sometimes I think about him fucking you as well, my princess, my innocent girl."

I ran to the door, screaming, when he grabbed my hair so hard that tears sprang to my eyes immediately.

"Look at this skin, so soft, and that fucking body," he murmured, his grip tightening as I struggled against him trying to fight him as much as I could

"He will kill you. He will fucking kill you, and I will let him. I will stand here watching him burn you alive, and I will watch every single second of it." I shouted at him believing every single word of it

"Shut up, you stupid slut," he spat venomously, his words like acid burning through my soul.

"It's about time he arrived with Sarah. I will tell him. I will let him burn you alive, you fucking monster," he continued, pulling me even harder until I felt like he would tear me apart. He threw me onto the sofa, hitting me in the face before gripping it so tightly it felt like my bones would shatter.

"so bad we'll be already dead before that," he taunted, relishing in my fear and confusion. "Oh, how I love that look. It's almost the same as your father's before I put that dagger in his heart, and the same as your mother's before I choked her to death. Your stupid, stupid mother thought I needed power and you needed a father. It didn't take her long to agree, to hand you to me on a golden plate," he sneered, his words dripping with malice.

"He's going to kill you either way," I retorted defiantly, refusing to cry as I met his gaze with anger and frustration.

"Will he, princess ? Then you won't get rid of me because I'll search for you in death too," I threatened, my hand holding my hair clip With lightning speed, I lunged at him, aiming for his neck, and he screamed as it pierced his skin.

Seizing the opportunity, I scrambled to my feet and made a run for it, he caught me by my leg

and I kicked him as hard as I could, trying to break free. He locked the doors with a fucking spell , trapping me inside, and panic surged through me as I realized he must have planned it all along.

I pulled my phone and run straight to my room decided to get out through the window or the roof

Grabbing my phone and running straight to my room locking the door behind me “Alohomora” I said but nothing happened “Alohomora” I screamed it again but the window is still closed he must have put a spell to make sure I can’t use it trying to calm myself down I grabbing my phone, I dialed Mattheo's number, my voice trembling as I spoke.

"Mattheo, you were right," I confessed, my heart pounding with fear. "He should have died."

"I'm on my way," he assured me, his voice filled with urgency.

"I think it's too late—I just wanted to say it back," I whispered, tears stinging my eyes as I struggled to open the window. "I love you. I love you so, so much. From the first time I saw you, you were the most precious thing I ever had. I love you, and I will love you in every life I live. I love you. I don't want to die without saying it one last time."

"You're not going to fucking die baby I’m coming hold on for me okay? " he replied firmly, and i river of tears started to fall

I ended the call, tossing the phone aside, and focused on finding a way out, my heart filled with determination and love

Unlocking the room, I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what lay ahead. With no sign of him, I moved carefully downstairs

“ princess come here , I promise I will forgive you for that small accident “

“ you can’t hide forever princess “

Close your eyes and breathe he can’t hurt you- if you can’t see him that’s mean he won’t be able to see you

“ comon , daddy hates waiting princess, he’s going to punish you when he finds you “ shut up - shut up - shut up

Then I hear it—the sound of his steps, each one drawing him nearer and nearer

“ he’s not coming you mean nothing to him you know? Why would the heir of the most powerful house care about someone insignificant, someone so worthless like you “

“ liar “ I screamed and then it was red all over again all I saw was red

I I brandished my wand and shouted, "Incendio!" The flames engulfed the house swiftly, consuming every inch of it in a fiery embrace.

"Stupid bitch," I muttered under my breath, knowing he couldn't use a spell on me directly. If he wanted my death to appear normal, he couldn't risk casting any spells on me. That's why he had put a spell on the house, making it impossible for me to utter the spell that could have been able to kill him

"Alohomora" he yelled, and all the doors unlocked. I sprinted towards the kitchen door, fleeing the inferno, blood from my nose and lips staining my trembling hands.

Glancing back, I saw no sign of him before finally escaping. However, just as I thought I was in the clear, a heavy pain and the choking sensation of my own blood overcame me. Falling to my knees, I noticed a knife protruding from my back, its blade emerging on the other side.

In agony, I screamed as I pulled the knife even deeper. "Thank you, princess," he uttered, kissing my forehead. "I'll tell them you died bravely, and I promise to take care of your inheritance."

He got up, and the cruel realization hit me that the last thing I might see before death was his sinister face. Collapsing to the ground, I screamed for the last time, my voice giving up. I felt the onset of death, a gradual release of my grip on my soul.

In those final moments, I thought of my friends, the things left unsaid, but most of all, I thought of Mattheo – my sweet Mattheo, the only love I had ever known. I wished to see his face one last time, contemplating all the things we never got the chance to do.

Suddenly, I felt hands on me, perhaps imagined, as he softly wiped away tears and blood from my face.

"I once said I'd love you until my last breath, didn't I?" I mustered a weak smile, extending my shaking hand to hold his on my face.

"You're not going to die," he insisted, and I prayed to see him clearly one more time.

"You're not going to die, love. I won't allow it. Keep those beautiful eyes on me, okay?"

I struggled to keep my eyes open, but darkness descended rapidly, making each breath a challenging task.

“ I’m so sorry “ kissing my forehead , my hands, and I never wanted to be alive as much as I do right now

"I'm going to fix it, love. I'm going to fix everything, I promise."

Clutching onto the sound of his voice, I felt everything fade into darkness.

Tag list :

@hereticdance

[slytherinlives]

I'm two years late to the party but here they are! The core four of my Legacy MC's. (there's two more but I wanted to focus on one from each house)

Kathryn Knight:

Kathryn is a half-blood witch who grew up in a small village in the countryside of France. Her mother Mary is a muggle florist and her father Theodore is a well respected auror within the wizarding community. For the first fifteen years of her life, Kathryn was considered to be non-magical by her father, knowing it was possible for children born of a muggle parent to not have magic. The summer she turned sixteen, Kathryn was helping her mother tend to their garden and got frustrated by a willow tree sapling not growing and a burst of magic flew from her fingertips, causing the tree to grow to full size. The incident caused gossip amongst the villagers and the Knight family moved to London, where she received her admittance letter to Hogwarts to start her fifth year.

You can read Kathryn's story here or here where you can follow along Kathryn's journey as she takes on her Seventh Year as a a Prefect, Hufflepuff Quidditch Seeker and the return of Sebastian and Anne Sallow as she tackles returning feelings and new mysteries.

(Sebastian x Kathryn romance)

(My other Hufflepuff MC Kallum Finchley makes cameo appearances as a beater for the Quidditch team, although he does not have the ancient magic ability for the sake of the story.)

Lyra and Lyle Grey:

Lyra and Lyle grew up in a whirlwind of life. Their mother Marlena uprooted them and their younger brother Luca from their home often, moving to various cities and countries and never staying in one place for too long.

Lyle is very protective of his twin sister, often scolding her for being reckless and putting herself in danger. He can be intimidating and stand-offish toward others, only showing warmth toward his siblings. Lyle loves learning new things and often holds the opposite view of his twin. He prefers to make calculated moves and often chooses more violent methods in a fight. Lyle is fiercely loyal to those he cares about but isn't afraid to be blunt and honest when needed.

Lyra thrives on new adventure and discoveries. She often gets herself into trouble due to her impulsive nature, which adds stress onto her twin brother. Lyra grew up as the only daughter in the family and her mother always scolded her for not being lady-like, often telling her she needed to behave more proper if she were to be wed one day. Lyra wants more for her life than a settled one, which puts her in conflict with her mother.

Their mother Marlena introduced a new fiancé to the twins that ended in a physical altercation, causing both of their magic to present as a means to protect the other.

You can read their story here or here as you follow along their journey of returning to Hogwarts for their sixth year, alongside their younger brother starting his first year. Lyra wants to learn more about the repository magic to help cure Anne Sallow, while her twin brother Lyle wants to open it as a means to protect his family.

(Eventual Sebastian x Lyra romance)

This is a multi pov story with most of the story taking place from Lyra's pov.

Jaina Cleary:

Jaina grew up in an orphanage with her older brother, who disappeared after his twelfth birthday. Jaina spent many years trying to find him but kept getting road blocked. She grew to be bitter and cold toward others and doesn't open up to them easily. Jaina isn't afraid to do what's necessary as opposed to what is right, which causes concern in others. Jaina is loyal to those she finds herself content with, and doesn't mind letting herself wind down and just be kid with them.

Jaina spent most of her life having to be a grown up and often gets annoyed by other children, but with her new friends at Hogwarts, she's slowly come to terms that it's okay for herself to be one sometimes too.

Her story is in the works, but may not come out for some time as I try to finish the others that I am way too behind on.

I hope you guys love them as much as I do <3

[i-am-baechu]

♡ Summary: Yoongi was always known as the bad boy even after graduation. It was annoying but Y/N didn’t care because she saw him as her loveable boyfriend, wait no...fiancé. 

♡ Paring: Established relationship; Pureblood Slytherin! Yoongi x Muggle Born Ravenclaw! Reader

♡ Rating: Explicit (18+) 

♡ Genre: Established relationship, Harry Potter Au, smut, little angst and fluff

♡ Based on the one-shot; Eyes On Me

“Yoongi, why did you let them get to you?”

“Y/N, I wasn’t going to let them talk shit about you.”

The couple walked down Diagon Alley in a hurry. Y/N just wanted some ice cream after their date and Yoongi would never say no to her. What they didn’t know was that one of the purebloods from school was working there and he proceeded to make fun of Y/N. Y/N, didn’t care. She was used to this behavior, Yoongi on the other hand wasn’t. It’s been five years and you would think Yoongi would’ve lost the bad boy image. He dyed his hair blonde to make him look softer but the earrings in his ear still scared people off (also the glare that was almost always on his face, didn’ help). Hoseok and Namjoon made fun of him because of his hair but they understood why he did it. He wanted to look softer for Y/N.

Yoongi grabbed her hand and they apparate to their home. Yoongi tossed his leather jacket onto the couch and headed into the kitchen while Y/N watched him with worried eyes. He opened the fridge and he felt arms around his waist, letting out the deep breath that he didn’t know he was holding in. He placed his hand on top of hers as he continued to stare into the fridge with a blank expression, “Yoongi, I don’t want you to fight people because of me...you can get hurt.” 

“People can’t talk shit about my fiancé.”

“Fiancé!?” 

He curses under his breath and he gently removes her arms to turn to face her.  He rubbed the back of his neck as he felt his face get warm, “Fuck, I didn’t want it like this...”

“Yoongi?”

He sighed and went down on one knee as she watched with wide eyes. He pulled out a velvet box and opened it to reveal a beautiful ring. It was a medium size pearl with diamonds around it, they were so clear that it made her think of mountain water. She glanced at the ring and then at Yoongi who was looking at her with a red face, “I-I’ve been in love with you since I saw you in the bookstore...since I was eleven, fuck that’s crazy to think. The moment I saw you, everything kind of made sense? I loved you for so long that it’s crazy. You’re the only woman for me and I couldn’t imagine my life without you...Y/N will you marry me?” 

Her eyes widened at the question but it quickly softened, “Can Jungkook be my maid of honor?” 

He let out a chuckle as he watched a tear escape her eye, “Yes...Jimin can also be up there with you.” 

“I want Jin to be there too...”

“You want that idiot there.” 

“Don’t call him that, he's one of my best friends.” 

“Baby, he’s still an idiot. So...does that mean you will marry me?” 

She let out a small laugh and put her hand out, “I would love to be your wife, Min Yoongi.” 

Yoongi clumsily took the ring out of the box and placed it on her finger. He picked her up and spun her around the small kitchen as her giggles filled the room. When they stopped, Y/N gently cupped his face as their foreheads rested on each other. The only thing they could see was pure joy. She leaned up giving him a quick kiss but that’s not what he wanted. He gently swept her off her feet and her back gently came into contact with the wall. Yoongi’s lips quickly found hers. Y/N’s eyes widened at the sudden action but they slowly closed, relishing in the kiss. He wrapped her legs around his waist, in fear that she would fall. He wouldn’t want his girl-fiance get hurt. 

His hands traveled up thighs and then to her ass. His eyes widened and snickered against her lips, “No underwear?”

“I-It would’ve shown...I-I wanted to look nice.”

“My fiancé always looks nice.” The moment Yoongi’s fingertips touched her folds, she jumped. Even though they’ve been together for about six years, she’s never used to having sex. He was her first love and well, first for everything. As cliche as it is, he was her everything. 

“My fiancé, fuck.” Yoongi grinned as he started to trail his kisses along her neck. He loved this part because she would make the most beautiful nosies. It was truly music to his ears. His fingers started to play with her folds and her head fell forward into his shoulder, “Yo-Yoongi.” 

Yoongi groaned at the sound of his name and grinded his hips against her bare pussy as he held her up, “You're the greatest thing that has ever happened to me.” 

“Y-Your my ever-everything.” 

He shifted her body onto his left arm as he reached for his zipper. She leaned forward and placed small kisses along his neck as he awkwardly took his dick out. He let out a small laugh making her tilt her head, “What?” 

“This just reminds me of when we first had sex...it was filled with so much tension but fuck was it awkward.” 

She slapped his shoulder as he let out a small laugh, “It was my first time...it was perfect.”

He smiled at this and leaned forward placing his lips on hers, “Perfect doesn’t do it justice. You were so cute, so shy but once you got used to it, you became a vixen.”

“Yay! Shut up!” 

Yoongi slapped his dick against her pussy, making her jump a bit. He let out a deep chuckle and kissed her cheek. He grabbed her ass and he started to hump her, his tip hitting her clit almost every time, “My little vixen.” 

“D-Don’t call me-” She was cut off with a loud moan when she felt her fiance slipped in. She pulled her hips back slowly and pushed back in slowly, wanting to feel him (it was a special moment). Yoongi thrusted up and her face was buried into his shoulder, biting down harshly. 

“Just like that ~.” 

He started to go faster, dragging her pussy up his cock and slamming her back down as hard as he could manage in the position. She moaned into his pale skin as her nails drugged into his back. Yoongi noticed that the position was awkward and he didn’t want her to get hurt from it, so, without removing himself; he moved towards the couch. Her legs wrapped tightly around his waist as they sat down on the dark green couch. Yoongi situated her on his thighs and he lifted up her dress skirt. He licked his lips when he saw his cock disappearing just below the mounds of flesh, “You’re so pretty.” 

He kneaded her ass cheeks before spreading them to see her puckered asshole and she moaned at the feeling, “Mine.” 

He grabbed her waist and started thrust slowly, his falling shut as he held her close to. He thrusted slow and deep a few times before his hands shoved down the front of her dress, ripping it. He groped her tits and moaned slowly into her ear, “I love you.”

“I-I love you more.”

“Impossible.” 

He kissed and sucked her neck as she leaned into the touch. Her fingers found his hair as she gripped it. She turned her head and brought him into a sloppy kiss. He moaned into the kiss and his fingers snuck around finding her clit and started rubbing it. She moaned against his lips but didn’t move away from him. One more rubbed and she moved away from his lips to let out a loud moan, “Yo-Yoongi!” 

“That’s it baby, let it all out.” 

He let her fall back into her chest and he started going faster when he felt close, “Holy shit~.” 

It didn’t take long before Yoongi cummed hard, and gently bit her neck when he released. Yoongi hugged her tighter and they sat there before kissing her shoulder, “I love you.”

“I can’t believe you ripped my dress.”

He rolled his eyes and gently slapped her thigh, “I’ll buy you another one.” 

“Are you going to take me to the bedroom?”

“Is that what you want?” 

“I mean it's only eight...I have all night.”

“Fuck lets go.”

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Pomegranate Ink: XVI

Series Synopsis: Unable to heal but willing to fight, with a fiancé in Kyoto and a last name that looms over everything you do, you accept an offer to study at Tokyo Jujutsu Tech. What you did not know was that your salvation and your ruination alike would soon join you at the school, neatly wrapped in the form of a boy followed by death.

Chapter Synopsis: Your outing with Gojo is interrupted by the higher ups requesting that you go check in on Megumi Fushiguro, who still hasn’t returned from his mission from the morning.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Yuta Okkotsu × Female Reader

Chapter Word Count: 6.7k

Content Warnings: angst, misogyny, naoya zenin, forbidden relationships, canon-typical violence, character death, original characters included

A/N: i hate writing sukuna because he’s such a little freak in canon that almost any decision i make abt him feels ooc so sorry to my sukuna lovers but this is the way he is in this fic please don’t be too mad. also yeah megumi is probably kinda ooc here too feel free to be annoyed abt that. I ACTUALLY CAN WRITE HIM (# shameless ‘a song for the drowned’ plug) I PROMISE. just not in this chapter apparently.

“My father resents me for it,” you said. It was the first thing you said to Gojo as you sat down together. He pulled out a napkin from the holder sitting in the middle of the cheap linoleum table and used it to wipe away the crumbs that still littered the surface. “For finding a way around that ultimatum he gave me.”

To heal or to fight. According to your father and the rest of the higher ups, these were the only choices you had, and they were very much so mutually exclusive. You could do one or the other but not both, and the fact was that they were actually correct in saying this. On your own, you could not do it, could not have both, but you were no longer on your own. Not anymore.

“Is that so?” Gojo said, lips quirking up in amusement. “Well, I’ve always wondered how your poor mother married such a man. Isn’t it something, that he has somehow fathered such a prodigy and yet hates her for the mere fact that she is out of his control? Ironic, really. You are exactly what the L/N clan has needed for so many years, and yet now that you are born, you are despised.”

“I am a girl,” you reminded Gojo. “I’m not exactly what they were hoping for in terms of an heir.”

It was a little disquieting when he smiled with his teeth bared. If you did not know him in the way that you did, you’d consider it almost unnatural, even, but as the case was, it just seemed to you as if it were too wide. Too bright, too false. An emotion conveyed that he did not even mean.

“No, I’d wager you’re a great deal better,” he said, reaching out to pat you on the shoulder. “The girl who brought someone back to life and the youngest Grade 1 sorcerer in recent history; you’ve really proven yourself in the past year. I can say that at least I am proud of you, even if your family isn’t.”

“Thanks, I guess,” you said, uncomfortable with the praise. “Anyways, my mother is proud of me, so that makes two of you. As for the rest of my family, I believe that they are unsure. They do not understand what it means for the clan, that I can do both — albeit at Tullia’s expense.”

The past few weeks, you and Tullia had been training intensely with Shoko Ieri, the only Reverse Cursed Technique user not associated with the L/N clan. It had been a slow process at first, trying to figure out how to push your limits without putting Tullia through the same torture that you had inadvertently subjected her to in the process of healing Toge.

You were not always successful. You could not count the amount of times you had had to stop Composition but were not fast enough, were not able to cut it off before she began to bleed again. But it was better now; though nosebleeds were an inevitable side effect, it was a compromise that all parties were somewhat satisfied with. According to her, she barely even felt them.

It was through such tireless practice that you discovered the way to use the contract to your advantage. By pushing the entire responsibility of the cursed energy supplication to Tullia, you were able to ensure that your body was naturally receptive to receiving the repercussions of the Reverse Cursed Technique. An exchange for an exchange, a burden for a burden, but a far more advantageous one than the earlier scenario, because you possessed the body of a L/N, uniquely designed to handle the pain of Composition, and Tullia had that rare cursed technique which meant her reserves were not dependent on her innate self but instead drew from outside sources and could approach infinity if she had sufficient access to poison.

“The healer and the empty glass,” Gojo said, nodding in approval. “Who would’ve thought that things would turn out like this?”

“I suppose that’s the case. Isn’t it strange? I feel like I should be thanking Naoya. It’s only because of his irresponsibility that Tullia and I could even form the contract in the first place,” you said. Gojo choked on the pastry he had ordered.

“There’s never a situation that would justify you thanking him, so you can put that thought out of your mind,” he said.

“I was only half serious. If there’s anyone to thank, it’s Elakshi, for bringing that curse to Japan. By the way, have you heard anything from Iori about her and how she’s settling in?” you said.

“Nope, Utahime is in one of those phases where she won’t respond to my texts or calls,” he said, pouting comically. “I wish she wouldn’t do that! It makes planning faculty get togethers a real pain, you know?”

“I‘ll ask Noritoshi about it, then,” you said. “And I’ll tell him to tell Iori to text you back or whatever.”

“I knew you were my favorite student for a reason,” he said.

“Technically, I’m not your student anymore, I’m Kusakabe’s, so I believe that means Megumi has to be your favorite. By process of elimination — after all, he is the only first year,” you said.

“The other one is coming soon!” Gojo said. “She’s a girl, too. The one who you’re going to try to mentor or whatever. Are you excited to meet her?”

“Naturally. Though I don’t know if the mentoring life is necessarily for me, it would be nice for someone to look up to me and find me cool and occasionally ask me for advice,” you said.

“I always wished I had someone like that. Nanami was my greatest chance, but on the whole he found me mostly irritating,” he said. You smiled, taking a small bite of your own pastry, chewing and swallowing before you spoke.

“Maybe you already have someone like that,” you said. He cocked his head.

“Do you think so?” he said. You shrugged.

“It could be,” you said. Gojo waited for a moment, but when you did not speak further, he sighed.

“Honestly,” he said, and though he was wearing a blindfold, you could feel the weight of his eye roll. “Of course you won’t elaborate. Frustrating child.”

“I learned from the best,” you said. He stuck his tongue out at you, but could not otherwise argue; after all, your logic was irrefutable. In the year that you had become truly close with Gojo, you had found his personality to have rubbed off on yours the slightest bit. It was both a positive and a negative — that is to say, it was a positive for you and a negative for just about everyone else.

“Moving on, have you started thinking about what you’ll do after your graduation?” Gojo said.

“Huh? Become a sorcerer, of course. I’m already a first grade, it only makes sense that I’d continue to fight. I guess I can heal on the side, if Tullia permits it, but the main thing I’ll do is exorcising,” you said.

“I don’t mean for your occupation. When you don’t have your schoolwork to occupy you and you don’t live in the same building as all of your friends, what will you do? For fun. To entertain yourself. That kind of thing,” he said.

“I’m not sure,” you admitted. “I’ll take up something or another. Though, if we’re being realistic, how much free time do you genuinely think I’ll have? There’s not a large amount of sorcerers in the first place, and of that sum total, ones that are as highly ranked as I am barely even number in the double digits. I can worry about entertainment once I’ve retired, and I doubt that that’s going to happen for a very long time.”

“Sorry,” Gojo said. It was unclear what he was apologizing for. That you had inherited such a world? That he had brought up the topic in the first place? That he was so aware of the problem but could not fix it?

Maybe he might’ve explained himself further, but just then, your phone rang. You frowned at the contact flashing on the screen: Yoshinobu Gakuganji. Motioning for Gojo to pay for the desserts you had been eating, you clicked the ‘accept’ button and held the phone up to your ear.

“I didn’t know you could use a phone,” you said critically. “I thought you only communicated by mail, principal.”

“Don’t be daft, girl,” Principal Gakuganji snapped, as if you were saying something entirely unbelievable — as if he did not consistently send you mission instructions through letters instead of emails, as was the commonly accepted practice! “Of course I can use a phone.”

“Why have you called me? I’m a little busy right now,” you said. Gojo mouthed who? at me. You made a face and mimed playing a guitar at him. He pursed his lips, crossing his arms and tapping his foot impatiently.

“Did you know that first-year student Megumi Fushiguro is on a mission to pick up a cursed object at present?” the principal said, his voice heavy and wheezy as always.

“Still? I thought he was sent on that mission in the morning?” you said.

“That is the case. Because of the sensitive nature of the object — it’s one of Sukuna’s fingers, you know — we’ve been trying to get ahold of Satoru Gojo to go and check on his progress and make sure everything is alright. Unfortunately, it seems as though all of the higher ups’ numbers have been blocked on his phone,” he said. You snorted but disguised it as a cough, though judging by Principal Gakuganji’s fed-up exhale, you had not exactly been successful.

“Why didn’t you just email him?” you said.

“We thought it would take too long, so we decided to call you. As a first grade sorcerer, you’re the next best option, and we believed your personal relationship with Fushiguro might incline you to be prompt,” he said.

“Personal relationship?” you said, causing Gojo’s jaw to drop in surprise. Digging your school uniform out of your bag, you stomped towards the bathroom so that you could change. Though you were none-too-pleased about it, it remained that Principal Gakuganji was, in a sense, correct: certainly you would not leave Fushiguro in danger without even trying to help.

“He is your underclassman, so naturally there is a friendship that exists between you two that would not be there if we were to call in one of the older Grade 1s. Even Aoi Todo would not have the same fondness. Unless there is something more to it?” His tone ticked up with suspicion at the last question. You gritted your teeth as you bent over to tie your shoes.

“Don’t be ridiculous. He’s my dear little junior, so I’ll go make sure everything’s alright, but there’s nothing more to it at all,” you said.

“That’s a relief to hear. And if you can, please let that wastrel know that he’s needed as well,” Principal Gakuganji said.

“You’re so rude to Gojo, for being someone that depends on him so greatly,” you said. “I’ll pass along the message.”

With that, you disconnected the call and strode out of the bathroom, not feeling up to discussing anything more with the aged principal, who was nothing like your own Principal Yaga — now that was what a principal ought to behave like, according to you. To be sure, he was a little eccentric, but after so many years as a sorcerer, who wouldn’t be? At the end of it, though, he did care about his students more than the status quo, which spoke more than enough as to the quality of his character, in your opinion.

“We have to go,” you said, returning to Gojo, who was sitting at the now-clean table, his chin in his hands. “The higher ups want us to check in on Megumi’s mission. Apparently he’s not back yet.”

“Oh, is that all? It’s fine, he’s strong enough to take care of whatever’s going on there,” Gojo said. You gave him an incredulous look and tossed a sugar packet at him. It bounced harmlessly off of his Infinity.

“You’re not even a little worried? He was assigned the mission in the morning and he isn’t back yet, so late at night. I’m going to go whether you come or not, but I’d appreciate it if you don’t make me do it by myself,” you said.

“Go ahead and go,” Gojo said, waving you off. “You’ll be fine. I have to pick something up, since we’re in the area and all, so I’ll catch up with you later. I’m telling you, though, everything is definitely fine! Megumi’s no weakling.”

“I’ll see you later, then,” you said, doubting his flippant attitude just a little bit. How could he be so careless with one of his student’s lives?

Sliding into the backseat of Ijichi’s car, you pondered it as you stared out the window at the blurring scenery. Wasn’t this something like Gojo’s method? He would always put his students into the most absurdly dangerous situations, but never too far out of his sight, never anything you all couldn’t handle if you pushed yourselves.

The thought that you might be interfering in this form of training was outweighed only by the thought of the paycheck you’d receive for something that took relatively minimal effort. Checking in on Megumi was essentially glorified babysitting, except the so-called baby was frighteningly mature and self-sufficient, making it the easiest task ever.

Megumi’s mission was, fittingly enough, in a school. Creeping through the hallways reminded you of the first time you had met Yuta, how he had hidden under that desk, with Rika in the closet and the stars hanging high in the sky. He had come so far since then, hadn’t he? From the boy frightened of himself and his own shadow to the special grade sorcerer proper, the one who had faced even death itself and won.

Unlike that night, however, the hallways in this school were destroyed, rubble and glass littering the tiled floor. You stepped around stray shards, not wanting to cut your feet, and allowed your brow to furrow. There were signs of a genuine struggle here, ones hinting that the scope of the mission had been far beyond Megumi, who was still only a Grade 2 sorcerer.

Clicking your tongue, you leapt out onto the roof, finding your target standing there, his back ramrod straight, his hands curled into fists in front of him. It didn’t look like a defensive posture, but there was a certain desperation to his posture that didn’t seem warranted, considering the total lack of curses in the vicinity.

No, that wasn’t right. That pink-haired boy standing across from him…you could only tell because of how advanced your cursed energy perception was, but there was something strange about him. Something emanated from him, something cruel, dark, malevolent. It was at odds with the gentle expression on his face and the wide eyes he was looking around with.

“Say, Megumi,” you said, placing your hand on his shoulder, as much to alert him of your presence as to stop him from doing anything drastic. “What’s going on here?”

He turned to face you in surprise, blood seeping from a wound on his head and dust covering his cheeks. You let out a laugh and quickly whipped out your phone, taking a picture of him and texting it to Gojo first and the second year group chat next.

“What was that for?” he hissed.

“Sorry, it’s just that Maki and Gojo would be terribly disappointed if I didn’t memorialize your sorry state before healing you,” you said, sending another text to Tullia, warning her to take a couple of shots of bleach or something. She responded in the affirmative, allowing you to put your phone away and place your hands on Megumi’s temples, trying to judge the extent of his injuries. “The wound isn’t terrible. Do you mind?”

“We have bigger issues at the moment,” he said. “Namely, that boy.”

“I’m Yuji Itadori!” the boy in question said. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“That wasn’t an opening for you to introduce yourself to her!” Megumi said, exasperated. “I don’t think you understand the magnitude of what you’ve done yet, but you should get on that so that you stop acting so goddamn cheery!”

“It’s nice to meet someone so positive, actually,” you said. “It’s a not a common trait to see in a sorcerer.”

“Oh, I’m not a sorcerer,” Itadori said. You paused and contemplated the development.

“You’re not?” you said.

“He’s not,” Megumi said. You scowled, though it was more out of befuddlement than any real anger that you did so.

“Are you a curse, then? No ordinary person would have as much cursed energy as you do,” you said.

“I ate a curse? I don’t know if that makes me one or not,” Itadori said.

“Huh? What’s that supposed to mean? Is that your technique or something? I haven’t really heard of people that eat curses, but I guess one of my best friends has a technique that’s just ingesting poison, so I can’t really judge,” you said.

“It’s not like that,” Megumi said. “He literally ate a curse. As in, Sukuna’s finger.”

Reflexively, you gagged. “Ew. Don’t be such a boy, Megumi, that’s not a funny joke at all; it’s just gross to think about. I thought you were above such things.”

“He’s not joking,” Itadori said. “I really did eat the finger.”

“Really?” you said.

“Really,” Itadori said solemnly.

“Do you understand the situation now?” Megumi said, pinching the bridge of his nose. You shook your head.

“In truth, I don’t,” you said. “What — in what scenario does there exist a need for one to ingest a rotten, shriveled old finger? Didn’t that taste putrid?”

“A little like soap, actually,” Itadori mused. You gave him a disgusted look. He shrugged. “I don’t know. There was this massive curse about to kill Fushiguro, and because I was just a normal human, I couldn’t do anything to harm it. So I swallowed the finger and gained the cursed energy required to kill the curse! Sukuna manifested and got the job done, and then he started going on and on about all of the evil stuff he wanted to do, so I suppressed him. He’s such a headache, ugh! But that’s the story.”

“You suppressed Sukuna,” you repeated incredulously.

“According to him,” Megumi said suspiciously. “But what if he’s lying? This could be a trick.”

You peered closely at Itadori, who blinked nervously as you inspected him before tapping on his forehead.

“Dissection,” you said. The normal weak spots glowed white on his body, the full proof that he was a person — though, when you unfocused your eyes, you could just make out a hazy green glow that was not really centered on Itadori but somewhere inside of him. His inner domain, or his soul, or some other such related concept; this green, you surmised, was the presence of Sukuna. But if that was the case, then Itadori really wasn’t lying, so you turned to Megumi and nodded in confirmation. “He’s the real deal.”

“You believe me?” Itadori said.

“I believe myself,” you corrected. “For the moment, you are who you say you are. Megumi, I’m going to heal you while we have the chance; if this comes to blows, I’d rather have you on my side.”

“Fine,” he muttered, ducking his head, his cheeks turning pink. “If you could refrain from sending pictures of it to Maki and Gojo, though, I’d appreciate that. They’d never let me live it down.”

“Don’t stress, I won’t do that. Go on, then, get on the ground while that boy is still in control,” you said, watching over Itadori as Megumi lay on the ground. For his part, Itadori just seemed confused about the proceedings. This came as no surprise, though; if he really had been just an ordinary boy until just today, then how would he know anything about Reverse Cursed Techniques and such concepts? “Composition.”

Instead of a knife, it felt like you were being repeatedly punched in the stomach, each successive blow winding you until you felt like doubling over. Your cursed energy remained intact, however; it was Tullia’s that was rushing into you, allowing you to use it at will, the reward you got for taking every ounce of the pain that you were feeling, that Megumi was feeling, that even Tullia herself was feeling.

Coughing, you wiped away the tears that sprang to your eyes and placed your hands on Megumi’s forehead. Focusing Composition on his battered cursed energy reserves and the injuries his head had sustained, you used the positive energy of the cursed energy reversal to heal the wounds and replenish his reserves until he was somewhat close to the state he must have been before engaging in the battle.

“How do you feel?” you said, reaching into your backpack and taking greedy swigs of water from the bottle you had packed just in case. Megumi sat up and glanced at Itadori, who was watching you in awe.

“Fine. Hey, what are you staring at?” he said.

“Woah! Miss, did you just heal him or something?” Itadori said, ignoring Megumi completely.

“Yes, I did. It’s part of my inherited technique, though I assume those words would be on the whole meaningless to you,” you said.

“They are, but it’s still so cool to hear about! I can’t believe there’s like this entire secret world that’s existed and I knew nothing about until now,” Itadori said.

“We do a very good job at hiding our work from normal people. It helps that most can’t see curses,” you said. “Enough talking, though. We have to figure out what to do with you. You said you suppressed Sukuna? Do you think you could un-suppress him?”

“Why would you want that?” Megumi said.

“Gojo’s on his way,” you muttered under your breath. “It’s the perfect chance to see if he has potential as a vessel or if he should just be killed immediately.”

“Do you really think Gojo of all people should be trusted to arrive on time for anything?” Megumi said.

“It’ll be alright. Don’t underestimate me; I’m a Grade 1 sorcerer, aren’t I? He’s only had the one finger, so even once he manifests as Sukuna, it’ll be in a severely weakened form. I promise, even I can deal with him when he’s in such a state,” you said.

“Are you sure?” Megumi said.

“If I’m wrong, then I’ll have you to help me hold him off, at least until Gojo arrives,” you said. “You probably couldn’t do it by yourself, but if the two of us are working together, then we can probably manage at least that much.”

“If you say so,” Megumi said.

“Itadori, please let Sukuna out for a little bit. I’d like to talk to him,” you said.

“Are you guys personally acquainted or something?” Itadori said. “Sure, I can do that, but are you really certain you want to talk to him? He’s not exactly the greatest guy.”

“Hm,” you said, thinking back to a certain story and chuckling under your breath. “I guess you could say that. Don’t worry, it’ll be a quick conversation. Ten seconds is all I need; after that, I want you to take control back, alright? Or else Megumi and I will have to kill you, I’m afraid.”

“Okay!” Itadori said. “Wait, by the way — what’s your name?”

“Y/N,” you said as he closed his eyes before dark markings made of undulating cursed energy crept over his face. “Y/N L/N.”

Eyes as red as pomegranates flew open, staring at you in horror. They were narrower than Itadori’s, and indeed the entire bone structure of his face had changed ever so slightly, matured a little bit, his nose sharper, his chin squarer. Underneath his eyes were two more with the same crimson irises, though these were smaller and seemed less focused on you. There was no doubt about it: this was the King of Curses himself, the one for whom the stories and the songs were written.

He took a step towards you, but you stood your ground, reaching into the small pouch you always carried and grasping a silver needle in between your thumb and index finger.

“Y/N L/N,” he said, his voice deeper than Itadori’s, gravelly and rough instead of warm and bright.

“Ryomen Sukuna,” you said. “The King of Curses.”

“And the woman who sealed him,” he spat. His canines were sharper than any normal human’s had the right to be, his nails more like claws than anything. You looked over at Megumi, who could no more move than a mouse faced with the jaws of a tiger could. “I would kill you if I could.”

“Nothing is stopping you,” you said, fighting to keep your voice level, though you knew it trembled. Even if it was only a shadow of Sukuna’s true self, it remained that the being in front of you was known as the King of Curses for a reason. In terms of curses, just this small fragment could only be beaten in power by Rika herself.

“You would say that,” he said, and then suddenly he was in front of you, those fingers like talons wrapping around your throat, squeezing to the point of discomfort but nothing more. “You would say that, you witch. How fortunate am I! To be born again into this new body, this new world…and yet, I cannot escape you. Y/N L/N. What is this coincidence, that I must find you again, that I must manifest in the same place that you are?”

“I am not the woman who you think I am,” you gasped out, not wanting to fight the body which ultimately was Itadori’s. Not yet, anyways, not while he was still not actively hurting you, only threatening to do so.

“Yet you share her name, and there is some similarity to your features,” he said.

“She was my ancestor. The one who helped seal you. The one you killed — but her husband brought her back to life in the end, so it amounted to nothing,” you said. Maybe taunting Sukuna wasn’t your smartest idea, but you wanted him to know. You wanted him to know that he had been unsuccessful in this one thing, that the original Y/N L/N had lived beyond sealing him.

“You share her blood,” Sukuna said. “It is close enough. In fact, likely it is exactly the same thing; I cannot risk it. That means, no matter how much I want to, I cannot risk your death in the first place.”

Suddenly, abruptly, he threw you away from him, watching with some satisfaction as you barely managed to break your fall and spring to your feet. It was an odd stare which he trained upon you, equal parts concern and pleasure, like he had not wanted you to get hurt but at the same time could conceive no greater joy than the thought of harm coming to you. You could not understand it. You could not understand any of it.

“It’s been ten seconds, Itadori,” you called out carefully, cautiously, still not sure why Sukuna insisted that you could not die but not wanting to test your limits, either, in case that was the breaking point which led to him changing his mind and going after you anyways. Or, worse, he might decide to turn his attention to Megumi, who he presumably held no convictions about as of yet, and that was something you were keen to avoid, since Gojo still hadn’t shown up.

“Oops, sorry, I lost track of time!” The markings and extra eyes had vanished, and the youthfulness had returned as Itadori regained control of his body. He sounded like himself again, all eager and affectionate. “Did your conversation go well?”

“I’m left with more questions than answers, to be fully honest with you,” you admitted. “But nobody got hurt, and you managed to take back control when you needed to, so it’s a net positive. Now we have some solid proof to take to Gojo in the defense of your control as a vessel.”

“Yay!” Itadori said. “But, um, who’s Gojo?”

“That would be me,” a new voice said. The three of you turned as one unit to stare at the newcomer, who was as late as usual and toted two shopping bags, most likely full of souvenirs from wherever he had gone while you were helping Megumi.

“Gojo,” you said. “It’s about time you got here.”

“About time, indeed! What’s all of this talk about vessels and whatnot?” he said.

“That boy is Sukuna’s vessel,” you said.

“I ate a finger,” Itadori supplied helpfully.

“On Megumi’s watch, not mine,” you added. “I’d certainly never let something like that happen. I did confirm that he has control as a vessel, though, with the ability to suppress Sukuna at will.”

“Wait, slow down. So he ate Sukuna’s finger and became his vessel?” Gojo confirmed.

“He did,” you said.

“It’s true,” Megumi said. “I saw it happen. The most idiotic thing I’ve seen in a while.”

“I don’t know, I mean you do see Gojo on the daily, so can you really consider it to be the most idiotic thing?” you said, earning an offended gasp from Gojo and a look from Megumi. “Anyways, I used my signature detection on him, as well as Dissection. He’s the genuine article.”

“But you said he has control?” Gojo said. You nodded.

“Yes, I asked him to let Sukuna out for a total of ten seconds. After that time was up, he managed to regain control without too much of a problem,” you said. Gojo grew even paler than he usually was, which was saying something, as he already had the complexion of a pearl.

“Are you hurt?” he said.

“No, we just talked for that time,” you said, subconsciously rubbing at your neck, which still felt a little odd after Sukuna had grasped it so tightly. “Nothing more.”

“That’s a lie,” Megumi interjected. “He choked her at one point and threw her on the ground afterwards.”

“You shouldn’t have done such an experiment, knowing the dangers,” Gojo said. “You’re sure you’re fine?”

“Yes, positive. He’s being dramatic, anyways; I could’ve handled it, but I chose not to,” you said. Gojo glanced at Megumi for confirmation, but to your relief, Megumi nodded reluctantly.

“She wasn’t exactly overpowered,” he admitted. “It was more like she was letting it happen.”

“Why’d you let yourself get treated like that, then?” Gojo said. “Wait. Don’t tell me you’re into—”

“Shut up!” you said. “No!”

“It’s as fair a guess as any!” he defended.

“No, it is not! I didn’t want to hurt Itadori’s body unless it was absolutely necessary, and to be quite honest with you, I was interested in what Sukuna was saying. You see, he kept talking about how he wanted to kill me but couldn’t. Wouldn’t you be interested if the King of Curses said he couldn’t kill you?” you said.

“Not exactly! If I were you, I’d thank whatever deity intervened on my part and run very far away!” he said. “Now, of course, if it were me, I’d not be surprised. It’s likely he couldn’t kill me, so it wouldn’t be new information.”

“What’s done is done,” you said, deciding there was no point in letting the argument progress any further. “We have to decide what to do with Itadori, and then Megumi and I should probably check in with Ieri. I healed him earlier, but I don’t know if it was enough or not.”

“Good idea. Well, there’s not much deciding that needs to happen; he’ll be executed, that’s all. It’s sad, but that’s how these things go,” Gojo said.

“Wait,” Megumi said as Gojo used an incredibly weakened version of his technique to knock Itadori out in an instant, slinging him over his shoulder and preparing a portal to teleport to jujutsu headquarters. “Can you…can you please save him?”

“It’s strange to have you ask for something from me,” Gojo said. “You think I should save him?”

“Yes,” Megumi said. “Please. He’s the kind of person that deserves to be saved.”

“Do you really think so? Even knowing that he’s Sukuna’s vessel?” Gojo said. You knew him well enough by now to pick up on the fact that he did not doubt Megumi’s words but was rather testing his conviction.

Megumi was silent, casting about for something to say, so you took pity on him and decided to jump in. Besides, it was true that you didn’t want to see Itadori die just yet, either, though your explanation was a little different than Megumi’s was.

“He reminds me of Yuta,” you said. “Not in personality but in circumstance. If there’s a way for you to give him a chance the way you gave Yuta one, I think it could be worthwhile. How often will we meet another person capable of being Sukuna’s vessel? We could use him for our own ends. A mutually beneficial deal, as the case may be.”

“You’re so sentimental,” Gojo cooed. “Did it bring back fond memories for you, being at a high school and going on a dangerous mission like this?”

“It did,” you said shortly. “Not that that’s any of your business, by the way, so stay focused on the task at hand. I hate how involved you are in my personal life!”

“It’s my job!” Gojo whined.

“It distinctly is not!” you said. “Regardless, that’s my opinion on the matter. You may make of it what you will. In the end, I suppose it doesn’t really impact my life all too much if you save him or not, so do what you’d like.”

“My student wants me to save him,” Gojo said, giving Megumi one of those serious looks of his that meant he was being one hundred percent genuine in what he was saying. Megumi shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably. “I’ll do my best to that end. Y/N, if you could ensure that Megumi gets back to the school, I’ll bring you with me to Africa the next time I go to check on Yuta’s progress.”

“I’m on it,” you said. You would’ve done it anyways, of course, but the thought of seeing Yuta again gladdened you greatly, so you weren’t about to turn Gojo’s offer down. Even though you talked to Yuta on the phone as much as you could, you wanted to be with him in person, wanted to feel his arms around your body and his lips against your own, even if it was only for a little bit. That little bit would be enough to tide you over until he came back for good. “Let’s go, Megumi.”

“Do you think he’ll be able to save Itadori?” Megumi said as Ijichi drove off in the direction of Tokyo Jujutsu Tech.

“He said he’ll try his best. Coming from Gojo, that’s basically a guarantee that he will,” you said. “Don’t worry about it.”

“If I ask you a personal question, Y/N, would you answer it?” Megumi said. You shifted in your seat so that you were facing him, but he did not do the same, focusing on the moon and how it shimmered through the tinted glass of the car window.

“I used to pretend like the moon was following me so that it could watch over me,” you said.

“That’s not how it works,” Megumi said. “Scientifically.”

“Of course, I learnt that later on, but to a romantic child, it meant all the world that there was that one entity which cared enough to chase after me, no matter where I went,” you said.

“I see,” Megumi said.

“You may ask your question,” you said. “If it offends me, I’ll choose not to answer. That is all. I won’t be angry or anything.”

“You’re the youngest Grade 1 sorcerer in quite some time,” he said. “Was it worth it?”

“That’s heavy,” you said.

“The difference between us is like a chasm. Even though it’s only one level — two if you count Semi-Grade 1 as its own separate thing — you can claim to defeat Sukuna’s manifestation and not sound utterly ridiculous. You made it sound plausible. I could not even manage to fight against the curses that that finger attracted,” he said.

“You’re younger than me, so it’s not some great weakness to be down about,” you said.

“That’s a separate matter. What I really want to know is what it’s like? Being someone so powerful that when they needed a sorcerer to go in Gojo’s place, the higher ups thought of you,” he said.

“Power,” you said. “I don’t think that’s something I can ever lay claim to. Not truly. I know what you must be thinking — I’m a Grade 1 sorcerer, the one that everyone in jujutsu society seems to be talking about at the moment, so naturally I must be powerful. But it’s not like that. I’m no more powerful than you are, Megumi; in fact, I’m likely your inferior in that department by several degrees. I could never go up against the truly strong and win: people like Gojo, Yuta, even Hakari and Todo, all of them would beat me in a fair fight.”

“So then?” Megumi said. “I know you’ve beaten Todo before, so you’re not telling the full story.”

“So I never fight fair. I use people’s weaknesses against them. I strike from the shadows at the places which shine like beacons to me, and people think of me as some great hero for it. Can I really be considered as such, though? I’d like to answer your question, but I can’t. I don’t know what it’s like to be powerful. I don’t know if all of this was worth it,” you said. He was silent for so long that you nearly thought he had fallen asleep, but finally, he deigned to speak once more.

“What should I do?” he said. “Now that I’ve made such a request and asked Gojo to save that boy. What should I do?”

“You do the only thing any of us can do. You keep trying to grow stronger. You hope that in the end, you don’t regret any of it. Might I offer some entirely unsolicited advice?” you said.

“Sure,” he said. He was oddly vulnerable, in this light. You did not think that Megumi would open up to you like this in normal circumstances, but the trauma of the day’s events had probably worn down whatever defenses he might ordinarily have. Besides, it was generally difficult for someone to keep secrets or be stoic around the person who had healed them — it was a phenomenon that you had noticed, that the patients of your family could not help but bare their deepest secrets to them. Who better to do such a thing to than the person who already knew your entire body and soul so intimately, who had risked their own just to save yours?

“Your decision to save Itadori may not go the way you want it to,” you said. “There’s a reason he would ordinarily be executed, after all. I threw my support behind you because I felt pity, for you and for him, but in the end it was your request that did it, not mine. I think you are aware of this, but are you prepared for what that might entail?”

“No, I don’t believe so. Did I make a mistake?” he said.

“Yes,” you said. “You did. But don’t live like that.”

“Huh?” he said. You thought about Yuta, about the many mistakes you had made and he had made, about how many times the two of you had risked everything for one another.

Bringing him back was the one accomplishment you were proud of. It was the one thing you guarded fiercely as your own achievement, one unsullied by self-doubt. You had not let Yuta Okkotsu die. For better or for worse, you had not let him die. It was the one of the things you guarded deep and close to your heart, that you had saved him. Whatever came of it, you would not, could not, feel apologetic for doing that.

“You chose not to let him die,” you said, and then you twisted in your seat again, so that you, too, could stare out at the moon. Even now, it followed you, as it had when you were a child, and you smiled, resting your finger against its reflection. “That was your decision. No matter what the consequences are, you must always, always hold your head high and be proud of it. Don’t you ever dare let anyone tell you otherwise.”

[stars-of-kyber]

Oh how I absolutely loved the Kanthony + 38 prompt. Thank you thank you thank you!!!

Just one request pls pls pls - can we see this same prompt but with a role reversal I.e., with Kate being the one fainting and after they’re dating? Pls - it would make my whole year 🥹🤌🫶

Hello anon!

Thank you very much! I'm so glad you liked it!

Just lemme say that this got a bit out of hand... But I think it's cute so I hope you like it! I called it This Time We're Falling Together

This is a kind of Sequel to This story! It's better if you read that and then this, but it can be read as a standalone as well!

Enjoy this mess!

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

Kathani Sharma’s fiancé was annoying and overprotective. And a hoverer. And a bloody hypocrite.

She loved the man with all her heart, really did, but by God, sometimes he did his damnedest to irritate her!

She had a nasty stomach bug, courtesy of little Augie Basset. Simon had been really sick and Daphne called Kate desperately, begging her soon-to-be sister-in-law to watch the baby as she took her husband to the A&E. The younger woman was aware that Kate was home from the gallery and she knew Kate wanted to rest and see some details about her upcoming wedding. Daph would never bother Kate on her free day if there was another option but her mother was also down with something and Augie's usual sitter was out of the country on holiday. It was down to her or Eloise by this point. 

Kate really didn't mind. She loved her soon-to-be nibbling and Augie was a delightful little thing. At 10 months old, he was trying to stand on his feet and he was starting to try and form words. She secretly rejoiced the chance to have some one-on-one time to try and get the boy to say something similar to "Auntie Katie" before he said "Uncle Ant". She was already at a disadvantage since her fiancé's name was already much easier for a baby to babble than hers. She needed all the time she could get.

Newton was always excited when Augie was around. The first time she took him to Violet's for family brunch after Augie had been born, Kate was a bit scared the dog and the baby might not mingle well. Newton could be rough when he was excited and the puppy could feel left out with much of the attention on the new baby. 

Turns out her worries were for nothing. Newton had wiggled his little chubby butt all the way to where the four-month-old was resting in his carrier. Kate held on tight to the leash, in case her dog did something that might hurt Auggie and Simon was standing close as he told her to let him take a sniff. And so Newton did. He smelled the baby curiously for a few moments before realising it was friendly and giving it a nice sloppy lick to the head, to little Augie's delight. And that had been that. 

Unfortunately, Augie was fussy the entire afternoon. He cried whenever Kate tried to set him down, clinging to her T-shirt with little chubby fingers, and he hadn't taken much of the bottle she had tried to feed him. Her sister-in-law had informed Kate he had been sickly the past week but he had been to his paediatrician and was slowly getting better, so Kate hadn't been much phased. 

Anthony had come home that day to find his fiancée on the couch with his nephew cuddling into her chest, both of them as asleep as it would get, Newton had wiggled himself at the crook of her arm, his snout pressed against the baby's side as he wagged his tail to Anthony. 

In the end, Simon had a stomach bug, Daphne had thanked her profusely for watching Augie all afternoon and Anthony had sent a photo of Kate, Augie and Newton to the family group chat with the caption 'Who's babysitting who?', which had prompted a long discussion on how clearly the corgi was the one true nanny in the pic. It had been a lovely afternoon.

A few days later, Kate woke up with a sore body, a dry mouth and nausea rolling over her in waves. She bolted from bed, the world threatening to collapse under her wobbly legs, and emptied the meagre content of her stomach into the toilet, Anthony following behind her with a worried frown already twisting his face. 

Apparently, the stomach bug Augie Basset had passed to his father and grandmother and had gotten Kate too. She and all of the inhabitants of Bridgerton House but Hyacinth, although Anthony assured her his baby sister almost never got sick at all. She hadn't gotten chickenpox the summer three of her siblings had it and she was the only member of the family who had never been down with the flu. Apparently, the only health-related issues Hyacinth Bridgerton was capable of having were self-inflicted ones, such as a broken arm and some stitches to the head. 

According to Violet, Eloise had taken control of the upstairs bathroom, Greg was curled into a ball under his comforter with stomach cramps, and Frannie was running a temperature and couldn't keep any food down. Hyacinth had already called her big brother to take her out to eat because she couldn't stand living off chicken soup and crackers anymore and Violed did not allow the 10-year-old to run the cooker without adult supervision, and no one close to adulthood was in any condition of doing so. 

Kate could relate. The idea of a nice meal that wasn't clear broth or toast seemed wonderful in her head, although her stomach protested at the thought. She'd taken some sick days, to Benedict's most utter delight. But she'd only done it because apparently whatever Augie gave her spread pretty easily and she couldn't risk contaminating other people but Anthony's brother would not hear of it. 

"First, the two of you are using all your holiday leave and now Kate's even taking sick days!" He had laughed through the call. "Love really can perform miracles, I guess." 

The day Benedict discovered Kate and Anthony were planning to travel abroad for their honeymoon, he'd stared at her as if they'd told him they had decided to quit their jobs and move to Antarctica. 

"What?" She asked with a raised eyebrow as Ben stared open-mouthed. 

"I'm sorry, did you just say you talked to Mr Griphins about using your holiday leave after the wedding?" 

"I'm going on my honeymoon." She scoffed, turning back to the planner in front of her. "We're going to travel." 

"Willingly?!" Kate blinked at her future brother-in-law as if he had gone crazy. "Both you and Anthony are willingly using all your holiday leave?"

"I'm not that bad!" 

"When was the last time you took a holiday?" Ben interrupted before she could reply. "That wasn't either mandatory or an emergency?" Suddenly, her shoes became quite interesting and Benedict couldn't even decipher what was her reply. "Come again?" 

"I haven't, alright?!" She rolled her eyes, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "But we are going. We're taking a tour around Italy, all the way from Piemonte to Sicily. We're going skiing and wine-tasting and seeing beautiful art and eating great food." 

"That sounds fishy. Does Anthony know that?"

"He suggested it." 

"He what?!"

Kate's boss had also been shocked when he got a call from her saying she needed to use up some of her sick days. Was everything okay? Was she in the hospital? Did someone die? 

Kate might be a bit too hard on herself, but she refused to be a health hazard. So she stayed curled in bed, feeling her body begin building up a temperature but too tired and aching to actually get up and check. Her stomach was in knots and only taking toast with a little smear of marmalade and a very softened version of Mary's Chicken noodles soup. 

Anthony had worked from home the first day Kate came down with her stomach bug and he had tried to take some days off to take care of her, but his fiancée had categorically refused. There was very little he'd be able to do from home. The doctors had told both Simon and Violet during their visits to the A&E that it was viral and the way to treat it was to rest, have plenty of fluids, some rest, some vitamin C, and rest and try to eat as much as you could and rest. Did she mention rest? Because her body seemed like it had been run over by a truck and she was exhausted. 

There was no logical reason for Anthony to miss work. She'd probably just sleep all day long, getting up to go to the loo before rushing back to the comfort of the bed and the less contact between them, the better, before Anthony ended up sick himself. Kate had promised she'd call him in case there was anything wrong, which they both knew she wouldn't do unless she was actually really close to dying. 

So Anthony had gone to work after forcing her to take the vitamin tablet and leaving a big bottle of Pedialyte on the nightstand, telling her that bottle better be empty when he called to check on her around lunchtime and that she was supposed to check in as often as she could. Behind her back, he had scheduled with Mary to come to the flat to make sure Kate was alive and breathing, refill her water and try to get her to eat. Maybe it was vengeance from when she had forced him to call a family member after their disastrous first date. 

He would pay for that. Not right at that moment, but when she had enough energy to get out of bed, she'd definitely make him pay.

The first few days went by in a blur of exhausted sleep, constant trips to the toilet and stomach pain, but by the 6th day, things were slowly but surely starting to come back to normal. 

Despite this, she was still barely keeping anything down and she was still tired, sometimes dizzy, but she could spend more time awake and walk around the house without feeling like she'd walked all the way to India and back when she reached the sofa. 

And that's how she found herself alongside Anthony as he took Newton for a short walk on a Saturday morning. Her fiancé, as overprotective as always, had tried to talk her into staying home. 

"I need fresh air, Anthony!" She complained, groaning as she leaned down to fit her trainers into her feet. "I've been cooped up here all week, I'm losing my mind! I want to see the sky." 

"The sky is as cloudy and grey as always, you can see it from the window." Anthony scoffed. "And we live in London, there's no such thing as fresh air." 

Still, Kate was bundled up in her jacket next to him as they strolled down the sideway, her hand tugged into his arm, Newton's leash around his hand, the chubby little pup wiggling his butt as he stopped to sniff every single plant and lamppost he found. 

"I'm going back to work on Monday." She told him decisively. 

"Are you sure you're well enough for that?" He asked, his face twisted in concern. Kate knew Anthony worried about her just as much as she worried about him. They were both workaholics who tended to ignore their own bodies' needs and demands until they actively broke down, too sick to actually keep going. And because she knew that, she knew her fiancé was just as bad as she was when sick. "You need to rest."

"You wanted to work three days after getting your appendix removed, Anthony." She rolled her eyes at him. "You're the last person who can lecture me on this."

"You're still barely being able to keep anything down." Anthony continued as if she hadn't said anything. "And don't think I don't know you're still feeling some pain in your stomach."

"I'm much better now." 

"You've been living on toast and marmalade for a week." He raised his eyebrow, offering his fiancée a pointed look. 

"That's not true." She scoffed. "I managed to eat strawberry jam instead of marmalade yesterday and I didn't throw up." 

"Oh, alright, now you're so much better!" He rolled his eyes, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I don't know why I was worried at all." 

"I'll be fine, okay?" She pulled herself closer to his side, enjoying the way he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "I'm already feeling much better." It wasn't a straight-out lie, she did feel better. The much more part was a big exaggeration, though, and she knew her fiancé could see it as well. 

 "I'm just worried about you," Anthony said, kissing the top of her head gently. "I can't stand the thought of anything happening to you."

"Nothing's going to happen to me, you silly man." Kate laughed as she kissed his cheek and pulled away, bending down to help Newton, who had managed to tangle his lead on his little legs in his excitement to chase after some pigeons. "You're not getting rid of us that easily, Mr Bridgerton. We're here to stay, isn't that right, Newty?" The corgi barked at the sound of his name as if agreeing to what his owner said. 

"Good, I put that ring on your finger for a reason." Anthony extended his hand and Kate took it, letting him pull her to her feet. 

Nope, big mistake, Kate thought as the edges of her vision faded. She rose way too quickly and her vision turned even darker the moment she was standing on her own two feet. She clutched at Anthony, who, by the look on his face, had noticed something was wrong. 

"Kate?" His voice sounded way too far away from her ears as she tried to blink back the spots that were swarming her sight. "Kate!”

And then everything went black.

Kate came back to herself slowly, dizzy and a little nauseous, with a throbbing pain burning against her temple. She was laying on the hard, cobblestone floor of the park. The flaps of her coat, which had been previously quite snug across her chest, were zipped open, making Kate shiver with the wind. Newton was next to her face, sniffing at her and licking the skin of her cheek.

"Stop..." Her voice was weak as she tried to move her hand to push the dog away from her only to find out that her wrist was securely in her fiancé's hand as he murmured something she couldn't really understand under his breath. Her poor, stressed-out fiancé looked like he was very close to having a panic attack. His eyes were wide, and all blood seemed to have left his face. Kate could feel the way his hands were shaking as he tried to feel her pulse. "Anthony..."

"Kate! Kate, are you listening to me?" He came closer to her face, his hands feeling her cheeks. "Kate, please..."

"Newton's licking me." She whined in a weak tone, closing her eyes again. Her head just hurt so bad. But, at least, the dog’s attention stopped. "What happened?" 

"You fainted." He told her sternly, the words hitching with fear. "You were fine one moment and the next you went pale and the next thing I knew you collapsed against me." Kate tried to move, to push her body upwards towards a sitting position but Anthony just pushed her shoulders right back. "Stay down." 

"M'fine." She grumbled but laid her head back on the concrete anyway, licking her dry lips.

"Yeah, sorry for not believing that at the moment since you said that and then you fainted right after." Anthony scoffed, reaching for his phone. "You're going to lay there until I get the ambulance here." 

"No, Anthony!" She reached for the phone in his shaking hands with sluggish moves and clammy fingers. "No ambulance."

"Will you just stay down, please?" His tone was at least an octave higher as he held her down. "You fainted, I'm pretty sure that calls for an ambulance." 

"My blood pressure just dropped." Kate closed her eyes, breathing deeply, feeling the dizziness slowly start to ebb away. "No need for an ambulance for that." Kate opened her eyes to see him still with the phone in his hand. "Oh, for God's sake, Anthony. I'll let you take me to the hospital, just put that phone away!" 

"You'll go without complaint?" He asked her with a raised eyebrow, his thumb hovering over the call button. "You're not going to get home and tell me you're fine and refuse to go?" 

 "I promise." Anthony studied her face for a moment, trying to see if she was being honest, and seemed satisfied with what he saw there. His hand drew back from the button, locking his phone and shoving it back into the front pocket of his trousers. "Can I sit up now?" 

"No, staying lying down just a bit longer." 

Anthony didn't even allow her to go up their flat when they returned from the park, his arm placed carefully around her for support in case she were to feel dizzy again. He just unlocked the car and told her to wait inside while he dropped Newton upstairs and picked up her bag and some water for her parched mouth. 

The A&E was as loud and busy as ever, but it did not take that long for them to be sitting in front of an older man with greying hair and heavy-rimmed speckles resting on his nose.  

"How can I help you today, Miss..." He looked at the computer screen on his table. "Sharma?" 

"I have a stomach bug." She told the doctor with a humourless smile. The man just raised an eyebrow at her. "I've been having some symptoms for about a week and..."

"She fainted in the park." Anthony interrupted her, making her roll her eyes, the doctor looking between the two of them. 

"I was getting to that, thank you, Anthony." She huffed. "My blood pressure dropped when I got up too fast. But my fiancé is worried, so now we're here."

"Alright..." The man blinked, his gaze flickering between the two of them for a moment before clearing his throat. "You said your symptoms began last week?"  

"About Monday, yes." Kate nodded. "I was babysitting our nephew on Friday and he had a stomach bug, passed it around for half the family." 

"Yes, kids are usually the best vectors for these things." He typed something down before looking back at her. "And apart from dizziness, any other symptoms?" 

"I mean, just the usual. Some stomachache, my body hurts and I've been really tired. And the nausea, I've thrown up a bit." Anthony scoffed and Kate glared at him. "Would you like to do my medical consultation for me, Anthony?" 

"She hasn't been able to keep anything other than toast for a week." He told the doctor, who went back to his typing. 

"And chicken noodle soup," Kate added, but the doctor didn't exactly look impressed at that. 

"And you fainted." 

"Yes."

"Was it a strong dizziness or did you lose consciousness?" 

"I... um... I blacked out for a bit, yes." The doctor wrote some more into his computer. 

"And for how long were you unconscious?" Kate opened her mouth to reply, closed it and turned to Anthony. 

"For about a minute." He told the doctor. 

"Right." The doctor pulled away from the table and stood. "If you could hop onto the exam table..." 

The doctor listened to her chest, checked her eyes and mouth, and palpated her abdomen, asking Kate to tell him if it hurt. Throughout all of it, Anthony was staring at her, a worried little frown carved into his features and it did not ease once Kate was down from the table, sitting back next to him, her hand reaching out to grab his with a gentle squeeze. 

"All the symptoms would match a stomach bug, but I'd like to run a few tests, just to be safe." The man pushed his glasses up his nose. "You're a bit dehydrated so I asked for IV fluids and something for the nausea. Just go down to the nurses' station, they'll take you to get your labs done and then start on your IV while we wait for the results." 

Nausea IV meds were, in Kate's humble opinion, one of the best things invented by mankind. Within 30 minutes, Kate was feeling better than she had all week and Anthony had even managed to convince her to eat a bit of a chicken sandwich he managed to get in the hospital's food stall. Her mouth didn't feel as dry and her stomach didn't feel like it was ready to push every single drop of its content out at any second. 

Despite the two hours sitting in the waiting room, Kate was in almost a good mood when the doctor called them back into his small exam room. She was ready for the man to tell her fiancé she was just going through a nasty stomach bug, then hopefully prescribe her some more of that nice nausea medication she could take at home so she could just slowly go back to her normal life. 

"So your labs came back and there's nothing here that indicates any type of a severe infection..." 

"See?!" Kate turned to Anthony with a triumphant smile. If she had to sit through being poked around with needles and sitting in a waiting room for hours, at least she could have the satisfaction of rubbing at her fiancé's face that she was right all along. "I told you it was just a stomach bug!"

"Not quite..." Both Kate and Anthony turned so quickly to face the doctor that it was a wonder their necks hadn't snapped.

"I'm sorry, what do you mean by not quite?" 

"It's possible you actually have a stomach bug since many people in your family seem to be presenting similar symptoms, but I believe some of these symptoms you have been experiencing might actually be because of... a hormonal imbalance you're going through now." 

"Excuse me, a what?!" Anthony reached out, lacing his fingers with Kate's, his thumb running circles over the back of her hand. 

"You see, your body is going through a mass production of this hormone called human chorionic gonadotropin which is...." 

"Doc, please." Kate interrupted the man with a raise of her hand, her patience running a bit short. She hated when doctors talked to her in a way she couldn't really follow. "I have a degree in Fine Arts. He's an accountant. Between the two of us, we speak about 5 different languages and none of them is the one you're using right now. We're gonna need you to be a bit more clear here please because I didn't understand half of what you just said." 

The doctor looked at the two of them across the desk before taking a deep breath. 

"You're pregnant." 

It took a moment for Kate to process the words that had just come out of the older man's mouth and when they finally settled in her brain, she just let out a loud disbelieving laugh. 

"No, no, that can't be right." She shook her head with a chuckle. Anthony's hand had gone lax around hers, his palm resting against her leg. It seemed he still needed a moment to process the words. "I can't be pregnant I..." Kate choked on the words, the laughter dying in her mouth. "We weren't trying and... I mean... I can't be, can I...?"

Kate turned to Anthony, expecting some sort of answer, either in agreement or disagreement, but he was just staring at her with wide, surprised eyes.

They had discussed the idea of children, of course, they had. It would be stupid walking into a life together without discussing what expectations each of them had of what this life would be. They both had believed for a long time that love and a family would never be in the cards for them, but then they met and Kate could not imagine not wanting a little human that was half her, half him. She had seen him with Hyacinth and Greg and baby Augie and she knew it was something she needed in her life. 

But it was something they agreed on for the future. They'd wanted to settle into their married life and enjoy each other as a newlywed couple before beginning to plan for a baby. They had time. Or so they thought. 

"When did you have your last period?" Kate furrowed her eyebrows at the question. When had it been? She… Why, she couldn't really remember!

"I don't know… I..." She wracked her brain for the last time she had to reach for the tampon box she kept under their master bathroom sink. "I have a really irregular period because of my erratic work schedule so I..."

"It was at brunch at Mum's," Anthony spoke up suddenly, turning to Kate. "Before her birthday, on the 18th. You asked Daph for tampons because you didn't have any but she didn't have any either so you had to get pads with Frannie..."

"Because Eloise uses a cup, yes!" Kate nodded. "So, what, almost... oh." The doctor raised an eyebrow at her. 

"That was almost three months ago." Anthony finished for her. 

"That would put you between 8 to 10 weeks, I suppose." The doctor told her patiently. “The usual calculation is from the last period. But an ultrasound can give you a better estimate.” 

"Holy shit," Kate whispered, tugging on her hair. A baby? She was pregnant? They were having a baby? God, she hoped they had Anthony's hair.

"I guess we're not going wine-tasting in Italy anymore." 

The entire ride home from the hospital was quiet, both of them absorbed in their own thoughts. The doctor had sent her home with a prescription for nausea medication, a few vitamins and a reminder for her to schedule a visit to her OB/GYN, as soon as possible. And if she was back to being unable to keep food or fluids down, she was to come back to the hospital at once to be admitted. 

They were having a baby. Kate was growing a human being inside her…  Hers and Anthony's little human being. It didn't really feel real yet. She barely knew what to feel at all. 

Anthony hadn’t spoken a word on the way home, but his hand hadn't left Kate for a single moment since they had stepped out of the little exam room in a daze. He kept continuously in contact with her, either with his fingers on her lower back as they walked to the parked car or his palm on her thigh as he drove. Or how he offered her his hand to help her out of the car as he always did. 

Kate toed her trainers off by the side of the door before collapsing into the sofa with a deep, tired sigh. Anthony dropped down next to her while Newton climbed up after him, wiggling himself between them. 

"So…," he started, but the sound trailed off and no other word followed. Kate understood the feeling. She didn't know what to say either. 

"Yeah, so..." She turned to the side to see Anthony's eyes studying her face and they held their gaze. It was quiet for a few moments while they looked deep into each other's eyes before both of them burst out laughing. It was a strange laugh, something between wonder and surprise and nerves. Kate herself wasn’t exactly sure why she was laughing at all, she just knew she couldn't really stop. Perhaps the shock of the news, added to the past two weeks of nausea and exhaustion had finally made her brain short-circuit. 

They laughed together for a full minute, unable to contain it, until it slowly dwindled to a stop. Kate was out of breath, her chest heaving up and down with the effort to breathe regularly, but the smile on her lips refused to go away. She didn't even want it to. Next to her, Anthony's shoulders were slowly stopping to shake, his head thrown back, his hands raking through his hair as he always did when he didn't know what to do with them. 

He really was the most handsome man she'd ever seen, wasn't he? Their child would be spectacular. 

"God..." Kate's head lulled to the side, resting against her fiancé's shoulder, his fingers reaching out to twist themselves with hers. "A baby..." 

"Yeah..." Anthony's mouth brushed against the top of her head, sounding awed. "What now?" 

"Do you think we can get a refund on the ski park?" Kate could feel the rumble of his chuckle as his arms wrapped around her tightly. "Oh God, and the winery tour..."

"I can't believe that's what you're thinking about right now." 

"I don't..." Kate shook her head, turning to bury her nose against his neck. "I don't even know what to think, at the moment." 

"I get that." Silence took over for a couple of moments before Kate shifted, turning to watch her fiancé, worrying her lower lip between her teeth.

"Is this..." She breathed in deeply, steadying herself. "Do you... Do you want to do this?" 

"What? Have a baby with you?" Anthony turned to look at her as if she had gone insane. "I thought we had agreed on three kids." 

"Yeah, but one day in the future, not like in about 7 months' time!" 

"Is this not something you want to do now? Because we..." The quiet worried tone of his voice had Kate close to shaking. 

"No! No, I..." She grabbed into his arms, her fingers digging into his flesh with more strength than necessary. "I mean, yes, I do, I want to, I want this…it's just... Ugh!" Kate shook her head desperately, unable to get her head put the words together properly. "This wasn't the plan! We had decided on something and that’s not it. The wedding and the trip are..."  

"Kate! Kate, look at me." Anthony's hands cupped her cheeks on either side of her face, tilting her face gently towards his. "Fuck the plan!" Kate chuckled, her eyes filling with tears. "I want everything with you. I love our house, our things next to each other in the closet, your mess of paint boxes in the office next to my books and even your stupid dog.” Newton looked up as if aware he was being mentioned, his tail wagging and his tongue hanging outside his mouth happily. “I want everything you're willing to give me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and start a family with you. Yeah, sure the timing isn't exactly perfect..."

"I'm going to have to have my dress altered." Kate moaned, making Anthony chuckle. 

"You still have three dress fittings before the wedding." He kissed her forehead and then the tip of her nose. "Sure I would have preferred to have planned this in advance, and not have it sprung on us two months before our wedding, but still." His lips found hers in a sweet, gentle kiss. "All the way here I couldn't stop thinking what our child would be like." 

"What, like a stubborn workaholic?" Kate asked, a cheeky smile blooming between the tears running down her face. God, she loved that man so much it was ridiculous. 

"I mean... It's really very possible." Anthony snorted, running his fingers through his hair. "We're going to have to work on that, won't we?" 

"Well, I guess the forgetting to eat and skipping meals thing will have to be out of the cards, at least for me." Kate sighed, enjoying the feel of her fiancé's arms around her, joking together, just the two of them. Well, three with Newton still happily stuffed between them on the sofa. And four, if you counted the baby. Their baby. The idea brought tears back to Kate's eyes. That hormonal, emotional thing had barely started and she already hated it. 

"On the other hand, you and I are very skilled at erratic sleep schedules."

"I suppose we'll be putting your insomnia to the test really soon, huh?" She hummed. 

"Why do you think I used to stay up until the early hours of the morning with Hyacinth when she was little?" 

"That's true." Kate nodded pensively. "At least one of us will have some idea of what they're doing." 

"Kate." Anthony pulled away from her, tugging on her arms until she was sitting on his lap, her legs bracketing either side of his thighs, and they were face to face. Newton huffed in annoyance at the sudden jostling before curling himself into a ball next to them. "You're going to be the most amazing mother I've ever seen. You're loving, caring and compassionate..." 

"I also have no idea what I'm doing." She sighed dejectedly, biting the inside of her lips to keep from spilling the tears pooling in her eyes. She wanted this, their little family, so, so much, and yet there was this stupid voice inside her head telling her she could barely remind herself to stop working and eat or rest, how was she supposed to take care of a baby? 

"No one knows what they're doing when they have a baby. My dad once told me, after Greg was born, that no one is ever ready to be a parent. It doesn't matter how many times you do it." Anthony told her gently, his knuckles brushing away the spaced tear from her cheek. "I was so scared I'd fuck up Hyacinth for good when she was little. Sometimes I still am sometimes and she’s not even my kid. Hell, even Daphne, who was born to be a mother, was terrified about it." Daphne was the type of nurturing person who everyone knew would be the most gentle, loving of mothers. She dreamed of having a baby since she was a girl if the stories were to be believed. There was no way she was scared. 

"You don't have to say things to make me feel better, love." Anthony tutted at the way Kate rolled her eyes at him. 

"I would never. Ask her about it if you don't believe me!" He scoffed. "A couple of months before Augie was born, you remember I took Daph to get groceries while you, Ben and Simon were painting the nursery?"

"The smell of the paint was making her sick." Kate nodded. She remembered the day rather well. Anthony's sister had asked them to help decorate Augie's nursery. They were going with an underwater theme and Kate and Ben had spent the entire afternoon painting bubbles and little octopuses and brightly coloured fish under Simon's careful instructions. Anthony, who was absolutely no help in the art department and was mostly there for moral support, had dragged sister, who was quickly turning three different shades of green, away before she threw up on the floor. 

"Daphne realised she got the wrong shampoo for Simon on the way back home. And then she sat in my car crying for almost twenty whole minutes. Crying. Full-blown ugly sobbing with a runny nose and tear-stained cheeks, about how she'd be a terrible mother if she couldn't even remember the correct type of shampoo to buy, how would Simon trust her with their child? She'd end up being one of those horrible mums who forgot her kid in the car." 

"You're fucking with me." Kate couldn't help but laugh. "There's no way Daphne would have said that." 

"Cross my heart and hope to die, I'm not." Anthony chuckled. "Ask her if you don't believe me." 

"How can you not be scared about this?" Kate asked, leaning her forehead against his and closing her eyes, just enjoying the delicious feel of her fiancé all around her, with his arms wrapped around her waist, holding her close to him. 

"I am scared." He confided in her with a whisper, pressing their lips together in a quick kiss. "I'm absolutely terrified, actually." Another soft kiss. "But at the same time I think about our baby growing inside you and I'm so fucking happy that, Kate, I can barely breathe." 

"Yeah..." Kate's smile was tentative at first, growing in proportion as she looked at Anthony's glowing face so close to hers. His hands were firmly on her waist, his thumbs brushing circles over the slip of bare skin between her shirt and trousers. "I'm really fucking happy as well."

"There's absolutely no one else I'd ever want to do this with." He told her, her eyes staring deep into hers. "I love you so, so much and I can't wait to do this with you. All of this, the wedding, marriage, our baby..." 

"Our baby." Anthony's hand drifted from her waist, brushing against the little bit of exposed skin until it was resting over her still-flat stomach. Kate laughed and tears spilt down her cheeks without her consent, Anthony's free  palm cupping her cheek, using his thumb to brush away her stray tears, while completely ignoring his own. This man, this stupid, ridiculous, wonderful man that had come into her life, fainted into her arms on their first date and then proceeded to turn her entire world upside down. This fool, who was too hard on himself and loved so fiercely, although he had declared love not to be in the cards for him for so long. 

Kate used to tell herself she was perfectly happy with life the way it was before. That she loved her job and her art, that being there for her sister and stepmother was enough for her, and that she didn't need anything more than that. God, what an idiot she had been! 

Love had sneaked up on her quietly in a hospital room and by the time she walked into that restaurant for their second first date, Kate Sharma knew she was meant to spend the rest of her life with Anthony Bridgerton. Sure, he was infuriating sometimes, so stubborn it hurt and so, so cocky. Sometimes he worked his damndest to be his poshest self in order to annoy her, she was certain of it. 

Yet, at the same time, he was the kindest, most caring and gentle man she'd ever met. He listened to what she had to say and valued her opinion on things, even if they bickered endlessly when they disagreed. He took his time to learn what she liked and what she didn't. Kate had never felt so comfortable and understood as she did when she was with him. 

Anthony Bridgerton would be a lovely father. He was excellent at taking care of every single person he cared about. Well, everyone but himself. But that wasn't a problem. Kate knew a thing or two about being way too hard on yourself while being 110% there for the people you loved. They could have each other's backs. She'd take care of him and he'd take care of her. And they'd take care of their child, together.

"I love you so much it's actually a little ridiculous." Kate sniffed, laying her hand over his across where their child was nested and turning her face to place a soft kiss on his wet palm. "And I'm really excited to have our little family as well."

"Even if it means you'll have to get your dress altered?"  

"I'll live." She shrugged, making Anthony chuckle a little watery.

"I heard your fiancé is loaded, I'm sure he'll pay for any alteration you need to get done." He offered, replacing his hand with a soft brush of the tip of his nose against her cheek. "He'll even buy you a whole new wedding dress if you want. Or three." 

"I can pay for my own dress alterations, Anthony." She scoffed.

"Shh, stop fighting me on this." His lips brushed against her cheek before settling against her mouth in a sweet, deep kiss. "It's kinda my fault alterations might  be necessary anyway." 

"I'm pretty sure it takes two to make a baby, love." Kate laughed. "And I think you'd find I was a very willing participant in the actions that led to this moment." 

"That you most definitely were." He hummed against her mouth. "But you'll end up doing most of the hard work in the end. It's only logical for me to pay for the alteration costs."

"Logical only in your posh little ri..."

"Besides that," Anthony interrupted her loudly before she could continue her rant. "What is mine is yours and all of that. Or it will be soon." 

"You're gonna do it whether I agree to it or not, won't you?" Kate pushed away from him just enough so she could look her fiancé in the eye as she raised an eyebrow at him. 

"I mean, yeah, probably." He shrugged, not really ashamed of admitting it. 

"You know what, alright." It was Anthony's turn to be caught by surprise by her easy acceptance. She'd always agree to it, and if she didn't, he'd probably go to Edwina and plot behind her back to pay for it himself. In the beginning, Kate had thought he was trying to buy her love and as a fiercely independent person, she had tried to rebel against it. And then she slowly started to understand that paying for things and giving presents was Anthony's weird way of expressing his affection, apparently, since words were not always his forte. Bit by bit, she started to accept it. Not without a bit of a brawl, though. She'd never go down without a fight. Or almost never, anyway. "I'm a bit too tired to bicker about it, really." 

"Are you feeling alright?" It was almost funny how quickly his expression changed from surprise to smugness to worry as he studied her with his soft brown eyes. If she knew Anthony at all, which she liked to believe she did rather well, he was already considering if he should just drag her back to the hospital for admission. 

"I just need a nap, Anthony." She rolled her eyes good-naturedly at her overprotective man. "It seems our little bug takes up a lot of my energy."

"Don't call our child a bug." Anthony rolled his eyes, but he was getting up from the sofa, Kate scrambling to wrap her legs around his waist to steady herself. "And you're going to drink some water before sleeping." 

"Whatever you say, Mr. Bridgerton, as long as you nap with me." 

And five minutes later, Kate fell asleep with a smile on her lips, wrapped safely in her fiancé's arms, their legs tangled together and their child between them. 

The closer to the wedding it got, the more stuff appeared on Kate's already unending list of things to do. She needed to wrap up all her work in the gallery before she took her holiday, there were doctors appointments to go to and last-minute decisions to make, a rehearsal wedding and dinner to plan.  Her last dress fitting was coming up and she desperately needed to find a way to tell their family she was pregnant. 

Anthony had assured her no one on his side of the family would be anything but delighted at the news. His mother most certainly wouldn't have any grounds to judge them too harshly, since apparently her wedding had taken place in late February and Anthony was born in September of the same year. Plus, there were very few things that were considered as going too far for Violet Bridgerton in order to get her the precious grandchildren she so desperately wanted. And although Mary would not go the same length as her mother-in-law, Kate knew her stepmother was also desperate for a grandbaby of her own. 

Kate had been the one to insist they find a good moment to share the news. She was pretty sure that, if it was Anthony’s decision alone, he'd have walked into family brunch the day after they had their first OBGYN appointment, shouting at the top of his lungs that they were having a baby, ready to show every single member of their family the blurry ultrasound picture he had taken to carrying around in his wallet. 

At first, Kate had wanted to keep the news to themselves for a bit longer, to be able to fully wrap her head around the fact that yes, there was a baby coming in approximately 6 to 7 months. They deserved time to enjoy it for themselves for a while. And then that time passed and she had wanted the moment to feel right. Anthony respected her decision and allowed her to take the lead on how to tell everyone about their baby. Unfortunately, the right moment never seemed to come.  

And that's how Kate found herself sitting in Violet Bridgerton's living room, three weeks before their wedding, surrounded by their still blissfully-unaware family. Her mind was working overtime as she tried to find either a very good explanation as to why she wouldn't be drinking at the bachelorette party her sister and sisters-in-law (the ones legally allowed to drink, anyway) were throwing on the following weekend and why she didn't want her mother and mother-in-law at her final dress fitting, since she had started to show the week prior and taking in her clothes in front of the two women would certainly give her away. 

In the end, the situation presented itself rather clumsily and Kate just took it. 

Violet, Daphne and Mary were deep into a discussion over seating arrangements for the ceremony and the reception while Anthony had been dragged to a corner by Simon and Ben and they were now locked into a quiet debate over... Kate wouldn't even venture a guess. Anthony would probably tell her about it on the way home anyway. Eloise was sitting with her nose buried in a book, Colin was giving a plate of pudding his entire, undivided attention and Fran was focused on her phone. 

And that's how Kate found herself sitting with Augie rather comfortably on the sofa, her nephew bouncing excitedly in her lap as she watched Hyacinth and Greg squabble over a game that was similar to marbles, but not exactly so. The baby squeaked loudly, trying to wrap his chubby little hands around Kate's loose hair while his aunt valiantly fought the attempts. 

"Kate," she lifted her eyes to find Hyacinth staring at her with pensive eyes, two marble balls clutched to her fingers. "Will you and Anthony have a baby of your own?" 

It was rather impressive how the entire room's attention focused on Kate after the girl's question, all types of side talk were put on hold to hear what her reply would be. 

"Yes, we will, Hy." Kate nodded, smiling gently at the little sister that was almost as close as a daughter to her soon-to-be husband. 

"Yes, but when?" Hyacinth continued to probe. Violet seemed ready to scold her youngest child for inappropriate questioning when Kate cleared her throat. 

"Around mid to late November, I'd reckon." Kate had been attending weekly brunches at Bridgerton house for about a year and a half at this point, and she had never seen any room in that house go as quiet as now, right after her answer. She could feel Anthony's eyes stuck to her, half in questioning, half in encouragement. The rest of the gazes were shifting quickly between her and her fiancé, trying to determine if it was some sort of joke or not. Not even Hyacinth dared to speak. The only sound  ringing around was the delighted giggles coming from Augie as his aunt bounced him on her knees.  

It was Eloise who dared to break the silence, clearing her throat loudly after a full minute of stunned silence.

"When you say November..." Anthony's second sister turned to look at Kate with a frown. "You mean like a hypothetical November because you want a winter baby or....?"

"Not hypothe... Ought dear, careful!" Augie had managed to grab a fistful of Kate's dark hair and was tugging at it with all his baby might. "I don't mean it like that."

"So you mean like, this November." It wasn't exactly a question but Kate nodded anyway. 

"Yes."

"In six months." 

"Give or take, yeah." Kate could feel the eyes of the entire room glued to her, their expressions ranging from confusion, to surprise to disbelief. Even Colin's pudding was forgotten at the centre table. 

"And just to be very clear," Eloise clasped her hands together in front of her, her body leaning forwards. The book on her lap fell to the floor but no one even jumped in surprise at the noise. "You are aware that it takes about 9 months to... grow a baby, yes?"

"Around 40 weeks, according to my doctor, yes," Kate confirmed. Eloise just nodded her head slowly, looking completely taken aback.

"Katie..." There were tears running down Mary's cheeks when Kate turned to look at her stepmother, who seemed like words had escaped her after she whispered her child's name. 

"Wait," Gregory, bless him, had been one of the most confused faces during the entire exchange and only at that moment, understanding seemed to be drawing in his mind. "That means you're pregnant?"

"Yes, Greggy." Kate smiled, her eyes already turning wet. Stupid hormones, she barely could say anything without having to fight back tears. It was worse than PMS. "I am."

It seemed like the confirmation lifted the invisible barrier that was holding the people in the room in place, because everyone seemingly burst into action from all around her, blurting out questions and letting out little happy exclamations or excited squeaks. The noise was so sudden and so loud, the family all moving at the same time to reach Kate that her nephew got frightened, letting out a loud, wailing cry. 

"Alright, just a moment, excuse me, please. Coming through, thank you." Simon barreled his way through the crowd of people all speaking one over the other, pulling Anthony behind him by the shirt. "I believe this is mine," he said, picking up his scared son, who burrowed quickly into his father's chest, his tears drying immediately. "And this here is yours." He sat Anthony on the empty space at the loveseat with a cheeky grin. Kate's future husband seemed perfectly content to have been pushed around the room and quickly wrapped his arm around her, his hand resting at the side of her quickly rounding stomach, just as he had taken to doing for the past month. Since they'd gotten together, Anthony was always touching her in one way or another. A brush of his fingers to push her hair from her face, a hand on her waist, a soft touch at the back of her neck. But since they had found out about their baby, Anthony's hand was always on her.  "I am really happy for the two of you, you'll be excellent parents." 

"Thank you, Si." Kate smiled as he bent down to press a quick kiss to her cheek, urging his son to do the same.

"Now if you'll excuse me, Augie and I are going into hiding." He told them, fixing the baby on his hip with a smirk. "I'll leave you to them. Really happy and all. Good luck." 

He was gone through the sea of people around them before any other words could be exchanged, leaving the soon-to-be newlyweds and parents-to-be in the clutches of their loving family and their gleeful, excited questions.

Kate and Anthony Bridgerton had lied to their family before leaving on their honeymoon, and they were feeling only partially guilty for it. 

You see, they were not the type of people who enjoyed surprises. Both Kate and Anthony were planners and thrived on having all the possible, available information on their hands in order to make the most of the situation with as fewer issues as possible. This applied to their work lives, to simple things in their daily routines and to talks about the future. So when their OBGYN asked if they wanted to know the gender of their baby they agreed on the spot. And so she told them. 

But when their mothers and siblings questioned them about it, they said it wasn't possible to see it yet and that they'd probably find out in their next appointment, after they returned from the trip. 

There was a reason for that, of course. They had planned a nice little surprise to announce, not only the gender but also the name of their child. Anthony and Kate had agreed on names both for a boy and for a girl very quickly, although they had kept that to themselves as well. 

So roughly a week after finding out their child would be a boy, Kate and Anthon boarded a plane to Piemonte, Italy, with a whole scheme set up for their little surprise gender reveal. For everyone else, they'd be posting a bunch of photos showing Kate's bump around Italian museums and monuments saying "Baby's first trip. Of course, he'd be into art."  But their family deserved a bit more than an Instagram post with a funny caption. 

Kate spent the entire week hand-painting wooden boxes in black and gold and had copies of their ultrasound pictures made. Kate had sent her husband out for art supplies, password padlocks and t-shirts she could paint on and take out while she worked and he obliged her every single whim while reminding her to eat, drink some water and take a couple of breaks. And then the little chest had been finished, safely locked and left in possession of a few trusted friends. Agatha Danbury was responsible for handing Mary, Violet and Simon and Daphne's boxes. Penelope Featherington would give Colin, Eloise and Edwina theirs and Henry, their friend from the Galery, would be responsible for Ben's. Frannie would be responsible for her own box, as well as Hy and Greg's since she had pinky promised Anthony she wouldn't tell a soul. Francesca was the only one they trusted to do this.

Early in the morning of the day they had agreed to the surprise, Anthony sent a text to their family group, telling them they'd be receiving a small present for them and that, under no circumstances, they were to open the boxes before their group call at 1 PM. 

Anthony and Kate were bickering in a quiet corner of a Fiorentinian cantina when the time of the call came. One of the best things about entering her second trimester was that the morning sickness had faded. On the other hand, her cravings had been getting progressively stronger and she would randomly have a desperate need for a specific dish or ingredient while other things she had previously excited to have looked like the most unappetizing thing in the world.

That was what had fueled their current bickering. Kate had ordered a Pappardelle al ragù di cinghiale, which was a flat pasta with some boar meat sauce while Anthony had chosen a Gnocchi alla Sorrentina, which was just the little round pasta with tomato and mozzarella sauce. Unfortunately, the moment the food was placed in front of them, Kate knew with absolute certainty she wouldn't be able to eat hers, while Anthony's looked exactly like her gastronomic dream come true. 

"You have your own food, you know?" He had asked with a raised eyebrow the moment she reached for his plate with her fork, hers going completely ignored. 

"Bug wants the gnocchi, Anthony." She shrugged, scooping some of the potato dough and sauce into her fork. "It's not my fault."

"Couldn't you have ordered gnocchi for you, then?" Her husband rolled his eyes, but he was already swapping the plates between them. 

"I don't know what to tell you, love." A huge smile broke into her face as he placed the pasta in front of her. "He's the boss, not me. And I didn't know he wanted the gnocchi until I saw it." Kate couldn't hold back the moan when she shoved a forkful of the food into her mouth. God, that was the best thing she'd ever eaten in her life. She could spend the rest of her life eating just that. 

Anthony just eyed the way her mouth closed around the fork for a few moments, a different type of hunger burning in his eyes, before he cleared his throat loudly. 

"I'm joining the call," He warned. "Please stop being indecent with your food." 

"You love it." She scoffed, licking her lips a bit more seductively than she would normally have. 

"I really, really do." He agreed, with his gaze following the path of her tongue. "But I don't think our mothers and siblings need to see it." 

Kate just stuck her tongue out at him as the call connected. They were bombarded with questions the moment the sound came in. They could see Mary and Edwina in their living room, with Newton at Kate's sister's lap. Violet had the children and Francesca on the dinner table, each of them sitting in front of their own box, their names shining on top of it in golden ink. Daph and Simon were sitting in their bed, little Augie on his father’s lap, his own box between his parents’. Ben, Colin and Eloise were sitting all clutched together in what seemed to be Ben's living room floor. 

"What's going on?" 

"Oh finally, I've been itching all morning!"

"Would you two care to explain...?"

"CAN WE OPEN IT NOW?!"

"Kate, did you paint those yourself?"

"Why was Frannie aware of this and I wasn't?"

"Wait, Francesca knew it?!" 

"Are you kidding me?!"

 "I'm muting everyone if you start at this," Anthony told them, strictly. 

"I'd like to see you try." Colin taunted and his brother instantly silenced their line. 

"Anyone else?" Little mumbles of no and shaking of heads followed his question. "Thank you. So, Kate and I had some interesting news at our last ultrasound and..." 

"Is it twins?" Daphne interrupted, with wide eyes. "Because if it is, I'm going to have to sit down for this." 

"Not twins," Kate assured her with a laugh. "Only one little bug here, I promise." 

You’re already sitting. Eloise wrote in the group chat. Please unmute us, Colin promises he will behave.

"Guys, just get on with this, Mama's going insane here," Ediwna begged, looking way closer to hysterics than her mother was. 

"You're all so impatient," Kate giggled, wrinkling her nose. “Suppose we should let them open it now, yeah?”

“Maybe we could let them wait for a little longer?” Anthony suggested, a teasing smirk on his lips.

“Anthony Bridgerton!”

“Don’t you dare!”   

“I’m smashing this open now if you don’t give us the code.” 

“Alright, alright!” He laughed. “Go on then, the password is 1811.” 

There was the heavy sound of metal clicking and hurried hands against the wood before they were replaced by whoops of triumph as each of their family members managed to open the lock. 

"Oh my God, you two, I'm shaking here." Violet let out a quiet little laugh. "We can open it, right?" 

"Please do, but don't do anything else yet." Kate nodded, her husband's hand finding hers under the table. Christ, she was already on the brink of tears. At least this time, her husband look as right about to cry as she did. Across the screen, ohs and ahs were filling the air. 

"Maybe someone..." Anthony cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice steady. "could read it aloud?" 

"Me, me, me, me!" Hyacinth was jumping up and down in her chair. "I'll do it, let me." She barely allowed her brother to nod before she started reading the words painted in loopy cursive at the top lid. "Hi, family. This is me. Oh, look there is a little arrow pointing to the ultrasound. That's really cute." 

"Hyacinth, on with it, focus!" Ben snapped. 

"Right, sorry." The youngest Bridgerton giggled. "This is me. I know that all of you already love me very much and I can't wait to meet all of you in November. But that's a long time from now so I thought I could introduce myself. Nice to meet you, I'm..."

Hyacinth looked up from the lid, blinking at them with big, green eyes filled with expectation. 

"You can open the wrapped thing now," Kate instructed and they were all tearing at the thin paper, tugging on bows until they unwrapped a shirt. 

"Oh, guys...!" Daphne choked on her words with a watery sniff. "Ned's Auntie Daph." Kate had decorated each shirt by hand, each of them reading Ned's and the person's title. There was Ned's Granny Mary and Grandma Violet, a bunch of Uncles and Aunties. Augie's read 'Ned's big cousin/best friend Augie.' "I love this so much." 

"Ned?" Violet asked softly, tears running down her face. 

"It's a boy?!" Greg cried out in excitement. 

"I'm going to be his godmother?!" Edwina squeaked, her hands shaking so hard she could barely hold the fabric up. "Look, Ned's Godmother Eddie! The shirt says it, you can't take it back now! I have proof!"

"I'm going to spoil my godson so bad," Ben commented, a laugh mingling with his crying as he held the shirt to his chest. "I'll be unbearable, you're going to regret this choice so hard." 

"Katie!" Mary cried out, calling attention to herself. "Is this...?" 

Kate had been crying since Hyacinth had started reading the message out loud and all she could do was nod at her teary stepmother across the screen. 

"What, what is it?" Edwina was basically climbing over her mother to see what she had seen. "Is this what?" 

"It's his name," Mary commented, her fingers tracing the name they had settled for the baby the week after they found out he existed and that Kate had painted on the bottom of the box with golden ink. 

Edmund Arjun Bridgerton.

"Oh, Anthony..." Whatever Violet was planning to say next was muffled by her own sobs. There wasn't one person with dry eyes in the entire call apparently. Daphne had her face hidden in her husband's shoulder. There were wet tracks over all their siblings' cheeks, even Eloise was trying to brush hers away without much success. 

"I hope this is alright..." Anthony cleaned his face with his free hand with a sniff. "We wanted to name them after our fathers and..." 

"Your dad would be so proud of you, my boy," Violet told him, smiling softly at her son and daughter-in-law over the camera, her shoulders still shaking. "All he wanted... All both of us wanted was for our children to be so incredibly happy, and look at you now..."

"Thank you, Mum." Kate squeezed her husband's hand lovingly before turning to her own stepmother's little image on the screen. Mary was still staring at the box in awe, tracing the letters with the tip of her fingers. 

"Mama?" Kate's voice was just a tiny thing as she called the woman who had raised her. "Is it alright?" 

"It's more than alright, dearest." Mary looked up to Kate with bright, teary eyes and the biggest, softest smile lighting up her own face. "It's perfect. Appa would have loved it so much."

"You think so?" Kate missed her father so much and she desperately wanted her son to have a little bit of her father, even if they'd never have the chance to meet in this life. But when Anthony asked her about naming their son after their fathers, the idea of hearing her beloved Appa's name whenever someone called her child made her chest hurt. She had been slowly and steadily healing from her loss, but it was still too fresh for her. And then her husband had suggested having it as a middle name, just a bit of the man that had created Kate for their baby to always quietly carry with him and…. Yes, that could work. She liked it like that. It was a bit of both the men that had shaped his parents into the people they were and the men they hoped their child would be like. 

"I know so, Beta." She laughed gently. "He'd probably be here dancing around the room and calling every single member of the family back in India to tell them about his grandson." 

Kate choked back on a snort and next to Mary, Edwina threw her head back in laughter. It was exactly what their Appa would do. He'd probably be humming a song as well as he did so. 

"Now that we all asserted it was an amazing name, which it is, really brilliant by the way, it’s great, Dad would really have loved it," Colin spoke up. "Why is Ben the Godfather? I mean, I expected Simon, but Ben?!"

"There wouldn't even be a Ned if it weren't for me." Benedict scoffed, looking downright offended. "I introduced the two of them!"

"You cannot keep rubbing that on everyone's faces forever." 

"I believe I most certainly deserve being my brother's first child's godfather for that, thank you very much." 

"I completely understand having Ben and Edwina as godparents." Daphne chimed in with a little self-satisfied smirk as Simon was putting Augie's new shirt on him.

"Thank you, Daph." 

"And as am a very graceful person, I don't mind not being the godmother of their first child. I'll love my little nephew either way." She said. "We can be the godparents of their second, I'm patient, I can wait and..." 

"I'm sorry, Anthony has other sisters, you know?" Francesca interrupted. 

"Yeah, why would he pick you?" Eloise rolled her eyes.  

"He could pick me." Hyacinth agreed, her three sisters turning to look at her. 

"He can't pick you."

"Yeah, you're too little. And you're already his baby. It wouldn't even be fair." Hyacinth stuck her tongue at the camera. 

"I mean he could totally..." Anthony just clicked on the end call button before Daphne could drone on about their hypothetical second child and said child's possible godparents.

"Anthony!" Kate tried to scold him, but she couldn't even stop laughing to do so. "That was rude!"

"We did what we were going to do." He told her matter-of-factly, picking up his fork. "They can keep that argument on without us there, we're having lunch." He eyed the empty plate in front of her. "Or at least I am...?"

"It was really good," Kate told him, looking down miserably at the plate. 

"Do you want another one?" He asked with a sigh, already calling their waiter over without even waiting for the answer he knew he would get. 

"And maybe some bread too?" Anthony rolled his eyes with no heat behind them, ordering the food in his broken Italian and she was smiling brightly when he turned back to her. "You know..." She mumbled, her hand coming up to brush his hair from his forehead tenderly. "I think you fainting in that restaurant was the best thing that's ever happened to me." 

Her husband let out a loud, sonorous laugh before leaning in, pressing their lips together in a deep kiss. "If I'd known having emergency surgery would end up with me married to the love of my life who's expecting our baby, I'd probably have done it much sooner."

"You're so stupid." She giggled against his lips. 

"Well, I guess that's what makes us so well-matched, isn't it?" He kissed the side of her mouth and then the tip of her nose, making her giggle again. Kate didn't know happiness like this even existed much less imagined she would one day have it. "Since we're one and the same and all that." 

"I suppose you're right." She said with a fake pensive pout, which Anthony couldn't resist kissing. 

"My, my, wife." He shook his head, sending a shiver down Kate's spine. "Admitting I'm right? Marriage sure has changed you, hasn’t it?."

"It's the pregnancy hormones, husband." She mumbled back. "Don't get used to it. "

"I wouldn't dream of it." 

Kate knew she was still in the very beginning of her path through motherhood and, all things considered, she still had a lot to go through in life at only 27 years of age. But, still, she could tell with absolute certainty childbirth was one of the worst experiences she'd ever been through, and it would not be easy to find something to rival it. 

Pregnancy had been a rollercoaster. Her back hurt, her feet swell, her boobs were sore and she looked like a puffy, waddling blowfish. Some food she loved dearly now gave her heartburn and she desperately needed to pee approximately every two hours. By her third trimester, she was moody and uncomfortable the majority of the time. And she was having to learn her life did not belong only to herself anymore, which was turning out to be a bit of a struggle and a point of contention between her and Anthony, who was constantly hovering over her, reminding her to slow down. 

But the good moments? The feel of her child moving inside her for the first time? The wonder in Anthony's eyes when he first felt it too? The excitement that brought tears to her eyes wherever she heard Ned's heartbeat, always strong and steady through the ultrasound? The way their family just loved her and her baby so openly and limitlessly? The way their son would dance inside her stomach whenever Anthony was speaking around her? The hours awake in bed together, imagining what their baby would be like when he was finally here? That completely compensated for the bad times. 

Pregnancy had been a mostly positive experience for her. Childbirth, on the other hand? She couldn't see a single positive aspect of it. 

She'd been in what her doctor had called active labour for over six hours, feeling horrible shooting bouts of pain through her entire body that were quickly getting longer and stronger, which her doctor told her was a good thing?! Because it meant the baby was coming?! 

No, no, no. Ned could stay inside her. It would be safer this way anyway. Kate could protect him like that. 

She had moved up and down around the room, shuffled around in bed, moaning and groaning and probably cursed her husband a thousand times until her doctor had checked her dilation and vitals and cheerily announced everything was running smooth and it was time to start pushing. She hated the woman right at that moment. 

Anthony was there, holding her hand, letting her squeeze it until she all but broke his fingers every time the doctor instructed her to push and, apart from a grunt or a groan, he hadn't complained a pip about it. Even if she seemed ready to bite his head off and swore she'd never allow him to touch her again, he had remained steady, whipping her sweaty brow, giving her sips of water, going through the breathing exercises with her and whispering comforting and reassuring words of encouragement in her ear that had her almost crying every damn time. You're doing great, sweetheart. You're so strong, so brave. I'm in awe of you. I love you so much. You can do it. We'll have Bug here soon. 

Her husband had been an absolute champ throughout the whole pregnancy process, even if he had been an annoying overprotective hooverer the entire time. He didn't miss an appointment, catered to her cravings, rubbed her sore back and feet whenever she asked and helped her through her sour moods and panic attacks.  He stayed up with her when she couldn't sleep and spoke soothingly to their son until he calmed when he was wracking havoc inside her. 

Kate really did love the man more than she could say. She was in just a lot of pain. He certainly understood. And if he didn’t, he could try being the one pushing their baby out.

It had already been dark outside for at least a couple of hours when the doctor told her, "Just a couple more, Mummy. And then we'll be done and your baby will be here."

Kate screamed as she pushed, the contraction wracking through her body until she was almost out of breath, Anthony's knuckles white from the pressure she was putting on them.

"I can see his head." The doctor announced from between her legs. 

"I can't do this anymore." She cried, dropping her body against the bed, Anthony's moist washcloth soothing the hot skin on her face. “I can’t, make it stop.”

"Yes, you can. It's almost over, love." He kissed her fingers and Kate lifted her eyes to find her husband looking at her wide-eyed and ashy. 

"You look pale." She said hoarsely. "You're not going to faint on me now, are you Mr Bridgerton?" She asked, chuckling weakly at their old joke. 

"I might," Anthony said back, his tone just a bit too serious as he looked towards where the doctor was with a nervous frown. 

"Anthony, don't you daAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" The pain had her body shooting out of the bed, Anthony's free arm moving behind her to hold her steady as she crushed his hand in her fist, tears streaming down her face. And then when the blinding pain was gone, Kate dropped down back to the bed in exhaustion, and a loud piercing wail rang clear through the room. 

"He's here, Kate! You did it!" The doctor cooed, speaking over her son's little cries. Kate desperately tried to sit up, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to get a glimpse of her baby, but she couldn't. 

"Anthony!" Kate tugged on her husband's arm, trying to use him as leverage to host herself upwards despite the ache in her body. "I can't see him! Can you?"

"Yeah, I can." His voice was far away, his gaze glued to the place where the loud wailing was replaced with a soft little whimper. His entire face was frozen in wonder, tears running freely down his face. "Kate, he's..." He blinked, turning to look at her for a moment, his fingers still holding onto her hand, but this time it seemed like he was the one who needed to be held together. "God, Kate... I..."

"Everything seems alright, guys." The doctor assured her and maybe Kate didn't hate the woman all that much after all. "You'll be able to hold him in just a second, as soon as we cut the cord. Daddy, do you want to do it?" 

Anthony went even paler, his eyes wide as he stared at the woman who was holding their child as if he hadn't even heard her. 

"Anthony," Kate poked his arm with the little strength she had left. "Are you going?"

"Yes, I..." He shook his head, trying to get rid of the fog in his brain, still ignoring his wet eyes. "I want to do it, yeah." 

"Don't faint!" Kate ordered as he let go of her hand. She was mostly joking, but he did look a bit unsteady on his feet. 

"I won't." He answered, following the nurse who was motioning to him to come forwards, whispering under his breath. "I think..."

Kate let her body drop back into the reclined bed.  The thirty seconds that took the medical team and her husband to clip and cut the umbilical seemed like the longest of her life. And then Anthony was back, carrying a little bundle in his arms, his eyes shining with more love and adoration than she'd ever imagined possible. She shuffled in bed to a more sitting position, instantly reaching out to the little baby wrapped in a soft white blanket. 

"Here's your Amma, Bug," Anthony whispered lovingly, gently placing their son in her waiting arms and, at that moment, everything else in the world around them disappeared on the spot. Kate could barely breathe, all air appeared to have vanished from her lungs, every thought other than the baby in her arms and the man next to her vanishing from her mind. The moment he deposited their child safely into her arms, Anthony turned to her, pressing a soft kiss to her lips and another to her forehead, tears running freely down his face, dripping from his chin into his medical gown. 

"Hey, you," Kate whispered, tracing her fingers over the smooth pink skin of her son's cheek. Oh God, her son! Her Ned! She stared at that little thing that had been living inside her for the most part of the past year, jumping around and not letting her sleep with his tiny feet against her ribcage and he was the most perfect thing in this world. "Oh, look at you..."

Edmund curled against his mother's chest the moment he heard her voice, the whimpering stopping as he lay against the warmth of her chest, his little plump lips smacking together. There was a shocking amount of brown hair at the top of his head, wet and gooey and curling at the tips. His eyes were big and round with that greyish hue all newborns had. His skin was coppery, lighter than hers but darker than Anthony's. He had Anthony's cheekbones and his long, straight nose. Actually, apart from his huge wide eyes and the way his hair curled in itself, Edmund looked so much like her husband it was almost funny. Even just a couple of minutes old, Kate already knew he'd be the spitting image of his father and she absolutely loved it. 

"He's perfect," Kate whispered to her husband in awe, her fingers tracing the smooth baby skin of his arm until she reached the tiny hands, his slim little fingers wrapping themselves instantly around her finger. 

"He is." Anthony agreed with a wobbly voice, kissing the top of Kate's head again. "Thank you." He whispered into her hair. "Thank you, thank you thank you." Each time, he peppered her with more warm, wet kisses. "Thank you for him and for coming into my life and for absolutely everything."

"Your Papa's being silly, Neddy," Kate told her baby with a chuckle which was mixed with a small sob. "I'm the one who should be thanking him." Kate turned her face, pressing her lips to her husband's wet cheek before looking back to the child they'd made together. "Every day, I think it's impossible to be more happy than I already am, and every day I prove myself wrong." 

"I love you two so, so much, Kate." He whispered, his fingers brushing the curls atop their son's head reverently. "I'll do everything I can to be a good father, I promise." He choked at his own words for a moment. "I'm not... I know I'm not perfect but I will do everything I can…." 

"You already are more than enough love," Kate told him decisively, her eyesight blurry from all the crying. "Bug and I are really lucky to have you." 

"I'm most certainly the lucky one." He kissed Kate's wrinkled nose. 

"Now it's not the time to argue with me, mister." She tutted at him. "I just spent over 7 hours pushing your child into this world. Just say ‘yes, ma'am’." 

"Yes, ma'am." He laughed. "I'm so happy I could burst." He confessed, caressing the side of their son's face as the baby blinked slowly towards his father's voice. "I barely even know what to do with so much joy." 

"I know." Kate let her head fall to Anthony's shoulders with a tired little smile. In her arms, Ned let out a small sigh, his eyes blinking slowly until they were closed. Sitting there with her husband's arms around her and their child curled safely to her chest, Kate felt what absolute bliss was like. "I feel like that too."

Perhaps, she was wrong. Giving birth wasn't even that bad, after all.

[yonderghostshistories]

I'm planning on starting that MP Regency AU fanfiction! What should I include? (U, PG and 18+ suggestions are all welcome!)

OH MY GOD YOU'RE ACTUALLY DOING IT?!?!!? LESS GOOOOOOO!!!!!

Ok uhh here's my suggestions!! :

-All (well technically 3) the Pythons have a really specific kinda Regency royal/heir-like title/nicknames to them based on where they were born (i.e some random examples; John Cleese, Earl of Weston-super-Mare, Captain/Admiral/General Graham Chapman, Duke of Leicester, Terry "Jonesy" Jones, Baron of Colywn Bay of North Wales). Then you have Vicar Michael Palin (of Sheffield), Baron Terry Gilliam from Paris, France (he says he's a Baron but the others don't really believe him and thinks he's really a phony or something lol), and self proclaimed "Maestro" Eric Idle (from the local Cheshire pub). Then you also have Stableboy Neil (Innes)/Neil the humble Stableboy, Countess Carol Cleveland and Countess Connie Booth (in this AU, Connie is Carol's older half-sister/cousin) of London, Lieutenant David Sherlock (Gray's second-in-command in the army, and also love interest but pretends to just "be friends" so to not make people suspicious about their relationship with eachother, etc!

-Gray is both a highly respected army official by day (at work technically), and a promiscuously gay playboy by night (when he has the time off doing the army business). He smokes alot too.

-Jonesy ends up with Regency era Denise Coffey and learns that she's not as "bad" as anyone makes her out to be. She's considered"bad" because she's apparently "too common" to fit with society. In other words, society thinks she's "too unattractively normal" to be considered pretty, to which she politely says bullshit to :).

-John and Gray are childhood best friends with eachother. Michael and Jonesy are also childhood best friends with eachother. Eric and Terry tags along as well.

-John becomes instantly uhh "emo" and tragic and moody and cold because of his recent breakup with his (ex-)fiancé Connie, even though they just broke up since almost a week ago. He mopes about it all the bloody time that even his friends start to get annoyed by it all, and it makes even his own sappy poetry look like decent stuff.

-Eric and Neil meet up at the weekends to play as a musical duo at the local Cheshire pub. Eric is, ofc, sorta homeless, meaning he has to to stay over at Neil's cottage house but also stay at the local taverns until he has to pay rent.....but mostly he chills out at Neil's house.

-Eric gets a "rags to riches" kinda story where, with the help of Gray who just so happen to be at the local Cheshire pub to "meet a special friend of his" (which is ofc David) in which Gray overhears the pretty good singing, he agrees to hire Eric as his servant and give him a permanent place to stay and enough money to live by. Eric is ecstatic ofc!

-Michael is a kind and innocent vicar, a follower of god, but he's a bit horny too! He particularly has a crush on a nice and kind woman called Helena (who runs the local bookshop in the town). Mike has the hots for Helen but knows he can't actually ask her out due to him being religious and stuff and it apparently going against the rules to marry whilst preaching about god or something. However, he tries to get around this by starting out slow, via becoming companions with Helena by helping her with the bookshop part-time. It all seems going to plan. However, things start to get a bit too *spicy* when Michael accidentally sees Helena in her regency era undergarments (which is a "stay"-kinda undergarment) just as she was about to get unchanged. As if it couldn't get any worse, the stunned Michael commits the greatest sin he has ever committed.......he sees a bit of her bare back. That alone is enough to make Michael faint. Helena, being the good and understanding friend she is, helps Michael get back to life and takes care of the poor soul. Michael is grateful for Helena helping him, but feels guilty for seeing her like that. Helena tells him that it's ok and that it was an accident at the end of the day. Michael smiles, and out of the repressed passion he held back for all these years, he slowly cups her face and begins kissing Helena, and Helena, at first surprised, is then quickly eased and understands and kisses back Michael. Michael and Helena then have the most excruciatingly passionate sex that night, and both are left satisfied.

-Gray meets David in an abandoned farmhouse, and they both announce their feelings for one another, and they both kiss passionately and uhh have the most beautiful gay sex one could ever hope.

-There's alot of "characters running through the moors" whenever the character starts a new relationship, romantic or platonic.

-Gray wakes up naked every morning after each promiscuous affair.

-Terry the Parisian Artist develops a romance with the ""weird"" woman who runs the tailoring clothes shop, Ms Margret "Maggie" Weston. Terry & Maggie bond over their shared weirdness and love for absurdities in life.

-John and Connie began an (almost) lifelong romance (before they broke up) when they were young teenagers of about 16/15 at a ball one night. From there on, they hit it off with each other pretty well. The young John and Connie then sneakily exited from the ballroom, then they snuck out and playfully ran to the garden maze and then snogged each other all night long.

-The Pythons and Co go to a regency era fairground/carnival and have a lovely, fun time there. They also get to ride on the merry-go-round on the merry-go-round horses!

Uhh hope you enjoyed the ideas I gave! Let me know which of the ideas is your favourite and why? I absolutely can't wait to read it!!

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for proposing? I, (40's? M. I don't have a birth certificate) have been excluded from society for most of my life. So, I became a bit of a renaissance man. I've studied architecture, singing, politics, you name it, I've mastered it. Except human connection. I was born with a facial defect and it, well, people don't like to look at me. After a while, I built myself a large building and decided to rent out the space to this theater troupe. I just wanted a seat to the show and monthly rent. I'd stay out of their way otherwise. (I lived below the theater in this wonderful house) Anyway, after some time there, I found a wonderful student called C. (18, F) Her father had died when she was young and was in the group's ballet classes. I knew she had a great voice, so I pretended to be a spirit sent by her dad to teach her. I knew if I had just shown up, she wouldn't like me and I had already, er, "Fired" several people who had seen me or knew where I was living. Anyway, it went great, she made her debut, and then she went to date an old childhood friend! Which was... annoying. As I wanted to marry her, she was so beautiful, kind, and caring. In the mean time, in the wake of a firing, and old friend of mine (P, not sure on his age, are relationship is complicated) said I needed to stop so I went to take C back to my lair and - this is where I may be the Asshole - told her she would either need to marry me or I would blow up the theater with everyone inside of it. Look, I was never going to meet people anyway, she would LOVE to live down here with me, I've gotten a way to disguise my facial deformities, and yeah I may have, er, fired her supposed Fiancee's brother but he had tracked me down! I do need my privacy. What else was I supposed to do? I'm waiting to see what she chooses as her fiancée and P are currently enjoying a great spa I've cooked up for them. One in the desert. With one metal tree. But as I'm waiting, AITA?

[that-one-ya-pagan-book]

Penelope Smith

Daughter of Oceanus| Devotee of Lady Amphitrite | Attendant Of Lord Zeus

[Moodboard Created By Me | Images All Found On Bing]

Name: Penelope Smith

Penelope - "Weaver"/Namesake of Penelope of Ithaca

Smith - Common American Last Name; Associated With Blacksmiths, Armorsmiths, and similar workers.

Parentage: Daughter of Oceanus; Pagan Father

Pronouns: She/Her in the Nonbinary Sense

Age: 19

↳ My purpose will always be to The Gods. They are my strengths, as well as my weaknesses, and I am okay with that. Go ahead, use Them against me. I dare you.

Ethnicity: African-American

Backstory:

Penelope Smith was born to an African American Pagan Father deep down in the American South who was adopted by a rich, white, Christian family. Deep down, they still loved the one who did not look their own, but each day they spent trying to convert him and Penelope to their ideals. Her Grandmother spoke Christian stories to her each night at bedtime and for the longest of times, Penelope saw nothing wrong with it. She enjoyed the stories, sure, but they were no different than "fairy-tales," but eventually saw how angry they seemed to get at her for not being "inspired" by such tales and took it out on her father to his very grave. From then, she was forced to pray every minute with them--which she did not mind, the monotone and Higher Purpose calmed something in her--but she never found herself truly believing in what she was talking to. Eventually, while her father was alive, she started school on Olympus and learned about the Greek Gods and she hasn't truly looked back since. She is still a highly religious Woman, though, so she participates in her family's lives as avidly as she can, which sates them just a little bit.

Powers: Tarot Cards; The Power of Oceanus, Demi-Titan Strength

Weapons: Tarot Cards; Bow & Arrow

Characters That Inspired My Creation Of Her: Annabeth Chase, Rogue, Tim Bradford, Lucy Chen, Sky Tate

Likes: Allowing Herself To Be Angry [Hello Anger Issues]; Being Challenged; Playing Board Games [She Likes To Play With Her Food /j]; Her Fiancé [Michael. He The Greenest Of Flags <33]; Horse-Riding; Teaching

Dislikes: The Effects Of Her Anger Issues [Thanks, Reality...]; Anti-Zeus Rhetoric [That Is Her King.]; Anti-Hellenic Gods Rhetoric [Annoying. Simply Annoying]; Politics [She Was Born & Lives In Texas]

Enemies: "The Gatsby"

Fun Facts:

Penelope's Fiancé's name is Michael and they've been together for around 8 years now--when Michael first asked her to dance in middle school a few years after her dad died--. People either thought they were going to last or crash and burn, but they did neither and grew to be stronger people together. Michael didn't even mind her altars and Paganism--all he did was smile awkwardly and skirt around it as not to disturb it because he himself knew what it was like to love God and would hate his own things to be disturbed. Eventually, he went on a deep-dive to learn about the specifics but that was really solidified their relationship--his openness and willingness to learn more about Penelope to make it work. Penelope already had the habits of easily accommodating for people, and so they fell into easy steps as she moved easily to accommodate for him as soon as he entered and he rambled off about his day as soon as she was in earshot. They the cutest thing [he even learned how to Offer something and asked Lord Zeus, Lord Poseidon, & Lady Amphitrite for her hand in marriage!! So cute-]

Penelope's main strength is her ability to keep things up for hours on end. She can sit still for hours--blame Texas--and ride a horse for even longer. She can study for hours on end and write for days. She just has this ability to turn her brain all the way off and let time roll off of her in waves (heh? get it-) and it makes very few things become chores. And, she's just Used to it. The mode itself has always been there--especially since she was always a silent and observant kid--but it took a few years to harness it and be able to turn it on instead of the overwhelming anger that was her other automatic move.

Penelope is also very prone to overstimulation, which is a main trigger of her anger issues along with the lack of control that came with her fathers' situation + death. She's gotten used to handling it, but as soon as something starts, things just don't stop. And hell hath no fury than a southern black woman scorned. She doesn't like the fact that she has to do "damage control," hold back her anger, or even have to deal with it in general, but she begrudgingly gets it with the stern look of her Patrons.

Penelope is one of the main "Counselors" upon Olympus for both the Summer and various sports. Since there are quite a few kids who do not have families to return to or support to live with, Olympus hosts them year-round and so the older Demigods & Worshippers [some of whom are completely mortal & are invited upon Olympus under special/specific circumstances] put it upon themselves to host little mini-"camps" like mortals have on earth to both teach and entertain the little hellions. And Penelope teaches both Archery, Horse-Riding, and hosts Quiet/Study Sessions for them to attend if they just need something to quell their minds. She's highly adored among the kids--no matter her preference for silence and general stand-off demeanor she gets outside of her Worship--especially because they know she will defend them to high or hell water if anything happens to them. She's reprimanded gods to save "her kids" and has the backing of Lord Zeus at her disposal--the world truly is her oyster and everyone but Penelope knows that.

She's studying Marine Microbiology to help combat the pollution crisis plaguing the Oceans!

[strawberrickyyy]

Shen Ricky || Over Me (Vampire AU)

an: Sorry in advance for grammatical errors, etc. my english is poor :(( i also wrote this solely to feed my inner kink lol

tw: blood, light smut - NSFW content

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proceed to read at your own risk,,,

Silky red ribbon tied your hair neatly, you wore a plain black dress decorated with red roses on the skirt. You were staring at the moon by the window of the library. Pale skin and hazel eyes, he suddenly hugged you from behind, smelling your scent. You turned to him and he pulled you closer by your waist. He smiled as he caressed your rosy cheek before he leaned forward to peck on your red lips. You were excitedly having his soft plump pink lips which the kiss gradually turned passionate and a sharp pain flinched you when he bit your lower lip bleeding lightly.

 

“My apologies, ma’am...” A guilt shown on his face. He helplessly thirsty and needed to be feed after his long day on a boring journey with the king. He hated politics but he got no choice when he was the first born and the heir of the throne. As his fiancée, you understand him a lot that he won’t be feeding from someone else’s blood other than you and his royal family. Although he used to drink from any aristocrat but since after he has bonded by blood with you, he was somewhat drawn to you affectionately. Some call it a soulmate thing because mostly vampire attached to his partner by tasting her blood for the first time and immediately addicted to the only person.

 

“It’s alright, come here.” You held his face and kissed him. He pushed you against the wall as you wrapped your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. He moaned while actually sucking the blood on your lips. Unsatisfied, he ghosted your lips to bite on your neck a bit roughly. You breathed heavily out of nervousness at him rushing to drink from your neck. He then slowly stopped after holding himself back. Your wound healed right after he licked it and he kissed you longingly before he finally freed you.

 

You both looked at each other in silence before you broke the silence by asking how he was doing.

“It must be hard for you to always listen to the king. But I want you to know that you did great already so keep it up.” You smiled reassuringly at him but he sighed and took your hand to walk together towards the study desk. He lifted you up to let you sit on the table.

 

“I’m exhausted... I feel burdened by the fact everyone expects so much from me. And father scolded me because I wasn’t pay attention at today’s lessons.” He pouted.

 

“Pity you but why weren’t you paying attention to your studies? Of course His Highness was disappointed and he scolded you for your own good.”

 

“Oh wow. Now you are talking exactly like what mother said to me last evening. Out of everyone, you’re the only one I feel comfortable talking to honestly. I thought you could understand me... But now you don’t.” He tried to walk away before you pulled his hand to stop him. Your thumb caressed his knuckles.

 

“Did I just hurt your feelings? Aww my fault, I sincerely apologize.” You softly patted his head.

 

“If you want me to forgive you, you need to do me a favour.” He abruptly moved closer to you. Inches from one another, he teased you when he was about to peck your lips but he didn’t instead he nuzzled to your neck as his breathing tingled against your skin.

 

“When I was whining, even though I was being noisy and annoying..” He paused to lean backward and grabbed your chin.

 

“You aren’t allowed to talk back, complain or giving me words like advice. I hate that. Unless when I asked you.” His eyes coldly stared into your eyes. “You know, darling. You’re so sweet, beautiful and the most smartest girl...” His slender fingers stroked your face and your hair.

 

“I also hate the fact that the person I love the most went out with another guy without my permission. I know you were with Matthew last morning. You told me about visiting the bakery but didn’t say with whom, I thought you were going with your brother. It bothers me so much, honey. Are you aware of my possession over you? Do I need to remind you again that you’re mine? Yes, I absolutely should do it.”

“Ricky, I- “

“No, who said you can talk?” He choked you. “You’re my fiancée, my bride, my wife-to-be and the future queen of our kingdom. You are mine and mine only foremost!” He tightened his grip around your neck as he smirked and amused to see your pathetic expression. You were in pain and almost losing your consciousness, he then kissed you to share his breath in which you caught a quick breath while doing so.

 

“... I was... Thinking about you.” He pinned you down, his voice became raspy as you both panted and looked at each other.  “I can’t focus on study.. Because I keep thinking about you. For real, nonstop.”

 

“I’m so sorry, Ricky... I didn’t mean to hurt you.. I supposedly went out with Giselle but.. She suddenly got an urgent call...”

 

He stole another kiss before he spoke. “Yeah.. I actually knew that. But when I heard that you were with someone else, specifically a guy. It drives me mad. I feel like I wasn’t enough for you. Am I the only one who is very fond of you? I love you so much, it is so insane, honey...”

 

“Ricky... I’m so sorry..”

 

“Stop apologizing! It seems like you have no feelings for me. It breaks me each time I hear that, you know?” He punched on the table and his hand shaking as he was in angry state. His breath was also hitched before he closed his eyes and breathed deeply to control himself.

 

You were silent. Intuitively nervous and sad. Slowly you sat comfortably as your hand reached to his face and caressed him.

“If I don’t love you.. I already call off our engagement a long time ago, my prince.”

 

“But you acted like you don’t care.. I felt so lonely in our relationship. Despite you are here, I feel that you are far from my grasp. Are you not happy with me?” His expression saddened.

 

“Ricky.. Being with you is one of my happiness.. But.. Have you ever put yourself in my shoes? You think I can be happy just like that?” You meant the torment you faced each day and the burden of standing by his side. It wasn’t easy for you to be a special person as important as the whole kingdom.

 

“You were overthinking, honey! All you need to care is about our love and relationship, can you understand that? Just enough if you admit and be honest with your feeling.”

 

“I am thinking about our relationship, my prince. It’s you who don’t understand..”

 

“Me? When you’re the one who are so hard on yourself? How so?” He was frustrated and tried his best to hold himself from being mad again. He was far too disappointed with the misunderstanding between you two. He closed his eyes, silent in deep thinking.

 

“I’m such a fool that I adore and intensely loving you, right? I can’t live without you, can’t imagine another day without you... I can’t handle it. Way more worse that I can’t stop thinking, I keep dreaming of you. Whether you are with me or far away.. I can’t hold myself from wanting you. It is extremely hard, the more I control myself, the more I need you..”

 

You frowned in concern. “Were you thirsty or drained too much?”

 

“Huh?” He was bewildered by your question. He was literally confessing his feelings to you and not at all expected you to think that he was only thirsty for you just because his energy drained from his daily fatigue.

 

“Let me rephrase... I wonder if you love me because of I’m your most tasty blood supply. But you clarified you love me because you need me, right? It can be subjective that you maybe actually just deeply drawn to my blood. Or probably you wanted me more than that. You felt something greatly like the urge to have me.”

 

“O oh, yeah.. Ugh darling, remember last time I invaded into your room because I can’t sleep?”

 

“Yes, you said you were.. Oh! I get it!” You gasped in excitement.

 

“Huh? What did you get?” He was confused once again, but more to he doesn’t want you to get the wrong and more complicated idea.

“Direct question. Prince Ricky, do you have a strong desire to get close to me lately? Maybe a dream of um.. we were making out?”

 

“D- do you have it too?” He blushed.

 

“Well, yeah. I did... I think that was because of.. The heat season? You know like mating?” You were also blushing to admit it.

 

“Yes, basically since we are mates... To be honest I don’t understand what I feel at first but now yea..” He sighed in relief. “So can I...” He paused as his eyes captivated you. “.. do you now?”

 

“I- I don’t think we can...” You shook your head as you understand his intention. “Because we aren’t married yet.” Nervousness spread inside you.

 

“We are betrothed for five years, darling. Don’t tell me you are afraid...?”

 

“Yes, I am. I’m not ready, Ricky...”

 

“Okay, I understand. I promise you I will not force you into such heavy stuff until you’re ready. So for this time... Can we do like a small make out? Please...” He was too desperate. He can't longer hold himself after almost two weeks he has had a lust over your body and couldn’t get it. It drives him crazy. He thought he was too obsessed with your blood that he can’t concentrate on his daily life even after he drank from his family member, but now he knew that he wanted you so much. Romantically and affectionately towards you, he is infatuated with your well-being.

 

“My love... I know you need me as well, don’t you?” He caressed your cheek after seeing your hesitation. His thumb slowly rubbed your lips before it slightly opened your mouth for you to grab his hand and bit his finger to feed from him. He smiled looking at you slowly sipping his blood. You then grabbed his shirt to pull him closer to you and nibbled on his collarbone. Your fang sunk into his skin and you slurping the blood just like you were drinking water.

 

Shen Quanrui is the royalty pureblood while you were just aristocrat vampire. Aristocrats were pureblood mostly but you were always insecure. You felt like you belonged to commoner and don’t deserve him because your deceased mother was a commoner who married your father who born in aristocrat family. You grew up with people taunted you as half commoner and a mongrel. Which lead to your fear of becoming the queen of the kingdom. You believed that people won’t trust and love you. The society wouldn’t accept you especially the nobles wholly don’t welcome you as their ruler.

 

Furthermore, you were afraid of commitment and responsibility. Aware of the lack in many skills, you were socially awkward, terrible at communication and interaction within the aristocrats. Your big brother was once like you, he was bad at blending in the community and your father taught him patiently until he was a great man now. Your father was a famous intellectual guy. He owned the biggest library in the town – Ricky often bribed you to come to his castle by bragging about how amazing the castle library was – and in fact your father was such a respectful lecturer of Lunaria academy – an academy for selected nobles where Ricky also attended. Both your dad and your brother were no longer care of what people ill-mouthed about your family.

 

Your family suited the aristocrat title more than anyone because of the self-made successful career of your father. Then, followed by your brother to continue the good deed in teaching the folk. He also visited the commoner site many times and taught the kids about reading and colouring. You as well, even before you were well-known as the fiancée of the crowned prince, you were in charge of managing the family library. Your father was the head and founder while your brother was the deputy president, and you were the trustworthy manager. Beside your bibliophile, you have an interest in strawberries that your family owned a farm and was a supplier to bakery, cafe, restaurant, and the castle.

People who were close to you know about your true nature. You and your brother were pureblood noble because your parents were true blood. Little did people know that your mother was secretly a long relative of royal family. Only your father and certain royalty knew about the secret.

 

Soon after satisfied your crave on your fiancé blood, you both then kissed on the lips passionately. Ricky lifted up your skirt and rubbed your thigh while nibbled on your neck to your collarbone. You helplessly let out a few shameless moans which turned him on more.

 

“Honey.. I don’t think I can hold back when you moan so sexily.. Those sweet voices of yours are my favourite song now.. What can I do? I want you more, sweetheart...” He squeezed your thigh while looking lustily at you.

 

“Mm? Maybe you could make me moan louder and scream if we keep going... But please not here, Ricky..”

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