#look i finally gave anthony a nose

[bleucalire]

[infiniteimaginings]

Could you write some angsty Anthony bridgerton x wife reader. Maybe he took his anger out on her cus he was stressed or something.💋😭😫🩷

A Loving Marriage (Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Anthony had married you, he adored you during your courtship. He showed his affections through floral arrangements, joyous laughter, your dance card always had his name first. When he married you though, some things changed. He would be warm, but it slowly dimmed. He was always in his office, he never spoke to you, why does he do so? Pronouns: You/Yours, She/Her Warnings: Angst Word Count: 4.0k A/N: I love angst, I love it! I looked at this request three times, midnight struck, and I turned into a writing goblin.

It had been a nice day, you had finally drawn your husband, Anthony Bridgerton, out of the house to have a delightful picnic with you. The two of you were discussing anything but pressing matters, laughing, eating the small sandwiches, drinking the sweet but tart lemonade. Occasionally your fingers would touch, a burst of energy escaping into your bodies until your fingers interlocked, accepting the warmth with open arms.

The sun was shining brightly, the clouds perfect white and fluffed into shapes the two of you pointed out and playfully teased each other for. The slight tilt of his head when you spoke of a cloud being shaped as one thing, his squinted eyes and scrunched nose were all that mattered to you. The way the sun kissed his skin and a few freckles had come to light, it was so beautiful to you, he was so beautiful.

When Anthony turned his gaze to you from the heavily brightened sky, the corners of his eyes crinkled with the smile he gave you. His toothy grin was matched with him asking, “What is it?” You paid no mind to the question, simply smiling at your husband, your heart warming as you stared at him in adoration. You shook your head, “I just love you.” You told him, the comment making him smile wide, his teeth showing in his grin. The day was beautiful, and neither of you could deny that fact. To make the day even more beautiful, flowers were spread around your blanket on the ground, showing proof of spring.

You began to ramble a bit about the newest items you saw in the shop, Anthony just listening with loving eyes. A bee had hummed and buzzed as it circled around your head, when Anthony noticed he straightened up, his eyes widening a bit in fear. He went to move the dreadful creature from you but the bee had found its attention with him instead, buzzing around his head. Anthony had fallen still, horrified.

Anthony had just returned from shooting with his father, Edmund Bridgerton. The elder man had clasped his shoulder, telling him that in due time he will be able to show someone his best. He gave him a truthfully meaningful message about having to show someone your worst before you can show them your best, but the message didn’t stay in Anthonys head very long.

The elder had noticed a group of vibrant purple Hyacinths within their gardens, his wife's favorite flower. He decided to pick the flowers with a hum, expressing how Anthonys mother would love them. The younger boy laughed and began to pick a few himself, his father standing up, swatting a very persistent bee, Anthony shaking his head playfully. He expressed how his younger sister would be quite jealous until he noticed his father had not responded.

”Father?” Anthony spoke, turning to Edmund, the man was touching his neck. “The bloody thing stung me.” He told his son, moving his hand a bit with a twitch of his mouth. A bee sting didn’t mean much, so Anthony nodded and continued to pick a few flowers until his father began to gasp for breaths. Anthony stood, walking to Edmund, “Father, what is it?” He asked, and that question would be repeated a multitude of times with no verbal response.

Edmund Bridgerton had turned to his son, a bright red patch on his neck where the bee stung him, his face extremely pale, his eyes almost black as he struggled to breathe. Anthony watched his father struggle for air and collapse into his arms. He couldn’t even hear when he yelled for someone to help, he didn’t even hear when his pregnant mother, Violet Bridgerton, had come running down the small hill after seeing them through the open door in the back of their home.

Everything happened so fast and all Anthony could process was his father reaching up to cup his mothers cheek one last time, before his hand fell and the light left his eyes. Edmund Bridgerton died that day, Violet Bridgerton became a widow that day, he and his siblings lost their father that day.

Anthony was abruptly snapped out of his thoughts when you swatted the bee away mindlessly. You hummed with a breathless chuckle, “You know it’s spring when the bees are out.” you spoke, looking in the basket for another small snack, unaware of the daze Anthony had just been in. He blinked a bit, looking around as he deeply inhaled, trying not to ruin your nice moment. He clapped his hands to his knees, “Well then.” He began, “I think I have some paperwork to attend to.” He told you, standing up and brushing himself off. You looked up rather quickly from your spot on the blanket, “Can’t it wait? We were having such a nice time.” You said, pouting ever so slightly.

He shook his head, leaning down to you, pressing his lips to yours in a short kiss. “Unfortunately it can not, enjoy the rest of the picnic.” He spoke hastily, walking back into the home, leaving you alone to watch the sky.

Days had passed, Anthony had not joined you again for a picnic, nor had he joined you for any sort of meal after that day. You didn’t understand why he felt the need to lock himself in his office, what was so interesting about paperwork he could tend to at any time? You were worried for him, you knew the footmen in the household brought him food, you just weren’t sure if he ate any of it.

With that, you decided to pay your husband a visit. You dismissed the footman at the door and simply knocked, a muffled ‘Come in’ came from the other side of the door. You gently opened it, smiling sweetly at Anthony who looked up at you, expressionless. You closed the door behind you, observing your surroundings and your husband who sat behind a desk, papers piling it. He looked like he hadn’t slept, if he had then he looked like her hadn’t slept well.

You walked to him, slow steps, the heels of your shoes sounding muffled as they clicked upon the polished floors. “You’ve locked yourself away.” You told him, standing in front of his desk, fingers twiddling in front of you. Anthony kept his eyes on you, quill pen in hands, plenty of papers around that needed signatures. He cleared his throat, “Well, some matter can not be left.” He told you simply, head looking back down to his work.

You walked around the desk, hands smoothing along his shoulders, he tensed more than relaxed. “You need a break.” You hummed to him, gently pressing your hands into the blades of his shoulders. Anthony leaned his head back into the chair, sighing, “I’m sorry my love, I just have so much work to do.” He told you with closed eyes, his mouth in a frown. Your expression mirrored his and you turned his chair a bit, taking his hands in yours. “We should go to town, go for a walk.” You suggested, “Maybe we could pick some flowers and visit your family.” You continued on, hands holding his slightly larger ones in yours.

You saying that seemed to invoke some sort of reaction from your husband, he removed his hands from you, “No.” He spoke harshly, turning back to the papers. You huffed, trying to get him to look at you, he wouldn’t budge. “Why do you refuse to spend time with me? Is your paperwork that important?” You pressed on, standing at his side, pure disbelief on your face.

Anthony put his clenched fists on the desk, “Yes, it is!” He spoke loudly, not looking at you. “You are interrupting very pressing matters, so go.” He told you, head turning to you ever so slightly, one hand raised to point to the door.

The outburst had shocked you, you stood there with a hand to your chest, a frown on your face, tears threatening to prick your eyes. “Anthony I merely hoped…” You began, trying to find the words, instead you found yourself stumbling over them. Anthony shook his head, hand to his temple as he looked back down to the papers, “I care not for your wishes, leave!” HeYou stood up straight, swallowing harshly with a small sniffle. You bowed your head to him, “Of course Mr. Bridgerton.”You spoke, walking out the room, hands clasped together and head held high as you left him alone to his work.

Anthony had not come to the bedroom that night and you had not visited his office for the rest of the day. Neither of you had come down for dinner, eating respectively in separate rooms.

The next day, mid afternoon, you walked into the office area with a tea tray. Typically, a maid would bring it in for you, but you had seemed to reject the idea and believed you were perfectly capable of doing it yourself. Anthony had heard the sound of the door opening, no knock, no announcement. He looked up and saw you setting the tea tray on the low table in front of the seats in the office. The tray had two teacups and saucers, a teapot with freshly brewed tea, a sugar bowl, a milk jug, and a strainer. All of which were porcelain with multicolored, delicately painted flowers and the Bridgerton name along the side.

Anthony sighed deeply, he didn’t look irritated, he just looked tired. “ Did I not tell you to leave me be?” He asked since you had not greeted him. You didn’t look at him as you prepared your cup of tea, “That is such a way to speak to your wife Mr. Bridgerton.” You spoke sarcastically, stirring in your sugar and taking a small sip to see if it were to your tastes. A warm smile formed on your face after you drank the warm liquid, sitting comfortably in the chair a little ways across from Anthony's desk, a table in the way of you being directly in front of his desk.

Anthony clasped his hands together, elbows on the desk, “What are you doing?” He asked, lips pursed. You placed your cup on the saucer, “If you truly believe I will let you sit in this office and rot,” You spoke, finally looking at him, “you are gravely mistaken.” You told him, expressionless. Anthony tilted his head to the side, he didn’t believe he was ‘rotting’ in the office space, but he couldn’t speak since you beat him to it. “I shall remain here and tend to you until you see fit to conduct yourself as a gentleman.” You stated, hands in your lap, straightening your posture, “Or to put sourly,” You began, “an adult.”

“Do not treat me like a child.” Anthony told you, hands dropping back to the desk, no movement towards the quills.

“Then do not act like one.”

“What has prompted this?”

You pretend to think for a moment, pulling up your hand to count, “Your blatant disregard for your wife in your own home,” You spoke as you put up a finger, “your refusal to acknowledge her presence or engage with her” you continued, putting another finger up, “or even talk to her.” You finished, putting up the last finger, slightly glaring at him.

There was silence from Anthony as he bit the inside of his cheek, twitching his nose. Due to the silence, you continued to speak, “I vowed to cherish and support you through all, but I will not endure your silence.” You explained, shaking your head a bit with your words. Anthony sighed, moving a few papers out of his way, “You are aware that traditionally wives do not-”

“You did not marry me due to my traditional nature.”

There was more silence from your husband until he ran a hand through his hair. “You will not leave until I discuss ill with you?” He asked, seeming to be contemplating the idea that he just spoke into existence. You nodded, “Precisely.”

“Very well, let’s discuss ills.”

The Bridgerton man stood from his desk and strode to sit next to you. You gestured to the tea and he shook his head, leaning forward, clasping his hands. His leg shook and tapped the floor as he struggled to find the words, “My fathers death left my mother heartbroken, she never remarried.” He spoke suddenly. The words confused you a bit, was that why he had been so closed off? You turned to him fully, crossing your leg over the other, “Your mothers strength,” You began, taking a breath, “is commendable.” You commented, the Brdigerton in front of you chose not to look at you but he nodded. “She said her love for your father was true and her devotion for your father lies strong.” You continued on, thinking about the older woman and how powerful she was for standing strong for her children. “She does not need to marry if she does not wish to.” You completed your thought at his words about his mother.

Anthony put his hands on his knees, straightening himself. He sucked his teeth, “I understand that,” He told you, “but you do not understand how she flinches when they refer to her as Dowager.” He continued on.

At parties they would announce Violet Bridgerton as Dowager VIscountess Bridgerton, and they have for the many years since Edmund Bridgerton had passed.

“My mother remains a widow.” Anthony continued, voice slightly cracking when he thought about the way his mothers hand would tighten around his arm when someone greeted her as ‘Dowager’.

You nodded in understanding, no matter how strong Violet was, it still hurt. You just didn’t process why that caused him to pull from you. “Nevertheless, I am not,” You told him, the words causing him to look put his face in his hands, “hence my lack of understanding of your coldness and sudden refusal to be with me.” You spoke, staring right at him, hands in your lap picking at your nails.

“What if you find yourself a widow?” Anthony asked suddenly, now fully turned to you.

“Pardon me?” You asked blankly, brows furrowed, lips slightly parted.

“What if you find yourself to be a widow?” He repeated, slightly differently.

“If you suspect you may act recklessly, you must inform me at once." You told him cautiously, hand moving towards him, but he pulled back. "My father's passing was but a consequence of being outdoors.” He stated blankly, eyes staring forward, distantly. He never talked about his father's death, it wasn’t a topic he was very open about. “He committed no recklessness, yet the heavens saw fit to claim him.” Anthony's hands were beginning to shake before he clenched them into fists, “A virtuous man, struck down."

“Anthony-”

“What if I do not live a graciously long life?” He asked, head snapping to you, “What if I meet my end, just as young as my father?” He asked another question that you had no answer to other than, “Anthony you will live a long life-”

He stood abruptly, face red, eyes watering, “How could you possibly know that!” He yelled at you, “You do not!” He continued to yell, face such an angry red it almost scared you. He didn’t seem angry though, his eyes were filled with fear, he was scared. You did not expect him to yell or be so emotional, it hurt you deep in your heart to see him look so terrified about what could happen.

Anthony began to pace, hands in his hair and desperately pulling at his collar. “I didn’t even wish to marry,” He told you, seemingly muttering to himself. “I feared leaving my wife alone, especially if we were to have children.” He continued, not gazing at you at all.

You stood, slowly walking to him, “Yet, here you continue to stand,” You said, “alive,and wed.” You reminded him, concern flowing through you as he paced.

He stopped walking, looking at the wedding ring on his finger. “My mother was left with eight children to raise alone.” He mumbled, having to clear his throat from how low he was speaking. “I, the eldest, lost my father when I was eighteen left to carry his title and responsibility.” He spoke to you, reminding himself of all the information he didn’t know when he was eighteen and how he had to figure it all out, how he had to be the man of the house at such a young age. “I do not wish for you and our future child to endure the same fate.”

You were quiet, “Then why did you marry me?” You whispered, your expression was slightly crinkled but you were listening. Anthony had turned to you, a soft but sad expression on his face. He gently held your hands, looking into your eyes. “My affection for you was undeniable.” He confessed, cupping one of your cheeks with his large hand, a bit of sweat dripping down his forehead from being so worked up. “It was so difficult to be inexplicably in love with you and watch for you to have other suitors.” He continued, drawing a breath, “I was drawn to you, as a moth to flame.”

You licked your lips, “Yet, you still harbor fears of leaving me-”

“The responsibility of children and a title you cannot shed unless you remarry.” He interrupted you, thumbs rubbing at your cheeks. He looked at you desperately, desperate for you to understand how he was feeling, but you could not. “Which I have no intention to do.” You retorted to his comment, he is the only man you believe you’ll ever love and nothing will change that.

Anthony nodded, dropping his hands from your face. He remembered how he wasn’t there for his mother, for his family sometimes. “I acknowledge that I was a challenge to deal with for my mother.” He spoke, and you were aware of such things. He had admitted these feats to you during your courtship, during small corners of vulnerability. “I just do not wish for you to face similar struggles alone.” He finished his thought, ultimately refusing to meet your gaze as he found the bookcases to be far more interesting.

You shook your head, “She did not endure it alone.” You stated matter-of-factly. Anthony looked up, eyes blinking in confusion, “What?” He asked you, so you continued. “Your mother, she had you, she had Benedict, Colin, Daphne. All of her children were her solace and support.” You expressed to him, reminding him of all of his siblings. They all had each other, they were all her shoulder to cry on just as she was theirs.

Anthony sighed for the thousandth time within that conversation, “We were not easy children.” He told you. Eloise didn’t wish to marry, he had been such a terrible man of the house in the beginning, Benedict did not wish for the responsibility, Colin rushed into things too quickly, Daphne had so much going on when she was named the diamond of the season, his younger siblings couldn’t even fathom the world they were in.

“No child ever is.” You told him simply, holding his hand gently. This time, he did not pull away.

You smiled at him, kissing his cheek gently and pulling back to look him into his eyes. “Now,” You started, letting out the puff of air that was compressing your chest the entire conversation. “I’d prefer if we do not speak the subject of your demise as if it were to greet us at dawn.” You told him, the comment causing him to chuckle a bit, holding your hand a little tighter. “You will come down for dinner and we will enjoy a meal together.” You told him and he nodded, “I will be down in a moment, I shall see the papers are put away first.” He spoke, looking around to all the papers scattered on his desk and some even on the floor.

You left him to the papers and asked your maid to get dinner started, the woman asking if there were any preferences you wanted. The door had closed and Anthony was soon left alone.

Once the door had closed Anthony had begun to gasp for breath, unbuttoning the top of his shirt for air. His chest began to have as he leaned against the door, tears filling his eyes. He furiously wiped at them, trying so hard to push them back but he couldn’t stop them when a choked sob left his lips. His hands were shaking when they reached his face to wipe at his eyes hurriedly. The topic of conversation was difficult, you were so sure that the two of you would grow old together with your children, that you would not have to worry about being a widow, but Anthony was not so sure.

Everyday he saw a little bit of his father in himself and it terrified him. Such a good man was taken from the world by something as simple as a bee and it scared Anthony of everything around him. Sure, before he was not scared of death, even going as far as to call for a duel where he was prepared to die for his sister's honor. But now, he had you, and he did not wish to leave you.

Anthony shakily clasped his hands in a prayer, praying for all the time in the world to be with you. Praying for more time than his father had, praying for a chance. He muttered small prayers, “Please, I just wish to be with her, I will never ask for anything else.” He cried out quietly, eyes closed, tears pouring from his eyes. “I just want time, time with her, please.” He begged quietly, his prayers in reflection to how lonely he saw his mother was. She had so many children but he knew that his mother wished for his father to be there to help her everyday.

A knock had sounded at the door, the noise caused Anthony to stand quickly and rush to the other side of the room with documents, back to the door. He cleared his throat, sniffling one last time, “Enter.” He spoke, the door opening.

“Lord Bridgerton, dinner is served.” A footman had announced, standing in the doorway.

Anthony put the documents away, wiping his tears without the man noticing. “I shall be there in just a moment's time.” He told the man, putting some documents into the drawers. The man nodded and closed the door, going to inform you of the comment.

The door closed once more and Anthony felt his legs were so weak that he had almost collapsed into the furniture. One of his hands gripped the edge of the drawer, the other clawing at his chest. He felt as if every time he took a breath his chest would tighten, he felt nauseous, dizzy. The room was spinning and his vision was blurry from his tears. It almost seemed as if he were dying, but he was not, everything felt like so much but nothing was happening.

It all felt like too much.

He tried to take a few more deep breaths, the pain ceasing and his vision returning back to normal. He slowly exhaled, blinking and wiping his tears. He clenched his jaw as he stood up straight, muttering some words of ‘man of the house’, ‘loving husband’, ‘time’. He couldn't connect the words even if he tried, all he knew was that he was going to dinner.

All he knew was that his father's words rang in his head, but he kept shaking them from his mind. “You cannot show someone your best without allowing them to see your worst.” If only his father had told him how difficult it was to show someone your worst. How frightening it was to show true vulnerability, to find the words to explain feelings you don’t even understand fully yourself.

[sukunasbow]

the lucky pencil.

pairings: anthony vaughn x fem!reader.

warnings: mentions of blood and not yet proof read.

in which you finally decide to confront your enemy about his unfiltered hatred towards you.

you let out a long sigh, slowly striding into the nurses office.

“well, well, well.” anthony grumbles.

“oh, this just can’t get any worse!” you huff, grabbing some tissues and plopping down onto the bed across from anthony.

“why are you here?” he rolls his eyes, choosing to ignore your comment.

you gesture to the tissues you’re holding up to your bleeding nose, “is it not obvious?”

“relax, ice princess.” he scoffs.

“well, what about you? why are you here?”

“i, uh, took a few too many edibles…”

you can’t hold back your laugh, tossing your head back at his response. “classic anthony vaughn, hm?”

“fuck off, dick biter.”

“dick biter? seriously? did spider enter your body and take over?” you move the bloody tissues away from your nose and toss them way, grabbing a few new ones.

“whatever.” he looks away from you, mumbling curses about you under his breath.

“i have a question for you.” you start.

“shoot.” he reluctantly replies.

“why do you hate me so much? you’re nice to, like, almost everyone…except me. you constantly talk shit about me with spider, it’s like i’m back in elementary school when you’d pick on me during break. before that, though, we were friends, right?”

“yeah, we were friends.”

you keep eye contact with him, silently letting him know you expect more of a response.

“i only started making fun of you with spider..” he breathes out, “okay, look, when we stopped being friends in elementary, it was because you stole my lucky pencil.” he blurts out the last part.

“i stole…your lucky pencil?” your jaw drops at the petty words.

“yes! then you gave it to dusty, who you had a huge crush on, even though i had a huge crush on you and he didn’t care about you!”

your eyes widen at his confession. “anthony, that was forever ago and you’re still upset? i shouldn’t have given it away but i also didn’t steal it, you gave it to me when I was nervous about our pop quiz.”

“well…” anthony mumbles, crossing his arms and pouting, “still.”

the pettiness of the situation settles in. you always thought you’d stay friends with anthony, until he decided to become your own personal hell just because of a pencil. “i can’t believe this. you’re such a fucking asshole!”

you feel stupid, but your eyes start watering and before you know it, he’s rushing to your side and hugging you.

“i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have ruined us all over the pencil, i just really like you.”

“liked me?” you correct him.

“no, like you.” he breathes out, “please, let me have another chance at our friendship…maybe more when you’re ready.”

you give him a small smile, “yeah, i’d like that. also, uh, sorry for giving dusty your pencil. i can find you a new lucky pencil.” you let out a small laugh, anthony grinning in response.

[frost-queen]

Riding experience (Reader & Bridgerton Siblings)

Requested by: anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury,  @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn , @cherrysxuya , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @niktwazny303

The horse neighed loud when you entered the barn. The stable boy finishing up the last of securing the saddle. You moved towards the horse, wanting to touch it as it moved his head up. Shushing her, he calmed his head allowing you to lay your hand on his nose. – “It’s alright boy.” – you said letting your forehead touch his head. There was commotion behind you, making you look away.

The commotion getting louder with footsteps. With wide eyes, you watched as most of your siblings entered the barn all discussing. Anthony clearly in a heated discussion with Daphne. Eloise joining in from behind as Benedict forced himself into the conversation as well. Colin and Francesca trying not to get between the heat.

“What is the matter?” – you asked moving your hands to your hips. Anthony broke free from his discussion, walking up to you. – “I’ll tell you what’s the matter.” – he started with his scolding voice. – “You going unchaperoned!” – he outed with a point of his finger accusingly at you.

“Anthony you are exaggerating.” – Daphne interfered. – “It is just a ride to Lady Danbury.” – she finished stating her point. Anthony turned in shock at her. – “I do not care if it were to the queen. Y/n does not ride alone!” – he insisted upon. – “It is but a small ride. Y/n will be at Lady Danbury before you have finished complaining.” – Eloise pitched in defending your maturity.

You gave her a smile liking how she tried, but with Anthony it was never easy. – “Anything could happen!” – Anthony called out gesturing at you. – “Like what?” – Francesca asked curiously. Anthony turned his head sharply to her. – “Like… like…” – he began feeling himself get angered. – “She could be robbed!” – he outed as Benedict laughed loud.

Anthony bloated his cheeks at that. – “A tree could fall on her. Loose her way.” – Anthony continued to give example after example. – “I think you read too much.” – Colin chuckled out. – “Why am I the only one caring for Y/n’s safety!” – he shouted  making the horses neigh loud. – “Oh hush Anthony, you are startling the poor creatures.” – Daphne said soothingly petting one.

“Brothers, sisters I will be alright.” – you reassured them. – “I’ll send word once I have arrived at Lady Danbury’s.” – you offered to please your brother. – “Absolutely not!” – Anthony made clear. He grabbed the reins of the stable boy that was leading your horse out of the stall. – “You shall be chaperoned.” – he said with a determined nod. You furrowed your brows a bit. – “You are all going?” – you questioned half in shock.

“Yes.” – Anthony said, turning his posture to the stable boy. Signalling him to ready more horses. The stable boy hurried back to saddle up the horses. – “Why?” – you asked confused. – “I am chaperoning you.” – he declared. Daphne moved herself in front of Anthony to speak up. – “And I am not leaving you alone with him.” – Daphne said, receiving a glare from Anthony.

“Benedict will chaperone Daphne.” – he explained, pointing at them. – “Eloise insisted to go along if Benedict went so Colin is joining to chaperone Eloise.” – he went on making you stare at your brother. – “Francesca will ride with me as well, she wanted to join out of curiosity.” – Anthony finished.

 “That is ridiculous.” – you let out at his most stupid explanation ever. – “You are ridiculous.” – you then said. – “We are coming and that is final!” – he insisted upon. You took the reins from him, leading your horse out of the stables. One by one your siblings received their horse. Outside you hoisted yourself up in the saddle. Waiting for Anthony to join your side. – “After you.” – you sarcastically said with a gesture.

“With you sister.” – Anthony replied with a smirk. Rolling your eyes, you signalled your horse to walk. Anthony riding beside you, with Francesca at his other side. Daphne and Benedict right behind you. Then Eloise and Colin. – “Isn’t this wonderful.” – Benedict teased. – “Family bonding.” – he scrunched his nose, putting on the most ridiculous teasing smile. Eloise snorted loud knowing just how serious he was about that. Very little.

Anthony looked over his shoulder, giving him a good glare. – “I didn’t ask for all of you to come.” – you said with a sigh. – “Oh, but we wanted too dear sister.” – Colin called out from the back. – “You sure there weren’t any alternative motives for you all to accompany me. Certainly you Eloise!” – you shot your sister a glare, knowing she was never too keen on riding a horse.

Eloise pulled her shoulders up. Her horse’s head whipped up when she neighed, sending an expression of terror on her face. It made you laugh loud. – “Are you enjoying yourself Francesca?” – Anthony asked, ignoring all around him. Francesca hummed shyly, sitting in quiet. You groaned loud at the pace you were going. – “Honestly are we expected to arrive at Lady Danbury’s by tomorrow?” – you called out. – “Yes, Anthony were are in a haste.” – Daphne interfered. 

“We?” – you asked curiously. Daphne cleared her throat. – “I meant you of course.” – she gestured at you. – “We shall pick up the pace.” – Anthony said kicking his horse. You all did the same, as the horse trotted. A pace faster than simply walking. It still wasn’t fast enough as it made you sigh. You would’ve been at Lady Danbury’s faster if it wasn’t for them slowing you down.

In the open fields the formations had changed a bit. Not a straight line anymore, more a group. Colin was riding with Daphne and Eloise. Benedict somewhere in the middle, watching the trees. Anthony never left your side as you practically remained the same. Francesca had slowed down, finding herself somewhere amongst the others.

She was riding closer to the trees. She gasped spotting a squirrel up in a tree. It ran fast up the tree bark. The squirrel ran into the top of the tree, ruffling it up. A few birds that had been nesting there flew up, startled. The birds flew everywhere for an escape. One bird flew rather low, passing right in front of Francesca’s horse. Her horse neighed loud, hooves up as Francesca screamed loud. The hooves thumping loudly on the ground. – “Fran!” – Benedict called out as he horse decided to take a run for it.

Galloping off as Francesca clamped onto the reins for dear life. You signalled your horse to go faster, going after her. – “Y/n!” – Anthony called out, ordering his horse to follow. Francesca cried it out, having lowered herself closer to the saddle out of fear. – “Hold on Fran!” – you shouted loud, kicking your horse for it to go faster. Your horse was puffing loud, galloping to catch up with her. You were panting, focusing on your sister.

Behind you, you could hear your siblings shout. Your horse neared hers as you forced it to ride with her. Riding near her, you dared to let go of the reins with one hand. Attempting to grab a hold of hers. The first time you failed, missing the rein by a few inches. Grabbing your own reins again, you ordered your horse to get even closer. For a second time you tried it, taking a hold of her reins.

You clenched your hand around it, urging your horse to slow down so it would make her horse follow. Both of you were going to fast, making it harder for your horse to suddenly go slowing down. Francesca was crying, wanting to get off. – “Y/n!” – Anthony called out riding up to you. – “Let go of the reins!” – he ordered. Francesca’s horse gave a notch, kicking it up. You felt a strong pull on the hand, clutching onto her reins.

The sudden movement made you launch forwards, losing your grip on your own horse. Your horse stopped, lowering his head aggressively. You called it out when you got flung over the horse’s head a few meters further. Anthony rode his horse forwards, coming to a stop right before you. His horse went up, kicking his hooves up to stop your horse from riding over you. Your horse came to a sudden stop as Anthony’s horse set his hooves back down.

Benedict rode past you to Francesca. He managed to grab her horse and slow her down. Coming to a full stop, Francesca got off, crying loudly. Daphne jumped off her horse to meet her half-way, wrapping her arms around her. – “Y/n!” – Anthony had gotten off his horse, rushing up to you. – “Are you hurt sister?” – he asked with panic in his voice. Eloise and Colin came as well. – “I think I’m fine…” – you told him, feeling your limbs.

Nothing seemed broken. Perhaps a few bruises would pop up, but nothing serious. Anthony sighed relieved, wrapping his arms around you. – “I was so worried.” – he breathed out. – “I’m fine.” – you reassured your other siblings. – “And that is why no one leaves unchaperoned!” – Anthony called out, having the need to lecture you all anyways.

You punched his armpit, groaning from the soreness in your arm. It made him look worriedly at you. – “I’m fine!” – you reassured him for the thousand time. – “I’m not riding that anymore!” – Francesca called out, pointing harshly at her horse. – “You will ride with me.” – Colin suggested. – “I’ll take her horse too.” – he added. Daphne helped Francesca over to Colin.

“I shall leave with Y/n to Lady Danbury’s. You all return home and take care of Francesca.” – Anthony said helping you up. Benedict wanted to join as well, but Anthony found his place with the others. He couldn’t leave his three sisters alone in the care of Colin. There needed at least be two men. Anthony helped you on your horse. Together you calmly rode over to Lady Danbury, where you received the upmost warm welcome.  

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

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!  

[lookingfts]

If you're in the mood for some fluffy fluff...? Married or dating, or in the enemies to lover phase, tripped ankle or concussion, forced proximity and having to provide TLC?

Also fulfilling another prompt I got a while ago about how Kate would handle Anthony getting into an accident! Enjoy.

Kate’s heart was pounding in her chest as she pulled up to the entrance. Anthony was already standing there with a nurse by his side, his arm in a splint, looking exhausted and a little disheveled. She threw her car into park and stepped out.

“He couldn’t get out of here fast enough,” the nurse said with a smirk. “Here are the care instructions. You can call us if you have any questions.”

Kate took the thick packet, opening the side door and letting the nurse help him into the passenger seat. It was slow going, Anthony wincing at every small movement, but finally he slumped against the seat.

The nurse helped him into his seatbelt, making an apologetic noise as he hissed. “We’ll see you in a few days, Anthony. Take care of yourself.”

He was entirely silent as Kate got back into the car and pulled out onto the road, heading in the direction of his flat. It was almost midnight, no traffic in sight, but Kate drove cautiously anyway, not wanting to risk slamming on the brakes and injuring him further.

“You didn’t call your mum? Or Ben?”

Anthony let out a rough sigh, rubbing his good hand over his face. “I’ll call them tomorrow, I’m just…I’m too tired for it right now. Besides, I’ll need some help and you’ve seen me naked much more recently than they have.”

She might have chuckled at that, if she wasn’t so fucking tense. Kate had been coiled tight since the second he called, and despite her attempts at deep breathing, nothing was quite succeeding in helping her unwind.

It wasn’t an entirely satisfying reason for why he had called her. She was Anthony’s friend on a good day, maybe, but she was more of a situationship than anything. Unbelievable late-night hookups that none of their friends or family knew about – or at least, she didn’t think they knew. Not that there was much to know. Anthony gave her explosive, leg-shaking orgasms and she left in the morning and they didn’t discuss it much beyond that. There was nothing to talk about.

At any rate, she didn’t think they were at picking each other up from the hospital status.

She entered the code to his front door and Anthony seemed to relax a bit at the familiar surroundings of his flat. Kate already had a few clothes and toiletries lying around; it wouldn’t be a hardship to stay the night. In the morning, he would tell his family, and they could suffocate him with their particular brand of care.

Anthony stilled at the bottom of the stairs. His bedroom was on the upper level, along with two guest rooms, so it was a necessary evil. “Sorry,” she said. “I know it’s going to be uncomfortable. I’ve got you.”

Huffing out a breath through his nose, he grabbed the banister and carefully made his way up the stairs. Her heart twisted a little every time he inhaled sharply and shut his eyes, waiting for the wave of pain to pass. Finally, they were at the landing and his shoulders slumped in relief.

Once they were in his room – truly a ridiculous suite, in her opinion, though the bed was spectacular – Kate slowly helped him undress and change into a pair of sweatpants. “How did you break your arm?” she asked finally. He hadn’t said a word about it.

“I tripped down the stairs,” he admitted, gritting his teeth as he stepped into one of the legs, then the other. “I just…wasn’t paying attention, honestly. I looked at my phone and I missed a step and I just…yeah.”

The knot in her chest grew tighter, compressed by something that felt a little like panic. She couldn’t account for why she had been so sour since he called, but maybe it was starting to take shape now. Flashes filled her mind, too quick to process – Anthony with a head injury, Anthony under a sheet. They both knew how one moment could mean life and death. How one moment could break everyone who had loved that person.

Once he was situated, Kate opened the drawer and took out one of her pajama sets. Her hands were trembling, and she felt dizzy. She just couldn’t turn off the awful noise in her head – what if what if what if.

“You should rest,” she said, not missing the furrow of his brows at her terse tone. “I can sleep in the guest room, just call me if you need anything.”

Anthony didn’t respond for a moment, and she turned to leave. “Kate,” he said to her back, sounding so weary. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you to pick me up. I clearly overstepped.”

An embarrassing heat pricked at her eyes. She had kept it together, focused on the singular goal of making sure that he was alright. And now that he was…her head was a mess. A confusing jumble of anger and fear and gratitude that he was still there, with her, and she couldn’t articulate any of it. Because she was just some girl he fucked sometimes, so why should she care this much?

“You were so reckless,” she spit. That was easier. To fight and claw and rage like they had always done, months before she was ever in his bed. “You can’t do that shit, Anthony. Your family – did you even think about your family? Your mum? Ben? Hyacinth? Did you even think, for one second, what it would do to them if something serious happened to you?”

There was an excruciating silence. She could hear the tears in her voice, the desperation. Could hear the confession between the lines that she had never meant to give. If Anthony hadn’t suspected anything before, he would be a fool not to know now.

His hand landed gently on her waist, and Anthony tugged her against him, careful to avoid his injured side. He was still probably bruised elsewhere, so Kate went gingerly, burying her face in his neck. “I’m sorry,” Anthony murmured. But it was his heartbeat, calm and steady under her hand, that helped her breathe. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’ll be more careful.”

“We’re not talking about me,” she said unconvincingly. As if her rebellious tears weren’t landing on his bare shoulder, as if she wasn’t making herself small in his arms and letting him surround her.

“Okay,” he acquiesced. They stood like that for a long time, Anthony’s fingers sliding up her back to stroke her curls. Repetitive motions until the haunting melody in her mind stopped.

He was alive. The moment had come and gone, and he was still there.

Kate lifted her head, wiping her face with the heel of her palm. His hand landed on the side of her neck, half cupping her jaw, his face earnest and concerned.

Anthony swallowed. “If anything happened to you…” he said, raw and aching, like she was pulling some admission from the deepest parts of him. “It would destroy me.”

She blinked at him, the words slowly settling over her. Maybe there was something to talk about, after all.

But not tonight. Anthony was swaying on his feet, and Kate found herself exhausted by the day, too. “Stay with me,” he urged, stroking her cheek. “Please.”

Kate nodded and ushered him to bed, helping him find a comfortable position on the mattress before curling up beside him. Letting his rhythmic breathing and the warmth of his hand around hers lull her to sleep.

Everything else could wait.

[sadlilghostt]

His loss and ruin.

Angel x sibling reader

๑ | synopsis: after a few years in hell, angel met a certain demon that he thought he could actually trust. Angel did actually fell for him, sadly, kindness nor love was a thing in hell, so he became more ruined and broken. Until a certain gambling demon came for his rescue.

๑ | tw : cursing, panick attack, abuse will be mentioned, blood, gore, death will be also be mentioned.

๑ | a/n : a part two from " my little sunshine " ig? HAHA I just watched HH ep 4 or 5 just right now and it just booster my motivation to write a second part of that one HEHE hope y'all liked it! ~

" My little sunshine "

Master list

After the chaos occured on Valentino's studio and his very first heated argument with husk, angel ran off to a strip club to blow off some steam, but Satan must be hating on him somehow to bring husk to his tail and be his 'little-shining-armor' and caused more chaos.

" husk, what the actual fuck you are doin' here? " angel groaned as he struggled against his hold.

" let go off me! " he tried to pulled his arms back but fails miserably when husk tightened his hold to him and proceeds to push him away from the club.

" no, I'm takin' you back to the hotel. " husks gruff voice grumbled behind him.

" gett- off! " he groaned as he kicked his legs back trying to push him away to his relief, husk finally let go of his arms. Angel dusted off non-existent dust off of himself as husker gave him a frustrated look.

" that fucker put somethin' on yer drink. " angel glared at him.

" you don't think I can't tell when someone spikes my drink?! " he snapped as he run his fingers to his hair " I do this all fuckin' time! " he continues as husk gave him a look of disbelief.

" you just let people drug you all the time? "

More anger and frustration bubbled to angels chest, the bottle is in the verge of exploding.

Angel snapped his body to husks direction as his hands were in front of him, indicating his distress and frustrations.

" you think I ask for it? ! " he snapped, catching husk off guard. " I don't ask any of this shit! "His hands flew above from his head as more of his bottled emotions pour out.

" I didn't ask to be this way. " he turned back to him as husk stared at him.

" I didn't ask for you Charlie to save me, " he pointed at Huskers chest as he stepped away.

" I didn't asked for you to save me. " he pointed more to his chest, there nose were barely touching.

" I can handle myself. " he huffed pointing at himself " really? Because I just see someone self-distructing. " husked snapped back pointing back at angel's chest which angel leaned away. Husker pauses before continuing.

" it's seems like-- " just turned away " I don't know.. " he shook his head. Husker turned back again to face angel as he shrugged awkwardly " it seems like you need a bartender to talk too. " angel laughed at he placed his hand to hide forehead.

" oh, so— " he flew his hands again to his side as he chuckled. " now you're going to act like you give shit about me? " he places one of his hand to his hip.

" you think after how you treated me—" he quirkee a brow a him, pointing at him " I'm going to open up to you? Please. " he huffed as he opens his arms again dramatically as he turned away ready to walk out of this, and this conversation before he breaks more.

" maybe I would treat you better if you you were real, " more anger filled angels nerves as unwanted memories flew back to his mind. From the start where he was alive. Where he was still with you.

Anthony came back home late again with more bruises on his neck, his body was swaying as he stumbled to his steps when his eyes landed on you.

You were seated in front of the door with your arms and legs crossed.

He wondered, why we're yous till awake.

" anth. "

Anthonh breath out before cracking up a wobbly smile as he leaves ok the door frame " heya sunshine. " he shot and finger guns at you, but your expression remains the same and clearly unfazed.

He gulped, " why- why are you still awake? It's in the middle of the night.. " he stumbled up on his step as he walked towards your direction.

" oh I don't know, maybe because I was waiting for my idiot, stupid of a brother to come home and actually eat with me in the nights and sleep together and cuddle like he promised? " you quirked a brow at him as you stand up from your seat.

He gulped once again, " oooh.. " he breathe to his teeth as he sighed and gave you an apologetic look. " I'm sorry sunshine.. For- not being able to eat dinner with you.. It's just- "

" work has been very tougher lately and you/i can't afford to leave early. " you rolled your eyes, perfectly synchronizing with him which he gave you a shock look before letting out a breathless laugh.

" well- wow. " he coughed out.

" anth.. " you sighed frustratedly as you walked towards him " I know you, we're literally siblings. I know you from head to toe and you're like an open book to me. "

You stared up at him with a frown, he looked completely nervous, making you sigh as he averted eye contact again.

" I know when soemthin's up or not, and I can tell that work has not been only tough, but rough for ya too. And don't think I can't see the bruises anth, I can literally see the dried blood on 'yer nose. " you squinted an eye at him which he flinched when you noticed this.

He sighed as he slumped before chuckling.

" I just can't hide anythin' from ya, aight sunshine? "He cocked his head to the side.

" bitch, I've been with your for years, what did ya expect? " you chuckled when you felt a stinging pain on your forehead.

" hey! Language. " he pouted.

" Italian and english? " you sarcastically replied.

" Gesù Cristo, sei una minaccia, " he chuckled as he shook his head ruffling your hair.

" hey! Watch it! I just groomed that! " you groaned. But giggling afterwards, he too started to chuckle as the both of you shared a heart laugh.

Once the both of you calmed down, a soft from were on your face again as you sighed.

" I just don't want'cha to hide things from me anth.. You've been there for me ,and I wanna be there for ya too, so please just cut the act ok? " you dropped your head softly to his chest as you lazily hang your arms around his waist.

" I don't want to see you silently suffer so please, " you tilted your head to meet his troubled face.

" don't be afraid to lend me 'yer troubles ok? "

Angel stared at you for a moment before sighing as he hugged you with his other hand on your head.

" what can I do? I can't say no ta that eyes sugar. " he softly laughed as you smiled brightly at him.

" good, now let's eat! "

Angel felt tears swelled up upon his eyes at the memory as his heart pounded, he the lump of his throat thickens as he listened more to husk.

" and not some bullshit version of yourself, ways pushin' my boundaries. " husks scoffed as he watched angel walked away from him. This grew more frustration for husk.

" lemme tell ya, nobody in that hotel cares who you are! " he snapped as he swung his hand to his side. " how famous, how hot. "

" so you might as well just cut the act. " angel stopped from his tracks. With that single sentence, he finally snapped.

" anth.. We talked a bout this, I told you to not be afraid of lending me your troubles. If I were to loose my life just ta have you to open up then sure I'd fuckin' bet my life on that. " you sighed dramatically as angel shot you a look for swearing but you ignored it " like I've said, I've been with you for years, I can literally see through that mask that you're in trouble. So please just drop the act, ok? "

Your voice rang onto his mind as his mind finally went blank, emotions finally exploding.

" IT'S NOT AN ACT! " he snapped turning around to face husk again, tears were threatening to fall from his eyes. Husk was once again, shocked as he finally see his walls breaking down.

" it's who I need to be.. " he hugged himself as he averted his eyes.

" and this— " his hand flew above his head " this is my escape " escape from everything,escape from val, escape from the memory,the memory of you dying into his arms. He smiled but it was strained and tensed.

" where I can forget about it all! " he turned again stumbling as he leaned into the clubs wall for support. An image of you dead in his arms flashed into his mind again.

" h-how much I hate-! " himself, he hated himself for for not being able to save you from that night. " everything! " he continued.

" a place where I can get high, and not have to think how much it hurts. " he clutched his chest. He wondered, what would you think if you saw him now, would you still care for him? Love him? Would you still see him as an older brother?

" and maybe.. " he pushes himself off of the wall as he places his hands on the side of his head as he looked down on his foot. " I can ruin myself enough in the process, " his hands slowly went limp to his side.

" if I end up broken, I won't be his favorite you any more and.. I wont have to remember that fuckin' night where she died right into my arms. " his voice shook as he shook his head trying to shove away the memory of you slowly going limp into his arms.

Angel sat on the side walk, hugging his legs into his chest.

" and maybe he'll let me go.. And maybe.. And just maybe.. I might get actually redeemed and see her again. "

Husk looked down at the spider demon sadly, he wondered who's she he was talking about. But he figured that it must be someone from the day he was life, deciding not to push it, husk sat down beside him.

Husk sighed heavily as he started, " I was an overload once you know." Husk started. Angel turned his head to look at him to see if he was lying.

Husk met his eyes before smiling awkwardly.

" yeah.. And uh.. " he trailed " it's was nice to have that power, but when your dealing with souls, while Also being a gambler, the stakes are pretty high. And loosing a few more hands can be more than a little dangerous, so when you're down on you luck, you turn into anything to..keep you afloa even making deals yourself. So I know what is like to.. Regret the choices made and.. " he pauses for long before starting again. " knowin' ya can't take it back. " he finishes, a thickening silent envelopes them before angel broke it.

" I..." He trailed as he stared at the puddle infront of him " had a little sister. " husk perked up at the mention of this before turning to look at angel,

' so that was the "she" he was talking about. ' husk thought. He remains silent and listened further.

" she was my everything, my source of light, my little sunshine. " angel smiled sadly, husks eyes widened a little to see him talking so sweety about someone, but it was a relative anyways so of course he'd talk sweetly about it. But it was new to see angel dust being like that.

" our parents were never good, so we eventually ran away from home once I turned 18,she was 16 back then. " he pauses before continuing " her name is Y/N, Y/N is.. Someone ya should not mess with, the girl was like a tiger on loose when mad. " he chuckled dryly " but overall that chaotic personality, she was the sweetest sugar you'd eva' picked, a delicate little flower. " he sighed as he stared into the distance.

" back then, I was very secretive, hidin' my outside doins from her, comin' home late and neva' eaten dinners with her, no cuddles night and such... " he sighed before continuing " she confronted me once about that, but.. I choose to hide things from her again, till one night. I caught myself in a bad deal and stole bunch'a drugs and money.. And that stupidity of mine caused her life. " he tests finally pour into his eyes as he let out a little sob.

" I watched-... Husk i watched her.. Died right in my eyes! " he panted as he turned to the feline who had his eyes wide at the information he was getting. " and.. Right into my arms. " angel hugged himself tighter.

" so that's why.. I did everything.. Everything to ruin myself more.. Just to get that wipe off of my mind, to forget- her hands slowly let go of my hand.. Her eyes running out of life.. That- little sad smile she held even dying. " he cried, shoulders were shaking as he sobbed, husk sighed as he placed a hand ok angels shoulder and pats it.

" everyday.. Everytime, I regretted not coming home early, I regretted not spending enough time with her, I regretted for not listenin' to her.. If I could turn back the time.. If I had a second chance to be with her.. I'll.. I'll be a better brother this time. " he sobbed.

Husk was silent, trying to look a better words to ease up the spider demon, he let out a heavy sigh before smiling lightly.

" well , I never known the gal but.. I'm sure she forgives ya. " he started as he watched angel tears up.

" you did fucked up big time but.. " he pauses as he stand up and walked in front of angel.

" I'm sure the gal still see's you the bestest brother she eva' had. You did took care of her once the both of ya left yer parents house, so the little gal must be waitin for ya up there. " husk smiled at him before holding out his hand, angel smiles before wiping off his tears and accepted his hands pulling himself up.

"... Thanks.. For.. Listening. " angel awkwardly rubbed his arms as husk shrugs.

" told ya you could need a bartender to talk. " the both of them chuckled when the clubs door busted open and saw them.

" THERE THEY ARE, FUCKING GET THEM! "

I'm the heavens, on your room, your hands fiddled with the necklace on your neck as you stared off into the distance.

Suddenly your nose itch making you sneeze, you rubbed your nose as you sniffle groaning a bit.

" to who ever the fuck talkin about me, I hope you bit your tongue. " you groaned.

After the little massacre happened, angel and husker were covered in blood as the two happily walked their way back on the hotel when angel suddenly bit his tongue.

" OW- FUCK-"

[lewkwoodnco]

but daddy, I love him! - lockwood x reader

George tipped Lockwood out of his chair with surprising ease while Lucy started yelling at him. The two boys twisted around in their scuffle until George finally pinned Lockwood down and raised a fist above his head.

"Give me ONE good reason why I shouldn't punch your pretty face right now."

Lockwood's scratched and mildly bruised face split into one of his winning smiles, his whimpering temporarily ceased.

"You think my face is pretty?"

George reared back for the punch and Lockwood started shrieking incomprehensibly while Lucy started telling them both off.

a/n - vfvhkefrhu woooo this took a little more time than I anticipated heheh but here it is! <3

warnings/tropes - lockwood x socialite!reader, lil bit of angst, mostly fluff/humour!

word count - 3.8k!

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

Right here, on this plush velvet couch, was where they were going to find her body. They were going to have to scrape her off bit by bit.

It was a dim Saturday morning, and Y/N was rotting in her courtyard living room with two of her friends. Sarah was preening in the full-length mirror, trying to decide if her nose was too small. Hannah was sipping a mimosa on the sofa opposite her, going on about this boy from two towns over who took her to the movies - not that she would ever be seeing him again, given that he was below her station. Y/N thought it was a shame; she couldn't remember Hannah ever showing this much of an interest in someone other than herself.

So there she sat, some unknown frustration distantly bubbling away as she was bored out of her skull. Maybe it was an ungrateful thing to say, but her fashionable lifestyle could feel glamorous for only so long. It was starting to grow stale - as stale as Sarah's obsession with her nose. She stifled a yawn, her eyes wandering to the higher floors, when something made her sit up. There it was again, a little flicker of light reflecting off of something. She mumbled something about a powder room and clumsily got to her feet, excusing herself from her inattentive guests.

It took her a while to figure out exactly where the flash was coming from, but she eventually located the corridor down where she could hear some noises. She heard a set of footsteps approaching her and turned, nearly running straight into a lanky clothes-hanger of a boy laden with all sorts of gizmos, wearing the most horribly ridiculous pair of goggles she had ever seen.

He let out a short scream and clung onto his goggles, and she reflexively caught the supplies that slipped from his arms.

"Who the hell are you?"

He owlishly blinked through his shiny, reflective goggles a few times, before reluctantly slipping them off. All thoughts about his strange attire flew from her head, replaced by one annoyingly nagging thought - he had kind eyes. Soft, trusting, kind eyes, the kind that momentarily knocked the breath out of you.

"I am so sorry..."

Don't be, she wanted to breathe out, transfixed on his eyes. He paused a little and awkwardly gestured to her arms. She glanced down and remembered where she was, hurriedly returning his supplies.

"That's some, um, interesting equipment you have."

He gave a brief smile. "Thank you. Anthony Lockwood, Lockwood & Co."

She frowned. "Lock-wood & Co. That sounds familiar."

"Well, we are a very up-and-coming psychical inv-"

"Oh! The agency that burned down Sheen Road!"

The boy's face took a faint tinge of red, and she immediately regretted putting her foot in her mouth.

"I mean - uh - you have some very interesting equipment."

He opened his mouth to respond when two more figures emerged from the shadows behind them, a girl guiding another flailing and mildly bruised boy, both of whom had donned matching goggles.

"Lockwood, I can't see shit without my glasses. How much longer do I have to make an arse out of myself? 

The girl looked at Lockwood with an injured expression. "And you said these came free from Satchell's."

Lockwood huffed irritatedly at the other boy. "Snitch."

"Boo-fucking-hoo. I told you these wouldn't work." He sucked in a breath to continue but stopped short as he finally registered Y/N. "Hang on-"

"She's alive."

"Damn."

Lockwood gestured carelessly towards the other two. "My associates, Lucy Carlyle and George Karim."

"So you're here about the third-floor Visitor?"

"Yes. We received a report about some footprints..?"

"Oh, right. Those are just below my room. Here." She led the trio to the landing at the foot of the flight of stairs leading up to her room, which was stained with a quickly disappearing smattering of bloody footprints. The other boy knelt and considered the substance.

"Ectoplasm."

Lockwood turned back to her. "How often does the Visitor make an appearance?"

"No clue; I'm blind as a bat to anything supernatural. But the footprints only show up every couple of days, so it might be a while before they show up again."

His associates started examining the scene, and he bid her farewell with a grateful smile. By the time she had returned to the courtyard, she had been gone a bit too long to have her absence go unnoticed by her friends.

"And where did you run off to?"

"Told you, the powder room." She picked up a stray magazine, keeping her tone light. "I ran into some agents on the way back."

"Ooh. From Rotwell's?"

"Lockwood & Co."

Sarah peeled herself away from the mirror, mystified. "Who?"

Her giddy glow faltered. "An agency. Mr. Lockwood was there too. I was just...having a small chat with them."

"What for? They're working class."

"Don't be rude, Sarah." Hannah turned back to Y/N, a pinched expression still lingering on her face. "But...she's not wrong."

Y/N bristled defensively. "I'll have you know they're perfectly respectable company." Better than you lot, she wanted to add.

"Why? They're...poor."

"Y/N, we only want what's best for you," Hannah added in a nauseatingly simpering voice. "And that's...not...with people like them."

She tossed her magazine aside flippantly.

"You know, I wonder how the two of you bear it."

"Bear what?"

"Walking around with your noses stuck in the air all the time."

With that, she exited the living room, fuming. Yes, she was being childish, and yes, it wasn't news that her friends were prone to arrogance, but for some reason, their attitudes were particularly grating today. They hadn't met Lockwood like she had, of course they wouldn't understand. She replayed the feeling of watching him remove his goggles for the first time - unexpectedly climactic, and somehow...familiar.

She was sure of it. They would never understand.

For the next few nights, there would be a Lockwood & Co. employee stationed at the landing, complete with iron chains, flares, and salt. They'd bring along something to occupy themselves, like a book or a 3D puzzle, but it still felt nice to have a short chat with them before she went up to her room. 

With Lockwood, the chats always lasted a little longer, and maybe she stayed up a little later than she ought to on those nights, but really, it wasn't anything special. Little by little, they pieced each other together. She's restoring her father's old radio. He likes his orange juice with pulp. She has an older brother she hasn't talked to in months. He visits his family's graves on the first Tuesday of every month.

The more time she spent with Lockwood, the more she realised how uninteresting she found everyone else. Somewhere between their stilted whispers and muffled laughter, she started to desire something...more. 

"Hey."

Lockwood looked up from his magazine from where he was sitting cross-legged, encircled by his iron chains. He glanced at his watch, startled.

"You're back early."

She wrinkled her nose. "Wasn't enjoying the fundraiser."

"What about your friends?"

"They wanted to stay."

"So they let you leave? All by yourself?"

She bit her tongue. "Nothing wrong in that."

"No, of course not." As he was on the first day they met, Lockwood was quick to be an agreeable companion. But this trait added weight to the few times he chose to disagree. "But...nothing right either."

"It's alright. I'd hate to spoil their night." She sank onto the carpeted steps. "How's the investigation going?"

Lockwood glanced at the temperature sensor placed slightly outside the iron circle. "Temperature's dropping more than usual. Could just be because it's chillier today, but you never know." He looked up, and the moonlight illuminated his starkly pale face. "Do you not have any Talent?"

She hesitated. "A little. Not much, mind, certainly not enough to be an agent. But it was never something I needed to consider. I know people have it bad out there, but I'm just..."

"...too rich."

She gave a wry smile. "What gave it away? Besides the skyscraper ceilings, of course." They laughed briefly, before quickly sinking into a jagged silence.

"What's your home like?"

"It's...it's hard to describe. I don't think I could do it justice. You should come see Portland Row sometime. Have dinner with m-us. Us. Once we're done with the job. If you'd like."

"You should come see Portland Row sometime. Have dinner with m-us. Us. Once we're done with the job. If you'd like."

Lockwood was staring very hard at his sneakers. She found the whole thing highly amusing.

"Lockwood, I'd leave with you right now if I could. Really. It's just...my father..."

Her father would sooner have an aneurysm than let her 'play hooky,' as he would put it, especially with this less-than-glamorous ragtag team of misfits. While it had occasionally been a source of mild annoyance before, she never resented him as much as she did right then. And all that was without considering all the eyebrows that a guy like Lockwood would raise.

The faint moonlight was enough to make out the glimmer of his teeth, the curve of his face, the shadows settling around his deep-set eyes. She ached to know the look on his face, to know how he was feeling. The sprigs of lavender she had weaved into the hem of her dress were heavily perfuming the air, heady enough to make the evocative pull of his gaze strangely irresistible.

She peered at him through the railings, whose shadows marred his face, painfully reminiscent of a prison cell. She slid her hand along the bannister, gripping it firmly. It was moments like these when the rest of the house was quiet, too quiet, that she felt something flutter in her chest. Some compulsion flickering through her tendons to reach out through the railings, brush her fingers across his cheekbone, to have and to hold-

"It's getting late." Lockwood put his coat back on and started gathering some of his equipment. "I think I'll call it a night."

She hurriedly got to her feet too, suddenly embarrassed for some reason. "Yeah. No, me too. I should...I should get some rest."

Still, she lingered at the foot of the stairs long enough for Lockwood to pack away the chains. As he straightened, he turned to her as if he could feel that she was brimming with...something. She wanted to tell him how much she had enjoyed this night, and every night before. She wanted to tell him how happy he made her.

But she couldn't find the words.

"Good night," she said softly.

That was the last of their secret late-night rendezvous, as the Shade finally reappeared the following night and was safely put to rest by Lucy, along with any hopes of a budding romance. 

Five days after what Y/N had thought was the last time she'd lay eyes on Anthony Lockwood (not that she was keeping count), she was quite happily proven wrong. Lockwood and George had paid a visit to collect their payment from her father. 

She was not-so-casually lounging at the opposite end of the living room with her friends. The magazine she was holding upside down wouldn't have fooled anyone if they were paying attention, especially coupled with her relentlessly staring at Lockwood. She had been a little on edge when he had first walked in, hating how their last conversation had ended. But all it took was one of his easy, soothing smiles as he discreetly glanced at her to calm her down. She buried her nose deeper into the magazine as if she hadn't seen it, failing to hold her smile back.

When she had sufficiently composed herself, she peeked over the edge of the magazine to see the boys having some sort of disagreement as her father was writing out a cheque. Lockwood seemed to want to do something and George seemed to be holding him back until the cheque had been written.

As soon as her father had handed the cheque to them, George accepted it with a hurried thanks and a funny bow before practically running out. Lockwood took a deep breath before launching into some kind of monologue while occasionally glancing at her. Openly. Her father's face remained impassive. 

She put away her magazine, mystified as she tried to make out what he was saying, trying to keep the dread creeping into her at bay. Even her friends had picked up on something being amiss as they followed her line of sight.

Her stomach sank as she caught a glimpse of the hard look on her father's face. By now, it couldn't have been more obvious that Lockwood was asking him...about her. She wanted to shake him, yell at him to run away, but some kind of morbid fascination, or perhaps a deep-seated fear, had locked her limbs, forcing her to helplessly watch as the events cruelly unfolded. She knew her father, and she knew Lockwood would never be able to change his mind. At least, she was quite certain.

She snapped out of her haze and leapt to her feet, but it was too late. By the time she had reached the pair, her father was already bidding him a stern farewell.

"...and if you ever talk to my daughter again, I will personally make sure that you never find work another day in London."

Lockwood turned sharply and briskly walked out, his facial features carefully schooled, seemingly oblivious to her hurrying over, or her gasp of despair. He took long strides that made it difficult for her to keep up with him, and he didn't stop until he joined George outside, closing the wrought iron gate between her and him. She clutched one of the bars and he almost immediately wrapped his hand around her.

"Lockwood - "

"You should go back inside before your father sees us."

"Please, listen - I'm really sorry."

"It's alright. I understand."

"My father's never been the understanding type, far from it - "

"I know - I knew that."

"This is all my fault. I should have warned you."

"No, don't...you didn't know I was going to do this."

"We could have kept it a secret."

"And have you sneak around? Lie to your father? Y/N, I'm not above taking the easy route when the situation calls for it, but not in this case. I wanted to do right by you."

Her chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath. Lockwood looked as outwardly poised and calm as ever, but with the two of them this close, she could see the frustration simmering in his eyes.

"I'm so sorry - so mad - that he threatened you like that."

"To hell with my agency." He sighed and pressed his forehead against the gate, lowering his eyes to where their hands were clasped together in some pathetic pseudo-embrace. "I know how much his approval means to you. I just wish I could have gotten that."

They were silent for a moment. There was only a gentle breeze but no rustling leaves, and even George seemed sorry for his best friend. It was quiet enough to feel like they could hear each other's heartbeat but from opposite sides of the gate. 

"I'm still sorry."

Lockwood bowed his head. "So am I."

He brushed his lips against her knuckles before pulling his fingers out of her palm and walking out of her life. She watched the two of them walk away, unable to leave the gate and come to terms with what had happened. For a moment there, before her father's expression had shifted, she had felt a glimmer of hope for her happy ending.

But reality had struck, and now all she could do was go up to her room, walk through the empty landing, and sob into her pillow as her heart screamed for the life she ached for so desperately.

She allowed herself the day to grieve, but by nightfall, she had already started plotting her next steps. The next day, she decided to broach the topic at the breakfast table, where her friends were already seated, whispering furiously until she walked in. She sat opposite her father as usual, who was reading the day's newspaper.

"Dad. I want to talk about yesterday. With - with Lockwood."

He gave no indication of having heard her. She could feel her friends' hawk-eye stares boring into her skin. Against her better judgment, she pressed on.

"I think...you should give him a second chance."

She could practically hear her friends salivating in excitement, flinching as her father set the paper down. He had a bit of a temper, no more than her, but it was never unwarranted.

"And why is that?"

"He may not have much, but he's capable, hard-working, resilient-"

"I know exactly the type of person he is, and before yesterday I thought you did too. Or have you forgotten Sheen Road?"

She nervously fidgeted with the buttons on her dress, suddenly feeling trapped and suffocated. This was going to be an uphill battle, she could see that, now that her blaze of self-righteousness was beginning to fade. "That was a one-off," she mumbled.

"Not quite. I rang up DEPRAC afterwards, and they said in no uncertain terms that his agency was one good accident away from being shut down. He's known to behave recklessly and rarely per the law - "

"Have you stopped to think why he might act this way? You've spoken to him yourself - doesn't seem the irrational type, does he?"

He sighed irritatedly.

"Is this really the type of person you want to throw your whole life away for? To tarnish your reputation?"

"It's my life and it's my name. If I wish to burn my life to the ground or throw my name in the mud, that's my choice. You don't get a say in that."

"To do all this over a washed-up, good-for-nothing-"

"But Daddy, I love him!"

"I don't - "

"And I'm having his child."

Sarah shrieked and dropped her compact. Even Hannah was rendered speechless, nervously pulling at her braid. Her father's eyes looked as though they were about to fall out of his head. An uncomfortable, prickling silence followed.

"Okay, I'm not, but you should see your faces."

Sarah gave a dramatic sigh of relief as Hannah released her braid. "Oh my, what a mess-"

"Don't you start." She turned back to her father, fresh out of all the hope and ammunition she had walked into the room with. "Please, Daddy. Never...never once have I complained about any of your rules. Can't I-" her voice broke off as she struggled to hold back a sob. "Can't I please just have this one thing?"

Her father looked unmoved.

"You listen to me, Y/N - stay away from him."

She glanced around the room desperately, trying to figure one last way out. One last way out. That was all she needed.

She found it.

"Fine. Maybe you're right. Maybe he is crazy. Maybe...maybe he is bad news."

She stood up, wrenching her anxious fingers away from her buttons, poised to run out of the room.

"But I love him anyway."

Lucy and Lockwood were at Portland Row going over the floor plans of the house of their next case. Lucy was trying her best to keep Lockwood on task, but she had never seen him this disinterested in their work. 

She was struggling to hold his attention while he was fidgeting with a pen not very skillfully when they heard an insistent tapping on their kitchen window. They looked up to see Y/N waving at them frantically, gesturing towards the front door. Lockwood leapt up from their kitchen table, nearly stabbing himself with the pen, and joined her outside. There was something very nervous about Y/N's body language, especially since she started talking a mile a minute as soon as Lockwood stepped out.

"God, your eyebags look horrendous in the light. Do you ever-?"

The door shut behind the two of them. Lucy waited at the table for a minute or so, but once it became apparent they weren't about to finish anytime soon, she fetched a book and started to read. About ten minutes later, the front door opened again, but this time it was George returning from the Archives.

"Oh, George, can you tell Lockwood to come back inside?"

"What?"

"Lockwood."

"Where?"

"Outside."

"...outside where?"

"Outside, George. Don't be daft."

George stared at her cluelessly.

"He is still outside...?"

The realisation hit them both at once as they tripped over each other on their way to the front door. They looked out into the half-empty street, and the empty parking space in front of their house.

"George," Lucy asked, feeling majorly peeved by now. "Where is the car we rented for the weekend?"

Over the next month, neither Lucy nor George heard a word from Lockwood. After a particularly intense discussion that day, they decided not to alarm anyone by filing a missing person's report. But he had been absent from public view for a suspiciously long time, and Barnes was starting to find the story they concocted about Lockwood's debilitating illness less and less convincing.

Lucy and George had just arrived home after their latest case, which they were lucky enough to finish early. Lucy flicked on the kitchen light and there, sitting at the kitchen table, as he was nearly a month back, was Lockwood. He looked a little taller and a little less gaunt than they remembered. The three of them stared at each other for a moment, speechless, until the two of them launched themselves at him.

George tipped Lockwood out of his chair with surprising ease while Lucy started yelling at him. The two boys twisted around in their scuffle until George finally pinned Lockwood down and raised a fist above his head.

"Give me ONE good reason why I shouldn't punch your pretty face right now."

Lockwood's scratched and mildly bruised face split into one of his winning smiles, his whimpering temporarily ceased.

"You think my face is pretty?"

George reared back for the punch and Lockwood started shrieking incomprehensibly while Lucy started telling them both off.

"Wait - WAIT - you'll crumple the invites!"

"What invites?"

"To a - uh - how do I put this..."

"Spit it OUT - "

"Wedding!"

"Whose?"

Lockwood brought his arms down from where he was shielding his face, smiling bashfully. The three of them exchanged looks ranging from congratulatory to homicidal.

"What about -"

"He came around. We had lunch with him earlier."

"Wow. That's...congratulations. I just can't believe..."

"I know, we can't either."

"...that you didn't come straight home?"

"Geo- look, George, I wanted to, believe me, I - not the face, NOT THE -"

TAGLIST: @neewtmas @ahead-fullofdreams @mitskiswift99 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @elenianag080 @mohinithoughts @avdiobliss @snoopyluver20 @mischivana @dangelnleif

[vi-trying-to-survive]

Don’t Tell

Anthony Lockwood x f!Reader

Warnings: None this is just fluff only ;) 💖💖💖

Summary: Y/N and Lockwood have been together for a while now, but they’d rather have the first few moments of their relationship to themselves. Still, that doesn’t stop them from having a few mishaps before they finally decide to let George and Lucy in on the secret.

A/N: I really really hope you guys like this one :) 💖💖💖 It took a while cause it is slightly longer :’) 💖💖💖 but I just wanna say I love the fake dating trope, I legit live for it :) 💖💖💖 and I hope you do too ;) 💖💖💖 Other than that I hope you have a great day :) 💖💖💖

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He pulled away, leaving her breathless. She laced her fingers through his hair, pulling herself to be closer to him. It looked desperate and it was desperate, she could admit that. It had been a long day. Somehow they had ended up entangled, on his bed, it was sinking in under the weight of them. He hovered over her, chewing his lip slightly, “So maybe we shouldn’t tell George and Lucy yet ?”.

“I- Why ?”, her forehead was crinkled. There didn’t seem to be any proper reason to withhold them from this fact.

He frowned, collapsing over her. She gasped, her lips parted in shock. He didn’t seem to notice, resting his head on her chest, “It’ll ruin the whole group dynamic”.

“Plus George is not the best with change”, his voice vibrated on her skin, sending chills down her spine.

She adjusted herself to face him, a brow raised, “That is true, but still are you sure it’s not cause you don’t want people to know we’re together ?”. It was teasing, but a small voice in the back of her head taunted her. What if he was embarrassed of her ? What if this was all for the sake of his reputation ? She hurriedly shook the thoughts from her mind. He would never do that to her.

“I am most definitely sure”, he leaned back, gaze fixed on hers. Her heart pounded in her chest. She turned away, feeling vulnerable.

He tilted her head back to his with a finger, “Why would anyone ever want to hide you ?”. His voice was quiet, like he was asking himself a question. His eyes flickered to her lips before coming back to meet hers.

She suddenly felt self conscious. Whining she covered her face with a hand, “Lockwood”.

“I’m being serious, I promise”, he laughed, pulling her arm away.

His palm remained on her cheek, gently running his thumb back and forth. She leaned into his touch. Gently he pressed his lips onto hers. His taste of bergamot and honey never got old. She smiled into the kiss. They parted for air and he gave her a lopsided grin, “Just for a few months, until we finish our current jobs and then we’ll tell them”.

“I promise”, he linked their pinkies, curling them together.

“Fine, but if anyone asks, this was your idea”, she rolled her eyes. Somehow, he could always convince her to do anything, and he was all to aware of that. He was lucky she loved him. Still, what was a few months right ? They could pull this off, they have done worse before.

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“Morning”, he whispered, tugging her closer to him.

She yawned, “Mmhm, good morning”. She pressed her lips against his cheek, before snuggling her face deeper into his neck.

“This is nice”, he smiled, running his fingers through her hair.

Her eyes fluttered shut and she pulled the covers up to her nose, “Yes it is, but now you have to get out”.

“What ? Why ?”, his eyes went wide.

She patted him on the chest, “You were the one who wanted to hide our relationship”. Was it a little mean ? Maybe, still it was his idea and so he had to suffer the consequences. Plus, she wasn’t going to be out of bed at 6 am if she didn’t have to. If she had to sacrifice his heat and comfort for that, so be it.

“No one’s awake right now”, he groaned into her hair.

She pressed her lips together, trying hard not to giggle, “George is an early riser”.

“Darling, don’t make me”, he was annoyed, but his legs were already hanging of the edge of the bed.

The springs of the mattress creaked at the loss of his weight. He was mumbling under his breath, but she just laughed, “Bye-bye”.

The door clicked open, and he padded out, but just as it was about to swing closed it just didn’t. She opened an eye at the offensive lack of noise. The room was dark except for a sliver of light shining through the hallway. She winced at the sudden bright light, hissing at the cold air as she got out of bed, but stopped when she heard another door.

A part of her longed to tuck herself back to sleep, but her other half won, as she peered out the crack in the door. His back was to her, hair still ruffled, “I- George”. She could only imagine the look on his face.

“Lockwood what are you doing awake at this time ?”, his brows were furrowed inquisitively.

“I- I uh- Actually I wanted to talk to you”, she wondered if George could hear the unsteadiness in his voice.

“About what ?”, he sounded even more confused.

She held her breath, silently reassuring herself that he would be able to think of a believable lie, though his track-record said otherwise. This was it, a whole 2 weeks in and they were about to be caught. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, “About- You know I think we need to reevaluate the effectiveness our organisation system”.

“You really think so ?”, he grinned. What ? How had that worked ? She figured she should just be thankful that it did, and that he hadn’t gotten suspicious.

“Definitely”, he was nodding his head.

She watched as George’s shadow descended the stairs, “So was I, I had a few ideas that I wanted to run by you”.

She clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter, sneaking a glance at him as he threw his head back, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He caught her eye and glared, but again, this was his plan she thought. She could only give him a sympathetic smile and shrug her shoulders.

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“Has anyone seen the forms that we needed to send to DEPRAC”, his fingers ran through his hair. She chewed her bottom lip. He was worried, and she couldn’t blame him. As an agency they haven’t exactly had a great relationship with the government, which could be a problem at times. Let’s be honest, most of the time.

Lucy sat across from her, forehead creased, “No, can you remember where you last saw them ?”.

He frowned, “I-”.

She felt her chest tighten at his expression and thought hard. “You put them into that book, I can’t remember what it was called, but then you put it into the second drawer of your desk”, she snapped her fingers, putting her mug down.

He was beaming, “Right, thanks”. She grinned back. Sending her a wink, he bounded out of the room, presumably to fetch the papers. She looked away, her stomach doing a flip. How is it that this still happened, despite them being together for a month.

“Great memory ?”, Lucy took a sip from her cup, eyeing her suspiciously. The smile fell from her face, she blew over her cup, the steam flying up. She could think of a believable, convincing response.

She bit her lip, “I uh- Yeah”. Right, so maybe it wasn’t one of her best moments, but in her defence, it was hard to think of a good enough answer under Lucy’s piercing gaze. She was only glad he was not here to catch it, knowing she would never hear the end of it.

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“Is that- Is that a hickey ?”, her eyes went wide, a heat rising to her face. She hastily put away the groceries in their cupboards. Shit shit shit. Tilting her head to the left, she could see that his mouth was gaping just a little.

She spun around, with tight-lipped smile, “I- No, no of course not, I actually”. George and Lucy shared a glance, and she took the opportunity to send him a pointed look. She had specifically told him not to make it visible, but he was persistent and stubborn. It’s not like she wasn’t enjoying it in the moment, but now she was beginning to regret it. She cursed under her breath. Think of something, she mouthed at him.

He grinned, “She fell down yesterday”. He nodded at her. Another one of his brilliant ideas, she thought she could cry right there.

George raised a brow, “She fell down, on her neck ?”. He didn’t sound like he believed them. Hell, she didn’t even believe them. Still, he looked so confident, she wanted to laugh. Hopefully it would just blow over their heads.

“Yes, while we were doing the shopping, she just missed a step and there she was on the ground”, he gestured plaintively. Please give up she thought. Thankfully they shrugged their shoulders and continued their breakfast. She sighed, relieved that their interrogation was over, but she still punched his arm as she took a seat at the table.

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It had been 3 months of sneaking around and lying, of stolen kisses and secret dates. They never went a week without a single slip up or mistake, and despite it all they had somehow pulled it off, George and Lucy both did not have an inkling of an idea that they were in a relationship. Still, they had had enough of it. Everything was becoming a bit overwhelming and they would much rather let their friends in on the secret.

They stood on the stairs out of view, she on the step above him, making her slightly taller. He had his arms around her waist and hers were around his neck. She tilted her head to the side, watching him closely, “Are you sure ?”.

He only nodded his head, giving her a kiss on the forehead. This was hard for him, change, it had always been the four of them, friends. He was worried that this, them, would change all that, and a part of her worried that too, but the greater part of her was sure that their friends would be welcoming to the idea. She pressed her lips together to stop the wide grin from forming. Gently he entangled himself from her, except for their hands still interlocked, leading her to the living room.

The room was dimly lit, their heads immediately turned as they entered. Their gaze shifted down to their intertwined hands for a second before coming back to their faces. He squeezed her palm, “Right so, I um- We have something to tell you guys”.

“That you guys are dating ?”, George didn’t even look up from his book.

She was puzzled, pursing her lips, “I- How did you know ?”. They were so subtle, so discreet. Just a few minutes ago they were giving each other pats on the back for their acting abilities. Clearly it was starting to look like the exact opposite.

“We both knew for the longest time, it was quite obvious”, Lucy gave her an apologetic look.

“And you never said anything ?”, he ran a palm across his face. Well now she just felt embarrassed. They shared a sheepish smile.

She shrugged her shoulders, “I mean we just wanted to see how long you too would manage”.

She rolled her eyes plopping down onto the sofa. He was not far behind her, an arm was instinctively at her side, and she leaned into him. At least now they didn’t have to second guess every choice they made. George grinned, finally peeking up from behind the papers, “That and it was extremely entertaining, for us at least”. They both laughed. He groaned, chucking a cushion at their friend, which he easily dodged. She couldn’t help but laugh too as he buried his face in her hair.

[waitimcomingtoo]

Come Back…Be Here

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: you and Tom have qualms about your first kiss happening in front of a camera, so you do something about it

Masterlist

“Cut. Everybody take lunch. When we come back, we’ll start with scene 24 B.”

“24 B? Isn’t that the…” You trailed off and looked over at Tom, who was really looking at you with wide eyes.

“Scene where you two kiss? Yep. Sebastian and I already got our seats ready to watch.” Anthony Mackie said as he wrapped an arm around you and Tom and pulled your heads together.

“Oh my God.” You groaned as Tom burned a bright red.

“He’s in our trailer making popcorn right now, but he wanted me to give you these.” Anthony went into his pockets and took out two tubes of chapstick.

“Chapstick? Seriously?” You gave him an unamused look. Tom, on the other hand, took a tube and put it in his pocket for later.

“Seriously.” Anthony nodded. “This is the big kiss in the movie, guys. It’s your characters highly anticipated reunion that the audience has to wait the entire movie to see. Don’t you want it to be good? And cherry flavored?”

“No one’s gonna care about the flavor of our chapstick.” You rolled your eyes.

“You’re right. All they’re gonna care about is how good the kiss is. This kiss is gonna be rewatched for decades to come. Not to put pressure on you guys or anything, but this is the one kiss in this historic movie. It’s gotta be special. People have waited their whole lives to see this movie. On the night it opens, everyone and their mom is gonna be seated with wide, unblinking eyes, ready to watch it. And this kiss has the potential to go down in history as one of the best on screen kisses in movie history. You know, unless you two fuck it up and it ends up going down as one of the most awkward on screen kisses. It’s really up to you guys. No pressure.” Anthony smirked snd patted both your backs.

“Right.” Tom gulped. “No pressure.”

“You’re so immature. We’re gonna be fine. We’re adults. We know how to kiss.” You insisted, making Tom blush again.

“But do you know how to kiss each other?” Anthony asked, making you pause to think. You and Tom exchanged awkward looks before looking away.

“Yeah.” You said without confidence.

“How hard can it be?” Tom laughed nervously.

“I don’t know. What if you noses smush together? What if you both lean the same way? What if you guys finally kiss and realize there is 0 chemistry between you?” Anthony gasped as he planted ideas in your head.

“Shut up, Mackie.” You groaned. “Why don’t you kiss deez nuts if you’re so worried about it?”

“Just think about it, guys. A little chapstick can’t hurt.” He shrugged before walking away. You and Tom stood in awkward silence for a minute as Anthony’s word hung over you.

“You know what? Who cares what he says?” You shrugged. “Let’s go eat something before we have to film the…”

“Kiss?” Tom blushed and finished your sentence for you when you couldn’t.

“Yeah. That.”

“Cool. Let’s go.” He held out his arm and you linked yours through it before waking off set.

A few minutes later, you and Tom were in your trailer while eating lunch and talking about everything but the scene. You avoided bringing it up for as long as you could but when an always silence feel between you, it had to be said.

“It’s gonna be so weird kissing in front of everyone. I can already hear the comments Mackie is gonna make.” You said without looking at him.

“I know. A bunch of dudes behind cameras and the entire Marvel cast watching is not how I imagined our first kiss would be.” Tom sighed in agreement.

“Oh. So you’ve imagined our first kiss?” You smiled coyly and raised your eyebrows at him.

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Tom blushed and looked away from you.

“It’s okay. I have too.”

“You have?” He perked up when he heard this.

“Of course I have.” You shrugged like it was obvious. Maybe it should’ve been obvious, but it still made Tom smile to hear it.

“Well what did you imagine?” He asked timidly. You smiled and held up a finger before brushing the hair off your shoulders.

“Okay. Here’s what I imagined.” You began. “We would be sitting on a couch, probably yours, and we’d be watching something that neither of us were really into but we were too far into it to turn it off. And since we weren’t really enjoying whatever was on the TV, we were talking over it and looking at it every now and then. And our conversation was much more entertaining than the TV, by the way. Then something on the TV would catch my eye and I’d watch it for a second. But instead of looking at the TV too, you’d look at me. And when I catch you looking at me, I ask what you’re looking at. And you get embarrassed and say nothing. So I push you a little and you admit that you were looking at me. And I ask why and you say you’re always looking at me. And I ask why again and you say “can’t help it”. Just like that. Can’t help it. With maybe a little shrug or embarrassed laugh. But I wouldn’t laugh. I’d stare at you for a while and then kiss you. Because that would be the only thing to do in that situation. And that would be our first kiss.”

Tom was silent for a long time after your speech. His mouth was dropped slightly as he stared at you in disbelief. The details told him you’d given this a lot of thought and imagined it hopefully quite a lot. You didn’t know his stunned silence was a good thing, so you tried to fill it.

“Can I explain?” You said quickly. “It’s just, you and I watch movies or shows together a lot. So I kinda wrote a script in my head of a moment that could potentially happen between us. But then I knew that would never happen because I had just imagined it and it would be impossible for my imagination to come true. I don’t know. I do that sometimes. I do it a lot, actually. I know it’s really weird, but I can’t help but write scenes in my head about my real life and how it may play out.”

Tom was silent again as you confessed something you had never told anyone before. He didn’t mean to keep quiet, he was just too deep into his own thoughts that he couldn’t form a word.

“Please say something.” You said after another beat of silence passed.

“I thought I’d kiss you before a premier.” Tom said suddenly. “When you’re in a pretty dress and I’m feeling confident because someone else picked out my clothes. And I’d tell you you were beautiful and then kiss you because I…”

“Because why?” You asked when he trailed off.

“Couldn’t help it.” Tom shrugged and gave an embarrassed laugh. It was your time to be speechless as Tom said the exact right thing. You smiled softly and stared into his brown eyes, seeing something new this time.

“Well it seems we had very different ideas of how our first kiss would be.” You said with a a coy smile.

“It seems we did.” He laughed softly and stared into your eyes. You were both taking one second glances at the others lips but neither of you dared to make the first move.

“I guess now we’ll never know which one of us was right. Or if neither of us were.” Tom said to fill the silence.

“I know. I don’t know why, it it kinda makes me sad. I wish we had more time to know what it would’ve been like before we had to film this scene. I wish it could’ve happened as us, not as our characters, you know?”

“I definitely know.”

“It almost makes me think…” You trailed off as you looked away from him in embarrassment.

“That we should kiss now?” Tom filled in your sentence for you. You looked at him in surprise and his eyes widened.

“I’m sorry. I totally jumped the gun, didn’t I?That’s probably not even what you were gonna say. I assumed and I made things awkward and now you’re probably thinking-“

Tom’s words stopped in his throat when he found himself being pulled into a kiss. You had one hand behind his neck and the other on his cheek as you kissed him. It wasn’t like either of you imagined, but how could it be? Whatever Tom thought he’d feel when he finally got to kiss you was nothing compared to the butterflies erupting inside his system. And it was perfect. Your noses didn’t smush together, you didn’t lean the same way, and the chemistry was evident in the buzzing you felt in your lips as you kissed him. All the pressure melted away and allowed you to be yourselves, alone in your trailer, having your first kiss. Tom cupped your face and kissed you back for as long as you let him. You only broke apart when you heard a pounding on your door followed by,

“Are you both in there? They’re looking for you in costuming.” One of the PA’s voices came from outside your trailer door. You and Tom looked at each other for a moment, both wishing you could stay in this moment just a little longer. But when they knocked on the door again, you got up.

“I’ll see you on set?” You smiled politely before wiping your lips.

“Y-yeah. See you then.” Tom stammered as his face burned.

You and Tom were separated when you were sent to get your costumes on. You watched to catch him before going to the makeup trailer, but he was already gone. He looked for you after getting his hair touched up, but you’d already been taken to set.

Finally, you were reunited on the set when it came time to film the kiss scene. It wasn’t the reunion you were hoping for since there was a camera between you and about a dozen crew members. And sitting with teasing grins right behind the camera crew was Anthony and Sebastian with a bowl of popcorn between them. If you hadn’t already kissed Tom, this might’ve bothered you. But you didn’t pay them any mind and only looked at Tom.

You and Tom snuck glances at each other as the director went over the blocking for the scene but weren’t able to exchange many words. Finally, “action” was called and you filmed the scene. You said your lines, punched a few invisible aliens, and ended it all with a kiss. It was different this time since the setting wasn’t the same, but it felt just as right. You had a moment to look in each others eyes afterwards before being told to take it from the top. You were so focused on each other that the comments and cheers from Anthony and Sebastian didn’t even reach your ears.

You both felt like you were rushing through your lines just to get to the kiss but it ended up working in your favor because the director had you do the scene over and over again until you slowed it down.

“All right. Great work guys. That’s a wrap.” The director called out.

“A wrap? Are you sure you don’t need any other take?” Tom asked, just looking for another chance to kiss you.

“Nope. We definitely got it.”

“Shouldn’t we do one more for safety?” You chimed in, making Tom smile to know you were on the same page.

“I know you’re a perfectionist but trust me, we got the shot. You guys looked great. It was super convincing. It really looked like you guys have been waiting ages to kiss each other.”

“What? That’s crazy.” You laughed awkwardly and looked everywhere but Tom.

“So…one more take?” Tom asked, ignoring everything the director said.

“Come on.” You laughed and linked your arm through his to walk off set together.

When you reached the end of the set right before the pavement that led to the the trailers, Tom froze.

“What’s wrong?” You wondered.

“I don’t want to leave this spot.”

“Why not?”

“Because then it’s over. If I walk off this set, I’m not Peter anymore. And if I’m not Peter, I can’t…”

“Kiss me?” You laughed shyly when he trailed off.

“Well since you asked so nicely.” Tom smirked and went in to kiss you. You laughed and pushed him away but secretly would’ve let it happen. You stayed in that moment for just a second before being interrupted by the one and only.

“There’s the happy couple. You do know the cameras are off now, right Tom? That means no more kissing.” Anthony teased as he wrapped his arms around the both of you again.

“I know that. I just wanted to make sure Y/n knew that.” Tom quickly lied.

“Uh huh.” Anthony said sarcastically. “Well, all jokes aside, you guys did a great job. The chemistry was great. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you guys were in love.”

“Hahaha. What?” Tom forced a laugh that went in for much too long.

“In love. Imagine that.” You forced a laugh as well and avoided all eye contact. Anthony felt like he had succeeded in his mission to tease the two of you and walked away feeling satisfied. You and Tom stood in silence for a minute, both unsure of what to do next.

“Well, I guess I should probably go return my costume.” You said and nodded towards the costuming trailer.

“Yeah. Me too. I should probably go and do that.” He agreed but made no effort to move.

“Right. What are you gonna do after that?” You asked without looking at him.

“Probably eat, shower, and then go to sleep.” He shrugged. You nodded your head and he couldn’t help but notice you looked a little disappointed.

“Yeah. I’ll probably do the same.” You replied. Tom wondered if he had just missed an opportunity to continue to moment by asking you to eat with him. Before he could fix his mistake, you spoke up.

“I guess I’ll see you later then.” You said with a right smile.

“Yeah. You too.” He said quietly, realizing now that he had let the moment slip from him. You waved to him before walking away and all he could do was watch.

That night, you had trouble falling asleep with everything that was on your mind. You tossed and turned for what felt like hours but when you checked your phone, it had only been 20 mins. You stared up at your ceiling for a minute before letting out a sigh. You knew there was no chance of you going to sleep, so you decided to go see Tom. You got out of your bed and went to open your trailer door. When you opened it up, Tom was standing outside of it with his hand raised as if he was about to knock on your door. He put his hand down and smiled shyly.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” You smiled. “You couldn’t sleep either?”

“No. Too much on my mind.” He said without every taking his eyes off you.

“Same here.” You replied. You stared into each other eyes for a minute, both having so much to say but no idea how to string it into words.

“Tom?” You said finally.

“Yeah?”

“Do you wanna stay in here tonight?” Was all you had to say. Tom immediately stepped into your trailer as he wrapped an arm around your waist. His hands moved up and down your back as he kissed you. You moved backwards together until you fell onto your bed.

“Is this gonna ruin our friendship?” You pulled away to whisper against his lips.

“I hope so.” He laughed and kissed you again.

“I’m serious. Are things ever gonna be able to go back to the way they were?” You asked nervously as you traced patterns on his cheek with your fingernail.

“Do you want them too?” Tom asked with a little disappointment in his voice.

“No.” You shook your head.

“Well good. Me either.” Tom’s lips tugged into a smile before pecking your lips again.

“But what’s gonna happen? We wrap filming in a few days and then we go off to different countries. Who knows when we’ll see each other next?” You frowned and sat back a little as the reality set in. But Tom was determined not to let the moment end. He pulled you into a long kiss and then held your face in his hands.

“I don’t know what happens next.” He admitted. “I don’t even know what happening right now. But I know what I feel. And this feels right.”

And that was all you needed to hear.

A few days later after wrapping on the movie, you drove Tom to the airport for his flight back to London. You walked him as far as you could before saying your goodbyes. You hugged in silence for what felt like hours before he pulled you into a long kiss. You tried to send him on his way, but he pulled you right back into a kiss. He did this a few more times as his flight was called over the loud speaker.

“Okay. That’s the last kiss. You’re gonna miss your flight.” You said once you pulled away.

“One more.” He insisted and cupped your face to kiss you again.

“No more. You need to get onto your plane.” You laughed as he peppered kissed all over your face.

“Okay. Fine.” He playfully rolled his eyes and started to walk away. He walked right back after just a second with a smile on his face.

“Can I have a kiss goodbye?” He asked, making you laugh.

“Tom.” You said pointedly.

“Please?” He whined. “I’m not gonna see you for a month. I need to stock up.”

You couldn’t help but smile and held his hands as you kissed him again.

“Okay. That was the last kiss. For real this time.” You told him.

“Uh uh.” He pulled you back by the hand and kissed you again.

“Tom.” You whined. “As much as I don’t want you to go, I can’t have you miss your flight because of me. Get on your plane.”

“I can’t. I can’t walk away from this yet.” He said, and suddenly, you stopped caring about his flight. You allowed yourself to be selfish and admit you didn’t want him to go.

“I know the feeling.” You said as you stared into his eyes. Tom looked into your for a minute before putting one hand on your face and pulling you into one last, slow, soft, kiss. You didn’t try to push him away this time and let him kiss you for as long as he needed. When he pulled away, he held both your hands and rested his forehead against yours.

“I’ll go. But I need to tell you something first.”

“I need to tell you something too.” You told him as nervous butterflies filled your chest.

“Should we say it at the same time?” He smiled softly.

“Okay. Yeah. Let’s do that.” You nodded and prepared yourself.

“Ready?” He asked you.

“Uh huh. Go.”

“I really like you.” He said at the same time that you said, “I love you.”

You froze for a minute when you realized you’d said too much, but he immediately broke into a smile and laughed.

“Oh thank God. I was totally lying before. I downplayed it in case you didn’t feel the same. I’m in love with you too.” Tom told you.

“You are? You’re in love with me?” You smiled in surprise. He nodded his head and shrugged a little.

“Can’t help it.”

Tag List 🏷️

@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @serendipitous-amor @tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl

@jackiehollanderr @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland @flixndchill

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave​ ​ @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild

@canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @smilexcaptainx @quaksonhehe @kelieah

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@maybemona @alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom @xo-spidey

[bella-rose29]

Deck the Halls (and not your partner) - part 9

this has been a long time coming but it's finally here! have some simping over lockwood's hands to make up for the wait (there's more next chapter too 😉)

Word count: 5k words

Warnings: swearing, Steph (HUGE WARNING, I HATE HER IN THIS BUT IT'S NECESSARY FOR THE CONTINUATION OF THE SERIES, SHE MADE ME WANT TO THROW UP), a lot of simping over lockwood's hands (also he's wearing a ring), innuendos ig? references to not so sfw times, vague references to body image issues and related things, I think that's it?

family photos and a gingerbread house competition (part 1)

series master list

(couldn't pick between these two so I put them both, you're welcome, also thinking about it they both match the vibes that lockwood has in this part)

“Remind me why we're doing this?”

“Because it's a tradition, Anthony. I would have thought this would be right up your street!”

“Well it is, but I don't see why we have to be stood next to Steph and Linda.”

“That's just Mum's positioning. She says it looks best that way and nobody argues with her.”

Anthony hummed, looking around at the family members gathered in the living room. The fire had been set up a few minutes ago, Ben stacking up the kindling like building blocks and setting some larger pieces of wood around them, striking a match and closing the door. Most people were already ready for the family photo, and Anthony and Y/n were sat on their loveseat while they waited for Steph and Linda to come downstairs. 

Predictably, the two of them were still in their bedrooms fussing about the fact they had to do this, but Emma was taking full advantage of the fact that nobody could leave and had forced them into joining them. 

"I don't know why they're so upset, really,” Anthony mused, trailing his fingertips over Y/n's shoulder. The way they were sat with her curled into his side made it a slightly awkward angle, but he could put aside the pain in his own shoulder if it meant he was closer to her. “I think that you look adorable in that jumper.” Y/n frowned, scrunching her nose up and glaring up at him. 

“Adorable? I look like I've been shoved into a charity shop and been pulled out backwards through the racks!”

“The dancing reindeer really take the cake, if I'm being honest.”

“Stop it. They look deranged.”

“They look happy, darling.” He paused, taking in the wide eyes and toothy grins of the reindeer that decorated the matching red jumpers that the whole family were wearing.  “And possibly like they've seen too many deaths. But they're smiling, and they've got... what is that, chocolate bars?”

“I think it's beer, Ant. The deranged reindeer are drinking beer while they're being wrapped up in a net of Christmas lights.”

"Christmas lights... that actually light up," he grinned, pressing the button on her jumper to demonstrate his point. Y/n sighed, trying to look cross with him, but the small smile on her face gave her away. 

“You're such a ridiculous idiot sometimes,” she said quietly, gazing fondly at him. The lights on her jumper were still flashing, decorating her face in different colours. 

“Yeah, but I'm your ridiculous idiot.” She snorted, then kissed him gently on the lips. If they hadn't been in the presence of most of her family members, Anthony would have held her there for hours. 

As it was, however, she reluctantly pulled away a few seconds later, smiling widely when he automatically chased her mouth. 

“Alright, love birds, stop making the rest of us feel so single and lonely,” Will called out, attempting to sound annoyed. Anthony knew that the man couldn't be happier about his little sister getting a boyfriend, and that he was easily settling in to his newfound role of teasing them about their relationship. 

“Shove off, Will,” Y/n rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at her brother, and he responded by sneakily giving her the middle finger. 

“Right,” Emma declared, looking around the room at everyone gathered. “Where's Linda? And Steph?”

"I think they're still upstairs, Mum," John replied, not looking up from the sofa as he sat on top of Sam and whacked him around the head with a pillow. Sam looked like he was being slightly suffocated under his brother's weight, but nobody seemed to take much notice. The two of them fought like that a lot, and Anthony supposed that everyone was used to it now which was why nobody intervened. 

“John, stop killing your brother for five minutes and go and find them. Tell them they need to come down right away or I'm dragging them. And putting flour in their hair.” John went to complain, but at the glare that was sent his way he quickly shut his mouth and headed out the room, not before delivering one last hit to Sam's head for good measure. 

Within three minutes John was back, Linda and Steph in tow as they grumbled about the jumpers they had been forced into. 

“This is disgusting. And we're all wearing the same ones? Really, Emma? It's bad enough that you made your own sister wear this... monstrosity, but forcing it on all of us? Unbelievable.” Anthony barely hid his scowl as Linda talked down on her sister, and if he didn't think Emma could defend herself he would have leapt to do it himself. 

“You can take it off the moment we're done here, alright? But this is my house, Linda, and you're playing by my rules. It's not like you can go anywhere, so you might as well shut it and take the damn photo with us.”

Linda opened and closed her mouth like a fish for a few moments, before deciding against responding and moving to where her sister had pointed for her to stand. 

“Thank you,” Emma sighed, finishing setting up the camera. “Right, everyone get into position please, no squabbling!”

Anthony smiled as Y/n huffed and stood up, stretching out her limbs after being curled up in his lap for the past however many minutes, and within the next five minutes (that felt much longer than that) all family members present were in the places that Y/n’s mother had assigned to them, and she was clicking the button on the camera to take the photo. She rushed to take her own place next to Ben as the timer started counting down, plastering on a wide smile a second before the flash went. 

“Can we go now?” Steph whined from where she stood to Anthony’s left. She’d had to squeeze in to fit in the picture, and the sheer amount of perfume she had on was making Anthony suffocate slightly.

“Uh, hang on. Let me check that it’s a good photo. Ugh, Tom, honey, you’re meant to be smiling, not staring at the camera like you want to kill it. Let’s try again. Sam, don’t be making stupid faces this time, alright?”

“Yes, Mum,” Sam said, stifling a laugh when Will poked him in the side. Nana Jean ruffled Tom’s hair, much to Emma’s chagrin (it had taken her ages to get it somewhat neat), but the action gained a smile in response. 

They tried again, the flash going off a second time, and when Emma gave the all-clear Linda and Steph immediately moved to take off their jumpers. “Hideous things,” Linda muttered, clearly not in the holiday spirit. 

“You two had better not go anywhere,” Nana Jean said, pointing a crooked finger at them when they went to leave. “We’re building gingerbread houses next and if nothing else it’ll be a competition where you can attempt to destroy everyone else, so get your asses in the kitchen!” Anthony had been pleasantly surprised at how much energy the 80-year-old woman had, especially since her knees were basically completely ruined, and he had found himself engaged in lively conversation with her on more than one occasion. She wasn’t entirely fond of Y/n’s choice of work, but from what Anthony could tell that was more to do with the fact that she was very fond of her granddaughter, and would rather not receive a letter in the mail telling her that Y/n was dead. 

“We’ll go together, right?” Y/n asked, looking up at him while everyone was getting into pairs. He was just about to answer when Nana Jean appeared out of nowhere and grabbed his arm. He looked down at her in surprise (she was quite a small woman), confusion all over his face. 

“I’m taking this one, you can go with your Gramps. I’ve never won with him, not once. This’ll be my year, I can feel it! And your lover boy is going to help me!”

“Good luck, Nana. I don’t think Anthony can cook toast, let alone gingerbread.” Y/n was smirking, crossing her arms as she let triumph seep into her expression despite not having started the competition yet. 

“Oh really? You also didn’t think I’d be any good at snowball fights. You’d be surprised what I can do with my hands, darling.” He immediately blushed at the look on Y/n’s face, and steadfastly refused to look at either her or Nana Jean. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he muttered, shaking his head and hoping the situation would end so he could go and bury himself in blankets and hibernate for years. He felt someone nudge his side and his cheeks got hotter still when he saw Nana Jean smiling up at him with a cheeky look on her face. 

“I’m sure Y/n/n knows all about what your hands can do, love.”

“Nana!” Y/n cried, exasperation in her voice. “You can’t say that!”

“Well I don’t think I’m wrong! You’ve been together eight months now; I married your Gramps in less time! Come on, Anthony!” She cheerfully turned and headed out the living room, dragging Anthony behind her and leaving Y/n to stand staring incredulously after them.

~~~

Y/n still hadn’t fully recovered from Anthony’s comment (and then Nana Jean’s addition) about his hands, and she was meant to be making gingerbread. 

Her Gramps had settled at the dining table with tracing paper, a pencil and far too many rulers, while she was measuring out the ingredients and mixing them together in a large bowl. He’d been an architect before he retired, helping draw up the plans for the Fittes Building and providing sketches for housing that had helped when people were on the streets at the beginning of the Problem because their houses were unsafe. Y/n had listened to him talking about his job a thousand times, but she still didn’t know what the purpose of all the different rulers were. 

“Gramps, you know you don’t have to get that technical about it, right?”

“Oh yes I do! I’m not letting Jeanie win this year, oh no! She thinks I’ve lost my touch with architecture, but I was doing badly deliberately because I knew, one year, she’d get fed up and go with someone else! She has no idea what’s coming!” Her Gramps chuckled, shaking his head and clutching his side as he thought about how deceptive he had been. Y/n smiled, remembering all the previous years where Nana Jean had become so exasperated at his apparent incapability that she’d given up all hope of winning with him. It had had no impact on their marriage, and the two of them were just as in love as they had been when they first got married, but Nana Jean also had a healthy love of winning things, and gingerbread was one of her specialties. 

“Focus, love, you’re tipping the mix out the bowl,” her Gramps said, nudging her in the arm. Y/n looked down to see the mess that she’d made over the table, and cursed softly under her breath. “What were you thinking about to make you zone out like that?” She flushed, and cast a quick glance over to where Anthony was stood at the island in the kitchen carrying out the same job as her. Without thinking, her gaze drifted down to where his hands were mixing the ingredients together in the bowl, and when her Gramps coughed she snapped her focus back to him and realised that she hadn’t actually given him an answer. Damn her Nana for saying what she said about Anthony’s hands and putting thoughts into her head! 

“Sorry,” she muttered, trying to ignore the weird look he was giving her and the heat that was now permanently in her cheeks. 

“That’s alright, love. Just scoop it back up, like this, there we are. That’s looking pretty good I’d say. Go ahead and add the next bits now, and I’ll finish drawing up these stencils.”

~~~

“What do I need to do now?” Anthony asked, holding his hands just above the bowl. Nana Jean looked over from where she had finished cutting up the last of the stencils and smiled. 

“Ah, you’ve added in the butter mixture, good lad. Looks perfect to me, so let’s get it rolled out and we can start cutting. We need to make sure we get to the oven before Richard and Y/n do, because then we’ll have a head start on the decorating.”

“Alright.”

“You might want to wash your hands first though, what with all that mix on there. Make sure you get as much as you can in the bowl before you go and scrub ‘em.” Anthony nodded, starting to push off all the gingerbread mix that had clung to his fingers while he’d been bringing the ingredients together. He heard laughter from across the room and immediately recognised it as Y/n’s, which was strange because he didn’t think that he’d heard her laugh so unapologetically since coming here. Normally it was forced, or real but contained, and although they hadn’t got along before this entire situation had happened she had still laughed like she was currently (normally when he fell over from tripping on his coat). She was gorgeous when she smiled widely, and even more so when she laughed, and Anthony paused in his actions as he watched her be properly happy around her family for one of the first times this holiday. 

He knew that she got on well with her Gramps, despite his reservations about her job and some of the comments he made about her being ‘too much to handle sometimes’, but clearly they could forget about that when they were baking together, without the pressure of Steph and Linda watching their every move. 

No, Anthony had that pleasure, and Steph’s eyes hadn’t left his face for the past thirty minutes. 

He felt the weight of her gaze now, and after sending a small wave to Y/n when she looked over and saw him (she’d stuck her middle finger up in response, but had immediately blown him a kiss when he acted hurt) he sighed and turned to Steph. “Can I help you?” He asked, resuming his previous actions of taking the gingerbread mixture off of his hands and depositing it into the bowl. 

“I think you can,” she answered, plastering on a sickly sweet smile and slowly walking over to stand on his left. She stopped barely a hair’s breadth away from his arm, and the perfume she had on was swarming his senses and making him want to gag. It was just as cloying as her smile. “See, I’ve been thinking a lot recently,” Steph started, and Anthony bit back his retort of ‘careful, don’t strain yourself too much’ and tried not to flinch when her hand came in contact with his shoulder. “I think that we haven’t really had a chance to… get to know one another. Properly. And I really would like to… get to know you, Anthony.” Her fingers danced down his arm, and he couldn’t help the grimace that came across his face at her tone. He stepped away a little, trying to not knock Nana Jean while still putting some distance between Stephanie and her wandering hands (that had since moved to his chest). 

“I’m not sure I follow,” he frowned, turning and moving to the sink. He’d gotten as much of the sticky gingerbread mixture off of his hands as possible, and now all that was left was to douse them in water. Steph followed him, gripping his arm tightly and restricting his movement. He was too good of an agent to panic - panicking in his line of work meant almost-certain death - but he could feel unease creeping up his spine and a chill working its way into his bones like miasma. 

“Why don’t we take a minute? Out in the hallway?” He really didn’t like the way she’d said that, all low and what seemed like an attempt at seduction (he couldn’t tell because it was so bad, but from the look in her eyes he could make a guess), and he shook his head. 

“I’ve got to stay here, help out Jean. Shouldn’t you be making your own gingerbread?”

“Oh, that thing? No, we never win so what’s the point? I’d much rather spend some time with you… alone.” Anthony finished washing his hands, trying to ignore how Steph’s grip on his arm had somehow grown stronger in the last minute, and turned back to the island. His eyes scanned the kitchen and dining room, desperately searching for someone that would see he’d been accosted and would come to his rescue, but everybody was busy making gingerbread houses. 

“A minute and a minute only. No more than that,” he said, giving in. Steph’s smile turned smug, and she dragged him out of the kitchen, at which point Nana Jean did look up, sending him a questioning look. Anthony mouthed ‘sorry, back in a moment’ just in time before the kitchen door shut in his face. He sighed, closing his eyes and clenching his jaw in preparation for whatever the hell Steph wanted. “Right,” he started, opening his eyes again and looking around for her. “What’s so urgent that you needed to-” He was cut off by Steph practically lunging at him, grabbing his face and pushing her lips onto his. It took him roughly a second to figure out what was happening, and he quickly got over his initial shock and shoved her off. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, looking at Steph with disgust. 

“Oh come on! I know for a fact that you and Y/n aren’t actually together, so what does it matter? Besides,” she continued, sidling up to him again when he took a step back, “I know that deep down you want this, Anthony.” He frowned, both at her words and at how she was still coming towards him, and the previous chill that had settled on him was now a raging storm. He kept it contained, not wanting to cause too much of a scene when anyone could hear what was happening on the other side of the door (that was now blocked by Steph), but the anger was evident when he spoke. 

“I’m not sure where you got those ideas from, Stephanie, or why you think that I will ever want you when Y/n is in my life, but you need to stop.” She tried to contain her shock at his rough tone, but the way her eyes widened gave her away. 

“Wha-”

“Let me finish. First of all, why do you think we’re not actually together? Are you so disbelieving of the fact that Y/n is a genuinely incredible person and could absolutely get anyone she wanted? Because I consider myself lucky that she even tolerates my presence half the time, let alone wants to date me. Second, even if we weren’t together, it would matter to me. I’m not the sort of person who switches loyalties that easily, and I will always, always, put my relationship with Y/n before any kind of attempted civilities with you. As it happens, she is my girlfriend, and quite honestly the fact that you think I’ll ever leave her for you is laughable.” He was being mean, he knew, but he was too done with Steph’s behaviour to worry about being nice and charming now. He’d pieced together the last of the puzzle that had been bothering him since he first got here too, connecting the dots between Linda and Steph’s comments and Y/n’s subsequently strange behaviour since arriving here. “So no, I do not want this. What I want is for you to stop bullying her, and belittling her, and making her feel like shit all the damn time, because she doesn’t deserve it,” he seethed, jabbing his finger in her face. “She doesn’t deserve any of it at all. All the comments about how much she’s eating, or her body shape, or giving her a gym membership as a Christmas present, or telling her she’s not pretty enough because she doesn’t look like you, or because she wears the same dress two years in a row, all of that needs to stop. Because you make her act like an entirely different person when you’re around and that is not alright. Because Y/n is ten times the person that you will ever be, Steph, because she isn’t a bully. She’s genuine, and kind, and loving, and the most beautiful girl in the entire universe, and she doesn’t deserve a single iota of the hate that you give her.”

Steph was quiet for a minute, processing everything he’d just ranted about. “I overheard you,” she finally said, not looking at him. “That first night when Y/n stormed off upstairs in some stupid tantrum-”

“She stormed off upstairs because you were being a bitch.”

“Right,” Steph didn’t looked too bothered, but she at least had the grace to flinch at his icy tone. “Well after you went up, I followed, because yeah, you’re right, I am very disbelieving that someone as good-looking as you would ever go for someone as ugly as her when you know you could do at least twenty times better, and I thought there was something weird about it! And there was a very large period of time when I couldn’t hear anything, which was really annoying because my legs were getting tired from-”

“Steph, hurry it up.” He had barely any patience remaining now, and her voice had gone all whiny and irritating.

“Oh, yeah. Well, then I heard you two talking about how it was really hard pretending to like each other or something, and you were arguing and saying that you were pretending to date.” Anthony froze for a moment, but rapidly recovered and eased himself into his normal ‘customer service’ persona, plastering on a pitiful smile. Before he could say anything though, Steph was moving towards the kitchen door, one hand on the handle. “It’s been quite fun, really, watching you fake a relationship to everyone. I’ve been trying to work out when the best time to bring it up was ever since Christmas Day after you had a go at me. So, either you tell them all, or I do. You’ve got nowhere to hide now, and I am going to enjoy watching this whole thing collapse on Y/n. I’ll give you until after the competition’s been judged; I wouldn’t want to ruin the festivities.” Her smile was even more sickening than it had been when she’d first started this conversation back in the other room, and after she disappeared into the kitchen and closed the door behind her, Anthony let out a shaky breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding. 

He needed to talk to Y/n before the end of the competition, and figure out how the hell they were going to deal with Steph. 

~~~

She couldn’t stop staring at his hands. 

Since coming back in from whatever hallway conversation he’d had with Steph, Anthony had gone right back to helping Nana Jean with a smile on his face, despite the wary glances he kept throwing towards Y/n’s cousin. She hadn’t seen the two of them step out, but she had noticed that Anthony was gone, because she’d gone to look at his hands again and he wasn’t there. 

Her Gramps was helping her cut out the shapes they would need for their gingerbread house, and she’d been doing just fine until out of the corner of her eye she’d seen Anthony slip back on the ring he always wore. 

He had taken it off earlier when Nana Jean told him he needed to mix the ingredients with his hands, not wanting to get the metal coated in gingerbread mix, but now that his hands were clean again he was adjusting it back on his finger. 

Why couldn’t she stop staring at his hands?

She’d nearly cut a piece of gingerbread entirely wrong just now because she had been too focused on how the metal band looked against his slender fingers while he rolled out the gingerbread, and her Gramps had scolded her by chucking a bit of flour at her face. 

“Pay attention, love, you’re very distracted today. Is everything alright?”

“Oh, uh- yeah… yes. Everything is… is fine.” She hadn’t taken her eyes off of his ring, which meant she didn’t see either her Gramps’ concerned look or Anthony’s bemused one until Will was calling across the kitchen. 

“Keep it in your pants, Squeak! You can take your Lover Boy to bed after the gingerbread competition!” Y/n flushed as her gaze snapped up to meet Anthony’s, finally noticing that she’d been caught blatantly checking out his hands. 

“Alright, Will,” her mother scolded, although there was a hint of amusement behind it that made Y/n want the ground to swallow her up. Anthony just raised his eyebrows at her, smirk on his face, and she didn’t have it in her to fight back, instead turning back to the gingerbread in front of her and cutting out the last of the shapes. 

~~~

“Hey,” Anthony said, finally getting a chance to talk to Y/n. Pretty much everybody either had their gingerbread shapes in the ovens, or they were waiting for a space to free up, so he had been excused by Nana Jean for a while. 

“Oh, hi!” She hadn’t seen him walk over, but the second she realised he was there she reached up and planted a quick kiss on his mouth. He felt himself blush, despite it being over faster than most of their kisses, and she let out a snort. “Really? All I did was give you a peck on the lips, Ant.”

A wave of confidence came over him, and although the heat stayed on his cheeks he leaned down to murmur in her ear. “Well I wasn’t doing much with my hands but I still had you blushing, didn’t I darling?” Y/n had no answer to that (not that it had really been a question; he’d seen her staring earlier and he was almost certain her thoughts had drifted somewhere other than something innocent), and before he pulled back Anthony pressed a lingering kiss just by her ear. 

“You- y- you can’t just say that, Ant! Jesus!” He laughed, wrapping his arm around her waist and bringing her into his chest while she hid her face in his neck. He hummed, happy, until he caught a glimpse of Steph out of the corner of his eye. 

“Darling?”

“What?” she replied, although it was somewhat muffled since her head was still buried in his christmas jumper. 

“We need to talk about something really quickly, do you want to step out?” Y/n lifted her head, frown crossing her features. Anthony wanted to press kisses to it until it disappeared, but the conversation he’d had with Stephanie was at the front of his mind. 

“Okay… is everything alright?” she asked as he led her out of the kitchen by the hand. He didn’t say anything until they were in the library, safely away from all other family members. “Ant, seriously, what’s going on?”

“Steph talked to me earlier.”

“Right… how was it?”

“Awful. She kissed me.”

“WHAT?!”

“Darling, it’s fine, it was less than a second and I shoved her off and-“

“What? Oh! Oh, no, I’m not angry with you, Ant. I’m pissed at her for kissing my fucking boyfriend!”

“Ah. Okay. Well that’s not actually the thing I wanted to talk about.”

“There’s more?!”

“She knows. That we’re not… that we weren’t… that we were faking it. She doesn’t know that we stopped doing that and started actually dating, because she walked away before I could tell her that, but she’s known since the first night and she’s been waiting ever since. She gave me an ultimatum, and said that either we fess up or she does, right after the competition has been judged. Seemed far too happy about watching you suffer, to be honest. I think she might need to see a doctor.” Y/n stared at him, her mouth opening and closing a few times before she shut it completely. 

“So, Steph knows. Steph has known basically the entire time. And Steph has done nothing?”

“Yes. She said something about wanting to ‘watch the whole thing collapse on you’ and that she would ‘enjoy it’ or something?”

“That bitch. Well what are we gonna do then? Because whatever happens it sounds like my family is finding out about this whole… thing,” she flapped her hands between them before sighing and pressing them to her face. “I was right. This is a shitshow.”

“Hey, hey. Worst case scenario is Steph tells everyone, yes? But then we can just tell them the truth. Will knows, and he’ll back us up, right? And I’m fairly certain that Nana Jean knows but I’m not sure how, she just kept making these little comments while we were baking earlier and winking at me and I just - it just feels like she knows.” 

“Nana Jean’s just like that, I suppose. It would make sense if she knew. Okay. You’re right. We can do this. We’ll just wait until Steph tells everyone, and then tell the truth.” Y/n paused for a moment, looking down at the floor while she chewed her lip. “I don’t think I can tell the truth,” she said, and when she brought her gaze back up her eyes were shining with the tears that were threatening to fall. Anthony stepped closer, framing her face in his hands and planting a soft kiss to her forehead. 

“You don’t need to tell the whole truth. Not if you don’t want to. Just the bit about us being in a proper relationship now if you like, and I can do that if you need me to. But whatever you choose, darling, I’ll be with you. I will be right by your side, Y/n, always.”

“Thank you, Anthony.”

“Anytime, my darling. Anytime at all.”

He hoped she knew just how much he meant it. 

part 10

Tag list: @ahead-fullofdreams, @aislinrayne, @anathemaloren, @anthgoldenhrry, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @aysha4life, @bobbys-not-that-small, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @edible-rat-vomit, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @ettadear, @fearlessmoony, @fudosl, @idkbubs, @imaginebeingmentallystable, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @lady-ashfade, @light-23, @locklyebrainrot, @locklyle1kanij, @locknco, @magicandrosewaters, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @newbooksmell777, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @phlooper, @ran23sblog, @reggiepeterss, @simrah1012, @somethingrandomwatzit, @star-of-velaris, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whistle1whistle, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife, @y0urm0m12, @zoom1374, @asyouwish-fromcabin3, @magicandrosewaters

desperately hoping this is everyone, but as always just let me know if you want to be added/removed (or if I forgot you) and I'll do that as soon as I can! <3

[newtonsheffield]

Ooh, can we please get Newton Thoughts on him thinking he's running the whole damn farm and how did anything get done before he got there? He looks at Anthony like, "OK, Mum and I have to go to London. Please don't undo all my hard work while we're gone."

Oh my god, imagine

Here’s some Newton thoughts™️

Newton sighed as he looked over at Katie’s mate, shaking his head. Anthony was a very nice man, he really was. Newton had been curious about him since Katie had lain on their old bed with him and sighed,

“Okay, it’s silly because he lives really far away but I really like him, Buddy.”

Newton had no idea who he was but he was a curious, so he nudged her with his nose to go on.

“I… really want to meet him in person but he hasn’t asked me and… you know what, I’m going to do it. I’m going to pretend I have a reason to go to Kent and I’ll ask him to meet me and we’ll just… rip off the bandaid.”

Newton nestled against her neck in support.

He was feeling a little less supportive when he was unceremoniously dumped at Eddie and Goosey’s. With only his travel bed to sleep on, and a handful of toys. He’d tried giving Katie the cold shoulder when she came to pick him up on Sunday night, smelling completely unlike herself. He sniffed delicately at her as she bundled him into the car and huffed as he smelled the masculine scent clinging to her.

So the meeting with her new mate had gone well. Interesting.

“Newton, he was so sweet!” Kate said on the way home, “I had the best time with him. I think me and Anthony could really be something. And! Get excited, little guy, we’re going to the country next weekend and you’ll get to run around the farm with the sheep. That’ll be fun.”

Newton huffed, trying not to sound too interested in case Katie got the idea that he’d be moving to a farm of all places.

But as the week had worn on Katie had sounded so happy every time Anthony had called her and truly: by the time Friday came around he’d been desperate to see this Anthony. Curious about what had gotten Katie so enamoured with him.

He’d sat in his car seat and watched the grass roll by, a little mournful that he wouldn’t be able to chase his favourite squirrel tomorrow morning. But he supposed if this Anthony had a farm, as he’d been promised, there might be one there. From the second they arrived Newton felt excitement building in his chest as Kate let him out, the grass soft under his paws, the air filled with so many smells.

A man stepped forward, waving to Kate a little nervously, “Kate, Hi! You made it!”

“Hey, Babe.” Kate wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him close and Newton averted his eyes.

“This must be Newton.”

Yes, Newton huffed as Anthony crouched in front of him, scratching behind his ears. Thank you for finally greeting me. Took you long enough.

Anthony smelled nice though, Newton was a little dismayed to notice, and his hands were warm but Newton had gotten immediately distracted by the two pups who had run up behind him. They smelled close to Anthony, but they weren’t his puppies, Newton didn’t think as he licked the girl’s face, giddy at her delighted laughter. He liked the pups. They gave him treats and let them sleep on their beds but even better than the pups were the sheep.

Newton loved that. He loved running around after them and he realised with a sigh that Anthony needed his help if he was going to get this place in order. He seemed absolutely bloody determined to undo Newton’s hard work as quickly as possible. He kept moving the sheep to ridiculous spots around the yard no matter how many times Newton called out to him.

Anthony! No! No! The other way!

And normally, Newton wouldn’t mind doing the most work out of everyone. He was used to being the backbone of the family. But today him and Katie were going back to London for a few days. And he just knew when he got back Anthony would have undone everything.

Newton sighed as he walked up to Anthony, placing his paw on Anthony’s boot.

I know this is hard for you, buddy. But you need to just try and keep things running without me.

“Oh, bud.” Anthony chuckled, “Are you going to miss me?”

Honestly, I’m worried about you. I don’t know how this was a successful venture before I got here. Newton sighed, Just leave the sheep alone, please. I’ll tend to them when I get back.

[lilac-hecox]

idk what specifically but something with damangela and forehead kisses? 🥹 i've seen damien mention a few times that nothing gets him more fluttery than that and would love to see it with that pairing!! thank you so much 🥹

Damien/Angela - Forehead Kisses - Damangela

--

By the time Damien is deemed ‘non-contagious’ Angela is about to lose her mind with how much she misses him. Sure, they FaceTime and Angela gives him the rundown on the happenings at her latest StarKid show and what’s been going on at the Smosh office, while he tells her how bored he is, but it isn’t the same as seeing him in person. 

Damien and Angela are already both extremely busy people. Damien is only slowing down because he’s got covid and sort of has no choice but to stop. He still streams, which Angela watches, and affectionately texts him during because she can’t believe he’s streaming while sick but at the same time expects no less from him. 

The time they get to actually hang out is already limited by their demanding schedules so Damien having covid only makes everything feel worse. She is near feral with excitement when he texts her and tells her the doctors gave him an ‘all clear’ to have visitors. 

When she arrives she brings a card she had passed around at Smosh for everyone to sign along with a few recorded messages that make Damien smile and laugh, a soft and touched expression on his face as he reads over the card. 

“God, I’ve missed you,” he says to her, drawing her into a hug, his arms winding around her back. 

“I missed you too,” she says into the warmth of his shoulder. 

He pulls back and he looks a little tired as he’s not in perfect health yet. She reaches out and cups his cheek where his beard is darker and thicker than it’s been since she’s known him. 

“Scratchy,” she says. 

“I’m going to shave it down soon when I have the energy,” Damien says with a laugh. 

“I don’t hate it,” Angela is quick to say. 

“I know, but I don’t love it.” 

Damien sits on the couch, tugging a blanket across his lap. Angela wants to sit by him but a part of her is nervous to catch covid from him. She remembers all too well how Anthony passing covid on to Ian almost put the company in a tizzy. 

“Are you hungry?” Angela asks instead. 

Damien shakes his head. “No, my appetite is pretty shot.” 

“I did make you some pasta,” she says. 

“So sweet of you. Homemade pasta from my little cannoli.” he throws on a cheesy Italian accent. Angela breaks into giggles. 

“Stop, oh my God.” 

She tucks the tin-foiled covered pain into his fridge so he can hopefully eat later when he finally feels hungry. He leans his head back on the couch and he’s looking at her with a soft smile. 

Angela smiles back at him and then walks over towards him. Instead of going to the front of the couch, she goes to the back and leans over so her face is over his, her hair tickling his cheeks and nose. 

Damien lets out a laugh and then Angela leans down and presses a kiss to his forehead. 

Damien hums happily, his eyes sliding shut at her affection. 

In some ways, he reminds her of his cats, and she knows exactly what he likes at this point. 

“God, I missed you.” 

“You said that already,” she teases, her face going pink, “not that I’m tired of hearing it.” 

“I mean it,” Damien says, “I found myself missing all the little things. Like, the smell of your hair from your shampoo, and Spork sleeping on my lap when we’re watching a movie, the way you sing to yourself when you cook. Even your snoring.” 

“Wow, you must really have missed me if you miss my snoring.” 

“Can’t wait to be lulled to sleep by the chainsaw like sound of your snoring, Ange.” 

She playfully punches his arm and he laughs, pressing a kiss to her cheek and then her jaw, before seeking out her mouth. 

The angle is kind of weird because she’s leaning over the couch and she’s really risking it by kissing him but she can’t wait one more second to feel his mouth pressed to her own, warm, his facial hair scratching pleasantly at his skin. 

Angela gives in because what the hell. She’s already kissed him. She makes a show out of rolling over the back of the couch until she flops down next to Damien.

“So, you’ll be back to the office soon?” she asks, her head on his shoulder. 

“Next couple weeks or so,” Damien says. 

Angela stretches and settles herself more firmly against Damien. 

“Good, I can’t wait.”

[bellebridgerton]

His Diamond: Chapter 1 (Anthony Bridgerton x plus size!fem!reader)

✨Masterlist✨

The sunlight seeped through the perfectly white, sheer curtains. Y/n groaned and rolled over in the bed in one of the many guest rooms of the Bridgerton estate. She spent the night after a long, exciting and gorgeous ball that the Bridgerton's hosted. They had the pleasure of hosting the opening ball of the courting season of 1814.

The night before, Y/n had the coveted pleasure of being named the Diamond of the season. Eloise had quickly teased her, Y/n wasn't surprised at all, and Penelope had a look on her face that told Y/n that she'd be reading about it in the morning.

Y/n knew about Penelope being Lady Whistledown, and she felt privileged that Penelope trusted her to keep the secret.

She had stumbled across drafts while in Penelope's bedroom. They had a long talk about it, Penelope warned Y/n that she couldn't give Y/n special treatment, as to avoid being found out. Y/n understood, Whistledown must remain impartial.

Reluctantly, Y/n rose from the bed, she changed back into the gown she arrived in the night before. She decided to leave her hair down, she knew she couldn't recreate the hairstyle by herself.

The home was quiet, Y/n assumed she must be the first one awake. She quite enjoyed moments like this, where it felt as though she could be the only person in the world, there was a certain peace to it.

Y/n thought she might leave a note for Violet and slip out quietly, she didn't want to impose any longer for the time being. She collided with Hyacinth. "Oh, good morning, Y/n!," Hyacinth chirped.

Y/n smiled softly, "Good morning, Hyacinth. You're up early."

Hyacinth grinned, she gently grabbed Y/n's hand, "Are you staying for breakfast?"

With a loving squeeze of the little girl's hand, Y/n knew she couldn't say no to Hyacinth, "Of course, I'll stay."

Hyacinth grinned and placed a kiss on Y/n's cheek, before skipping off.

Y/n strolled down the hallway and descended the main staircase, finding herself in front of Anthony's study. The door was slightly ajar, prompting Y/n to knock on the door of Anthony's study, She heard shifting and a soft groan, Anthony spoke, "Come in."

Y/n entered the study to the sight of Anthony waking up, doing her best to stifle a giggle in her throat. He heard her giggle despite her attempt to hide it, "Good morning, Y/n. What's so amusing?"

Moving around the desk, Y/n approached Anthony and lightly wiped some smudged ink from Anthony's cheekbone and nose with her handkerchief, "You fell asleep while working again, didn't you?"

Anthony avoided meeting Y/n's gaze, embarrassed with the state of his appearance. He grumbled, "Yes, after the ball I had some work to attend to. I trust you slept well."

Y/n nodded, continuing her gentle ministrations on his face, " I did, thank you. As your friend, I must say I'm surprised you're finally serious about finding your viscountess."

He carefully encompassed her hand with his, halting her care of his ink stained skin. Anthony gently took the handkerchief from her, attempting to clean his face on his own, "It is my duty, Y/n. My duty to my family comes before all else, and that means I must find a wife. A woman with a pleasing face, an acceptable wit, and genteel manner. She need not win my heart, that is not what this family needs." He stood up and straightened out his clothes, "Congratulations by the way, on being named the Diamond of the season. You do make a lovely diamond."

If Y/n didn't know any better, she would have thought Anthony was flirting. Blushing, she smiled, "Thank you, it is an honor, especially since it's my first season." Y/n looked up at Anthony, "We should go to the dining room, Hyacinth said she wants me to stay for breakfast, if that's alright with you."

Anthony nodded and gave her a sincere smile, "You know you're always welcome here, bunny." He used a nickname he and his siblings had given her when they were all children. Y/n had caught a bunny in the backyard of Aubrey Hall, and she was heartbroken when it hopped away a few hours later.

Pressing a soft kiss to Anthony's cheek, Y/n left the study for the dining room.

As Anthony watched her gliding form disappear down the hallway, he decided then and there, he would have his diamond.

✨Next Chapter✨

[cupcakefoggy]

Ok, this drives me nuts.

I love Bridgerton. And I don't love all things Regency, so before you write me off as a romance-loving Austenite (which is ALSO a perfectly valid thing to be, thankyouverymuch) just hear me out on why this take is so damn annoying.

Ok. Cool. Now, you're entitled to your opinion that Bridgerton is too fluffy, too girly, and needs more "texture" (which, according to the article, should come in the form of labor, hardship, threatened financial ruin, the usual good stuff) but I want to impress upon you, firmly but politely, that if you're in the market for something gritty, you probably should turn off Bridgerton.

She compares Bridgerton to every prominent period show in this article, and consistently complains that it doesn't measure up. "Well it's not Downton Abbey!" No, no it isn't, and that's what we like about it. We aren't watching it to Learn Something. We're watching it because, for an hour or three at a time, it's really nice to forget that there's so much awful crap going on in the world, and just focus in on Penelope's up-and-down courtship with Colin or how damn cute Kate and Anthony are together.

But that isn't even the thing that bothers me the most about this article.

Why, in the year of our lord 2024, are we still perpetuating this "fluffy girly things are BRAIN CANDY" nonsense? Has Jane Austen truly taught us nothing? At the age of 12, back in the early aughts, my dad gave me a hard time for reading the Sweet Valley Twins books. He wanted me to read Pride and Prejudice, and aggressively shoved it under my nose until I finally agreed to take a look at it. I found it incomprehensible, looked it up online, and found to my immense pleasure that Jane Austen's literature was considered "popular" and "feminine" in its day -- not at all serious literature. I took my findings to my dad, who just about exploded and told me "that's not the point, it's a classic NOW, so shut up and read it."

Guys, I don't care if it was written in the 1600s or last week, pop culture is pop culture. It reflects its time. And more importantly, it shapes its time.

In the 1990s, Seinfeld aired the now-famous episode wherein the boys and Julia Louis-Dreyfus' character, Elaine, have a contest to see how long they can all go without masturbating. One of the men is out before the contest begins; of the remaining contestants, Elaine cracks first. This is now considered a bold statement, because in the 90s, women actually ENJOYING orgasms was taboo -- a concept they make sure to acknowledge within the episode itself, as the men insist women don't masturbate.

Julia Louis-Dreyfus later said of her time on Seinfeld, "We weren't trying to change the world, we were just trying to make something really funny. And that's really hard to do. And if you can do it, you CAN change the world a little bit."

Now, I don't watch Seinfeld. I hate it. I tried to watch a bit of it for Julia, bc I loved her so much in New Adventures of Old Christine, but I just couldn't get into it. but I saw the episode she's talking about, and it IS funny. Because they aren't up on a soapbox, they're just having fun, and she's a damn good comedic actress. So why am I bringing up Seinfeld in a conversation about Bridgerton? Because they're both fluff. No one is watching Seinfeld in an effort to solve the mysteries of the human condition or reflect on the nature of good and evil. It's just for fun. And so is Bridgerton.

And even if there was absolutely no value to Bridgerton besides being fun, it would still be "okay" to watch it. Because sometimes we just need fluff. But I don't think we really spend enough time thinking about just how much impact that "fluff" has on our culture.

I've seen people argue that Bridgerton DOES tackle occasional "serious" topics, and that's why it has value. I disagree. Bridgerton's value comes from the fact that it is FUN. It's easy to get into, it's easy to watch, no one is FORCING it on you, like my dad tried to do with P&P. And because it's fun, people -- YOUNG people -- are willingly watching it…

And they're seeing elderly women, women of color, and plus-size women being depicted as beautiful and desirable.

They're seeing a young, newly-married woman force herself on her husband and realizing that women also need to be taught about consent, and that a lack of sex education leads to damaged relationships.

They're seeing depictions of mental illness in the Queen Charlotte spinoff. They're seeing a man with a mental illness bare his soul to a woman he loves, and hearing her say, in no uncertain terms, that as damaged as he thinks he is, she loves him too. Unconditionally.

They're seeing queer representation in the Queen Charlotte spinoff, too. They're seeing racism and politics and medical abuse. They're seeing storylines that they'd never seek out on their own, and intentionally or not, they're learning from those stories.

Maybe it's optimistic to a fault, but I just can't stop wondering, how many young girls talked to each other about Daphne and Simon? How many plus-size women saw Penelope and Colin's sex scene and felt beautiful, felt seen, for the first time? How many people with mental illness saw Charlotte love King George and realized that they too are worthy of love? How many people heard Violet shyly tell Agatha that she misses having sex with her husband, and felt validated that, no, you don't turn 40 and stop being horny?

I sobbed my eyes out watching S3 the other night, because they captured the feeling of being unpopular and overweight so damn well. I saw my high school years reflected in Penelope's story and it broke my heart and gave me hope all at the same time. I love that they dress Violet and Agatha and Charlotte as richly as they do the younger, "hotter" leads. I love that Anthony Bridgerton goes down on Kate every fucking chance he gets. I love Bridgerton's message, however unintentional, that you don't have to be the classic Pretty Skinny Caucasian Starlet - you can be fat, old, BIPOC, disabled, outcast, anything, and still deserve and GET your happily-ever-after.

Shondaland is not trying to change the world. They're just trying to be fluffy and horny. And if they can do it, they can change the world just a little bit.

[eleanor-bradstreet]

Young at Heart: The Princess (Benedict Bridgerton x Reader)

Benedict Bridgerton x fem!Reader Rated: G, the fluffiest fluff that ever fluffed Word count: 3.1k

Masterpost

Summary: The Colin monsters attack and you seek an answer from Benedict.

Author's Note: So many folks to thank for this finale chapter. Firstly, to @angels17324 who again had the idea for the adorable interaction with the children. Sweet Benedict being duped by innocent shenanigans is gold! Also to @mysticwitchcraftco for proposing we see the inevitable conversation with Colin after the last chapter. I liked this idea so much I went back and wrote it in! Lastly, to @broooookiecrisp who also championed the Colin convo and helped me craft the ending scene. This chapter was much shorter and weaker without each of you, and I hope you enjoy! 💙

Benedict rushed down the hall, nervous energy coursing through him. All he could see were your lips, soft and parted with bated breath, inviting him in. He still felt the warm thrum of your pulse under his fingertips where he held your wrist, the tingling brush of your noses…

His mind whirred, passion and reason each attempting to roar over one another, a situation he was well familiar with, though it had never been this intense before. He tugged at his cravat, then startled when a voice broke through his thoughts.

“Have your theatrics tired you, brother?”

He whipped around to see Colin, grinning like the cat that ate the canary, sidling up to him. 

“What?” His voice was flustered. “No, I am fine.”

Folding his arms, Colin leaned a shoulder against the wall, smirking. Benedict sometimes thought he had imbued too much of himself into his younger brother. Colin should have spent more time around Anthony’s disciplinarian nature and been molded into a dutiful little lieutenant, not a scamp. Then he would have been easier to deceive. 

“You and Miss y/l/n make quite the pair.”

“What do you mean by that?” Benedict had regained his composure.

Colin shrugged. “Acting partners. You are very convincing at…playing your roles.”

The raised eyebrow said it all. He suspected.

“She is a kind and talented young woman.” Benedict’s voice was low in warning, urging his brother to change course with his questioning.

Colin dismissed his tone entirely. “With whom you are spending an inordinate amount of time.” When his pointed stare didn’t elicit anything further, he gave up the ruse. “Oh, come now Benedict, you’re not as good an actor as you think you are. The heart on your sleeve is bleeding all over the place.”

Benedict deflated. His feelings for you were enough to wrangle with on their own. He didn’t need his family’s opinions on the matter to be mixed in. “The last thing I need is your admonishment…”

Colin looked around innocently. “Who is admonishing anything? I’m not Anthony.” They both sniggered at that. “Did you kiss her then? You may have been out of sight but I heard you breathing all over each other.”

Benedict rolled his eyes. Romantic inquiries from his naive little brother. Who would have thought he would ever see the day? But he knew he was not being judged, and it was an undeniable relief to have someone to confide in. “We would have, but she jumped away to tend to the children.” He hung his head, chewing on his lip. “This is complicated.”

“More or less complicated than the kitchen girl you helped me rendezvous with?” 

Now it was Benedict’s turn to smirk, remembering how he had stood watch while his teenage brother crept down the servant’s stairs to meet with the doe-eyed cook’s apprentice in the dead of night. He had told Colin how not to be a fool in their encounter, and figured that anything else they got up to was good experience for him. This felt different though, deeper somehow, but he wouldn’t reveal that.

“It’s time I returned the favor.” Colin walked over to him and rested a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll keep your secrets. Do you know if she shares your feelings?”

Benedict sighed. “I think so, but I’m not certain. Perhaps I overwhelmed her.”

“You?” Colin balked. “Unable to restrain your passion? It beggars the imagination!”

The dripping mockery was enough. “Oh, what a wonderful help you are.” Benedict shrugged him off with a grimace and began storming down the hall again.

“Brother, stop!” Colin called after him. “I’m sorry. You’re right.” When his brother turned again, the exasperated expression he wore was one rarely seen. It made him drop all his taunting. He pitied the poor man. “You don’t want to go scaring her off the property. She’s very lovely and much needed here. Take some time apart and see if she approaches you.”

Benedict paused, mulling over his words, then finally nodded. “Alright. Thank you.” Brow arched warily he asked, “Is this foolish?”

It was odd to find himself in the position of giving advice to his older brother, particularly in matters of the heart, but Colin felt determined to help him. He instinctively knew the answer to his question. 

“To follow your heart’s desire? Usually.” He shrugged. “But that’s never stopped you before.”

As a wide smile broke out over Benedict’s face, Colin knew that he would be alright. He clapped him on the back and urged him down the hall. “Now, let’s find something to eat.”

—

It was clear that something significant had occurred between you because Benedict avoided you for the next two days. He had been so impossible to miss ever since he arrived, that his pointed absence now was tangible. You didn’t know what to expect. You didn’t think you had done anything inappropriate. You felt certain it was him who had been violating the bounds of propriety with you. But women in your position had been sacked for less, and so you hovered in a nervous limbo, waiting to encounter him in a hall, or waiting for the Viscountess to unceremoniously request your resignation. Thankfully, you had the children to keep yourself occupied, and your hands were entirely full when a day of pouring rain kept you all cooped inside the nursery.

The boys had tired of their figurines and their paints, and they groaned at the offer of another storybook. Augie and Neddy were sporting the stern brows of their fathers, and Barney was entirely despondent. Only Caroline seemed to be enjoying herself, as she pulled up to stand against the rails of her crib and giggled at everyone. When you asked what they would all prefer to do instead, Augie spoke first.

“I want biscuits.”

You sighed, prepared to remind him that they must wait for their tea to have biscuits, but before you could respond, Barney staggered toward you with outstretched arms and wriggling fingers.

“Rawr!” He crowed, “I am the Colin monster. Give me biscuits!”

The cleverness of this little one, and the memory of the annoyance on real Colin’s face made you grin.

“Yes!” Neddy chimed in, mimicking his smaller cousin and adopting a squeaky growl, “I am a Colin monster too! You must give me biscuits!” No doubt they thought this was the method to secure some treats. If you could play along and keep them occupied for a while longer, you would reach teatime and everyone would be satisfied. 

“Oh no!” You brought your hands to your face in mock horror. “Not the Colin monsters! You cannot have my biscuits, I haven’t baked any today!” Then the three boys tore across the room toward you, snorting and roaring, hands grasping for your skirts as you scurried in circles around the nursery, always keeping two steps ahead of them. This was something you so adored about children, how they made you one of their own and reminded you how to lose yourself in simple fun. You all chuckled breathlessly as you ran, and Caroline watched with glee, ratcheting up and down on her nubby legs and cheering on the spectacle. When you had rounded the last piece of protective furniture and found yourself in a corner, you sank to your knees, hands clasped before you.

“Please have mercy Colin monsters! I swear I have no biscuits for you!”

“Then we shall have to eat you!” Neddy declared, and launched himself into your midsection. You fell backward, holding him to save him from the fall, and found yourself laughing helplessly as he and then Barney clambered on top of you, poking with their tiny fingers and baring their entirely-not-frightening teeth.

“Help! Help!” You called with faux despair, barely able to catch your breath from mirth. The three of you were so giddy, shrieking as they pinned you down and tickled you relentlessly, that you did not see Augie run out of the room nor hear the footsteps that came pounding down the hall minutes later. 

You were crying out in feigned agony as Barney pretended to chew on your fingers when over his shoulder you saw Benedict come skidding through the doorway, white as a sheet.

“Miss y/l/n?!” He was panting, entirely disheveled, in just a shirt and braces with his sleeves rolled up, forearms streaked with paint.

“Mr. Bridgerton?” You froze, staring at him as the tiny monsters continued to crawl over you.

He strode across the room and you could see the panic in his eyes. “Are you alright? Boys, what’s going on?”

Gently but firmly, he pulled each of them off of you and stood them upright.

Neddy turned to growl at his uncle, waggling his fingers in Benedict’s face. “I am the Colin monster and I have no biscuits so I’m going to eat Miss y/l/n!”

Immediately Barney whined, “No, I am the Colin monster!” Then the two of them began to argue with one another, stomping away to settle the dispute.

Benedict knelt beside you as you propped up on your elbows. For a moment you felt embarrassed at him finding you in such a position, but the genuine concern in his eyes melted away your self-consciousness. He scanned you over as if expecting to find some injury and you could see clearly that he was shaken.

“Augie came running and begging for help. He said you needed me. I thought…”

“We needed the prince to rescue the princess!” Augie suddenly appeared next to Benedict, smiling proudly and explaining his actions as if they were the most obvious thing in the world.

Benedict looked between you both, piecing together the innocent cause behind his terrified dash. You were worried that this would increase his aggravation with you. You still could not decipher what he was thinking since your flustered encounter in the theater and the last thing you wanted was to cause him unnecessary distress. But your anxieties started to ebb when he finally allowed himself to exhale and a small grin tugged at the corner of his lips. “I see.”

Then he reached out and took your hand, pulling you carefully to your feet. “Are you sure you’re alright?” His eyes carried an undeniable warmth and his voice was soft, the question meant for your ears alone, a honeyed tone that ran thick across your skin. You couldn’t help but sense that he was asking something greater. Asking how you felt about more than just being besieged by the children.

“Yes.” You returned a grateful smile. “I was only being attacked by the two miniature Colin monsters, as you can see. But I am quite well, thank you.”

He grinned that ruinous crooked grin and straightened his spine. “Good. I’m glad your anguished screams were only caused by these two.” Then he marched over to Neddy and Barney who had started to shove each other and were both wearing pouts that were so similar to Benedict’s, you had to hide a snicker. He placed an expansive hand on each of their heads, pushing them lightly apart and commanding their attention. “All right, all right Colin monsters. I have decided that I am not going to slay you, but instead, feed you some biscuits to satisfy your hunger. How does that sound?”

Both boys looked up at him and broke out into joyous smiles and cheers. You walked over to corral them all for tea, when Augie piped up over the celebration.

“Yay! And now you must kiss!” He stared up at you and Benedict with eager, sparkling eyes.

“Yes!” Chirped Barney beside him. “Kiss. That’s how the story ends.”

You felt yourself blush as your mind reeled, bewildered that the boys would say this, frightened to look at Benedict beside you, and equally aggravated that he had improvised the kiss into the story in the first place. But you felt the weight of his stare on your cheek and turned. His eyes, usually so piercing and light, had grown dark with something intense. He seemed to be holding his breath right along with you, looking at you for direction. He couldn’t possibly be considering…This couldn’t be happening again…

You stuttered, unable to complete a thought as your heart trilled in your throat. “Mr. Bridgerton, I…”

Benedict finally broke his gaze, releasing you from the spell, and turned to the children with his wry smile returning. “No, boys,” he said assertively. “Kissing is only for the puppets and grown ups who are very much in love.”

Something ran straight through you when he said that and you swore his eyes flicked over to you. You had to move, you had to free yourself from this quagmire. You turned and went to Caroline, lifting her out of her crib as she happily nestled against you.

“My mama and papa kiss all the time.” Augie announced matter-of-factly.

“Mine too.” Neddy groaned then shook his head in disgust as he stuck out his tongue. Barney followed suit, mimicking his distaste. 

You laughed, grateful that the humor of the little ones could rise to break the tension between the stares of the adults.

Benedict patted Neddy on the shoulder. “Well, that is because they are in love as I said. Come on now,” He swung Barney into his arms and clasped the boy across his back as before. “Biscuits await!” 

Then he turned and shot you a knowing smile before mustering all the lads and leading them out of the nursery.

—

You spent the remainder of the day breathless, smiling politely as you guided the children through teatime. Fortunately, their mothers and an assortment of Bridgertons were present too, which helped to distract you from overtly staring at Benedict across the room. It was evident he wasn’t cross with you and seemed to still want your acquaintance. But were you overestimating his level of affection? Had too many stories of dashing princes and fairytale romance burrowed themselves into your mind, inextricably blending fantasy into your reality as if you were a besotted girl? His intentions certainly seemed clear in the theater box and again when the children told you to kiss. Could it be that your wildest imaginings weren’t imagined at all? 

Your unanswered questions mired you in thought. You carried out the motions of herding the children but your mind was always with Benedict. You saw to their dinner, their baths and their nightly farewells to their parents. You could hardly finish their bedtime story, you were so distracted. The swirling sensations in your heart and mind were sure to drive you mad, and were strong enough that they propelled you to Benedict’s door. It was the guest bedroom he treated as a studio and candlelight could be seen within. 

Your desperation lended you an edge of uncharacteristic courage. Your last moment alone together had been interrupted by an audience. If you could be alone again, you wanted to know what would occur. Your fluttering stomach proffered an idea but you fought it down. Most likely Benedict would do nothing more than speak to you, carrying on in that friendly, flirtatious manner as he always had. Then you would have your answer. He was not enamored as you were, it was simply his natural character. If, however, you were wrong, it would be better than any of the fairy stories you had read in all your years as a nursemaid.

Hand shaking, you knocked on the door. He answered it, shirt unbuttoned rather too low for polite company and hair tousled, clearly hard at work.

His eyes lit, as they always did when he saw you. “Miss y/l/n! Is everything alright?’

“Yes, all is well.” Your voice was small, the sound struggling to escape around your pounding heart. “I only wanted to speak with you.”

“What about? Is another bedtime story in order? Do you need a dragon slayed?” He leaned against the doorframe with the grin that had come to visit you in dreams. You could only smile at his cheek, then he waved you over the threshold. “Come in.”

You wanted to take time to admire the canvases propped on easels throughout the room, to ask him what he was working on and where his inspiration came from, what his favorite colors were, how he had honed such skill. You wanted to know everything about him. But your nerves were overcoming you, a heated jittery energy rising through your body from your toes to your shoulders.

“Mr. Bridgerton…” your voice quavered, wondering where on earth to begin.

He closed the door and walked to you. “Please, call me Benedict.” His voice dropped into that low register, smooth and inescapable. His words were an invitation, not simply to use his name. How he could do this, flip a switch and magnetize you toward him with a single glance, a single syllable, was beyond your comprehension but you were utterly powerless against it. 

“That would be most improper.” There was no conviction in your words, just stuttering breath.

He stepped even closer, lips parted so that you could see the candlelight shining off the bottom one. You couldn’t tear your eyes from it. “Do you want to enforce propriety between us?”

He was offering you the choice, the final say in how you wanted to proceed. But your mind had been made up before you even entered the room. Every drop of your blood was humming, pulling you inexorably forward just as it had in the theater, just as it always did whenever he was close enough that you felt the warmth of his breath on your skin. 

“No.”

A smile ghosted across his face, something like relief. The last barrier of uncertainty having fallen away, he took your hands softly into his own. “What do you want? I’ll give you anything.”

Before you could stop yourself, you surged up onto your toes and pressed your lips to his, needing to know their softness, their taste, needing to finally seize what had been tempting you for so long. He staggered slightly, his hands falling to your waist, but his mouth remained still as you pulled back, searching his eyes. For a fleeting moment, you feared you had done something wrong, had somehow misinterpreted his offer. 

Then you saw the glittering joy in his gaze and felt the chuckles rising out of his chest under your palms. He smiled, beaming as a hand rose to trail across your cheek and into your hair. 

“What a surprise,” he breathed, “I want the same thing.” 

Then he enveloped you, lips crashing back against yours as he pulled you flush to his body. A deep and proper kiss, and it was every bit the fairytale you dreamed it would be. 

Fin.

Tagging: @angels17324 @bridgertontess @broooookiecrisp @desert-fern @fiction-is-life @kpopstanthot @mysticwitchcraftco @unholyhuntress @defnotashifter

[itsmepage]

Rose

Anthony J. Crowley x Fem! Vampire! Reader || Hey guys, sincere apologies for anybody who enjoy The Snake and The Bat series but I felt like it was too dark then way I intended it to go. I also wanted x reader and ineffable husbands separate because neither them are the type of people to except a love triangle and Crowley deserves all the proper romance in the world, so I created this instand. Again apologies. I hope this makes up for it. Enjoy lesbians <3

PART 1

Summary: Your long time demon friend, Crowley allows you to feed from him when you see each other again after the events of Armageddon

Touch of Dark Romance & Spice

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, kissing, moaning, licking, touching, teasing, vampire referring to as people food/victims, temptations being mentioned, mention of feeding from a squirrel, expression of hunger for blood, mention of Armageddon & murder

_✍︎︎

You and Crowley met in a pub during couple years back. It was a red moon during a settle night in central London. You’ve walked in to visit a small crowd, which made it easier for you to spot a victim. A center gentlemen catches your attention.

Up to this point, most of your feeding was from woman, mainly due to ’personal’ preference. Soft skin, elegant voices, and sweet, sweet blood. However there was something about the red-head that drew you towards the creature. He had looks, no doubt about it- even you could see that. His bangs were curled that slicked back smoothly to his scalp, like a wave or a snake. His skin was blending in with the lighting in the atmosphere: bown and black painted walls, darkness outside the windows and low lights inside the building that almost made his skin glow. His black clothing was like the icing on the cake, showing off his waist, one that women would be jealous of. He hid his eyes through shades and if you look just right: you would see yellow eyes creeping in the lenses. He was like a painting you had to admit, made you stare longer than you probably should have. But his looks were not the only reason you were staring. There was something about red hair in dark glasses and clothing that pulled you in time, as if you were walking with the same person who been living for centuries. The strong smell also help that assumption.

Your suspicions were confirmed correct, when you sat down and approached him. You’ve attempting to pulled the mysterious man in your bait not realizing your pray was a predator, a big one at that. “If you want food little fang, there’s a lady sitting right there who’s begging to taken..“ he joke in the moment when the two of were we light flirting. Pointing to a young woman who was alone looking around the room, nervous, bouncing her leg. You quenched your nose in slight disgust, she wasn’t your type; your expression changed, turning back to the red-head taking a sip of his own drink. He knew you a Vampire. When you asked him how, he confessed: “I’m a demon, I know things.“ Piece by piece everything began to click. It started in 1880s when you first were transformed. You were at ball where thousands of gorgeous woman were present in ravishing dark clothing as they Waltz with their partners. A single lady caught your eye, she was beautiful, and she could be perfectly described as the demon sitting right next to you. Hair up and waved in bun a her long luscious grown complemented her figure. It’s no wonder you recognized her beauty. “I’m surprised, we haven’t run into each other until now.” You laughed, only really meaning finally having a conversation after being acquaintances for centuries.

The two became good friends ever since, calling whenever a favor is needed like help with a temptation rather it was for the demon’s or the vampire benefit, mainly the vampire, or calling just to talk or hang out. Making you fond of the red-head you’ve met.

Now, Crowley was on your couch drinking the wine you’ve gave him. She crashed into your apartment just couple days after Armageddon. Crowley was telling you everything that was happening leading up to that point since they were so busy, it wasn’t like he could call to catch you up on the latest news. “They tried to kill you?“ you asked her, worry showing in their eyes and voice. “Ehh..“ Crowley shook his head, “‘tried’ was the key-word Rose, both of us just got something humans call: ‘a good-old slap on the wrist.’” Crowley snickered, taking an another sip of her drink, you smiled at the nickname Crowley gave you over the years. ’Rose’ is what the demon called you, referring to his love plants and gluing it to your style and form of nature. despite being practically your name to her, the poetic charm still made you blush.

“By the way-“ Crowley called out to you, placing her drink on the coffee table in front of him. “I thought you said you ate.“ Crowley said leaning back on the couch, leaving you confused. You opened your mouth to say something but, “I could tell Rose.” Crowley said like a stern mother. “I did.“ you told honestly, crossing your legs on the chair that stood right next to your couch. Crowley hunched her shoulders. “A squirrel is not gonna do you any good.“ Crowley called you out. “I’m aware of that, and I’ll manage.“ You laughed defending yourself. “I simply didn’t have enough time to find and lure food, but- pardon me if this sounds shabby, but… I did really miss your company.. so...“ You admitted, looking at the demon’s tilted head, questioning like he was a dog. You stood up from your chair, taking a seat on the couch sitting right next to her. “I didn’t want to be late seeing you again.“ You blushed shly. Crowley nodded, picking up her drink. “Well.. I’m flattered.“ he said smiling pouring the rest of the liquid into their mouth, before placing back on the low-cut table. “I’ve.. missed you too.“ Crowley admitted taking off her glasses to reveal himself to you.

Silence in the room followed right after that, strange comfortable silence that seemed to disguise awkwardness to a gentle, romantic hue. It was probably due to the smell of Crowley. he wrenched of sweet alcohol too, like cherry wine. You felt something siring in your stomach, making hard tell if was hunger or if it was just Crowley. Your eyes turned to her hand that rested on their thigh, the vains that were visible admittedly made your mouth drool. Without a word, you gently took his hand, the Demon giving you permission to do so in silence. You traced the alignments of the vains on her soft skin, tickling your own and pulling yourself into the demon’s haze. “May I ask why your’re doing this?“ Crowley asked calmly, her eyes analyzing your face and your actions. “You’re such a beautiful creature, darling..“ You spit out turning his hand to view their plam as your nails scraped gently across the skin. “Can’t help but take a closer look..” you finished, continuing to tickle him before they unexpectedly pray her hand out of your grasp caressing your jaw, pulling you in for a kiss. You melted into Crowley’s soft touch; humming in their lips and breathing in her Intoxicating smell. The kiss was gentle but desperate as Crowley teased your lips intentionally keeping the barrier between yours and their mouth. Eventually, he pulled away, her enchanting yellow eyes staring into your own. “You’re doing a poor job managing your hunger, Rose.“ they practically whispered.

His thumb moving left to right on your lower cheek. You now found it hard to control your breathing, falling in to deep into her spell. “Was it on purpose?”Crowley whispered again, “huh?” was all you could say, their soft touch and alluring smell turned your brain into mush, the taste of his lips rest on the tip of you tongue; all your strength was occupied not to pounce on them. “Was it. On. purpose?” Crowley repeated the question and only then you understood what she was asking you. “No.. No, it wasn’t on purpose..” Crowley was asking you if the meal you skipped was done on purpose: so you’ll had an opportunity to feast on your friend’s blood. Wait. Why would they ask that? Crowley tilted his head at your answer and gave you a look in a way that you couldn’t tell if she believed you or not; either way, she took it as an answer. They gently pulled his hand way from your jaw, his fingers tip tickling your skin making you sigh in disappointment, but you look down to see Crowley removed the tie around his neck, unbuttoning more of her undershirt to leave more skin expored to you. Your breath hitched as smell lingered stronger. But you collect yourself for a second, even with the deep growing tension. “Wait, Crowley, you don’t have to-“ you try to protest but they stopped you, interrupting your speech. “I want to.“ he said. Knowing you’ll rather starve to death than allow Crowley to give in to you, well, if she didn’t want to give into you. She slivered their hand to the back of head moving his fingers in your hair, pulling you in, inches away from her face. Oh, god, you wanted too. You wanted too ever since you meet her. First out of curiosity, now, out of craving. All because of bittersweet smell she had that was so incredibly intoxicating to you. “I know you’ve been wanting to feed from me.” he said. You felt your heart jump, as your eyebrows narrowed. Crowley chuckle at your reaction. “Did you think you can fool me, Rose? I can smell it.” So that’s why he asked you that question.. “Your hunger, your desire, your lust..“ she hissed out the last word, kissing your neck, tempting you. You whimpered. “Please, don’t worry Rose, You won’t hurt me, I don’t think you can.“ Crowley played with the back of your scalp to comfort you. Reading your thoughts before pulling you in another kiss to help encourage the predatorial urge.

Her hand moved to your cheek as his tongue finally crept into your mouth making you moan at the subtle action. The desperation kick around this kiss. Your lips were plush and tired when he you pulled away from you. The whole time, you were instinctively touching the veins of their neck, memorizing it’s pattens. The demon moved her hand back of your neck, pulling you close as he began to lay down on the couch, taking you with them. “Take as much as you like..“ Crowley whispered, making shivers go down your spine. “..and feel free to take your time with me.“ That sentence alone made you feral. You pressed your lips onto her cold skin. Kissing and licking a particular spot that got the snake to slither his hands around you. Gripping your hair and moving her fingers on your waist their sharp breathing being like music to your ears. It made you smile on her neck.