#never seen the L word i dont care

[femmesandhoney]

The dark media focusing on women that you mentioned still falls into the bury your gays trope, especially with killing eve. We as lesbians deserve better than constant negativity. The L word original, even is filled with cheating. What shows and movies have you seen that don’t have any of this, to the point where you feel like it’s over flooding with positivity and no dark media? Almost all of the media aimed at us is already so dark, open your fucking eyes?

[theoccultz]

How will your future spouse pursue you ?

Ok you guys the series is finally here

All of my pacs are queer friendly

It can be anyone, your s/o or your longterm connection

Pics and dividers not mine , credits to their rightful owners

Apologies for any mistakes

Let me know which pile you picked and don't be afraid to express your thoughts (:

Pile l . Pile ll. Pile lll.

🫀 Pile l.

For this series if you have any topic suggestion let me know I'll include it

>>> | Queen of swords , 4of wands , 5 of cups |

This person is gonna be competitive for your attention , they dont fall in love easily and when they do its ride or die , they are your typical bad boy stereotype that you see in the movies , they are someone who knows they are the best in the room this person's self esteem & self concept is amazing, their confidence speak for itself, they are someone who has seen a lot of things in life and their way of getting to you is very simple and straightforward, maybe in the past people weren't as actively pursuing you as you would love them too but this person is not like this , they are on your face they know they want you and they're gonna be sincere & upfront about it , this person is generally very quiet and people have a lot of ridiculous assumptions about them like they're a player etc etc but best believe me they're really not what others think of him , this person is hot asf , you could be a very stubborn person who takes decision carefully about their life and this will stress them out n,ot in a way to deceit anyone but they know they have to prove everyone wrong so that you see them truly for who they are awww:(

Anyways this person is very masculine in nature , they are gonna act as a mentor and a caregiver, you want this ? I got it , you need this ? Its on me ....and you're like wtf i can do that myself but its just their way to make you feel special , this person does not do that for everyone if they are doing 50% for you then they are gonna do 20% for their friends its like they value your connection a lot and they don't want you to feel like you're just like everyone else in their life , this person is gonna defend you in every situation be it with their family or friends they dont give a shit , this person is also very keen on you they notice everything about you , how you care for people what you like to wear so their another hobby will be gift giving they are very thoughtful and they'd love to make you smile . The four of wands with the five of cups rx is very much i don't want to see them sad , i don't want them to doubt our connection, i want to put efforts for them , i want to do SO much that this person never feel less about themselves, i feel like being with this person , one of the best things about them ...that you're gonna like is they are deadly whatever they do its 100% efforts they dont like to tease their partner even in a slightest way because they know words can stick with a person forever so they're very mindful ,people can envy this the most about you guys its like no one can say anything bad abt my partner if you're gonna be passive then i might play this game as well , they could have a scorpio mercury or virgo so whatever they say is gonna hurt the other person because scorpions and virgos are known for their details , they study people very deeply , whatever they say hold meaning.

This person is definately that cold hearted girl/ guy or you are because i'm picking up on this black cat energy from you and cats do not chose their owners instantly neither do they love everyone. I Also picked up on a very rockstar appearance like long hairs , leather jacket, ripped jeans , its so cool , they remind me of early 2000's era

How will they pursue you : competitively , your friends post you every week ?? ...i'm gonna post you everyday its that kind of person lol , the back of the deck I usually take that as an overall energy is ace of pentacle which is a very stable and set energy in its own so whatever they do , they do it to achieve victory , to be recognised, to show you that they are the shit (;

Channelled song :

Thank you for reading!!

🫀Pile ll .

For this series if you have any topic suggestion let me know I'll include it

| 10 of cups , strength, four of swords |

Ok so this is our cool guy /girl lmao

Even though they will be putting in efforts to pursue you , you shouldn't know that they are doing that , i feel like they will be pursuing you from the get go like this person on a random monday evening will just accept i have feelings for this person and i want them , now this person will try to make it seem like its all a coincidence, this could be a leo mercury or gemini they try to entertain people with their words but their words hold honesty which people cant always catch so they will try to make you feel comfortable like you should feel happy in their presence and it will satisfy them and they will replay this in their mind at night like oh this person laughed at my joke they touched me i made them happy and it brings a smile on their face , they might say or do things which will make you laugh take a scenario like OH ...and you're like what happened and this person is like deja vu darling i think we belong together the universe knows and its so cheesy but its also so cute , they like to break this barrier between you guys , this person will be friendly towards you , they will flirt with you , they're also very spontaneous and a little bit tricky they love to play with you , lets say you guys have a dinner plan and you're excited you're dressed up you have already reached the venue but they will purposefully show up late and when you text them they're like WHAT...? We had plans ? but they are just joking they are alrdy at the venue waiting for you to see them , they might even joke with you like oh i have 5 kids to feed ofcourse i'm late & its a very playfully banter , you play along like YOU match their freak ... its ridiculous you wanna be mad at them but you can't but i understand your feelings pile 2 and i validate 🙂‍↔️✋🏽

I really think this person is gonna steal your parents love like 😭✋🏽they are the favourite child now , this person has a tendency to play cool like they dont wanna give in first..... they want you to give in first its kind of a cute ego idk , let's take a scenario they say "love you " and you're like where's my " I LOVE YOU " and they're like yes "I LOVE YOU TOO" so petty 😭 they have this natural ability to piss you off , this is the type of person when someone would ask you guys ..."so who confessed first ??...they're gonna jump in like ofcourse it was them , they were crazy about me like you dont know i had to give in but its not true its the opposite. So as you can already guess their ass ? Dramatic ...but you cant say they are dramatic because they are gonna be MORE dramatic about it .

How will they pursue you ? With fear because i feel like they will mask their desire to make you theirs with humour you could start off as friends or colleagues so they cant be very open about their feelings because they feel like you are not focused on love and you might reject them so it's their little cute tactics to get to your heart yeah but they are gonna be very anxious about it they could even suffer from inferiority complex.

Channelled song:

Thank you for reading!!

🫀Pile lll.

For this series if you have any topic suggestion let me know I'll include it

• 3ofcoins, wheel of fortune rx , seven of swords rx •

This person will absolutely be focused on providing comfort to you whether it be emotional or sexual , they love to do things with you they love to hang out with you , they creatively express themselves, they are someone who's gonna listen to your rants they are gonna embrace every flaw & every good thing about you , you are gonna feel exposed in their presence there's something about this person knowing you more than you know them , they really love to spend time with you , i'm seeing this person pushing you towards better goals like your life is gonna improve being with them ,this person will be very happy for your success, they are gonna put you on pedestal they think you are more lovable than them and you deserve more than them and i can confidently say they'll always love you more than you love them its very sweet but also sad , they have insecurities yet they are here trying to soothe your heart, they are gonna apologise first its like they dont wanna lose you they know how to keep a connection you wouldn't need to worry this is a connection where you can let yourself just be you aint gonna walk on eggshells, they are mature , i feel like this person cannot express themselves through words so they prefer to write to you , take you to places with them , praise you infornt of others , make you something, i feel like this persons love is comforting and sweet , you are their equal and they want you to feel like that.

This person will definately engage more in your life , they are gonna be supportive towards you like a best friend, they will overgive to you , they can even say stuff like ...." as long as i'm here i'm gonna be there for you ".....they will hold your hand while you walk they will listen to your problems, they will embrace your silly nature , take you out , spend time with you " i'm getting this line you came and the other one is like you called " it went viral on tiktok i think its from a movie but yeah the energy is very much sweet

Oh you guys this is so sweet , you guys dont speak the same language? They're gonna learn for you we have that kind of person here , you know when they are in love they get hearty eyes it shows on their face and in their behaviour, those sneaky eye contacts , those blush when you are mentioned, the sincerity in their words ,its all there .

How they're gonna pursue you ? Its very passionate and being Passionate does not mean always having hots for each other and that is exactly how they will make you feel , you feel this wholeness i'm having a hard time describing it...its so divine...you know just so grateful and lucky to have a connection like this in this day n age , Yeah 😭this is sooooooo damnnn cuteee i'm scared of this person's energy its very intense , i mean your partner is into worshipping & if you like this then this is definitely your pile (:

Channelled song:

Thanks for reading!!

[2knightt]

Hiiii! Can you do the outsiders gang with an s/o who models I feel like that would be interesting :)

↳but i’m into it, i’m into it.₊˚✧

➬ the gang x model!fem!reader

a/n;i love famous reader so much omfg. also, i love using chase atlantic lyrics for my titles. dont chase men, chase atlantic everyone.

Johnny Cade ;

believes that you are the most BEAUTIFUL person to walk the planet.

STRONGLY BELIEVES THAT.

probably thinks you’re too good for him.

PLEASE TELL HIM HE’S ENOUGH FOR YOU.

take him too your shoots and he will be blushing the whole time.

if you wear something that’s flattering to your body shape, he will explode right then and there.

“how do i look? should i fix my hair?”

“you look perfect.”

“you think?”

“…mhm.”

the gang seen you on a magazine cover and started freaking the fuck out.

“HOLY SHIT JOHNNY ISN’T THAT YOUR GIRLFRIEND?”

“WOAHHH!”

“jesus…does she have a sister?”

“guys please stop.”

cuts out your magazine covers/photo shoot pictures and keeps them in his jean jacket pocket.

not in a weird way, just in a way that when he’s sad and you aren’t around he can remind himself on how lucky he can really be.

Dallas Winston ;

oh my god he never shuts up about how he got the hottest model ever.

“yeah she’s pretty n all but, my girlfriends a model so.”

“that’s so cool that your chick is…like that! but mines a model, so, she’s just better.”

buys steals all your magazines/any photo shoot you do.

any guy thats talks about you in way dallas doesn’t like, gets knocked out.

“i’d hit that.”

“yeah?”

“yea—”

dead./j

no but he would pull all his strength in that punch.

the gang thought he kidnapped you because no way in hell a pretty girl like you would go after dallas winston.

“y/n, blink twice if you’re kidnapped.”

“raise your hand if you need help, dude.”

“guys, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

you’re legit, all he thinks about.

he’s so whipped for a model girlfriend, if you asked him to jump he’d ask how high.

genuinely believes you’re an angel, will NOT tell you that to your face though.

Ponyboy Curtis ;

he gets so nervous around you omfg.

his palms be sweating n shit, stuttering and everything.

“he-hey y/n.”

“oh, hey pony!”

uses his favourite photo shoot of yours as a book mark. i can feel it in me bones.

he giggles and kicks his feet when he looks at that bookmark btw

draws you?? i feel like that’s his favourite pass time.

IF HE HAS TO DESCRIBE A STORY IN ENGLISH HE WRITES ABOUT HOW HE MET YOU OMFG AND THE WAY HE’D DESCRIBE YOU IN THE ESSAY??/?!:;&

he’d be so sweet with his words when he talks about you. i cant i love him so much

the gang is lowkey jealous that the youngest one out of all of them pulled a model.

“hey, don’t you model?”

“yeah!”

“what.”

“how did ponyboy get a date with you?”

“…are you guys serious? am i that ugly to you guys?”

Sodapop Curtis ;

POWER COUPLE OH MY GOD I CAN’T.

you guys walking in the street together probably makes people pass out.

literally nobody was shocked that you guys started dating.

the prettiest girl for the prettiest boy, it was bound to happen, c’mon.

he probably got into modeling because of you.

OH MY GOD IMAGINE DOING A PHOTO SHOOT WITH HIM???

he asks for his favourite picture of you two from that shoot to be printed out larger for him so he can hang it in his room.

like dallas, he will punch a guy for you.

“she’s hot.”

“she has a boyfriend.”

“so?”

call 911 cause that guys gonna need it in a minute!

showed steve a picture of you before he introduced you to the gang.

“oh my god soda. why are you dating a literal model?”

“why not?”

“but what else did i expect, you get girls daily.”

Darry Curtis ;

honestly, he couldn’t care less about what you do for work.

if it brings in money, it brings in money.

but the gang sure as hell does!

“YO ISN’T THAT Y/N L/N?!”

“THE MODEL?”

“yeah? how do you guys know her?”

“HOW DO YOU KNOW HER?”

“she’s my girlfriend, soda. that’s why i brought her here.”

“WHAT??”

i’d be lying if i said darry didn’t carry around a head shot of you in his wallet.

he doesn’t brag, but when the chance to talk about you comes, he takes the chance.

“good for her. huh? oh—my girlfriend models. pretty popular.”

when he sees a magazine with you in it for sale, darry snatches it so fast.

compliments you after he seen it.

“i like your most recent shoot, the makeup suits you.”

“you think, darry?”

Steve Randle ;

rocked the whole world when you guys started dating.

DOESN’T SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT YOU.

“that’s so tuff soda, but y/n actually said—”

“nobody cares steve.”

“shut up and let me tell you what MY GIRLFRIEND said.”

STEVE HAS A PICTURE OF YOU TAPPED ON THE INSIDE OF THE TOP OF HIS TOOL BOX.

takes you on dates 24/7 just to show you off.

sometimes he lets go of your hand to see if anyone would flirt with you so he can punch them.

gang thought he held you hostage when you started dating ngl.

“you can do so much better, y/n.”

“dallas, shut the fuck up.”

“i’m just sayin’.”

“i will knock you out.”

Two-bit Matthews ;

HE’S SO WHIPPED FOR YOU IT’S DISGUSTING.

you have him giggling n shit.

his room is filled to the brim with photos of you.

not in a weird way, he just thinks you’re drop dead gorgeous.

tells you cheesy pickup lines, all the time.

“are you from Tennessee? cause you’re the only TEN I SEE! get it?”

would start a fan club for you if you asked nice enough.

introducing you to the gang was earth shattering for them.

“how??”

“what do you mean, ‘how?’”

“how did you pull her?”

“I PULLED HER WITH MY GOOD LOOKS AND CHARM, STEVE.”

“you’re so funny, two-bit.”

“like you falling flat on your fucking face yesterday?”

“YOU SAID YOU WOULDN’T TALK ABOUT THAT.”

may 24th, 2023. 11:30PM.

tag-list ;

@diorgirl444, @typereader 🧍‍♂️

[biblomaniac]

Kara’s jealous of Lena’s relationship with James. What happens when she learns what’s really been going on?

——————————

Kara regrets ever telling Lena to date James. At the time, she thought it would be bad of her as a friend to not support Lena, but dear Rao, she hates seeing them together.

It’s been months of them dating. Lena doesn’t share a lot about their relationship to Kara, or to anyone for that matter. They seem happy, or at least comfortable with one another, but something about seeing them together irks at the Kryptonian.

And to be honest, it’s more than just Kara having feelings for Lena. At first, Kara thought jealousy skewed her perception; that she was looking for issues where there were none. She’s come to terms with the fact that she’ll always love Lena, that Lena will never care for her back, but she cannot let go of the nagging thought that something was wrong about Lena dating James.

When Kara first met Lena, James was one of the staunchest opposers to their budding friendship. Even a year later when Lena purchased CatCo, James was more than weary of not only her last name, but her presence in general.

Then, all of the sudden, James is attracted to Lena? Wanting to date her as if he had not vehemently rejected even the very idea of her, minimized her individuality, labeling her as just another Luthor.

It makes no sense. Illogical in every form of the word, but Kara bit her tongue, trying to be the best friend she could to both parties.

It isn’t until Lena starts pulling away from Kara that she actually begins to watch how James and Lena interact.

At CatCo, it’s very professional. They don’t spend extended amounts of time alone and Lena certainly doesn’t play favorites. One of Lena’s main concerns before they started dating was the fact that she is James’s boss, so this makes sense.

I assume it’s the same at L-Corp. I mean, I’ve never seen or heard James there apart from when he was supposed to look in Lena’s vault.

Speaking of the vault, damn did Kara screw that situation up. She should’ve just trusted that Lena didn’t have any more kryptonite. She should’ve trusted her reason for why she had kryptonite. The PTSD from previous exposure has certainly clouded her mind a bit. She knew Lena had never wanted to hurt her and yet, she let her emotions lead her. Sending Guardian to essentially break in was her most reckless act of jealousy to date. It drove a bigger wedge between Supergirl and the youngest Luthor that Kara fears they’ll never recover from.

It’s right after this debacle that Lena begins to cancel movie nights and lunches out with Kara. It’s gradual at first. Kara knows the CEO is much too busy to make it to every one of their plans, and on more than one occasion, Kara herself has had to call for a rain check. But when the rescheduled dates turn into cancellations and rejections, Kara does start to take it personally.

It has to be me, right? She still comes to game nights and out to drink once in a while, but it’s like she doesn’t leave James’s side.

The blonde sees an opening one evening while the brunette is refilling glasses in the kitchen. While the others are busy arguing over what game to play next, Kara slips into the kitchen, leaning against the counter next to Lena.

Kara isn’t quite sure how to start the conversation. She stands there for a moment picking at her fingers before blurting out a rushed, “Are you okay?”

The brunette pauses in her reach for another bottle of beer. It’s the only indication in her body language that Lena has heard her.

“I’m fine,” she says plainly, resuming her task.

“Are…are we okay?” Kara asks next.

“What do you mean? Of course we’re okay,” she replies dismissively.

“I dont, I mean… did I do something to offend you?”

Lena must see something she doesn’t like in Kara’s pleading eyes. Her shoulders loosen and she breathes out a soft sigh.

“I haven’t meant to be distant. It’s just…James made some comments about me not spending enough time with him. I’ve been trying to make it up, but in the process I’ve hurt you. I’m sorry, Kara. Truly.”

Lena sounds apologetic and Kara can’t really fault her. She’s been in that position before with Mon-el; wanting to please a partner can sometimes make maintaining other relationships difficult for a time.

“It’s okay; I understand. Don’t worry about it,” Kara assured her, laying a hand on Lena’s arm for a moment before helping her carry the drinks back to the living room.

I should just be patient. It’s only been a few months; everything will go back to normal soon.

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

It’s been two more months, and somehow Kara feels the situation has gotten worse. Lena has just become plain dodgy. She hardly accepts Kara’s calls, answers texts vaguely, and on the rare occasion she sees her in person, it’s only been with James wrapped around her.

Kara tries to mind her business, knowing it can be intrusive to listen in on people’s private conversations. Yet, she doesn’t need super hearing or x-ray visions to see how tense her friends always seem.

James puts on the cool guy exterior; calm, collected, confident. But Kara can pick up micro expressions even the most trained specialists couldn’t decipher. The looks were usually in relation to Lena. Whether it be her jobs, businesses, opinions, or her family, James always seemed to be irked by her.

Kara hated it.

She hated every second of seeing them together. It reminds her of the start of her friendship with Lena; James vehemently opposed to Kara befriending the young Luthor.

Every time the thought crossed her mind, she feels her heart beat increasing and a minimal tinge of heat vision creeping behind her eyes. Many glasses have been the victim of her temper lately. More than once, she’s had to excuse herself from group settings to cool down.

Alex thinks it’s just Kara being overprotective, that she’s reading too much into it and being too sensitive. But Kara knows in her heart that James and Lena aren’t right for one another. She doesn’t want to overstep by inquiring about it with Lena (that’s if she would even give me the time of day to talk), so she watches as the love of her life slowly fades from her reach into the arms of another, praying to Rao Lena will return to her one day.

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

Though it has been several weeks and the Children of Liberty have gone underground for now, Kara is still reeling from her near-death experience on Shelly Island. She felt such undeniable rage at James for getting them both in that situation. She may have accepted his apology, but her trust in him is broken indubitably.

The moment James dawned the mantle of Guardian, Kara knew it would never work out. It was clear he felt inferior, that he needed the adrenal rush of danger to feel like he was making a difference.

This is exactly why I didn’t want humans acting as vigilantes.

Kara tries to keep her “god complex”, as Lena so eloquently said, in check. It’s not her place to police humans, but dear Rao, has is been more of a hassle to have another vigilante in the mix.

Not only has he been more of a hindrance in the field, now that he’s making headlines by revealing his identity and essentially co-signing the Children of Liberty, he’ll never be fully safe. If not for Lena, he would’ve been charged and arrested.

He hasn’t even thought about his friends and family. About Lena. It would be more than easy for the public to associate his alliance with the Children of Liberty and their anti-alien rhetoric with the Luthors. Hadn’t Lex put her through enough? Hadn’t he seen how his actions could be a trigger for Lena?

It’s incredibly hard for Kara to remain impartial. To keep her thoughts to herself as everyone else goes on about their lives while hers remains stagnant.

Now that she has a better handle of her duties as a reporter and a hero, she is able to better manage her time when she gets to be just Kara. With her group of friends being pulled in so many directions, and without Lena to spend a lot of one on one time with, she’s beginning to pick up hobbies she once had to set aside in favor of being Supergirl.

Kara busies herself painting at human speed. It’s a calming ritual that helps her to unwind after especially hard days as a hero, or trying days as a reporter.

She focuses on the color theory of her work, deciding which shade of maroon best complements the beryl eyes of her muse. Just as she goes to mix the next set of colors on a clean palette, there is a knock at the door.

I wonder who that could be.

Kara rises from the stool by the window, turning her easel to face the wall before crossing the room to open the door.

The sight that greets her is unexpected. Lena stands in front of her, tears streaming down her red face. Her nose is running, cheeks blotchy, and hair loose. Kara’s never seen her quite so distraught.

“Hey, what’s wrong?!” Kara asks worriedly. Lena only sobs in response, raising a hand to cover her mouth as if surprised by her own response.

Kara ushers her inside, trying to think of a reason for why Lena could be crying so profusely. Closing the door behind her, Kara reaches toward Lena to comfort her. Just as her hand makes contact with Lena’s arm, the brunette jerks away violently holding her arm across her chest. Her eyes are crazed, open wide and bloodshot.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

Kara doesn’t know what to do. She’s never had to help someone so hysterical. “Lena, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

“N—no. I’m sorry,” she cries backing away until she hits the wall.

Kara takes two steps back. She hold her hands out in front of her, trying not to come off as a threat.

“Breathe, Lena,” she instructs. “You have to calm down.”

Lena tries to slow her breathing, but she can’t catch her breath. All she can hear is the yelling, the snide remarks about her name, feel the press of the wall against her back and hands tight on her arms.

“Lena. Lena! Look at me, baby, can I come closer?” Kara just wants to wrap the brunette in her arms, but she knows from experience that too much too fast can be detrimental in moments like this.

She waits for Lena to answer, to give just one sign of acknowledgment to Kara’s request. All she receives is a jolted nod of acceptance before the brunette is slipping onto the floor. Kara walks closer slowly, approaching her friend like a scared animal. When she is just two feet from the brunette, she drops to her knees.

“Lee, can I touch you?”

She whimpers, face twisted in fear.

What in Rao’s name happened to her?

“Look, match my breathing.” The reporter begins a round of exaggerated breaths, trying to get Lena to breathe in and out with her. It works marginally; Lena finds the rhythm but the breaths are too shaky to be providing any real comfort.

Kara inches closer on her knees, “Good, you’re doing so well, baby. Here, put your hand on my chest. That’s it; good girl.” Her voice is low and soothing, words infused with a calm she herself doesn’t even feel right now.

Lena reaches out with a trembling hand to rest her palm against the hero’s chest. Kara notes that the arm she reached for earlier is still clutched tightly to the CEO’s chest, as if protecting an injury. Kara covers the hand against her chest with her own. She holds it there lightly to showcase the cadence of her own breathing. Her thumb rubs soothing circles against the soft skin of Lena’s hand.

They sit there, cramped on the floor of Kara’s loft for quite some time. When Lena finally catches her breath, her hand tightens on the collar of Kara’s sweater, using the hold to pull herself into Kara’s chest.

The blonde opens her arms for the crying woman, allowing her to crawl into her lap. The shorter woman tucks her head into Kara’s neck, legs pressed tightly to her own chest. She crowds herself into Kara small, small, small, as if she alone could block out the horrors of the world.

“Lee—“

The brunette shakes her head, apparently not ready to speak. Her sobs have hushed to a silent stream of tears falling down her cheeks, but the blonde can still hear the erratic beat of her heart. Kara wraps her arms around the smaller woman, holding her close but not tight enough to constrict.

“I’m gonna stand, okay? Just going to the couch. It’s more comfortable.”

Kara positions Lena better so that she can stand. The hold is awkward with Lena balled up as she is, but it’s no real trouble for the girl of steel. Lena holds tighter, seemingly ready for the short travel to the couch. Kara lowers herself slowly, rather than plopping as she usually does. The reporter sits there, murmuring quiet assurances to Lena. Before long, she feels the body in her arms going limp. Checking her heart, the hero finds it steady, the lub-dub much calmer than when she first arrived.

Kara doesn’t dare to move, wanting to allow Lena the chance to rest after her ordeal. Many scenarios cross Kara’s mind. There isn’t much that truly shakes Lena. When the brunette whimpers, Kara starts to card her fingers through dark locks. She immediately calms under Kara’s gentle caress.

She sleeps for a while longer. Kara continues her ministrations even once Lena rouses. The hero hears her breathing change, but she doesn’t speak until Lena does.

“I’m sorry,” she says into Kara’s chest. Her voice in muffled against the soft material of Kara’s paint-spattered sweater.

“What for?”

“Coming here. I didn’t mean to disrupt your evening, especially after I neglected your text to hang out.”

“Lena, I don’t care about that. You are always welcome here,” Kara assures.

Lena doesn’t reply. She just lays in the safety of her best friend’s arms. Kara allows her a moments peace before addressing the obvious elephant in the room.

Her voice remains calm and even, “Lena, tell me what’s wrong.”

Silence.

“Did something happen today?”

Silence again.

“Lena. You have to work with me here. I know something is wrong. I want to help you, but you have to let me in,” the reporter admonishes lightly, “I want to help you, in any way you need. You just have to let me in.”

A shaky exhale escapes the scientist before she removes her head from Kara’s chest. Her eyes never meet the blondes, but she can absolutely feel her pointed stare as she rolls up the sleeve of her left arm.

The purpling bruises painting her alabaster skin look worse in the hours following their placement. They trail up her arm in ribbons of finger prints. Kara is silent, but Lena feels her body tense into the hardness of a rock.

The brunette glances up at the tanned face of her friend. The first thing she notices is the absence of Kara’s trademark glasses. From her position, she can’t see the entirety of her face, but the hard set of the reporters jaw indicates a great deal of anger. Blue eyes remain focused on Lena’s arm, her free hand moving to trace one mark carefully.

“Who did this?”

The infliction of her voice, it’s so…familiar. It doesn’t sound like the soft upbeat tone the bubbly blonde usually has. The timbre is husky, a low gruff that has the potential scare Lena if it was directed at her.

“Lena. Tell me who did this,” Kara repeats, turning her head so that stormy blue meet glassy green.

Features she’s memorized over the last three years look off. There is something about Kara in this moment that clashes with the image in her mind. Lena doesn’t answer her; only continues to search Kara’s face for the inconsistencies her mind is fighting to recognize.

Kara is growing impatient, she wants to make whoever did this to her beloved pay. She moves her hand to Lena’s jaw, pulling her closer ever so gently. Only inches remain between the two.

“Tell me who hurt you, please,” she whisperers. It’s so soft compared to her tone just a moment ago. A gentle breeze following the tempest of her earlier pleas.

Mismatched eyes flutter closed, silent tears leaking slowly. The broken explanation she delivers is hushed, voice cracking and devolving into choked whimpers every so often.

“He got so upset; angry. I told him it wasn’t right. That he was endangering so many with this facade. He didn’t care; accosted me for not siding with him. I went to leave and he grabbed me. It startled me. All I could see was Lex’s angry face spitting in mine as he raved about aliens and their inferiority, Lillian slapping me for misbehaving, Lionel…”

Kara can’t bear to hear the rest. She places her forehead on Lena’s, pulling the brunette back into the safety of her own body. The urge she has to protect Lena calls to a violent part of herself that she hadn’t experienced since being poisoned with Red Kryptonite all those years ago.

“Shhh. I got you. I’ll fix it. Tell me who did this and I’ll make sure it never happens again.”

The whimpering CEO spits out the answer as if it burned her tongue with its utterance, “J—James.”

Son of a bitch.

He’s finally crossed the line.

There are a lot of things Kara isn’t proud of. Not making it to Earth to raise Kal-el, hiding her alien-ness, failing to observe the all the Kryptonian rites and holidays she’s missed over the last 14 years on Earth. In this moment, she regrets two things more than all the others combined: hiding her identity to Lena, and not putting a stop to this relationship sooner.

“Rao, I’m so sorry—“

Lena feels like her heart has stopped. Her emerald eyes shoot open to stare directly into icy blue. There was only one other time, one other person, who she heard that desperate mention from. This can’t be happening. What the fuck have I gotten myself into.

“S-supergirl?” She stutters, mouth falling open minutely. The pieces connect like a puzzle, fitting in seamlessly with countless memories and quotes: how she could effortlessly carry Lena across the room, the voice, all the excuses to leave lunch early, even “I flew here…on a bus.”

She tries to untangle herself from the hero, but Kara’s strength holds her pretty much in place. “God, I’m an idiot. You… you lied to me! Was this all fake; part of a plan? Did you know this would happen?!” Lena is crying in earnest, voice pitched high and a tremble of fear underneath the thin veil of anger.

“No! I would never do that; you know me, Lena—“

“No I don’t!” She protests, but they fall on deaf ears. She continues her struggle against the impenetrable blonde, becoming erratic at the feeling of being trapped, “Let me go! Let me go!”

Kara gently deposits the woman on the couch. She kneels before her, hands on the couch bracketing both sides of her thighs. “Okay, okay. Please, just listen to me. I was going to tell you. But I got scared. You were already so distant because of James; I didn’t want you be leave me. I’m sorry I lied. I thought I was protecting you.”

Lena immediately protests the statement, “How could you be protecting me? I was already in danger; I have been since the moment I met the Luthors.”

“It feels like every time someone else finds out, everyone who knows becomes open to more danger. I don’t want that. Especially for you.”

Tears still fall, but their flow turns from raging rapids into steady streams. “Why are you saying this? You told me you wouldn’t trust a Luthor with your name.”

“I didn’t mean that—“

“Yes you did! You were angry at me, and you said it to be cruel.”

“Lee, I didn’t mean it. I swear I didn’t! I was hurt, and I lashed out. I’m sorry,” Kara says placing her hands into Lena’s knees and leaning up into her space.

“Don’t lie to me.” She whispers brokenly. The day has been too long, too hard. The earnestness in Kara’s eyes is alluring. So different from the spark of hate and loathing James’s had earlier. The fight drains out of her when the Super presses their foreheads together.

“I’ll never do it again. I’ll tell you everything: about me, about Krypton, how I got to Earth. Khap vrreiahv vo rrip, i shokh nim i.”

I promise to you, my truth is yours.

Lena’s face feels wet, but she doesn’t know if it’s her tears or Kara. “I—I can’t trust you,” she whimpers, voice choked and mouth dry.

“You don’t have to. I wouldn’t deserve it even if you did. I promised to protect you, and I failed. Just let me help you,” Kara avows, running the tip of her nose along Lena’s, around her regal cheek bones and to the shell of her ear.

“I’ll fix this,” she pledges, “You are my everything.”

You are my everything.

The brunette sinks down, holding herself to Kara with her uninsured arm as tightly as she can. “Don’t hurt me. I can’t bear it.”

Kara hugs her back, pressing kiss after kiss to Lena’s dark unruly hair, “Never again, Lena. I’ll take care of you. Khap vrreiahv.”

Always.

[nerdysleepybunny]

Heyloo! I love your posts man <333 I have a request for the full score trio. What if they had an s/o (gender neutral) who one day asks them "what would you do if I were to get adopted?". Sorry if you dont wanna do this, I get it if your busy!

Ellooooo! I’m glad you like my writing! This is a really cute idea. Thank you so much for the request, hope you enjoy!

🩷☁️N E R D Y S L E E P Y B U N N Y☁️🩷

Fandom(s): The Promised Neverland

Character(s): Normam, Ray, Emma

Reader: Gender neutral (they/you)

TW: Mention of being shipped out

Style: Short hcs

Summary: how Norman, Ray, and Emma react to their s/o asking them, “what would you do if I got adopted?”

🩷☁️N E R D Y S L E E P Y B U N N Y☁️🩷

Norman:

“What would you do if I were to get adopted?” You asked innocently whilst you and Norman were cuddling against a tree in the forest, away from all the other children who were playing in the field.

The boy completely froze. He knew that you didn’t know about the secret yet, as he convinced the others not to tell you. He knew how badly it would affect you if you knew the truth. But thinking about you experiencing the same fate made his blood run cold. But he couldn’t show signs of fear, he didn’t want you to ask questions. So he held back his tears and recollected himself, grabbing your chin with his thumb and pointer finger to direct you to look at him.

“I’d miss you dearly, and do whatever it takes to find you again. I’d never be me until I found myself by your side.” Norman responded, letting go of your chin to wrap his arms around your torso, pulling you into him.

You didn’t know what those words truly meant, but were happy with his answer, moving your arms to wrap around him and resting your head on his shoulder. It was moments like this where you felt most at peace. He held you there for a lot longer, the thought still swirling through his mind. You didn’t mind though. So the two of you stayed like that, letting the birds chirp and the small breeze flow. You both tuned out the faint sounds of the other children in the background and overrode your senses with nothing but each other, drowning in the feeling of being so close yet still trying to get closer. Yes, you absolutely adored these moments. And you knew he did too. You just didn’t understand why. Not yet, at least.

Ray:

“What would you do if I were to get adopted?” You randomly broke the silence. The two of you were sitting on the library floor, reading separate books. The silence was always comfortable with Ray, but you just felt like this question needed to be asked right this second.

You kept your eyes on your page, not seeing the way the raven haired boy’s face turned to one of complete fear, something nobody has ever seen from the boy. But his silence was starting to worry you, he was usually quick to respond to something, so you looked up at Ray with a worried expression, becoming shocked when he looked just as worried as you. You could’ve sworn he had tears in his eyes, before he squeezed them shut and shook his head, reopening his eyes with his usual cold expression. He pulled you close to him and ruffled your hair, but you took note of how he held you tighter than usual.

“…I don’t think I’d ever recover. I’d never be able to smile the same as I did when I was with you.”

Although it was a simple response, it meant the universe coming from him, the boy who rarely smiled or showed emotion, let alone caring for someone. You decided to ignore how he kept you close to him despite usually not being very fond of physical affection, just enjoying this rare moment with him. Your book had been long forgotten. You were must more focused on the sound of Ray’s heartbeat and the sound of his voice as he read his book aloud to you.

Emma:

You were panting, bent over trying to catch your breath after running around with Emma. The girl was used to running, and had caught her breath before you, so she decided to pat your back and wave her hand in front of your face to try and cool you off.

“Hey, Em..” You said between pants. She continued to give you a cold breeze, but looked softly into your eyes, a look of absolute adoration that she only gave to you. You loved it. You almost forgot to continue speaking, far too distracted staring into the eyes of your lover.

“What would you do if I were to get adopted?” You’re not sure why the thought crossed your mind, but you were now curious for an answer. Emma looked down at the ground, thinking about the scenario. She felt tears run down her cheeks as she imagined your suffering. If only you knew the truth. Before you could ask her what was wrong, she grabbed your face and peppered it with kisses, before giving you a peck on the lips and pulling away sobbing.

“I’d be broken.” You pulled the girl into your chest, kissing her head and rubbing her back as she cried into your chest. She didn’t think she’d ever be able to tell you the truth. It was too scary.

🩷☁️N E R D Y S L E E P Y B U N N Y☁️🩷

Honestly I’ve been a mix of busy and just mentally unstable, drained, exhausted, dead- Point is I’ve been feeling horrible due to some personal reasons. But I’m trying my best to come back. Though I do want to apologize for constantly saying I’m gonna get things out but then never do, I don’t have a proper excuse and you guy’s don’t deserve some shitty lie or whatever so I’m not going to say anything except that I’m sorry. I’ll try my best to do more but I can’t promise anything. My old schedule is 100% done for as I now need the weekend to recharge. I will post random updates, small fics, and other stuff every now and then but I most likely won’t be writing many actual fics or books until the summer. I wish it didn’t take me this long to heal from everything because I love you guys and writing for all of you, but I also can’t rush my healing because I want my writing to be the best it can be. I know I apologize a lot but I really do feel bad for just randomly dying on you all and never really coming back. I love you guys. 💕

[butim4you]

This is my first time ever trying to make like a fanfiction so there might be some mistakes and English isnt my first language either so be patient with me🙏

Bakugou / Kirishima x reader

_______________________________________________

Here You were.

At the Gates to U.A.

You still couldnt believe that you were here.

It was like a dream come true.

Who could think that you out of all people could get in at U.A.

Well not your ex that was sure.

You shook your head at the thought.

Why would you care about his Opinion plus he was in the past.

Though you couldnt shake the thought that he might be here to, He had been dead set on going to U.A And with a Quirk like his he had a great chance.

You felt someone tap your shoulder.

You turned around to see a green haired man that you seen many times before.

"Modoriya?" You asked.

He looked nervous and quite tense.

"The one and only" He answered with a nervous smile.

Modoriya had gone to the same middle school as you and you became good friends after you and your ex broke up.

"What are you doing here?" Quick Regret hit you after you asked.

What a stupid question.

"Probably the same reason as you"

He said honestly not seeming very nervous anymore.

The two of you talked while walking to Your first class

at U.A.

While walking you noticed you two walked the same direction.

But to be honest you didnt know were all the schools classes was placed anyways.

You saw your class and was amazed by the gaint door.

Did You have a gaint in your class?

You both stopped at the door with the words 1A on it.

"Wait Your in class 1A to?" You asked confused.

He nooded and turned back to face the door.

"Well atleast i know someone in this class" You joked.

He agreed.

You two just stood there infront of the door a while.

"Are we gonna go in?" you asked as you turned your head to him.

He looked over to you and realized you two had stood there for a while.

"O-oh yeah right sorry, lets go" he said and oppend the door.

A lot of face's was in that room, And to be honest you knew none of them... except for the spikey blonde brat that was arguing with a blue haired guy.

It seemed like Modoriya had seen him to cause his face was white.

"Kacchan.." He whispered.

after flipping of the blue haired guy he turned his head towards the door that had been oppend.

His eyes widen a bit.

Seriously Quirkless deku and The stupid blonde how the heck did they even get in he thought to himself.

Your eyes met his and you got atcually scared for a second when his eyes turned dark, a sign of hatred.

But what you didnt know was that the glare was for fucking deku who stood way to close to you.

Sure you were his ex but he never stopped loving you get just knew she couldnt get in the way for his cerear no matter how much he loved her, He had to be the best the number 1#.

Your thoughts ran wild.

Why was he here, well that was a simple question he always wanted to go here, how did he end up in the same class as you, did he haft to be in the same class as you?, could you avoid him all 3 years?, Would he mabye Talk to you again?, Will he bully me like deku?, how can i escape this situation!?

But something made your thoughts stop and that was when people had gathered around you guys to introduce themselves.

Names coming from every corner.

You seemed to get your eyes stuck on a red head.

You didnt exactly remember what he just said his name was but something like kirishima.

A hand waved infront of your face which got you to stop staring.

it was a blonde guy but with a streak of black in it which seemed to look like a lightning bolt?

You didnt really know if it was natural or dyed but who cares.

You felt weird for just staring at him so you thought it might be a good time to introduce yourself to.

"Hi Im Y/N L/N but please call me N/N" ( And if you dont have a nickname thats cool to just think that they call you Y/N okay )

"Hi Y/N" The red head said with a tiny bit of blush om his cheeks.

You gave him a small smile with a wave.

Then someone made their way towards you and pushed people aside.

He pushed all the people aside and stood infront of you.

His aura itself made you shiver.

He wasnt the same loving boyfriend that you had, No He was like he was with every single person, Cruel and mean..

modoriya grabbed your arm just in case.

He looked at modoriya and then back at you.

He grabbed your other arm pulling you outside the classroom and modoriya lost his grip on you.

Not wanting to anger The blonde male more he stayed put.

" What the fuck do you think your doing here!? "

He spat at you now being in the hallway and away from people.

" First of all, Let Go Of My Arm" You stated as you ripped your arm from his grip.

He looked at you angry.

"And secondly, The same reason Your here! To be a hero."

You said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

He scoffed.

" Im not here to be just a hero dumbass, im here to be the number 1# Hero "

You crossed your arms over your chest.

" Yeah no shit, You made that very clear when you broke up with me"

You said with confidence Not caring how angry he looked.

He mumbled something under his breath and Walked back to class leaving you in the hallway.

You let out a breath you didnt know you were holding.

after some seconds to get yourself back together you went back to class.

people still talking.

You went to sit down at a desk in the middle row.

You werent in the mood to talk now atleast not after that, Did you really think that you were that useless, So Useless that it was a surprise that you got in or so useless that he got mad?

What the fuck happened to all the late night at your place cuddled up watching a movie in your room, He would never pay any attention to the movie he just hd you while dozing of to sleep.

The movie was probably an excuse so he could hold you without being "Mushy" as he calls it.

He would tell you over and over again that he loves you and you told him you loved him back.

Your heart was torn into peices and then put in a molding machine when he told you he was breaking up with you, It hurt even more when you got to know why he did it to.

He was after fame...

You werent in his future plans..

He told you he had to focus on his cerear and that he cant have you weighing him down from becoming #1 Hero.

You were in his house because he wanted to "Talk"

That obviously didnt go so well though..

You looked at him in horror of his choice, You asked him if what you two had was nothing for him? Were you really just weighing him down?

He just looked at you with an unreadable face.

You looked at him straight in the eyes and told him and i qoute : I really did love you...

tbh that broke his heart to.

he really did love you to but he had to do this right?

it was the right thing to do!

wasnt it...?

Thinking about it hurt, You wanted to throw the desk at the wall but you didnt have the power to do so right now.

looking down at the desk, Hair hiding your face from others.

You heard footsteps closing in then a voice you remembered.

"Hey Y/n right?" you looked up to see kirishima standing infront of your desk.

"Uh yeah Hi" You said with a small blush on your face.

He looked like he was thinking before asking

"Wanna be friends?"

You were a little surprised by his question..

Friends?

Well you were more then happy just surprised that you found someone that wanted to be your friend so fast.

He looked hesitant when you didnt answer and was about to say something when you spoke.

"Of course-" You were cut of by a black haired man in a yellow sleeping bag who you got to know was your homeroom teacher.

~TIME SKIP~

You have gone to U.A about a Month.

Everyone was so nice and welcoming.

You had become friends with most of the people.

There was a girl named Mina that you of course love, Her personality was amazing and she always had Energy to do something and that made others want to do something to.

she didnt know about your past, no one knew.

she said you were her bestie and you kinda felt that bond to.

It felt nice to have a friend like her and most of the other girls were the same.

Your close'st friends were hanta sero, Mina ashido, Denki kaminari, kirishima Eijiro, mezo shoji, kayoka jiro, tokoyami/dark Shadow and Momo yayaorosu.

Mina had invited you to a group hang with a couple of friends and you were more then happy to agree.

What you knew it would be some of your classmates at denki's dorm, which you didn't mind at all tbh you loved denki's dorm you would definitely have it as a number 1 place if it wasnt for jiro's and kirishima's dorms.

Which for you was 1 & 2 spot so denki's dorm had 3rd spot.

______________________________________________

Walking down hallway with mina you finally got to denki's drom.

A couple of people were already there like sero, momo, jiro, tsu, deku and denki obviously.

You wonderd if kirishima would be here.

Mina hasnt said anything special about him

But she did know about that little thing you had for him.

Since she was your best friend after all.

You said you hello to the group and say down beside mina by the bed side.

"Dont worry, He will be here. He's just buying some snacks" Mina told you.

Probably because she saw how you were scanning the room.

You nodded and started talking about all kinds of things with the people of the group.

You and jiro has been talking about some band you wanted to see together.

It had became really popular this year and jiros

Dad had been given 3 free tickets after he drove the lead singer home after his car broke down once.

You didnt exactly remember the name of the band but jiro often plays their songs and its a pretty good band to be honest.

Mina doesnt really like that kind of music she's more for a "softer" kind, atleast thats what she says.

"Ey kiri my man you got the soda i asked for?"

Kaminari asked.

Then a voice you didnt think you would hear here out of all places.

"Shut up dunce face, and heres your god damn soda" bakugou grunted and threw the soda at him.

"Got it!" He responded.

You met bakugous dark crimson pierced äeyes, you had

yet not gotten used to the hatred they carried towards you.

"Be careful to open that kaminari! Its been shaked." Modoriya said trying to get kaminari to put the soda down with the help of Momo.

Bakugou just sat down on the chair on the other side of the room where he could be far away from you.

Minute's pass and mina got a great idea or it was a great idea to her.

"Lets play truth or dare!" She exclaimss

Everyone looks her direction.

"No way!" Bakugou answers.

Now the eyes are on him instead.

"Oh come on! Try and have some fun for once bro." Kirishima try's to convince him, but you knew kirishima would playing so you were a 100% going to.

Though you knew how mina could get when it was about truth or dare...it was scary how dark she would go sometimes.

Everyone sat in a Circle on the ground..well except for bakugou he remained his spot on the chair.

You were stated between tsu and Momo and across from kirishima.

Mina sat between tsu and sero, then there was

Denki and bakugou on the chair and then jiro and deku sat beside Momo.

"So Whos first?" Mina said excitement in her voice.

You looked around as a voice was heard, it was modoriya.

" Uhm i can start " modoriya said queitly.

"Okay!" Truth or dare!" Mina cheered.

Modoriya looked nervous while thinking wisely.

"Truth?" He stated with a raised eyebrow.

Mina Thought for a second with her fingers om her chin.

It was like a light bold popped up over her head when she got an idea.

She turned back to modoriya with a grin.

"is it true that you like ochaco?" She asked clearly already knowing the answer.

His nervous look was taken over by a shocked one.

"Hah!? Where did you hear that!?" He asked while his nervousness was slowly returning.

"Oh come on mina, what a bad question its obvious that he does" Denki stated with his head leaning towards Minas way and a smile.

And now the poor boy was shocked again.

"Is it that obvious?" He asked quietly his head tilting donwards.

"It Is, sorry man" Sero answers him.

"I dont think she has a clue Though" You try to

Cheer him up.

"Soo moving on" Mina said.

she turned to look at the person next to modoriya.

"Momo Your turn!" Mina said.

Part 2???

[bisexualgiftedburnout]

UN-POPULAR OPINION I THINK: I DONT LIKE WEDNESDAY, not the day, the show on netflix, ANYWAYS HERE IS MY RANT.

The internet is amazing, no one cares about my opinion and yet here it is.

Anyways..

Ok, so on paper it seems really good, and I love Jenna Ortega in it, she played it wonderfully and the latina representation was gorgeous, they nailed her character 100%. But the amount of missed opportunities on that dam show I swear. First of all and probably the most annoying TEENAGERS DONT TALK OR ACT LIKE THAT TF. l

Like I'm around that age and the amount of weird outfits and random coffee shop things and all that was so fucking annoying like a classic case of adults not knowing how to write teens. Also they never fucking went to class. Not once. I get that the plot was about the mystery, but they could have at least used it as a setting once or twice. Or implied there was homework, like, more than once. They went to plant school that one time but THAT WAS IT. As someone who is aggressively overwhelmed by homeowkr that I'm paralyzed by it this was widely inaccurate. And the use of the words "normie" and "outcast" was so fucking annoying. Like please stop.

Also, I feel like the plot could have been a little deeper, if they had just been more explicit about people they were representing. I've heard fan theories about how the whole thing was a metaphor for people on the autism spectrum, and I actually really liked that idea, I'm not nerodivergent, I don't think, but Wednesday seems like she would fit this well, especially with the plot line of her neglecting friends because she was extremly focused on her SPECIAL PROJECT TM. but they did zero with that. She spoke very briefly about how the pilgrams had stolen land, that was great, but that could have been taken further. When laurel said that thing about how nevermore was on "stolen" land I thought Wednesday was going to pull out books and maps and shit but NOTHING. Also, yes, I know, including a couple of black characters in the background was a ton of project for Tim Burton but come on, they could have gotten better roles/plotlines (one dead, one a dangerous bigot, one with a dysfucntional family who got the spotlight for one episode), there could have been more minorities in the cast, THEY COULD HAVE USED THEIR EXISTENCE TO TELL MORE STORIES. Wasted potential. And the one that bothers me most. WEDNESDAY ADAMS IS THE MOST QUEER CODED CHARACTER I HAVE EVER SEEN. SHES AND OUTCAST HER ONLY REAL CONNECTION WAS WITH HER FUCKING ROOMATE . THEY COULD HAVE KISSED, COME ON MAN. Wednesday was an "outcast", literally every gay kid ever. Come on. I'm too tired to lay out the arguments, but that bitch ain't straight, infact I'm pretty sure she's not even bi, girl's a lesbian. Doesn't want to turn into her parents who's whole thing is that they are madly hetero for each other that's a dead fucking giveaway. And enid's whole plot line where they actually name dropped conversion therapy was weird. And then she became a werewolf anyways? Like what was that plotline? No I'll never change for you, my disrespectful mother who wants me to be different. But I changed by myself to be that exact thing so it's fine now. Like let's be real, this was supposed to mean something, some writer thought this was meant to be like a thing about uniqueness or something, but even then what was this????

But you know what, the main plot was decent, I actually got invested, love Wednesday, and even though they hired adults to play children at least they didn't sexualize them.

[my-mummy-dust]

All mine. (Rossi x reader)

Summary: a news anchor gets a little too creepy and Rossi feels the need to remind you you’re his.

Warnings: it gets steamy. Not exactly smut, but very close to it, cursing, brief mentions of a rapist unsub, criminal minds violence, grammar/spelling errors. Word count: 1.9k

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　

‘Never in my life have i seen the press be this persistent.”

Emily said looking while out the window, a shocked look on her face. There was a swarm of cameras and microphones engulfing the SUV.

‘What’s the plan Rossi? We cant just walk out and tell them we dont have any leads.’

‘I thought JJ took care of the press.’

Rossi said, ignoring your question. His tone aggravated.

“She did, sir-‘

‘So what is this?”

He retorted, gesturing to the crowd of news anchors. You sighed and shrugged, putting on your sunglasses as a last ditch attempt to save your vision.

“So what do we do?”

Prentiss asked Rossi, repeating your previous question.

‘Push your way through the crowd. Don’t stop, and for the love of god do not say a thing about the case. Theres already been two damn leaks about it. Thats why they’re back.’

You and prentiss met each others gaze, a look of exhaustion and misery in both of your eyes. The three of you nodded and opened the doors, pushing through the crowd, trying to make it to the safety of the sheriffs office.

After what felt like a never ending walk, the three of you met back with the rest of the team. After a brief discussion about hat to do about the crowd outside the sheriffs office. Hotch told you and Rossi to go out and try to ward them off, but not to give them any new information.

—————————

The two of you had been taking turns answering questions infront of dozens of cameras for what felt like hours, but was only 45 minutes. You noticed this one guy push his was to the front over the corse of those 45 minuets. He looked no older than 19 with messy, unkept hair and clothes. That didnt bother you, it was the way he looked at you. At one point you swore you saw him licking his lips while undressing you with his eyes. You gently nudged Rossi with your elbow, gesturing to the guy in a way the anchors wouldnt notice, but he would. You could tell by the look on his face he noticed.

‘Agent l/n will take one more question, then we’ll be done for the day’

Rossi said, looking at you, and stepping closer, resting his hand on the small of your back.The first voice you herd was a mans. Looking in the direction it was in, and to your dismay, it was the creeps.

‘You, in the black t-shirt’

You called out to him, deciding to bite the bullet and answer the question hes been so desperate to asl you.

‘What do you think of what the unsub is doing to his victims? Knowing that all of the victims look unmistakably beautiful like you?”

‘I’m sorry, what?”

You answered before Rossi could even open his mouth. The unsub you were dealing with was a sexual sadist who would tourture his victims, then rape them post-mortem. And yes, his victimology type looked eerily like you. From the hair and eye color, down to the height and skin tone.

‘How do you feel, knowing theres a guy who kills women like you, then has his way with them?”

he spoke slowly, making sure he got the most out of every word. You could tell he was getting off on this. Feeling the hand on your lower back press a little harder; you knew Rossi knew too.

‘Well, for one, i think it’s absolutely disgusting. My team and i are doing everything in out power and more to get him before he can do more harm.’

As you spoke, you looked around at the other cameras, adddressing them, but the creep kept his eyes trained on you. Every time you looked in his direction, his eyes were always skimming up and down your body, his gaze always too low down to be looking at your face.

‘Really? Because I think-‘

‘I think we’re done here. We will not be taking and more questions at this time. Rossi turned twards you, the two of you exchanged a nod and walked away as the anchors tried to talk over each other, the blinding flashes continuing. You could tell by the way Rossi was tense, by the wat he didnt talk, by the way his hands were clenched in fists, how the words stung him.

‘How’d it go?”

Hotch asked, his brow knitting together when he noticed how upset Rossi was.

‘Those damn creeps’

JJ and Emily gave you a knowing look and you returned it with a shrug. Hotch turned to look at you.

‘Are you ok?”

It was his job to keep his team safe. It didnt matter where, on the field or with the press alike, his job was to make sure every person with him was safe, no matter what.

‘I’m fine, just some messed up kid who gets off on this type of stuff. We didnt tell them anything new, just reworded old information like you said.’

Hotch nodded.

‘Good, next time if you dont want to go let me know, ok?”

You nodded and smiled a thanks, when Rossi finally spoke.

‘Y/n, Cara, can i talk to you about something?”

‘Sure what’s up?”

You felt a chill run down your spine at the use of your first name coming hastily from his mouth. He started walking and you shot the three a worried glance. Prentiss mouthed ‘good luck’ as you turned and walked away, following Rossi. He led you to a rather large storage closet that was down the hall and a few turns away from everyone else.

He closed the door behind you and turned the light on, glancing over you once as he walked forward, closing his eyes and tilting his head; smashing his lips into yours. You felt your heart pounding in your ears as he pulled away just as you started to kiss him back. The two of you stood there, the air around you hot and heavy. Rossi’s head was still tilted, his lips parted. They were just touching yours, while he lingered there.

David Rossi knew exactly what he was doing. He wrapped one arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. On of his legs between yours. Resting his other hand on the back of your head, you reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck. He didnt kiss you, his head kept completely still. You squirmed in his arms, the anticipation of another kiss getting to you.

‘Dave..’

You finally breathed out, starting to get anxious.

‘I am..’

He started before finally kissing you again, cutting himself off. This time you didn’t hesitate to kiss him back. Just before you felt a moan escape your lips he stopped once again, his lips now hovering over yours.

‘The only one..’

Rossi started kissing down your jawline, taking his sweet time as he places sloppy kisses until he reached you ear. Then his voice got very low and breathy as he finished the last but of his sentence.

‘Who can look at you like that.’

His breath was hot on your ear and neck. Anytime you’d squirm, his grip around your waist would tighten.

‘Am i clear?”

When he noticed you nod. You herd him mutter a ‘good’ under his breath as he planted more hot, aimless kisses behind your ear and down your neck. You moved your arms a little, grabbing fistfuls of his suit jacket, pulling him closer.

Once he got to the base of your neck he lifted his head once again and kissed you roughly. Slowly taking steps forward, shuffling you back until your back made contact with the wall. You tilted you head back so the top of his hand was also touching the wall. Rossi straightened up, pushing himself against you completely, leaving no space between the two of you. He gradually moved his hands to your face, holding it still as he completely overtook you.not that you we complaining. You dropped your hands from his, holding onto his wrists, muttered moan escaping your lips as you tried to match the passion he had.

‘Holy….fuck mio dolce*’

He hissed as his hands started nipping at the buttons on your top. You rested a hand on his, stopping him.

‘We’re in a storage closet Dave’

You moaned out quietly.

‘Okay?”

You felt a smile creep onto your lips. His hands kept working to h bottom the first few buttons under your grip.

‘David you’re relentless’

‘e tu sei mio**’

He purred, dropping his hands from your shirt and wrapping them around your waist, dropping his head and roughly kissing a spot on your neck. You winced as you felt him nip at your neck, you brought your hands up to his head and tangled your fingers in his already crazy hair. You arched your back and herd Rossi curse under his breath in Italian, bringing his hands up your back, pulling you closer. Dropping your head back you stared at the ceiling, your breath hitched as kissed back up you jaw, this time on the other side. You felt your hands drop from his head and lay idly at your side.

David pulled away for a second and grabbed both of your hands and put them together, holding them above your head with one of his. The top of one of your hands in the palm of the other, your elbows bent out to the side. Standing up straighter, your eyes met his. He leaned forward and kissed everywhere he could, using his free hand to grab at your thigh, pulling it up to his waist. You shifted, adjusting your canter of balance.

‘Oh god, David,”

“Hmm?”

He hummed, marveling at how your body sang with every touch.

A knock at the door tore you both back to earth.

‘Shit,’

He muttered under his breath as he sloppily kissed you once again, as if to make sure you wouldn’t make any suspicious noises.

‘Dave? Are you, uh, okay in there? It’s been over half an hour’

Hotch sounded concerned on the other side of the door. Your eyes flew open, gasping softly when you herd the voice of your boss.

‘We’re fine, Aaron.’

You were shocked that he sounded perfectly normal, but you remembered he’s also had three wives.

‘Okay, well were about to meet together, Morgan and Reid are back from the crime scene’

‘Be right out’

Rossi called out as he looked back at you, then learned to your ear, whispering to you one more time.

‘all mine. Mine and mine only’

Before letting go of your leg and your hands and straightening out his suit, combing a hand through his hair and tightening his tie before walking to the door, resting his hand on the doorknob.

‘Are you ready my love?”

He asked, turning his head to look back at you, a blushing mess trying to straighten out your shirt and hair. You nodded.

‘Do i look okay?”

‘Absolutely stunning.’

You smiled and he left the stuffy closet, turning the light off and closing the door behind you. You walked into the conference room the BAU had converted into a makeshift evidence room, hotch giving Rossi a coy look as prentiss looked at you, raised a brow; parting her lips to speak, then deciding it was best not to.

Rossi noticed the shocked looks of confusion that everyone had and raised his hands, as if he was surrendering.

‘We talked.’

Morgan snorted.

‘Reid. What did you and Morgan find at the crime scene, anything?”

Hotch tried to direct the attention back to the case before it got too out of hand, but that didn’t stop the shocked looks everyone else gave you; and that certainly didn’t stop the sly, satisfied look he had on his face for the rest of the day.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　

*my sweet

**and you are mine

—————

A/n: this was not supposed to be this steamy. Thank you @0and0its0doctor0 for helping me!!

[lightningandfireinmybones]

Merry Christmas even if they were a few days back!!!! I hope you had a good time! (Dont remember if i already wished you well) Currently rereading the latest chapter because i *WILL* send my thoughts on it because both the chapter and you deserve it.

But in the meantime i had some Alicent thoughts that i needed to share with someone else apart from my bestie. So i come here and scream at your inbox with another discount analysis.

Here goes, in my mind Alicent's first time giving birth would have been really traumatizing. As easy as it might have been (in comparison to Aemma's) she was still 15?16? when she gave birth. That combined with the fact that at that time her friendly neighborhood marital rape (for the life of me i am unable to call it anything else) would have hit worse since she was still a child and it was the beginning of her miserable marriage and would have made things much more stressful and hurtful for this child's first time giving birth.

Also also in my headcanon everyone was worried about the baby and whether or not it'd be a boy. And therefore they only spared a look or a word her way when it had to do with the birth and not herself. No worries about her comfort or pain or whatnot. No encouraging words apart from the things you'd expect a farmer to whisper to his birthing cow. Just.. people treated her like a mare to be bred and like the bringer of the much awaited son [and heir (?)]. And oh boi was that a source of stress and terror for her. It must have been!

Not only did she know that the maesters wouldnt hesitate to butcher her trying to get to the Son but also if Viserys could approve of the murder of his dear and beloved wife....what would he approve of regarding her?

What would her father do? Would he even do anything? Isolated and treated as an object. And all that while she is a literal CHILD.

(I dont think my headcanon is that much far from show!reality btw and i must say once more, fuck Alicent haters. She's MY Queen treason and usurping aside. Ilhsm)

Also please let's not forget the actual physical pain and stress the labour would have put on her (underage) body. I cant stress this enough.. she was a C h i l d.

[How can some people be so hateful towards her while simultaneously crying feminist tears over Rhaenyra and her rights and hardships? Hating one of them on the grounds of this flimsy morality means not understanding or respecting either of them.]

Anyways sorry for the spam I just... I was thinking a lot about it while babysitting and having a horrible time trying to get my niece to sleep. I hope my interpretation of what we've seen on the show wasn't completely wrong and horrible.

MERRY CHRISTMAS (respectfully late I’m sorry i have no concept of time being real) TO YOU TOO BESTIE, I’m so excited to hear your thoughts on the latest chapter lmfaoooo

BUT LETS TALK ABOUT YOUR ALICENT THOUGHTS BECAUSE YOURE SO RIGHT AND I LIVE FOR THESE

Calling it martial rape is so right, viserys was really in his “gonna fuck the pain away in a hot teenager the same age as my daughter” era, and somehow managed to isolate Alicent into the role of queen that she had never anticipated before

And the birth of aegon is so loaded with aemma’s ghost and the expectations for an heir but it’s also so scary and has so much implicated for her best friend’s birthright and she really is alone for it and she’s just a baby giving birth to a baby who is in incredible pain and is so isolated b my this role that was thrust upon her

Like you said, her birthing bed was never about her, but about the consequences and implications of her rape bearing fruit, and all anyone cares about is the baby, because as she herself demonstrates, any young pretty thing can be knocked up and called queen when the prior one’s usage expiresm

And then aegon is born and she thinks that maybe, just this once, something and someone is just for her, that her child will love her unconditionally and expect nothing from her and that maybe, despite the horrific origins, being a mother can bring some direction and purpose to her life. The baby will be hers, he will love his mother and give her something to live for and just maybe it’ll be a girl who she can raise up as she would’ve wanted to be raised

EXCEPT it’s a boy

The long awaited ‘heir’

and not even aegon is really hers, because the second he’s born Otto is scheming around him and viserys is haunted even further by the fact that he killed aemma for the chance at this thing that he now has and he realizes it’s meaningless and all of alicent’s suffering for this child was for nothing

I think this plays into the way she is so hard on aegon too, she loves him of course she does, but there is that lingering resentment that aegon was the first to tear her apart and he is a physical manifestation of what viserys and Otto did to her, and he’s such a mess on top of it, it must feel like she did all this for crumbs

And she really should’ve known it would be like this, not even the perils of the birthing bed were about her, why did she expect anything different when the child was actually here, it just drives her deeper into this cold isolated place where her religion and her sacrifice are the only meanings she really has

AND YOURE RIGHT Alicent has a lot of flaws, don’t get me wrong, but so does rhaenyra! And they’re both exposed to this ruthless world where their only bargaining chips and currency are their bodies, wher e power is inherently hinged upon the men in their lives granting them a crumb of respect or autonomy, i think they parallel each other beautifully in that they made the best they could of their circumstances in the only way they could, and that different approach in a system set against them is what inevitably brings them as such interesting counters to each other

(And that’s not even touching on the homoerotic way Milly/Emma and Emily/Olivia played them!!!!)

Anyway never apologize i love hearing your analysis pls send more

[just-some-random-blogger]

BESTIE IM GAGGED NAAKJAMAKKAKAKAKMANANAHAHAHBA IDK BLUE BEARD BUT I DO KNOW CRISTI AND SHE ATE WITH THIS

“It is for the best. Father says that he…” Alicent begins justifying her actions, and you tune out. You know it will just be a repetition of your father’s lectures. Duty. Bearing children. Women knowing their place.

Man fuck Otto. RAT ASS PIECE OF SHIT. you and me 🤝 writing tormented hightowers

You pitied her, for believing in his bullshit.

😭 she's just a girl

“And King Viserys asked me about you, the other day. He would like for you to marry Prince Daemon…”

EWWWWWWWW NOT OTTO MAKING ALICENT DO THE HEAVY LIFTING FOR THIS TOO I HATEHIM

“Be as it may…” She raises a hand, halting you. “Father says you shall marry him, if he finds you agreeable.”

👎👎👎👎 agree with my ass

Lady Royce had no heir. Her castle had gone to Daemon, the King needing little convincing to award it to his beloved brother. Imagining all that bronze in your hands, in House Hightower’s hands, would have him salivating. At getting his enemy away from court? That was only an unexpected bonus. If the man liked you and decided he wanted to play Come-into-my-castle with you, you were sure your father would dance a gig.

"I think it would be nice. To belong to the same House even after marriage. To be never parted from my sister.”

😭✋ I'm stealing this for tormented spirit. CRISTI WTF SO ANGTY SO GOOD

In contrast, you doubt you have ever seen your father this happy. Ever. He is alight with pride. As if throwing his daughter to an old man is some great accomplishment.

Gwayne has left you far too soon, off to dance with some ladies.

L MOVE GWAYNE

“Bitch.” He spits the word from clenched teeth. You laugh loudly.

MSKJSJSSN WHY HE KINDA

“I don’t know, care to find out?”

She ate him up with that HAHHAAH

“Will you?” You roll on your side, stretching. You have done nothing today, not even dress. Daemon and you have spent the whole morning tangled in each other, warm and naked.

😭😫SHE OUT HERE LIVING MY LIFE 🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪

“I mean it.” He is cruel about it, slapping again the stinging flesh. “I do not want you in there. If you disobey, I’ll know.”

🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️ HELLO

DIE

Yet, as his touch turns back into loving, you do not forget. There is something about what lies beyond that red door that turns him into a monster. A creature capable of hurting even you.

GWORLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL HES AN ABUSER DONT DO IT.

You grab the dagger at Daemon’s hip and stab him in the stomach, hard. And you do it again, and again, until your hands and face are covered in blood, and Daemon does no longer move.

🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️ well that'll do it. I'm GAGGED he dead dead fr fr. I almost thought she was like if I'm going to die might as well do it myself and jump out the tower. 😭😭😭 I'm just a masochist lmao

honestly. Deserved. Abusers dying no one crying.

Threefold cord (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Daemon’s wife is presumed dead. But is she?

A/N: Blue beard, to finish my Halloween celebration because I cannot write on schedule. Also @just-some-random-blogger look! The fic I told you about.

Warnings: Hightower!reader x Daemon. Smut. Alicent, Gwayne and reader as siblings. Death of Rhea Royce. Happy ending!

“ARE YOU TRULY about to wed him?” You set your teacup down on its saucer. When your father had summoned you to the capital, you had known it was important news. But Alicent becoming a Queen? It surpassed everything you had imagined.

Your father wanted to make sure you were there to witness her triumph. Alicent lacked allies in court, beyond the Princess. And that relationship would sour as soon as the other girl heard just who her father was to wed.

Alicent was too naive to see it. Or purposefully blind. She claimed to not know what she had been doing when visiting the King, too. You guessed the thought made it easier to bear for her.

You didn’t blame her. King Viserys was old and beginning to show signs of being sickly. The thought of offering yourself to such a man, twice your age, on your father’s orders, wasn’t pleasant. You would rather pretend you were just being kind.

“It is for the best. Father says that he…” Alicent begins justifying her actions, and you tune out. You know it will just be a repetition of your father’s lectures. Duty. Bearing children. Women knowing their place.

You pitied her, for believing in his bullshit. It wasn’t as if either of you could escape your fate, but you at least tried not to lower yourself into thinking you were a lesser, gentler being, made to be bred. Instead, you enjoyed thinking you were a person. Just as human as any man, just as smart, just as strong. Only one trapped by your status as a noblewoman.

You sip at your tea. You are cautious not to make a sound when doing so, and not take too big of a sip. Anyone who gazes at your courtly smile and comely manners would not guess your innermost thoughts.

Alicent continues her tirade, describing animatedly how much she wants to do her duty and birth children. How she knows her body will not fail her as it did for the late Queen. She has an unfortunate thirst for proving herself, your eldest sister.

“And King Viserys asked me about you, the other day. He would like for you to marry Prince Daemon…”

The tea you are drinking goes down the wrong way. You start coughing, and have to hurriedly set down your teacup as to not burn yourself.

“Excuse me?” You say, once the coughing fit subsides a bit, and you are able to wipe your mouth with a napkin. “I will… What? Does father know of this?”

She looks at you, concerned, but says nothing about it. She pours herself another cup of tea.

“Prince Daemon’s wife has been missing for a while. They think she might have…” Alicent leans in, voice lowering. You are in the Tower of the Hand, surrounded by men loyal to your father, and yet she feels she cannot say it freely. You wonder what has Lady Royce done to scandalize her such. “Ran away. With a lover.”

“You prude!” You laugh. You had thought it much worse. “She wouldn’t be the first woman to do so, don’t be nai…”

“A female one.” Alicent interrupts, setting down her own teacup. The movement is a bit harsh, making the porcelain screech.

You open and close your mouth. You had not known that was even a possibility.

“How does one..?”

“Be as it may…” She raises a hand, halting you. “Father says you shall marry him, if he finds you agreeable.”

There was not much you knew about politics, but you were pretty sure the Prince despised your father and your house by extension. You doubted he would find you agreeable. Your father would doubt it too, but he was too blinded by the hope of getting Runestone.

Lady Royce had no heir. Her castle had gone to Daemon, the King needing little convincing to award it to his beloved brother. Imagining all that bronze in your hands, in House Hightower’s hands, would have him salivating. At getting his enemy away from court? That was only an unexpected bonus. If the man liked you and decided he wanted to play Come-into-my-castle with you, you were sure your father would dance a gig.

You wouldn’t. If it did happen… You shuddered, thinking of the man with the lecherous grin, always whoring. Twice your age, and crass as they came. The only times you had crossed paths, he had been busy ogling Alicent or his niece.

“I am not marrying him.”

Alicent frowns at you. Her eyes turn sad. When she gets contradicted, she looks much like a kicked puppy.

“I have never met him.” You explain, feeling guilty over upsetting her. She is just so much like your father, sometimes. It angers you, even when you know it is not her fault. She doesn’t have the same anger in her veins as you do. All she ever wanted was to please your father.

“He is looking for a wife, and King Viserys thinks it would be marvelous if you married him. I have told him all about you.” Alicent sounds excited about the whole thing, and just… No. You do not want to marry a man twice your age. Gross. Her tone turns softer. “I think it would be nice. To belong to the same House even after marriage. To be never parted from my sister.”

The want in her expression makes you soften. It is not often that Alicent admits to desiring anything, and you do not wish to discourage her.

“I’ll meet him.” You decide. “Just that.”

“Oh, how wonderful!”

And the Seven bless her, she actually seems delighted to hear it.

THE WEDDING IS awfully dull. The Septon drones on and on about the Mother and the Father, and the duties of marriage. Alicent looks stunning in her silk gown, beautiful but modest. It is no use. People already speak of what she has done to trap the King into marriage.

Princess Rhaenyra keeps sending her glares during the feast. Sometimes in anger, sometimes in hurt. She is not quite sure what to feel. You can tell from the way she pauses when looking at Alicent. You pity her too.

Losing a mother is a terrible thing. You can only imagine how much it hurts to see her replaced by a girl your own age.

The Princess is a woman who has everything and yet, it's still a woman. No power to stop her father from bedding her best friend, no power to change anything at all. The realization of her powerlessness is clear in her features.

In contrast, you doubt you have ever seen your father this happy. Ever. He is alight with pride. As if throwing his daughter to an old man is some great accomplishment. He has spared no expense on this wedding, the ceremony and feast lavish in a way that feels almost tasteless.

The pomp and luxuries have you feeling morose. You sip at your hippocras, tucked into a corner of the high table, and try to pretend you are invisible. Gwayne has left you far too soon, off to dance with some ladies.

He has always been the courteous sort, just like you. You enjoy watching him charm the ladies, and enjoy more the fact that he hasn’t tried to drag you to the dance floor.

For that, you are grateful. Some ladies are lively and dance as if gliding through water. You do not. Dancing had not been on the list of abilities you had acquired during your etiquette lessons.

It had always felt like peacocking to you. Showing yourself to others, showing how pretty you smiled, how graceful you were. The attention it brought made you uncomfortable. You much preferred blending in.

“Strange choice of drink you have there.” Prince Daemon says, sitting across from you. “Even stranger that you are still sitting at your sister's wedding.”

“I could say the same.” You reply, colder than you planned to. The hippocras is hitting you already, making your temper shorter. You have little interest in Daemon Targaryen.

There is a secret plan in your head. When you reach thirty, you will claim a sudden awakening of Faith and retire to the comforts of life as a Septa. You have done enough charity to know that Septas don’t do as much as they like people to think. The only thing you will miss will be the alcohol.

“Ah, but I am just sitting now.” He idly reaches for the carafe of hippocras you are monopolizing, and serves himself a goblet. “Is this any good?”

“At least it’s not dornish swill.” Dornish wine has to be the worst thing you have ever tasted, not even fit for pigs. Bitter and watery, the mere thought annoys you.

Prince Daemon barks out a laughter.

“Good Gods, where was Otto hiding you?”

“Probably in the same place as your decency.”

“Thread carefully.” Daemon’s expression turns far colder. His hand tightens around the stem of his goblet. “I might like your cheek, but I am still a prince of the realm.”

“One soon to be displaced.” You toast. A bit of hippocras spills from your goblet. You are far too drunk to care about his thoughts. “Be it by my nephews or your niece.”

His face reddens.

“Bitch.” He spits the word from clenched teeth. You laugh loudly.

“Knave.”

“You are an insolent little thing, aren’t you?” Daemon snarls, leaning over the table as if to throttle you. Drunk as you are, you don’t feel any fear. You have just enough rational thoughts left to believe you will be alright, since even the darkened corner you have chosen to sit in is too public for him to murder you without repercussions.

“I am small but fierce.”

“I can see that. Do all Hightower cunts have teeth?”

You smile at him, lazy and warm from the drinks you have had.

“I don’t know, care to find out?”

And Daemon laughs. He asks you to dance instead. As he twirls you and dips you, you come to find he is not bad company after all. And if you laugh a tad more than necessary, and accept his offer to walk the gardens the next afternoon, no one can blame you.

“IT IS BUT a couple of days.” Daemon says to you, softly. You lay on your stomach, head propped up on your arms. You twist your head just so to force him to see your sad little pout.

His hand comes to rub at your shoulders, as if you were a spooked horse he is trying to soothe. His touch is warm and calming against your bare skin.

“I’ll be back before you know it.”

He has soothed you into complacency, this husband of yours. He allows you to indulge in fine wines, and be as frivolous as you wish. The only thing he asks of you is that you are warm and willing when he is. It is no chore.

Long gone is your rage. Now, you exist in a perfect bubble, where no one constricts your freedom. There is no screeching father to tell you that you are a disaster, nor is there a horrified Alicent. Instead, Daemon encourages all your eccentricities, and teaches you some new ones.

“Will you?” You roll on your side, stretching. You have done nothing today, not even dress. Daemon and you have spent the whole morning tangled in each other, warm and naked.

He smiles. That same grin that had once seemed so lecherous to you, now looks inviting.

You bite your lower lip, already anticipating what is to come.

“Minx.” Daemon laughs, before leaning in to press an open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder. The contact of his lips against your skin makes you shiver, a delicate sigh leaving you. “You won’t even notice I am gone.”

“Of course I will.” You whine, as he kisses a path down your spine. “Who will bring me such pleasure?”

A sudden, sharp pain on your arse makes you yelp and sit up. Daemon smirks, and feigns taking another bite out of you.

“You are so spoiled.” He laughs. “Cannot take even a little pain. I’ll leave you some coin, and you can invite your sister to keep you company. How does it sound?”

“Think the King can spare his Queen?” You have not seen your sister since your wedding. The ravens fly fast enough that you know the news already, but you doubt King Viserys will allow her to be out of his sight for long. Not when pregnant.

Daemon nips at your thigh. You jerk, but he coaxes you back into laying on your stomach.

“Before she gets too round to travel, yes. In a few moons, it will have to be us making the trip.”

“Gods, I hate babes.”

“So do I.” He rubs at your inner thigh, slowly prying your legs open. “So? Is my spoiled wife happy?”

“Very.” You rub your face in the pillow, all kittenish. You like being called his. “Do I get the keys of the castle, too?”

Daemon kisses the place where your thigh meets your arse. You can feel his smile against your skin, promising sin.

“Of course. Just don’t go into the room with the red door, alright? I forbid it.”

“You do?” You challenge, thinking it part of the game. So far, you have yet to explore all of Runestone, always too entertained by him to do so. There are a few rooms he is cagey about, but you have always blamed it on Daemon being very private and needing his space. He has never allowed you into his personal library, either. Says you would ruin the books.

You have never minded it. You understand your place here, the dumb young wife. Men never like thinking the woman they are with can be more interesting than them. To think you can also have an interest in books, apart from being frivolous, would be too much for him to handle.

The warning about the red door only registers to you as part of the games you usually play in the bedroom. Something he can punish you about later on, something that might excuse a round of rough lovemaking.

But his expression turns into a frightening mask of utter rage. He pinches you in the thigh, and this time, it really hurts.

“Fuck!” You cry out, fighting his hold. His grip has turned from the sweetest chains into unforgiving iron around your hips. You cannot move. Not even as he slaps your thigh, hard enough to make your eyes water. “Daemon, what the..?”

“I mean it.” He is cruel about it, slapping again the stinging flesh. “I do not want you in there. If you disobey, I’ll know.”

You stare at him, open-mouthed, You cannot comprehend how fast he has flipped, from kind lover to whatever this is. The rogue Prince is mercurial, you think, echoing the letter your father had once written complaining about him, his moods dangerous.

“Fine!” You cry out, desperate to evict this creature that has taken sudden hold of your husband’s body. “Fine! No opening the red door.”

Daemon softens then. His shoulders slump, and his face goes back into a mask of devotion.

“I just don’t want anything to happen to you.” He presses a kiss to your thigh, to the place he slapped. You tense. “It is dangerous for you. Like the Moondoor in The Eyrie.”

Yet, as his touch turns back into loving, you do not forget. There is something about what lies beyond that red door that turns him into a monster. A creature capable of hurting even you.

You intend to find out what it is.

THE FORTNIGHT SPENT with Alicent is by far, the best of your life. Runestone is grand, with intricate tapestries and artwork decorating the walls. Your sister has always loved art, and the time spent surrounded by beautiful things seems to rejuvenate her.

Her pregnancy appears to be easy and without fuzz. There is no nausea preventing her from having as many lemon cakes as you two wish, or from exploring the Vale’s markets, trying on dresses and tasting expensive food.

The money Daemon has left you is enough to fund your shopping sprees. You have so much fun, running in the halls and trying on dresses, it feels as if you are little girls again. The only thing missing from your childhood is Gwayne.

So you send for him.

Despite how much joy your time spent with your sister brings you, you cannot shake the thought about the red door.

It is situated in one of the towers, near the place where Daemon keeps his books. You pass by it daily, for Alicent’s rooms have been placed in the same tower. Housing a Queen is no easy task, much less when she carries the heir to the Iron Throne inside her. She had come with servants and guards, who had to be housed too. There was no space but that tower.

That tower. Each time you pass it, you have to clench your fists hard to stop yourself from reaching towards it. Every time you open a door, your hands linger on the only key you will never use.

What lies behind the red door? What can possibly upset your husband such and change him from a careless hedonist into a violent man?

When no one is near, you kneel by the door and try to look through the keyhole. The lock on the door is old and smells faintly of iron. The only thing you can see looking through the keyhole is rust.

Trying to look under the door gives you the same results. Rust and iron, and a nagging curiosity that will not leave you alone.

You try to forget about it. You owe obedience to your husband, and you remember all too well the tale of the woman who owned a jar that should never be opened. It had been a favorite of your father during your youth.

A wife must never pry. For she might find something she doesn’t like.

Yet, when you think of Daemon grabbing you hard enough to bruise, you realize you already have found something you do not like. It is that thought what helps you make up your mind. One afternoon, when Alicent claims to be too tired to keep you company, you decide to open the door.

Your hands are slick with sweat, and shaking so much it takes you two tries to fit the key into the keyhole. Your heart feels like it will leap out of your chest. Suddenly, you are paralyzed.

You cannot turn the key. Your hands have gone rigid. Your fear overwhelms you. What could possibly be in here, if not a terrible secret?

You turn it. The lock clicks, and the door gives with an ominous creak. You step inside, as careful as you can. The floor is slick and sticky. When you look down, your shoes and the hem of your gown are tinted red.

You scream. You turn towards the walls, only to find more blood. Bloodied rags, stains, a bloodied dagger. You begin to feel lightheaded. When you stumble towards a corner, you see her.

A corpse of a woman, hugging her knees to her chest. Her body is rotting, half of her face gone, but enough of it remaining so you can see that it has frozen in an expression of utter horror, much like your own. She wears a rune covered armor, and has several cuts all over.

This time, you fall down. The keys slip from your grip, and you scream so loud, you are sure you wake the whole castle.

The missing Rhea Royce.

“Good gods!” Alicent cries out, behind you. You stumble to your feet, terrified. She cannot see it. Daemon… Daemon was going to kill you both. “What is this? By the Seven, is that..?”

“He is going to kill me.” You say, wiping the blood clinging to your hands on your dress. You try to clean the keys as well, but the stain won’t come out. No matter how hard you try. “He’ll know.”

“He is not going to, we can go to the King, and I am sure there is…” Alicent sounds horrified. She lingers on the doorstep, already on her nightshirt. Her belly is barely beginning to show.

“Alicent!” You say, sharply. “He’ll know. You have to run, Alicent. He will kill us both.”

“And leave you to die?” Your sister sounds indignant. “I cannot. You cannot…”

You cannot run, you wish to say. You cannot because if you do, Daemon will know even quicker, and chase you both. If you stay, maybe you can fool him. Or at least, give your sister a fighting chance.

“Please!” You cry. “Do it for the babe.”

Alicent’s lips turn white from the force she uses to keep them closed. She looks into your eyes, and hesitates. You fear she might not go through it.

“Go!” You cry, slipping on all the blood.

And Alicent, big brown eyes wide, hikes up her skirts and runs.

DAEMON NOTICES AS soon as he asks for the keys. You have never been a good liar, and the blood still stains them. When handing them over, you shake.

His smile drops. He no longer is the happy husband, but the creature that had frightened you the other night. The creature that had killed Rhea Royce, and took her lands.

“You couldn’t leave it alone, could you?” He grabs you by the neck, snarling.“I told you to leave it alone.”

Your pulse begins to race. You cannot speak, and you can only take shallow breaths. Your panic must show on your face because Daemon smiles at you, coldly. He squeezes a tad harder, enough to cut off your breath.

You gasp. It comes out more like a choked hiccup.

“Look at what you are making me do.” When you are starting to feel lightheaded, breath coming out in desperate wheezes, Daemon gives you a shove. “I never wanted to do this. This is all your fault.”

“You don’t have to kill me.” You plead, voice shaking. “I’ll keep your secret.”

Daemon looks at you, and laughs.

“I assure you, I have not gotten away with it this long because I believe every pretty thing telling me they will keep their mouths shut.”

Your eyes widen. The phrasing is strange. Every pretty thing…

“There had been others?” Daemon scoffs at your question, but doesn’t answer. You look into his eyes, and try pleading once more. At this point, tears are streaming down your cheeks. You are sure you make a very pathetic sight. “Just… Don’t kill me.”

“Good Gods. Are all Hightowers this dumb or is it you and Aliwhore?” Daemon grasps your face, roughly. You cannot believe your ears. Where is all this hatred coming from? It seems like the man you loved, the one that had courted you for endless summer days, is gone. All that is left is his profound hatred for you and your family. Had he only pretended not to hate you, and was showing his true colors now? “At least die with some dignity, you pathetic cunt.”

Dignity. Dignity could buy you time. You need it, to think of a way to survive.

“Allow me to pray, then. To make my peace with my death.”

Prayer wasn’t your strong forte. But you guessed you could possibly buy an hour with it. You had never been as devout as your siblings, but you could pretend well enough to fill the time as you tried to make your own miracle happen.

Daemon studies your expression closely. He tilts your head up and down, and then gives you a patronizing little pat on the cheek.

“Fine.” He spits out. “Pray. Only a few minutes, not a second more.”

You walk past him, intent on going back to the tower where a statue of the Mother stands. You watch his face carefully when you pass by him, worried he is only toying with you and has no true intention of allowing you to pray in solitude. But he doesn’t stop you.

You make your way to the highest tower, kneel by the feet of the statue and weep. Your weakness only lasts you a moment because when you lift your gaze, you catch sight of a green standard approaching the gates.

Could that be..?

“Are you done?” Daemon asks, from behind the closed door. You can hear the drag of steel against steel, and picture him in your mind’s eye. Taking Dark Sister out of her sheath, face full of bloodlust.

“Just a minute more.” You beg, watching the rider stop at the gates and being allowed in by the guards. “Don’t kill me, please! Not yet!” You cry out, as loud as you can, hoping your voice carries.

Daemon bursts in, Dark Sister held by his side. His smile is cold, his face the image of calm. One would never guess he is about to kill someone by watching his expression. You notice the dagger he carries at his hip, but do not dare to try to take it. Not when Dark Sister’s reach is much longer.

“Oh, spare me the hysterics. More prayer will not spare you.” He lunges at you, and you evade him, but there are only so many places one can run to in a small room. Daemon catches you by wrapping your braid in his hand, giving you a harsh tug that makes you tumble down. You scream.

“Shut up. Seven Hells, quiet.” Daemon places the sword at your throat. “You will…”

The door is thrown open by a kick, the loud bang startling him and making his grip falter.

“She will do nothing.” Gwayne says, firmly. You can see Alicent standing behind him, wrenching her hands together. You have never been more grateful to see them. “Or I’ll gut you like a fish.”

“Oh?” Daemon shoves you. You do not fight his push, laying limply on the floor. He turns towards Gwayne, sword no longer focused on you. “You think you can beat me, boy?”

Gwayne cannot. He had lost to him in a tourney not even six months before. You do not hesitate. You grab the dagger at Daemon’s hip and stab him in the stomach, hard. And you do it again, and again, until your hands and face are covered in blood, and Daemon does no longer move.

You look up at your siblings, then. Alicent’s face is horrified, but when she senses your eyes on her, she smooths down her expression. Gwayne watches with vague interest. At some point, he seems to have taken Dark Sister from Daemon’s hand because he now holds it.

The three of you stare at each other. The blood on your hands is rapidly cooling and turning sticky. You wipe your hands on your dress.

You had thought you would feel something if you killed another person. Instead, you only feel numb. Empty. Daemon is gone, and so are his things. His kisses, his threats, the monster that lurked beneath.

It’s Alcent who first speaks, face pale. “The red room. We need to get to work.”

By the end of it, it is as if he never came home at all. The three of you hug, on the brink of tears. Another string tied you now, beyond the sibling bond. The man you had murdered, and the duty to forget him.

[lilbitofdevilinthoseangeleyes]

i held onto the space between my question and your answer

and how gently you replied a moment later

for someone that knows how strong i must be

to have endured what you’ve done

someone who could care so little about the impact your actions had on me

you are extremely aware of how gentle you should be with a heart like mine

and you are overly cautious with some things you think might hurt me

there are nights I am nothing but a mess

I’m not longing for anything but humanity out of you

and I want to call you

and spill a heart full of words I don’t have

but all I know is the pit in my chest

and tears streaming down my face

are for you

and the way i nitpick my body

and second guess everything I attempt to eat

and every word that comes out of my mouth

is because of you

i know it’s done

i know there was so much more pain than my body is allowing me to hold onto

i know it was a mess from the start

but I loved you

l really, really loved you

through it all

and it’s the same issue we had when we were together

you hate(d) me

that destroys me to this day

no matter how messy it was, I believed you had a soul

and I begged for that soul.

i begged for those puppy dog eyes and sweet little smile

and the humanity in you

to come back

for so long

i dont deserve to never see it again

I don’t deserve to still get such soulless eyes

and inhumane actions and words

from someone I saw so much in

years ago

when you’d finally come home

and you’d hold me

and tell me how sorry you were

that you’d do better

I think that’s all I need

I want your arms wrapped around me

though I might fight them off and might scream and cry harder than you’ve ever seen

all I’ve ever needed was the boy I fell for

to come back

whether he’s actually mine or not

i just gotta know he still exists

and he still loves me

and he knows how much I loved him

I don’t want answers

I don’t miss you

I don’t want a future with you

I don’t want you back

but I wish it weren’t the way it was

and I wish it didn’t have the outcome it did

I’m mourning someone I never would’ve let go of on my own

so I thank you for doing it for me

but i miss you coming back

and showing me you still have a heart

[vanilladaises-rp]

"I dont like when you worry about me so much either. Maybe we both just worry too much" I say with a half-chucle, trying to lighten the mood. "No Hyunjin, I swear I can take th-" I was about to say before Hyunjin cuts off. I sigh and follow him to the bedroom. My heart flutters when Hyunjin pulls out some of my clothes that he has here for when I stay over. I sit on the bed quietly and watch him lay everything out. "I-i don't like it when you are upset with me" I mumble after a few moments of silence. "I-i don't l-like it when you say my full name. I like w-when you call me bub a-and sweetheart, and I hate feeling like you are disappointed in me" I hiccup. "I hate that you don't realize how much you mean to me, and I hate that me and you can't be seen as n-normal. I just hate-" I get out before I choke up, more tears falling down my cheeks as I refuse to look at Hyunjin.

-🌸

Hyunjin nodded in agreement “I guess we do” he chuckled lightly as he handed you the clothes “I’ll try not to if it will make things better, i really do try it’s just hard. I care about you a lot Y/N” he sighed before as he was laying the clothes out. Hyunjin was about to leave the room but once he heard you speak, your words were like bullets to his heart. He felt his eyes become watery but refused to cry because he didn’t want to make things worse “bub no” he said before turning back to you, gathering your shaking frame in his arms “it’s okay” he whispered rubbing your back and letting you cry it all out. After a few moments, once you calmed down a little he spoke “love, look at me” he whispered softly “I’m not upset with you, I promise. I’m upset at myself only but I can assure you I’ve never been upset with you. I promise” he said firmly “and never, I mean never ever have I been disappointed in you sweetheart, you make me so proud. you work and study hard, you’re so intelligent and kind. you’re more than I could ever ask my darling” he cooed “I know, he hurts me too I want to be treated fairly as well, especially for you and hopefully one day I will but til then I don’t care who judges me, I won’t leave you no matter what, okay?”

[roggvers]

I've been catching up on some movies i didn't care to watch in the last 5 years (I guess I am THAT bored) and looking at the length of the origin movies for other superheroes it makes me bitter all over again how CM was cut short, we were deprived of at least 26 minutes (that we know of) and since I know most of that was Kree and Yon and Yonvers related stuff I will never stop being angry about that.

Especially since apparently the reason they cut it they didn't want to make Yon overly sympathetic because of course we must dumb down everything and make it black and white instead of allowing shades of grey.

And also their stupidest reason about erasing any mentions of Yon's name as if they weren't already selling toys before the movie release 🤬

And of course the fact that they release a sp*derman movie every two years while we have to wait like 4 till CM sequel and she doesn't even get her own movie her movie is turned into a team up movie I'm just agahsjnd so angry about the disrespect for my one and only captain.

She was the first to crack a billion as a solo movie at the box office and yet they are treating her like an afterthought. Watching L*ki i didn't even spot any CM scenes in the credits and she's literally the origin of the av*ngers name. M*rvel don't deserve our girl and our alien because they are wasting all the potential :/

[jesusjizz]

I Need You Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

A/N: Hiiii! This is the first writing I'm posting ever, so if you hate it, plz dont tell me. :-) This is not historically accurate in the slightest, but neither is the show so whatever. This is also not a show accurate Anthony, he is way less stuck up in this, but with the same charm. I have been searching for a slightly sub Anthony fic, but couldn’t find one anywhere, so I decided to make it! Hope you enjoy!

Summary: Anthony Bridgerton is set on marrying this season, and the reader has no idea he has eyes for her. 

Warnings: pillow princess Anthony, light sub/dom themes (dom!reader), and a healthy sprinkle of regency era foot fetish :-)

Word Count: 5,000+

_______________________________________________________________________

Hyde Park is bustling with people out for an afternoon promenade. Among the crowd, you spot your friend Daphne. The two of you have been friends for some time, since you lived across the street from the Bridgertons, and Daphne was only one year your elder. You were by her side all throughout last season, when she was named diamond, and she intends to do the same for you. 

“Your Grace.” You greet her with a dramatic bow and suppressed laughter. She turns, her polite smile already making its way to her face before she realizes it's you. 

“My diamond!” She says, equally as dramatic while pulling you in for a hug. “How have you been?” 

You haven't seen her since she became a duchess ten months ago, but the two of you pick up right where you left off. “I should be asking you that!” you say dramatically, gasping when you see her swollen belly. “You are with child?” You ask excitedly.

“I am afraid pregnancy suits her well.” The Duke appears at her side, smiling brightly while placing a delicate hand on his wife's stomach. You greet the Duke in the same manner you did Daphne, only with more formality. He waves your manners away. “Please, there is no need for formalities. How have you been Y/N?” he asks with genuine curiosity. 

“Oh haven't you heard, Hastings? Miss Y/L/N is the season incomparable.” The comment was from none other than Anthony Bridgerton himself. There was a hint of something in his voice, but you could not quite place it. 

Your relationship with the Viscount is confusing to say the least. He has always respected you as a self sufficient woman, able to stand your ground and go against societal norms, but he also loved to pick on you. He secretly loves the way you challenge him. No one else besides his family holds him accountable in the same way you do, and his enjoyment of it vexes him to no end. It is quite the same for you. You get a rush every time he admits defeat to you, which means most of your conversations end up in an argument, but neither of you truly dislike the other. 

“Jealous, are you, Lord Bridgerton?” You ask him with feigned care. You have never been one for society, so much so that you held your debut off for as long as possible. You despise the way society oppresses women, but as an only child, you know it is your duty as a daughter to marry. You did not want to be this seasons diamond, in fact you almost cried when you were appointed, and not out of joy. But now you are, and you are forced to be okay with that. 

Anthony’s face morphs into a sneer, but before he can respond, Daphne interjects. 

“As much as I have missed your squabbles, I believe Y/N and I should head to the Modiste in preparation for tonight's ball.” You smile and give her a nod before linking arms and heading toward town. 

The modiste is bustling with ladies of the ton, so you and Daphne take your time examining fabrics. 

“I hear Anthony has decided to wed this season.” Daphne says, giving you a suspicious side glance. There is a stirring in your stomach, jealousy perhaps, but you push the feeling away. 

You clear your throat before speaking, “Well, I pity the lady he should choose. She will have her hands full indeed.” Daphne laughs before giving you a look you do not quite understand. “What?” You ask. But before she can respond, you are being called away by Madame Delocoix. Daphne keeps a coy look on her face for the rest of your fitting, but says nothing more about the Viscount, much to your dismay.

_____________________________________________________________________

Lady Danbury’s ball is filled with elaborate fineries and beautiful guests. Your entrance was dramatic, thanks to Lady Danbury, who announced your arrival for all to hear. You were instantly bombarded with suitors claiming spaces on your dance card, much to your chagrin. Across the room, you could see a similar scene unfolding, but instead there is a hoard of ladies surrounding one eligible bachelor. You refuse to take your eyes off the scene, searching for the mystery bachelor to no avail, but you have a good idea of who is hidden among the fawning ladies. 

Hours go by, and your feet are beginning to ache. A direct result of multiple dances with men who lack coordination. You retire to the refreshment table in hopes of finding solitude, but you are met with the one person you simply cannot relax around. 

“Ah, Lady Y/N. Have you grown tired of getting your toes stepped on?” Anthony says in a condescending voice. You take a deep breath to compose yourself, aware of the eyes constantly on you as the seasons diamond. 

“Lord Bridgerton.” You greet with a small curtsy. “I must admit, I have grown quite weary of dancing.” You decide against poking the bear tonight, since you are already much too exhausted and an argument would only exhaust you further. Anthony’s eyes bulge slightly at the honesty you give him, but he plays along. “I see. I must agree with you, I find dancing to be quite tiring.” He gives you a side glance to gauge your reaction, and his stomach flips when he sees your gaze focused solely on his. 

“I suppose you were the cause of the hoard of eligible misses earlier?” You say, nudging his arm in mock approval. He shakes his head with a smile, “Unfortunately so.”

“I do hate these events.” You admit with a sigh. “They are dreadfully boring.”

“I agree. I have quite a few places I’d rather be at the moment.” He says with a smirk, eyeing you up and down. The gaze causes heat to pool between your legs, and you can feel your face reddening. You compose yourself quickly before responding.

“And what might those places be, hm?” You reply with an equally taunting smirk, causing Anthony to have a similar reaction as you. Your curiosity only grows, but as you look at him you can see your mother, Violet Bridgerton, and Daphne all looking in your direction with smiles on their faces. You certainly do not like that. 

Before he can respond, Anthony’s attention is pulled elsewhere. 

“Lord Lumley.” You hear Anthony greet the man approaching, forcing you to look away from the trio observing you. 

“My Lord,” You give a light bow in Lumley’s direction. 

“Miss Y/L/N, I am pleased to see you tonight. May I have your next dance?” He asks, bowing and offering his hand. You were getting ready to politely decline, but a voice beat you to it. 

“I am afraid Miss Y/N is not available at the moment. I am to accompany her in the next dance.” Anthony states in a voice that leaves no room for disagreement. You can't help the urge you have to tell him off for speaking for you. You are entirely capable of using your own voice to make your own decisions, and besides, you don't even want to dance again. But before you can protest, Anthony offers you his arm. 

You take it with a glare before moving towards the dance floor. You take a glance over your shoulder to see the trio of women smiling and whispering to one another, seemingly pleased you are taking to the floor with the Viscount. 

The waltz begins, and the first few moments are met with silence between the two of you. “We have an audience.” You say in a hushed voice, motioning your head toward the two Bridgertons chatting with your mother in the corner. “They’ve been staring for quite some time.” 

“Have they, now?” Anthony asks, a sense of pride bubbling in his chest.

“My Lord,” You ask, forcing Anthony to meet your eyes again. He does so with little hesitation, and a slight pleading look in his gaze that sends a shock through you. You love the way he responds so quickly to you. “You never answered my question.” You say, with a sly raise of your eyebrow. 

Anthony gives you an approving look before speaking. “There are many places a man likes to enjoy his time.” He says, his voice dropping an octave as he leans closer to you. 

“Pray tell, Lord Bridgerton.” You say in a voice barely above a whisper. Your faces are mere inches apart, and the tension is palpable. 

“I’m afraid those establishments are no place for a lady, let alone the diamond of the season.” He says pointedly, his gaze never leaving yours. You lift your chin defiantly before responding. 

“I see. Afraid I will cower like the prim and proper lady I’m meant to be?” You ask in an accusatory tone. If anyone knows the extent of your hatred for society's oppression of women, it is him, which is why his answer almost offends you. 

“Quite the opposite, I’m afraid.” Anthony says, his arm around your waist pulling you closer to him. He dips his head toward your ear, whispering, “I believe you would enjoy them too much. They are called vices for a reason.” 

A shiver of excitement runs down your spine, and you can only hope this is meant as an invitation to you. “A gaming hell?” you question quietly. Anthony’s approving smile is all the answer you need. 

“Take me to one.” You blurt out. You cannot deny your curiosity, especially when it is something so forbidden. Your excitement outweighs any of the dangers you could foresee. 

Anthony looks hesitant, but the stern look on your face mixed with the hopeful glimmer in your eyes leaves him with no other choice but to agree. 

The dance comes to an end, but before the two of you part ways, Anthony pulls you close. 

“Be ready at midnight and I will fetch you from your house. Wear something to hide your identity. Your reputation will not be ruined on my behalf.” You nod in understanding before making your way back to the refreshment table as if nothing ever happened. 

_______________________________________________________________________

Midnight comes faster than you anticipated. You have been dressed for over an hour, but you still feel unprepared. You are wearing your best corset, which accentuates your bust line perfectly, as well as an elaborate mask and free flowing hair, in an attempt to make yourself as unrecognizable as possible. As exciting as this is, you still understand the severity of what could happen if someone recognizes you. 

You hear hooves outside, followed by the slight tapping of rocks on your window. You can't help the laugh that bubbles from your chest before you open your window. Below you stands Anthony, dressed in the same thing he wore to the ball, only now his suit jacket is unbuttoned proudly showing off his sheer undershirt. Your heart skips a beat before saying, “Meet me at the servants door.” He nods with a smile on his face, taking off in the direction of your rendezvous point. 

On your way out, you decide that you will not refuse yourself the pleasantries that gaming hells provide. Tonight is your one night of freedom, and you refuse to let it go to waste. 

Anthony is waiting outside the servants door for you, just like you asked him to, and the sight causes butterflies to erupt in your stomach. You wonder how much control you have over him; how far could you go before he challenges you. 

“I shall ride with you.” You tell him boldly, before he can make his way to your stables to fetch your horse. 

He looks taken aback for a moment, before a slight tint rises to his cheeks. He nods and grabs your hand. “Of course, my lady.” 

The title causes your skin to heat, and you beam with pride once you realize he did not challenge your request. He helps you onto his horse before mounting it himself, and takes off into the night. 

_______________________________________________________________________

The room is crowded and loud, smoke hanging in the air as Anthony guides you to a small table in the corner. He ushers you into one side before sitting across from you and motioning to a waiter. 

“Two brandy’s.” He commands. The waiter nods and scurries away, returning moments later with two glasses of dark liquid. You know of the spirit, due to your fathers love of alcohol, and can’t help the excitement swirling in you as Anthony hands you a glass. 

His stare is burning into you as you raise the glass to your lips. You pause momentarily, and he raises an eyebrow. You smirk before downing the entire glass in a mere two swallows. Anthony tries as best he can to hide his shock, but fails miserably. You barely even wince at the burning feeling settling in your stomach, and he can’t help but find it undeniably attractive. Or maybe he just finds you attractive. 

“Mmmm, I think I quite like that.” You say, making a show of slowly licking your lips. Anthony gives you a wanting look before downing his own beverage. In that moment, you realize something that slightly shocks you. You are flirting with him. And you're enjoying it. 

“What are you doing to me?” Anthony says under his breath, shaking his head and repositioning his legs to suppress the bulge forming.

“What was that, My Lord?” You ask him, leaning forward and purposely pushing your chest out. Something has come over you tonight, a sort of power you have never felt before, and you don’t plan on letting it go to waste. The privacy of the booth Anthony chose for the both of you only fuels your behavior. 

He clears his throat before responding in a wavering voice. “My Lady,” You hum in approval before he can continue, “I love it when you call me that.” Your voice is smooth and sultry, and Anthony has to close his eyes and take a deep breath to regain his composure. 

You’ve let your guard down tonight, and Anthony decides it makes him like you even more. He decided a few days ago to begin courting you, and told his mother and Daphne. They were elated to hear the news, both quick to give him tips and tricks, but he did not need them. He knew the pair of you had an unorthodox relationship. He knows you like to be in control, and you are the only person he would give up control for; a perfect match in his eyes. He decided to bring you here tonight for purely selfish reasons, a way to see how far you would push the boundaries. Up until now, he had been unsure as to whether or not you were interested in him, but the second you accepted that invitation he knew you were, even if you hadn’t quite figured that out yet. 

But now you have, and your eyes can’t seem to stray far from his form. He has no tie on, and the top buttons of his undershirt are undone. You're surprised it's taken you this long to realize you have affection for Anthony, but you suppose you have always been too focused on besting him. Your feet inch closer to his under the table, before you grow bold and run yours up the side of his leg. 

“Has that brandy got to you already?” He asks, holding your gaze and searching your eyes for any hint of dishonesty. 

“No, My Lord.” You reply breathily. “You have.” Once Anthony is certain you are being truthful, he grabs your hand and starts leading you toward a hallway. 

You are pulled into a dimly lit room with a large bed and multiple sitting areas. You know what these rooms are used for, and the fact that you are in one right now sends waves of excitement through your entire body. Anthony has yet to let go of your hand, leading you to a seat. To your surprise, he is the one who sits in it, leaving you towering before him. 

“Y/N, I must be truthful with you.” Anthony says sincerely. The honest tone of his voice gives you pause, and you kneel in front of him with a worried look. 

“Anthony? What’s wrong?” you ask, fearing the worst. Your mind replays all the moments before this in which you may have caused him to dislike you. You are afraid you may be misreading this entire situation and making a fool of yourself. He takes a few long moments to answer, but never lets go of your hand. 

“I am enamored with you.” He finally reveals, eyes meeting yours in the most vulnerable state you have ever seen him. “Ever since my mother told me you would be debuting this season, I have wished for nothing but to make you mine. It is why I decided to marry this season.” 

His confession shocks you slightly, but it is soon replaced with joy and tenderness as he continues. 

“Ever since we have been young, I have envisioned you as my wife. Before, I thought it was because you were the only girl I spent time with aside from my family, but as I grew older I noticed myself comparing every new woman in my life to you. You were- are, constantly on my mind, and I cannot keep it from you any longer.” His eyes are downcast, and his face looks almost pained. “I understand if you do not share my feelings, but I need you to know.” He finishes solemnly. 

It takes you a moment to regain your composure. You reach your hand up to gently caress the side of his face, causing his eyes to meet yours in an instant. 

“I feel great affection for you, Anthony.” The words are slow and methodical, and Anthony's eyes are glued to your mouth. “You are one of the only men who sees me as an equal. You empower me in ways no one has before, and I know I could not find a man better than you.” 

Anthony grabs your hand that was resting on his cheek and tenderly kisses your palm. “Have me.” He says, his eyes burning into yours. “Have me tonight, and I will speak to your father about a proposal in the morning. I cannot be without you, My Lady.” He says the last words in a suggestive tone, knowing you enjoy that name, moving one of your thumbs to his mouth to lightly suck on it. 

The action has you whimpering. Though you are unwed, you are aware of the marital act and what it entails. Your mother refused for you to be an unprepared wife, so she explained the act to you far before your debut, hoping it would help you be more prepared when selecting a husband. Curiosity got the best of you on many occasions, and you are well versed in pleasing yourself, so the thought of pleasing Anthony lights a fire in you. 

You rush forward, capturing his lips with yours. He moans into the kiss, while your hands roam his body. You begin to stand slowly, never breaking the kiss, causing Anthony's head to lean back. One you have stood, you pull away in order to rid yourself of your mask and dress, feeling far too confined. Anthony stares, slack jawed as your dress falls to the floor, leaving you only in your undergarments and stockings. His hand moves between his legs, palming over a growing bulge. 

You slip your shoes from your feet before raising a leg to the arm of the chair Anthony sits in. His hand immediately reaches for your foot, redirecting it to rest on the chair between his legs, a mere inch or two from his manhood. His eyes stay glued to yours as he pulls your stocking down your leg at a maddeningly slow pace. Your heaving breaths are the only sounds that fill the room. He repeats the action to the other leg, but before your foot reaches the ground, you brush it against the bulge between his legs teasingly. 

You have never seen the male form in person, but you have seen illustrations. You found your mothers secret stash of books in your home's library a few years ago, and studied them diligently. The thought of Anthony recreating those illustrations has you aching with need. 

A strangled whine claws its way up Anthony’s throat, which turns to a moan when he sees you lowering yourself in front of him. Your hands move quickly to free him from his breeches, gasping in delight when his length springs free. Anthony lets out a sigh of relief before hooking a finger under your chin and gazing into your eyes. “Are you sure?” His labored breath only spurs you on more, so instead of answering, you lean forward and flatten your tongue against his length. Slowly you move from base to tip, while Anthony grips the arms of the chair so hard his knuckles turn white. The low moan he lets out tells you that you are doing something right, so you follow your instincts and wrap your mouth around his tip, sucking lightly. 

His hands find their way to your hair, gripping with the perfect tension, causing you to moan. His hips stutter as he guides you up and down his length. Your hand raises to grip what cannot fit in your mouth, and he throws his head back in ecstasy. You lock eyes with him through your lashes, raising your unoccupied hand to his mouth. He obediently takes your thumb into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your digit. Your mouth comes off his length while your hand continues to work him. 

“Good boy.” You say with a sultry smile. The phrase has Anthony's eyes rolling back as he moans around your finger. “Mmm, you like that?” You ask him. He nods his head fervently, a pleading look taking over his usually stern features. The fact that you are the one making him feel this good makes you squeeze your legs together. 

You stand abruptly, walking toward the bed while unlacing your corset. You throw a look over your shoulder to see Anthony still sat in the chair, seemingly awaiting your command. A sinister smile pulls at your lips, and you decide you want to play with him. 

You let your corset fall away from your body, your back still facing him as your hands roam your chest. You pinch and tug at your nipples, letting your moans fall freely while your head tips back in bliss. Once you have worked yourself up enough, you turn back to face Anthony. 

His hand is working himself as he watches you, mouth hanging open and eyes full of lust. A surge of anger fills you seeing him like this. You want to be the one touching him, the only one touching him. But your anger fades into want when you hear him moan unashamedly upon seeing your bare chest. His hand picks up speed and you reach for your drawers, pulling them down your legs at an achingly slow pace, watching him intently the whole time. The hand that was stroking himself stops as you make your way to the bed. The way the room is set up means you are both facing one another, him sat in the chair, and you sprawled on the bed. 

Your hands roam all over your body, one hand settling between your legs while the other tweaks your nipples. You keep your eyes on the man before you as your fingers work slow circles over your sensitive clit. His eyes flick between your hand and your face, licking his lips with want as he reaches between his legs. 

You force yourself to speak before he can touch himself again. “Stand up.” You tell him, the phrase sandwiched between moans. He obeys immediately, stepping toward you. You place your foot on his chest to stop him from moving any closer, your hand continuing its assault between your legs. “Take your shirt off. Please, I need to see you.” You say frantically. You feel yourself reaching your peak, and you want him to watch you come undone. 

Anthony slowly unbuttons his undershirt, eyes locked on yours the whole time. “You’re close.” He says, grabbing your foot from his chest and slowly bringing it to his mouth. “I can tell.” He says, followed by a whine. His voice mixed with the feeling of his mouth on your foot is quickly bringing you to the edge. 

“I am.” You pant. “I want you to watch me. Touch yourself, please.” The second you see his hand stroking his length, your eyes screw shut and your body begins to shake. All at once, white hot pleasure rips through your body. “Anthony!” You moan out, fighting to keep your eyes on him as your body shakes with aftershocks. 

Your leg drops, and Anthony is beside you in an instant. Kissing your face and letting his hands roam all over your body. “You’re amazing. You did so well, so good.” His low voice whispering praises elongates your bliss. Once you’ve sufficiently calmed down, you roll onto your side and capture his lips with yours. 

He pulls you to lay on top of him, your bare chests pressed together sending shocks through your system. He pauses his movements and pulls away, tucking your hair behind your ear. 

For a moment, he looks almost scared, so you grab his hand and kiss his palm, just as he did to you minutes earlier. “What is it, dearest?” You ask in a melodic voice, resting his hand on your cheek and twisting the ring on his pinky. 

He thinks for a moment, eyes never leaving yours, before responding. “You’re the only woman who’s made me feel like this.” He states. You furrow your brows, “How can you mean?” you ask. You know Anthony has been with other women, afterall, he is the Ton’s most notorious rake, so you find it hard to believe that you are the only woman who has made him feel pleasure. 

That same scared look returns to his face, along with a hint of embarrassment. “You are the first woman to tell me what to do in the bedroom.” He begins.

“And you enjoy it when I tell you what to do?” You finish for him, a smug grin spreading across your face. He nods his head as his eyes flick between your eyes and lips, “Very much so.” He responds in a whisper.

“Good,” You say with a kiss to his lips. “Because I very much enjoy telling you what to do.” You sit up on his lap, and for the first time, you can feel his manhood between your folds. 

Anthony can feel everything, the light pulse emanating from your heat, the clenching that happens every time your clit brushes his tip, and he can feel himself floating into bliss. His head feels fuzzy and all he can focus on is you. “Please,” he begs you, sounding disconnected from his own voice. “Please, My Lady, I need to feel you. Please.” The desperate sound of his voice, mixed with the name he’s used on you multiple times tonight rips a moan from your throat. 

“Mmm, you've been so good, listening to me so well. Doing whatever I tell you to.” You’re teasing him now, whispering in his ear as you rock back and forth over his length, lightly nibbling his lobe. 

“Can I touch you? Please Y/N, please let me touch you.” He whines, head thrown back into the pillow beneath him as you rock back and forth faster. You grab the hand that lays by his side, bringing it up to rest over your breast. Anthony immediately starts rolling your sensitive bud between his fingers, causing you to whimper in response. 

“I love it when you beg.” You say to him, slowly lifting your hips and placing him at your entrance, pausing while looking at him expectantly. 

“Please, Y/N. I need to feel you. Wrapped around me, squeezing me in the way I know only you can. Please, please, pl-” His final plea is replaced with a moan as you slowly sink down his length. It's uncomfortable at first, but the pain is replaced with sheer pleasure as your hips move in small circles. A string of incoherent pleas and praises are tumbling from Anthony’s mouth, his eyes locked with yours as his fingers continue their assault on your breast. You place your hands on his chest and begin to lift your hips, slowly at first, until you find a steady rhythm. 

“How do I feel, hm? Oh god, you fill me so well.” You moan as he hits a spot that jolts your entire body. Your legs are growing tired, but you can feel yourself reaching another peak. Your hands roam his chest, tweaking his nipples in the same way he is to yours. His eyes roll back as a long, low moan escapes his mouth. 

“Feels so good, My Lady.” He tells you, moaning when he feels you clench around him. “So, so good. I want you to come while I'm inside you, please, I need it, need you.” He says. 

“You have me. You have all of me, Anthony, always.” You can tell he is getting close, his words becoming less understandable with each lift of your hips. Your hands find their way to his hair, gripping tightly as pleasure wracks your entire body. Your moans are loud, and you can feel your release making a mess between the both of you. 

Anthony practically screams as he finishes. The tight grip you have in his hair, the feeling of you pulsing around him, and your slick release is almost too much for him. He feels overstimulated in the best way possible, spilling inside of you with a muffled cry.

You collapse on top of him, sweaty and worn out. His arms immediately wrap around your body, soothingly rubbing your back. Once you start to regain your composure, you leave soft kisses on his neck, up his jaw, until finally capturing your lips with his. When you pull away, you're met with his bright eyes staring back at you. 

“I love you.” You whisper to him.

“I’ve always loved you.” He responds, sealing his words with a passionate kiss, full of love and tenderness. 

Months later, you’re walking the corridors of Aubrey Hall, hand resting on your swollen belly, heading toward your husband's study. The rest of the Bridgerton Family will be here in a matter of hours, staying for the week to enjoy the countryside with you and your husband. 

You forego knocking on his door, instead just walking right in. You love catching him when he is working. The concentrated look on his face, and the way he bites his bottom lip in contemplation. But the second the door opens he knows it's you, since you are the only person who never knocks before coming into his study. 

“My beautiful wife,” He breathes, happily stepping away from his work so he can get his hands on you. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asks coyly, planting a searing kiss to your lips. 

“My beautiful husband,” you respond, capturing his lips a second time. “Your family should be arriving soon, care to relax with me in the drawing room until they get here?” You ask him, grabbing his hand and leading him out of the study before he can protest. 

“An offer I simply cannot refuse.” He responds happily. 

The Bridgertons arrive shortly after you lure Anthony from his study, Daphne and Violet both fawning over your very obvious pregnancy. You and Anthony got married five months ago, but you are set to give birth any day now. No one has commented on the speedy pregnancy, but Daphne gives you a knowing look. After that first night with Anthony, you simply could not keep it from your dearest friend. 

She pushed for a speedy engagement, but you had no care for what society may think of your improper activities, and no one in their right mind would question Anthony. You know there was gossip, and talks of scandal once word of your pregnancy got out, but you and your husband know it was born from love, and nothing else. 

And that was enough for the two of you.

[fischltao]

Two Birds (Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader)

plot: the jujutsu world welcomes back nanami kento

warnings: SMUT, 18+, MINORS DNI, angst, hurt, swearing, dry humping, swearing, nanami leaves

notes: this took three days and it still sucks yaur

the class had been incredibly loud for her taste as all one could hear was haibara's constant chattering with the upper classmen of jujutsu high. every single sound had been periodically adding up to y/n y/l/n's excruciating headache, plus bitterness, that not even the image of kento nanami in the seat right next to her could lighten up.

y/n y/l/n, the adoptive younger sibling of heaven's chosen one, gojo satoru. as far as she could remember, he had always been in the picture, the two attached by the hip and yet, if asked, noone would have been able to pin point a single similarity that could connect the two as siblings. while satoru was loud, giggly and flirty she was closed off, reserved and strict to herself and those around her.

gojo was the strongest and right after him was y/n. one would have guessed the opposite when introduced to the siblings based on the way each carried themselves, especially the rest of the student body. ieiri utahime had never understood how this menace of a man could surpass y/n in strength when she could be simply walking into a room and having everyone present fear for their lives. even in front of her brother, y/n would always remain closed off and quiet.

only one person had truly seen behind her facade in her entire life and even though it's not like she wanted it to happen, it was just so easy with the way kento nanami looked at her with those beautiful eyes that could easily pierce behind that mask she holding on to for dear life.

you see y/n y/l/n wasn't actually blank, mean and uninterested. she was warm, so warm and kind and had so many things she could talk about for days to no end.

and nanami kento had always been there to listen.

"i'm tired" she mumbled, letting her eyes drift down on her notebook. the words were becoming harder to read by each passing second "are you tired, kento?"

"i slept for a few hours at night but nothing much, could use ten minutes to rest my eyes" kento replied , focusing his attention on his friend, leaning back against the chair. the thing with kento is that he could almost immediately tell when y/n had been overworked when she looked perfectly normal to an untrained eye. he understood her like no other person

"yeah ten minutes sound great"

"when was the last time you slept?"

"oh like, i didnt sleep last night because i had to train and i think i took a small nap the day before, a day at most i would say" she noticed his eyes widening "what?"

"we've talked about this before. you should take more care of yourself"

"no yeah, it's just, i need to be there for my brother and i just cant catch myself being less than enough to protect him when there's a need" and kento hated that. he hated so much how she had been basically raised to sacrifice herself for satoru. it was as if she didn't have a life of her own to live. like her sole purpose of living was gojo's wellbeing. for kento, that was what would be the death of y/n y/l/n "i know you dont like this but theres nothing else i can do"

"i hate it" he whispered back "we should leave"

"leave? class isn't over-"

"i mean it as in leave the jujutsu world behind. go to college and have normal jobs. be normal" looking back at y/n, she looked as if she was about to burst out in laughter, even almost offended that he even had to mention it. it might have been true,being a jujutsu sorcerer wasn't even her dream yet again she couldn't be able to imagine herself doing something else in life. she was born and raised for this "we can live together and-and" the next was almost incoherent, the way he whispered it unded his breath, accompanied by a sigh "and start a family"

"you're funny kento"

and even thought he knew her like the back of his hand, they were two worlds apart.

the first time he kissed her he felt guilty. he felt guilty to have her soft lips on his, being oh so sweet for him and only him. he felt guilty for diving right into her world and salvaging to the pleasure that being called mine by y/n y/l/n was because

because he was leaving soon.

the jujutsu world wasn't meant for him,he concluded, after haibara's death. he couldn't just sit and watch the ones closest to him lose their lives in the worst possible ways one could imagine and he knew they would never follow into that.

he had wanted to stay for her and yet he still knew he couldn't bare to watch her kill herself more and more each day passing by.

that's why he had to leave first. because he knew him walking out would be easier than watching y/n have her guts ripped apart for the sake of gojo satoru.

"you're leaving aren't you? i expected you to at least say goodbye to me" she spoke ever so softly as she always did to him, sitting on the window sill, rocking back and forth before standing up and walking towards kento, who looked surprised, not expecting to run straight into y/n during his escapee plan

"you wouldn't understand" he rushed "i have explained it so many times-"

"go kento" he stopped, taken aback by her coldness.

for the first time in forever,y/n had looked at him the way she looked at everyone else and right then and there, he knew that this was his cue to leave.

because he had just witnessed y/n y/l/n's death.

many years had passed and kento had found himself changing just like the numbers of the years. he looked almost nothing like the boy who left the jujutsu life to chase after a normal, easy life and still, it wasn't as easy and as he had hoped it to be. it was too normal for him. bills,work, overtime,money, work so much work. from time to time he wondered if he had made the right choice leaving and if he did go back, would it still be another bad choice.

kento nanami was drowning in regrets

he wondered how y/n would look at him if he returned. would she look at them with soft eyes or that cold stare he got the night he left.

on multiple occasions he had tried to move on, start a family, however, he couldn't even go past a good fuck,doing what he knew best, leaving. he despised the idea that he had been touched by someone that was not y/n, that he felt the intimate warmth of someone else than the love of his life. he would push off the women and run to wash off any remnants of those who weren't y/n y/l/n. it was sick in his mind how even after all these years she was still there in his mind, lying on a bed naked waiting for him and only him to indulge her. he often wondered, if they thought of him too.

so he drowned himself in work. always going overtime so that he didnt have the time to think about her.

and it just it didn't work.

"nanamin! we're gonna have so much fun together we're gonna be work buddies!" at least gojo hadn't seemed to change during all those years,the strongest man alive with a few screws, scratch that every screw possible loose. its almost as if time had stopped the moment he stepped out of that school and resumed when he stepped back in "oh we should surprise y/n/n shes going to die" god no

"please do not refer to me as that" he sighed rubbing his temples at the childish antics of his senpai who seemingly reeked of excitement "i am pretty sure y/n-san would not appreciate seeing me here after so many years with no contact, it would be preferable sending me on missions without her knowledge on my return"

"oh no nanamin" gojo exclaimed, taking a bite out of his mochi that he made one of his students bring him "behind you"

shit

"brother we have agreed that you are more professional on the recruitments, you are being too eager and everyone takes sorcery lightly until they end up with half their skull eaten by curses-" they scoffed "that or they end up leaving"

"y/n" he greeted holding out his hand for her and it wasnt till then that he took a full glimpse of what they looked like after all these years and in his eyes y/n y/l/n looked the most beautiful thing he had laid his eyes on still.

she had also changed. their high school uniform didn't resemble what they would be wearing at the moment which added to their maturity and energy she was trying to pull off. a white button down tucked into some black high waisted work pants. it was a simple outfit that didn't do a bad job showing off their figure. other than that she looked the same, except from her eyes that now held a tired glimpse.

it's almost as if she hadn't slept ever since that night.

"nanami kento. my brother informed me you were re-entering the jujutsu world" she greeted, holding on to that mask as tight as possible as showing any signs of emotion would reveal weakness, lack of strength.

letting go of it would reveal that she still loved him. that the pain never left. it subsided to a simmering fire scorching her insides until she saw him again after all these years and it was as if he was leaking gasoline into that simmer. for the first time she wanted to scream and ask him why in the hell would he be back after all this time. but all that she really did was keep a monotone voice and carry on with the conversation.

"i'm glad to see you again, y/n, i deeply apologize for-"

"you've changed"

"excuse me?"

"you've changed"

"oh-uhm yes. it was needed for my environment. going to work in economic department with a fringe isn't really a look my bosses would take seriously" he eyed gojo who was just curiously peaking into the conversation whilst indulging his snacks "you've changed too"

"i suppose. i shall get going, i have a tight scedule-"

"i can walk you outside,if youd like me too" he suggested and awaited for her reaction. to a stranger's eyes she had looked the same but he was the one to tell that she was starting to get irritated, he knew her well enough to know the slightest shift in her behavior which would always give her true feelings away. it was almost like a game; how long until her mask falls

"i am fine, i appreciate your offer nanami san" y/n replied sternly, turning on herbheel to head for the door until she felt a hand grasp on her wrist "do you need something?" she really needed him and it was solid proof that if it was anyone elses touch she had felt she would blast them across room. yet it was kento's, kento who remained hers to call even after all these years

"please let me just-"

"back away, nanami, please" she replied sternly, not daring to look at him or her brother.

the mask was crumbled up and the pieces had shattered to the ground.

"i need to apologize for the way i left, i am sorry, if i knew it was going to be like that i would've never left"

"you dont get to fucking say that" she snapped "you dont get to come back after all these years and say this shit as if you couldn't come and see me those all these years" truth be told, gojo was terrified watching the scene unfold. never in his life had he seen his beloved sister act like this and it was breaking his heart noticing the hot tears streaming down y/n's face. it was time for him to leave and let the former pair talk it out "i know what you did, and it wasn't fucking fair. i waited years for you to come back and all that you did was fuck other women as i fucking waited for you"

she wasnt even wrong. nanami could've but he didn't and that alone had been his biggest regret in life.

and it wasnt leaving the sorcery world.

it was leaving her and not looking back. it was screwing other women that resembled her in the slightest only to find a glimpse of what it could've been and still nothing even came close to the greatness that y/n y/l/n was.

"you're being fucking mean to me, kento" kento "you come back after all these years and i don't know what the fuck to do" she took a deep breath in a silly attempt to regain control herself and look as composed as possible "you won't be seeing me much, don't expect anything-"

"it never left"

"what didn't?"

"that ache it never left" she looked at him puzzled and confuded "the ache that is loving you. after all these years"

"you're just going to leave again, it's no use of speaking empty promises and reusing conversations-" god was she fucking stubborn "why are you looking at me like that?"

nanami kento was smiling

"you're rambling"

"no i wasn't? i was just stating facts, i don't get how this could funny to you"

"you were, you still do" and for the moment it was like the earth had ceased all movement only for them and for once in years, y/n had felt the jigsaw fall back into place.

it could have been his soft smile that did it for her or maybe, his voice who was still as magnetizing as it used to be during their prebubescent years, if not even better now that he had grown and matured even more. her perfect boy had grown into the perfect man, she had found herself wondering without even trying to.

she didn't even have to try falling back in love with him because in fact, she never stopped doing so in the first place. sure, she had been angry and mad and had tried to not justify his behavior, yet she always found herself spiraling back, awaiting for the day he would return. and she knew that he would either come back or she'd have to hear from someone else that he could have gotten married to another woman, someone he would call the love of his life that wasn't her and had little nanamis running around a nice apartment in the city of tokyo. but he didn't. he came back to her.

she felt selfish. selfish because she wouldnt be able to give him what he wanted. from the day she had been born and adopted by the gojo clan she had been trained for one and only thing. protecting gojo satoru to the death, something satoru had tried to stop since he loved his sister to death and knew she deserved a good life.

but nanami didn't want a family if she wasn't a part of it. he didnt want little nanamis that had another woman's face. he didnt want to call another woman the love of his life,simply because the love of his life was her, his one and only.

for the first time in years she felt herself turn into a coward, a very un-y/n trait one would say.

"why did you come back?" and part of her hoped that he would say that it was for her. that he was back for her and only her. she watched as he stared deep into her eyes, calculating on whats the best thing to reply as she held her breath and bit her tongue.

"i cant say that i came for you because it would've been selfish of me to do so. i caused you pain and i left you here" god if only a hole would open in the ground and swallow her whole "but i wouldve been a damn fucking liar if i didnt"

fuck you nanami kento, she thought as she smiled softly to herself, not realizing how much time has passed without her saying anything, him taking her silence for rejection

"i wont bother you again, i promise" he continued, sighing heavily, before heading for the door as she snapped back to reality and suddenly, she had him pushed against the door and smashed her lips against his in a fervent kiss.

it wasn't long until he was the one now pushing her against the door, holding her firmly against place and absolutely ravishing her mouth with his tongue.

the kiss had been fast paced and desperate. both had been yearning for this kiss for years and finally, each other's lips had found their righteous place against each other's and they never wanted to be apart again. they were made for each other and with them sealing the love with the kiss, the jigsaw that had fallen into place earlier now seemed to be a perfect fit

"fuck baby" she whined in between kisses as he grinded his hips against hers.

they wanted to absolutely tear each other apart, it had been far too long without each other, both touch starved and in pain of being this far away for so long "fuck keep going"

"yeah?" he whispered back in a low growl, tongue hot against the skin of her neck as he rolled his hips against her, rubbing his clothed cock right into her pussy while his hands roamed all around her body,never staying in one place, needing to feel all of her. upon hearing her whimper back a small yeah in between moans and whines his resolve dissolved even more and more. he hadnt even touched her and yet she was falling apart right there in his arms just by having his cock rub against her through layers of clothing, and to her it felt like absolute heaven. "my girl is feeling good? so so good for me"

"k-kento i-" she moaned " i-i cant, fuck fuck fuck" it was one thing to see the y/n y/l/n from the gojo clan fall apart this hard. the cold and stoic female, going insane on her reunited lover's cock that hadn't even entered her, if she would've been able to think she would've been sure that her ability to speak had been long forgotten.

and as he grabbed and spread her ass cheeks, pushing himself more and more against her she came. she came so fucking hard she sworn she had seen stars. it was as if the world had collapsed right then and there and the amount of pleasure had brought tears to her eyes which soon turned into full blown sobs.

out of all people on earth only nanami kento had the pleasure to witness y/n y/l/n fall apart

"its okay honey, sh, im here now, ive got u baby" he cooed, bringing her into his embrace, where she belonged to, rocking side to side.

"stay" she cried softly against his chest, unaware of the fact that she wasnt the only one, that her kento's emotions were too strong for him to hold on to as he cried silently into her shoulder

"im staying"

two birds on a wire, one tries to fly away

but it doesnt.

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Meeting the Family // Anthony Bridgerton

Request: Hello there, could I please request Anthony bridgerton and reader fic where hes introducing the reader to his family for the first time and shes really nervous but the family ends up loving her more than him? Thanks, I absolutely love your work!! Please dont overwork yourself darling❤ - @lespaceboi

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting! I had so much fun with this request, I love it so so much. I only hope you do too! Lowkey posting this early bc I’m watching the euros final tonight and I won’t have time. 

Warnings: she/her pronouns, female reader, light angst, some worries, lots of fluff, family fluff, Anthony being cute, dialogue heavy, declarations of love.

Word count: 3.6k

Her hands shake uncontrollably as the carriage clatters through London. Taking calming breaths, (Y/N) does her best to stop her shaking hands by gripping her shawl tightly. Her maid, Jayne, looks over at her in concern. “We can always turn back, my lady,” Jayne whispers, “I’m sure Viscount Bridgerton won’t mind postponing to another day.”

(Y/N) smiles warmly at her maid; grateful for the care in her voice. However, she shakes her head. “I’m afraid it can’t wait any longer, Jayne. Anthony’s sister and her husband have travelled all the way from Scotland.”

Jayne sits back against the carriage bench, nodding her head understandingly. “I’m sure it’s going to be fine,” She offers in comfort.

“I can only hope,” (Y/N) whispers, casting her gaze out of window and into the London streets.

She had met Anthony Bridgerton when shopping for ribbons. An unusual time and place to meet anyone, but Anthony had strolled into the shop and asked to see the best ribbons in the place as nothing would be better than the absolute best for his nieces. (Y/N) had giggled at the tone of his voice; unused to seeing such a powerful figure in such intimate settings. Her laughter had drawn his attention to which a conversation began. By the end of the Viscount’s visit to the ribbon shop, he had asked to see her again.

The visits continued in secrecy, or in as much secrecy as one could afford when holding a peerage. The relationship blossomed; what was once considered a friendship was turning romantic, and (Y/N) could not help her feelings for the Viscount. He had captured her, body and soul. She counted every blessing that Anthony felt the same.

The first glimpse of Bridgerton House steals her breath away. The red brick stands out amongst the paler buildings; Anthony’s wealth already obvious but further personified by the sheer scale of his home. The sweet scent of the violet hyacinths perfume (Y/N)’s carriage; their aroma bringing a small smile to her face as she remembers a masquerade party in Chiswick, a balcony and Anthony’s hands on her waist.

Her carriage rolls to a natural stop; (Y/N)’s heart in her throat as she tears her inquiring gaze from Bridgerton House to Jayne. Jayne smiles and squeezes her lady’s hand, a silent offer of support for the afternoon.

“They’re going to love you,” Jayne whispers, bolstering (Y/N) as best she could as the door to the carriage is opened by (Y/N)’s footman.

Now closer, Bridgerton House is much grander. The deep green iron gates pronounce the family’s wealth further. (Y/N) gulps as she takes step after step down the path to already open front door. Her steps falter slightly as she catches sight of Anthony waiting in the entrance; his hair the usual untameable mess that endears her so.

“You came,” Anthony breathes in greeting; his eyes wide with barely concealed surprise as he takes in the sight of her on his doorstep.

“I came,” (Y/N) answers just as breathlessly. Even the sight of him was enough to leave her gasping for breath; there were moments in their prolonged courtship that she couldn’t quite believe he had chosen her, that he wanted her. As Anthony stands there, his white shirt unbuttoned from the collar with his waistcoat undone, she realises that this is the most casual she had ever seen him. His outfit wasn’t proper, but she doesn’t want it to be. She wants to see him from every angle; she wants to know every Anthony there is. So far, she had found herself besotted with each and every one.

Both remain silent as Anthony offers his arm to her. (Y/N) uses the silence to quash the nerves rioting in her gut; she had never been this nervous, not when she was presented in front of the monarch for her season, and not when she danced with the Prince of Wales at his birthday celebrations two years ago. Now, however, her nerves were beginning to get the better of her.

Anthony pauses their journey. “Are you okay?” He asks, a note of concern in his voice.

“I’m nervous,” (Y/N) confesses bashfully, “What if they don’t like me? What if they hate me so much that you end things? I’m having so much fun with you, Anthony. I don’t want this to end.”

“Hey,” Anthony whispers, taking her face in his hands, urging her to look at him, “You’re going to be fine. They’re going to love you, I know it. I’ve spoken about you so much they feel they already know you.”

“You talk about me?” (Y/N) asks, her voice small.

Anthony presses a kiss to her forehead. “Constantly. I’m surprised they haven’t kicked me out with how much I talk about you.”

“You’re really very sweet.”

“Only because of you,” He flirts, pushing his luck by kissing her quickly.

(Y/N) laughs softly against his mouth. “You’re incorrigible.”

Anthony laughs gently, pulling away from her lips but keeping hold of her hands. “I’m as nervous as you,” He confesses, “But I have you by my side to help me get through just as you have me through this too. Any time you want to go, let me know and I’ll call your carriage back round.”

“Thank you,” She whispers before Anthony continues on down the hall, his hand squeezing hers tightly.

“Are you sure you still want to do this?” Anthony asks, double checking, voice wavering as they stand outside the door to the drawing room. “My family can be a bit much to meet all at once.”

“We’re nothing of the sort!” A masculine voice shouts from behind the door.

A surprised laugh leaves (Y/N) lips. She covers her mouth to bring back the mask of perfect decorum, not wanting to insult a member of Anthony’s family. “I’m ready when you are,” She whispers, smiling at the eldest Bridgerton.

“Sooner rather than later,” Anthony whispers before opening the door, giving her the first glimpse at his family.

The Bridgerton brood sit around the large drawing room. Sisters and brothers, husbands and wives – they all mix together as they wait for Anthony and his new beau. Each all fall silent as Anthony and (Y/N) enters the room; their first glimpse of her, their first conversation with her. Anthony had spoken about her constantly but refused to let any family meet her until they were both ready.

Now that moment had arrived.

“Mother,” Anthony introduces to the silent room, “This is Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” (Y/N) exclaims, smiling at the Bridgerton matriarch. “I’ve heard so much about you all,” She continues, casting her gaze around the room.

“It’s a pleasure for us too, dear (Y/N),” Violet announces, “Anthony has been nothing but a ball of nerves since he announced you would be joining us.”

(Y/N) nods at the matriarch, feeling herself become speechless as she takes in the sheer size of Anthony’s family. It isn’t hard to tell who the Bridgertons are among the group are; they each have the same eyes and smile. “It’s lovely to meet you all,” (Y/N) announces, repeating her earlier words, unable to keep the nerves from entering her voice this time.

“I’m Benedict,” The second eldest introduces, jumping up from his seat on the couch, holding his hand out for her to take.

“The artist!” (Y/N) gasps, “I’ve seen some of your work. You’re exceptionally talented.”

“Thank you,” Benedict blushes, excusing himself with a pat to Anthony’s shoulder, a silent sign that Benedict already approves.

“Help yourself to some tea,” A younger woman exclaims in the brief silence between conversations, “I’d get up to greet you, but it would take twice as long as the conversation itself.”

“Please don’t strain yourself,” (Y/N) offers graciously, “Congratulations on your pregnancy.”

“Thank you, dear. I’m Daphne, and this is my husband, Simon.” Daphne introduces, her hand landing on the thigh of a handsome man.

“It’s lovely to meet you both,” (Y/N) greets, making her way to an empty seat at a nearby table. There she pours two cups of tea, one for her and one for Anthony, knowing he would be dropping by in a minute or two. The tea steeps as (Y/N) helps herself to one of the many biscuits, taking a small bite of the buttery concoction before reaching for the milk and sugar. This is a routine she has practiced many times before, knowing exactly how long to stir her tea so it wouldn’t burn the tip of her tongue with every sip.

It’s takes less than two minutes for someone to join her at the table. (Y/N) offers the young woman a polite smile, “I’m (Y/N).”

“Eloise Bridgerton,” introduces the young woman.

“A pleasure to meet you,” (Y/N) repeats, feeling herself already grow tired of the words.

“Are you educated, (Y/N)?” Eloise enquires; her keen blue gaze dancing over the young woman.

(Y/N) finishes her sip of tea before nodding at Anthony’s younger sister. “I am,” She answers, “I studied under a very thorough governess, and I am fluent in French and Latin, but I’ve also been fortunate enough to sit in on some lectures at Oxford and Edinburgh.”

“How?” Eloise all but demands, ignoring the stern stare of her mother as she leans forward, elbows on the table. “You must teach me your ways.”

(Y/N) represses an amused smile at Eloise’s antics. “My favourite cousin, Sylvester, was a student at both. I often annoyed him into letting me attend in secret whenever I visited.”

“Did you attend any interesting lectures?”

(Y/N) nods, happy to further indulge the brunette. “Sylvester was a student of medicine, beginning his education at Oxford before continuing on to Edinburgh where he lives now. I’ve attended a few medical lectures, but I pressured him into letting me attend a philosophical debate surrounding Wollstonecraft’s Vindication of the Rights of Woman.” (Y/N) shakes her head, amused at the memory, “Sylvester didn’t find that one nearly as thrilling as his medical lectures.”

“Anthony!” Eloise calls, gathering the attention of all her brothers, “I’m keeping (Y/N) for myself. You’re going to have to find a new beau, I’m afraid.”

Anthony chuckles, leaving his brothers to their own conversation. “Pray,” He begins, “Just what are the two of you talking about.”

“(Y/N)’s education. Did you know she’s sat in lectures at both Oxford and Edinburgh? I daresay I might attend a few myself.”

Anthony’s hand lands on your shoulder; a warm squeeze has you turning to meet his stare. His smile is fond; his eyes are bright with happiness. “Are you inciting further rebellion in my little sister?”

“Of course not,” (Y/N) playfully scoffs, “Just letting her know that should she want to attend any lectures, I have a connection for her.”

A laugh leaves Anthony’s lips as he catches sight of Eloise’s excited wiggle in her chair. “I’m glad you’re getting along,” He murmurs to (Y/N) quietly, dropping an unexpected kiss to her hair before entering a debate with Eloise, explaining why she cannot go about interrupting lectures at prestigious universities.

Leaving the siblings to their bickering, (Y/N) stands from table, wanting to stretch her legs and discover more to the drawing room. By this point in the afternoon, the appeal of company has worn off. The large family now broken off into their own conversations; Francesca and Michael remain sat close together on the couch under the window, Lady Violet remains sat by her eldest daughter – the matriarch keeping a weather eye on her pregnant daughter.

(Y/N) smiles fondly at the scene before turning to one of the many fixed bookshelves in the room; leather bound volumes line the shelves. There wasn’t much for light reading, she thinks to herself as she reads the spines. Much about the War of the Roses and the subsequent Tudor reign, not much in the way of Miss Butterworth and the Mad Baron.

“You’re very pretty,” A young girl announces from behind (Y/N). She turns to find two girls, both no older than four or five, their hair matching pigtails, curled into ringlets.

(Y/N) kneels to their height, ignoring the pinching of her corset as she smiles at the young children. “Why thank you,” She states gratefully, “But you know what I would really like?”

“What?” The eldest of the two asks, leaning forward in anticipation.

“Gorgeous pigtails like yours,” (Y/N) smiles, gesturing to their hair.

Both girls break into wide smiles, already won over. “What are your names?” (Y/N) asks.

“I’m Amelia,” The eldest states proudly, “I’m five and a half.”

“I’m Belinda,” The second girl introduces, “I’m four.”

“Well it is lovely to meet you both,” (Y/N) compliments, “My name is (Y/N).”

“We know,” Belinda chimes. “Uncle Tony talks about you all the time.”

“He does, does he?” She murmurs amused; catching sight of the brunette doing his best not to intervene on the conversation taking place with his nieces.

Amelia nods. “All the time!” She cries happily. “He talks about your hair, your eyes, your smile.” She breaks off, leaning towards (Y/N) to whisper in her ear. “I think he’s in love with you.”

“Do you think?” (Y/N) questions, unable to keep the eager hope from her voice.

“I know,” Amelia nods sagely, “I heard Uncle Tony tell Mama and Papa.”

(Y/N) presses her lips together to keep the wide smile from growing across her face. She had known that Anthony felt very deeply for her though he had never uttered a word. With a quick glance in Anthony’s direction, she gestures for the two girls to come closer. “Can you keep a secret?”

Amelia and Belinda nod silently; too excited to hear what (Y/N) has to say. “It just so happens,” (Y/N) whispers to the two girls, “That I also love your Uncle Tony.”

“You do?” Belinda squeaks.

“I do,” (Y/N) nods seriously, “I love him very much.”

“Are you going to tell him?” Amelia asks; her blue eyes wide with burning curiosity.

“I think on some level he already knows, but I plan on telling him very soon.”

Both girls squeal in happiness, leaving (Y/N) behind as they run towards their parents. Daphne and Simon greet their children with open arms, wide eyed at their level of noise as they demand their voices to be heard over the hubbub of the rest of the family.

“I don’t suppose you’d enlighten me to this particular conversation,” A warm voice sounds from behind her. The way his arm slips around her waist, as if it were his home, tells (Y/N) that Anthony has found her once more.

“A secret for another day,” (Y/N) teases, turning to face the man that had captured her heart so wholly.

“Will you tell me later?” He asks, pushing out his bottom lip in a pout that has her giggling.

“Perhaps,” She whispers, leaning ever closer to the Bridgerton. “Only if you promise me something.”

“Anything,” He whispers seriously, “I’d give you the world if I could.”

“I know you would,” She murmurs, “But all I’m asking for is for you to not pester your nieces over what I told them.”

“How did you know?” Anthony asks, voice glum.

(Y/N) brings a gloved hand to his cheek, her thumb brushing his cheekbone. “Because I know you, my dear.”

Anthony leans into the touch, turning his face slightly to press a kiss to her wrist. “I like being your dear.”

“I like being yours too,” She replies earnestly. “Now, I’ve spoken to most of your siblings. Do me the honour of introducing me to Francesca, she came all the way from Scotland, it’s rude that I’ve neglected her.”

“Yes, my darling,” Anthony responds, taking her hand and leading her to the couch where Francesca sits with her husband, Michael.

The day continues in a similar fashion. Bridgerton House had never been quiet when the whole family was in attendance; raucous laughter and loving bickering filled its many corners with noise. The life and laughter of the family bringing the house to life.

As the grandfather clock ticks closer and closer to the evening, (Y/N) finds herself lamenting the fact that she must leave the Bridgerton family so soon.

“I must take my leave,” She announces to sad cries to Amelia and Belinda, already so attached.

“So soon?” Benedict asks, frowning as he wonders when he’ll get to continues his conversation with her. So few wanted to talk about art nowadays.

(Y/N) meets Anthony’s gaze, hating how sad he looks. “I’m having dinner with my parents and their friends. An occasion I simply cannot miss, I’m afraid.”

“Do we know them?” Violet asks in an attempt to delay the inevitable. She had grown fond of the young woman over the course of the afternoon, seeing how perfectly she fit amongst her family, how she brought out the best in her eldest son.

“The St. Clair’s?” (Y/N) enquires, drawing her shawl around her shoulders. “My father has worked with Lady Danbury’s family for a long time. Gareth and I are old friends.”

“Have a wonderful time,” Violet announces, “But please visit us soon.”

“I would love to,” (Y/N) smiles, crossing the room to be by Anthony’s side.

Offering her goodbyes to the large family, (Y/N) takes Anthony’s offered arm, hooking hers through his as they descend the grand marble staircase to the foyer. “Your family are lovely,” (Y/N) compliments as she takes care not to trip over her skirts on the stairs. “You all care for each so much, it’s clear the moment you enter the room.”

“My mother and siblings are the best people I know,” Anthony murmurs, walking beside (Y/N) at a steady pace in order to delay her departure by a minute.

“I can only hope they liked me,” She worries, her teeth biting into her bottom lip in a way that has Anthony restraining himself by gripping her arm tighter.

“You were wonderful,” Anthony murmurs, pressing a lingering kiss to her cheekbone before helping her into her carriage.

“Thank you for today,” (Y/N) calls, sticking her hand from the window to prolong the contact between Anthony and herself. She wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye; wasn’t quite ready to leave him.

“Thank you for coming,” Anthony answers, kissing her hand before tucking it back through the window of her carriage. If they didn’t say goodbye now, they wouldn’t say goodbye at all. If she didn’t leave, he would most likely offer marriage on the pavement than somewhere proper.

Nodding to her footman, Anthony watches her carriage leave. He stands on the doorstep to Bridgerton House until her carriage is no longer in sight. Only then does he let himself release the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Weariness washes over him as he turns to face his childhood home. Inside, in his mother’s drawing room, await his family. Each one ready to give their verdict on the woman he has had the good fortune to fall in love with.

Sighing, he kicks at the ground, knowing he cannot delay this any longer.

His mother and siblings are where he left them; his mother’s drawing room. They fall silent at the sight of him; each clearly unwilling to make the leap and be the first to broach the elephant in the room.

“What do you think of (Y/N)?” Anthony asks; voice loud in the ever so silent room. He meets the eyes of each of his siblings, not missing the way Daphne leans into Simon or the way Michael reaches for Francesca’s hand. They’ve all found their love matches; it was now Anthony’s turn.

Colin takes the fall for his family, standing to face his eldest brother and titled peer. He clears his throat, fidgeting on the spot before he eventually pauses all movement, breaking into a smile to declare, “We all loved her!”

“You do?” Anthony asks, falling onto a nearby couch in shock.

Violet smiles at her eldest son. “We do. (Y/N) is a sweetheart and looks to be just as taken with you as you are with her.”

Blush begins to paint Anthony’s cheeks. “I can only hope, dear mother.”

“It’s true,” Amelia chimes, her young face bright with joy. “She told Belinda and I.”

“You have found your love match, my darling boy,” Violet states warmly.

“It does help that (Y/N) is a trifle more tolerable than you, dear brother,” Benedict teases, laughter bright in his Bridgerton blue eyes.

“And so educated!” Eloise gasps, “We had an enlightening conversation about Wollstonecraft’s Vindication on the Rights of Women.”

“She was wonderful with Amelia and Belinda,” Daphne murmurs, her hand falling protectively over her pregnant stomach.

“Why do I get the feeling that you prefer (Y/N) to me?” Anthony murmurs, mischief bright in his eyes and evident in his voice.

“That’s exactly what we’re saying,” Gregory points out, “I only hope (Y/N) can keep up with your obsession with Pall Mall.”

“A worthy obsession,” Anthony argues, mind wandering to the games he could play with (Y/N).

“She’s wonderful,” Violet interrupts, a large smile on her face as she takes the final say.

Anthony smiles widely at his mother; constantly grateful for her love and care throughout his life. She had been lost after the death of his father, as had Anthony, but Anthony had never truly understood what it would feel like to lose someone you love as wholeheartedly as his mother loved his father.

Until now, that is. The mere thought of losing her sends a lance of pain through his chest, cutting short his breath and increasing his panic. Anthony shakes his head to rid himself of such thoughts and feelings.

Calm enough, he faces his family once more. “I plan on proposing to (Y/N),” He announces, showing his family the ring box that has been sitting heavily in his trouser pocket all day.

“Thank goodness,” Francesca murmurs, smiling indulgently at her big brother. “I cannot wait to call her sister.”

“Indeed,” Anthony murmurs, a loving smile on his face, “I cannot wait to call her my wife.”

******

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