#then I made eye contact with Anthony and he grabbed my hand!!!!!

[emometalhead]

I don't think I can talk about anything other than L.S. Dunes now. Like what do you mean I crowdsurfed for the first time and Anthony Green grabbed my hand!?!?!?

[eufezco]

I saw your Bridgerton requests were open !

Can I do one for Benedict they’re courting but suddenly he starts spending more time with Tilly so reader starts to distance herself from him and starts to spend more time with Colin and Benedict gets jealous and pulls her away from Colin maybe they’re dancing or something. And pulls her to another room and apologizes and maybe smut occurs or something as a part of his apology ?

If not that’s ok I thought I’d ask!

YOU BELONG WITH ME

—Are you leaving with Colin? —Benedict asked you in disbelief.

You had been talking with Anthony and Kate about your intentions to join Colin on his next trip and it seemed that the older Bridgerton brother had wasted no time in letting Benedict know.

Now you were in a room of the Queen's palace, alone with Benedict and the piano in the center of it. He had practically begged you to give him a few minutes of your time, had interrupted your dance with Colin, and led you by the hand into that room. You and Benedict were the match of the season so the Queen had managed to distract the other guests while you sneaked out of the ball.

—How is it that you care?

—He is my brother.

You raised your eyebrows, hoping for some further explanation.

—You cannot leave with him —Benedict stated.

You shook your head, keeping eye contact with him. His blue eyes looked back at you and you just wished he could see the anger growing on your face.

—Where have you been these past days, Benedict?

He immediately knew what you were talking about.

It was true that he had not been visiting you during calling hours, he had not asked you out for walks, he had not picked flowers from the garden of Aubrey Hall to bring them to you while he had tea with your mama. He hadn't even bothered to put his name on your card tonight to secure a dance with you.

—I have been visiting a friend —He answered you.

—Since when are you friends with Tilley Arnold?

Benedict huffed a laugh. —Why is it that you care so much?

—Because you were courting me! —If it hadn't been for the loud music in the ballroom you would have sworn that the rest of the guests would have heard you. —A couple of days with Tilley Arnold have been enough for you to forget about me?

—I do not know, perhaps you can tell me since you are the one leaving with my brother to another country —Benedict said ironically.

You shook your head and rolled your eyes. On another occasion, you would have appreciated Benedict's lack of seriousness but right in that moment you were angry and you just wanted to get out of that room. You turned your back on Benedict to leave but on your way to the door, he grabbed your hand and made your body turn to him. Your face showed disappointment and anger and he knew he couldn't let you go like that.

—I apologize if I have ever caused you to doubt how I feel for you.

You took a deep breath through your nose. You were still angry but his words definitely made you feel better.

—My feelings for you have not changed —. He continued saying. Benedict began to walk slowly and you took a few steps backwards trying to escape from him until you bumped your back against the door. That didn't stop him from moving towards you. —And I don't think Tilley or anyone else can possibly change the way you make me feel.

Benedict's eyes moved from yours to your lips and you knew what he was about to do.

—Do not kiss me, Benedict, not now.

He slowly nodded, one of his hands pinched your chin so you would look at him. He gave you enough time so that if you really didn't want him to kiss you, you could push him away. —I am going to kiss you.

—Do not —You mumbled, but your eyes fixed on his lips betrayed the words that came out of your mouth and Benedict pressed his lips against yours. His hands went to cup both of your cheeks and you melted under his touch. How could you be angry with him if he kissed you with such sweetness?

Benedict's hands traveled down your body looking for your ass. He gave you a gentle squeeze and with his grip there, he started to roll up your dress to your hips, exposing your legs and making it easier for you to wrap them around his body.

Your hands were around his neck, helping him to hold your weight and also to deepen the kiss as much as possible. He guided you to the piano, his lips moving with yours and his eyes closed enjoying the kiss, so distracted by the feeling that when he sat you down on the instrument, the lid was up and your ass pressed down almost all the keys. You both jumped off each other, scared, but right after you bursted out laughing.

While you laughed and shook your heads, you got up and pushed Benedict off his shoulders, making him sit on the instrument stool. You rolled your dress up so the fabric wouldn't get in the way once you sat with a leg on each side of his body. Your cleavage was just a few centimeters away from his face and he didn't even try to make eye contact with you when your breasts, so enhanced by the corset, were practically in his face.

—My eyes are up here.

—I do know that—. Benedict said while his hands unbuttoned your dress and undid the laces of your corset.

Your body relaxed once it was freed from the uncomfortable undergarment and Benedict's lips were quick to attack your breasts. You took a deep breath and bit your lower lip, Benedict hummed while his lips left a wet trail of kisses across your breasts. Your hands moved down his body until they reached his crotch, he hissed when your fingers traced the line of his hard cock on his pants. You were quick to unbutton them and he helped you pull down his underwear just enough to free his cock.

His blue eyes were finally on yours, focusing on every little expression on your face. His lips were parted as you pulled your underwear to one side and lined him up against your entrance. You looked into his eyes and your lips half opened as his own which allowed you to share a moan when you gently lowered yourself.

Benedict kissed you again while his hands moved to hold your hips and help you move. One of your hands went to the back of his head and tugged his hair at the root. Benedict groaned but his dick jumped inside you.

—Tell me you're mine. Only mine, Benedict. Tell me I'm the only one.

You pressed your foreheads together while your hand kept a firm grip on his hair.

—I'm yours. Only yours —He said with a moan. His eyes closed shut, your body didn't stop moving up and down his cock, and his hands held you tighter. Benedict tried to catch your lips but you tugged harder on his hair and stopped him. You shook your head, that was not enough, you wanted to hear more. —You're my only one. No other woman shall have me the way you have me —He whined.

That was much better. —Good boy.

You allowed him to press his desperate lips against yours. You also allowed Benedict to set the pace, his hips fucking into you, thrusting from below to match your movements. You moaned in each other's mouths. The music was playing loudly in the ballroom but still, you swore that someone could hear your muffled scream when Benedict sunk balls deep inside you.

He kept fucking you as if he wanted everyone to notice what you two had been doing, alone, locked in some room in the Queen's palace. It was outrageous and Benedict loved it. He fucked you as if, when you finished and walked out of that room, he wanted everyone in the ton to know that his cum was dripping down your legs.

He kept fucking you as if he wanted everyone to notice what you two had been doing, alone, locked in a random room in the Queen's palace. It was outrageous and Benedict loved it. He fucked you as if, when you finished and walked out of that room, he wanted everyone in the ton to know that his cum was dripping down your legs. And by the wrinkles of the delicate fabric of your beautiful dress, they would know that it was going to be very difficult to see Benedict around Tilley Arnold anymore, and by the way Benedict wouldn't leave your side during the rest of the ball, they would know that you had no love interest in Colin Bridgerton.

Benedict would make sure that neither you nor anyone else in society would doubt how he felt about you and would assure that by putting a ring on your finger the next morning.

He came with a deep groan coming straight from his chest. You hid your face in the crook of his neck while your legs shook and you felt dizzy from all the panting. Benedict kissed your exposed shoulder as he gave you enough time to catch your breath. He caressed your back and ran his fingers over the marks left on your skin by the tight corset.

You fixed your position on his lap, sitting with your back straight. Benedict was still inside you, not allowing his cum to come out and go to waste.

—You must know that my wishes to join Colin on his trip to Greece have not changed.

Benedict huffed a laugh and kissed your lips. You smiled as well.

—Then I shall join you two. What would people think if you went alone with him? —By the way he asked it you knew that he meant no harm, instead, the tone in his voice was quite sarcastic.

—Since when Benedict Bridgerton cares about what other people may think?

—Since they would be talking about my wife.

[d4yl1ghts]

pleasure

anthony bridgerton x wife, fem!reader

summary: after a game of pall mall, anthony realises he has been neglecting his wife

warnings: nudity, orgasm, cunnilingus, p in v, fingering, praise kink, expeditionist kink, breeding kink, semi-public sex, breast play, unprotected sex, allusions to anxiety (maybe), arranged marriage, argument, dom!anthony, sub!reader

-

You sighed to yourself as you nervously wrung your fingers out in front of yourself. You were in the carriage on the way to your arranges husband’s manor. You always became anxious when meeting people that you did not know well even if you had already met them once before. Truly, you adored Anthony’s family but it was still nerve inducing.

Your husband sat opposite you, gazing peacefully out of the window. This was how your carriage rides were normally spent. In silence. You are typically quiet anyway and for Anthony it would depend on his mood. However, even when the two of you were alone he refused to speak to you.

Suddenly, the carriage halted and Anthony assisted you out of the carriage but that was the only touching you would ever do. The only night you both had spent together was your wedding night. You made your way to the entrance, hanging behind Anthony a bit. “Mother.”, Anthony hung his head in greeting. “Lady Bridgerton.”, you copied your husband’s actions. She smiled and stated: “Call me Violet, Y/N.”

She then guided the two of you inside. You stood off to the side as Anthony’s siblings welcomed him. Eloise noticed you standing quietly and walked over to you. “Hello, Y/N. It’s nice to see you again.”, she said. “You as well, Eloise.”, you gently smiled. Your eyes strayed to Anthony’s figure and so did Eloise’s. “Has he been annoying you recently? He certainly annoyed me when I lived with him.”, she questioned. “Of course. He wouldn’t be himself if he wasn’t annoying.”, you replied. Eloise laughed slightly and you laughed along with her but it was almost in spite of your husband. You hated him but at the same time you loved him. He certainly hated you.

Benedict then led you all outside for a game of pall mall. You had never played it before and so Colin taught you the rules. “How shall we choose who gets which mallet? I think the guest should get the first choice.”, Benedict stated as he looked to you. Anthony reached out before Benedict hit his hand away. “Not you, Anthony. I’m talking to Y/N.”, he said annoyed. You noticed Anthony’s hand attempt to grab the black one before and so you choose that one just to aggravate him. “Great choice, Y/N!”, Colin chuckled. You turned to look at Anthony and saw his brooding look and tried to contain your giggles.

“Everybody get your mallets.”, Benedict said as they all raced to get their mallet. All except Anthony who was left to the pink one. He huffed in annoyance and you went to stand beside Eloise. “Look at Anthony. There’s practically steam coming out of his ears.”, you laughed. Anthony heard his name and turned to glare at you. You shut up.

“Y/N, you can have the first hit.”, Daphne offered. You slowly walked up and tried to ignore how everyone was focusing on you. You carefully aimed and then hit it. It was just wide of the goal. “That was awful.”, you stated. “Nobody gets it in first try, Y/N. In fact, that was perhaps the best first attempt I have ever seen.”, Daphne responded reassuringly. You turned to move out of the way for the next person’s go and made eye contact with Anthony who looked exceedingly angry compared to before. His eyes bore into you and he looked as if he was trying to decipher something.

It was now Anthony’s turn. He managed to hit your ball onto the opposite side of the field. You rolled your eyes as you began your stroll over. Anthony offered to go with you. You ignored him and continued. He followed anyway. You finally found the ball and noticed your husband. “Why are you following me?”, you blatantly asked. “You’re my wife.”, he simply stated. “Am I?”, you replied. He tilted his head in confusion. “Yes. How would you not be?”

“You do not treat me as such.”, you continued. “We have only ever once been intimate. At our wedding night. You barely even touch me, never mind intimately.”, you sighed as tears pooled in your eyes. He gazed at you. “Is that truly how you feel?”

You nodded, unable to form words. Tears slid down your cheeks. “I did not mean to make you feel as such. I didn’t want to hurt you. I am not made to be a husband or father. I am not made to love or to be loved.”, he responded as water filled his eyes. “But Anthony, you’ve been a father for your whole life. You raised your siblings and you did a great job at it.”, you stared at him with a sad expression. He looked up at you and took in your understanding tone. He gently caressed your face.

You gazed into his eyes. You were both so vulnerable. Anthony’s lips crashed onto yours and you sighed with content. You pulled away for air. “Anthony, please.”, you moaned as you moved your hands into his hair. “Please what?”, he asked teasingly. “Touch me. We have missed a year of this and are yet to make an heir so fuck me like it.”, you bravely admitted. He smirked before inserting two fingers up your dress and into your cunt. He let out a sigh as he felt how wet you were. “Good girl.”, he praised.

You moaned at his praise. “Need more.”, you mumbled. He leant down and pushed his face up your dress and began kitten licking your pussy. You gently guided his head against you. He still had his fingers pumping in and out of you as he licked up and down your slick folds. He felt your walls clench against his tongue and let out a sound that sent vibrations down your cunt. You grabbed the edge of your dress to ease the pressure building up within you.

You felt yourself cum as Anthony made sure to swallow it all. He then left from beneath your dress and licked the last of your slick from his lips. He moved his hands to your corset and his eyes looked to you for permission. You nodded breathlessly. He delicately removed your garments with expertise.

He hastily removed his breeches and released his erection. He bowed down to lick your hardening nipples and he even abruptly bit them. “Anthony…”, you moaned. He heard your desperate cry and lined himself up with your entrance. Slowly, he entered you and allowed you time to adjust to him. He then began to thrust in and out of you. You grinded against him, causing him to fasten his pace as he knew you wanted more.

He rested his head against your breasts and gently kissed them, occasionally leaving love bites. Anthony then adapted his position to reach deeper into you. He felt you tighten around his length and his cock began to twitch at the sudden pressure against him. You let the euphoria take you away and Anthony soon followed. He made sure to continue pushing into you as he came. After all, you had wanted to make an heir. He groaned before carefully and slowly removing himself from you. He rolled off of you and kissed your temple as he moved to hold you.

“Dear, we should probably head back. It has taken us a while to find the ball.”, he chuckled and you tiredly laughed. He put his breeches back on and helped you into your dress. He attempted to do your corset up but he only knew how to undo them, not tie them up and so it was slightly loose. He only hopes his family wouldn’t notice. You started your journey back to the pall mall match with Anthony’s help as your legs were slightly wobbly.

Your hair looked similar to as it had before. Luckily, you had requested your maid to only curl it and add a pin (you weren’t one for all the fuss of doing your hair) and so it was nothing extravagant so it was easy to set it back to how it was. As soon as you arrived back, you realised the game had come to an end. “Who won?”, Anthony asked. “Colin.”, Benedict replied. “Why did you take so long?”, Colin questioned. “You could have won, brother. Actually, Y/N, you could have won.”, he added. Violet came outside to check on everyone as she had heard the conversation. It didn’t take her long to realise what had happened. She glanced at the steady hold Anthony had on you, the slight tone in your cheeks and your legs that looked as if they would collapse at any moment if Anthony’s hold was not so strong. She smiled to herself. She knew that the arranged marriage would work. You two were meant for each other, no matter how you wished to deny it.

[freakyformula]

hola matilda ❤️ i really live the first night headcannon with lando 🤭 if your request is open and if it is not too much, can i please request for something similar with lewis? but maybe about their honeymoon?? thank youu

Hi, I'm glad you liked it! I don't typically do requests but your suggestion is way too good to ignore...

Honeymooners part 1

Summary: You'd been together for 5 years, you and Lewis. And finally, you tie the knot. But you've made a promise that you're scared to fulfill...

Warnings: 18+, smutty, fluffy, kinda angsty at times, mentions of miscarriage and abusive relationships, fingering, oral (both receiving).

Word count: 5,8k

"I, Lewis, take you, Y/N, to be my wife. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honour you all the days of my life."

"I now pronounce Lewis and Y/N, husband and wife. Sir, you may kiss the bride." The officiant smiles.

Lewis, who had been looking at you intensely under the whole ceremony, not letting you out of his sight, licking his lips, shifting his weight between his legs, now crashes into you, giving you the sweetest kiss you'd ever received.

Your whole life flashes before your eyes and you couldn't quite work out how you got this lucky. You hear the guests cheering in the background but for now, it's just you and him. Your very own Lewis.

When you part, Lewis looks away at his parents, knowing that both his mothers would be crying, and he was right, both of them held a neatly folded tissue in their hands, wiping the edge of their eyes every few seconds. Lewis' dad, Anthony, on the other hand, stood there, proud as ever, giving you both a reassuring nod.

You're given a final blessing by the officiant, while the guests leave the church.

"Y/N, Lewis. Let's do a couple of photographs here." The photographer mentions as she helps you into the poses she wants you in and starts clicking away. You're looking you at him while he holds you, and you can't help breaking out into laughter.

"What?!" He laughs with you.

You turn away from the photographer, with him following. "You've never looked more handsome, sir." Your words make his cock twitch in his pants.

His head turns around to the photographer to check if she's at a comfortable distance before he leans down to you. "Ooooh, dear. I'm gonna make you call me sir for the rest of my life." He says, his voice shushed so the photographer won't hear.

"Good, I think I'm happy with that!" She smiles at you both and walks off with hurried steps.

"Do you think we scared her away?" Lewis looks down at your smaller figure, giving you a wide smile.

You offer Lewis a mischievous smile as an answer, him knowing that you would have scared her away in order to get some alone time with your man if he didn't.

"So, Mrs. Hamilton... How does that feel? Me calling you Hamilton?" He huffs, surprised by the way those words rolled off his tongue himself.

"I'm so happy, Lewis." You whisper as you take a step closer to him, pressing yourself against him, and him holding you in place, not breaking eye contact.

That feeling hits you again, the feeling of no one else being there with you, it's as if you're in your own bubble of love; pulsing, burning. "Shall we?" Lewis interrupts your thoughts.

"Yeah." You smile, and he grabs your hand, giving it a squeeze.

As you walk down the cathedral aisle with Lewis leading the way, you can't help but admire him. He looked stunning, dressed superbly, and his custom-made suit suited him like a glove. He must have noticed you staring because he pulls you in and places his hand on your hip.

"You okay, love?" He asks. God, that nickname made you weak. "Yeah, yeah." You try to sound confident and assuring, but the words come out weak. He nods as an answer, and when you exit the big wooden doors, the visitors toss rice and flower petals at you. Even if you were aware of the tradition, you are startled. Lewis yields and willingly stands in his spot while grains of rice wash over him.

You cover your head instinctively and Lewis seems to notice, pulling you closer. You snuggle into his armpit, smelling his cologne. The smell of his shoots a wave of delight down to the pit of your stomach, reminding you of what was to happen on your honeymoon.

You both knew that you wanted your first time to be during your honeymoon. You'd been adamant on waiting when you and Lewis first started dating and Lewis wasn't the one to push, it was the other way around, just because he knew your wishes. He would be the one to disengage whenever your makeout sessions got too heated.

You greet your families and friends warmly, all of them smiling widely and complementing you on how good you look.

"Congratulations, you both!" Your mother exclaims while wiping a tear with a tissue. Lewis shakes hands with your father and makes small talk. Your father and Lewis had a special bond, he knew Lewis was the right man for you after the first time they met, 4 years ago.

"She needs someone like you." He said at the time, and you were sure he would agree with his words now too.

"Oh, my baby!" Your father coos as he walks up to you. "You look so beautiful, but you always do." He rambles while hugging you tightly.

You direct your guests to the venue to continue the festivities. Your dad had loaned out his original Beetle he drove when your mother and he got married. It felt sentimental getting into it and driving off, knowing that your parents sat in it at some point, celebrating their marriage.

When Lewis starts the car and drives away, he maintains his hand in your hands while you fumble with his fingers nervously. This continues until Lewis grabs a hold of your hands with his bigger hand, which brings you back to a state of peace. You shoot him a look, you know he noticed but he deliberately chose not to look your way.

"It's okay, Y/N. No need to be nervous." He finally says as he languidly strokes your hands with his thumb.

You take a deep breath. Breathe. You really had no need to be nervous, but you hated being the centre of attention. Luckily, it was only for one night.

You are taken aback when you arrive at the location, which is a stunning garden that is brimming with roses and lilies and features a greenhouse in the centre of the area. You had been on a visit here a couple of months ago, but you did not recall it being quite as spectacular as it is now.

Lewis helps you out of the car, and you see the rest of the guests starting to arrive. As the guests get seated at their designated places, you take some more pictures in the garden. The day was warm, but not enough to make you sweat and the sun kept disappearing behind clouds only to come back with its warm rays.

"You're looking immaculate." Lewis whispers, making you blush. You swat him playfully, making you, him, and the photographer laugh.

The inside of the venue was beautifully decorated with fresh flowers from the garden, living candles on the tables, and string lights hanging from the roof as the only light source, making it incredibly cosy.

As both of you get seated, the wedding planner announced the schedule for the night; First, food. Then, cutting the cake, and last but not least, a toast. After that, the guests were free to party all they wanted, but you and Lewis had other plans.

The food was made by one of the best restaurants Lewis knew of, offering both vegan and meat options in the buffet.

"Do you like it?" Lewis asks, sounding genuinely concerned if you like the food or not.

"Best food I've ever had." You admit as Lewis strokes your back, his hand sliding lower and lower.

The cuisine was genuinely extraordinary, and you had to resist the impulse to overeat in order to leave room for the dessert. Dinner came and went, and the guests ate to their hearts' content, complementing the meal.

Every time you glanced over to Lewis, you catch him staring, but he would simply shrug his shoulders. "What, you can't really blame me, I'm sat next to the most beautiful woman in the world after all."

You huff, "Sweet talker...", before you lean in and give his cheek a kiss, earning a chuckle from him. He turns his head, looking straight into your eyes. You don't dare to move, you're locked in place as he leans in closer to you, your lips only a few millimeters apart. "I can't wait until tonight, sweetheart... The things I want to do to you, I can't even say out loud." His words make your stomach twist, and you almost choke on the cider you were sipping.

"I'm concidering this foreplay, Lewis. Starting off already?" You tease.

"Gotta get you ready, baby..." He coos before he closes the gap and catches your lips in a tender kiss.

"Y/N, Lewis, time to cut the cake!" The planner announces.

The cake cutter is vibrating in your hand as you hold it. All of the guests were bunching up next to your and Lewis to catch a glimpse of the precious moment. Lewis notices the way you're shaking, and places a comforting arm around your shoulder.

Lewis couldn't help smiling at you and smearing a bit of the frosting on your nose, just to have an excuse to lick it off.

The cake, a vegan coconut cake, was even better than the food. You thanked yourself for saving some space for it.

"Ladies, gentlemen. I'd like to propose a toast to my beautiful wife, Y/N..." Lewis starts. "Y/N, you are the love of my life. You renewed my faith in true love, and I feel so honoured to be your man. I will do everything in my power to make you happy. I love you." He concludes as he looks over at you with sincerity in his eyes.

You can hear the rest of the crowd murmuring in the background, but you're focused on him. You can feel yourself getting choked up and quickly grab a tissue to wipe away the tears that are threatening to ruin your makeup.

"To Y/N." Lewis raises his glass with the rest of the crowd.

"Also, Y/N and I regret to inform you that we will be leaving in a moment. We haven't told any of you but we're travelling to Italy tonight." Lewis admits, followed by protests from both of your parents, them pleading you to reconsider.

You and Lewis had a couple of destinations planned for your honeymoon, first off; Milano. After that, the Maldives, and lastly, Cancun, Mexico.

You knew they wouldn't approve of your plan to depart early, which is precisely why you had kept it a secret. However, they soon understood that they couldn't force you to change your opinion and let you go. You hurriedly snapped pictures with the visitors and bid them farewell, giving each person a hug and a kiss.

You quickly changed into a sundress that you would be travelling in and grabbed your things, your phone, lip balm, and your wallet and put them into your purse.

When you got outside, a man in a suit was waiting for you. He led you and Lewis, who was holding you tightly, to the black SUV. As soon as you got in, Lewis' hand was on your thigh, carefully pulling on it like he wanted you to move closer to him without saying so. You weren't even at the plane yet and Lewis was already seemingly desperate to have you. You spend the trip to the airport in silence, with the driver saying a few words now and again.

Lewis wasn't the one to waste the planet's resources but if he was ever going to use a private plane, it was on his wedding night. As you stepped outside, you gasped. You had no idea of his plans to travel private. As you step inside into the grand aircraft, you gasp even louder. It was luxurious, with wide seats, and was even equipped with a bed.

"I thought we'd spend our first night as newlyweds comfortable..." Lewis whispers in your ear as the flight attendants introduce themselves.

"Thank you, that will be all." Lewis cuts the flight attendants off and closes the door.

"Lewis..." You warn.

"Yeah?"

"That was rude."

"I want you all to myself, is that bad?" Lewis asks.

"You have the rest of your life to spend with me."

"That's not enough though. I want forever." He quickly counters.

You sit down in a seat. Lewis is frozen to where he is standing, staring you down, processing the situation, perhaps working out a plan for how to get you in the mood. He really was needy, you could see the lust in his eyes, and you notice the bulge in his pants that he was trying to hide.

As the plane finally takes off and you get to unfasten your seatbelts, Lewis walks over to the bed and collapses on it.

"Sweetheart, come here, I miss you already!" Lewis whines.

You groan and get up, walking over to the ridiculously large and plush bed. When you get to the edge of the bed, he sits up and before you can react, he has pulled you down on the bed with him.

He supports himself on his elbow and looks down at you, making you slightly blush. You hide your face in your hands, but Lewis is quick to grab them and give your pink cheek a kiss, making you blush even further. Sure, you were used to Lewis being touchy and sweet but this was a new level.

"Shit, love, you're gorgeous like this. Under me." He whispers as his lips brush past your ear. His movements are slow and deliberate as he moves on top of you.

"Lewis..." You moan.

"Shhh, baby, we have to be quiet, remember?" He whispers as you cover your mouth, embarrassed. He chuckles and moves his hands down your chest, to your stomach, all the way to your hips. "Fuck, can't we?" He begs.

You trusted Lewis fully, it wasn't that. But you were unsure of how being intimate with Lewis would feel like to you.

In your youth, you had a boyfriend that didn't treat you right. He would abuse you physically, mentally, financially, and sexually. You found out that you were pregnant and at the time, you were overjoyed. He was not, though. He was enraged. He wanted to get rid of it but you refused. His solution? Kick you in the stomach until you miscarried. This event made you finally break up with him and place a restraining order. But that wasn't much of a solace when you just lost a baby you so dearly wanted.

Lewis knew of all of this, and he would comfort you whenever you needed him to, and that was why initially fell for him. The first night you spent together, about 5 years ago, you had a bad dream about the continuous kicks and blows to your body and Lewis woke up from you kicking and struggling. He didn't need to know why, he just pulled you closer and held you until the struggling stopped and you went back to a comfortable slumber.

And you didn't blame him, you had agreed that you would start being intimate when you got married. And now you were a married couple, so there was nothing wrong with him wanting you, but you were unsure how to express your sexuality. This was all new to you. With your ex, you didn't really get to communicate your needs and wants, meaning the things that you liked and wanted to try were left within yourself.

You answer him with a kiss, which he enthusiastically accepts. You grab his wandering hand as it travels a little too low for your liking. "What's wrong, love?" He asks worriedly. "Nothing, just..." You start, not knowing how to explain yourself or knowing how to even word yourself correctly.

You were desperate to start your love life with Lewis. But at the same time, a single thought was plaguing your mind.

What if you end up the same way again?

Which was ridiculous, because you knew Lewis and you knew he would never treat you the same way your ex did.

Lewis seems to notice your thoughts racing out of control and gives you a lengthy kiss on your forehead. "What is going through that pretty head of yours?" He asks.

"I don't know, Lewis, guess I'm just scared."

Lewis tuts. "Babe, there's nothing to be scared of. You know I will never hurt you, or do anything you're not okay with."

"I know, Lewis." You say, pulling him into your arms. "I really want to, you know."

"I know, darling, I know." He sighs. "What do you need me to do?"

"Nothing, Lewis, you're already doing enough." You whisper as you're pulling on his beard. You feel his hands wandering all over, and you feel your core growing wetter and wetter as he strokes your thighs and hips.

"Can I feel you?" He asks, and you nod shyly. He gives you a smile and sits up on his knees. His hands move under your dress, pulling it up in the process. Your thighs and clothed heat his exposed in the process. This was nothing new, you had seen each other naked before. But it still made you nervous, which Lewis noticed. "This is nothing I haven't seen before, remember?"

His hands move up with the dress exposing you even further. You pull it off with Lewis' help, leaving you in your lace bra and panties.

"Please, Lewis..." You plead.

"What do you need, babe?"

"Need... you."

Lewis stops what he's doing and looks at you with blown eyes. "Fuck."

He invites you into a sweet kiss which quickly deepens into a messy makeout session. His tongue licks your lips, hoping you will allow him access, and you do, you open your mouth willingly. His tongue enters and explores your mouth, touching you in places you thought he'd never touch.

As his hand moves over your underwear, you lean into his soft touch. His fingers grow bolder and brush over your mound and down to your heat.

"Oh god, you're drenched." He seems surprised, as if he didn't have the biggest influence on you. His fingers find their way to each side of you, slowly pulling your underwear down and exposing you fully in the process. You instinctively clench your thighs together.

"Don't be shy, let me see you." Lewis coos, moving his hands inside your thighs, softly spreading them. When he sees your glistening pussy, his breath hitches.

"Oh, baby... So wet for me already. Can I touch you?"

You don't answer, you don't feel the need. Instead, you take his hand and steer it to your heat. You take a moment to feel the wetness yourself, with Lewis. His fingers easily slide up to your clit and down to your hole, spreading your arousal.

"Are you this desperate for me?" He asks.

"I've been needing you since forever, Lewis, I thought you knew?" You tease.

"Does that mean you're ready to...? You're sure?" He asks, his voice wavering.

"I'm 100% sure. I want to try." You say as your hand moves down from his strong chest to his stomach, feeling his strong abs with your fingertips. Your hand continues travelling down to his crotch, where his growing member is already poking through his baggy jeans.

"No, Y/N. I want our first time to be special, not on a plane." He says as he grabs your hand. "But I wouldn't mind making you feel good..." He adds suggestively while teasing your entrance.

"Please, Lewis..." You whimper, pulling his hand closer. You gasp as his finger first enters you. "Shhh, relax." Lewis tries to comfort you. It didn't hurt, but the feeling of him inside of you after all those years surprised you.

He pulls his finger out and slides it in again. He scissors and pulls on you to stretch you out for him to add another finger. When he deems you ready, he adds another finger. The feeling makes you yelp, but the pain quickly subsides and turns into something more... Primal, in lack of a better word. All the matters at that moment is him and his fingers stretching you out. He begins to work you towards your first orgasm while you relax into his touch.

You had cummed before, but not by a man, but by your own hand. You would be surprised if Lewis actually managed to make you cum.

His hands are experienced. His fingers curl up towards your G-spot, which he managed to find within seconds while his other hand is pulling and rolling your nipple between his fingertips. You feel a warmth in your stomach that could only mean one thing; You were getting close. "How did yo..." You start, but he covers your mouth, shushing you, urging you to just relax and take it.

His hand stays put over your mouth as you get closer to your release, and you start breathing heavier which Lewis notices. He leans down to you, "remember, we need to stay quiet, can you do that for me?". You nod, looking deep into his beautiful brown eyes, and they smile down at you as an answer. "Good girl." He says.

When you feel yourself creeping dangerously close to release, you pull away from his tender touch. Lewis shoots over you quicker than ever and studies your face. You're scared, he can see that much.

"What's wrong, love?"

"I-I'm not sure. I guess I'm scared of showing you how dirty I am."

Your words made his heart weep. He wanted to rip the man that made you think this apart. He had no right to do this to you, to hurt you this way.

"Sweetheart... Me making you feel good doesn't make you dirty in any way. It's just natural to want to make the other person feel good."

His reassurance makes you relax again and you open your legs for him, while he rubs circles on your hips in a desperate attempt to soothe you. "Ready?" He asks.

"Yeah..." You confirm. And when he starts stimulating your inner walls again, you close your eyes shut, while gasping for air. You're so close at this point, but not quite getting over the edge. Just when you're about to give up and kick and scream in defeat, you feel his mouth on your clit, immediately sucking itself in place. As his tongue flickers on your clit, and the fingers pump your squelching pussy, you feel yourself getting even more aroused and without you being ready for it, you cum.

Lewis has his hand on your mouth quickly, and you bite down on his finger in order to not scream your lungs out. The feeling inside of you is overwhelming, and the fact that he didn't stop made it all worse, or better, depending on how you choose to perceive things.

"Jesus, Lewis!" You whisper while sounding somewhat angry.

"What, felt good didn't it?" He teases.

"Yeah..." You admit in defeat.

When you land in Milano, you quickly get off the plane and drive towards the resort you were set to stay at. At the check-in, Lewis holds you in his arms protectively, even though he sees two guards standing at the entrance. Lewis was like that, always making sure you were safe. You get the keys to your very own small cabin and start the walk down the street of the resort.

"I'm so tired." You complain.

"I've got you..." Lewis says as he picks up up into his strong arms.

You hum contently. "My hero."

You almost drift off to sleep as he carries you down the street to your cottage. It takes a while for Lewis to find the right one, but when he does, he opens the door, with you still in his arms. How he managed, you have no idea.

"Hey, we're here." Lewis whispers to you as you are awakened from your soft slumber. He lets you down carefully and you stumble back into his arms, fatigue taking over every cell in you.

"Let's get you to bed, love." He chuckles. He helps you undress and lays you down with care. He follows soon after, pulling you close. You don't notice though, as you're already drifting off to sleep.

"Love you, Y/N." You hear him whisper. You're too drowsy to answer, so you simply let out a hum.

You're awakened by birds chirping outside your window. You reach out to the other side of the bed, only to find it empty.

"Lewis?" You call out for your man.

You look around the room for him, with no luck. You sit up in the bed, and finally see the room you and Lewis have spent your first night as a wedded couple in. You get up from the canopy bed and call out for him again. You hear a "yeah?" from the bathroom, and before you have the chance to react, Lewis appears with a panicked expression. Seeing him made your heart swell, and when he sees you're okay, he walks towards you with a towel wrapped around his waist.

"Sorry love, took a shower and I didn't hear you call out at first."

He leans in and gives your forehead a morning kiss.

"I think I should shower too." You admit, feeling grimey from last nights flight, and not to mention the wedding itself.

"I wasn't finished, join me?" He pleads. You nod and follow him into the bathroom. Lewis helps you undress your tee and underwear he had helped you put on the night before. When the cool water hits your skin, you can't help but gasp. The coolness descends into your heart which is pleasant, and calming. You hear Lewis stepping inside and you turn around to face him, only to find him shining like a sun, smiling wider than you had ever seen him smile.

"What's got you in such a good mood today?" You ask.

He takes a small step closer, closing the gap and pressing himself against you. You feel his morning erection against your stomach and you take a step back to look at the spectacle. When you see his length, you cross your arms in nervousness. No way that was going to fit in you. "Lewis... That thing is never going to fit." You admit.

Lewis chuckles, "we'll make it fit."

You gulp, and reach out to touch it. You had to remind yourself that this was nothing new, you had seen and touched him before. When your fingers reach around him, he sighs contently and closes his eyes, making you look up, worried that you had done something wrong. The sudden lack of movement on your part makes him look down at you again.

"Feels so good, baby... Keep going."

And so you do. The feeling of your small hands around him drives him close faster than you can register. When his hands shoot up to yours, you stop. "Slow down, love, I'm about to cum already."

You decide to not use your hands. You give him a questioning look as you get down on your knees, never breaking eye contact. "Y/N, you don't have to-" He starts.

"But I want to." You respond before he has the chance to finish his sentence. You look down at the length and grab his member, taking his pulsing tip into your mouth. You close your lips around him, while you hear him hiss, as he grasps the handle to the shower door to steady himself.

He deserved this, he really did, everything he'd done for you... You couldn't begin to describe your gratitude towards him. You wanted to thank him and give back for what he did to you last night.

The more you take of him into your mouth, the longer the pauses between his breaths get. The profanities that exit his usually sweet-talking mouth surprise you and you look up at him with his cock in your mouth, locking eyes with him. The sight of you with him in your gape pushes him over the edge, and he quickly pulls you off him. You release him with a pop and stick your tongue out, remembering what he said the night before, you're not dirty, it's natural. You feel warm splurts of his cum landing on your face and in your mouth and Lewis groans at the sight of you taking it for him.

Lewis slides down to sits next to you, both of you out of breath, but very happy and content simultaneously.

Lewis and you finish up your shower, with Lewis helping you shampoo your hair, and insisting on scrubbing your body clean.

After breakfast, you go out to see a bit of Milano, before taking off to the next destination; The Maldives.

When you get to the airport, the private plane is already waiting for you to arrive. The flight attendants are the same as yesterday; hopefully, they were unaware of your activities the night before. When you're seated and ready, the plane takes off.

The flight is long, but you finally make it to your destination early in the morning. When you step outside on the smaller airport, the sea air hits you. You find your guide that takes you to your bungalow.

"So for how long are you planning on staying again?" He asks.

"7 days, we're honeymooning." Lewis answers.

The guide answers by nodding, and you continue your journey.

"Here we are. Your very own, private house. No neighbours closeby." The man says as you all look around.

It was in the middle of nowhere. Where the hell had Lewis taken you? But as soon as you saw the interior of the house, you change your mind. It was beautiful, and even had a pool in the back garden. This place was ideal, and calm. Perfect for you two.

When the guide leaves and you're left alone, Lewis walks up to you. "What do you think?"

"I love it, Lewis!" You try to contain your excitement as you jump up and down in his arms.

"I thought this would make you relax..." He whispers... His hand moving a strand of hair off your face, making you freeze. "So beautiful." He coos while brushing your nose with his lips.

"Lewis..." You warn, him tearing down your walls faster than you can even react. You stay like that, in what feels like the embrace of the earth, and you're being swallowed whole.

He guides you outside, towards the blue water, and you willingly follow. His shorts drop, along with his underwear. You giggle nervously as he finally tears off his tee, and walks out into the water. When he turns around to face you, he smiles, "Come on, love!" with his member swinging freely between his legs.

You're standing on the white sand, watching as he's dipping his head into the water and relishing in the warm hold of the water. The thought of skinny dipping made your insides tingle, "ah, fuck it" you whisper to yourself as you unbutton your denim shorts. Lewis won't let you out of sight as you undress, and he can feel himself growing hard.

When your toes touch the water, you are surprised by how warm it feels. The warmness completely envelops you and you melt into it. Then, you feel Lewis' arms holding you up and you collapse into his chest. "One, two, three!" He counts as he dips you under the water playfully, wetting your hair. When you make it above the surface again, you gasp for air and burst out laughing. "You fuck!" You yell as you spit out the water from your mouth.

As revenge, you splash him with your hands, and Lewis, with his sharp reflexes, avoids the incoming water.

You spend hours in the water; playing, kissing, and turning innocent touches into something else. Something more heated.

When you get up, you're both famished and exhausted. As Lewis is busy preparing dinner, you sit on the sofa overlooking the blue horizon, the indian ocean. Lewis insisted on cooking dinner himself. He knew how tired you were after travelling all night. When you get up, you walk past the large bookcase and the books in it catches your eye. Shakespeare, Tolkien, Nabokov, Fitzgerald... Impressive, you think to yourself.

"Find something you like? Maybe you can read something to me later?" Lewis asks.

"It's like a mini library... It has everything." You say absent-mindedly.

Lewis chuckles and continues cooking while you choose a book for later. Why does your mind decide on Dante? You have no idea. He does not seem like the right kind of author to decide on when you're on a honeymoon. But it felt right, and the book, Inferno, didn't let you down. It was comical; Lewis and you burst out laughing a couple of times as you got past the introduction. You must have read for 2 hours, before you dozed off, nestled up to Lewis.

He lifts your light body up and carries you to the softness of the bed, and tucks you in for the night. He spends a while just taking your beauty in. A tear escapes, and he is quick to brush it off his face. He is afraid of failing; failing you, your marriage, and your unity. You are awakened by his sobs. You are swiftly next to him to comfort him.

"I'm so sorry, love. Didn't mean to wake you up." He cries. You do not answer. You wrap your arms around his neck and hold him, pulling him down next to you. And you fall asleep like that, with Lewis snuggled into your chest and your arms around him.

The rest of your time in the Maldives is spent swimming, sun bathing (including a nasty sunburn...), lots of cuddles and kisses, and stolen glances.

But nothing happens. Both you and Lewis seem too scared to even bring it up. Sure, you touch each other and you spend each night pleasuring one another. But the next step... Never comes.

"Lewis..." You speak on the last night in your cozy bungalow, before you're departing to Mexico, your last destination. "Why haven't we done it yet?"

"What?" He asks absent-mindedly as he is scrolling away on Instagram. When you don't reply, he puts away his phone, looking up at you. He sighs and thinks of a way to say what is on his mind. "I... I want to wait for the right time, Y/N. I don't want our first time to be rushed."

"But I'm ready..." You say as you reach out for him. He takes you into his arms and holds you until you fall asleep, not letting go.

[dumbseee]

just friends, right?

when you and daniel are just friends, or maybe more?

daniel ricciardo x reader.

fc: kendall jenner.

liked by y/n, landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 1 729 991 others.

danielriccardo: happy birthday to the light of my life (and the bane of my existence.)

_

fan1: anthony bridgerton said the same thing about his future wife 🤭

fan2: the whole world knows except them

fan3: JUST DATE UGHHH

fan4: drop the act and get married omg

landonorris: mommy and daddy <3

fan5: not lando shipping them too

fan6: i just know his camera roll is full of her

maxverstappen1: @.fan6 it is.

fan7: AAAHAJJSOSLSOPXPCPC

fan8: not lando AND max exposing them

fan9: they’re so meant to be

fan10: "the light of my life" when is someone going to refer to me like this??

fan11: daniel is so sweet with y/n :(

fan12: mind you he posted that one minute before midnight so he could be the first one to wish her a happy birthday :((((

view all comments.

you were dancing along the music with your girls when you suddenly felt a presence behind you. you were in a crowded club with some friends to celebrate daniel’s return to the grid as a driver for alpha tauri. you turned around to face the guy who clearly was seeking your attention and you smiled when you saw a cute blonde guy smiling back at you. the two of you started dancing together, his hands on your waist and yours around his neck. he was cute, and you could take him home with you but something was off. your mind tried to think of why but your heart already knew.

suddenly, the guy was ripped away from you and pushed far back. you blinked in confusion and saw daniel, now standing in front of you, he glared at the guy before returning his attention to you. his usual warm smile was gone and his eyes were now cold. "what is wrong with you?" you yelled over the music. he didn’t respond but instead he grabbed your wrist and dragged you out of the crowd. he ignored your complaints and finally stopped when you two were now in the parking lot. "care to explain what’s gotten into you, joseph?" you crossed your arms. he took a step closer to you which made you frown and almost take one back. "he was too close to you for my liking." you scoffed and laughed at his answer. "so what? you’re not my dad." you rolled your eyes and tried to go back inside the club but daniel blocked you again. "then what am i to you?" he asked in a low tone, sending shivers all over your body.

"daniel. you’re my-…" he cut you, closing his eyes and pinning you against the wall. "say that we’re just friends, i fucking dare you." you looked at him, completely lost, your cheeks were burning hot because of the way he was looking at you and how close the two of you were. your lips remained shut as you didn’t know what to say, you knew daniel your whole life, he was your best friend, your favorite person on earth, basically your soul mate. in all those years or friendship you did question your true feelings for him, but you never crossed the friendship line. what you had with daniel was too precious to ruin it because of your feelings. "say it, y/n." he repeated, you swallowed and closed your eyes, keeping the eye contact was way too hard for you. you couldn’t see it but seeing you being so flustered made daniel smile, he was happy to see the effect he had on you, and that his feelings weren’t one sided like he feared. "can i kiss you?" you opened your eyes and nodded slowly. daniel gently kissed your lips, his hands resting on your hips while you wrapped your arms around his neck, pushing yourself against him. the kiss grew more passionate, more eager.

you dreamed of that moment for years, you couldn’t believe that it was finally happening. you were kissing your best friend, and it felt right.

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, isahernaez and 729 019 others.

y/n: random dump because i still don’t have a jpg account to empty my camera roll

_

fan1: AAAAAAH THE CUTIES

fan2: the first couple pictures we get 🥺

fan3: that’s mom and dad right here

isahernaez: finally!!

maxverstappen1: @.charles_leclerc you owe me 100€ man

charles_leclerc: damn it

fan4: NOT THE BOYS MAKING BETS ON THEM

fan5: y/n was already the queen of wags even before she became a wag

fan6: their love story is the cutest ever

fan7: who said friends to lovers was a boring trope because look at THEM

fan8: the speech he did after his first race since his hiatus, when he thanked her was so cute tho

fan9: i just hope it won’t end badly bc their friendship was superior

fan10: now be happy

fan11: YESSSSSSSS

view all comments.

taglist: @ferrariloverr

[amethystarachnid]

CHRISTMAS PROPOSAL

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Holiday special

ᯓ★ Request: Fantastic event 😍 I want to make a request for Fem reader + Tony Stark, please! "Christmas morning surprise", breakfast in bed made by Tony, a surprise gift: Tony proposing the reader and saying the most beautiful things and cuddling by the tree later, drinking hot cocoa 😍 (@heygoodgirly)

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 4.8k

ᯓ★ Summary: Tony Stark has never been one for romantic things but for you, oh, for you he'd become the most romantic man on earth. And that's exactly what he's trying to be as he gets ready to pop the question

ᯓ★ TW(s): fluff fluff fluff

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The morning light spills softly through the gaps in the curtains, painting warm streaks of gold across the bedroom. You’re cocooned in the blankets, your face nestled into the pillow, completely oblivious to the world. For once, there’s no sound of the whirring gadgets or the mechanical hum of some early-morning project Tony’s working on in his lab. The quiet feels suspicious. But you don’t wake, not yet.

Downstairs, the man himself is pacing. Stark Tower—or what’s now become a semi-permanent Stark-and-You Tower—is unusually serene, save for the sound of Tony muttering to himself. In the kitchen, an array of utensils clutters the countertop. Pots, pans, and a suspiciously stained cutting board bear evidence of an attempt at cooking. Actual cooking. Not JARVIS ordering the latest Michelin-starred meal.

“Okay, okay, just… flip it gently,” Tony says under his breath, staring down a pan like it’s a volatile science experiment. His hair is a mess, and there’s a smear of flour on his cheek that he hasn’t noticed yet. “How hard can eggs be? They’re just tiny little things. People do this every day.”

The spatula makes contact, but predictably, the omelet doesn't cooperate. It folds awkwardly, and a piece flops onto the burner. Tony groans, his free hand tugging at his hair.

“Yeah, this is going great. Real Gordon Ramsay stuff here.” His voice is dripping with sarcasm as he glares at the breakfast carnage. He pauses, tapping his fingers against the counter, before grabbing another egg and cracking it into a fresh bowl. “She better appreciate this. Slaving away like a 1950s housewife… minus the pearls. Or the misogyny.”

JARVIS chimes in unprompted. “Might I suggest using a lower heat setting, sir? You appear to be—”

“No, no, no. I got this, J. Do not swoop in with your fancy AI advice. This is a Tony Stark original, and I’ll be damned if technology fixes my… whatever this is.”

“As you wish,” JARVIS replies smoothly, the slightest hint of amusement in his tone.

Tony manages to plate something passable, a mixture of eggs, toast, and fruit that—miraculously—looks edible. He surveys his handiwork with a critical eye, then lets out a huff. “If this doesn’t scream ‘romantic Christmas breakfast,’ I don’t know what does.”

There’s a small box tucked into the pocket of his sweatpants, a box that has no business being near sizzling pans or flour-covered counters. He knows better. He’s Tony Stark, after all. Precision is his thing—normally. But today? He feels like a live wire, energy sparking unpredictably under his skin.

“Okay. Breakfast first. Then the thing. Easy.” He picks up the tray and heads for the stairs, deliberately ignoring the persistent flutter in his chest.

The bedroom is still quiet when he pushes the door open with his shoulder, the tray balanced precariously in his hands. You’re exactly where he left you, sprawled under the covers with one arm flung lazily over your head. The sight makes his lips quirk into a crooked smile, the kind he reserves for moments no one else gets to see.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he says, his voice low but teasing. “Or should I say Sleeping Beast? You snore, you know.”

You stir slightly, mumbling something incoherent, and he snickers. “I’ll take that as a ‘good morning, Tony. Thanks for the breakfast-in-bed surprise. You’re the best boyfriend in the known universe.’” He sets the tray down on the nightstand and leans over to press a kiss to your temple. “I know, I know. I’m amazing.”

You blink awake slowly, your eyes adjusting to the soft light. “What…?” Your voice is thick with sleep, and you prop yourself up on one elbow, squinting at him. “What are you doing?”

“Delivering five-star cuisine,” he says, gesturing grandly at the tray. “Emphasis on the ‘five.’ I wouldn’t check the Yelp reviews if I were you.”

Your gaze shifts to the tray, and a small laugh escapes your lips. “You… made this?”

“Shockingly, yes. With these very hands.” He holds them up for emphasis. “And I only started one tiny grease fire, which I think is a personal record.”

You sit up more fully now, the blankets pooling around your waist. “Why? What’s the occasion?”

Tony shrugs, leaning casually against the bedpost, though there’s nothing casual about the way his heart thuds at your question. “Can’t a guy just do something nice for his girlfriend without getting the third degree? It’s Christmas, in case you forgot. Figured I’d play Santa and spoil you a little.”

Your smile softens, and you reach for the coffee mug on the tray. “You’re full of surprises, Stark.”

“That’s what they say,” he replies, sitting on the edge of the bed and watching as you take a sip of the coffee. He’s relieved when you don’t grimace. Coffee, at least, is one thing he knows he can’t mess up.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” you say, picking up a fork and spearing a piece of toast.

“Of course I did,” he retorts. “You’re lucky I didn’t bring out a violinist for ambiance. Thought about it. Decided it was too much.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, here you are. Voluntarily waking up next to me every day. Who’s the ridiculous one now?”

There’s a comfortable rhythm to your banter, one that makes the rest of the world fade away. He watches you eat, his expression softening when you’re not looking. Every now and then, you catch him staring, and he brushes it off with a quick quip or a self-deprecating joke, but the truth is, he’s just… captivated.

He’s done a lot of big things in his life. Saved the world, built a legacy, even cheated death a couple of times. But this—sitting here with you, on a lazy Christmas morning—is one of those rare moments that feels monumental in its simplicity.

Tony taps his fingers against his knee, his mind racing even as he tries to keep the conversation light. He’s thinking about the box in his pocket, about the way your eyes will light up when you see what’s inside. He’s thinking about how terrifying and exhilarating it is to want something so deeply, to want you forever.

“So, on a scale of one to ten,” he says, breaking the silence, “how would you rate the masterpiece I just served you? Be honest. But remember, I have an ego to protect.”

You tilt your head, pretending to deliberate. “Hmm… solid eight. Maybe eight-point-five.”

“Eight-point-five?” he echoes, feigning offense. “What, did the toast offend you?”

“It’s a little… uneven,” you tease, holding up a slightly charred edge. “But I’ll let it slide.”

He rolls his eyes dramatically. “Unbelievable. This is the thanks I get.”

Leaning closer, you kiss the corner of his mouth, a soft and lingering gesture that immediately shuts him up. When you pull back, your grin is mischievous. “Better?”

“Marginally,” he mutters, though his smirk gives him away.

You settle back against the pillows, the tray balanced carefully on your lap. Tony leans on one arm, his gaze drifting over your face as you savor the last bites of breakfast. He’s nervous, though he’d never admit it out loud. Not yet. He wants to do this right—to give you a memory you’ll carry with you forever. But more than that, he wants you to know just how much you mean to him, even if he’s not always the best at saying it.

For now, though, he keeps it light, keeps it normal. There’s time. At least, he hopes there’s time.

“By the way,” he says, his voice tinged with mock seriousness, “you’re washing the dishes.”

Your laughter fills the room, and for a moment, all his nerves fade away.

The warmth of the room is a cocoon against the chill of the winter morning outside, and you’re tangled in each other, limbs intertwined and bodies pressed close beneath the covers. The breakfast tray is forgotten, pushed aside to make room for this: the kind of quiet intimacy that feels like a luxury. Tony’s arm is draped over your waist, his thumb absently brushing along the curve of your hip as if he’s memorizing the feel of you.

His voice is soft when he speaks, carrying none of the usual bravado. “Y’know, if I could freeze time, I’d keep us here. Just like this.”

You hum contentedly, your cheek resting against his chest, where the steady thrum of his heartbeat feels like a secret melody. “I wouldn’t mind that,” you murmur, tilting your face to meet his gaze. His brown eyes are warm and intent, studying you like you’re a puzzle he never wants to solve.

The comfortable silence stretches, broken only by the faint sound of the city beyond the windows. But then, a sudden thought strikes you, and you sit up slightly, your hair mussed from sleep and your eyes sparkling with realization.

“Wait,” you say, breaking the spell. “We still have to open gifts. It’s Christmas morning, remember?”

Tony groans dramatically, flopping back against the pillows as though you’ve just suggested something truly exhausting. “Oh, come on, can’t we stay in bed for a few more hours? Maybe the gifts will open themselves.”

You laugh, wriggling free from his hold, but he’s faster. Before you can fully escape, his arms wrap around you, pulling you back down onto the mattress. You let out a playful squeal, but he doesn’t relent.

“Tony!” you protest, though you’re grinning. “The gifts—”

“Can wait,” he says firmly, his hands settling at your waist to keep you firmly in place. His voice softens, turning almost serious as his eyes meet yours. “Besides, I’ve got something more important right here.”

His tone makes you pause, your smile faltering for just a second as you study him. There’s something in his expression—a mix of vulnerability and determination—that you don’t see often. It sends a flutter through your chest, though you can’t quite put your finger on why.

“More important than presents?” you tease, trying to lighten the mood. “That doesn’t sound like the Tony Stark I know.”

“The Tony Stark you know has layers,” he quips, though his usual sarcasm feels gentler now, like a shield he’s only half-raising. His hands find yours, lacing your fingers together, and he takes a deep breath before speaking again.

“Look, I had this whole plan,” he begins, his words coming quickly now, like he’s worried he might lose his nerve. “Candles, music, maybe even fireworks—because, y’know, I’m me. But then I realized… all of that stuff doesn’t really matter, does it?”

You blink at him, your brows knitting together in confusion. “Tony, what are you—?”

“Shh,” he cuts you off gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Let me do this, okay? Just… let me get it out before I explode or short-circuit or something.”

Your heart is racing now, a mix of anticipation and disbelief. You nod, unable to find your voice.

“I’ve been a lot of things in my life,” he says, his gaze unwavering. “A genius, a billionaire, a total pain in the ass. But with you, it’s different. You make me want to be better. Hell, you make me better. And it’s not just the big stuff—though saving the world is a hell of a lot easier when I know you’re waiting for me to come home. It’s the little things, too. The way you laugh at my stupid jokes, or how you somehow manage to make this place feel like an actual home.”

His voice wavers slightly, and he swallows hard, his grip on your hands tightening. “I used to think I had everything I needed. The cars, the suits, the fancy tech. But then you came along, and suddenly none of that mattered. Because you… you’re my everything. And I don’t want to waste another second pretending I don’t know that.”

Your breath catches as he shifts slightly, pulling a small box from the pocket of his sweatpants. He holds it up, his hand trembling just enough for you to notice.

“I’m not great at this kind of thing,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I know one thing for sure: I don’t want to wake up another day without knowing you’re mine. So, will you—?”

“Tony,” you interrupt, your own voice trembling now. You press a hand to your mouth, overwhelmed by the flood of emotions surging through you.

His face falls slightly, panic flashing in his eyes. “Oh, no. Is this a bad time? Did I—? I should’ve waited, shouldn’t I? Or maybe done the whole fireworks thing. Damn it, I knew I should’ve—”

“No, no, it’s not that,” you say quickly, though your tone is teasing now, even as tears glisten in your eyes. You let out a shaky laugh, leaning back slightly as if considering. “I don’t know, Tony… this is a pretty big decision. I mean, are you really sure you can handle me forever?”

He stares at you, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “What—? Of course, I’m sure! Are you seriously asking if I—?”

“I mean,” you continue, biting back a grin, “I do snore, apparently. And I’m not great at remembering where I put my keys. Plus, I make you watch all those sappy holiday movies—”

“Yes!” he blurts out, his voice a mix of exasperation and desperation. “Yes, I can handle all of that. Hell, I’d watch ‘Love, Actually’ on repeat for the rest of my life if it means you’ll say yes. Just—please. Don’t make me beg. I’m Tony Stark, for God’s sake.”

You can’t hold it in any longer. The laughter bubbles out of you, and you reach up to cup his face, your thumbs brushing over his stubble. “You’re such a dork,” you whisper, leaning in until your foreheads touch. “Of course, I’ll marry you.”

For a moment, Tony just stares at you, his brain clearly struggling to process your words. Then, his face breaks into a grin so wide it’s almost boyish, and he lets out a breathless laugh, relief washing over him like a tidal wave.

“You’re really saying yes?” he asks, as if he can’t quite believe it. “You’re not messing with me, right? Because if this is some elaborate joke—”

“I’m not messing with you,” you assure him, your own smile mirroring his. “I’m saying yes, Tony. A thousand times yes.”

He doesn’t wait another second. His arms wrap around you, pulling you into a kiss that’s both fervent and tender, a kiss that feels like a promise. When you finally pull away, both of you are breathless, your foreheads still pressed together.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmurs, his voice soft and full of wonder.

“Merry Christmas,” you reply, your fingers tangling in his hair as you kiss him again.

The massive tree in the corner of the penthouse sparkles like something out of a holiday dream, its glittering ornaments and twinkling lights casting a warm, golden glow over the room. The fireplace crackles softly, and the faint sound of holiday music hums in the background, setting the perfect cozy scene. You’re curled up on the plush couch, nestled into Tony’s side, a thick blanket draped over both of you. Your legs are tangled together, and in your hands is a mug of steaming hot cocoa, its sweetness enhanced by the swirl of whipped cream and the faintest hint of peppermint.

You glance at the tree, then at the pile of opened gifts scattered around the room. Wrapping paper is crumpled in corners, bows are tossed aside, and the faint smell of pine from the tree mingles with the chocolatey aroma of your drinks. But none of that holds your attention for long.

Your eyes drift down to your left hand, where the delicate engagement ring Tony slipped onto your finger just a little while ago catches the firelight. The diamond—a perfect, understated yet dazzling stone—is framed by a sleek, modern band that feels so you it’s uncanny.

“I still can’t believe this,” you murmur, holding your hand up slightly to admire the ring again. “It’s perfect. The size, the design… it’s like you read my mind.”

Tony smirks, taking a sip of his cocoa before setting the mug on the coffee table. “Please. You think I’d propose to you without doing my homework first? I might be reckless, but I’m not stupid.”

You turn to him, one brow raised in playful skepticism. “Homework? Is that what you’re calling it?”

“Absolutely,” he says, his tone teasing but with a glint of pride in his eyes. “I had spreadsheets. Diagrams. A whole team of—”

“Tony!” you cut him off, laughing as you swat at his chest. “You did not have a team.”

“Fine,” he relents, grinning. “But I did pay attention. All those times you casually pointed out rings in magazine ads or that one time you dragged me past Tiffany’s and sighed at the window display? Let’s just say I’ve been taking notes.”

You shake your head, marveling at him. “And the size? How did you get that right? Don’t tell me you measured my finger while I was sleeping or something creepy like that.”

Tony’s grin widens, and there’s a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. “Would you believe me if I said I have a natural talent for guessing ring sizes?”

“No.”

“Fair enough,” he concedes. “I may or may not have borrowed one of your rings when you weren’t looking. For research purposes.”

“Research purposes,” you repeat, your voice dripping with amusement. “Wow, I didn’t realize getting engaged to you would involve so much corporate espionage.”

“Hey,” he says, feigning indignation, “it worked, didn’t it? Look at that ring. Perfect fit, perfect style… just like the woman wearing it.”

The sincerity in his last words catches you off guard, and your playful retort dies on your lips. Instead, you feel a warmth spreading through your chest, a kind of joy so profound it’s almost overwhelming.

“You’re really something, you know that?” you say softly, setting your mug down so you can turn toward him fully.

Tony leans back slightly, a cocky grin on his face. “Something amazing, I hope.”

“Something infuriating,” you tease, your fingers brushing over the stubble along his jaw. “But yeah… amazing too.”

His grin softens into something more genuine, and he cups your face with one hand, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek. “You make it easy, you know. Wanting to get this stuff right. You deserve it, all of it. The ring, the world, the whole damn galaxy if I could give it to you.”

You feel your throat tighten, and you lean into his touch, pressing a kiss to his palm. “I don’t need the galaxy, Tony. I just need you.”

There’s a flicker of something vulnerable in his expression, a glimpse of the man who hides beneath the sarcasm and the bravado. He leans in to kiss you, a slow and tender kiss that feels like a promise, like the future you’re both stepping into together.

When you pull back, you settle against his chest again, letting out a contented sigh. “So,” you say after a moment, your voice light, “what’s your favorite gift so far? Besides me saying yes, obviously.”

“Obviously,” he echoes, smirking as he runs his fingers through your hair. “That’s number one by a mile. But if I had to pick something else… I’d say the socks.”

You blink, confused. “The socks?”

“Yeah,” he says, nodding seriously. “You know, the ones with my face on them? Absolute game-changer.”

You laugh so hard you nearly spill your cocoa. “I knew you’d love those. Happy to know they rival the engagement ring.”

“Well, they don’t exactly rival the ring,” he admits, his tone turning thoughtful. “But they do add a certain… flair to my wardrobe. Can’t wait to wear them to the next board meeting.”

You groan, burying your face in his chest. “Please don’t.”

“No promises,” he says, kissing the top of your head.

You’re quiet for a while after that, the two of you simply enjoying the warmth and comfort of being together. The fire crackles softly, and the snow outside begins to fall more heavily, blanketing the city in a shimmering white coat. You watch it through the enormous windows, your head still resting against Tony’s shoulder.

“I think this might be my favorite Christmas ever,” you say after a while, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Only might?” Tony quips, though there’s a softness to his tone. “What do I have to do to make it the undisputed champ?”

“Hmm,” you pretend to think, holding up your hand again to admire the ring. “You’ve set the bar pretty high, Stark. Proposing and getting me the perfect ring? You might’ve peaked.”

“Peaked?” he repeats, feigning offense. “Please. This is just the beginning. Wait until next Christmas. I’ll have holographic wrapping paper and drones delivering your presents.”

You roll your eyes, laughing. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” he says, tightening his hold on you, “you said yes.”

You smile, snuggling closer to him, and let your eyes drift shut. The weight of the moment settles over you like the warmest of blankets, and for the first time in a long time, you feel like you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

Neither of you speaks for a while, content to simply be. The snow falls outside, the fire burns low, and the city below buzzes quietly with life. But up here, in this little corner of the universe, it’s just the two of you—and that’s more than enough.

The fire crackles softly in the background as you nestle further into Tony’s side, your legs draped lazily over his lap beneath the plush throw blanket. The mug of cocoa you abandoned earlier sits on the coffee table, now lukewarm, but neither of you has the energy or desire to move. The world beyond the enormous penthouse windows is a snow-covered wonderland, the city twinkling like something out of a postcard. But here, in Tony’s arms, the rest of the world feels like an afterthought.

You’re staring at your ring again—still unable to get over how perfectly it suits you—and twirling it gently on your finger. “I can’t believe we’re actually engaged,” you murmur, the words still foreign and thrilling all at once.

Tony hums, his fingers idly tracing patterns along your arm. “Yeah, well, it was bound to happen eventually. I’m a catch, after all.”

You snort, poking him in the ribs. “You’re lucky I love you, Stark. Otherwise, you’d be proposing to your ego.”

“Please,” he retorts, grinning. “My ego would’ve said no. Too much competition.”

Your laughter echoes warmly in the cozy space, and he pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “But seriously,” he continues, his voice softer now, “I’m the lucky one.”

The sincerity in his tone melts your teasing grin into a tender smile. “We’re both lucky,” you say, leaning up to kiss him briefly before settling back against him. “But now that you’ve got me locked down, we should probably start thinking about the next steps.”

Tony perks up at that, his eyebrows raising in mock surprise. “Next steps? Wow, didn’t realize we were rushing through the milestones. What’s next, matching sweatpants?”

“Don’t tempt me,” you tease, poking him again. “But seriously, we should start thinking about the wedding. You know, dates, locations, that kind of thing.”

“Oh, sure,” he says, waving a hand as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. “We’ll rent out a castle or something. Maybe a yacht. Or both. Castle on a yacht. I’ll make it happen.”

You roll your eyes, laughing. “Tony, we don’t need a castle on a yacht. I was thinking something more… intimate.”

“Intimate,” he repeats, like the word is entirely foreign to him. “Okay, define ‘intimate.’ Like… eighty people instead of eight hundred?”

“More like thirty,” you say, smirking at his dramatic gasp. “And maybe somewhere beautiful but low-key. A vineyard? A garden? Somewhere that doesn’t involve holographic invitations.”

Tony pouts, his bottom lip sticking out like a child denied dessert. “You’re no fun. I had this great idea for AI-driven seating charts.”

“Tony,” you groan, laughing as you swat his arm. “No AI at the wedding.”

“Fine, fine,” he concedes, though you can tell his brain is already whirring with ideas. “But we’re keeping the open bar. And there will be cake. A ridiculous amount of cake.”

“Deal,” you agree, grinning. “And maybe a live band? Something classic.”

“Classic, huh?” Tony muses, tilting his head as he considers. “Sinatra? Ella? Or are we talking ‘classic’ like… AC/DC?”

You laugh, burying your face in his shoulder. “I should’ve known you’d sneak AC/DC into this somehow.”

“Hey, it’s our wedding,” he says, his tone teasing but with a playful wink. “And by ‘our,’ I mean you’ll pick all the details, and I’ll just show up in a ridiculously expensive tux and look charming.”

You snuggle closer, your smile softening. “That’s all I really need, anyway.”

There’s a pause as the two of you settle into the quiet again, but you can feel Tony’s fingers fidgeting against your arm, a sure sign that his mind is still racing. You glance up at him, your brow raised. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Nothing,” he says quickly, though the sheepish look on his face betrays him.

“Tony,” you press, sitting up slightly. “Spill.”

He hesitates for a moment, his eyes darting toward the window as if searching for an escape. Finally, he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. It’s just… I was thinking. About… you know, after the wedding.”

“After the wedding?” you echo, tilting your head. “You mean the honeymoon?”

“Sure,” he says, though his tone is distracted. “But I was also thinking… further out. Like… a house. Or maybe—hypothetically—a kid. Or two.”

Your mouth drops open slightly, caught completely off guard. “You’re already thinking about kids?”

“Hypothetically!” he clarifies quickly, though there’s a nervous energy to his voice. “I mean, I’m just saying… it’s crossed my mind. Once or twice. Or, you know, a dozen times.”

You’re quiet for a moment, processing his words. Then, a slow smile spreads across your face, and you lean back against him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Tony Stark, are you saying you want to be a dad?”

He shifts uncomfortably, his cheeks tinged with the faintest hint of pink. “I’m saying… I wouldn’t hate the idea. I mean, think about it. A tiny human running around with your smarts and my charm? World domination is practically guaranteed.”

You laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” he says, grinning now, “you said yes.”

You shake your head, your heart swelling with affection. “I think you’d be a great dad, Tony. Once you figure out how to baby-proof all your gadgets.”

“Oh, please,” he scoffs, though his smile is genuine. “I’d invent a whole line of Stark-brand baby-proof tech. Patent it. Make billions.”

“Of course you would,” you say, rolling your eyes. “But maybe we should focus on the wedding first before we start planning our takeover of the parenting world.”

“Fair,” he concedes, pulling you closer. “But just so you know, I’m already brainstorming names. You should’ve heard the one I came up with yesterday. Absolute gold.”

“Oh no,” you groan, laughing again. “I’m almost afraid to ask.”

He leans in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Tony Junior. Think about it. T.J. for short.”

You burst out laughing, your head falling against his chest. “We are not naming our child Tony Junior.”

“Fine, fine,” he says, chuckling along with you. “We’ll workshop it.”

As your laughter fades, you settle against him again, your fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on his chest. The firelight dances across the room, casting shadows on the walls, and you feel a profound sense of peace, of rightness, in this moment.

“Hey,” you say softly after a while, looking up at him. “I love you.”

His expression softens, and he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I love you too.”

You smile, your hand drifting down to rest over his. “And for the record, I can’t wait for all of it. The wedding, the house, the future… everything. As long as it’s with you.”

Tony’s grin is slow and warm, and he wraps his arms around you like he never plans to let go. “Then it’s a deal.”

The two of you sit there for a long time after that, the snow falling steadily outside and the fire burning low. Together, you dream and plan and tease and laugh, painting the picture of a life that feels almost too perfect to be real. But with Tony by your side, you know it’s all possible—and more.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Garden of Secrets [25] - Sweet Pea

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤

Thanks so much to @theskytraveler​ for helping me with the chapter!

Summary: Small gestures can be romantic.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of violence, slow burn.

Word Count: 3400

Series Masterlist

Surprisingly, there were no nightmares for the rest of the night. In fact, your sleep was uninterrupted until you woke up to the sound of the birds chirping, the warm sunlight spilling through the curtains. You heaved a sigh as you sat up in the bed, then stretched out, the knock on the door making you turn your head.

“Yes?”

The door opened and Paula stepped inside, then walked across the room to open the curtains.

“Good morning ma’am,” she said. “Did you sleep well?”

“Better than usual,” you said. “Is it breakfast time?”

“It is,” she said. “Mr. Bridgerton is already awake.”

You tilted your head. “Is he?”

“Yes, he was in the breakfast room when I saw him,” she said, pulling a gown out of your wardrobe. “This one for the day?”

You thought for a moment, then smiled.

“Yes thank you.”

It took you around half an hour to get ready, and you made your way down the hall to get to the breakfast room. As Paula had told you, Benedict was already there pacing in the room and he turned as soon as he saw you.

“Y/N.”

“Good morning,” you said, taking your seat and he stepped closer.

“Are you alright?”

“Why would I not be alright?” you asked, then looked up at the footman filling your teacup. “Thank you.”

“Ma’am.”

“Did you eat?”  you asked Benedict and he shook his head.

“No— that’s not important,” he said and stole a look at the footmen. “Can we have the room?”

They walked out of the room immediately, and you grabbed a piece of toast while he took the seat near yours.

“Tell me what you need,” he said and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I mean I was going to say olive bread but I have it right here.”

“Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes and shot him a light hearted glare. “Benedict.”

“Does your wrist hurt?”

“I didn’t tell you all that just so that you could look at me with worry in your eyes as if I’m going to break down any moment,” you deadpanned, ripping the edge of the toast to pop it in your mouth. “And as I’ve said last night, I’m fine. Josie had it worse than I did—”

“It’s not a competition.”

You paused for a moment, then shrugged your shoulders.

“Either way,” you said. “If you’re going to be like this at tonight’s dinner, I’ll skip it entirely and you’ll have to watch Anthony and Lottie be in love all by yourself.”

“Y/N.”

“I’ll say I passed out, you can’t say it wouldn’t be belie—”

“Where is he now?” he cut you off impatiently, that fire burning in his blue eyes and you averted your gaze for a moment, then grabbed your cup to take a sip of your tea.

“Away.”

“But where?”

“I’m not telling you anything when you look like you’re going to find him to challenge him to a duel.”

“Duels are a matter of honor,” he said. “He has none. Trust me, I have other things in mind for him, had a couple of ideas last night.”

You tilted your head. “You didn’t sleep last night?”

“That’s not important,” he said. “Where is he?”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but you can’t kill my father.”

“Breaking every bone in his body doesn’t count as killing him,” he paused for a moment. “Although, the idea is tempting—”

“Benedict,” you said and he let out a bitter laugh.

“He deserves it.”

You heaved a sigh and turned to look at him better, reaching out to place your hand over his on the table.

“You know it better than everyone by now that I’m not the forgiving type,” you said. “But any contact with him is way more than what he deserves.”

He gritted his teeth, still deep in thought. “He needs to pay for what he did.”

“He needs to be forgotten actually,” you pointed out. “I’m not going to spare that prick any thought, neither should you.”

Your name left his lips in an exasperated sigh.

“You’re my wife,” he reminded you, making your heart skip a beat. “I love you, I can’t just let that—”

“Benedict, I’ve quite gotten used to you being around,” you cut him off, your cheeks burning. “So stop trying to find a way to not be around, like murder or maiming.”

“But—”

“He is miserable, and he’s going to stay and die miserable in that hellhole,” you insisted. “I promise you, he’s not even worth your anger, he’s nothing.”  

He turned his hand under yours and lifted it to press a chaste kiss on your hand, his thumb caressing your wrist as he pulled back. For a moment you felt as if he could hear your heartbeat because of how fast it was, and a smile warmed your lips, that familiar fluttering appearing in your stomach once more.

“So,” you said. “Onto more pressing matters. Tonight’s dinner?”

He thought for a moment, then made a face.

“I just…” he trailed off, running a hand over his eyes. “Can we skip that?”

“Can we skip the dinner your mother is throwing to celebrate your best friend and your brother’s courtship?” you asked. “No. No we cannot.”

“You had a good idea there, if we said you passed out—”

“I was going to do that for my own benefit, not yours,” you said. “So no.”

“We’re married!”

“So?”

“So you’re supposed to be on my side,” he insisted and you clicked your tongue.

“Debatable,” you pointed out, trying to keep a straight face. “There are a bunch of married couples who stab each other in the back.”

“Like you, Brutus?”

“Kind of but look on the bright side,” you said. “At least I’m doing it to your face.”

“Oh much appreciated,” he said with a grin and you let a smile warm your face, then shrugged your shoulders.

“Of course,” you said as you took your tea cup to your lips. “I’m nothing if not considerate.”

                                            *

Charlotte’s family was quite crowded and you knew it but all of them and the Bridgertons together in a room equaled absolute chaos. Lord and Lady Harlowe were very sweet, and you’d had the chance to have a small conversation with them before making your way to sit beside Eloise on the sofa.

“Well you look glum.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m delighted,” she said with a scowl on her face and you tilted your head, then stole a look at Charlotte who was talking to Daphne and Anthony. Colin and Benedict were already in a conversation by the corner of the room while the children ran around, Lady Bridgerton telling them to be careful. You reached out to touch her arm, then nodded at the door.

“Come on.”

“What?”

“Come on,” you said. “There’s still some time for dinner and you look like you’re in a need of some peace and quiet. Let’s go outside, they can call us in when the dinner is ready.”

“You don’t want to spend your time giving loving glances to your beloved, just like the rest of the people in this room?”

“My beloved is still not totally alright with the idea of Anthony and Charlotte, so I think I’ll leave him be,” you said and stood up. “He can handle himself. Let’s go.”

She huffed out but followed you out of the room and you both made your way downstairs, then stepped out of the house to go sit on the swings in the backyard. She looked behind her to make sure no one was watching you two, then turned to you.

“Will you tell my mother if I smoke?”

“Do I look like a person who tells people things?”

She scoffed a laugh, then took out a cigarette package to offer it to you, but you shook your head.

“No thank you.”

She put one between her lips, then lit it and exhaled the smoke.

“Don’t get me wrong,” she said. “I’m happy for Lottie and Anthony. I’ve spent my whole life thinking she would be a part of our family, just…”

“Through a different brother?” you asked and she let out a small laugh.

“Does it bother you?”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “Not at all.”

“As it shouldn’t. I mean we didn’t know Anthony and Lottie were in love obviously, and her and Benedict were close friends so we assumed…”

“You and the rest of the ton,” you said. “And me for a while.”

“You thought they were courting?”

“Both Lottie and Benedict said they weren’t, on different occasions,” you said. “I would have taken myself out of that picture immediately if they were, trust me.”

She nodded slowly.

“So it’s not a matter of her being a part of your family,” you said. “What is it then?”

She thought for a moment, then shook her head.

“I was supposed to have more time,” she said through her teeth, making you frown. “This whole season—first Benedict got married, now Daphne is getting married, Anthony will certainly marry Lottie within the season and…I’m next.”

“Not Colin?”

“Have you seen him around Marina?” she asked. “And it doesn’t matter. If it’s not her it’ll be someone else. I was supposed to have years and years and now it’s…it’s at my door.”

Oh that feeling was quite familiar.

You pressed your lips together, curling your fingers around the rope of the swing.

“And before you tell me what a bliss love and marriage are—”

“I’m not going to say that,” you said. “Or any of that nonsense.”

She turned to look at you better, a look of disbelief flashing over her face.

“I’m just going to ask you something,” you said. “And do correct me if I’m wrong because I’ve only been here for a little time but…your family doesn’t strike me as people to push you into a marriage you don’t want, am I wrong?”

She shook her head again.

“They wouldn’t do that,” she said. “But it doesn’t matter. They all want me to fall in love and get married.”

“I think they want you to be happy,” you said. “They just think falling in love and getting married is the only way of doing so, but considering your family and status, you do have the luxury of choosing your own path to happiness if you wish.”

She blinked a couple of times.

“And you are not going to wax poetic about how marriage is the best thing in the world?”

You scoffed a laugh. “That would be quite hypocritical of me, considering I spent my whole life hating the idea of marriage.”

She stared at you. “Really?”

“Oh yeah,” you said. “It was merely a threat for me, Damocles’ sword hanging over my head. The idea never held much of a promise.”

“It’s a nightmare for me.”

“I don’t blame you,” you pointed out. “But it’s a nightmare you won’t have to go through if you don’t wish to. Your family loves you too much to put you through anything you don’t want.”

“And when I debut next year?”

“I’ll teach you how to intimidate your suitors with a glare,” you said, making her let out a giggle. “I’m quite good at it.”

“Mm hm, I heard. The Ice Queen.”

“I’ll hand over the crown to you,” you joked and she licked her lips.

“So you changed your mind but you’re not going to give me that speech about…”

“How you’ll also change your mind once you are in love and all that nonsense?” you finished her question for her. “Think of love like catching cold, alright? Yes it could happen to anyone, but you could take some precautions to make sure it doesn’t happen to you.”

She stared at you before a laughter escaped from her lips. “You have the heart of a poet.”

“That’s so rude of you,” you deadpanned, then shot her a grin. “I understand why you’re worried, but I can assure you, nothing you don’t want will ever happen to you. Not with the family you have.”

She offered you a small smile and took a drag of her cigarette again before throwing the cigarette butt on the ground to step on it.

“And you and Benedict?” she asked. “How come you fell in love if you took precautions?”

You bit down on your lip, deep in thought.

“We just…” you trailed off and took a deep breath. “He took me by surprise.”

She shot you a look. “Easy as that?”

You nodded your head, running your nail over the rope of the swing.

“Yeah,” you muttered. “Contrary to what people seem to believe, it doesn’t have to be complicated all the time.”

“Ladies,” you heard a familiar voice that sent a warmth through your chest, and looked over your shoulder to see Benedict.

“Brother,” Eloise said. “Mama sent you?”

“I volunteered,” he said. “I figured you wouldn’t want her to see you smoke. Dinner is ready.”

Eloise heaved a sigh and stood up from the swing.

“Let’s celebrate people being in love,” she grumbled in a dramatic manner and made her way to the house with you following her. Benedict squeezed her shoulder in an assuring manner as she walked past him, and you winked at him.

“Are you going to be okay, tortured artist?”

“Ask me again at the end of tonight,” he muttered and you let out a laugh, then stepped back into the house.

                                            *

The dinner was developing quite similarly to what your and Benedict’s engagement dinner was like. Everyone was happy, Anthony and Charlotte looked like they were barely aware of anyone else in the room, Lady Bridgerton, Lady Harlowe and Lord Harlowe in a deep conversation before Lord Harlowe turned to the couple.

“I did have a feeling,” he said, motioning at them and Charlotte’s jaw dropped.

“Did you papa?”

“Mm hm. For both of you.”

“Wait, me too?” Anthony asked and Lady Harlowe chuckled.

“You weren’t exactly subtle, Anthony.”

Anthony grinned and reached out to hold Charlotte’s hand over the table, making Benedict shake his head slightly.

“He was I think!” Lottie said. “I didn’t know about his feelings, and I thought he wouldn’t share mine.”

“How could I not, my love?” Anthony said and Benedict pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I will stab myself with this fork I swear to God…”

“Benny!”

“Stop it Benedict,” Daphne said. “I for one am glad Anthony has found love. It’s the most precious thing in the world after all.”

“You know,” you said. “Living with Benedict, I thought I developed an immunity for how strange people in love sound most of the time, but apparently not.”

Colin shot you a confused look. “You’re in love with Benedict.”

“Never remind me that ever again,” you deadpanned, making Benedict pat your arm as if trying to console you.

“Benny, you must be happy for me,” Lottie said. “The love of my life loves me back—”

“Charlie, I’m begging you not to call my brother that.”

“Benedict, I had to put up with those endless goddamn speeches of yours when you fell in love with your wife, did you forget about that? You once talked about how beautiful she is for over thirty minutes, and I know that because Colin was timing it.”

You tried to repress your smile and Colin nodded.

“Thirty-five minutes, to be exact.”

“And also, what am I supposed to call the love of my life, Benny?” Lottie asked and Benedict shrugged his shoulders.

“Acquaintance?”

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered. “See Benedict, this is exactly why people thought you two were in a courtship and no one except Lord and Lady Harlowe knew they were in love.”

“We weren’t—”

“Oh Y/N, please don’t think—”

“No no,” you waved your hands as a chorus of disagreement rose from the table. “Don’t worry about it, I know. Trust me, this—” you motioned at Benedict. “Would have been so much easier to understand if there was a courtship, just saying.”

“But there wasn’t, because I have been completely in love with Tony for years,” Lottie chirped and Anthony smiled at her fondly before leaning in to mutter something into her ear, making her giggle.

“Are you excited for your wedding, Daphne?” Lady Harlowe asked and she nodded.

“I am, Lady Harlowe,” she said. “And you are coming to the breakfast surely?”

“Oh we are, we wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“I might,” Eloise muttered and Lady Bridgerton gasped.

“Eloise!”

“What? It’s a possibility mama, who knows what might happen that day?”

“We will remind you of this when it’s your wedding breakfast dear,” Lady Harlowe said and you grinned at Eloise.

“I think Eloise will follow my lead when it comes to suitors once she debuts,” you said and Benedict tilted his head.

“Scaring the soul out of all of them?”

You nodded and Lord Harlowe chuckled before pointing between you two.

“All but one, apparently.”

You stole a look at Benedict, mirroring his smile and raised your glass slightly.

“Yeah,” you said. “All but one.”

                                                  *

The rest of the dinner went perfectly well and when you and Benedict returned home, the weather was still quite lovely, the sound of crickets and the water fountain reaching your ears, the warm wind caressing your skin. Benedict hid his yawn behind his hand as you looked up at the marble stairs leading up to the front door of the house, then turned to him.

“Tired?”

“Just a little,” he muttered. “I didn’t sleep last night, so…”

You paused for a moment.

“Right,” you said. “Of course. You must get some rest.”

“And you?”

“I think I’ll enjoy the fresh air some more before going to sleep,” you said. “It’s such a nice night.”

“Do you want some company?”

“Perhaps another night because I must insist that you go to sleep,” you said with a laugh. “Really. You look like you’re about to pass out and in case you forgot, that’s my thing.”

He chuckled, nodding his head before yawning again.

“Alright,” he said. “Good night then.”

“Good night,” you said and watched him climb the stairs before taking a deep breath. “And Benedict?”

He turned around to look at you. “Yes?”

“You know they will be happy together right?” you asked. “Anthony and Lottie?”

He smiled softly.

“Oh I know,” he said. “They’re so in love, I can’t believe I didn’t see that before.”

“I can’t believe that either,” you pointed out. “But you might want to tell Lottie you’re happy for them.”

Benedict grinned and nodded his head again.

“I did,” he said. “Right before we left. She knows.”

“Good.”

“I might take my time to tell Anthony though.”

“I’m behind that decision one hundred percent,” you said and he let out a laugh.

“I knew you would,” he said. “Sweet dreams.”

“You too,” you said and he walked into the house, leaving you in the garden. You heaved a sigh, then started making your way through the garden, enjoying the beautiful sight.

After passing by the roses, you leaned in to inhale the pleasant scent of sweet pea flowers, closing your eyes for a moment before opening them again. You ran your palm over them, looking down to see them better but as soon as you did, a four-leaf clover on the flower bed sticking out of the soil caught your eye, making you let out a chuckle.

“Well hello there,” you muttered as you reached down to rip it, then went back into the house.

You climbed up the stairs, but as soon as you reached the door to your room you paused, stealing a look at Benedict’s closed door. You nibbled on your lip, then threw your shoulders back and passed through the hallway to get to the door of his studio. It was dark aside from the moonlight spilling through the window and you stepped inside, careful not to bump into anything before approaching the small table which had his palette and a couple of his paints. You took a deep breath, then put the four-leaf clover on the table, stepping back to see it better, then frowned and stepped forward to put it on the palette, nodding to yourself once you were convinced it looked good.

A smile warmed your face and you bit on your nail, and left the studio to rush to your bedroom as if he could see you. You pressed a hand over your chest as you entered your room, then discarded your clothes as quickly as you could before you flung yourself on the bed to pull the pillow to your chest, a giddy giggle escaping from your lips.

Chapter 26

[doc-pickles]

emergency contact | anthony beauvillier

summary: you’re sick and all tito wants is for you to take care of yourself

warnings: mentions of being sick, hospital, a few swears

a/n: this idea popped into my head and I knew it was the perfect thing to write tito into!

enjoy!

xoxo nina

Tito always warned you about taking care of yourself. You had a tendency to get lost in your work and skip meals or leave your water bottle at home and go the whole day without even thinking about taking a sip of water. But when you’d come down with a cold, Beau’s insistence that you take care of yourself grew tenfold.

“Did you take DayQuil?”

“Yes.”

“And ate breakfast?”

“Yes.”

“And you-“

“Anthony,” you cut him off as he stared at you from his place at the door. You never used his full name so he knew you were serious. “I’m fine. I will survive going to work for the day while you do tape review. Okay?”

Tito groaned before nodding and pressing a kiss to your hair, “I’m just worried about you baby. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

You nodded, leaning into Tito slightly before he left for the day. After he shut the door you heaved a sigh before gathering your work things and heading into the office for the day.

It’s only took 45 minutes of being at work before your migraine cropped back up. You pushed it aside as you worked on the document in front of you.

But the pain became worse, to the point where you could barely see your screen. You groaned and shut your laptop, deciding that you needed a snack and a break from your work.

As soon as you stood up your head began to swim, your fingers reaching for the edge of your desk to try and balance yourself. The attempt was futile as your knees buckled and your vision went black.

-

Tito was sitting across from Petey and Brock, the trio spread out across Brock’s living room reviewing film. Just as Elias paused the tape Tito’s phone rang.

“Lemme grab this real quick,” Anthony stood from the couch, Elias throwing a pillow at him.

“Bring back more beer!”

Tito laughed as he answered the call, walking into the kitchen, “Hello?”

“Hi Im calling from Vancouver General Hospital. Is this Anthony Beauvillier?”

“Yeah that’s me. Is uh- is everything okay?”

“I have Y/N Y/L/N in the ER and you’re listed as her emergency contact.”

Tito’s heart dropped as he set the beers in his hands down and went to slip his shoes on. Petey and Brock stared at him but he couldn’t be bothered to acknowledge them as he tried to locate his keys.

“Is she okay? What happened?” Tito tried to keep the panic out of his voice but it was hard when the woman across the line wasn’t telling him anything.

“I can’t release medical information on the phone,” the woman said in a dull monotone. “Would you be able to come down to our emergency department?”

Anthony finally located his keys and made his way toward the front door, “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

As he hung up his phone Anthony finally looked to Brock and Petey who both looked concerned, “Y/N is in the ER. I gotta go.”

The boys barely got out a few reassuring words to Tito before he was out the door and driving to the hospital, worry lacing his body as he raced to where you were.

-

“She should be fine, she was extremely dehydrated when she was brought in so we started her on an IV. And I’m assuming the cough and cold have been going on for awhile?”

“About a week.”

“Sounds about right. She’s developed acute bronchitis but it’s very mild so we’ve already started her on a course of NSAID’s to help with the the inflammation. She’ll need plenty of rest the next few days.”

“Okay, thank you so much.”

Although you couldn’t tell who the other person talking was, you quickly determined it was a doctor talking to Tito.

Fuck…

That meant you were in the hospital, right after Tito tried to warn you about taking care of yourself. You heard the door shut and slowly peaked your eyes open, watching at Tito settled into the chair at your side and hung his head. His hands ran through his hair before he took a deep breath, eyes locked on the floor.

“Baby…,” you whispered, Tito’s head popping up at the sound. “Hi. I’m sorry.”

Before you could move a muscle Anthony hopped out of the chair, fingers running across your forehead as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, “You scared the shit out of me.”

You sighed at Tito’s words, leaning closer to him, “I’m sorry. I thought I’d be okay at work. I should’ve listened to you.”

“Don’t apologize, I’m just glad you’re okay,” Tito leaned down to meet your eyes. “You are okay, right?”

“Yeah I got a migraine and went to stand up and…,” you sighed, squeezing your eyes shut to try and keep out the panic that clawed at your chest. “And then I woke up here. So I have no idea what happened.”

Anthony sensed your panic as he pulled you into a tight embrace, his hands skating over your back slowly in a comforting manner. Just his touch on your skin had your breathing slowing, body relaxed in his hold.

“The doctor will be back in an hour to make sure you’re okay then I’m taking you home and you’re not leaving bed for the next two days.”

“What if I have to pee?”

“I’ll carry you to the bathroom.”

“And when you have your game tomorrow night?”

Tito fixed you with a look that had you grinning instantly, knowing you were pushing his buttons, “You’re killing me here.”

“I know, but you love me right?”

“Yes baby,” Tito leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. “I love you so much.”

[bloodcanbehot]

I Wish You Would

(gotta keep that Taylor Swift theme)

Anthony Lockwood x f!reader

Content: Angst? Fluff? Touched starved Lockwood

Warnings: Mention of blood and wounds, also some curse words (I think)

Characters: Anthony Lockwood and (y/n) Kipps. (Lucy Carlyle and Quill Kipps also appear)

Word count: 1.083

A/N: Exactly two people told me to post it, and that was enough (I'm literally about to enter to an online class while typing this). Chronology speaking, this goes BEFORE their first kiss but I'm a dumbass and forgot to post this one first, hope you like it

(I'll attach their first kiss here)

“Where were you?” Quill asked, seeing both Lockwood and (y/n) walk in with dirt on their faces and hair. As soon as he spoke, his sister’s face told him to not speak, unless he wanted to die.

“We’re fine!” (y/n) said, grabbing Lockwood by the arm and walking to the kitchen.

“You guys don’t look-” Lucy started, but the slamming of the door cut her off.

“Sit”

“I’m not your dog”

“And I don’t care” (y/n) said, pointing at the kitchen chair “sit down”

Lockwood did as she said, even though he didn’t want to. (y/n) started taking out items from the first aid kit, slamming them on the table as she cursed.

“I cannot fucking believe you” she said “seriously, why is it so hard for you to take care of yourself while we’re out on a case?” (y/n) asked, soaking a small piece of cotton with disinfectant. She grabbed Lockwood’s arm, forcefully moving the sleeve of his dress shirt up to see his cut better.

“(y/n) I-” Lockwood started, hissing when the cotton made contact with the cut on his arm.

“This might hurt” (y/n) said, after hearing him hissing, a smirk on her face.

“Okay” Lockwood said “I deserved that”

“You deserve more” (y/n) said “actually, you don’t even deserve me doing this for you, should I just tell my brother to do it, so you suffer a bit more?” she questioned, sarcasm all over her voice.

“(y/n)-”

“You know, when Luce told me you were reckless, I thought 'well, he's certainly not stupid' guess I was wrong!” she grabbed one of the big band aids and covered his cut.

“(y/n) I’m sorry, okay?” he said “this wasn’t reckless, I had a plan, it just didn’t work”

“Wow, what a surprise”

“I didn’t know the golden blade was gonna be there!”

“The what?” (y/n) stood up, forgetting about his other cuts.

“Last year we encountered him” Lockwood explained “we think he somehow works for Penelope Fittes-”

“My boss?”

“Yes” Lockwood nodded “he tried to steal the bone glass from Lucy and I” he explained “he’s also the one who shot me” he grabbed her hand “you have to believe me”

(y/n) looked at his eyes, processing what he had said in silence, enough to make Lockwood panic, the hold on her hand tightening.

“I… I believe you” she said, sitting back down. She wasn’t gonna lie, she always felt a weird vibe from the woman, or the entire agency for that matter. And she didn’t think Lockwood would lie to her.

He sighed in relief “Thank you (y/n)-”

“What I also believe” she started, letting go of his hand and grabbing a new cotton piece “is that your other cuts need to be taken care of” she said “specially this one” she tapped slightly the cut on his forehead, making him hiss again “I thought you were good at fencing?”

“I am” Lockwood shot back “I was just… surprised”

“Your blood says otherwise” (y/n) replied “now, lean closer so I can help”

Lockwood only nodded and whispered a small ‘yes’, letting her do the work and leaning closer as she instructed. As she leaned in, she quickly realized how her back was going to kill her if she did that, so she grabbed her chair and dragged it a bit closer to his, eventually ending up with her thigh in the middle of his thighs.

Lockwood chuckled “you might as well sit on my lap if you-”

“Shut up or I’ll do it” she cut him off with a smile.

He smirked “be my guest”

She ignored him, grabbing the back of his head to steady it as she disinfected the cut across his forehead. She was focused, focused on cleaning the blood and figuring out which bandage to use, but Lockwood’s wandering hands on her knee were distracting her.

It started with his fingers, slowly tapping her knee, barely noticeable, and she wouldn’t have known if he hadn’t kept going at it. His fingers slid across her knee and (y/n) made her best to ignore it, but as she stood up to change the cotton piece, he pushed her leg open, causing her to fall on his lap.

“That’s better” he said, smirk on his lips again.

“Lockwood-”

“Please” he said, voice so quiet she barely heard him.

She looked at his eyes, and for one moment she saw his mask crack. His dark circles and clenched jaw showed her how tired and stressed he was. She couldn’t even imagine how much his muscles ached after the fight, let alone the throbbing of the multiple cuts on his skin.

“Fine” she whispered, not trusting her own voice with the feeling of his hands on her waist.

She kept doing her thing in silence and he just watched her, tracing small circles on her sides with his thumbs. (y/n) just wanted to close her eyes and enjoy it, enjoy his touch on her skin and wish she could feel it for longer, to forget about the case, the fight, everything. She wanted to focus on him and him only.

“There” she said, breaking whatever spell was between them. She grabbed his chin, angling his face to admire the, now taken care of, cut “you’ll live”

He chuckled, smiling truthfully for the first time that night, or since (y/n) knew him, she didn’t care. She liked the small glow on his face.

They locked eyes, the blanket of silence settling on them again. (y/n)’s fingers slid across his chin towards his jaw, making him close his eyes and just enjoy her touch. His hands started moving up her waist, slowly, also making her want to close her eyes and enjoy, but she still leaned forward, closer and closer to him.

He felt it, the weight shift on his lap, some of her curly locks tickling his shoulders.

She could feel their lips almost touching.

The door opened, making her open her eyes wide and snap her neck so hard she wondered if this is how she was going to die. That would be better than the image she saw.

Both Lucy and her brother were standing at the doorstep. (y/n) stumbled off Lockwood’s lap, feeling his hands fly away from her and almost fell. Chair and all.

She gripped the thinking cloth “I was tending his cut” she stupidly said.

She could feel how Quill resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose as she looked at him.

“You sure were”

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

A/N: I feel like this scene and the other one are pretty similar, so if I do write the fanfic I'll change it, but let me know what you think! (Again, be nice)

[sparring-hyena]

gorgeous.

based on this post i made recently because i have zero chill.

OR, the one where they meet again years later and maybe hate isn’t what we think it is.

-

Poppy hates her immediately. again.

a loud laugh rips through the ball room, slides seamlessly between mingling guests and gentle music. Poppy's attention snaps away from her parents' friend's cousin's son who's droning on about rowing and his private equity firm and about how it was oh so lovely to summer in Florence this year.

Poppy sips her drink, makes an effort to not roll her eyes, and tries to focus back on what... Angus or Anthony (something with an A, she thinks) had been saying.

and then there's the laugh again--loud and alive and unapologetic. no one else seems bothered by it. no one else even bats an eye at the disruption.

Poppy cranes her head to look around the ballroom now, fully forgetting about Arthur or Andrew and everything he had been saying. and then she sees her.

her in the dark dress shimmering in the light like the goddamn inky black midnight sky. her with the toned arms and long fingers holding gently onto a flute of champagne. Poppy's eyes dip to the slit in her dress that runs dangerously high up her thigh. up, up, up and then--

Poppy sees her face.

and she thinks no, it can't be.

and the universe hums and says oh, yes, it can be.

she flips her hair over her shoulder and for one glorious second, the world around them stops, they share a quiet smile that hides years of unsaid truths, and Poppy thinks that maybe, just maybe, she'll be able to get out of this unscathed.

then the world roars back into focus, she is smirking now, and Adam or Alexander is gently touching her arm and asking if she's alright.

"sorry, what was that?" Poppy says, blinking it all away and trying not to think about her racing heart.

"i was asking if you wanted to go for a walk," he says, "my place isn't too far from here."

"oh, uh, no, thank you." Poppy tips back the rest of her drink, leaves the empty glass on the table, and ventures deeper into the ballroom, hoping that she can get lost for the next few hours.

she grabs another flute of champagne from a passing waiter, takes one long sip, and decides that it's too claustrophobic inside. she can feel a warmth in her cheeks and a tingling itchiness beneath her skin.

she steps out into a small outdoor area, where the sounds of the party are muffled by the thick stone walls. Poppy decides that she will give herself one minute. one minute to breathe and freak out and curse out whatever force of the universe thought that this would be funny. one minute to do all of that and then pack it up and go back inside with her head held high as she braces for an assault of questions from her parents about why she screwed up yet another perfect and ideal match.

god forbid she be a person and not some status symbol for her parents.

Poppy's just about to go back inside, just about to pack it all back in, when she turns around and comes face to face with her--AJ Hughes.

"i thought i saw you across the room," AJ says as she reaches out to gently push a loose piece of hair behind Poppy's ear.

Poppy flinches away from the touch.

"ouch, really?"

"what do you want?"

AJ shrugs and actually has the audacity to look shy or nervous or unsure. Poppy has never hated anything the way that she hates that.

"i just thought..." AJ starts.

"thought what? that you'd walk back into my life after six years and try make a mess of it again? i am the best i have ever been and i don't need you dragging me down to your level. so if you don't mind--" Poppy pushes past AJ and at the last possible second, AJ reaches for Poppy's hand.

there's barely any contact. AJ's fingers barely touch her hand, but it's enough to make Poppy stop and look back at her. it's enough to send a spark of energy coursing through her veins and setting her nerve endings alight.

Poppy snaps her hand back. she doesn't say anything, can't say anything because the shock of it all renders her brain to mush and has her heart beat thundering in her chest.

she makes her escape quickly after that. doesn't say anything to AJ as she leaves her alone outside. doesn't even bother to say anything to her parents--she'll take the verbal lashing tomorrow when she wakes up hours after them and they accuse her of all sorts of things.

the outside air is cool against her flushed cheeks; reminds her that summer is well and truly over and that fall is setting in.

Poppy hails a cab and deeply exhales when she falls back against the seat. she decides that tonight was a one time thing. a one time lapse in judgement where she let her guard down and AJ caught her. it doesn't even matter really, because she won't ever have to see AJ again.

another six years will fall away, and then six more after that, and again and again, until she's so far removed from the life she's living now, that the name AJ Hughes will be the echo of a memory.

it's barely six weeks before Poppy's mingling and dancing and drinking at another gala that her parents have dragged her too. this one's to raise money for sick kids so she feels less bad about being here, but still wishes her parents would leave her alone for just one night and not try to set her up with someone.

she dodges another invite home, is always firm yet polite about how she does that, because her parents would never let her hear the end of it if someone took offence to something that she said or did, and she's on thin ice as it is with them. has been for years in fact, and can't quite seem to mend what was broken.

sometimes just as she's about to fall asleep, when she can blame it all on a sleep-fogged brain, she thinks about what her life could have been like had she just done something different. had she stood up to her parents all those years ago. had she stopped pretending that any of it made her happy. had she just accepted what AJ had been so willing to give her.

that last one always comes right at the end, right as she's about to fall off into sleep. and sometimes those what ifs bleed into her dreams and leave an ache in her chest when she wakes again.

Poppy moves easily between the other guests and even plucks another flute of champagne from a passing waiter. and just as she turns back around, Poppy sees AJ across the room. again.

and after a second that stretches on for way too long, where Poppy's heart beats dangerously in her chest for something that she refuses to acknowledges even exists, AJ returns to her conversation as though her entire world hasn't been shifted. as though Poppy's the only one experiencing this.

Poppy huffs. fine. ignore her then.

ignore ignore ignore. Poppy can do that.

the nights and galas and events carry on after that, bleeding and muddling together. sometimes there are sit down dinners, and sometimes--rarely--Poppy and AJ are seated next to each other and have to both play like civil acquaintances in front of everyone else at their table.

mostly though--mostly--Poppy doesn't entertain a single thought of AJ. although sometimes she wonders if by not thinking about her at all, it actually counts as thinking of her. that just winds up frustrating herself more and she reaches for more champagne from passing waiters.

and then some time at the end of winter, when the snow is slush and the sky has a hazy grey tint, Poppy makes a mistake. she's alone with AJ. although not alone alone. they're on a packed elevator, pressed shoulder to shoulder in the back.

AJ keeps one arm folded over her chest at first, tries her best to keep some space between them, but it's all so pointless because Poppy can still feel every minute movement from AJ.

so they aren't alone, but it sure feels like they could be, because for all her efforts, all Poppy can think about is the way that their arms press together.

and then--then then then--AJ moves her arm from across her chest down beside Poppy's own arm.

Poppy doesn't move, doesn't dare breathe or look at AJ.

AJ brushes her fingers against Poppy's, and then Poppy does something regretful. she forgets where they are and what they are and-- everything. she forgets it all and holds AJ's fingers in her own. holds on so tightly and desperately wishes for the elevator to slow or stop altogether.

she feels warm all over and wonders where it all went so wrong.

and then the elevator stops, dings, and the doors slide open.

Poppy releases AJ's hand and follows everyone else off. but AJ stays with her back against the elevator for a moment, and Poppy allows herself one more moment of weakness to look back.

Poppy wonders how the doors haven't closed yet. thinks that maybe this is the universe again trying do something-- nice or cruel? she's not too sure.

"we could be happy," AJ whispers, not that she needs to, there's no one else around.

and her words stab into Poppy's heart and twist and dig and burrow in so deep she doubts she's ever be able to get them out.

everything around her slows for a moment. Poppy can see the doors beginning to close, can see that AJ's not going to get out, can see this moment slipping away. can see all the other moments from years ago and years from now playing out in a montage in her mind, all slipping away.

and she wonders why why why it all has to be so stupid and messy and complicated and-- she steps into the elevator just as the doors shut firmly behind her. and in that same breathless second, AJ bounces off the wall, meets her halfway, and drags her into a perfect kiss.

she hates herself a little for refusing this, for spending so many years unhappy. because if what she feels right now with her hands in AJ's hair, and AJ's on her waist, and their lips locked together, is any indication of what she'll feel tomorrow and next week and years from now--

"promise me," AJ says, breathing the words against Poppy's lips. "promise me that we'll try, because i can't--"

"it'll be hard work."

"i know."

"i'm stubborn and mean."

"i wouldn't want you any other way."

"i promise." Poppy kisses her and then again for good measure. "i've missed you."

"i can't do another six years without you."

"you won't have to."

[knifenotes]

Sharp Like Yours

[based on this]

“… W-what are you looking at?”

“Hm?”

“You’re staring.”

Anthony hadn’t even realized, but he couldn’t deny the fact that he was. Staring, that is. Staring at the way Redacted chewed away at his pencil, marks beginning to dimple the soft wooden surface of the writing tool as he looked at the documents in front of him in deep concentration. With his lips raised, Redacted exposed the canines that were to blame for the sorry state of Redacted’s pencil. A sharp point, digging into the material.

Anthony was ogling at the sight and ruminating on the irony: Redacted had the teeth of a killer, a predator on the hunt, but he had no real drive for it. In fact, the smaller man would be more inclined to go on a long-standing rant than hurt a measly fly, truly the definition of  “all bark, no bite.” Anthony could remember well the incident in which Redacted had killed for the first time, the smell of acid and gunpowder mixing in the air. That man had teeth that could tear through flesh, but he wasn’t as broken as Anthony was to do anything about it. At least not yet.

Anthony was jealous, that was for certain. He just wasn’t sure if he was jealous of Redacted’s sharp teeth, or of the pencil being marked by Redacted’s bite.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Redacted scolded again. “What are you looking at?”

Instead of speaking, Anthony reached his hand forward and towards Redacted’s face. The smaller man flinched slightly; while they did know each other since childhood, they had barely reconnected. Plus, a small part of him still felt guilty for meeting up with the infamous Creekside Killer behind Sarah’s back. Once Anthony’s hand made contact with Redacted’s cheek, he pressed his thumb against his upper lip, causing Redacted to comply and open his mouth.

“I could use a bite like yours,” Anthony replied calmly, his voice deep and gravelly. “Since when did your teeth get so sharp?”

Redacted wasn’t quite sure what Anthony meant, but he felt his face get hot anyways. Still grabbing his cheek, Anthony pulled their faces in closer as the killer continued to examine his teeth. Redacted wasn’t trying to, but he could taste the saltiness of Anthony’s thumb in his mouth, his cheeks flushing as the other man’s eyes scanned him with a quiet intensity. Then, Anthony drew his thumb over the point of Redacted’s canines, pressing in as if to test if he could draw blood.

Redacted finally gained the courage to bring his hand up, grab Anthony’s by his wrist and pull his hand away. “What are you, my dentist?” he jabbed back. He was still feeling slightly embarrassed, and Anthony’s face was still so close to his.

Anthony was still staring at his mouth. “I want to feel them.” 

Redacted froze. He still didn’t know what that meant, and every possible theory was running through his mind. It was like he short circuited, because he couldn’t even react in time once Anthony leaned in and pressed his lips and his. With a quick swipe of Anthony’s tongue against his lips, Redacted’s mouth became slack jawed, giving in to the intrusion. He felt Anthony rub his tongue along the edge of his canine, teasingly. Maddeningly.

Once Redacted was able to form a coherent thought, he decided to give the killer what he wanted. With a slow and steady force, Redacted bit down on Anthony’s lip, hard enough that they both began to taste the sting of iron in their mouths. Anthony didn’t even flinch at the pain, instead he released from Redacted and licked his lip with a curiosity. Redacted leaned back as well, panting heavy as he watched a small trace of blood trickle down Anthony’s lip.

“I-I’m sorry,” he said breathlessly. Anthony didn’t respond, instead he brought his hand up to his chin to wipe away at the crimson liquid. He grinned as he looked at the blood on his fingertips. 

Maybe Ian could bite after all.

[estella2707]

Impossible Standards

Chapter 3

Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

The next night, the moon was shining brightly in the night sky as the Bridgerton's family carriage pulled up outside of the Queen's palace along with many others around them. Families gathered around as they headed inside the ballroom, debutantes eyeing the suitors as everyone waited for the Queen's arrival. Anthony and his family entered as they all split up among the crowd, Eloise walking over to Penelope Featherington as they started to chat as Violet then headed over to Lady Danbury and so on.

The Queen entered shortly after with you by her side, she then walked to the center of the room as she cleared her throat and spoke up to make an announcement. "Ladies and Gentlemen as you all may have heard over the last few days that we have a special guest joining us for the season, I would love to introduce you all to the Princess of Spain, Y/N L/N!" You curtsied as everyone around you clapped. You are dressed in the most gorgeous purple silk gown adorned with beautiful sparkling jewels, your hair and makeup done flawlessly.

Anthony stared at you from afar in awe of your beauty. You were so infuriating...yet so damn attractive it was merely impossible not to stare at you. The Queen sat on her throne as you stood by her, multiple suitors coming up to you and eagerly introducing themselves asking if they could have a dance. You smiled as you politely declined them, excusing yourself as you walked over to the refreshments as you grabbed and chugged down a glass of champagne. Anthony chuckled as he walked over to you and whispered in your ear.

"You seem to have a slight alcohol problem princess" He whispered harshly as he chuckled. You scoffed as you looked up at him, maintaining eye contact. "Oh my gosh, your that cabrón from a few days back" You chuckled softly. "You come over here to try to kiss my ass?" You say while smirking. Anthony scowls at you. "Must you always insult me?" "I made one mistake and now I won't ever live it down" He sighs. "I would have never bickered with you if..." You scoff. "If what? If you had known I was a princess?" You laugh. "Does your family know about our little quarrel?" "Shall I tell them about your behavior my lord?" You say smugly. "You wouldn't dare, besides I'm sure a princess of your status has no reason to stoop to something so beneath her such as unnecessary gossip" He says annoyed as you laugh. "Ok, ok your right I wouldn't only because I'm not some little tattle tale...Besides I quite enjoy our little banter we got going on" You smirk as you set down your glass. "I missed that spunk of yours my lord" He chuckles. "I must admit I do rather enjoy how much you challenge me Princess you know exactly how to push my buttons" He says while smirking. I smile as I look back at my glass and sigh. "Gosh I need a real drink...." You mutter under your breath as you look around, then quietly sneaking away from the ball as you look back over at Anthony. "You coming my lord?" You ask in a mischievous whisper as you disappear into the dark halls of the palace. Follow her? Anthony thinks to himself. How intriguing, he could not lie to himself that you had his full attention now. He could either remain a gentleman and stay and watch the dances at the ball or engage in whatever mysterious fun you had in store for him. Anthony sighs as he reluctantly follows after you.

You giggle as you grab his hand and run with him down the dark hallways of the palace, you look around to make sure no one's around as you both sneak into the kitchen and close the door behind you. "You are a mischievous woman Princess, what sort of fun do you have in store for us?" He asked curiously but also a bit nervous. "Well the first step for any good party is to bring out the good shit!" You giggled as you reached into one of the taller cabinets and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. He chuckles as he observes her. "Well then I must say the Princess of Spain sure knows how to have a good party" He smiled as he watched her and he was quite surprised to see her reach for the liquor in the kitchen. His brothers would have died from the shock if they ever saw something similar with a lady. As she popped the cork on the bottle of whiskey his eyes were glued to her.

I pour ourselves both some into glasses as I then run over and grab some cinnamon rolls from the counter. "I had the servants secretly make these for me, I was planning on eating them alone but all is better with company" I place them down as I sit up on the counter and kick off my shoes. "That’s much better, those heels were killing me!

The fact that, of all the people the Princess of Spain would share her secret stash of cinnamon rolls and whiskey made Anthony feel quite special. He had never seen this informal and confident side to a woman before. She was a unique woman, she had caught his attraction in every manner. Even the tiny bit of her neck showing above the low cut dress was enough to cause his heart to beat just a little faster.

Anthony takes a sip of whiskey as you bite into your cinnamon roll, sitting silently in each other's company. "So...how's the hunt for a suitor going?" Anthony asks trying to make conversation. You laugh. "It's been alright I guess...to be completely honest...I don't even really wanna find a husband" You say softly as you down your small glass of whiskey. "So then why come all the way out here?" "Your the Princess of Spain for christ sake you could get any man...was there another reason for coming out all this way?" "Or do you just not want the responsibility of being in a relationship?" He asks curiously. "I just...I didn't want to be in Spain anymore" You say sadly. Anthony takes a moment to study your face, he clearly knows there's more that your not sharing but he doesn't want to pry.

"Besides I don't have to explain myself to you" You say coldly as you hop off the counter. "You wanna talk about responsibilities yet you make excuses to avoid everything because your just a coward" You say coldly. "Why must you be so cold?" "It's like every time we take a step forward we go three steps back!" He says annoyed as you scoff. "Why would you even care my lord? You don't even know me, I mean nothing to you so why don't we just keep it that way" You say coldly as you stare into his eyes. He sighs as he takes a step towards you.

"Whatever it is you may be going through...at least know you have someone here who's willing to listen" He says softly as he heads for the door. "Thank you for the drink y/n and if you ever need any company...just come find me" He exits as you stand there now left alone in the kitchen as you look back over at the bottle of whiskey, you grab it as you walk over to the sink and pour it's liquid down the drain and angrily smash the bottle on the floor. You sigh as you quickly maintain your composure, you put back on your heels and fix yourself up as you put on a brave face and head back down the halls and inside the ballroom.

Why did being alone now feel even more lonely? Who knows...maybe if you get bored enough you'll take him up on that offer.

[d4yl1ghts]

Hi could I request an Anthony bridgerton story where he had an argument with his wife (perhaps because he was stressed and found her clingy )so she gives him the silent treatment and acts cold to him until he basically begs for her forgiveness

attached

anthony bridgerton x wife, fem!reader

summary: you and your husband have an argument after he complains about you being too attached to him for his liking

warnings: p in v, orgasm, cunnilingus, fingering, praise kink, begging, breeding kink (maybe), unprotected sex, nudity, switch!anthony, switch!reader

-

You were attending yet another ball with your husband, the brooding Anthony Bridgerton, and you were talking with Penelope in the corner. Glancing around, you took in the beautifully chosen decor against the lighting. Amidst the line of people, your eyes only focused on Anthony as his chocolate eyes sparkled with the glisten from the chandelier.

You couldn’t help yourself. He looked so gorgeous and so you headed over to him after bidding your goodbyes to Penelope. “Hello, Lady Y/N.”, he smirked at you teasingly. Your cheeks heated up. “Good evening, my Lord.”, you replied. “Gentlemen, this is my lovely wife.”, he introduced you to the group of men he was chatting to.

“Nice to meet you.”, they all said. You grabbed his hand gently and snuggled into his side slightly. “Okay, my love, have you talked to Eloise about her new book that you recommended to her yet?”, he asked in an awkward fashion. You shook your head. “Why don’t you go and find her, hmm?”, he questioned as he pried you off him.

You walked off sulking. Why did he wave you off like that? Fortunately, you were still in earshot and so when he stated: “Sorry, gentleman, she tends to get a bit attached in social situations. She doesn’t like being on her own.”

You quickened your pace as you reached a door that lead outside, you needed some fresh air. You weren’t that clingy, were you? Surely not. Yes, you did cuddle into his shoulder every so often but that was only showing your husband affection. You sighed to yourself as you elegantly glided back into the ballroom.

As you avoided his gaze all night, he had finally had enough and decided that it was time for the both of you to go to your manor. He looked furious in the carriage as did you. Once you had arrived home, you walked hastily in through the entrance. “Darling.”, Anthony called out quietly. You turned around. “Hmm?”, you said bitterly. “What’s wrong?”, he asked cluelessly. You rolled your eyes as you went upstairs to your joint bedroom and took off your corset before pulling the covers over yourself.

Anthony followed shortly after and you turned your back to him. He moved his calloused hands to hold you but you shook his steady grip off of you. He huffed in defeat.

It was finally time for breakfast. You made sure to eat fast to avoid your husband. As you got up from your chair to leave, Anthony needily grabbed your wrist. “Please.”, he said quietly. “Tell me what is wrong.”, he stated as he gazed at you with soft eyes. You glared at him before snatching your wrist back.

You were writing in your diary when you noticed that Anthony was at the doorway. “Please. Dont avoid me. How am I meant to be a better husband if you don’t tell me what I have done wrong?”, he questioned in one breath. You sighed as you finally made eye contact with him. “For a start, don’t call me attached and clingy.”, you said with venom in your tone.

“Dear.”, he gently touched your fingers. “I didn’t mean it like that. I love your attention, I promise. It just makes it hard to focus when I’m trying to make some business trades.”, he stated as he looked at you pleadingly. “And it doesn’t make a man look like a powerful business man when I’m drooling over you.”, he finished. He stared deeply into your eyes before passionately attaching his lips to yours and slipping his tongue in between yours.

You pulled away. “Beg for me.”, you whispered. He slowly got down onto his knees and looked up at you with those sweet brown eyes. “Can I touch you, my Lady?”, he asked as he maintained eye contact. “Yes.”, you simply stated. He worked on undoing your corset. Once you see naked, Anthony robe his tongue across your hard nipples before gently sucking them. He then kissed down from your breasts to your pussy.

He glanced up at you with hungry eyes, asking you for permission. You nodded and he pushed two fingers into your wet core. You sighed quietly. He moved them in and out at a fast pace. You stifled your moans with a pillow. “Darling, let me hear your moans, please.”, he practically begged. He felt himself get hard as he heard your whimpering.

He then added his tongue and expertly moved his to gun across your slick folds. “So good, Tony.”, you moaned. As you reached your climax, Anthony took off his trousers and you greedily took in the length of his cock. Obviously you had seen it before but you were shocked every time you were shocked at the sheer size of it.

He lined himself up with you and you felt the pre-cum drop off his cock. You grinded your hips into the air at the feel of it. “Can I?”, he asked. You nodded and he rocked his cock in and out of you. He moaned at your tightness. “Good girl.”, he sighed contentedly. He moaned as euphoria came over him and you followed him shortly after. “Anthony, you were so good. I need to see you on your knees again soon.”, you said as you rolled on top of him and kissed him.

[somedayonbroadway]

the office au: crime-aid with medda comforting spot on the whole race situation :))

The Office AU

Love this. Made it a bit more angsty than the tv show, but i feel like Sprace demands angst and I’ve been watching Hazbin Hotel on repeat and need more whump and angst in my life.

Spot was really focused on his computer as he listened to the sound of phones ringing all around him. Nothing was on his computer. Just the standard background that came with the company and unopened apps perfectly placed in alphabetical order on the side. He’d been up all night again, plotting the demise of the world’s worst paper salesman that sat five feet away from him who had somehow managed to lure an angel into an engagement with him.

In fact the thoughts were still whirling through his head. He did have a large cleaver hidden in the tiles above his head. He smiled as he thought about how it would feel to chop the man’s hand clean off.

The thought was halted when an off-white envelope was waved in front of his face. “And one for you, Spottie-Dottie,” Albert sang with a bit of a baby-ish tone. Spot despised the way the man spoke to him.

The man tore the envelope from the man’s hand. “What is this?” he growled, ripping the thing open and freezing when he saw the linen cardstock inside.

“Your Save-The-Date, my good man,” Albert states with a British accent before moving on, not noticing how Spot’s lip hung open ever so slightly as he walked away.

“You set a date?” Spot whispered, his eyes wandering over to the most beautiful accountant in the corner.

Those blue eyes darted away from him the moment Spot made eye contact. Race was chewing on his lip, like he did when he was worried. It was adorable. Spot loved to kiss him when he did that, promising him there was nothing to worry about. He watched the other man concentrate on a sheet in front of him, but the lip biting didn’t stop.

Unable to stop it, Spot just looked back down at the invitation in his hand, running his fingers over the name printed in silver at the top. Anthony Isaac Higgins. He didn’t notice Medda looking over his shoulder with soft eyes, seeing how completely helpless he felt.

He grabbed his pocket knife and a piece of wood from his desk before marching into the break room and beginning to hack at the thing, trying to breathe. None of this made any sense. He couldn’t understand it. Albert was a buffoon. He was nothing. He’d never had any hardship. He’d grown up with everything, but Spot had worked for what he had. He’d made sacrifices. He could protect Race. He could be everything Race would ever need.

Medda sighed as she made herself a cup of tea. “What’re you doin’, honey?”

“Making a knife,” Spot spat at her sharply.

“Makin’ a knife with a knife?” Medda asked skeptically.

“You got a better way?!” Spot snapped. But when he looked up at her, he softened a bit, shaking his head. “Just don’t.”

“You know I know,” Medda insisted. “You could just… talk about it with me instead of pretending like you’re at it alone, like you always do…”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Spot growled.

Medda nodded. “Okay,” she said, sitting back down and flipping through her magazine as she sipped her tea. “You know, my husband—“

“He introduced me ta so many things,” Spot said. “Sign language, people watching… presents just because you wanna show someone you’re thinking about them.” That made Medda melt a little bit. She wasn’t sure she’d ever heard Spot say something that sweet. “I just don’t get it,” he continued quietly.

“What?”

Spot finally looked over at her, shaking his head with a small shrug. “Why is he marrying Albert?” His voice wavered a bit, almost sounding like he was, well… heartbroken.

For Medda it wasn’t a mystery. So she let out another sympathetic sigh and shrugged. “Well… Anthony isn’t really a risk taker,” she explained. “And Albert’s not much of a risk.”

Spot sniffled a bit and ran his sleeve down his face. He shook his head. “I could protect him.”

“I don’t think he doubts that, honey,” Medda whispered. “Why don’t we go for a walk?”

Spot scowled a bit but nodded, grabbing his lunch and waiting for Medda to do the same before they made their way down to a bench outside the building. It was where Spot always went if he needed a quiet place to be alone from these idiots. But today, he needed to talk.

“Ya know, he was the one who asked me out?” Spot said.

Medda raised her eyebrow at that. “Really? I wouldn’t have ever guessed that,” she admitted.

“He puts on this front, like… like he’s reserved an’ all that, but… he loves ta be loud and crazy and when we would go back to his place, he’d take his hearing aid out and when he’d try to talk to me, he’d basically start screaming and he wouldn’t even care.”

A smile spread on Medda’s face at that. She nodded, just letting Spot continue.

“He’s got this thing he does with his tongue when he’s really focused on something. And when he gets excited, he’ll literally bounce up and down like a little kid, it’s so cute,” Spot insisted. “And I love him, Medda… I didn’t know what love was before him, but now I look at him and I know I’m gonna be loving him for the rest of my life…”

Those were the words that really hit Medda hard. “That’s hard,” she admitted. “I’m really sorry, Sean—“

“Thanks for listening,” Spot said suddenly before he stood and left. Medda didn’t try to stop him. She just watched him leave and then looked down at the sandwich he’d left behind.

Well, he didn’t seem to be eating it.

—

They’d been robbed. The whole place. Some idiot left the door unlocked and now, Race’s backup heading aid was missing. He was trying not to be stressed about it but his hands were shaking now because his batteries were also gone and his hearing aid was dying. He could see Oscar trying to get his attention, but he couldn’t hear a word he was saying. It was all a jumbled, muffled mess. He tried to read the man’s lips, shaking his head and trying to make him see that he couldn’t understand.

Someone touched his shoulder. Race whirled around to find Jack standing behind him, still trying to talk to him, but Race shoved at him, yanking his dead hearing aid out of his ear and getting overstimulated and overwhelmed. He had tears in his eyes as he realized everyone was watching him. He looked around for anything safe, for the only other man who he knew he could be safe with, but someone else stepped into his eye line.

Albert smiled at him, not attempting to speak, just gently taking his face in his hands and signing the word “okay” to him, over and over again until Race rushed into his chest, letting Albert hold him in front of everyone because he just couldn’t handle this.

And from across the room, Spot scowled and turned to Medda. “Elevators, now!” he hissed. Before she could even respond, he was already heading to the hallway and all she could do was follow.

She let him take her into the elevator before he forcibly pressed the Door Close button. Then he turned to her, clearly hurt and frustrated. “I know he loves me, Medda. I know he does! He doesn’t need that idiot!”

“Then give him an ultimatum,” Medda insisted. “It’s either you or him. Not both.”

“You think that’ll work?”

“I think it’s the only way you’ll know for sure what his priorities are,” Medda said, getting off the elevator when the doors opened. Then she paused. “Wait, this isn’t our floor— Sean—“ she called as the doors closed on her.

—

Race was finally calmer now, having washed his face in the bathroom. He was trying to get back to his desk, when Spot stepped in front of him. “Can you hear me?” the man asked.

The blond nodded. “Yes. Oscar ran out and got me new batteries—“

“Good, cause I’m only gonna say this once,” Spot said. “You can either end your engagement with that singing moron and date me, or what we have, the secret meetings, the late nights, all of that, gone.”

Race was stunned. He stared at Spot with his mouth agape as he shook his head, looking down. “I don’t know what you mean—“

“Don’t play dumb with me, monkey,” Spot insisted. “You have until six fourteen pm.”

Race sniffled and shoved past him, rushing to return to his desk.

—

When Spot’s stopwatch went off later that day at exactly six fourteen, he looked over to the only person in the world he’d ever loved to find them looking straight at a red headed man who was completely clueless to the world. The auction happening in the background became loud and irritating as Spot rushed from the room, kicking at the door on his way out.

When he came back, he grabbed Medda’s wrist. “Come with me, someone slashed all your tires,” he said.

So Medda stood immediately and rushed out behind him, following him to the parking lot and finding that her tires were actually all flat, but the air had just been let out. “Spot, did you actually let the air out of my tires—?”

“He chose Albert,” Spot insisted, sounding out of breath like he’d circled the building nine times. “What now?”

Medda’s heart broke a bit. “You move on, sweetie—“

“Okay, I’ve moved on,” Spot stated, sounding desperate. “Now how do I get him back?”

Medda stepped towards him and gently took his hand. “Honey… I’m sorry,” she whispered. “You deserve to be with someone who wants to be with you—“

“That’s it? That's all your advice?” Spot demanded.

Medda didn’t respond. She could only shrug. “I’m sorry, Spot. It’s time to find someone who will love you the way you’ve loved him.”

Spot stared at her for a moment before he shook his head and started to walk away. Then he turned around, eyes on the floor. “Thanks, Medda…” he muttered, before he rushed away.

He didn’t know what he’d do next, but at least he knew he wasn’t alone. Not completely.

[goldenretriever-nicknelson]

New Year, Newborn [P.P]

A/N: Happy New Year's Eve! I am so ready for what 2023 will bring and I thought how better to celebrate the new year than with a fluffy dad!peter fic. I also have some angst I might post next week but my course will be restarting so I might not have as much time. Anyway enjoy!

WC: 2.1k

Warnings: none :)

The morning seemed like any other morning, sunlight streamed onto your face unwelcomed after another restless night of sleep. It didn’t occur to you after the rush of the last week that today was anything but a new day. 

The space next to you was cold and empty. Your husband was already out of bed, having responded to the last cry of your newborn son. You wrapped your warm robe around you to guard against the cold December air and made your way to the nursery. 

The sight that met your tired eyes melted your heart; Peter was sat in the armchair next to the crib, his PJ shirt on the floor as he had skin to skin contact with his son. Those parenting books Peter had bought online the moment you had discovered you were pregnant hadn’t been such a waste of time after all. 

Light snores escaped Peter’s lips as he held Ben in his arms. Both of them looked more peaceful then they had since Ben had been born. You snuck a picture with your phone and went to go and grab breakfast as a treat for you and Peter. Parenting was hard work and you thought you both deserved a little well done treat for making it through your first week. 

Benjamin Anthony Parker had been an early Christmas present to the both of you, coming a week earlier than planned. On the 23rd of December at 3:29am a crying bundle of blue blankets was placed in your arms, blinking his eyes open for the very first time to look up at you and Peter. 

Ben’s arrival made Christmas even more hectic than it might have been. More relatives and friends wanting to come over to see the baby and give him Christmas gifts and cuddles. You luckily escaped the mandatory visit to other people’s houses for dinner and parties but you couldn’t escape the joys of newfound parenthood which included lack of sleep and time to yourself. 

Starbucks called your name as you drove past, knowing Peter would go crazy for a coffee and pastry right now. You parked up and yawned as you stepped out of your car, not even really being asked to care if you looked like a mess or not which you were sure you did. 

The door chimed as you entered, the welcoming smell of coffee and frappuccinos filling your senses as you waited in line. You noticed a familiar face working at the counter and smiled as she greeted you. 

“Well if it isn’t Mrs Parker.” 

You laughed and blushed, still not used to being called that even after a year of marriage. 

“Hey MJ. Can I have my usual and a coffee for Pete please?” You smiled, trying to fight back another yawn and grabbing a selection of pastries. MJ nodded and rung up your order. “Still working the holiday job then?” 

“Yeah but it’s only for another few weeks and then it’s back to fighting the system.” MJ smirked, taking a moment to talk to you as the queue died down. You admired MJ becoming a big shot lawyer fighting for the little guy and taking down big companies, it was hard work but if anyone could do it it was Michelle Jones. Whenever MJ was back home she took little jobs to help her family and to help pay the extensive student loans that kept piling up. 

“So any big plans for the night?” 

You looked up and blinked at her, thinking hard about what she could mean. “Unless you mean changing diapers and singing nursery rhymes for the hundredth time then no.” 

MJ smiled and handed you your drinks, squinting her eyes at you. 

“You do know what day it is right?” 

“Of course I do.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes, laughing slightly. “I-it’s Thursday?” 

“Oh Y/n you really are sleep deprived. It’s Saturday and it’s New Year’s Eve.” MJ supplied, sneaking you an extra cookie before going to help another customer. 

You stared at her in disbelief. If it was New Years Eve you would have realized it sooner. Peter always got excited at New Years, saying it was the hope of a new year crammed into one night. 

“I’m going to Ned’s party if you want to come but you don’t have to.” MJ snapped you out of your trance, smiling at you as she ate her own cookie. 

“Why weren’t we invited?!” You spoke up, feeling offended since you and Peter were best friends with Ned and MJ. 

MJ bit her lip and tried not to let out a laugh, leaning on the counter. “You were. You mumbled something sleepily on the phone and then passed it to Peter who did the same thing so we figured you were too tired.” 

You hated to admit it but she was right. You couldn’t even remember taking their call or anything about a party invite. You said you would see how you felt tonight before taking your drinks and leaving with a final goodbye to MJ. 

By the time you got home Peter was already awake and giving Ben his morning feed from his bottle. You smiled and kissed his head, placing the coffee cup and pastry in front of him. 

“Thank you baby!” Peter whispered excitedly, stealing a kiss before going back to watching Ben. You ruffled Peter’s hair, noticing how tired he looked and yet how in awe he was of his son. 

You stole Ben after his bottle for a morning cuddle and held him close, giggling quietly as Peter happily ate his breakfast. He must have caught on to the expression on your face quickly because he was pausing the bite of his pastry to come and hold you. 

“Everything okay?” 

You bit your lip and nodded unsurely, leaning into Peter whilst still holding Ben close. “Yeah, it’s just- I didn’t even know it was New Year’s Eve.”

“It is?!” Peter looked at you with wide eyes, in as much shock as you were about what day it was. 

You nodded and sighed, stroking Ben’s face and smiling as he scrunched his little nose up like his Dad does. 

“Ned is having this party tonight,” You caught sight of Peter’s annoyed expression and addressed his question before he could ask it. “We were invited, we were just too tired to notice.”  

Peter tried to think back and had a brief moment of remembrance. “Shi- I mean sugar!” He quickly corrected himself and put a hand over his mouth. Peter had made up nonsense words and random ones to cover up his swears including map, witch, bam and your personal favorite fudgearoonies. Even without a child in the house it wasn’t unusual for Peter to say things like that instead of swearing. 

You giggled and gave Ben back to Peter, smiling wide as he made funny faces at him. They walked to the nursery. You went to grab your own breakfast before quickly turning back as Peter gasped and called for you. 

“What?! Is Ben okay?” Your parent senses, much like Peter’s own spidey senses went into hyperdrive as you rushed into the nursery, breathing a sigh of relief as you saw Peter was smiling and holding Ben in his arms. 

“He smiled! He smiled at me!” Peter looked at you with watery eyes, bringing Ben over to you. “And not like a gassy smile, a proper smile!” 

You remembered when Peter had been excited last time Ben ‘smiled’ only for the real reason to be discovered moments later through smell. 

You watched as Peter did his funny faces, trying to get his son to smile at him once again for you to see it. It was a perfect moment to see especially as Ben made a smile at his Dad and you could see it reach his little eyes just like Peter’s smile did when he was really happy. 

“Oh my god!” You smiled wide too and kissed Ben’s head, joining in with making funny faces so you could see it again and maybe even grab a picture of it this time. A tear fell down Peter’s cheek from pure happiness as he watched his son smile for the first time and the second and the third. 

Eventually Ben grew tired of people pulling faces at him and became fussy, wanting nothing more than to nap. You and Peter set him back down in his crib and smiled, holding each other close as you watched him fall back to sleep. Something you wished you could do at that moment. 

And Peter almost tempted you to do exactly that, getting as far as pulling you into the bedroom before the doorbell rang. You both sighed as the doorbell woke up Ben. 

Peter went to comfort Ben whilst you got the door, opening it to see May on the other side. You smiled and warned her against the doorbell to which she apologized. You could hardly stay mad at her when she was carrying what smelt like her homemade roast chicken. 

“I know parenting isn’t easy but if anyone I know can do it, it’s you two.” May comforted you, giving you a hug and expressing her worry for how tired you seemed. You insisted you were fine but she saw right through you. 

“It’s normal to be tired, babies are hard work.” May laughed and started telling stories of little baby Peter and how he was a fussy baby from the very beginning. You laughed and finally felt yourself relax for a moment as Peter walked in carrying a calmer Ben. 

“There’s my grand nephew!” May made grabby hands towards Ben for a cuddle and Peter happily handed the small baby to her. “And my grown up nephew.” May smiled and pulled Peter in for a hug as well, reiterating what she had already said to you. 

May even offered to take Ben out for a little bit of fresh air to which you gratefully accepted. Peter and you even managed to get 30 whole minutes of uninterrupted sleep, cuddled in each other's arms. 

By the time the night fell when everyone was getting ready to go out or get drunk, you and Peter were singing your son to sleep. You blamed Peter for making Ben’s favourite song a Ramones song but the way Peter sang it was enough to make up for that fact. He would never admit it but Peter’s voice was beautiful, gentle and soft. You hadn’t heard it that much until Ben was born and it was just one of the many things you were thankful that Ben had brought you. 

May’s roast chicken was all gone by the time the clock reached eleven. Ben had already woken up 3 times in the past 2 hours and you had even called May to check that nothing was wrong with him. Peter spent half of the time sitting in the small armchair next to the crib, watching Ben and humming softly to himself. You joined him and sat on his lap, cuddling into your husband’s chest. 

A loud commotion sounded from outside of your apartment, people cheering and shouting “Happy New Year!” as they celebrated. You stirred from your sleep, not even remembering having drifted off as you calmed Ben down quickly and looked out of the window. 

Ben was entranced by the stars outside and the fireworks that were going off in the sky. Colours of all kinds lighting up the dark night sky and the loud bangs, even though distant were enough to wake Peter up. 

“Hey.” He mumbled sleepily, wrapping his arms around you and kissing Ben’s head. Peter rested his head on your shoulder and looked out at the view before noticing the time. “Happy new year princess.” 

You looked at him in surprise before noticing the clock, it read 12:03. “Happy new year Petey.” 

You smiled softly and kissed Peter’s lips, a tradition you had kept up since high school. You had always been each other's New Year's kiss even when you were both too oblivious to realise how you felt about each other. 

Peter kissed you back sweetly, the taste of his lips pulling you back in for more until a tiny hand reached up to your face causing both of you to giggle. “And happy new year to you, too little guy.” 

“He already doesn’t like us kissing.” Peter joked, pecking your lips once more before blowing a small raspberry on Ben’s cheek. You giggled and did it to the other side of his face, making Ben smile once more. 

You didn’t care what the new year brought you as long as you kept hold of what was right here in your arms. That was all that mattered.

Taglist: @marvel-lock @farfrombarnes @parkerpeter24

Tagging moots: @sunflowerspidey @glowunderthemoon @the-girl-in-the-chair @seolaseoul @spideyspeaches

[superpositvecloudshipper]

Anthony lockwood x injured reader

Taglist-@givemea-dam-break

(sorry I couldn't find a. Gender neutral pic so I just went with this one also I don't draw it)

Y/n's pov:

Urgh your head felt like it was splitting open your legs felt like they were going to snap in half and your side burned.

It was quite obvious your case hadn't gone well you had ignored the others protests and snuck of to do a solo case you had made it back now at around 2am so hopefully no one would notice and you could clean yourself up and go to bed. But of course as you entered the house and walked past the living room you saw lockwood sitting in a chair arms folded ankle balenced over his knee. "hey" you said quietly not making eye contact even though you could feel his stare burning into the front of your face.

"why did you go alone?" "We all told you not to". He spoke smoothly standing up and walking over to you placing one hand under your chin and tilting it up to look into his dark eyes. "I'm sorry but I just wanted yo earn a little money and help that poor family before anyone else got hurt."

You had met the family their eldest son had been ghost locked and almost killed by an angry type two wraith you couldn't stand the thought of the family being forced to stay their and suffer so you had gone despite having no information and it all being rushed. This meant it was no surprise that there had been more than three angry type tows you had been thrown out a window gotten smashed onto a glass cabinet and fallen down several flights of stairs. You where very lucky not to have broken anything buy your entire body was sore and stiff and you didn't know if you could cope with being lectured right now. Seemingly sensing that lockwood grabbed a first aid kit that had been purposefully set on the table next to the couch and pulled you down next to him.

Anthony's pov:

They seem very hurt I won't lecture them until tommorow I don't want them getting more stressed out I will just patch them up and get them to have some rest. "Y/n please take of your jacket and lift up your shirt" I say as carefully as I can helping them remove some of their clothes leaving them in their bra/shirtless I blushes slightly red at seeing them like this they had faint scars running over their body but I focused on the new cuts gently cleaning and covering in gauze. As I cleaned the rest of their cuts they yawned. "y/n you need to sleep let's get you to bed"

Y/n's pov:

From all the events tonight I know I won't sleep even though I'm exhausted I will have horrid nightmares of losing him I can't not tonight so I sleepily shake my head. Lockwood stands up gently but forcefully pulling me with him as I protest as we walk up the stairs u suddenly notice that we aren't in mh room but his. He walks over to his cabenit pulls out a soft grey sweatshirt and gently chucks it to me. "is this for me?" you ask confused.

"yes silly now since your insistent on not getting sleep you may aswell lay down with me since you and I both know its the nightmares that are stopping your sleep so maybe if your with me I can stop them." you blush a little as you pull on the shirt lockwood let's you change out of your trousers and pull on some of your sleeping shorts you left in here(he's let you in a couple times before)

"thank you Anthony" you say quietly as you settle next to him after you've both changed

"don't worry about it n/n I'm always here for you" he says before pulling you close as you relax and let yourself succumb to sleep as lockwood does aswell. Tommorow you will both fight over what happend and what you should and shouldn't be allowed to do but for now your both safe and have each other and that's all that matters.

Hope you enjoyed comment for a part 2 and jut for general support or ideas you have. Have a great day/night xx @givemea-dam-break