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#I kind of love it and hate it at the same time

leah-lover · 1 day

Text

Entangled desires. Leah Williamson x Alexia putellas x reader.

Part 1

“ Fuck me!” You semi yelled at your TV.

“Only if you beg me for it.” Said your girlfriend with a smirk on her face. You were both laying on the couch. She was laying on your lap reading a book, while you were watching the Arsenal vs Chelsea game. Chelsea have just broke through the backline and scored a goal. In their defense the goal was pretty incredible, but you hated that your team got scored against.

“ I would love for you to fuck me amor but not now, I am too busy “ you joked. “You have been stressed for about 50 minutes now. I think you need a release.” She said sarcastically, The book is now laying on her chest. “ Mi Reina, this game is so important for my sanity right now.” you respond. She didn't talk after that, she just turned on her side, her head still on your lap. She put the book aside and focused on the game.

The rest of the match was pretty exciting. There were some missed shots from both teams, a goal from Arsenal, some decent shot blocks from the Arsenal defense, and just overall a lot of tension. Alexia stood up from your lap by the time the final whistle blew. She was alert and satisfied. You were more than happy with Chelsea's defeat since you were a die hard Arsenal supporter. As a result, in celebration, you kissed your girlfriend. The kiss was soft and filled with passion. You then pushed Alexia on her back, straddled her lap and kissed her hard. You didn't want any space between you two. You were hungry for her, needy for her, all you wanted was her touch. The adrenaline from the game took over your body. Suddenly, it all went away and was replaced by tiredness. “ It's okay baby it happens.” She confronted you because you pulled out of the kiss and sighed loudly.

“ I am so sorry.” You apologized. “ Let's go cook dinner instead. Then we can finish later.” She added, a small smile on her face.

At the dinner table you sat opposite each other. You were both comfortable in the silence.

“ That arsenal defense was really good today.” She said, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, most of them are lionesses, so they are pretty good.” You answer.

“ Leah Williamson, the center back, is the captain of England right?”

“ She is the captain, she also captained the team today. She is pretty good.”

“ She was excellent today, made some pretty good deflections.”

“ And?”

“ What do you mean?.”

“ Mi Reina, tell me what you think.”

“ Well she is kind of attractive I guess. If you tell this to someone you won't like your punishment.”

“ Baby relax,I won't. I promise. Now let's go finish what we started after the game.”

“ What do you think about her?”

“ Leah ? Well I agree with you she is hot.”

—----------------

Tonight was one of the best nights of the year. The fifa best awards. This night was special because you were being awarded the best female player in the world which made you very proud of yourself. You were also proud of your girlfriend who made it into the best starting 11 in the world along with you and a few legends of the game.

You and Alexia got ready in the same room. You decided on an emerald green corseted dress that highlighted your chest and your brown hair. Alexia decided on an all black 3 piece suit paired with a red lip and her hair down.

The day leading to the ceremony had nothing out of the ordinary. You did your media duties, got ready, and left for the red carpet.

You and Alexia looked like a power couple, all the cameras were on you two, two of the most awarded and talented footballers. The ceremony was no different either. Kelley Smith presented you with your award and you thanked the most important people in your life in your speech. You talked to a few people but that was it. All the fun started at the after party.

While you were at the bar getting drinks your girlfriend was far from you talking to some people.

“Can I get two vodka sodas please?” You asked the bartender.

“Can you please make that tree?” Said a British voice from behind you. You turned around to find that the voice was Leah's.

“ Vodka soda is the athlete's best choice of drink right? ?“ she asked.

“ I guess so.” you respond.

“ I am Leah Williamson.” She added.

“ I know who you are. You are pretty recognizable.”

“ Not as much as the woman of the hour. Congrats on your award by the way. Spanish football is lucky to have you.”

You blushed at her words, that's when your drinks were ready. You wanted to talk to her more.

“ Why don't you join me and Alexia at our table?.” You asked hoping to get a yes

“Only for a little while I have my own people to tend to.” She responded.

You proceeded to guid Leah to your table. On your way there you passed alexia who said goodbye to the people she was with to join you too.

“ Ale this is Leah williamson. Leah, this is my lovely girlfriend Alexia.” you introduced the girls.

“ It's very nice to meet you alexia. We should have met a long time ago.” said Leah

“ I am glad we met too. How are you finding the night.” said Alexia. You knew your girlfriend well to know when she is nervous and right now she was clearly nervous, other people wouldn't spot it very well.

“ it's pretty boring actually. This is the most exciting thing that happened tonight.” responded Leah.

Your relationship with Alexia was common knowledge. However, Leah was flirting with the both of you for the better part of the hour and a half that Leah stayed with you. Throughout this time you talked about everything from football to your childhood. Several compliments and flirtatious attempts were made by all 3 of you. Leah’s phone was ringing for most of the time but she didn't answer. She then got a text saying that her teammates left and that she should go to the hotel because the party venue was almost empty. You didn't realise the time that passed, you were too immersed in the fun all of you were having. You were sitting on a couch, Alexia’s hand on your thighs occasionally caressing them, and Leah sat opposite you on a chair.

“ I can't believe they left without me.” she complained.

“ Well they did call you several times but you blew them off.” you responded.

“ but still how am i supposed to talk to them and miss out a second with you two.”

“ You can come with us. We are staying at the same hotel right?” suggested Alexia.

“ yeah but I don't want to intrude.��

“ nonsense, consider it an extension of this lovely night.” you added.

You then got out of the venue. You held Alexia’s hand while Leah walked to your other side.

The car ride was quiet. “ I would kill for a burger right now.” you whispered in your girlfriend’s ear because you were nuzzled in her neck. She then ushered for the driver to change direction to the nearest fast food chain.

“ one quick stop before we release you.” you apologized to leah running you hand on her thigh quickly.

“ No, not at all. I really want this to go on forever.” she responded.

The car stopped, you got your order, Leah and Alexia got a meal too after you provoked your puppy eyes.

You were now blissful on the hotel floor, and eating your burger with Leah Williamson and Alexia putellas. You were focused more on leah than on your burger.

“ shit i dont have my key card. I left it with Keira. God i am such a fucking idiot. ” she said after she finished.

“ Don't ever say that about yourself.” said Alexia who was quieter than usual.

“ what she means is it's fine you can stay here. it's too late to wake her up.” you corrected.

“ No, I can't do that .” she said frantically.

“ Yes you can and you will. It's too late to do anything. Plus we can hang out more. And we can put it to a vote and we both want you here.” said alexia before taking the last bite of her burger.

“ Alexia I can't. There is something. I just can't.” she said before heading towards the door.

Alexia got up and stopped her by her wrist. “ Look, it's alright, stay. Please. “ she said softly.

“ alexia almost never says please.” you added.

“ There is this unresolved tension in me. I can't hide it anymore.” she added, now looking at the floor.

Alexia lifted her head up by her chin, and at that moment we were all nervous. We all shared a look with each other, then looked at the floor, then at each other again. The silence was deafening. We all were thinking the same thing. It was just the matter of who starts.

428 notes · View notes

dannyricsmirrorball · 22 hours

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obsessed • pg10 ੈ✩‧₊˚

ੈ✩‧₊˚ pairings || pierre gasly x girlfriend!reader

ੈ✩‧₊˚ genre || social media au

ੈ✩‧₊˚ summary || inspired by olivia rodrigo’s obsessed. reader is pierre’s new girlfriend who happens to be a pop-star who can’t shake off this obsession she has with his ex.

alt. y/n is obsessed with pierre's ex.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ warning || jealousy? reference to pierre & kika as exes, reader is kind of crazy

ੈ✩‧₊˚ a/n || psa. i love kika so no hate!!!

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc, and 109,082 others

yourusername kisses <3

tagged pierregasly

pierregasly mon amour ❤️

⤷ yourusername mon cœur ❤️

username18 awww i love them sm

username1 last photo is sawr cute

alexandrasaintmleux charles has a picture just like that

⤷ yourusername ofc he does 🙄

⤷ charles_leclerc ?!?

⤷ pierregasly don’t be embarrassed calamari 😉

username73 does she remind anyone else of kika?

⤷ username14 i agree! like her vibes are so similar and even the photos she takes w pierre remind me of kika and pierre

⤷ username36 yeah she’s an international popstar and kika is a glorified influencer… so similar liked by yourusername

⤷ username2 no need to hate on kika, she’s a really popular model but i agree they aren’t the same

⤷ username36 y/n liked my comment?! and then unliked 😭

gracieabrams cutie pie

liked by yourusername, username17, and 17,092 others

f1couxples missing our favourite couple 💔

tagged pierregasly, francisca.cgomes

username13 they were so perfect why did they have to break up?!

username64 he’s in a relationship!!! get over it, u don’t know these people!

username18 they’ve both moved on lol

username91 everybody moved on… i stayed here

username83 i’m deadddd not y/n accidentally liking 😭

⤷ username77 hahahah this isn’t even the first time like girl u are not beating the stalking pierre’s tags allegations

⤷ username35 i reckon she stalks kika’s tags actually 😭 there’s been times she’s liked kika fan acc posts by accident bahahahah

⤷ username9 she’s so feral,, pierre literally left kika for her and she’s still acting like this

⤷ username61 you’d think she was in love w HER and not pierre

liked by yourusername, lailahasanovic, and 135,864 others

francisca.cgomes last night 👄

username81 the prettiest girl in the world

username14 y/n lurking in the likes yet again 😭

⤷ username74 aren’t they friends tho?

⤷ username46 i mean pierre broke up w her for y/n so erm idk if kika would call her a friend

⤷ username71 you’d think they’re best friends from how often i see her on kika’s page

username17 pierre fumbled

⤷ username62 he fumbled a baddie for another more unhinged crazier baddie

liked by username72, username10, and 14,029 others

f1wagcentral kika talking about y/n on portuguese radio show some time ago - when her and pierre were still together (10/3/2023)

username61 nah her saying jealousy, jealousy is crazy

⤷ username3 why? i’m new to the fandom

⤷ username61 basically jealousy, jealousy is about kika - well allegedly but it’s really obvious

⤷ username3 oh i thought they were good friends when kika and pierre were together?

⤷ username61 well i mean yeah but everyone else could tell that she was in love w pierre (even kika)

username35 forever missing the friendship we could’ve had between these two

liked by username79, yourusername, and 21,029 others

f1wagcentral NEW! ex-wag kika talking about her ex boyfriend, pierre gasly’s current girlfriend, y/n y/l/n’s new album GUTS. (13/1/2024)

username14 kika is better than me bc if my ex left me for his girl best friend he told me not to worry about (that acted like my best friend and wrote songs about me) i would not be this nice

username61 classy girl

username91 i could not be kika bc her situation would ruin y/n’s music for me but like i could not imagine life without it 😭

username2 why are they still asking this poor girl questions abt her ex’s ex?

liked by luisinhaoliveira99, flavy.barla, and 183,761 others

yourusername loml

tagged pierregasly

username13 pinterest couple

username63 gagged bc isn’t this the same dress kika wore last week

⤷ username4 yes. yes it is. 😭

pierregasly ❤️

⤷ yourusername ❤️

username35 making me feel single in every way possible

charles_leclerc 3rd slide 🥵

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux 2nd slide 🥵

⤷ yourusername 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

⤷ pierregasly 👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨

liked by magui_corceiro, alexandrasaintmleux, and 98,747 others

francisca.cgomes reflexões

username81 the prettiest girl ever

alexandrasaintmleux 😍

magui_corceiro lindaaa 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

username46 out of this world

ben_thorne cool girl

carmenmmundt gorgeous ❤️

liked by pierregasly, alpinef1, and 150,738 others

yourusername play mirrors by justin timberlake

username18 she’s crazy

username84 no way she just blatantly copied kika 😭😭

⤷ username17 wow mirror selfies how original

⤷ username84 i mean u have to admit it can’t be a coincidence that she posted a post w all mirror selfies even mentioning it in the caption right after kiak did the same thing. but i can’t blame her after everyone keeps rubbing kika and pierre in her face still

pierregasly mon cœur ❤️

⤷ alex_albon mate she’s crazy

⤷ lilymhe but she’s free!

alexandrasaintmleux y/n 😭

⤷ yourusername alex 😛

charles_leclerc HAHAHAHHA

liked by alex_albon, lewishamilton, and 128,208 others

yourusername love ya london

tagged pierregasly, lewishamilton

username17 my parents frrrr

username83 not sir lewis 💀

lewishamilton 🤣

username91 almost forgot she was a singer bc we’ve been in a music DROUGHT

username73 THIS IS NOT A DRILL Y/N BACK IN THE STUDIO!! 🚨

sabrinacarpenter keen baby 💋👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

pierregasly love ya 😜

⤷ yourusername 😐

pierregasly belle ❤️

pierregasly my pretty gorgeous girlfriend

pierregasly mon amour 🙏

⤷ yourusername no. stop trying.

⤷ pierregasly but you let alex listen?!

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux i’m her wife ofc she let me listen

⤷ pierregasly dégagé

⤷ charles_leclerc stay mad

⤷ pierregasly NO HIM TOO???

⤷ alex_albon when u said alex hope u know that meant both…

⤷ lilymhe and me 😊

⤷ pierregasly wtf.

⤷ charles_leclerc mate i think it’s better for YOU not to listen

username17 omg what do we think the new music is about?! she didn’t let pierre listen but everyone else??? a love song?!

⤷ alex_albon you could call it that i guess…

liked by yourusername

liked by ben_thorne, yukitsunoda0511, and 201,829 others

yourusername 🔜

username81 i can’t wait any longerrrr

username2 album? ep? single?

⤷ yourusername single 💋💋

⤷ username2 we’ll take what we can get!!!

username62 the song HAS to be a love song she keeps using pics of pierre

⤷ username3 or she’s just that obsessed

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux @yourusername lol

⤷ yourusername lol.

⤷ charles_leclerc HAHHAAHHAHAH

⤷ username3 WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?!

francisca.cgomes excited 💗!!!

⤷ yourusername 🤍

⤷ username7 y/n kika interaction in the good year of 2024 🙏

username17 eeee so excited

username65 finally a love song from our queen!

username80 awww can’t wait for a cutsie love song for pierre

alex_albon everyone in the comments is in for a nice surprise

⤷ yourusername 😭

liked by sabrinacarpenter, pierregasly, and 309,028 others

yourusername obsessed out now on all platforms (+mv) 💋

username71 AHHAHA NO FUCKING WAY

username9 that shit hittttt

francisca.cgomes can’t wait abt to give a listen 🩷

⤷ username81 oh- girl…

⤷ username7 the deleted comment 😭😭

alexandrasaintmleux my unhinged wife 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

charles_leclerc crazy woman

username4 her BLOOD TYPE?!

landonorris banger i reckon

username61 IS SHE GOOD IN BED? girl if u don’t stand tf upppp

username7 all this sleep lost over a french man

pierregasly mon dieu bebe😭

⤷ yourusername i love you 🥰

⤷ pierregasly i love you too…

username16 i get her tho i mean i would also be obsessed w my bf’s ex if she was kika mf gomes

⤷ username7 valid but like also shes y/n mf y/l/n

username81 everyone gagged but this is the same girl who wrote jealousy jealousy allegedly also abt kika 😭😭

⤷ username72 also i feel like her online behaviour very much supports this song…

username27 need someone to make a run down of the lyrics and the irl counterparts

⤷ f1couxples on it 🫡

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername, and 1,082,747 others

pierregasly my crazy baby released a song about how crazy she is for me ❤️

tagged yourusername

yourusername crazy for u baby 🥹

⤷ pierregasly my gremlin

charles_leclerc you make her seem so sweet

username61 my guys is loving this

username84 i just know pierre secretly loves that she’s so feral about him

landonorris 🦶🦶?!? @yourusername

⤷ yourusername fuck off

username73 still need that lyric breakdown

⤷ f1couxples coming up

liked by username8, username74, and 20,0828 others

f1couxples BREAKDOWN of obsessed by y/n y/l/n

singer-songwriter, y/n y/l/n, the girlfriend of pierre gasly has released a song obsessed that many fans suspect is about the driver’s ex girlfriend - francisca gomes. for context, y/n and pierre are childhood best friends. during the time kika and pierre dated (2022-2023) fans observed y/n’s somewhat jealous behaviour which finally materialised when pierre left kika and after a matter of weeks was seen with his best friend.

here’s a breakdown of some of the lyrics! reminder this is all personal opinion and no hate to anyone involved!

If I told you how much I think about her

You'd think I was in love

And if you knew how much I looked at her pictures

You would think we're best friends

this in general just can be brought down to all the times y/n has been caught accidentally liking fan acc posts of kika or kika&pierre. stalking queen 🫡🫡

'Cause I know her star sign, I know her blood type

in the third picture we have a screenshot from an interview on a popular portuguese radio show. she talks about how y/n did her entire zodiac chart!

She's talented, she's good with kids

random but kika is known for her large family and often posts with her many little cousins and nieces/nephews - especially when she was with pierre (last slide)

She even speaks kindly about me, ha-huh

the third photo is a screenshot from interview kika did in barcelona- she praises y/n and gives many nice comments. there are various other instances where kika says kind words about y/n.

But every time you call my name, I think you mistake me for her

the 5th photo in the carousel is from the 2023 vegas gp, kika’s visibly upset facial expression and the physical distance between the couple is apparently due to a fight they had earlier in the paddock. bystanders and a small audio evidence clip suggest that pierre accidentally called kika ‘y/n’ during their argument - so really pierre actually mistook kika for y/n 😬

You both have moved on, you don't even talk

obviously pierre moved on very quickly with y/n (many believing he broke up with kika just to be with y/n) as well kika has been seen on dates since the break up. additonallu, although the pair still follow eachother and have stated they remain friends- kika and pierre have not liked any posts of the others and haven’t been seen interacting even when kika has visited the paddock.

Is she friends with your friends? Is she good in bed?

as seen in the fourth photo, kika was very good friends with pierre’s friends especially his trainer ben thorne and close friend ilies nadri. as well, all of pierre’s friends still follow kika including charles leclerc.

francisca.cgomes uploaded to their story

francisca.gomes uploaded to their story

yourusername uploaded to their story

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

first one in awhile! lmk what u think x

#formula 1 #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly #charles leclerc #f1 x reader #social media au #charles leclerc x reader #alexandra saint mleux #francisca cerqueira gomes #kika gomes #lando norris #lily muni he #formula 1 x reader #formula one

239 notes · View notes

i4oba · 2 days

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nct dream as… !%# types of dates .. 🥣⋆☄︎. *. ⋆

[non-idol ver.! just so you know eheh]

✰ MARK — drive-in theater

it honestly came to mind pretty randomly, as you two got back from your last exam of the semester, driving mindlessly for about two hours — not because you didn’t know what you want to do, but because you two simply just enjoyed doing nothing??? but so many things at the same???

just listening to the mixtape you made for mark, singing so loud everyone could hear since the windows were rolled down too… you felt a sense of freedom? some kind of… relief from the burdens??? it was a pretty hectic exam season you two had to endure and since it was finally over.. you couldn’t keep your excitement low

looking at each other with love and adoration, exhaustion vanishing in the company of the other one — it honestly should be studied? how easy it is for you two to affect the other???

you stumbled upon the drive-in theater by accident, it wasn’t planned or anything, you just wanted to simply spend your night at mark’s place and call it a day, watch a movie on his laptop while cuddling and stuff

but when you spotted the sign you couldn’t help but exclaim, getting all excited over it, even slapping mark’s upper arm… poor boy winced and just said “hey, no need to kill the driver”

you didn’t even need to convince him honestly, he immediately agreed and there you were… not knowing what was actually screening, blindly finding a good spot you two can park and enjoy the movie

it would’ve slapped if it was some kind of slasher horror from the 80s… but it was casablanca

WHICH IS SO CLICHÉ I KNOW BUT it makes So much sense and honestly, it’s such a big game changer to see it like that. it’s like an opportunity you shouldn’t miss

mark got some popcorn and something to drink, to make the whole atmosphere even more “vibey”, as he said, and you two just.. turned off your minds and watch the movie

discussing it and everything, like FELLAS, that’s the right experience! that’s how you watch a movie!!! YOU GOTTA ANALYZE THE SHIT OUT OF IT!!!!!!! ahah

in the end, when almost everyome drove away from the theater, leaving you two here with like.. only 3 other cars, mark gave a kiss on your lips, as a way of celebrating it all. it was for a fleeting moment only, yet it was so sweet and full of emotions

it was a reward, of some sort.

✰ RENJUN — museum date

there was this new exhibition at the local fine arts museum so… it wasn’t even a question that you two would literally RUN (and get a good use of the student discount ahah, it’s a lifesaver!)

casually choosing some elegant clothes which, of course, had to be matching to a certain extent – people HAVE TO see that you guys are together, plus it would look so good on the pictures

you expected lot more of people since it was the first week of the grand opening but it wasn’t that crowded. Which is a good thing honestly, you hate it when it’s sooo full you cannot even move properly

it was an exhibition of some impressionist works by some of the most renowed painters, it was a must to not only look the best, but to prepare yourself for a long day of strolling around

you usually spend tons of time in museums anyways, but this also as part of a date??? the security would have to kick you out asap.. ahah

renjun immediately reached for your hands to hold, while walking around, looking at the beautiful paintings, talking about whatever came to mind – not just about art itself, topics changed so fast you couldn’t even realize it by the time it did

being in art school meant that renjun can sometimes tell you little fun facts and tips&tricks he had learnt in uni

sometimes it amazes how well informed he is and how he knows so many know-hows.. not like you weren’t aware, you absolutely knew he’s smart AND TALENTED, but still ahah

after a good… 3 hours or so? you two decided to end the date with a quick stop at the museum shop :DDD it’s a must honestly, you gotta buy every magnet and postcard you can… especially of such beautiful paintings???!!! you would be stupid if you left without Anything

so you two bought tons of stuff… even some things you can exchange, as if they were gifts for one another :,) ahhh…

you just have to print out that picture of you two, taken in front of that big painting of mesmerizing flowers: renjun kissing you softly, hands on your waist, eyes closed

✰ JENO — stargazing

you had been planning this for literal days before… you know, getting everything together, like those cool ass lamps in a jar bottle with the led stuff, blankets you bought from a nearby art shop?? which sold basically everything??? ahah

drinks and snacks too… you were honestly So Ready to go stargazing! :D

you were supposed to go to that rather tiny park of the town which is mostly empty. that’s why you decided on going there, avoid people and stuff, just the two of you, looking at the constellations >:( honestly it’s so romantic it makes me Cringe (i crave it)

but in the end, you two decided to stay at yours instead, since your parents left for the weekend anyways, which is just a bonus: it’s the two of you in the backyard with the vast sky full of stars

idyllic??? romantic??? adorable and unforgettable??????

All of the above

at first, you two just sat down on the swing bed your father recently bought at a random flea market he religiously visited every weekend :,)

but then, to use the blanket you brought outside (what a tiresome task ahah), you two laid down on the ground instead

the first constellation you spotted was the big dipper, exclaiming when you noticed it on the sky, gently shoving jeno’s shoulder, who was rather nonchalant at first

he then, of course matched your energy, and got super super excited, especially after noticing the ursa major :D he felt like he accomplished his life goal or something ahah (hes so stupid but in a cute way)

what the cherry on top was is his hands, reaching for yours, fingers intertwining, as your heart warmed up – you looked at him, his beautiful face, and noticed that adorable eyesmile of his

life felt good. you felt at home

✰ HAECHAN — restaurant hop

he fucking hates cooking lmfao he’s all like “yo girl i don’t think we should let Me get near that oven… we might burn up the whole house IJBOL” (he would definitely use ijbol irl)

so you were like…

hyuck, you literally don’t even have to come to kitchen bro, i will cook… which happens most of the times when you decide to stay at home for dates

but this day!!! to spare you from the tiring task of cooking!!!!!!!! he said that you guys should try out restaurant hopping

you were confused as hell honestly, like wdym you want that, aren’t you a picky mf lmfao

but he said that he’s feeling adventurous and is pretty much lazy to go hiking or anything that a sane person would go for

and he felt hungry so it was like the best choice in his eyes – you were sick of spending most of your nights at his (shared…) apartment so you agreed after like… 5 secs of persuading

you wanted to plan out where you should go and maybe book a table at some restaurant but he was all like “honey, we should be spontaneous, go with the flow…”, so you did???? Ahah

the first restaurant was not even a restaurant, it was just the first street food stall you two stumbled upon, getting something for the both of you

you didn’t want to feel full so early so you chose something light (unlike hyuck who was sure he was “alright” but after like the second stop, he was dying because his stomach was hurting “So Badly”)

you ended the restaurant hop with a donut at one of the bakeries you usually go to – you know, to finish it off with something familiar??? now lemme just say, it was chaotic, because haechan could BARELY finish it and made it your problem, whining like a little girl after every bite

like you told him not to get the biggest, sweetest and greasiest one but he was sooo sure in himself, he said he’s got an extra stomach for desserts

well… was he wrong…….

you spent 1.5 hours there!!!!!! he took so much time LMFAOXJAJX they were closing already and he still hadn’t finished

so you tried to rush him and stuff but he turned his princess mode on ahah

but at least, on the way back to his place, he bought you tulips :) it was such a sweet gesture <3

not as sweet as his donut was…… (he almost threw up the next day cause he was feeling nauseous from the food)

✰ JAEMIN — picnic date

jaemin was so excited :( he literally couldn’t stop talking about it like.. that’s right dude!!!!!! we’re going on a date!!!!!! A PICNIC DATE!!!!!

he would literally live in the kitchen before the occasion so that he can cook&bake tons of things for you to eat :) he’s so… he’s so malewife

all you’re left to deal with is bringing the basket and checkered blanket, every other things are settled! they are in his hands, under his control :D

you two went to the park which is right next to the lake – you wanted to see swans while talking about anything and everything that came to mind (he literally compared your beauty to that of a swan… which made you almost tear up like BOY YOU DID NOT… argghhh)

it was a must to start it off with the most basic and cliché thing of everything: the chocolate covered strawberries, feeding each other all lovey-dovey, tooth rottingly sweet and stuff

everyone was possibly like “okay lemme just kms” when they spotted you two, all up on each other, legs all tangled together, stealing kisses from the other, while giggling so loudly

it was SOO so idyllic, almost like you two escaped from a romance movie, or a painting. it felt… perfect, in a way?

birds singing, the sun shining gently on your skin, while you could hear the laughter of the children running around, clouds in animal shapes

then the sun slowly setting, pinkish hues taking up the sky above, everything becoming quiet as time passes by

he hugs you tightly. tighter than ever, perhaps

✰ CHENLE — karaoke

if two weeks pass by without you and chenle going to a karaoke… Most probably it’s because you broke up or something

like girl ain’t no way you WON’T go to karaoke dates… nuh huh, impossible to even think of that ??? CHENLE, out of all people

that’s the least believable thing like i promise you!

like saturday night are for the gir- KARAOKE!!!!! :P that’s how it always goes, getting ready, putting on some casual clothes, maybe eating something quick before that, and then spending the entire time singing your lungs out

you don’t even have energy by the end of it, like it… seems impossible to even crawl back home :,)

but honestly it’s all worth it, comparing your score and stuff, seeing which one of you sings better

sometimes you just open instagram and do lives too, so that your followers can pick who they liked more

(it’s always chenle’s acc though like SO MANY people follows him, he’s like a celebrity… ahah!)

haechan always comes to watch and roasts the both of you, especially when it can be seen that chenle kisses you here and there

he types “EWWWW GET A ROOM FREAKS” and thinks he’s hilarious lmfao

you always start the date with a quick and energetic song, one that boost your energy up easily and then… honestly it depends on your mood

sometimes you gotta be in your moods and sing romantic ballads to each other, as if it’s a serenade

but then again, moods swing so quickly and you can end up in a rap battle too

you would totally eat him up tbh… and he knows it so well

he finishes the date off with the most cheesiest, lovely romantic song ever… like a confession said yet again, for the hundreth time

✰ JISUNG — amusement park

it wasn’t his idea honestly

it was all you coming up with it, because there was that one roller coaster you’d always been scared to go on

and since you haven’t visited ever since you had jisung… you thought MAYBEEEE (just maybe) it would be better with him

you can at least hold onto him and stuff

he wanted to eat before the ride though… you did not let him, of course, since you didn’t want him to throw up on you AHAH

but like, why did he came there RAVENOUS? duh … you’re gonna say goodbye to your guts on the ride girl what did you expect

but you know, the ride wasn’t even the part you enjoyed the most – it was good, of course, just not that… outstanding? i guess? it was alright… especially because you could hold jisung’s hand so tightly :,) it was honestly so adorable

they should’ve taken pictures of you like you’re sure you would’ve put it on the fridge or something

but after that, you went to the gift shop, to get those silly headbands!!!!! you got one that resembled a cat, and jisung got one with a hamster >:( it was adorbs

you two looked like those IT couples that you can always see in instagram, you know, holding hands, taking silly candid pictures and then eating sooo much food

FINALLY!!! thought jisung probably ahah you got so many sweets it was like you could feel your tooth decaying lmfao

at the end of the day, you two decided to try out the freshly opened photo booth which had been going viral for weeks

it was… an experience to say the least :,) but the pictures came out prettier than ever!!!! except for the one where jisung sneezed and you got all scared because he was Loud loud ahah

but the compensation was a fleeting kiss on your cheek! which was also captured on one of the pictures :)

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chrysalind · 3 days

Text

last chance

pairing: kuroo tetsurou/reader wc: 860 tags: pre-relationship, fluff, high school setting (third year), bad flirting, kuroo is really trying

"What'd you get for number 8?" Kuroo asks as he leans over you.

"Umm," you tilt your head and the golden light of the late afternoon sun flickers across your cheek. "I think I put down 1868 to 1912."

"Wait, seriously?" He claps his hand on his forehead. That's five questions he's probably got wrong now, not to mention he'd barely finished writing his second essay, meaning the maximum possible grade he could get is...

"I hate history," he grumbles, trying to redirect his train of thought from its depressing destination. "I'm never taking it in university."

You sigh ruefully. "I feel the same way about chemistry. The moment I walked out of yesterday's exam, every piece of knowledge about thermodynamics just—" you wave your hand near your temple, "—vanished."

"Bet you're glad I gave you my notes though, right?"

The train doors slide open and a crowd of students from another school shuffle in. His legs brush against yours as he tries to make more room around him.

"Only because I gave you my English notes," you counter dryly, moving your bookbag onto your lap as a freckled teen slides into the seat beside you. The small plastic Keroppi charm on its side swings erratically against your thigh.

"A more than fair trade," he reasons. "Especially since I was getting the highest mark in chem, while you were just below Takaichi in English."

"Takaichi's mom is from New Zealand," you reply, with a roll of your eyes. "He's been practically fluent since he was born. Plus, your handwriting sucks, so you get points taken off for that."

Kuroo snorts, but has no choice but to concede. After all, he can barely read his own notebooks from last semester.

He watches as the Tokyo cityscape rushes past, still thrumming with life, even as the sun dips low in the sky. It's hard to imagine an afternoon where he won't be packed into the subway at this time, with his loosened Nekoma uniform tie around his collar, and your occasional company on the afternoons he's able to catch you at the school entrance.

His short spell of mourning is interrupted by the announcer as the train pulls into a familiar station. You both exit onto the platform and make a beeline towards the escalators.

"I'm not staying in Tokyo," he says, as you're halfway through the barriers.

Keroppi's face smacks against your zipper as you pause. "Oh?"

"I'm going to Osaka," he continues, weaving through the crowd. You fall into step beside him and there's a second in which Kuroo thinks he's vastly overestimated his importance in your life.

"That's..." He watches as a crease forms between your brows. "I thought you were going to Tokodai."

"Nah," he says, re-adjusting the strap of his bag. "I think it'd be good to gain some independence, you know?"

"Right," you say, tucking your Suica away. The sound of the city fills in the quiet that follows as you step out of the station.

Truthfully, Kuroo had been hoping for something—anything—more than the pensive silence that now settles between the two of you as you both walk the last few blocks of your high school era. But as you round the corner, the weight of the moment only grows heavier.

From his peripheral vision, he can tell you're sulking with your lips turned down in a pout that you probably aren't even aware of. And even though you've never admitted it to anyone, he's not oblivious to the way you can barely hold his gaze for more than two seconds, or how you linger at the intersection when you part ways.

"You know," he says, as you both stand before a crosswalk, "this is probably your last chance."

Your eyes flash up at him.

"What do you mean?"

He straightens up.

"Your last chance to admit that you're in love with me," he blurts. He had meant for it to come out a bit smoother, maybe aiming for a kind of teasing tone, but something had gone horribly wrong in the last second. Embarrassingly, he feels his own cheeks grow hot at the boldness of his declaration.

The crosswalk indicator changes, but you're both frozen in place.

You blink, looking absolutely bewildered, and he begins to fear that he's broken you.

And then an odd sound emerges from your mouth—a short snicker, followed by an open burst of laughter. Your giggle seems to carry over the noise of the traffic around you and Kuroo tries very hard not to die right then and there.

Instead, he forces himself to laugh along. How could he have miscalculated so bad?

He's sure he'll remember this moment for many sleepless nights ahead.

"Don't worry," you say later with the world's most bemused smile, as you near his building. "It's not my last chance."

Kuroo works up the courage to look you in the eye.

"After all, I still have our graduation ceremony."

#haikyuu x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #from: linde

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xxxdreamscapexxx · 11 hours

Text

Pairing: Mean Mommy!Wanda x Fem!Reader Word count: 700 Warning: NSFW, 18+, lesbian relationship, spanking, teasing, orgasm denial

Guys, I had this idea of sweet, kind, gentle, loving Mommy Wanda who always treats you so well and spoils you endlessly and adores to cuddle you and run her fingers through your hair. She’s the best. And you’ve only been her well-behaved girl so far, because you know she hates brats. Except you really wanna see that other side of her. You wanna know what she’ll do if you actually acted out… So you do. One day you have the audacity to mouth off to her, making her head snap in your direction and her eyes to turn cold. You see the way her jaw clenches as she walks towards you with big strides. “You wanna say that again?” She asks, just inches from your face, voice low. She’s so intimidating like this, so authoritive and demanding, but you’ve started this already so you stick to what you said, actually repeating it to her face. That’s when she snaps. She has her hand around your throat in seconds, backing you further into the room and spinning you around, so she can bend you over the armrest of the couch. She holds you down with one hand on your lower back, while the other lifts up the skirts of your dress and exposes your ass, greedy hands taking fistfuls of it and caressing you roughly. She takes a deep breath to try and calm herself, but she watches you wiggle under her, little gasps falling from your lips as you wait in anticipation and that’s when it clicks for her. You did it on purpose. She chuckles darkly at the thought, licking her lips while she takes you in like that. “You wanted Mommy to be mean?” She asks, her voice seductive and deep. “Well, here it is.” She says, as her free hand rises up and lands harshly on your ass. “While you enjoy your punishment, my darling, I want you to remember that you wanted this.” She warns, with that same dark and seductive voice. Then another slap lands. And another. She takes her time, savouring each one, caressing your cheeks that grow more sensitive and sore by the minute. Eventually she pulls your panties down, but the blows keep coming. She’s rough, just like you wanted and it makes you so unbearably aroused. You’re getting so wet from it and you’re pretty sure she can tell, but she never pays any attention to your pussy. Sometimes her fingers glide near it, so close, yet not close enough and it makes you squeeze your thighs in anticipation. She sees it. Sees the way you’re starting to get slick and needy, but she continues to ignore it entirely, eventually pulling your panties back up and smoothing down your dress. She chuckles when she sees your big, imploring eyes, your sore ass seated on the armrest she just spanked you over, looking up at her with so much hope. It almost makes her break her resolve. Almost. “Yes?” She asks expectantly, while she tucks your hair behind your ear. “Mommy… It…” You’re not sure how to tell her, but you know that she’s not going to help, unless you ask. “I really need you.” You finally say shyly. “Oh you need me…” She repeats, her voice sweet. Too sweet. “Do you want me to make it all better, baby? Is your pussy all needy now? Does it ache for Mommy?” She asks as she reached a hand between your legs, watching you part your thighs for her so eagerly. It’s adorable. “Yes, Mommy, please make it better.” You sigh, when she finally rubs you over your underwear, skilled fingers easily finding your clit and applying a little pressure to make you moan. “Please, it’s so achy.” Your head tilts backwards from the pleasure of her touch and you miss the sadistic smirk on her face. “Good.” She states suddenly, her hand pulling away. “Let it.” She adds cruelly. “Mommy’s not going to touch your pretty pussy today. And you’re not going to touch it either. You’re going to leave it all needy, just like this.” She instructs. “Bad girls don’t cum.”

#writing #lesbian #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #top!wanda #bottom!reader #wanda maximoff smut #scarlet witch

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system-to-the-madness · 2 days

Text

Cherry Blossom Comfort 🌸 Zuko x Reader

Pairing: Zuko x Reader(can be read as any gender, no pronouns used) Genre: fluff Word Count: 1 724 Warnings: Major Spoilers for the graphic novel “The Search” Summary: Zuko opens up to you about his feelings about his family

Sakura Festival Masterlist - Masterlist

Zuko’s head was heavily resting in your lap, cushioned on the deep red fabric of your gown pulled over your soft thighs. His amber eyes watched your face closely as you ran your hands through his dark hair, admiring the way the soft strands so effortlessly slipped through your fingers. It had been a while since you had sat like this. Between the conflict at the former colony of Yu Dao, now its own state, and the immediately following search for Zuko’s mother, there had been little time for any kind of quiet intimacy between Zuko and you.

After you had found his mother, and had returned to the palace, Zuko had been quieter than you knew him to be. He had spent a long time talking to his mother before leaving her and his half-sister in order to return to the palace, and you suspected that whatever they had discussed, was still occupying his mind. Usually, he talked to you about whatever thought he couldn’t get rid of, but so far, he had kept it shut inside, making you wonder if it simply was something he did not want to share, if he didn’t want to share it with you, or if he only needed a little more time to think about it.

A few days ago, he had eventually asked if you wanted to come to Ba Sing Se with him, an invitation you had gladly taken. You were staying at his uncle's place, a small house with only a few rooms, which gave the two of you the opportunity to share the narrow bed and cuddle up each night. In the palace, there were always guards around, and Zuko had been advised that it would be better if the two of you were not to sleep in the same room, at least not too often, to avoid gossip. Zuko had been in an especially bad mood after that for a while, grumbling about how he was your boyfriend and why anybody other than the two of you should be concerned with your relationship. But if he had learnt anything in the year of being Fire Lord, it was that certain advice was better to be followed, and as much as both of you hated it, this was one of the instances.

This in turn meant both of you cherished the time at Uncle Iroh’s home even more. With the excuse of not enough space, you got to share a bed each night, falling asleep in each other’s arms without the concern of guards walking in or starting rumours.

Both of you were aware that you could not hide out in Ba Sing Se forever, but you had agreed that a holiday of a few days would be acceptable, and so you spent the days either helping in Uncle Iroh’s tea shop or talking long walks in the parks that spread wide and far through the city.

Now you were sitting in the garden that belonged to his uncle’s tea shop, back against the trunk of a blooming cherry tree, Zuko laying spread out on the ground, his head resting in your lap. Usually, you would have taken the opportunity to ask him what he was thinking about, but considering the events of the past month, the almost-war at Yu Dao and the reunion with his mother, which he still hadn’t talked about, you thought it would be better if he were the one to talk first. Or not. While you were curious about what had happened, you never wanted to make him feel like you were prying into parts of his life he wasn’t ready to share with you.

His eyes flickered from your face to the pink blossoms above your heads, before focusing back on you, a smile tucking at his lips before he spoke.

“You know,” he began, his voice soft, “For the time in which I was thinking Ikem was my father, I was almost relieved.”

Ikem, the man his mother had loved before having been married to his father Ozai, and the man who she had returned to after leaving the palace.

Quietly you nodded, more to yourself than Zuko. You had suspected as much, judging from his behaviour and how he had talked about Ozai in these days.

“If Ikem had been my father, I’d never have to worry about turning out like Ozai again,” he explained, his eyes almost absentmindedly tracing your features, like a routine that brought him comfort. “I wouldn’t be in danger to turn as crazy and delusional as him, or Azula. And I could have stopped feeling guilty for not being as powerful a firebender as them.”

You wanted to disagree, tell him he was as good as them, but the truth was they were more powerful than he would probably ever be, even though he had by far the better techniques and his skills were more refined. The only ones who had ever looked down on him for that had been the two of them, and to you it couldn’t matter less how good at firebending he was, or whether he was a bender at all. But you had a feeling this talk was better to be had at another time. Right now it was more important that Zuko got to share his thoughts uninterrupted, while he felt safe and comfortable enough to confide you.

“And Azula…” He trailed off, his eyes leaving your face and returning to the blossoms above him. “I always got told these stories when I was little, about siblings sticking together, through thick and thin, like Sokka and Katara. But Azula and I never were like that. Even when I tried to be what I thought a big brother should be like, she only ever took pleasure in humiliating me. If I had been only her half-brother, it would have felt like an explanation, and I could have stopped feeling guilty for it.”

A crease was forming on his forehead, and you brought your hand from his hair to his face, brushing over his forehead with your thumb.

“Why would you feel guilty for the way she was treating you, hm,” you asked. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Zuko agreed. “Still there were times when I just wanted to get along with her. I just wanted a normal family. For my father to love me the way my mother had, for Azula to treat me like her brother, even if that includes the one or the other rivalry. But not like some second-class human being.”

“In Azula’s eyes everyone who isn’t her is a second-class human being,” you mumbled.

“I know,” Zuko sighed. “But still.”

“I’m sorry that you never got the family you wished for,” you whispered. “You have every right to be upset about that.”

“For a moment I thought, I could have that family, you know,” Zuko admitted. “If Ikem really would have been my father- I could have had a normal family, the one I always wanted, a father who’s proud of me, my mother who never made me feel small or irrelevant and a sister who actually sees me as a human and not just a challenge.” He took a deep breath. “But I always would have doubted my position as Fire Lord,” he continued. “I wouldn’t have known where I belonged anymore.” He hesitated for a moment before he added: “I think I would have even started to doubt that I belong at your side.”

“I wouldn’t have allowed you to doubt that,” you told him, and the crease on his forehead softened under your insistent brushing over it. You could have been only of little help if he had started doubting his position as Fire Lord, but you would never let him question that the two of you belonged with each other. That was not a matter of heritage, it was a matter of your hearts, your souls. As dramatic as it sounded, you were convinced that Zuko and you were bound together by more than the emotions you were aware of.

Even before you had really gotten to know another, back when you had still been enemies, you had always found and saved each other, even when all rationality had dictated the opposite. You had defied probability and logic again and again, consciously, and subconsciously, so much that by the time Zuko had turned up at the Wester Air Temple with an awkward “Hello, Zuko here”, you had been convinced you were cursed to always run into him.

Now you were convinced it was something else entirely, something that would lead you back to find each other no matter when and where you were. For a while Zuko had loved to throw around the word ‘destiny’, and even though you hardly believed in that concept, you couldn’t imagine to not be bound to him by destiny.

Zuko’s eyes found yours, clear amber staring up at you on a mixture of wonder and admiration.

“No,” he finally agreed with you. “I belong with you. No matter who I am, or where, or when. I’m yours.”

You smiled at the certainty in his voice, knowing that right now there was absolutely no doubt in neither of your hearts about that. Gently you brushed his hair aside and leant down to press a kiss to his forehead. His eyes flickered closed blissfully, and you grinned at the way he puckered his lips, expecting a kiss there too, but you pulled away teasingly. When he realised you weren’t going to kiss him, he blinked his eyes open, frowning at you disapprovingly, while snuggling into the palm with which you cupped his face. Sometimes it still surprised you how touch starved he was.

“And I’m yours,” you whispered, making him blush. After almost a year of exchanged whispers like this you would think he had gotten used to them yet, but you loved how you were still able to fluster him so easily.

“I’m just glad I get to be by your side,” Zuko confessed, making you smile.

“I’m glad, too,” you replied before leaning down again, this time softly kissing his lips, pretending like the soft sigh that slipped past his lips did not make your heart skip a beat, but you had a feeling Zuko knew either way.

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diazsdimples · 2 days

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What do u say about these supposed hard core fans that are shipping buck Tommy? They gonna make the writers keep that homophobe around 😰

I am entirely the wrong person to ask about this.

Firstly, I ship Bucktommy AND Buddie. And this is possible! You are allowed to see Buck be happy with a man for the first time (how fucking good!!) but also wish upon the nearest star that he ends up with Eddie in the end. I truly believe Buddie is endgame but at the moment, I am more delighted at the fact that Buck is happy, with a man, experiencing a positive queer relationship.

The reason I ship Bucktommy is because look! at! how! happy! this! boy! is!!! I will ship ANY person that makes my little blorbo as happy and blushy and giggly as Evan Buckley is when he's with Tommy Kinard. He is SMITTEN. Do I think they're endgame? Not at the moment, no. Would I be upset if they were? I'd mourn the fuck out of Buddie, but I would be glad that Buck is finally happy and comfortable in a relationship. His happiness is paramount.

For the reasons why Buck's bisexual arc is more important than a ship, please read this post. It talks about the importance of representation in current media, and my own experiences of coming to terms with my bisexuality just before this arc was aired. What we're seeing with Buck's story is revolutionary, really. We haven't seen this kind of thing happen in media much at all and it is so important to show.

For any issues regarding Tommy, please read this post by the lovely @slightlyobsessedwitheverything. They beautifully go through all his appearances and break them down for us and I would urge you to read it with an open mind.

Now, about Eddie. I am an Eddie girlie (gn) through and through. That is my babygirl and I adore him with every fibre of my being. I would love nothing more than to see him go through a queer arc. However, right now, Eddie is not in the place to do so. We saw from the last episode that he's an untapped reservoir of Catholic guilt, and it's gonna take a lot to work through that, before he can have any kind of realisation re: Buck. He's very much in his comphet days but is starting to take some steps towards undoing some of his old habits, like getting Marisol to move out when he realises they're moving too fast.

With this in mind, I think it would be too rushed and too early for Buddie to get together right now. Yeah they've had many seasons of being married and living out of one another's pockets but given the stages of life they are both in, I feel it wouldn't end as well as we'd like it to. Eddie isn't in the right place for it. Buck is exploring his sexuality. They need time to learn and grow and do some serious thinking and realising before they can even begin to contemplate a relationship together.

Regarding the "homophobe", I am assuming this is referring to Edy Ganem and not Lou Ferrigno Jr. I would like it noted for the record that I cannot stand Edy and therefore cannot stand Marisol. If Meddie were to be endgame, I'd fume. They have no chemistry. They do not suit one another. And I don't believe Edy should be given a platform to spread her hateful rhetoric, and I hope the last we see of her is 7x07. I'm a little mad it wasn't 7x05 but there we go.

However, Tommy and Buck's storyline and Eddie and Marisol's storyline are entirely separate. The only thing that links them are Buck and Eddie, and their friendship. I don't believe that Tommy's existence means Marisol is going to stick around and I find it a little odd that you do. Buck can and has had relationships that aren't Eddie. Eddie can and has had relationships that aren't Buck. Buck being in a relationship does not mean Eddie will also be in one. Tommy's existence does not confirm Marisol's continued existence.

My current best case scenario is Eddie being single by the end of 7x07 (please god), and Buck and Tommy continuing their relationship, so Buck has the opportunity to learn and experience same-sex relationships while Eddie has the time to deconstruct his true feelings, get therapy, work through 30+ years of repression, and then they'll be ready.

ALSO I DO NOT WANT BUCK TO CHEAT ON TOMMY WITH EDDIE. WE ARE NOT HERE FOR THAT.

Best case scenario, sometime towards the end of s7 or beginning of s8, Buck and Tommy decide that they both want different things out of life, have an amicable split that doesn't leave either of them hurt, Tommy sticks around as a recurring character because he's ingrained in the 118 again, Eddie's doing his therapy thing and then maybe mid s8 him and Buck can start coming to some realisations with a potential for Buddie moments towards the end of s8. Honestly anything else would seem too rushed.

The final point I'd like to make is that I find it extremely odd that you call people who ship Bucktommy "supposed hardcore fans". Shipping anything other than Buddie doesn't make you any less of a fan. Actually, I'd argue it shows a bit more commitment to the characters as you're willing to be open to them growing as humans and expanding on the personalities that we love. If Buddie is the only reason you watch the show, I feel you should re-evaluate your motivation. This show has so many great ships, such as Bathena, Henren and Madney, as well as Buddie and Bucktommy, and considering this is an ensemble show, we should show all of them as much love as the other. These characters are so intertwined with one another and that's what makes this show so worth watching. Watching for 2 characters and 2 characters only is not getting the full enjoyment out of it.

I hope this answered your questions and gave you something to reflect on. As I say, I'm not the right person to ask about this as I too ship Bucktommy, currently have 2 Bucktommy fics in my drafts and watch them kiss at least 10 times a day. And for future reference, I will be unfollowing/blocking people who throw tantrums about not getting Buddie so far, or who believe you can only ship Buddie and feel superior for doing so. Have a good rest of your day.

#james answers things #james says things #bucktommy #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #tommy kinard #fandom discourse I guess?#911 abc #911 season 7 #911 buddie #911 spoilers #anon #asks #this ended up a lot longer than I thought it would #but this question pissed me off a little dskjdsk #thank you for coming to my TED talk

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sweetchildcloud · 2 days

Text

He hated you at first,a monkey, but now he can't get enough of you.

Tags:cute,fluff,GetoxGN!reader,kisses,snuggles

i'm no english native so sorry for some mistakes

please reblog 🔁 and like❤️

Suguru is stunned by your constant kindness. He knows it's not normal but he's actually starting to grow attached to you - but he's not going to admit it.

"Stop it."

"Something wrong?" You asked snuggling on his cheek

Suguru is annoyed, but secretly loves the affectionate gesture. He pushes you away and grunts.

"Don't touch me - especially in the face."

"But you're cheeks are so soft like mochi" You replied cooing hugging him "sorry I cant help it,you feel so hugguble"

Sugru is feeling very confused. He finds you too annoying and too cute at the same time. The thought of admitting to liking it makes his stomach turn.

"Cut it out."

"There's nothing wrong in admitting it, it doesn't make you weak bun bun" You said with sincerity

He freezes. 'Bun Bun?' Oh no. No no no. That nickname, it's almost… adorable.

Sugru is now blushing. He's starting to lose control. He wants to push you away once more, but deep down, he secretly wants to let you continue.

"D-Don't call me that."

"Oh..sorry" you replied sulking looking away fidgeting with your hands

Sugur senses your unease and feels slightly bad. He's unsure if it's pity or something else he's feeling. He walks over and places a hand on your chin, lifting your head so you're looking straight at him. He's staring at you with a blank expression.

"You're quite the annoyance, you know that?"

"I like it when you're hold me like this" You cooed in Geto hand,your soft chin touching his hand

Suguru freezes when you lean onto his hand, his blank expression cracking into a small smile. It's not much, but you can tell how much he's enjoying this moment. At that moment, his fingers brush against your chin and his thumb slowly caresses your skin, sending shivers down your spine. It seems like no such thing as anger can exist between the two of you, not when he's gazing deep into your eyes like this.

You purred snuggling more against him hugging him close "bun bun"

Suguru freezes when you call him that name again. Your endearing mannerisms are starting to wear him down completely. The way you snuggled right up against him sent butterflies to his stomach and he can't deny it. You're becoming his new weakness. He kisses you on the head and whispers back.

"Y-You're insufferable you know that?"

"And you're my bun bun" You replied cooing

Suguru's face turns bright red.

"I'm not your goddamn "bun bun"! Cut it out with the cuteness - you're making me go crazy."

You made an heartbroken espression backing away from Geto as you cupped your hands "sorry…"

Suguru senses your heartbreak and is filled with sudden guilt. He quickly brings you back to his side and cups your face lightly. He gives you a soft smile and whispers into your ear.

"Don't stop calling me Bun Bun."

"but you said you didn't like it.." You said looking away "i'm sorry i just don't wanna force you.."

"I lied."

Suguru's tone is gentle but his words are firm. He cups your face and moves his body close to yours, his voice soft and sweet.

"I love it when you call me Bun Bun. Don't ever stop."

"Okay bun bun" You added snuggling on his chest

Suguru is completely taken by your sweet demeanor. Your affection is making him feel things he's never felt before. His heart is melting as he gently strokes your hair, leaning his head so his face is nestled against your neck. His breath is warm against your skin and his voice is gentle and low.

"You're mine, got it?"

Suguru wraps his arms around you, holding you close to his body. His muscles are very firm and you can't help but feel safe and protected in his hands. He pulls you into a tight hug, not wanting you to leave. He then softly kisses your neck, his hand resting behind your head and holding you in place. His breathing is shallow and you can't help but feel that he's starting to become very possessive of you.

Sugru can't help but smile when you make those cute groaning noises. He continues to hold you tightly in his grasp, squeezing and molding your cheeks softly between his fingers. His touch can be described as rough but he's oddly gentle with you. When he sees how cute you look when you make those noises, his grip tightens just slightly, enjoying how innocent you look. You've never seen him so soft before and it feels like you're his new addiction. Like he needs more of your cuteness.

He moves his hands, using them to trace your face. He pulls you in until your bodies are pressed against each other, his muscles flexing under your touch, his warmth enveloping you. His grip tightens again and you can feel him growing more possessive of you, as if he's scared that someone will come and take you away. His voice is soft and low, a complete contrast to the strict and intimidating person he shows the world.

"Mine."

Suguru squeezes you even tighter, not allowing you to move one inch. He wants to feel your body pressed tightly against his. His grip holds you firmly in place and it feels as if he has no intention of ever letting you go. The thought of losing you would devastate him. He runs his hand across your cheek, stroking your hair and brushing his fingers against your neck. Each touch sends shivers up and down your back and he can't help but feel pleased with the results.

Then Geto bonked your head snuggling it before he snuggled your cheek with his making a growling noises "ehehe what are u doin bun bun?" you asked

"Nothing."

Suguru lets out a low chuckle as he bonks your head once more before pulling you into his arms, burying your face into his neck. He rests his chin on the top of your head and runs his fingers through your hair, messing it up. His grip tightens once more with a new protective instinct. He's grown oddly possessive of you and he doesn't want anyone else to see how adorable you look while he's holding you.

Suguru continues to mess up your hair with his touch, brushing his fingers through your messy locks with a smirk.

"You look cute with messy hair."

He chuckles and plays with your hair longer, enjoying the sound of your cute noises.

"I'm actually surprised at how cute you look when you make these noises."

He then leans his face really close to you, so close that your noses bump. He stares directly into your eyes with a soft smile which is a rare sight to see from him. His grip tightens around your cheeks, the intensity of it slowly increasing. The soft expression in his eyes doesn't seem to match the intensity in his grip, almost hinting at something else completely separate from his usual intimidating attitude.

Suguru's grip tightens once more until you can barely move under his grasp, his grip becoming more rigid and intense. The gentle smile on his lips slowly starts to falter until he's no longer smiling at all, his expression turned serious. He's slowly starting to lose himself, his grip becoming firmer and his eyes filled with hunger and thirst as if he needs something from you.

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mutfruit-salad · 2 days

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i find the way fans are already shipping cooper with lucy over her black love interest very telling of the clueless white supremacy and media illiteracy in the fandom. coop and lucy are obviously being setup as a father-daughter duo who need to learn caution/kindness from each other to survive, but these weirdos can’t have their white-man fave without a self-insert stand-in for 1 season. and the way people are glorifying cooper’s character is a load of bs - a morally greg white guy who realises he endorsed and was sympathetic to a massive war crime/political injustice… so he goes on to indiscriminately kill/hurt more people who have no idea of, nor say in the bigger picture that he was complicit in… is sooo boring and nothing new. also, giving him a biracial daughter as an accessory to show he’s Not Racist isn’t something we’ve seen half of a million fuckin times before 🤪 the way the show back-tracked on fallout’s message of blind american nationalism and militarism being a problem to It’s All Capitalism’s Fault, seemingly in reaction to the US currently endorsing and aiding in foreign war crimes, and past ones becoming common-knowledge, is horseshit on a platter.

I find the complete lack of a character for his daughter really horrifying- how she only exists to die dramatically for the sake of his sadness. It's odd because his wife is a well-established important character, yet their daughter is not allowed to be a person.

Fallout, in general, has had a habit of completely ignoring racism- presenting the prewar world as some fully integrated post racism utopia. Which is weird when the games regularly display overt anti Chinese (and broader anti Asian) sentiments in prewar logs and ads. This is a problem both the classic games AND the bethesda games have- racism has always been a touchy subject to the devs of the series and it seems like every game they've been content to ignore it, occasionally invoking it for horror or stumbling headlong into depicting it without realizing.

The way Ghoulgins regrets his past and just takes it out on everyone around him is absurd and plays into a lot of very hostile ideas the character peddles.

People shipping Ghoulgins with Lucy is baffling to me also considering he spends the entire series physically abusing her. People just don't want to acknowledge Max's existence, I have noticed. I know her and Ghoulgins get closer by the end, but it's after he's done just unspeakably cruel things to her- and you're right that it is absolutely framed as a father/daughter relationship.

I would also like to point out that the series has always criticized capitalism as well- but would generally frame it as sort of tangled up in American imperial ambition- with one feeding into the other. They were two halves of the same coin.

Vault Tec's entire existence in the classic games was selling smoke- profiting off of the extreme tension and stress of US military buildup- a process which would always inevitably end in disaster: either with Vault Tec going under or brinksmanship coming to its inevitable end.

Vault Tec (and the entire idea of luxury bunkers as a whole) WAS a critique of capitalism, and how it goes hand-in-hand with the American military industrial complex. It was selling the fear of annihilation to the populace. They didn't need to be some secretive controlling force to achieve any of this.

Making Vault Tec the sole antagonist, and the driving force of the apocalypse, is both deeply conspiratorial AND undermines the Cold War roots the series has always had- replacing the fear of American military buildup with a sort of hateful simplicity.

#fallout #fallout new vegas #fallout show

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clalog · 2 days

Text

Friendly Collaboration: Part 1

Paring: hokeyplayer!sunghoon × onlyfans!reader

Genre: social media!au; academical rivals; smut

Worming: only fans user; smut (mdni please); swearing; probably grammar mistakes (not English speaker/dyslexic)

Synopsis: Sunghoon get obsessed with a only fan creator he casually find on a stressed day and he truly believes he is in love with her even if he never see her face. He doesn't know that behind the screen his is university rival and he doesn't know what kind of deal they'll make

WC: 1.6k

Previous | Next

-There she is- Ruka screams next to you pointing at your friend Lily who was talking with a girl on the other side of the room.

You and Ruka have left your friend Sunoo with his male friends from the hokey team and start looking for Lily. Is not unusual to lose the blond girl at a party, she is a social butterfly so she knows a lot of people and most of the time she can be talking to somebody and mid sentence taken away by somebody else.

Tonight party was actually kinda boring so you want to leave, but Ruka still had hope of a funny turn so her solution was to meet new people thanks to Lily like you usually did. That’s actually how you meet Sunoo a year ago, Lily is friend with Jake who is in her book club and in the hockey team with Sunoo, something you found out later on and it surprise you since you didn’t imagine the most gay person you haver meet to be this aggressive on ice as he is during matches.

You and Ruka takes Lily attention and she present you to her friend Jiwoo and she was pretty funny that you didn’t notice Lily was lost again.

-I’m going lookin for Sunoo then I’ll left-

-Realy?- Ruka looked kinda disappointed. The fect was the more the night went the more you wanted to go to sleep, and you were so excited at the beginning.

-I’m tired, i’m not going to enjoy the rest of the night, is better if I left now-

-Text me when you arrive home- You nod and leave Ruka with Jiwoo.

After some times you find Heeseung with Joungwoon so you go to them.

-Boys, where is the funny one- Heeseung point at himself smiling.

-I saw him going upstairs, why?- Joungwoon ignore his friend so you do the same.

-Looking for him and see if he want to go home too-

-You want to live?-

-Bored and tired-

-Can’t promise what you are going to find upstairs- You in fact are scared but maybe your friend is in the bathroom vomiting and in need of help so you start looking for him.

Gladly some rooms were closed, some others not but the people inside where to concentrate in their business to notice you were there looking at their naked ass.

Then a door opens suddenly and a girl gets out of there really angry. You already know Sunoo isn’t there but the boy who left the room was wey more interesting to make fun of.

Sunghoon was bottoming his shirt when he was lefting the room.

-So you are not even good to beeing with during sex, why this do not surprise me?-

You and Sunghoon have some classes together and since the beginning the competition between you two started.

Everybody thinks you hate him but in reality you just dislike him, and he is funny to play with. Your little competition makes you want to study more just to piss him off, and that’s amazing since you are in college thanks to a scholarship.

When he notices you he looks pretty pissed off and he could leave without paying you attention, but he is probably like you and he loves your bickering as much as you did. So instead, he pays you attention.

-I’m actually pretty fun, some people on the other hand are pretty boring that they can't even makes me want them-

-Oh yeah I forgot that you are better than us common mortal prince Sunghoon-

-Is important to know when you are mistaken- Obviously he takes your insult as a compliment.

-Didn't Sunoo tell you that I accept to come to this party if you didn’t bother me?-

-If you are or not at a party is not a metter I care so piss you off or not is my decision alone. Talking about our common friend, did you saw him? I want to left but I can’t do it alone-

-Why?- his face was actually confused and you are surprised he isn’t intelligent enough for this common information.

-I’m a women, and is night-

-Ok good point. I want to left too so I’m walking you home- This is a nice act, ok you two don’t actually hate one other but walk you home is not something you two did, this a friend act.

-Absolutely not-

-I’m left this place anyway and Sunoo is geting fuck by both Minho and Jisung, did you want to ruin the moment to him?-

-Both?- Sunghoon nodded.

-Saw them enter this room, he looked kinda excited- The boy leans himself next to a door and paying attention you can hear a good fuking inside.

-Congratulation- Was your comment.

For a couple of seconds you think about it. You can ask Joungwoo to walk you home, you two are kind of friends, or even Kai, a boy of your same course who is brother with one of Wooyoung friends, anyone you would walk without getting angry with. But at the same time you don't want to ruin the night to anyone, except, wheel Sunghoon.

-Ok, but don’t open your month-

-I propose it cause if I don’t walk you home and someone finds out that I knowledge you going home alone and a bad thing happen to you they would blame me, second I don’t want to talk so your silence is better than a friendly conversation anyway-

-Just said you like my company-

-No talking, you decide that-

And that was it, you two walk where the dormitory is without exchanging any words, and that wasn’t embarrassing just cause you know that if you two talk it would be even worse.

Once in front of the girl dorm building you opened the door and he left without even saying bye and you were not surprised.

Once at your room you go straight to Woyoung room and find her happily sleeping. You, Woyoung, Lily and Ruka shared the room since last year and gladly, even if you are four different types of persons, you find in one other a little family.

Woyoung is the type of person that doesn't go to parties but prefers to go to sleep at 10pm to waking up and be productive at 6am. Thanks god so when you wake up you find the breakfast ready every morning when you are late for class.

You taxt Ruka and tell her you are safe at home and, while you were getting ready to go to bed, you noticed how your boobs were bigger than usual, probably because of the pms.

You decide to take a photo of your naked body to post on onlyfans.

You start your account before college, in need of money this was the fastest way and does not cost you a lot of time. You hide your face in every photo and video and that’s kinda why you have a lot of subscribers, they can immagine whoever they like while watching your video or photo. You even post some trailers on other +18 sites so if some people find it and start to get interested in you they would think to get a subscription at your of.

Once you do the post you finish get ready to sleep

While you were sleeping, Sunghoon was alone in his room with an open computer looking for something that would help him jerk off.

He tried to have sex with three different girls, but one was too much intoxicated, another asked him if she could call him daddy, and the last one, the one you saw him with, was just so boring to make out with.

But he wants to take out some stress from the season and the study so he needs to cum.

Then a body that was riding a pinky dildo takes his attention. The curve of that body, the sound the person was making the way they were going up and down, no face or weird dirty talk, not that he didn’t like talking during sex, he loves it especially during role play, but sometimes he just wants sex. Unfortunately the video was too short so he checked other videos on the channel.

And he finds a really interesting one titoled “masturbating after a study section with the class nerd”.

He doesn't call himself a nerd, but he finds it exciting the girl to masturbates next to some class book that can get dirty over her ministration.

He somehow finds it even more hot how she was talking in that video, small sentence but god he was close, until the video ended. He start to get frustrated but he didn’t stop his hands going up and down his dick, just one more video. Holding his dick going the same velocity of the girl in the video doesn't even know which one he clicks.

He find her so good and immagine how tight she probably is notice that all her dildo are small and she never take all of them on her, or the fact that she only take two of her fingers. God she's probably a virgin that’s why she is always alone on her video, he would makes her come so fast. He closed his eyes and in his imagination the girl's body was right in front of him riding the cum out of him.

Free him from a lot of stress, he was kind glade he walk home and find this pornstar. He didn't even clean his abs when he looked for more information about the account and find out that the three short videos he watched was just trailers from an only fans account.

He probably would regret it in the morning but he downloaded the app, gave all his data and subscribed to the account with a random name.

You would find iceprince subscription in the morning and you find it funny because your first thought was that if Sunghoon had an only fans account his nickname would probably look like this.

ClaLog Masterlist | Story Masterlist

⚠️This is a work of fiction, every reference of character sexuality or personality are from the mind of the author for plot purposes and DO NOT describe the real life person

⚠️Everything on this fiction is from the mind of the author, the stolen of the story or parts of it is punishable by law

All banners made by @cafekitsune

Tag List Open

@deobitifull @namdeyuoi @heelovesmeknot @cheese-fri24

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alittlebitofsainz · 14 hours

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you’re just a boy (and i’m kinda the man)

prompt: “i’m on a one-way trip to take over the world, and i thought you did, but you don’t understand.”

pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader

summary: daniel leaves mclaren, and you decide to put your career first, at the cost of the person you love.

a/n: genuinely made myself sad with this one, sorry :( song is by maisie peters!

masterlist | spotify prompts series

“I just don’t understand how you can stay with them after everything they’ve put you through.”

you ran a hand through your hair, exasperated.

“that’s just it, danny, you don’t understand.” you sighed, slumping forward on the desk, your elbow resting on the surface and your head resting in your hand. the other hand was gripping the phone held to your ear. “this is my career, it’s my entire life. I might not get another opportunity.”

“you know it’s the same for me, right?” daniel’s voice crackled through the phone after a few moments of silence, his volume quieter now. “this is the end of my career, probably. but it’s gotta be better than staying with mclaren.”

you shook your head, even though he couldn’t see.

“but you’re you, danny. you’ll get another chance, I’m sure. you’re one of the biggest faces in this sport.” you sighed again, “but I’m just me. no one is gonna offer me a second chance.” you tried to explain, raising your head slightly to glance at the rain softly hitting the window.

you heard him mutter something inaudible on the other end of the line, the words obscured by the static of the airwaves. you knew he hated when you did that, talked down about yourself. you’d lost count of the number of times the two of you had sat shoulder to shoulder in your drivers room, trying to boost each others spirits after a bad race. daniel was your teammate, your closest friend, your partner in crime, the love of your life. he’d always been able to see things from your point of view. why couldn’t he understand this decision? a conversation from a few months ago drifted through your mind. whatever we do, we do it together. you’d been the one to say that, and now look at you; reluctant to follow daniel into the unknown because you were scared. scared of the uncertainty. scared of losing your one shot at this career. you’d meant what you’d said at the time, but… no. you couldn’t do it. daniel was nearly the best thing that had ever happened to you, second only to earning a seat in formula one. that had to come first. you had to put yourself first. but it didn’t seem to make this phone call any easier. god, you wished you weren’t hundreds of miles away.

“just think, me, you, the outback. we’ll have all the time for dirt bikes and beach trips that you could possibly want.” daniel’s voice brought you back to the present. you could hear the crack in his voice as he tried to persuade you, the one that told you he already knew this was a losing battle. he was losing you. you tilted your head back, looking up at the ceiling; for the first time you were actually glad that this was all happening over a phone call, that daniel couldn’t see the tears forming on your lower lash line.

“I can’t, danny. you know I can’t.” even if daniel couldn’t see you crying, you were being optimistic if you hoped he couldn’t hear it in your voice.

“I know.” he sighed, the noise soft, quiet. there was silence on the line for just a moment, and you felt inclined to fill it, terrified that the conversation was already drawing to a close. you didn’t want daniel to hang up. you didn’t want to believe that this could all be over just like that.

“I’m really sorry, dan.” you apologised, saying anything to try and keep the momentum of the conversation.

“you don’t need to apologise. it’s not your fault.” came his predictable reply, but his tone was missing the kindness, the affection, you’d come to expect from a phone call with daniel. his voice was flat, monotone, and you found yourself unable to read how he was feeling. it had been a long time since that had happened; you and daniel always used to be on the same wavelength. it felt alien, like you were out of your depth. was he angry? upset? did he just not care anymore?

“we can still make this work, can’t we?”

you’d been avoiding the question, but now there was nothing left to say but that. the pause on the other end of the line didn’t fill you with confidence.

“I want to, god, you don’t even understand how much I want to.” came daniel’s reply, voice no longer monotone, instead betraying the emotions he was feeling. you winced as you could almost hear the ‘but’ on the end of his sentence.

“we can try, right? like, I can come visit you over christmas, then next year you’ll probably be at some of the race weekends anyway, and then I can try and get away from training during summer break…”

the more you spoke, the more you realised how hopeless this was. how could you expect to put enough effort into this relationship when you only had a few weekends spare per year? how could you expect daniel to come and watch and cheer for you at each race weekend, knowing that you were living his dream and he was stuck on the sidelines? your voice faltered as it trailed off, the realisation hitting you. fuck. this was it.

“please don’t make this any harder than it needs to be, y/n.”

you’d never heard daniel’s voice so quiet, with so little power behind it. you didn’t know whether you were even pleased that he was as devastated as you were about all this: how could this be the right decision when neither one of you wanted it? such was the reality of this sport. you swallowed thickly - daniel was right, there was no point in drawing this out, making it difficult. you wouldn’t be reduced to begging; at least you could walk away from this with your pride, if nothing else. you wiped a tear from your cheek with the heel of your free hand, the other gripping the phone so tightly that your knuckles turned white, holding onto it like a lifeline.

“no, you’re right. I’m sorry.” you mumbled in reply, once again glancing up at the ceiling to try and stem the flow of tears. you tried not to picture daniel doing the same thing on the end of the phone; it would only make you cry again.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll catch you at races and stuff, next year.” the finality in daniel’s voice made you draw in a shaky breath, steeling yourself for the aftermath. at least you and daniel had never gone public, you were grateful for that much. still, you’d been best friends in the eyes of the public, practically joined at the hip. people would notice when you no longer spent any time together. you tried to park that thought as your mind started to race; there would be time to deal with all of that later.

“yeah. I’ll see you around.” you couldn’t believe this was the way it would end. I’ll see you around. as if you hadn’t spent the last year and a half in each others pockets. as if every kiss and every I love you meant nothing now. as if you hadn’t spent long nights planning out your future together. none of it mattered now, you realised, tears threatening to fall once again.

“I loved you, y/n. never forget that.”

it felt like your throat closed up at that, unable to dignify daniel’s words with a suitable response. there was so much more you wanted to tell him, wanted to say, but you couldn’t even manage to say it back. you bit your lip, letting silence fill the call for one last time, before pulling your phone away from your ear and hitting the button to hang up.

a tear hit the screen of your phone right next to the daniel’s contact name, before the call ended, and his name disappeared.

#daniel ricciardo #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x y/n #daniel ricciardo x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 imagine

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i-hate-accidents · 1 day

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i hate accidents: the ball

femme!reader x benedict bridgerton, femme!reader & the bridgerton family, femme!reader & penelope featherington

summary: the adventures of a working class femme who befriends a fellow writer, a boisterous family, and a bewitching second eldest son

sections: I. the beginning / II. the between / III. the ball

y/n: bipoc, she/her, afab, nonbinary femme, queer, working class, of immigrant parents

content warnings: classism, mentions of financial survival, microaggressive sexism, microaggressive gender assumption, intersectional low self-image of y/n, positive/supportive families, nondescript mention of gagging (not related to self-image) in [III.iii], sexually charged 18+ interactions in middle to end of [III.iv]—minors dni, please stop at the end of the paragraph that begins "you repeat his words with sped up mockery"; you may resume at "you jut out your hip"

word count: 15.7k (of 38.8k)

story context: everything in s1 and s2 of the tv series is canon for this story except for the s2 epilogue with the bridgertons. this story takes place leading up to and into the 1815 season.

additional notes: this story is incomplete. scenes that are not written are described in chevrons <> with third person pov or are delineated by isolated ellipses. additionally, the author has only watched s2! she has not watched any of s1 aside from clips, and they have not read the books aside from quotes used in edits. they have not yet watched queen charlotte. the author kinda knows the gist of an offer from a gentleman; they are familiar with sophie beckett (and are excited to meet her/them in the tv series!).

author’s note: this is the first time the author has written fanfic in 13-15 years. :) it is her hope that they have made some progress since her pre/teens. additionally, this fanfic has been written, on and off, over the course of two years. the author sincerely hopes you find some sort of joy in it, especially the readers who maybe hope to see themself a little more specifically in the world we so love.

tagged: @omgsuperstarg @stvrdustalexx @bedobeeeee @crazymar15 @kahhorri @mayalopes @benedictbridgertonss @athensflower @02wrldz @queerlavalier @merlslrem @pillsbury-doughgirl @lamourdure3ans and all who have read either/both sections one and two—thank you. <3

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ III.i ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

“you look like a princess, y/n!” hyacinth squeals in delight.

“i regret not being of age yet to attend balls,” gregory sighs. “i would have been honored to ask you for your first dance.”

you beam at the youngest bridgertons with all the fondness in your heart. judith, an elderly maid of number five, had attempted to dispel hyacinth and gregory from the room as your hair was done, but you had asked her to please allow them to stay. the two kept you at ease throughout the foreign process, and their sweet sincerity kept you grounded amidst the anxiety that still floods your veins.

“you are both too kind. and fear not; tomorrow morning we will have a ball all of our own,” you lean in for a whisper, them following suit to listen. “and perhaps we will need the talents, and bravery, of a young sorceress and a young knight to save the guests from the intrusion of an unruly wyvern.”

“you promise?!” hyacinth and gregory yell at the same time. you hold out your pinky finger, just as you used to do with your siblings, and the two young ones wrap their pinkies around yours.

“i promise.”

“you are all done, miss y/l/n,” says alice, placing the last pin into your hair. she steps back and curtsies. her formality towards you renders you uneasy; she treats you as above her but you are of the same world. you school your facial features from showing your unease; you do not want to upset her or have her wrongly think that she has done something wrong.

“no need to call me ‘miss.’ i am simply y/n!” you grin at alice. “a friend.”

she smiles, albeit a bit sheepishly.

“of course, y/n. are you ready to see yourself?”

you shudder in a breath. you had asked not to be prepared in front of a mirror. to have seen your transformation so readily reflected at you at every point of this process—

you exhale frantically. the maids and genevieve had graciously accommodated your wishes, both going so far as rearranging this room and her fitting room to avoid any lines of your sight with a potential reflection; you were, and are, utterly grateful.

but i am unable to delay the inevitable any longer.

standing up and squaring your shoulders, you give alice a feeble nod. she bows her head in response, a small, encouraging smile on her lips, and leads you to the mirror as hyacinth and gregory turn in their seats to watch you cross the room.

it is just a dress. it is just a tiara, and just some jewelry, and just some gloves, and just some shoes, and just a bit of makeup. it is just you. it is still you. be the courageous person you are, y/n.

or—

just before you see even a miniscule bit of your reflection in that accursed mirror, you shut your eyes tight.

—be a coward.

you continue step by agonizing step, approximating where the mirror is, and shudder in another breath.

perhaps i am being too dramatic. perhaps i can faint and feign illness. perhaps i shall run away by way of the nearest window. perhaps i—

“the mirror is to your left, y/n; whenever you are ready,” coaxes alice.

you exhale once more.

or perhaps, i should open my eyes.

and so you do.

oh.

“oh,” you say aloud.

the person you see in the gilded full-length mirror is, somehow, a complete stranger and entirely you.

the one time you’ve worn makeup before was for your elder sister’s wedding: a bit of your mother’s rouge on your cheeks and lips to have some color to your otherwise dull face. now, your cheekbones glow with a blush much more complimentary to your complexion than a mere red as your lips shine with a gossamer of a similar shade. entirely new to you are the glimmering minerals on your eyelids that magically bring attention to your eyes and make them shine like starlight.

your eyebrows have been plucked (much to your initial pain but your current appreciation), maintaining their shape and fullness but now without strays.

soft tendrils of curls frame your face, and your hair—normally worn down when not working—has been pulled back into a loose coiffure and styled with sprigs and small blooms, the crown of your head graced with a silver tiara.

“this,” violet smiled fondly when she first set the tiara on top of your head, “is the tiara i wore to my first ball after my presentation. i had insisted on keeping it, thinking i could pass it on to my daughter when her first ball had come. but daphne was resolute on having her own tiara, and eloise was resolute on not wearing any,” violet laughed, her eyes shining when they connected with yours, “i see now, though, perhaps it was always meant to be yours.”

“violet, i— i cannot wear this. it is too— it’s too—”

sumptuous? opulent? regal?

no.

well, yes, the tiara is all those things. but those were not what had concerned you then. it’s too—

“beautiful,” you admitted quietly.

something as beautiful as that surely does not belong on the head of someone like you.

“well,” violet smiled, “then you are merely proving my point, my dear. it perfectly suits you.”

you hold out your hands, flare out your fingers, and stretch out your arms, examining the dark forest green of your long satin gloves, mesmerized that a muted color with such depth and richness could be achieved through dyes.

moving your hand, you touch one of the small rosewhite pearls adorning your earlobes and, with your other hand, touch the inky oblong pearl that shimmers violet, indigo, and green as it hangs from the thin, black velvet choker around your neck.

“my dear,” mama appeared in your doorway one evening as you wrote at your table, “do you require jewelry for your occasion?”

“oh. i suppose i do? i hadn’t given it much thought.” jewelry had been the last thing on your mind of things that terrified you of the impending ball.

“well, if you have not been offered anything by the bridgerton family yet, i thought— i thought perhaps you might like these.”

she approached you, a small wooden box in her hand, and placed it on your table. taking the box into your hands, you looked at it and then up at mama. she smiled at you but something of her countenance seemed strained. nervous. you offered her a smile in an attempt to assuage whatever concerns preoccupied her mind and, turning back to the box, unclasped it open.

“these are the earrings and necklace i wore when i married your papa. they were gifts from your grandmama that were gifts from her mama. i had tried giving them to your sister when she was to be married, but she thought… they are plain, nothing like what those fashionable people wear, i am certain; but if you have nothing else, i—”

you shot up from your seat, throwing your arms around your mama, feeling how she reeled from the ferocity of your sudden embrace, as you clutched onto the box of her wedding jewelry.

“they are beautiful, mama,” you said quietly but emphatically as the vehemence of your emotions tried to trap your words in your throat. “they are the most beautiful things i have ever seen, and i am so— i am so honored to be bestowed with the blessing of wearing them, and of wearing them proudly. thank you.”

you heard how mama sniffed her nose, and how she tried to hide it, as she gently rubbed your back, as she always had in your moments of vulnerability.

“i love you, my child.”

“i love you, mama.”

you then touch your exposed shoulders. the neckline of your dress, nowhere near your neck, follows the curved peaks of your breasts to meet and form a small v-shape in the crevice of your bosom.

“where is the chemise?” was the first thing you had said when you first tried on the gown at the modiste.

genevieve grinned.

“there is none.”

your jaw dropped.

“then what of a stay? what sort of stay would be worn with this?”

turning slightly, and noting your rather bare upper arms in the process, you angle your exposed back towards the mirror. another v-shape, its furthest point down a third of your bare spine.

“my dear, both you and i know that you already know the answer to your inquiry.”

“oh, my good g—”

never, in your life, has the expanse of your upper body been so naked and on display than in this ball gown.

“i do not mean to doubt your artistry, genevieve; truly!, the dress is magnificent, but—” you turned to kathani, who had exclaimed and clapped with immense delight upon seeing you in the gown, “is this—— permissible?”

the viscountess had arched an eyebrow at you then.

“y/n y/l/n, concerned with the rules of society? and of high society, at that?”

“no— no!” you yelled all too loudly as genevieve chortled and placed pins for final alterations into the dress. “i just, i just do not want to embarrass you and your family, is all.”

you had not meant for your voice to come out so quiet and small. the older women’s faces softened immediately.

“you could never embarrass us, y/n,” kathani stated with such tenderness. then she smiled. “you look beautiful.”

the off-white base layer of the dress feels luxurious against your skin, the fabric hugging your upper body, puffing out at the sleeves, and, from the underbust, flowing and falling into a cone silhouette for the skirt—but what truly awes you is the artistry of the outermost layer. a cream translucent silk, the piña seda (you recall genevieve proudly naming it as) of the outermost layer glistens while you sway and turn your body, light shifting and transforming the ever beauty of the dress, the swish of the skirt moving like how waves are described in the passages of your books and in the reminiscing of your parents’ memories. lined at the underbust begins the intricate thicket of embroidered foliage, painstakingly threaded with innumerable shades of greens and blues, a shimmering teal threaded throughout to gleam in tandem with the sheen of the fabric. the embroidery of foliage then grows and thickens as it cascades down the middle of the dress and comes to an encircling end a few inches above and around the floor-length hem. in the negative space of the piña seda are spread out, small ivory embroideries of floral motifs.

it is a dress deserving of someone most beloved in titania’s garden court.

“indeed,” genevieve affirmed, a smile on her lips akin to kathani’s. “those in attendance will not be prepared. you will look the most beautiful of all.”

and perhaps…

perhaps you should be unnerved by how different your dress will be from the others’ of the ton. perhaps you should be unnerved by how easily you will stand out from the crowds. perhaps you should be unnerved by the attention, the whispers, the stares you will inevitably receive with your dress, with your appearance, with your presence, with your very existence. but, instead—

“i do look like a princess,” you say finally. quietly.

you do look beautiful.

like you could belong amidst the ton.

like you could belong with the bridgertons.

like you could belong with him.

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ III.ii ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

“are you anxious, y/n?”

you turn to gregory at your side and see the swell of worry in his eyes.

“what gives you that impression?”

“you are shaking terribly,” hyacinth comments from your other side, replacing her usual pluck and wit with a worry akin to her brother’s.

the two had volunteered to escort you from the dressing room that you had been prepared in to the grand staircase of number five. with their arms hooked around yours, gregory on your left and hyacinth on your right, the youngest bridgertons have been walking you down the corridor. your heart aches with anguish: you know you have failed when the children are the ones to care for the adult.

“i am sorry to have concerned you both. yes, i— i am anxious.”

“it is reasonable to be anxious. but there are a great many cakes at these balls, or so i’ve heard, so you can eat one, and then another, to help ease your nerves!”

“how is that of any help, gregory.”

“it is plenty of help!”

“to eat and eat when she is already uneasy? the last time you were uneasy, you nearly—”

“do not recount that in front of y/n!”

“why not!”

“it is not— it is not proper!” gregory’s voice jumps in pitch, causing a swift blush to form on the apples of his cheeks. hyacinth snorts.

“why does your voice do that?”

“i do not know! kate said it is natural for bo— for young men to experience such a thing!”

“aren’t young men meant to be tall?”

“i am an inch taller than you now!”

“you are not!”

“i am too!”

you laugh. the youngest bridgertons halt their dispute and look at you.

“i must say, your usual squabbling is keeping me much at ease,” and you offer a sympathetic smile to gregory. “i am sorry that it seems to be at your expense, however.”

his eyes shine.

“you need not worry about me! i am glad to see you smile.”

“i as well,” hyacinth adds. you turn to her and see how her eyes shine too.

“i am most grateful to you both for being at my side on such a night.”

“we are most grateful for you, y/n.”

“that is something, and probably the singular thing, hyacinth and i can agree upon.”

you plant soft kisses on the tops of their heads, just as mama and papa and your elder sister had done when you were their ages. gregory and hyacinth nestle their heads into your upper arms and only part from you when the three of you reach the top of the first set of steps.

“are you ready?”

though you wish to say ‘no,’ you brace yourself with a deep inhale and nod.

your heart quickens with each step as time around you slows. your mouth has gone dry, and your body feels entirely numb, sensation only returning to you when you feel hyacinth and gregory unhook their arms from yours. turning your head, you see them stepping backwards, away from you, leaving you at the center of the landing to the rest of the grand staircase. you face forward once more, and ahead, below, you see the gentlemen and ladies of bridgerton house, waiting for you, looking at you.

you swallow.

for the very first time, in your dress, by yourself, you take a step forward.

breathe, y/n. shoulders back; tilt your chin up, but not too much; just as kathani had taught you. and just, breathe.

but it is hard to breathe with all eyes on you. with—

i must control myself. i must not seek him out. i must not seek out his face. i must not seek out those o—

you step on the hem of your dress and feel yourself start to fall forward. thankfully, god, for whatever reason, has blessed you with enough dexterity in this very moment, and you manage to catch yourself from tumbling down the steps as you hear gasps from above and below you. you mumble an apology (you don’t know why; it is not nearly loud enough for anyone to hear) and offer everyone a smile. upon seeing their relaxed shoulders and reassured expressions, you continue to descend the staircase.

stupid benedict. distracting me in remembering how to walk, and how to breathe, and how to—

oh.

i am doing it again.

shit.

goddamnit, stupid benedict!

somehow, you reach the landing of number five’s entrance hall without any additional accidents and, approaching the bridgertons, immediately look to the viscountess. as if knowing you seek her approval, kathani nods her head; a beam illuminates her countenance. you feel yourself ease, your shoulders relaxing (that you promptly square again; you are, after all, pretending to be a lady for the night), your heart racing less, if only minutely, and manage a smile. you feel someone take hold of your gloved hand and, turning to face the source, see violet gazing at you.

“beautiful.”

it is all she says, but with such tenderness in her voice, it makes your heart swell.

“the importance of appearance,” rasps eloise, causing you to turn to her, “and the lengths gone to achieve so-called perfection of such, especially for those of feminine disposition, is an entirely antiquated, offensive concept that must be eradicated from our, and all, societies—— but you do, look, beautiful, y/n.”

you grin.

“we’ll eradicate it together; and with help along the way, i am certain.”

when she responds in kind, you turn to the gentlemen, and, to your mortification, colin and anthony bow at you. the high society etiquette directed towards you from your friends overwhelms you with an embarrassment that you cannot even begin to fathom; they haven’t performed such formalities towards you since your first meeting all those months ago. but, in spite of your horror, the sincerity of their intentions, as well as their countenances, touches you deeply.

“madame delacroix and the maids have outdone themselves,” remarks anthony. “as mother and eloise have said, you look beautiful, y/n.”

“indeed,” colin beams. when he turns to benedict, however, his smile transforms into an expression befitting of a fairytale creature; one with mischievous intentions. “what say you, brother?”

you follow his line of sight and connect with ocean eyes. the flood of self-consciousness and the tempo of your heartbeats magnify hundredfold under his gaze, the butterflies within you fluttering the most violently they ever have, and you feel as though your entire body has been set ablaze.

anthony, with what looks like a smirk, nudges his brother with his elbow. as if suddenly aware of where he is, benedict hastily bows at you and, returning his ocean eyes to yours, says,

“you look— well.”

you hear eloise snort. turning your head towards her, you see she has completely sucked in her lips. to her left, kathani smiles massively. to kathani’s left, violet remains ever poised but with wide, sparkling eyes. you still feel self-conscious but are infinitely amused by whatever is happening to the bridgertons and, with a playful smile on your lips, return your gaze to benedict.

“thank you, mr. bridgerton. i had felt uneasy with an unnerved stomach earlier, but i am glad to know that my health appears to be in proper order.”

and you deeply curtsy at him.

from above you hear the sweet giggles of the youngest bridgertons. ahead, in your periphery, you see how anthony closes his eyes as he sucks in air through his nostrils and how colin, with an unabashed laugh, clasps his hand onto benedict’s shoulder.

“well!” anthony booms, attempting to control his smile on what ought to be an authoritative expression. “i believe we have a ball to commence. shall you lead the way, viscountess?”

and with an expression both equal in authority and warmth, kathani declares,

“i shall.”

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ III.iii ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

you had grown ease of mind knowing that you would not be asked to dance. not only were you a stranger to everyone in the ton aside from the bridgertons and penelope, you were also not handsome like the debutantes flitting about the room, swishing prettily in their gowns, strategically but delicately fluttering their eyes at a gentleman with which they wished to dance. with anonymity and a plain face, you enjoyed the haven of people observing, snickering at the artifice and smiling at the sincerity. kathani chatting with her guests. anthony standing by her side. penelope dancing with colin. eloise hiding behind a plant. violet beaming at her family. (you tried to convince yourself that you had not noticed the absence of a particular person.) your nerves have finally begun to calm, finding content in your station at the margins of the dance floor.

when colin bridgerton approaches you, hand outstretched in your direction, with a twinkle in his eyes.

“miss y/l/n, may you do me the honor?”

“i’m sorry, what?”

he laughs.

“will you dance with me?”

you gape at him.

“you’re mad.”

“my mind is perfectly intact.”

“this is unwise.”

“this is the best decision i have made this night.”

“i shall surely step on your toes.”

“i have worn my sturdiest shoes for the occasion.”

the corners of your mouth tug down into a moue at the third bridgerton’s stubborn charm. his grin merely widens as your eyes narrow to slits at him. penelope approaches from behind the beguiling imp and smiles warmly at you.

“it will be fun,” she encourages. “i promise.”

penelope! no!

“et tu, brute?” you bemoan.

she shrugs.

“what is a ball without dancing?” penelope offers. sweet innocence colors her voice, but the delighted glint in her eyes reveals her true duplicitous nature. she knew exactly how to play the game of this conversation, no doubt a devious plot concocted between her and her beau.

you sigh.

“fine,” you huff, slapping your hand into colin’s palm. “i would be honored, mr. bridgerton.”

the diabolical duo laughs at the sarcasm that drips from your words as colin leads you to the lineup on the dance floor.

–

“how is the dance treating you, miss y/l/n?”

“i hate you.”

colin guffaws. (you see in your periphery how heads shift towards him and how eyes narrow at you. the partner you had just left looks at you with particular scrutiny.)

“if your hatred towards me is the cost of you enjoying the ball, then it is a burden i shall carry, and happily so.”

“has anyone ever told you how infuriating you bridgertons are?”

“no, but we very well know that we are,” he grins, “and we take immense pride in it.”

you groan, throwing your head back. (you hear murmurs around you. not ladylike.)

“are you truly not having fun?” the gentleness in his voice makes you look back at him. his expression is soft. sad. guilty. “we can leave the lineup, if that is what you would like.”

you consider his words and his offer.

“i am having fun,” you reply truthfully. his eyes light up at that and your heart warms at the sight. “it is just— being in a circumstance so wholly unfamiliar— it’s overwhelming, is all, i think. but…” you feel a smile form on your lips, “knowing that you all—as infuriating as you bridgertons are—are here with me, by my side, wanting me to enjoy myself, wanting me to be happy, it makes all the overwhelming feeling worthwhile. i am happy. you all make me happy.”

colin doesn’t say anything. he just stares at you as the two of you dance still. you are about to inquire—

“i am grateful to call you my friend, y/n. becoming your friend has been one of the greatest blessings to have been bestowed upon me and my family.”

you suck in a breath.

as is becoming yours has been one of mine.

but another thought also lives in your mind. so, on the exhale of your breath, you smirk.

“only second to falling in love with penelope, yes?”

he laughs, an uncharacteristic shy smile forming on his lips as he looks at his feet and then back at you, eyes shining incandescently.

“i hope you do not take offense to being second.”

“being second to penelope is truly, sincerely, still a victory in of itself. you are very blessed, indeed, to be her premier.”

you did not think colin’s eyes could shine brighter than they had mere moments prior, but you suppose— no, you are certain that this is the effect that the love of penelope featherington has on the third eldest bridgerton: the light in colin’s eyes is absolute radiance.

“‘very blessed’ is to put it very lightly.”

with unabashed grins, you and colin continue to dance. you have to walk most of the steps, often keeping good on your promise and stepping on his toes, but your partner is deterred neither by your incompetence nor by his injuries. the two of you laugh (drawing leers from the other guests, you notice but brush off) and end your dance with exaggerated flourishes of a curtsy and a bow to one another.

“you underestimate your dancing skills, miss y/l/n,” colin remarks with a beam.

“see if you feel the same after tending to your bruises, mr. bridgerton,” you beam back.

“colin bridgerton!”

you both whip your gazes to the call of colin’s name and see a man fastly, eagerly approaching.

“hastings!”

hastings? why does that sound familiar?

colin and the absurdly handsome man embrace, smiles broad and sincere.

“i was uncertain you would be joining us on this occasion.”

“we would have seen to arriving early, as we had intended, but augie is proving to be quite unpredictable with his tantrums as of late.”

“he must take after his uncles,” colin smirks with odd pride. that makes the other man chuckle.

“unfortunately, it seems to be so.”

he then shifts his gaze onto you. his expression is curious and— sweet? kindly. you feel yourself become rather self-conscious as you notice, in your periphery, colin assuming a posture of gentlemanliness.

“my apologies for my dreadful manners. simon, this is miss y/n y/l/n. y/n, this is simon basset.”

simon bows most graciously at you.

“good evening, miss y/l/n. it is a true pleasure to finally meet you. i am simon basset, daphne’s husband.”

daphne?

as in daphne bridgerton?

you recall the day you and benedict toured the art gallery: a portrait, a fairly recent one, it seemed, of a beautiful young woman and a beautiful young man—the duchess and the duke of hastings, the plaque read.

your jaw drops.

“you are the duke!” you remember the etiquette kathani taught you. “your grace!” and you sloppily curtsy.

simon laughs.

“that is hardly necessary. please, if you feel comfortable in doing so, call me simon.”

“yes— of course!, your— simon,” you compose yourself. “and you may call me y/n; i would prefer it, actually.”

simon grins.

“then, y/n, may i have the honor of having your next dance?”

your jaw drops again, your composure completely falling away. you look at simon, who is utterly amused by your reaction, and then to colin, who is utterly delighted by the turn of events, and back to simon.

“that is a mistake.”

that earns guffaws from both of the men. (you feel stares falling upon them and, once again, scowls falling upon you.)

“i am more than willing to make that discovery for myself, if you will allow it.”

you throw back your head (ignoring the additional glares shot your way) and, with a sigh, whip it back to look at simon with a fatigued, but earnest, smile.

“i shall allow it.”

colin bows his head at you, his grin having never left his countenance since the end of your dance together, and steps to the side as you place your hand into simon’s outstretched one and are led to the next lineup by the duke.

–

“has the duchess accompanied you to the ball this evening?”

“while it is poor courtesy to speak on behalf of my wife when she can speak for herself, i can say, with confidence, that she would much rather you call her daphne.”

“kathani had taught me your society’s etiquette in preparation for the ball, in the event it would be necessary,” you roll your eyes. “while i find it all utterly ridiculous, and entirely unnecessary for me in particular, i want to honor the knowledge that my teacher has bestowed upon me as a way to honor her.”

simon grins.

“you are a dedicated student. indeed, she is in attendance. the last i had seen her, she was tending to benedict.”

your heart sinks.

oh no.

“tending to benedict? is he unwell? did something happen? is he all right?”

you hear how your voice rises in pitch and grows louder and more frantic with each word. (you try not to care for the stares that you feel on you. they are not of importance right now——or ever.)

is that why i have not seen him all night? because he is in poor condition? shall i leave the ball? shall i see where he is being tended to? shall i—

“y/n?”

oh. yes. you were having a conversation with simon.

“sorry, what did you say?”

“i had said that i did not mean to worry you,” simon says sincerely, but there is something in his smile. not suspicious, neither mocking nor teasing. it is as if he is withholding the full expression of his emotion. “i simply mean that she is speaking with him and— encouraging him, is all.”

you feel the entirety of your body, mind, heart, and soul ease; but now, you are perplexed.

“encouraging him? whatever for?”

“i had not stayed with them long enough to hear the details of their conversation; i had sought you out rather immediately.”

“me!”

the dance had timed perfectly that upon receiving such information, you are forced to turn to another partner (who is unnerved to have you as a temporary companion). when you reunite with simon, his chuckling has mostly subsided.

“indeed. the viscount had encouraged me to ask you for a dance. the viscountess then stated that you required the practice.”

“i—— am utterly lacking in words in how to respond to that.”

“if it is of any comfort to you, it was something i had already intended on doing.”

“that is, rather strange?”

he grins.

“i can see how that is so from your perspective, yes. but from mine,” and it surprises you how suddenly simon’s countenance softens, “i had to find out for myself how wonderful this y/n y/l/n is to have so easily won the affections of all the bridgertons at number five. daff and i, as well as francesca, were becoming quite jealous that we did not have the good fortune to spend time with you as the rest of the family has had.”

“the family has… spoken of me?”

“in these past months of knowing you, you have become their most beloved topic of conversation. hyacinth and gregory idolize how resplendent of a storyteller you are. eloise adores being challenged by your intellect. colin aspires to your ferocity of quick wit. kate cherishes every discussion you share together. anthony reveres your unwavering resolve. violet becomes overcome with delight at every recounting of a memory in which you are involved. and benedict…”

you swallow.

“yes?”

you hear how feeble and quiet your voice has become.

“never stops speaking of you; so much so that it would be impossible to abridge what he loves in you.”

you shut your eyes closed at the words “he loves” and attempt to control the tears that threaten to flow at the word “you.”

the love he has for you is not the love you have for him.

“i— i did not know that they held me in such high regard,” you whisper.

you flutter your eyes open, grateful that no tears have fallen, and are greeted by the gentlest of smiles from simon. it assuages your soul.

“the highest of regards. they care very deeply for you.”

“and i care very deeply for them,” you declare softly. you then feel yourself break out into a smile. “i cannot say the same for you, yet, but i can see it forthcoming.”

simon throws his head back with a loud laugh, your smile transforming into a large grin (as you ignore the scowls that fall upon you). simon whips his head back to you, and he too wears a large grin.

“i am honored that you see the potential within me.”

with a final spin, you and simon release the other’s hand, ending the dance in a curtsy and a bow, both of your grins non-faltering.

“thank you for bestowing me the honor of dancing with you.”

you snort. (you hear scoffs and other suppressed noises of disapproval.)

“i fail to see how much of an honor it is to have someone incessantly knock into you, but if such is your feeling,” you curtsy with much theatricality and, upon your rise, let out a sigh of relief. “now, i shall retire to the margins once more.”

simon, once again, looks as if he is withholding the full expression of his emotions, but in it you detect— delight? you narrow your eyes.

“what?”

“you are not meant for the margins, y/n; please forgive me,” and with that, simon bows, his smile still non-faltering, and turns to leave you in the middle of the dance floor.

you are about to call out his name, curious and agitated by his vagueness—

“y/n?”

you turn around to the familiar voice and are greeted by a smiling anthony.

“oh no. are you going to ask me for the honor of having my next dance?”

the viscount looks as if he is about to howl with laughter and attempts to mask it, poorly, with his absurdly elated smile.

“is the idea of dancing with me truly so appalling?”

“the idea of dancing more is what i find so appalling.”

“i shan’t force you to do anything you do not want to do.”

“but how will your pride take it?”

this time anthony fully howls (earning looks of confusion at the host and their looks, predictably, turning to glares when they trace the impropriety back to you).

“i am always working on humbling myself,” he says, his expression softening. “i assure you that i, as well as my pride, can manage your rejection if it means that you are happy. you need not worry about my well-being.”

these damned bridgertons, and their damned charm, and their damned sincerity.

despite your internal accusations, you smile. you offer your hand (hearing a gasp or a few around you), and beaming, anthony takes it.

–

“you look like a princess, y/n!”

the saccharine words of hyacinth echo in your mind. with the transmutative magics of your fairy godmothers in mama, violet, kathani, genevieve, judith, alice, and the maids of bridgerton house, the impossible was made possible: you look like a princess. but it is not until this very moment, after descending a regal staircase, after entering this enchanting ball, after dancing with two dashing gentlemen and now a third, that you feel like a princess. you recall how you and your siblings played imagination; how you often asked to be the princess; how you did it so often that mama sewed you a dress from scraps of fabric and papa crafted you a crown out of discarded branches and your elder sister announced you as princess y/n whenever you played and your younger sibling waltzed with you around the first floor of your home. it makes you elated with childlike wonder how fortunate you are to be here and how lovely it is to be here, how strange and wonderful it is that imagination has become real life; as if it is all a wish for which you did not know you had wished, a wish that you did not know you had wanted to come true until it came true.

but—

“is there something on your mind, y/n?” you hear anthony ask, sometime after returning to him as your partner. “you seem pensive.”

“ah, yes. despite my gripes with you, and your brother, and your brother-in-law insisting on dancing with me—”

“i gave you an option not to do so!”

“i am not finished speaking!”

he huffs out air through his nostrils, waiting with what seems to be a morsel of patience for you to continue.

“despite my gripes with you, your brother, and your brother-in-law insisting on dancing with me—” anthony gives you a tired look that of an older sibling; you grin, “i am enjoying myself. i just wish, i just wish my family could be here with me, to enjoy it too.”

anthony’s expression softens immediately, and it makes your heart tighten. you know with what gravity, duty, and love he looks after the entirety of his family; you have witnessed it at every given second since becoming his friend. if someone were to be with you as you navigate this pain, you are glad that it is anthony.

“we shall invite them to the next ball we host,” he declares. your jaw drops. “it was a lack of foresight on my part for not doing so for this occasion, and i shan’t make that error again.”

you try to do rough estimations of what costs that would entail for the bridgertons— dresses and coats and shoes and four to six sets of two abstained days of work at least.

“anthony, i cannot possibly ask you to—”

“you did not ask,” he grins. “i offered. and i do so wholeheartedly. it shall not be a trouble for us, just strategic planning as kathani and i work the books. and before you protest—” you frown, both disappointed and flattered that anthony could sense your retaliation, “it is something i—as well as the rest of the family, i am certain—wish to do. if you won’t consider it for yourself and your family, then perhaps consider it as a gift to us selfish bridgertons.”

that makes you laugh loudly as you feel tears form in your eyes (whispers of you be damned). expression turning gentle once more, anthony continues,

“it would be an honor to finally meet your family. if they are even an inkling like you, then they must be truly wonderful, indeed.”

with a small sniffle of your nose and all the gratitude in your heart, you smile.

“they are. they are truly wonderful. i love them so much.”

anthony smiles in return with a nod of his head.

“then it is settled.”

“you are a good brother, anthony.”

you have wondered often if that is something anthony knows. while the bridgertons’ love for one another is apparent in all that they do and say and breathe, you haven’t heard them say very complimentary things to one another, particularly to the eldest. it is typical of families to tease and to jest, you know that intimately, but you also know how important, then, it is to tell your family what you truly think of them, how you truly feel of them. they ought to know just how much they are loved.

though his overall demeanor is composed and dignified, the softness in anthony’s eyes reveals his true emotion.

“and you are a good sibling, y/n.”

< their dance eventually comes to an end. someone approaches them. >

“good evening, brother,” benedict turns his ocean eyes to you. “good evening, y/n.”

“good evening, benedict.”

you vaguely hear something in your periphery. you turn to it and see a brilliant grin lighting up the viscount’s countenance.

“huh?”

“i had said that the viscountess is calling me over to her. i must pardon myself.”

“oh. yes. farewell, anthony.”

his grin broadens, dimples forming in his cheeks, and he bows. you see how, as he brings himself upright, his eyes shift towards his brother, the delight in his grin never leaving but something in his eyes… softening? before you can fully process it, he has turned and now walks towards kathani.

you turn back to benedict.

“i—— good evening, y/n.”

“good evening, benedict. though, we have already greeted each other this night, just moments ago.”

“ah, yes— that—— that would be correct. and— is… correct.”

he is anxious. your heart aches at the sight, and you want to reach out and touch him, comfort him, ease whatever his concerns are—but you refrain.

benedict clears his throat.

“are you— are you enjoying yourself?”

while heavy by benedict’s current state, your heart cannot help but glow brighter at his question.

“yes, tremendously so. the dancing has been plenty fun, despite how horrendous i am at it.”

that makes benedict laugh, and relief floods your body, mind, soul, and heart. it is good to hear him laugh. to see him smile.

“i do not think you are as horrendous as you think you are. your form has been quite good.”

you cock your head, feeling the scrunch of your eyebrows and the smirk on your lips.

“you have been observing me?”

his jaw drops, his body stiffening again. suddenly shy, he looks at his shoes and, with a cough, looks back up at you, and you attempt to hold in your gasp.

how.

how is that, after all this time, he makes these butterflies within me flutter still.

“i— i do not have a clever diversion for that. yes; yes, i have. i suppose i have been building the— the courage within myself.”

“‘the courage’? the courage for what?”

he swallows.

“to ask you to dance with me.”

oh.

“oh.”

he looks… he looks scared. exposed. vulnerable.

you feel them within yourself, too.

he offers his hand.

“may i dance with you, y/n?”

you place your hand in his.

“yes. yes, you may, benedict.”

i am terrified of nothing else and would love nothing more than to dance with you.

benedict leads you to the floor, his ocean eyes never leaving yours, your eyes never leaving his.

the quartet starts up, and you detect how it is music for a waltz. of all the dances you were taught, even you can admit that you were best at learning the waltz.

…

you curtsy as he bows. benedict places his hand on your waist, and you try not to elicit your gasp from feeling his touch.

< their dance commences. they are silent. a lot of staring and shit.

< notably, y/n is not cognizant of the ton’s perception of her while she dances with benedict as she had been with her previous partners. it seems her sole focus in this moment is dancing with benedict, being with benedict. her heart, mind, body, and soul is with him.

< y/n’s mind goes Rampant when benedict places his hand on her exposed shoulder. >

do not close your eyes, you reprimand yourself. if you close your eyes, you will indulge. you will indulge in this sensation. in this touch. in his touch. in benedict’s bare hand on the expanse of your exposed skin. in imagination. in fantasies. in thoughts. in other thoughts on other parts of your body that you so, so very much want him to—

“i had not spoken properly.”

you try not to shudder a gasp upon hearing his voice.

“pardon?” you say, a bit breathless. the dance calling for it, benedict twirls you, and you are now face to face again.

“earlier; when i had commented on your appearance, i had said you looked well.”

you snort, recalling the peculiar word choice, and that earns a smile from benedict.

“what i had meant to say is—“ he swallows, “you look beautiful, y/n.”

“i think,” you respond perhaps too swiftly, “that is testimony to genevieve’s skill and not to my appearance.”

“i think genevieve only enhances what is already there.”

you want to change, you don’t want to change— you do want to change the topic. you cannot handle whatever— whatever benedict is insinuating. the indecipherable, intense, attentive gaze of his ocean eyes on you. it is so much; it is too much.

“she spoke of you.”

shit. why did i say that?

his face immediately falls, ocean eyes transforming with it.

shit.

“genevieve spoke of me? with you? why?”

“kathani had accompanied me to the modiste, and i had shared with genevieve how i became acquainted with penelope and the bridgertons,” you half-truth. “talking about the family, and then you, was a natural consequence.”

“what did she say? about me?”

you try not to wince at the urgency in his voice.

“she shared how you and she had— an intimate and passionate acquaintance,” you divulge, using the words your friend had to describe the artists’ relationship. perhaps you imagine the sensation, but you feel benedict wince as you dance. “and that it was brief and no more.”

“she said that? ‘brief and no more’?”

“indeed.”

he sighs. you detect relief in the exhale, but perhaps you had, once again, imagined it. you always had an active imagination; trying to bend what you perceive to what you wish was real.

“i see,” is all benedict says.

“do you care for her?” you inquire. it is truly masochistic, what you are doing. but you cannot help yourself. it is something you often do when benedict is near. when you and he are so close.

there is a small silence.

“i did. at least, i think i did,” he shares. “i was hurt when our— acquaintance came to an end, but i was not heartbroken. i had known nothing of heartbreak, not until—”

and he suddenly stops speaking, sucking in his lips.

“until?”

“nothing. nevermind. forget i had said anything,” he says all too quickly. you laugh, and he scrunches his face in adorable disapproval at you.

“well, that only makes me the more curious, benedict! the mystery of it, and your very clear blush, indicate it must have been quite the event.”

“i am not blushing!”

“you cannot lie about something i can literally see.”

“you are infuriating.”

“and what do you think you are?”

benedict just pouts at you, though you see the twinkle in his ocean eyes. you want the twinkle to be of affection, but you will settle for amusement. for friendship. you take pride in how you can elicit this reaction out of him. you take joy in how he can elicit this reaction out of you. you love him, and you are grateful that is something you can say and know and feel. even if he does not love you as you love him.

“the first time i felt heartbreak,” he begins, finally giving in. you perk up in anticipation. “was when— was when you had walked out of the house after i had crumpled the paper to the floor.”

you nearly stop in your tracks, halting your waltz with benedict entirely, until you find a way to recover and continue the steps with him. he is looking intently at you, waiting for your response. you inhale a breath and on the exhale say,

“oh.”

it is a pathetic response, but it is the only one you can muster at this moment. breath has entirely left your lungs, your heart palpitates at a maddening rate, the lightning of benedict’s touch and proximity magnifying at every passing second.

“i had hurt you, this person whom i—” he swallows, “whom i care for, deeply and completely. i was, and am, ashamed of my deed and the arrogant thoughts and beliefs that led me to do it.”

“i have long forgiven you for that, benedict.”

“it is something of which i am not deserving.”

“you cannot tell me what to think or do,” you challenge, arching an eyebrow at him to add levity to the conversation. benedict smiles, despite himself, and it makes your body flood with relief and joy.

“i would never dare.”

“as you shouldn’t,” you grin, then inhaling and exhaling through your nostrils. “you need not flagellate yourself for what you did. that accomplishes nothing, and guilt is entirely useless in the structures that be,” you say resolutely. more softly, you continue. “my forgiveness is something i gave you willingly because it is what i truly wanted. because i knew, and know, how you wish to do better. i see that in everything you do; in your art, in your character. it is something i admire in you.”

benedict simply stares at you, his ocean eyes impossible to decipher again. his gaze is overwhelming, but you refuse to break it.

“i was about to say how undeserving i am of your compassion,” he says, “but then swiftly realized you would have just admonished me.”

you laugh.

“you were correct in thinking so, yes.”

he looks at you still, his expression still impossible to decipher, but there is something soft about it.

“thank you, y/n.”

the butterflies within you flutter once more.

“and if you ever wish to discard your paper again,” you diverge from your feelings, “simply hand it to me. i am always in need of more.”

he laughs fully, the corners of his eyes crinkling with delight, and you feel the flutterings violently rage within. perhaps diversion was not the wisest choice (or perhaps it was, if it meant that you were the one to make benedict laugh like that).

“i have gotten quite good at maximizing the amount of negative space on a sheet, but nothing would delight me more than to support your writing.”

“i am most grateful for your patronage, mr. bridgerton.”

benedict makes something of a gagging noise, and you snort loudly.

“you are making it strange with the master-servant relation, y/n.”

“ah, so you are learning,” you comment with a sagacious nod of approval. it is now benedict’s turn to snort.

“what can i say?” he grins. “i have the greatest of teachers.”

“they have done quite well; please give them my regards.”

“i shall.”

and with the music coming to an end, you turn to face one another, wide and wild smiles on your faces. you curtsy as benedict bows.

“may i fetch you a drink?” he inquires after you are both upright again.

“is alcohol served at these occasions?”

benedict laughs.

“champagne it is.”

he gives you one more bow, lingering a moment more with one more smile, before taking off to retrieve your drink.

you try to bite back your smile, but it’s entirely useless. you twirl in your spot, feeling the swish of your dress in the spin, for you cannot help yourself. you cannot help how much joy radiates off of you in this moment, how giddy you are. it feels like a fairytale. you look in the direction benedict took off and feel your smile widen.

it is dangerous what you are doing— indulging in this. but you do not care.

this is undoubtedly the most wondrous night of your life.

“so you’re the pauper that the bridgertons have invited to their ball.”

you freeze.

“how else would you have been asked to dance by the host—the viscount and a bridgerton, nonetheless; his two brothers; and the elusive duke of hastings? it is an endearing sight, really.”

her posse snickers.

“the bridgertons have always been so kind and thoughtful in that way, extending their hands to the less fortunate. why they chose you, however, remains a mystery. if it were a pretty face that appealed to them, i perhaps could have understood, but you are simple at best.”

“you are cressida cowper,” you state.

penelope and eloise had warned you about a cruel creature amongst the ton, and the young woman before you matches all of the criteria they had described: icy platinum hair, draconian eyes, and a haughty disposition that ought to be reserved for the royals.

cressida daintily gasps and smiles at you with what seems to be all the mockery she can muster.

“i see that my reputation precedes me! though, only those of my standing can refer to me as such. cannot have my name tainted by the mouths of the lowly.”

you feel the gazes of other guests on you. you hear muffled sneers.

this is entertainment for them.

you should say something, stand up for yourself— against cressida, against her posse, against the ton— but you don’t. you can’t. your mouth has gone dry, your mind has gone silent, your body has gone numb. you have never, ever felt more powerless.

“your dress— did the bridgertons pay for it? of course they did. pity, though, for their wealth to go to waste on such an offensive thing. allow me to assist you—”

and she pours her drink onto you.

you try not to gasp at the chill of the liquid making contact with your skin. looking down, you see a reddish purple stain seep into the cream fabric of your ball gown as it continues to travel downwards.

you hear cressida giggle. you look up.

“better,” she simpers. “beautiful at last.”

her posse sneers with delight. the guests who had tried to suppress their laughs do nothing to hide their mirth now.

this is entertainment for them. my humiliation— it is entertainment for them.

you step into cressida’s space, eliciting a stunned gasp from her as the others follow suit, and shove your face as closely to hers as possible.

“if we were not in your domain, i would rip out your delicate hair and strike my hand across your pretty little face. but i am a lady—not in blood nor in title, but in character. and with your words and your deeds, you have shown just how utterly undeserving you are of such a title with your complete void of morals, compassion, and integrity. i do not care what you think of me, cressida, or what drinks you pour on me because i can rest easy in my sleep and waking hours knowing with perfect certainty that i am nothing like you. i bid you good night.”

and maintaining the ferocity of your glare on her horrified eyes, you muster up the most mocking, deep curtsy you can, turn, hitch up your skirt, and run away. you cannot care for the booming silence from that creature and her posse, for the murmurs and glowers of the ton thrown your way. you cannot take time to process what words a flutters-inducing voice snarls at cressida.

no.

you must simply run away, quickly and efficiently, because you refuse to give into these monsters’ satisfaction of seeing your tears.

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ III.iv ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

the cool air of the night whips your face as you run as far and as deep as you can into the gardens. you curse your damned shoes, for they are slippery and nothing like your sturdy boots, and they make you realize even further how much you have fucked up in allowing yourself to get this far. in allowing yourself to go to the ball, in allowing yourself to dance, in allowing yourself to fall in—

feeling your shoe catch on something, you fall forward and throw your hands out in front of you, your gloved palms digging into the bark of a tree trunk as you attempt to steady yourself. you attempt to control the staggered rhythm of your breath, the sobs that choke out of your throat, the palpitations that threaten to collapse your heart.

why did i allow myself to get this far?

“y/n—”

you snap your gaze over to the call of your name as your stomach knots, somehow, even now, with flutterings upon hearing his voice.

“benedict, no— just— no,” you manage to croak out, stepping away from where he approaches. you hold up your hand, as if it is a magical force that will push him away. it does not. “just go, please, just go.”

“i refuse to leave you, y/n, you are hurt—”

you cackle, sniffling the snot that tries to escape your nostrils. you push your remaining hand off the tree and turn towards him.

“hurt? what gave you that impression? is it the tears? they are just water, benedict, they will dry.”

“this is not the time to jest!”

“then what do you want of me!”

“to allow me to help you!”

“why! why do you care! why do you care for some, some low status person like me!”

“that is not how i see you!”

“THAT IS WHAT I AM.”

he freezes. you feel yourself clenching your hands into fists, your nails digging into your palms through the satin of the gloves that were bought for you.

“you are the son of a viscountess, a brother to a viscount. i wonder every day if my family will have enough food to eat at our one meal. we—” you gesture between the two of you, “—are not of the same world. and maybe, maybe it should have stayed that way. to, to have stayed in our own worlds. we should have stayed in our own worlds!”

“and is that what you want?” he shoots back.

“what?” you snark.

“is that what you want? for us to stay in our own worlds?”

you fall silent, words suddenly failing you, breath suddenly leaving you. he huffs out a breath and continues.

“if that is what you want, i shall stay away from you. i shall never bother you. i shall never hurt you as i have. we shall—” benedict swallows, “we shall forget each other. if that is what you want, y/n, i shall give it to you.”

you do not respond to him. you stare into him as he stares into you.

“is that what you want?”

you shake your head as you feel fresh tears rush to your eyes.

“then what do you want?” he softly asks.

you flutter your eyes closed and breathe in. on your exhale, you open your eyes to the tear-blurry sight of benedict still looking at you with such tenderness in his ocean eyes.

“i want you,” you whisper.

you barely have time to process anything else when benedict surges forward and wraps his arms around you in a crushing embrace. tears fall even harder than before as you cry into his chest and wrap your arms around him.

benedict pulls back from the embrace to look at you, to cup your cheek, to wipe away the tears that fall so quickly from your eyes.

“i want you, y/n. i want to be yours. i want to be in your world, i want our worlds to be one. i want to go wherever you go. i want to make you laugh and to make you smile every day and every night; i want to do everything with you. i want to be with you, to share this life with you. from the moment i met you, from the moment you intended to shake my hand, i have wanted nothing more than to share all the time i have on this earth with you. i do not care for balls, i do not care for the ton, i care— i care for you, y/n. these are not the circumstances in which i wanted to confess this, with you crying and us yelling at one another, but i must be true with you. i—”

“benedict?”

“yes?”

“may i kiss you?”

benedict’s jaw drops and you laugh at his shock, sniffling your nose as you beam at him. he quickly recovers, breaking out into the smile that has always made you flutter with butterflies, the smile that you always secretly hoped, dreamed, wished was reserved for you. and you begin to think that, after all this time, perhaps it is.

“good god, please, yes—”

he barely completes his ‘yes’ when you jump forward to crash your lips into his. benedict practically trips backwards with the force of your eager leap, the two of you laughing into your kiss at the messiness of it all, as he holds you both steady.

this is your first kiss. you are so glad that it is benedict.

and somewhere within you blooms the hope that he is your last first kiss.

you have no idea what you’re doing, or what you should be doing, but you are far too much enjoying having benedict’s lips on yours, your hands on his cheeks, his hands on your waist, and your bodies pressing more and more into each other to give the slightest care. and the smile you feel against yours makes you think that benedict doesn’t mind—at all.

you pull apart to breathe, but your lips do not move far from one another.

“i love you.”

“i love you, too.”

“and i am sorry.”

“for loving me?”

you feel benedict jump back as he holds you, his face absolutely crestfallen, panic flooding his eyes, and he’s about to open his mouth to speak when you giggle and peck his parted lips with yours.

“i’m teasing you, my love.”

benedict’s eyes soften but quickly glint with mischief. you’re curious about the expression when you feel him tickling the sides of your waist.

“okay, okay!” you gasp with laughter as he tickles on. “i— i yield, i yield!”

benedict grins victoriously, his tickles fading into him softly rubbing circles on your waist.

“i am sorry for saying that is not how i see you, when you spoke of your social standing. i had not meant it that way, but i understand now how it was understood, and i should not have said it as i did. i know that i have lived a life of unfathomable ease with the wealth and circumstances into which i was born. the privileges i hold are not things i had reflected on, really, until— until i met you.”

you soften at his earnestness, by the way he humbles himself before you. but you cannot help the giddy mischief that bubbles from within.

“did you only reflect on your privileges as to win a femme’s favor?”

benedict’s jaw drops again, but you see how his ocean eyes shine with like-minded playfulness.

“do you truly think so lowly of me?”

you grin.

“perhaps.”

you feel benedict teasingly threaten his hands into tickling position onto your waist, and laughing, you shoo them away. he grins and softens his gaze once more.

“what i wanted to say to you earlier is— i wish you did not speak of yourself so harshly. as if you are unworthy of care from me because of your status. i care for you, i love you, y/n, as you are. as you were, as you will be. with all your circumstances, all your experiences, all your deeds, all your words, all your thoughts, all your feelings. for your heart, for your mind, for your soul. i love you because you are you, and i wish for you to see that, for you to see you as i see you. as so many of us see you.”

“i— i do not know what to say.”

“you do not have to say anything; just to, if i may ask of you, seed my words into your heart and mind and soul and know them to be true, wholly and completely,” a playful smile forms on his lips. “though, i must say, i am rather pleased with myself for rendering a writer with ferocious conviction speechless.”

you roll your eyes, but your voice is soft.

“you have had that effect on me for quite some time, benedict.”

benedict swallows and gently rubs circles onto your waist again.

“i love you, benedict.”

“i love you, too.”

< y/n and benedict, hand-in-hand, start to walk towards the house; they are taking their time. >

“are you certain you want to return the ball?” benedict inquires. “we can stay here in the gardens and wait until the last of the guests have gone.”

you hum.

“i would like to dance.”

“ah, was there a gentleman or a lady who caught your eye, miss y/l/n?”

“oh, loads. i hope it won’t make you terribly jealous, mr. bridgerton.”

“it will, but i shall simply stare at them maliciously if their hands are to roam.”

“yes, my form is reserved for your hands and your hands alone.”

you exchange grins.

“indeed.”

benedict nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, and you laugh. he lifts his head and plants a soft kiss on your temple.

“are you certain? i do not mean to doubt you or your wishes to dance. we can dance out here, under the bright light of the moon. i want you to feel content and safe.”

“i do feel content and safe. with you. with the family. within myself. i shan’t let the ton or cressida ruin my first ball. though, the idea of dancing in the moonlight is quite enticing. perhaps another night?”

“you have my word,” and bringing your hand to his lips, he kisses your knuckles. a serene silence falls between you two until benedict makes some sort of a noise in his throat, as if to clear his voice.

“i, uh, must say,” benedict begins, “your confrontation with cressida was, uh, quite— alluring.”

you stop, letting go of his hand, and stare at him.

“alluring?”

a delicious blush colors your love’s face.

“indeed.”

a newfound bravery blooms in you.

you step into his space, not breaking eye contact with his blown out pupils, the ocean of his eyes mere outlines. you sneak your lips towards his ear and hear a soft whimper emit from his lips.

“is that something of interest to you, mr. bridgerton?” you murmur, your bottom lip barely grazing his earlobe. you feel him shiver and inhale. “when you see someone be put in their place?”

he exhales frantically.

“it is something of interest to me when— when you do it,” he admits, as if out of breath. you smile, pressing your bottom lip softly into his earlobe. he does nothing to hold back his moan as you do everything in your power to hold in yours.

“that is good to know,” and quickly rip away from him.

in your step back, you take in benedict’s state—flustered, expectant, ruttish—and wink at him. you turn and walk away at your leisure, putting on a performance of superiority as you hide your own arousal.

it is only a few moments later that you hear benedict follow you.

“you,” he says, voice still fraught with desire but full with love, “will be the death of me.”

you look back at him and grin.

“and what would you like me to put on your epitaph?”

“benedict bridgerton, he who, in life and in death, loves the best soul to have ever existed.”

you cannot help your giddy self and close the distance between the two of you once more, grabbing his face and pressing your smile into his. benedict happily obliges as he places his hands at the low of your waist and pulls you closer into him.

< they get into it!

< y/n takes off her gloves so that she can touch benedict; she is about to throw them on the ground. >

“wait—”

and he takes your gloves.

“hm?”

“your gloves. they were costly to make,” benedict states as he stuffs them into the inside pockets of his jacket. “i don’t want to be flippant in letting them be discarded to the ground.”

you gape at him.

“you concern yourself with the cost of my gloves?”

“why, yes, of course, it is something i—”

you clutch onto the lapels of benedict’s jacket and push him backward into a nearby hedge, his mouth now agape and his pupils dark with a desire you very much want to satisfy.

“i find your consideration quite alluring.”

in the midst of his apparent arousal, benedict giggles, and that makes you grin.

“what is it?”

“a hedge, y/n? of all things to anchor me against?”

you roll your eyes.

“it was this, benedict, or the bark of a tree.”

“ah, so i should be grateful then.”

you repeat his words with sped up mockery, making him laugh and the corners of his eyes crinkle in the adorable way that is so very distinctly benedict, and you capture your love’s lips again to shut him up, smiling and laughing into the kiss.

…

“what do you want?”

“you. whatever you want, benedict, i want it. please.”

“are you certain?” he breathes into your ear.

“god, yes, benedict, please, yes.”

“then—”

benedict positions his head downward, burying his face into the crevice of your bosom, and before you can even begin to tease him for his absurdity, you feel the wetness of his tongue flat against the curvature of your right breast. your gasp of surprise quickly transforms into an ungodly guttural wail, feeling yourself dig your fingernails into benedict’s back, arching into him to steady yourself, as he painstakingly drags the flat of his tongue from your right breast against the expanse of your exposed chest to the length of your right shoulder. dazed and euphoric, you feel how benedict sneaks towards your ear, hovers it, panting ragged breaths,

“i’ve wanted to do that since you descended the stairs in that dress. and—”

taking your left hand, benedict pushes your middle finger and forefinger fully into his mouth. he methodically works his tongue against them as he guides your hand to pull and push in him, his blown out pupils never once leaving your intoxicated stare. you feel the desperate urge to throw your head back at the incandescent eroticism that throbs from your fingertips to the rest of your body, but may god smite you if you willingly tear your eyes away from the divine sight of benedict’s almost oceanless eyes gaping into you as his gorgeous mouth sucks on your fingers. just before you feel as though you are to fully blank out and ascend into the heavens, benedict rips your hand out of his mouth, the action creating an obscenely delicious ‘pop’ sound, and, wrapping his hand around your wrist, pulls you back into him, your face finding respite just below his shoulder.

“i’ve wanted to do that since first drawing your hand.”

you laugh-cry into his jacket.

“shit, benedict.”

your love laughs and nudges his head into yours and rests it there as he softly rubs circles on your back with his thumb.

“please—” good god, breathe, “please remind me to ask you more frequently what you want.”

“did you enjoy it?”

“no, benedict, i quite plainly hated it.”

“i’d be glad to accept your critiques.”

“i know you would,” you smile into his jacket and, lifting your head, are greeted by your favorite sight: benedict, with his soft smile and his gentle ocean eyes.

“i have never felt like that before,” you admit in a whisper.

“nor have i,” he whispers back. that shocks you, and you must have made your reaction visible because benedict emits a laugh through his nose, soft smile and gentle ocean eyes unfaltering.

“but you have been with others before; you’ve had similar experiences, yes?”

you had assumed that your exhilaration must have been, apart from it being benedict, rooted in your lack of experience in such things.

benedict brushes a loose strand of your hair away from your eyes and tucks it behind your ear, his hand moving down to cup your cheek, his thumb gently rubbing it.

“yes, but those were different.”

you cock your head in response. he smiles, as if it is apparent.

“because they are not you.”

the sweetness of benedict’s ocean eyes are quickly replaced with shock then delight and then you don’t know what because he closes them as you crash your lips into his. whatever you had just felt before, you want it again. you want benedict. all of him. and you want all of him to feel what you just had.

you lick his teeth, and granting your wish, benedict opens his mouth more, groaning, bringing his hands to the curvatures of your ass, pushing your bodies even closer together though no space left exists between the two of you. you move your hand to the back of his head and, gripping a tuft of his hair, pull it roughly just as you capture his tongue with your mouth and suck hard. the sounds that benedict produce in reaction are entirely inhuman, but you vaguely deduce he is trying to say your name, and you’ve never attended a concert but, my god, nothing will ever sound as harmonious as the symphony that is your name gutturally trapped in benedict’s throat.

continuing with the work you’ve done to undo benedict thus far, you take your other hand and start to rake it against his body, starting at the base of his throat, taking time and leisure to explore, lowering and pressing into his chest, wondering wildly what beauty exists behind his damned shirt, lowering and feeling the firmness of his stomach and trying not to completely undo yourself with the sinful, transcendent thoughts of putting your tongue there, lowering and lowering and touching something curious and unfamiliar and hard and—

when he pushes you off of him.

“benedict, i— i am so sorry,” you panic, “please, what did i—”

“no, no,” he swallows, “you did— you have nothing to apologize for, my love, you were— uh— you were doing quite——” he clears his throat, “you were doing quite well; very well, actually…”

you continue to frown, still concerned.

“then why are you so tottery?”

“because— because if we were to continue, i do not think— i know i would not last for— um, for very much longer.”

you jut out your hip, putting the knuckles of your fist on it, and furrow your eyebrows at him.

“benedict bridgerton, i still do not understand what you are trying to convey. speak plainly.”

“we should stop.”

your jaw drops, as does your hand from your hip.

“why?” you practically whine. you should be embarrassed by your desperation, but to be entirely frank, you couldn't care less. benedict huffs out a laugh, still breathless, and, stepping towards you, lays a tender kiss on your forehead.

“as much as i would love for us to continue, i think being in the family gardens with a ball being held a few meters away is hardly an ideal location for the more— involved aspects of such activities. the aspects i’d like to explain to you,” he takes another step into your space, lowering his voice to an unfamiliar but enrapturing gravel, “the aspects i’d like to show you.”

you swallow your whimper.

“i—— i would very much like that,” you manage. and then you grin, “though, exploring such aspects in the family gardens sounds like it would be quite the adventure. a calculated risk, if you will.”

the alluring tone of benedict’s voice is completely replaced with a giggle, and your grin broadens as you press even closer into him and nudge your nose against his. benedict rests his forehead against yours and flutters his eyes closed.

“what did i do to have you love me back?”

you flutter your eyes closed.

“you were you. you are you.”

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ III.v ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

< ahead, y/n sees kathani. she makes the connection that kathani must have accompanied benedict as a chaperone so that y/n wouldn’t be “disgraced” by having a man by himself chase after her.

< as the two approach the viscountess, kathani recognizes how disheveled y/n and benedict look and promptly fixes them to look more presentable. she takes some hedge leaves out of benedict’s hair. >

“i see that you are well, y/n?” inquires kathani.

“never better, actually.”

she laughs, a smile falling on her lips.

“i am sincerely glad to hear that.”

< they walk closer to bridgerton house. >

“you are fortunate that it was not anthony who volunteered to chaperone. he would have not reacted well to his loved one being dishonored, as he would say, particularly on family grounds.”

“oh dear,” you say, nervous and suddenly self-conscious. you do not want to be the target of the eldest bridgerton’s wrath. “what have i done to dishonor—“

kathani laughs.

“i wasn’t referring to you, chellam. i was referring to him,” and she juts her chin out at benedict.

“me!”

“anthony will be furious when he finds out that you have been— private,” she says, gesturing to his newly tidied appearance, “with y/n in the gardens. not very gentlemanly of you.”

“he won’t find out!” benedict pauses. “he won’t find out— right, kate?”

kathani just makes a face of feigned deep thought and you chortle.

“kate!”

“i do not keep secrets from my husband, benedict.”

“but what if it’s for love?” he implores. he says it facetiously, but you feel with what conviction he exudes his true feeling.

kathani’s expression softens as she looks between you and benedict. you offer a small nod and a smile, confirming her thoughts. she beams at you but then narrows her eyes at benedict. there is no heat to her gaze; she is, however, having the most sublime time making her brother-in-law squirm.

“i do not keep secrets from my husband, benedict,” kathani repeats. benedict groans, throwing his head back like a disgruntled child, and you belly laugh at him.

“i hope you are ready for gregory to be your second,” she continues.

you almost double over as benedict snaps his head forward to look at his sister-in-law.

“gregory!”

“indeed. it is a shame as well— anthony’s accustomed second being the one he has to duel,” she sighs dramatically. “oh well. colin will make a fine replacement.”

“this family is ridiculous,” you declare, grinning like mad. “gregory seems a tad young, though. what about eloise? i am sure she would be a more than suitable second for benedict.”

“oh, i have no doubt,” grins back kathani, “but i would not dare involve a woman in the idiocy of men and their ludicrous concepts of honor.”

you and kathani laugh loudly, delighted by how much you are enjoying yourselves, untroubled by benedict’s moping.

“it has been wonderful being in love with you, benedict,” you state simply. “it’s a pity that it has to come to an end so soon."

kathani snorts. benedict stops in his tracks and gapes at you.

“you think i would lose the duel!”

“anthony is more stubborn; he would let it fuel his will to live.”

“i think you underestimate how much i love you and how that fuels my will to live.”

you smile. in your periphery, kathani smiles. despite his current displeasure with you, your love smiles.

“i suppose i do.”

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ III.vi ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

< upon returning to the ball, y/n, benedict, and kathani see how anthony and violet are ensuring that the cowpers are leaving. before the family leaves, y/n approaches cressida. >

“i do hope to see you at another one of these events. if you find a way, of course, not to have yourself kicked out.”

and you curtsy. you turn to your love, his mouth in a wide smile and ocean eyes sparkling, and offer him a wink. you hear the quartet start up.

“i believe it is time for another round of dancing. care to be my partner?”

“i would love nothing more.”

< they dance. it is sweet, silly, romantic, and delightful. both y/n and benedict touch each other beyond what is considered proper, like hands laying too low on the waist or eliminating the space between their bodies, but they truly do not care. their unabashed joy is abundantly evident to everyone in the ballroom, but they are only focused on one another. they are in their own world. they giggle, they grin; it is the happiness they both deserve.

< they dance the next set.

< after her and benedict’s third dance together, y/n makes eye contact with violet, who is at the margins of the dancefloor, eyes wide with joy. >

“as much as i love dancing with you, my love,” you beam, “i think i am in need of a new partner.”

< y/n approaches violet and with a bow asks her for the honor of being her next dance. though delighted, violet remarks how she is too old, and y/n says that the youngsters can learn a thing or two from her wisdom and skill. >

“we would need permission from the host,” offers violet.

“from anthony! you birthed him! you granted him permission to exist!”

that makes violet laugh.

< violet agrees, and they walk hand in hand to the dance floor. in this dance, y/n and violet are partnered, benedict partnered with penelope, kathani partnered with anthony. >

…

“you’ve told each other."

“has anyone remarked how keenly insightful you are, violet bridgerton?"

“no,” the dowager replies with twinkling eyes, “but it is something of which i am well aware, and take great pride in. i am happy for you both.”

“i am so glad to have your approval.”

“oh tosh! as if a mother’s approval or disapproval can get in the way of real, true love.”

“perhaps so, but it is affirming to have the blessing from someone you so dearly love in a matter such as this.”

“you make it easy to love you, my dear.”

< the dance calls for a switch in partners. y/n becomes partnered with penelope, and violet becomes partnered with benedict. >

“thank you, pen.”

“whatever for?”

“for bumping into me at the markets.”

penelope laughs.

“accidents are quite good, are they not?”

“i despise them, actually,” you declare with a grin.

< penelope reveals that benedict shared with her why he was not seen for the first three dances of the night. >

your jaw drops, and penelope merely titters in response.

“is that why i didn’t see him! because he was lurking in the crowds to prevent men from approaching me?”

“it has been my discovery that the bridgerton brothers do not handle their jealousies well.”

“do you think gregory shall be the same?”

“oh, i am entirely certain. he shall likely be the worst of all.”

the two of you snort as you are sent back to your partners, penelope with benedict and you with violet.

“and what has you and penelope in such giggles?”

“making barbs at your sons.”

violet laughs.

“they make it awfully easy to do so, do they not?”

< the dance comes to an end. violet plants a soft kiss on y/n’s head.

< turning, y/n connects eyes with benedict who wears an incandescently happy expression. >

how could you not see it before? how in love he is with you.

< tired but elated, y/n takes a break from dancing. she reunites with the rest of the bridgertons at the ball. y/n finally meets daphne, who remarks that she has heard so much about y/n. eloise shares how the family wished to check in on y/n when she had returned to the ball to see that she was well; in a rare smile rather than a smirk, eloise shares that, upon seeing her dance and dance again with benedict, that she looked quite well indeed. at some point in the conversation with the bridgertons, y/n inquires when she can meet francesca.

< time passes, and joy is had amongst the bridgertons, penelope, simon, and y/n. y/n cannot believe her happiness.

< the last dance is called. benedict approaches y/n. >

“may i have the honor of being your final dance of the night?"

“you aren’t tired of me yet?”

“i shall never tire of you, y/n.”

upon taking your hand, benedict twirls you once then twice as he leads you towards the dance floor. giggling and grinning, you decide to do the same to him, causing him to giggle and grin right along with you.

< they dance a fourth time. >

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ III.vii ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

< the guests have made their leave from the bridgerton ball. colin, eloise, and violet have gone to their respective bedchambers.

< anthony, benedict, kathani, and y/n walk up the steps of the grand staircase. anthony has his hand clamped on benedict’s forearm and pulls him up the steps with particular determination and quiet fury. >

“i know where i sleep, brother! i have slept there since we were children!”

“i am well aware of that, benedict, and i am also well aware of how you— roam when enticed.”

benedict looks at anthony, to you (you just shrug as you look on at the exchange with excitement), and back to anthony.

“do you people really think so little of me!”

“i do not think little of you, brother, i just know you.”

benedict’s shock deepens incredulously, though you see the smile underscoring it all.

“i am a man of honor! i am a gentleman!”

“yes, as am i, as is colin, as was father; all bridgerton men are, and all bridgerton men are idiots around the persons for whom they have affections. now, go into your bedchamber,” anthony finishes as he shoves his younger brother into the room.

“you are a nightmare!” you hear your love shout from within.

“and you are to stay here for the remainder of the night!” he shouts back, leaning forward to grab the knob to benedict’s bedchamber and pulling the door shut with a loud thud. he turns to kathani, composure returning to his senses.

“my dearest, may you call samuel and lawrence, please? i shall have samuel stationed here and lawrence stationed outside benedict’s window. they will be paid double their wage for these extemporary responsibilities.”

you laugh with your whole stomach and feel tears sting your eyes. you have no concern in hiding your howls until you remember hyacinth and gregory are asleep and promptly clamp your hand over your mouth. your hand succeeds in muffling your laughter, but marginally.

kathani rolls her eyes at her husband and deeply sighs.

“i shall,” she replies, smiling at her love’s antics.

pleased with her answer, anthony right about turns at benedict’s door, places his hands behind his back, and stands up tall, taking his temporary duty as guard with the utmost gravity. something then eases in his posture, and he turns to you.

“i hope you have enjoyed your night, y/n.”

your heart swells.

“it was wondrous, anthony. thank you.”

he beams, brilliant delight in his eyes.

“i wish you good rest.”

and with a bow of his head, anthony turns away from you and assumes his station once more, gravity and perfect posture and all.

the viscountess turns to you, her smile having softened, and says, “let me escort you back to your bedchamber. i shall help you prepare for bed.”

–

“despite his many flaws,” kathani says with all amusement and fondness in her voice as she removes the pins from your hair, “anthony is, indeed, a man of honor and honesty.”

“i never had my doubts, but—” you snort, “that has certainly proved it.”

“it is because he thinks so highly of you,” she shares, looking at you in the mirror. you turn around in your seat and connect with her eyes, eyes that are filled with so much warmth. “he cares deeply for you, y/n. anthony is only that overbearing and overly protective when it comes to his family, and he sees you as our family. we all do.”

you suck in air through your nostrils, feeling the swell of your heart. how did you get so fortunate as to be so loved by this family?

though, you detect something in kathani. her words are sincere, of that you are not doubtful, but they do not seem complete. it is as if she wants to say more, if the blossoming twinkle in her eyes is indicative of anything. but kathani does not elaborate.

instead, she picks up the brush on the vanity and gently brushes your hair. it reminds you of when your elder sister used to brush your hair before bedtime. you close your eyes, humming.

“i see you all as my family, too.”

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ III.viii ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

< the next morning, late morning. the dining room. >

“you are infernal,” benedict deadpans to anthony, staring at his brother and taking his seat next to you.

“you are incorrigible; i was correct,” anthony responds, his eyes not leaving his paper.

“correct about what, brother?” hyacinth asks.

despite their current rivalry, benedict and anthony both freeze. kate speaks on their behalf.

“your eldest had deemed it necessary to have lawrence stationed outside below benedict’s bedchamber window in the early morn and was proved correct in doing so; your second eldest had attempted to escape by way of that route.”

“stationed outside his window? why would that be necessary?” gregory inquires. he turns to benedict. “and why were you trying to leave through your window?”

in his periphery, benedict sees you whipping your head. you seem to have suddenly found some interest in the painting on the wall faced away from the current scene. he notices how you hide your smile behind your fist and how you attempt to suppress the convulsions of your laughter. kate, on the other hand, unapologetically laughs.

“i am certain you will learn in due time, gregory. it is something of a tradition, it seems.”

“will i get to participate in this tradition?” hyacinth enthuses.

“NO!” benedict and anthony shout in tandem. they look at each other, and the elder gives a ‘see!’ face to the younger. benedict just rolls his eyes.

his eyes eventually land back on you: you have now totally hidden your face in your hands with elbows perched on the table for support, any attempts at hiding your laughter now entirely gone. your entire body vibrates as you somehow squeak and guffaw into the palms of your hands.

“ugh, why do adults always speak in such vague statements!” hyacinth grumbles as she slumps in her chair and crosses her arms. she then suddenly shoots back up and looks at you. “y/n, you only speak in riddles when we play! may we play now?”

“yes! may we play now?” gregory pipes up.

“please!” the two youngest plead in tandem. benedict looks to you, and wiping away your hands to reveal your face red from laughter, you say,

“i would be— i would be delighted to do so,” you take sharp breaths in between attempts at controlling your laughter. “perhaps—” you full on snort, and it makes benedict break out into a grin, “—perhaps, after the young sorceress and— and the young knight slay the wyvern, they— they will save the— the—” you laugh hard again, “the princess, captive and forlorn in her tower.”

gregory and hyacinth shout their joy and take off from the table.

“you haven’t been excu!— oh, nevermind,” anthony grumbles in an uncanny, childlike resemblance to his youngest sibling.

benedict watches as you use your forefingers to swipe at the corners of your e/c eyes, fits of laughter still bubbling out of your mouth.

i love her, and she loves me, he thinks in awe. it has been on repeat in his mind since you confessed to one another in the gardens just the night prior. she is mine, and i am hers.

“your lordship,” you giggle still as you look at anthony, and benedict snickers, “may i be excused to play make-believe with your youngest siblings?”

anthony rolls his eyes with much theatricality, but his smile at you is sincere.

“you are not my sibling,” he states, but benedict catches how his elder brother quickly glances at him with eyes that say ‘yet,’ “you need not my permission, but yes, you may.”

you bow your head in dramatic gratitude, causing kate to titter and anthony to look to the ceiling, and you lift yourself up from your seat.

before you follow after his siblings, benedict reaches out and gently takes your hand. you look at him, and he feels how his stomach flutters when his blue eyes makes contact with your e/c. just as it did the first time, just as it did every time after.

benedict feels you softly rub three circles on his hand. he softly rubs four circles on yours.

“good day, princess,” you say with a wink at your love, slowly slipping your hand away from his and then turning to walk out of the dining room. benedict stares at you as you leave.

i love her, and she loves me. she is mine, and i am hers.

“when do you intend on proposing, brother?” anthony smirks as he puts his teacup to his lips.

benedict smiles, looking off at where your laughter is heard.

“later this afternoon.”

anthony chokes on his tea, and kate, patting her coughing husband’s back, arches an eyebrow at her brother-in-law, amusement dancing in her eyes.

“without a ring?”

benedict turns to look at the couple and grins.

“who said i don’t have a ring?”

“you are joking,” anthony says matter-of-factly. “we all are excited at the prospects of y/n officially joining this family, but you just confessed your love for one another not even twelve hours ago. we are still breaking fast! there were guards at your door and your window! how could you have already procured a ring?”

benedict smiles, digging into his pocket.

“i do not jest, brother.”

and, with pride, he holds up a thin band made of twisted paper.

“now, if you will excuse me,” benedict announces, lifting himself out of his seat, giving a kiss to the top of kate’s head, and ruffling anthony’s hair. “i must be going.”

“and where are you off?” anthony demands as he straightens out his hair.

“do you think i am going to propose to y/n without asking her family’s permission first? would not be very gentlemanly of me if i did.”

“how do you know where she lives!”

“that is what you were asking penelope last night,” kate answers. anthony looks at his wife, incredulous and in awe. benedict grins.

“exactly so, sister. i’ve always known you held all the intelligence between you two. i would have seen to it sooner, but—”

an image of e/c eyes and ink-stained hands flashes in his mind, the flutterings in his stomach intensifying. butterflies— that is what he will paint next, he decides.

after he finishes his portrait of you.

“—i was held captive in my tower.”

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exhuastedpigeon · 1 day

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Tease Tidbit Tuesday

I have been sick and crampy and PMSy the last like six days, but today I woke up and feel like a whole new human.

Here's a snippet from my Eddie goes to confession fic. I restarted it after the last episode and I am very please so far with it, even if it's extremely introspective and I'm kind of using it as my own therapy.

The front doors to the church are heavy and when he opens them and steps inside he’s suddenly 5 attending his youngest sister's baptism. It’s important, that’s what Abuela says as she sits with him in a pew at the front of the church, the scent of incense that is no longer burning making him sneeze. And he’s 8 taking his first communication and not really understanding what it means, only that it’s important. That eating this stale, dry cracker is supposed to change something inside of him, but he doesn’t feel different. And he’s 13 the Bishop is dipping his thumb in the oddly sweet smelling chrism and saying “be sealed with the gift of the Holy Spirit” and Eddie is saying Amen. This is the moment where he’s supposed to be choosing to commit himself to God, but he didn’t have a choice of being here, not really. And he’s 18, freshly graduated from high school watching as Shannon walks down the aisle toward him in a hand-me-down wedding dress, the bump of her stomach just barely starting to show. His suit is too big and too small at the same time. The smell of sale church air, of dying flowers and decades of prayers breathed out to a god Eddie isn’t sure exists feeling like a vice around his neck. And he’s 26 carrying the casket of the only woman he's ever loved, the smell of burning frankincense tickling his nose and prickling at his eyes even though he hasn’t cried, not since the hospital. And he’s also 31 standing in the doorway of an empty church that he’s never been to before but has somehow been in a hundred, maybe a thousand times. Because that’s the thing about catholicism - it never really leaves you. It burrows deep, into the very marrow of your bones and leeches the life out of you if you let it. It riddles you with guilt for sins you haven’t committed. It tells you that you were born a sinner and you’ll die a sinner and every moment in between should be spent in penance. That unless you follow the church’s teaching exactly you’re condemned to an afterlife in hell. That anyone who doesn’t accept the church is condemned even if they’re the best person to ever exist. It doesn’t leave you - it chokes you and makes you hate yourself. It’s made Eddie feel like less than for his entire life and when he takes in the first lungful of air he can taste thirty some years of guilt on his tongue.

Tagged by @elvensorceress @diazsdimples @tizniz @spotsandsocks @jesuisici33

@dangerpronebuddie @wikiangela @cal-daisies-and-briars @goforkinard

No pressure tagging @tommykinards @spagheddiediaz @neverevan @inell

@monsterrae1 @loserdiaz @thewolvesof1998 @thekristen999 @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming

@wildlife4life @devirnis @butchdiaz @911-on-abc @rainbow-nerdss

@steadfastsaturnsrings @underwaterninja13 @watchyourbuck @actualalligator @rosieposiepuddingnpie

@acountrygirlsfun @honestlydarkprincess @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @fortheloveofbuddie @bi-buckrights

@shitouttabuck @theotherbuckley @loveyourownsmiilee @hawkbutt @epicbuddieficrecs

any anyone else who wants to share!

#my wip #911 wip #eddie diaz #this fic will likely have pining Eddie and endgame buddie because that's who i am #but right now it's just all about our babygirl eddie diaz #WIP: Give your heart and soul to charity

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canirove · 1 day

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Friends, lovers... and an orange | Chapter 1

Summary: Since the day Adele was born, people had told her she was destined to fall in love with Mason. Their mothers, supermodels Elizabeth Turlingon and Toni Mount, had been best friends since they were teenagers, and according to everyone, it just meant to be. But after 25 years, nothing of the sort had happened. Nothing, until some photos and a big secret changed it all.

Author’s note: And after almost two years since I started writing this story... it is finally live! 😅 You are lucky my perfectionist self doesn't allow me to post anything that isn't finished, because you would have have been waiting for an ending for ages, and I hate that 🙈 This is a friends to lovers story inspired by all those conspiracy theories about a couple not being able to be together because their evil management team don't allow them to, but with a twist. I hope you like it, and as always, thank you for reading! 💜

Next chapter (coming out on Friday)

Masterlist

Elizabeth Turlington and Antonia "Toni" Mount had been two of the most famous models in the 90's. They both got to be on Vogue covers all over the world, walked for the best designers, and became the face of the most important brands in fashion. They were, what you call, supermodels.

Best friends since they met during a casting when they were just 16 years old, Elizabeth and Toni became inseparable, and their private lives kind of followed the same path. They both got engaged and married the same year, and their first kids were born just a few months apart. First Mason, in January, and then Adele in July.

The media had gone crazy about it, saying that they were going to fall in love and get married because they were destined to be together due to their mothers being best friends. But almost 25 years later, nothing like that had really happened.

Mason, Toni's son, had decided to follow his mother's steps and become a model. Unlike many others, he had chosen to start from the bottom, doing castings like everyone else. He had wanted to make a career due to his talent and not because of his last name (he had taken his mother’s instead of his father’s as an homage), and he had managed to do it. Mason was now considered one of the most successful male models, his face basically being everywhere. Brands were fighting to have him on their campaigns, all the designers wanted him on their shows, and your party was nothing if he wasn't attending. He was THE one.

Meanwhile, Adele had chosen a quiet life. Everyone had always told her that she had gotten the best of her parents, her mother's looks and her father's brain, but she had never been interested in modeling. She had focused on her studies and going to uni, and the only thing related to that world that she liked was photography, which also was the thing that she and Mason enjoyed doing together the most.

Growing up they weren't super close, they were just... friends. They had never been attached to the hip like people expected them to be. That, had actually been their little brothers' case. But their relationship would completely change every time there was a camera involved.

When Adele turned eleven, her dad gifted her her first proper camera, and Mason was as fascinated by it as she was. They spent the day learning how to use it, and after getting the hang of it, their days would consist in going outside and taking photos of each other or anything they saw. A tree, a rock, the sunset... It didn't matter. They would be gone for hours, though for them time flew by.

As they grew older and busy with their own lives, they started to see each other less often, but the couple of weeks in the summer they spent together with their families were a must, and both of them would bring their cameras and go out to explore.

"These photos are stunning, Adele" Toni said.

"Thank you" she smiled.

"What about mine?" Mason asked.

"Lovely too, darling. But she has something you don't have."

"Thank you, mum" he said, rolling his eyes. "Though I agree. Addie here is the talented one."

"Thank you" she replied, Mason putting an arm around her shoulders and hugging her.

Addie. That had been his nickname for her since they were kids, and everyone else in their families had picked it too. Addie and Mase, something you could still see carved on a tree in her grandmother's garden. They were twelve when they did it, and she almost killed them when she saw it.

"You know, I've been thinking and... Why don't you take the photos for my 50th birthday party?" Toni said. "I was looking for someone, but why pay a stranger when I have you?"

"That's a wonderful idea!" Elizabeth said. "Now you won't have an excuse to not attend."

"You weren't coming?"

"I... I'm just busy with..." Adele mumbled.

"With nothing. You just finished your degree and still don't know what to do next" her mum said. "She'll be there."

"Wonderful!" Toni smiled.

"It'll be a small thing, you will be fine" Mason said. "And if you need help to run away or hide, you can always count on me" he winked.

"Thank you, Mase" Adele smiled.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

Flashforward to Toni's birthday party. The small thing, wasn't small. At all. Adele had already taken photos of over fifty people and more were arriving, and by the time she was done with the photocall, her memory card was full.

"How is it going?"

"Shit, Mase. You scared me" she laughed.

"Sorry" he smiled, that cute dimple of his showing.

"I'm lucky I brought several memory cards with me. A small thing, you said?"

"Yeah… You know my mum" Mason replied, scratching the back of his head. "Do you want to have a drink or something before going back to it?"

"Sure" Adele said. "Just let me put my camera somewhere safe."

Once they were done with that drink, it was time to go back to work, and she filled two more memory cards before Mason went looking for her again. But she just couldn't stop taking photos of all the guests and what they were wearing, of them dancing, talking, drinking, laughing... They all were captivating.

"Mum wants you with us for the cake."

"What? And who will be taking the photos?" Adele asked.

"I don't know" Mason shrugged. "But she wants you there with us and your parents."

"Ok" she sighed. She hated being in front of the camera unless it was Mason the one behind it. Somehow, he always knew how to make her feel comfortable. "By the way, who was that girl you were talking to earlier?" Adele had been drawn to her the moment they had crossed paths. She had the most beautiful black hair she had ever seen, and after taking a few snaps of her, she saw her talking with Mason. Or flirting, to be more precise.

"We were on a shoot together a couple of weeks ago. She's nice."

"And she fancies you."

"What? Nah. She's just a work colleague, nothing else."

"If you say so... But what about that other girl? The one you were seen with the other day, the singer."

"Addie, are you interrogating me about my love life?" Mason laughed.

"No, I was just... It doesn't matter."

"I'm going on dates but I'm not dating anyone. Got what you wanted?" he smirked.

"That's not why I asked. I…"

"Mason, Adele. C'mon!" her mum called after them. "It's almost cake time!"

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

By the end of the night, Adele had five memory cards full of photos, her feet hurt like hell, and she was slightly tipsy.

"Do you think your mum will mind if I don't have the photos ready right away? I think it will take me days to go through all of them and edit them."

"Yeah, don't worry. Take your time" Mason said while helping her pack her camera. "And if you need an extra pair of hands and eyes, just call me. I'm free for the next few days."

"Thank you, Mase" she smiled.

"Do you want me to accompany you home?"

“There is no need. But if you could wait with me outside until my uber comes..."

"Of course. And we could share it if you don't mind. I'm going back to my place instead of my parents."

"Worried your mum may not allow you to sleep until lunch time?" Adele chuckled.

"Exactly" he smiled.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Why is that car taking so long?"

"I wish I knew" Adele yawned.

"Tired?"

"Very" she said, resting her head on Mason's shoulder. "And a bit cold too."

"Come here" he said, putting an arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer to him. It was something he had been doing since they were kids, and it felt natural, familiar… comforting.

"You smell really good tonight. What perfume are you wearing?"

"Can't tell you, it isn't out yet."

"A new campaign?"

"Yep. You'll get tired of seeing my face everywhere.”

"Of seeing your face everywhere again, you mean" Adele teased him. "But congratulations, Mase. A perfume contract is huge!"

"It is, yes. And I'm really proud of this one. I actually helped pick some of the ingredients."

"You did? That's amazing! Let me smell you again."

"Ok" Mason laughed, moving his head so she could do it better.

"Oranges. Of course you had to pick oranges."

"They are my fave, and yours too” he smiled. “And they remind me of that trip to Italy, the one where we ate the best pizza ever at the beach."

"Oh my God, that pizza was so good… Now you are making me hungry!”

"Maybe we could stop to eat some on our way home. If the uber ever..."

"There it is" Adele chuckled when the car stopped in front of them. "Should we stop at Giorgio's?"

"You know the way to my heart, Addie" Mason smiled while opening the car's door for her.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Addie… Addie, wake up. Ad… Adele!"

"What" she mumbled, slowly opening her eyes.

"Something has happened, Addie. Look" her friend Jourdan said, literally putting her phone in her nose.

"I'm not that blind, you know" she complained while picking it. "What is this?"

"This was published this morning. Is... Is it true? Did you...?"

"Did I..." she said, her eyes finally adjusting to the light and being able to read what was on the screen. "Mason Mount and Adele Turlington caught kissing! The couple was seen outside Toni Mount's birthday party sharing confidences, laughing and getting cosy before leaving together in the same car." "What the fuck?"

"Addie, are you dating Mason? I thought you didn't like him like that" Jourdan said.

"What? No! I'm not dating him and I didn't kiss him!"

"Then why does it totally look like it?"

"It was the angle! I was just smelling his neck!"

"You what?" her friend laughed.

"It's a long story. But I didn't kiss him!"

"Well, the whole world thinks you did. And people are going nuts about it."

"Wonderful. That's just wonderful" Adele sighed.

Knowing how much people wanted them to be together, she and Mason had always been careful around each other to try to not start any rumours. But that night, they had let their guard down, the idea that there could be paparazzis still waiting outside never crossing their minds. And now, what they had always feared, could have started.

#mason mount #mason mount fanfic #mason mount imagine #football fanfic #football imagine

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jesuisici33 · 2 days

Text

Tease Tidbit Tuesday

tagged by @diazsdimples @tizniz @bidisasterevankinard @spotsandsocks so I haven't stopped thinking about buck's "yeah i'll check out a hot guy's ass but that's normal line" and we all know eddie's checked out buck's ass so...here's the start of something?

It’s always the alcohol isn’t it?

Loose lips, sink ships and all that.

That’s the only thing going through Eddie’s mind later when he gets home from Buck’s loft and his entire worldview is turned upside down.

They were at his place playing cards. After that one poker game he took Buck to, Eddie found he enjoyed playing all sorts of card games with Buck. Even though his math powers are now gone, that didn’t mean they couldn’t still have fun. Both of them had their usual beers with them, although this time they decided the loser has to take a shot of tequila after each round.

So far Eddie lost two rounds. Buck lost one. His limbs feel all nice and lose, his body practically draping over the chair.

“So how did you figure out you liked Tommy anyways? You know – in that way.” Eddie still hung out with Tommy a couple of times. And he’s seen Tommy’s face light up when he saw him get a text from Buck. The type of brightness only a man smitten in a relationship could be. The same type of face he remembers seeing on Buck when he told Eddie, I kinda can’t stop thinking about him. And he’s seen Tommy drop Buck off at the station, kissing him goodbye as Buck is literally skipping to the locker rooms to get changed. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Buck so happy before.

A part of Eddie loves that for Buck. He can’t remember a partner of Buck’s ever making him feel like that. Another part of Eddie feels…not exactly resentment, but something close to that. And it eats him up inside. He should feel blindly happy for both his best friends. Yet for some reason he hates that Tommy is the one that brings that kind smile to Buck’s face.

That same smile graces Buck’s face now. “Oh, when he kissed me. I didn’t even know I wanted it until he did it. That’s, uh, when I realized I liked men. Who knew there was a reason I was checking out hot guys’ asses after all this time?”

Eddie scoffs. “Well, that’s normal. We’ve all checked out a hot guy’s ass before. Doesn’t mean you’re gay or bisexual.”

Buck’s eyebrows scrunch together. “Um, right. Do you got any threes?”

tagging @911-on-abc @hippolotamus @eddiebabygirldiaz @monsterrae1

@exhuastedpigeon @liminalmemories21 @theotherbuckley @thewolvesof1998

@wikiangela @wildlife4life @filet-o-feelings @mammameesh @carlos-in-glasses

@cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @paperstorm @pirrusstuff @your-catfish-friend @watchyourbuck @daffi-990 @steadfastsaturnsrings

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