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#daphnes just the beginning
ezlo-x · 9 months
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Genuinely I believe Zelda shouldn’t have returned human. The story talks about how draconification is forbidden due to the high risks of losing your sense of self when you become a dragon. There should’ve been a consequence to Zelda’s actions, like yeah it is annoying that Zelda has been put to slumber AGAIN but this time for more than 10 thousand years rather than 100. But how could you come up with an interesting concept of how high risk it is and there is no punishment? Maybe I’m going crazy over how safe it was played and don’t get me started about Link’s arm
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whenever someone reads a prequel or a retelling and complains about knowing how it will end since the beginning I'm like. bro. dude. bitch. however you prefer to be referred to.
✨THATS THE FUCKING POINT✨
It's about the tragedy of reading all the ways the characters are unknowingly building towards the very same fate they are so desperately trying to avoid.
ITS ABOUT THE BITTERSWEET JOY OF KNOWING THEIR STORY IS STILL WORTH TELLING.
REGARDLESS OF HOW IT ENDS.
if your story is only good when reading through it the first time? if the reading experience is spoiled by knowing what happens?? (pun fully intended) it's not that well crafted a story imo.
Sometimes it's not about what is going to happen. Sometimes it's about reinterpreting the characters. Sometimes it's about exploring themes through a story we already know.
Sometimes the storytelling is enhanced by knowing how it is going to end.
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evergone · 10 months
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Hypocrite
Theodore Nott x Reader
Warnings: 18+ content (sex), swearing
Description: The reader is embarrassed by the hickies Theo left on her, but she's not one to speak.
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Merlin, you were pissed. Or, maybe — maybe you were embarrassed. Afterall, there were purple and yellow bruises all over your breasts and along your collarbone and up the sides and back of your neck. Despite your best efforts, your makeup hadn’t covered them all, and the collar of your blouse kept smearing the foundation and exposing more of them to the entire student body. A student body who couldn’t stop talking about you.
“Trip down the stairs did you, Y/n?” Pansy teased.
“Our very own Slytherin slut,” Daphne laughed fondly.
“By the name of Salazar,” Blaise breathed heavily at the sight of them.
You could only sigh in frustration, your head in your palms, “Guys, stop, please. Everyone and their mothers are giving me shit about it, you don’t need to join in.”
You weren’t lying. In Defense Against the Dark Arts, Snape had practically burnt a hole through your neck, and then, in Transfiguration, McGonagall had quietly asked if you needed to step out to touch up your makeup. The worst, however, was Potions with Slughorn. His opinion of you since the beginning of the year had been purely positive since your family were fairly wealthy and you achieved some of the highest grades in his class. When he saw the hickeys all over you, though, his bulbous nose had turned up in disgust and he made a most unpleasant grunt of disproval. You were sure you had made his blacklist.
“This warrants murder,” said Pansy.
“It does, doesn’t it?” You asked, “I am so fucking mad at him for this.”
Oh, but you could hardly speak.
You and Theo (your boyfriend and hickey-giver) both received invitations to a party that was held the night before, and despite knowing you had school the next day, you went. Once you were about ten drinks in, you were completed sloshed, and when you were completely sloshed, you got horny.
Though the crowd of party-goers stood between yourself and Theo, you could still see every part of him. He was just standing there, chatting with Blaise and Draco, a can of cheap beer held lazily in his right hand while his left was barely touching his hip. He was so, so hot. You bit your lip sexily then made your way over to him and wrapped your arms around his waist, kissing the back of his white shirt, and leaving stains of red lipstick all over it.
“Hey, Y/n, baby,” he hummed, happy from all the drinks he’d downed in the three hours prior, “What’s up?”
“Teddyyy,” you mused and stared up at him as he looked over his shoulder at you, “I want sex.”
Blaise and Draco snickered and Theo shot them a glare. After that, you can imagine what happened. Lots of moaning, groaning, grunting, panting. Enough snogging to last you both a lifetime, but not really because there was no such thing as “enough snogging,” and love making that lasted well past the rise of the sun that peeked through the window to Theo’s dorm room and illuminated every gorgeous curve of your body.
While Theo was the kind of sexual partner to want to leave marks all over you — not because he was the jealous type, just the prideful type, he liked everyone to see that he’d won you — you were the kind of sexual partner who liked it rough. You liked to feel his dick more or less pounding against your womb, so close that it almost warranted a trip to Madame Pomfrey. You liked when he thrusted into you fast, but not sloppy, always obeying your comments of ‘faster, Theo’ and ‘honey, please, I need it faster.’ But he couldn’t obey too much, you were very particular about that. He had to make you feel good, but he still had to be in control. It was always best if he gave in to every third or fourth demand, so that you had to beg for it. But the best part about rough sex with Theo? Well, it was what made you such a hypocrite.
“Mate,” Draco gaped at Theo’s back in the locker rooms before quidditch practice, “Did you get into a fight with a werewolf or something?”
Theo frowned in confusion, “What are you talking about?”
Draco motioned for Theo to move into view of the mirror and when he got a good look at his reflection he joined in the gaping. Long, red lines ran down his back like the British army at the Battle of Balaclava. He had become a canvas and you had painted him with your claws. He ought to have them clipped, Merlin’s beard.
The scratches were mostly up and down (go figure), but there were are couple that ran horizontally which Theo couldn’t place the origin of. You had torn him apart, you freak.
And that’s when you stormed into the locker room. Pucey had squealed, that was the first sign that you had entered. The second was the smart-ass warning that escaped Draco’s mouth ( “Look what the cat dragged in… or maybe she herself is the cat,” he said.
“She is the cat’s mother,” you responded, annoyed, and kicked him in the shin.
“My point still stands,” he laughed painfully).
Your hands were covering your eyes so as to not expose yourself to the privates of the entire Slytherin Quidditch team, and Theo thought you looked like a total dork in the cutest way. A pout had settled on your lips to make up for the fact that your frown was also hidden behind your hands.
“Theodore Nott!” You huffed and the locker room broke out into a chorus of ‘ooh’s, “Shut up, all of you — Theodore, look at what you’ve done to my neck.”
“I can’t really see behind your hands, lovey,” said Theo and you swore you could hear the smirk in his voice.
“Use your imagination then, I’m sure you remember what you did to me last night — Oh, aren’t you all so mature,” you hissed as the boys erupted into laughter like little children.
You felt Theo’s hands settle on your hipbones as if they were arm rests. He pulled you in until your nose hit his chest and removed your hands from your face. So safe you were in his presence that you couldn’t see any of the other boys around you. With his big eyes that were more ocean-coloured than sky, he stared down at you, and flashed his brilliantly white grin.
“You aren’t much better, you know?” He said with a tone of question in his voice and continued to talk when he realised you didn’t know what he was talking about, “My back?”
He turned for you and upon seeing the mess you had evidently made on his back, you shut your mouth.
“Even?” Asked Theo.
“Even,” you nodded.
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cobrakaisb · 8 months
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ciao bella
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summary: you and theo spend a summer in italy, and some insecurities are revealed
word count: 849
author's note: the ending is lowkey shit, but i really liked the concept.
“theo,” you called, waiting for your boyfriend’s hum of acknowledgment before continuing. “can you rub some sunscreen on my back? i don’t want to burn.” he grumbled a response in that low tone of his, but you heard the sound of the lotion bottle, letting you know that he was fulfilling your request. 
you sighed in relief as theo rubbed the cool lotion on your back, arching ever so slightly as the feeling contrasted your sun kissed skin. he placed a gentle kiss on your shoulder, “relax love.” you sighed again, sinking further into the lounge chair set up on the balcony overlooking lake como. the stunning view, large villa, and established atmosphere reminded you just how rich your boyfriend was. 
when he approached you after the holiday break during fifth year with a letter and plane ticket to italy, you were shocked. it was a little unexpected, considering that your relationship was relatively new, so you found yourself hesitant to agree. it took pansy, millie, and daphne’s words of encouragement to convince you that this trip was a good idea. spending a month in italy didn’t scare you, in fact it was a bonus to get away from your own familial issues, and of course, some alone time with your boyfriend couldn’t hurt. it was the itinerary, rather, that made you question your sanity and willingness to go.
you were flying in from london to milan, via muggle transportation, where you were spending three days in a luxury hotel. from there you were going to his family’s villa at lake como, where you’d reside for two weeks, soaking up the sun and rich atmosphere. at the beginning of the third week, the two of you were taking a private car to spend the day in florence before heading to rome for another three days. the remainder of the trip would be spent between the amalfi coast and sorrento. 
the whole thing was a lot, and everything surrounding the trip exuded wealth. between the luxury hotels, first class tickets, private tours, designer outfits, and theo’s eagerness to take you on various shopping sprees, you felt like you were in over your head. granted, your family was well off, but not nearly as financially stable as theodore’s. maybe that’s why it was hard for you to truly relax; the worry about paying theo back was eating you away, slowly but surely. 
“you’re not relaxing,” he mumbled, drawing you from your racing thoughts to the serene environment. you huffed at his words. “i’m trying too,” you replied. theo could hear the worry in your voice; he could feel it emitting off you like the faint blue glow of a patronus. he set the bottle of lotion down, climbing off your back to sit in his own lounger. he turned to face you. “what are you so worried about, darling? tell me and i’ll fix it,” he begged. you knew his blue eyes were wide and pleading behind the dark frames of his sunglasses. 
“i don’t know how you’ll be able to fix it. it think i just need to figure it out on my own,” you explained softly, not wanting to hurt his feelings, or make him feel like you were withholding information from him. (even though you technically were.) by the end of your sentence, theo had moved from his chair back to yours, taking a hold of your hand. 
his olive skin was warm and a shade darker than usual, probably from all the sun you’d been getting these past couple of weeks. his thumb rubbed gently across the back of your hand, a habit that he developed as a way to soothe your nerves and anxiety. you sighed, a deep one at that, before opening your mouth to confess. before you could truly process what you were saying, filtering the things that you didn’t necessarily want him to know, you had told theo everything; how you felt like you’d never be able to pay him back, and how you wondered if splurging on you was really worth it.  
once you finished, you took another breath to calm yourself down. you risked a hesitant glance at theodore, who’s grip on your hand had tightened over the course of your rambling. it was silent between the two of you, and you were afraid to break it. finally, theo licked his lips before looking towards you. “fuck darling, don’t ever worry about that. you being here is all the payback i need,” he explained softly, his free hand tracing the bridge of your nose. 
“theo,” you trailed off, but he silenced you with a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “you’re wearing my ring, yeah?” he asked, gesturing to the silver ring that hung on a chain around your neck. “always,” you answered. “exactly. what’s mine is yours, and it forever will be,” he replied, kissing the back of your hand as you felt your cheeks heat up. 
“now sit back and relax.” maybe spending a month with theo, the boy you loved, in italy wasn’t such a bad idea.
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hopefullyababe · 1 year
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still not quite satisfied with the order of it honestly. like all i really knew was that i wanted it vauguely in chronological order, so that as youre listening you can hear the development of walter white and jesses relationship into something that. was never good but is now 'im gonna actually kill you' levels.
i dont think i quite got that right. it may just come down to my song choice favoring their mid show dynamic more. but like. im also putting it down to the fact that it was 5am when i sorted them and i never revised it. what the fuck is you are going to hate this by the frights doing 4 songs away from do me a favour. why did i decide RIGHT THERE was the perfect place for that song. daph what were you on.
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igotanidea · 4 months
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Almost there: Anthony Bridgerton x reader
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part 1: Too much
part 2 : Not enough
***
„One of those days you will get us both in trouble, Eloise.”
Due to some miracle, Y/N and her second-in-age sister in law managed to escape the watchful gaze of all, lady Danburry, Violet and Daphne, and rushed forward on the promenade. It was generally frowned upon, that the married lady strolled in the presence of a girl, who wasn’t even a débutante yet, but neither of those two seemed to take much interest in ton’s opinion.
“Trouble from merely speaking the truth?”
“Shall I remind you that this virtue is long forgotten in the society full of hypocrisy and deceit?” Y/N whispered taking Eloise’s arm to at least keep the pretences of being discreet. It would be unwise to let anyone else eavesdrop on the little exchange of words between close friends.
“It’s almost like you don’t trust me, my dear sister-in-law.” Eloise chuckled feigning the pompous tone.
“Please don’t ever call me like that again. You were my friend before you were my family. Don’t put the distance between us now. ”
“If anything I’d dare say I’m the reason you met with Anthony and –“ the sentence was cut out abruptly, as Eloise realised that Y/N was currently in the middle of a heavy argument with her husband. An argument that made her flee the house and turned out on the doorstep on the other Bridgerton’s house announced, in search for a friendly soul to talk to. And now she actually realised that all that may have been her fault from the beginning. If Y/N and Anthony have never met, they never would have fought and never—
“Stop overthinking it, dear.” The current viscountess chuckled observing her friend’s slightly hazy gaze and recognising it instantly. Clearly Eloise was getting lost in her own head.
‘Do not call me that!” the girl’s eyes became sharp and conscious again “I can hardly stand being called that affectionately by my mother, let alone by you.”
“Worked just as planned though.”
“Well, my biggest congratulations on being effective in the matter. You are almost as good at me with it.” 
“Oh, almost? From what I can recollect I taught you most of those tricks.” Y/N smiled brightly.
“Really?” Eloise raised an eyebrow “I can’t remember. Hey what do you say we run away from our chaperones and have a proper, meaningful discussion on what’s troubling you?”
“I wish it was that easy. But I’m a wife now and apparently –“
“Viscountess Bridgerton!” a sudden voice came from in front of them and Y/N felt like actually taking Eloise advice and rushing off. It was almost like the whole world decided to prey on her misery on that particular day. First lady Danburry, now lady Featherington. “How lovely to see you! Marriage serves you well. You are beaming, dear.”
Y/N gritted her teeth in hardly hidden annoyance at such obvious show of nosiness and lack of tact. She knew instantly that she had to cut the conversation short before another wave of unwanted questions about her blessed (or not) state would come.
‘Lady Featherington. Pleasure to see you there. Are your daughters accompanying you or are they occupied with their upcoming prenuptial agreements? I surely hope they would be as fortunate with their future husbands as I am with mine. And speaking of which, if you excuse me, I need to discuss a very urgent matter on the subject with my family.”She put an emphasis on two last word and not waiting for response, abandoning all the rules of the lady behaviour, tried to drag Eloise away almost sighing deeply in frustration.
„Oh, but viscountess, once Penelope weds Colin, we will be a family.” lady Featherington stopped both girls in their tracks before they managed to escape.
„I beg your pardon, what now?”
‘Oh, you didn’t know, viscountess? Your brother-in-law is about to marry my youngest daughter. By some miracle, clearly, since Penelope--” Portia started rambling without a care in the world.
„Oh I know about that part.” Y/N faked a smile that didn’t reach her eyes „I merely have the deep conviction that us becoming family is rather an improbable claim.”
„But--”
„Dearest lady Featherington, do not push my hand here. I would rather stay in amity with you. A very fragile alliance shall you pry into my private matters. I dare say you have a certain interest in using those bold statements? ”
„I beg your pardon?”
„The viscount, is still in the charge of his famliy’s - our family’s finances. And that shall include the future fortune of Colin. Shall you insist on intruding me during my leisure time I might have a word with my husband.”
„You truly do not  disgrace yourself with being modest, do you, Y/N? Has social advancement changed you so much? I clearly remember you being a scrawny child with no aspiration and position and look at you now. A snake in a sparkish dress.”
„She can at least choose the colour that highlights her beauty and doesn't make her look like--”
„Thank you Eloise.” Y/N cut her off before she could cause some more havoc. Lady Featherington was an onerousness but her gossiping nature was something Y/N did not need in the current situation. „I shall believe lady Portia will keep our little conversation in mind for the future purposes. Hers and her daughter’s.
„Actually if the viscount is around --”
„Unfortunately, matters of utmost importance kept him at home today.” Y/N responded with the most patience she could gather at the moment. There was always a possibility of farewelling the unwanted company, but as previously stated - there was no need of spreading the rumours of some discrepancies between the newlyweds. This hydra had to be beheaded immediately before the news spread throughout London.
„Such a shame you were left to tend for yourself then viscountess.”
„I shall believe I’d receive the most warm welcome back once my husband free himself of all the duties and occupations.”
***
While Y/N was having a lively discussion with indefatigable Portia Featherington, someone was observing her closely from behind the tree, staying unnoticed themselves.
 “Are you spying on her now?”
“I’m not spying!”
“Oh really? Then tell me brother, why on Earth would you hide in the bush instead of accompanying your wife on the promenade? If I were you –“
“Good thing you are not.” Anthony muttered grumpily keeping his eyes fixed on his wife’s silhouette. Even with her cheeks reddened from the indignation and eyes sparkling with cunning intelligence she was the most beautiful woman he has ever laid his eyes on. If anything, those characteristic may have only been adding to her charm.
he viscount may not have heard all the words exchanged between two ladies, but the way Y/N was keeping lady Portia at bay, standing her own ground and not wavering in the slightest was admirable and worthy of a viscountess. Serving as a reminder that his wife was not a fragile bird who was - in his opinion- in dire need of his protection and care, but rather  a capable, strong woman, who would survive on her own.
Which brought him to another conclusion - that she didn’t rely on him as much as he expected her to. That she was proud enough to get the audacity to leave his home, leave him and decided (solely by herself!) to pay a visit to his sister.
“If I were you—“ Benedict grinned mischievously “I would run and drag Y/N away from Eloise before those two officially call you an idiot and make a plan for Y/N to leave you for good.” apparently the second son was capable of reading his older brother’s mind and pointing out all the worries that were already inside viscount’s head
“She would never.”
“I am unaware of the scope of your failure, but given the fact your wife rushed to Eloise, out of all the people must have been immense.”
“That’s it!’ Anthony hissed, almost crawling out from behind the tree, ready to clear this misunderstanding immediately.
***
„Oh, my dear!” Lady Featherington placed her hands on her hips as if she wanted to emphasize her higher position and knowledge of male-female relations. „Do not occupy yourself with the romance fantasies. Courtship is gone once the knot is tied. And after a child is born--” her gaze landed on Y/N’s stomach „you put all the efforts into keeping the family afloat and secure the future of the offspring.”
„I believe--”
„Viscountess, you are so young. So naive and innocent. Fed on the novels and stories.”
„Most of which cover the topic of history, literature and medicine rather than Shakespeare plays.” now the young woman was getting angry her cheeks flushing  „topics which I boldly presume are far from your interest.”
„I beg your-”
„I kindly forgive you, lady Featherington. Now if you excuse us - I shall wish you a good day.”
„I am not--”
„Lady Featherington.”
The sudden deep voice coming from behind made all the ladies turn around at once.
„Viscount.” Portia bowed slightly „I was just having a little chat with your wife.”
„Educating her on the specificity of marital relations?”
„Giving her some of the knowledge that her prematurely deceased mother - God rest her soul - did not have the opportunity to teach her”
„How kind of you.” Anthony almost smirked and Y/N had to muffle the chuckle forming in the back of her throat looking down. It was like she saw the old him. „However I suppose that once I am here, you shall be free of your educative duties?”
„I--”
„do not preoccupy yourself my lady. My wife shall not lack the company from now on.” having said that, Antony walked right to Y/N offering her an arm and - a sight truly unexpected - bid the older lady goodbye while leading the viscountess away.
„I didn’t need you to save me.”
„such a shame I happened to be around then.”
„My undoing indeed.”
„Unforunate event that you might have to keep the externals for the duration of a stroll.” Anthony held her tighter and closer to him while nodding head to the acquaintance.
***
„Did you gather some intel on the current situation of our brother and his lovely wife?” Benedict, who followed the two of them without any hesitation, asked Eloise.
„I am Y/N’s confidante, I shall never-”
„You cannot trick me sister.”
„Anthony is an idiot.”
„I had quite a feeling you would say something like that. Now- shall we interfere or remain passive observers as Antony makes a fool of himself begging for her forgiveness?”
Eloise smirked as they continued their following.
She and Benedict always understood each other without words.
Edit: part 4 Stuck
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theosbutterfly · 13 days
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the best thing at this party — t. nott
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❝ fighting in only your army frontlines, don't you ignore me i'm the best thing at this party ❞
pairing: jealous!theo x malfoy!reader
context: at yours and draco's annual back-to-hogwarts bash, a pair of weasleys show up uninvited, much to theo's dismay.
words: 2.3k+
warnings: jealousy, somewhat possessive behavior, reader's kind of a bitch, theo's kind of an asshole, marijuana use, alcohol use, vomiting, a little fluff, mainly angst
"so where's the principessa?" you hear theo bring you up in conversation as you and pansy descend the stairs to join the boys in the foyer. "taking extra time to fix up her hair?"
"é un dato di fatto, lo ero," as a matter of fact, i was. you lean a hand against the banister, stopping on the last step, eyes focusing on theo. there's a chance you may or may not have learned italian just to make sure he couldn't insult you without your knowledge—not that it stopped him, but at least this way, you could defend yourself. "it takes time to look this good. but glad to know you noticed my absence."
"ooh, she got you there, mate," blaise chuckles, placing a hand on theo's shoulder, who shrugs it off.
"whatever," he spat, rolling his eyes. "i need a drink."
"finally something i can get on board with," mattheo points a finger at him, and they both turn to head towards the sitting room, pansy trailing closely behind them.
"is pans still trying to get with matt?" enzo asks, tilting his head up at you as they walked away.
"beats me," you shrugged, stepping down the last step and glancing between them. "now, why are you two standing here like a bunch of statues? last i checked, party's over there." you point your thumb towards the parlor, which appeared to be glowing green.
"the gate's still open," blaise shrugs. "draco wants us to watch for 'undesirables'."
"undesirables?" you repeat the word just so he could hear how ridiculous it sounded. "has he gone mad?"
"he wants to make sure no one from the other houses show up," blaise clarifies.
"fuck that," you shake your head. "come on." you link your arms with one of blaise's and one of enzo's, waving a finger up in the air. "colloportus!" the spell causes the front door and front gate to seal shut, as you begin walking with blaise and enzo towards the music. "now, where's dobby?"
your house elf immediately appears in front of you at the sound of his name.
"dobby is here, miss y/n," he looks up at you. "what can dobby do for you?"
you unlink your arms from blaise and enzo's and crouch down to be eye level with him. "fetch me the good liquor from the cellar downstairs, and then come find me when you've got it."
he nods. "dobby is on it miss y/n!"
"what are you doing standing here all alone?" daphne greengrass saunters over to theo, who was leaning against the bar, a drink in hand.
"daphne greengrass," theo greets her. "i'm surprised you're here. wouldn't the head girl disapprove of rowdy parties as such?" he waves his drink towards the crowd that had turned the malfoy's parlor into a makeshift dance floor, and she chuckles.
"i'm turning over a new leaf," she shrugs, taking a sip of her own drink. "it is our last year, after all."
"thank merlin for that," you walk between them, and lean over the bar to reach for four shot glasses.
"y/n," daphne's voice is strained as she clears her throat. "nice to see you."
you stand up straight after retrieving what you were looking for and turn your head towards her. "i'd say the same, but i'm not a liar."
theo shifts his eyes between the two of you, slightly amused at the way daphne takes a deep breath to keep her composure while you throw her a close-lipped smile.
"where'd you get the bottle, y/n?" he cuts in to prevent a cat fight from breaking out between you and daphne, and eyes the bottle of fire whiskey in your hand.
you look at him. "i had dobby fetch it from the cellar," you say. "pans and i are gonna drink it dry."
"just the two of you?" he raises an eyebrow, condescension painting his features. "does draco know about that?"
"why?" you challenge. "are you gonna go run off and tattle on me?"
before he could reply, another voice cuts in. "oi, malfoy! are we getting pissed or what?"
you turn your attention away from theo to the one of the weasleys you'd found lurking around the corners. "well, you're quite the impatient one, aren't you, freddie?"
heat rises in theo's chest when he gets a better look of the guy under the green light, and realizes its a weasley. what the hell was he doing here? and why were you allowing it?
"time is of the essence, darling," fred tells you. "george and i are trying to get a taste of this drink you've got before we inevitably get kicked out of here."
"what are you doing here, weasley?" theo speaks through gritted teeth, and looks at you. "you invited them?"
"of course not," you shrug. "they snuck in."
theo's eyes narrow at you. "and you're offering them a drink instead of throwing them out?"
"they ditched their house colors to don ours for the night," you tell him, eyes focused on fred. "i think that deserves them a little taste of slytherin."
theo doesn't miss the way fred's eyes trail over your body, and rolls his eyes. "maybe even more than a little," fred smirks.
you giggle at his words, but before you could walk away with him, theo grabs the back of your arm, pulling you close, his lips right above your ear. "cosa fai?" what are you doing?
you tilt your head up to have your eyes meet his. "mi sto divertendo," i'm having fun. "dovresti provarlo qualche volta." you should try it sometime.
you yank your arm out of his hold and don't give him a chance to respond, waltzing away towards the crowd.
"merlin, she is fit," fred comments, watching the way your hips sway as you walk away. "is she seeing anyone?"
"if she was, it certainly wouldn't be you," theo tells him.
"we'll see about that, mate. excuse me," fred throws him a smirk, before walking away to follow you across the room.
theo watches as he does, bringing his glass up to his lips to finish of his drink.
"do you-" daphne starts, but he doesn't let her finish, slamming his glass down on the bar and walking off.
"you all look pissed," pansy stumbles over to the guys, who were seated in a secluded area of the manor that was somewhat devoid of all the noise from the party in the parlor, passing around a joint.
"not as much as you, it seems," mattheo chuckles as she falls beside him, head falling against his shoulder. "where you been?"
"drinking with y/n," she says, eyes slowly fluttering close.
"that was your first mistake," enzo tuts, taking a long drag and inhaling. "that girl can drink double her weight in alcohol."
"mhm," pansy hums, eyes fully closing as her body falls limp against mattheo.
"alright," mattheo shifts, just enough to wake her and get her up on her feet. "look like someone's had enough for the night. come on." he begins to the guide pansy out of the room, his eyes telling the guys that he'd be right back.
"what the bloody hell did they even drink?" blaise asks, shifting his eyes between theo and enzo.
"fire whiskey," theo blows smoke out of his mouth and takes another drag. 
blaise's eyes widen. "and they didn't think to share? bloody wankers."
"they were too busy sharing it with y/n's new conquests," theo replies bitterly, passing the joint off to him.
"seems to me she's sharing more than that," enzo cuts in, raising his silver flask to point at you and fred on the opposite side of the room, where surely enough, you were tucked between him and the wall, one hand beside your head and one hand on you waist.
"oh, bloody hell," theo rolls his eyes, pulling a chuckle out from enzo.
"who is that guy anyway?"
"fred weasley," theo grits out.
"you're bloody kidding," blaise snickers, leaning forward to flick off some ash from the a joint. 
"oh, i'm bloody serious," theo nods. "he's been eye-fucking her since she showed him the tiniest bit of attention. it was quite pathetic, if you ask me."
"what's with the bitterness, mate?" enzo asks, attention shifting to theo. "you jealous?"
theo scoffs. "jealous? please. non durerà in alcun modo." no way that's gonna last. you weren't exactly the "relationship" type.
enzo shakes his head. "no clue what that means, but it didn't sound nice."
"you know how y/n is," theo tells him, hand motioning towards you and fred across the room. "it's nothing but a game to her."
"so what?" blaise asks, handing the joint over back to enzo. "you bitter she won't let you play?"
"who won't let who play?" mattheo rejoins them, and sits back down beside theo.
"theo's jealous fred weasley's got his claws in y/n," enzo catches him up.
"alright," theo stands from the sofa, no longer wanting to hear anymore of it. "i'm done with this shit."
unfortunately for theo, the second he headed for the bar and away from the boys, you were also already there with fred.
"alright, freddie, what's it gonna be?" your body was bent over the bar counter, fred's eyes trailing over it as you tried to reach for two different bottles. "rum or brandy?"
"oh, i'm in the mood for something much tastier, love," fred flirts, causing theo to roll his eyes.
"bloody hell," you hear theo mutter, and stand up straight after taking a hold of the two bottles you were looking for. "can't you two do this elsewhere?"
"well, no one's forcing you to stand there and watch," you retort, eyes shooting him an ice cold glare.
"for merlin's sake," he groans, clearly frustrated. "if you wanna fuck him, at least do it in one of the many private rooms upstairs so you can at least keep some of your dignity."
the words fall out of his mouth before he can stop them, making you scoff and set both bottles down before getting close to him to make sure he hears you loud and clear. "fuck you."
you walk away from both of them and head for the corridor, while fred looks at theo.
"that-"
"don't fucking say anything, weasley," theo cuts him off, and leaves him behind, legs immediately following after you.
"y/n, wait!" he takes grab of your wrist and pulls to make you stop and turn to look at him.
"get off!" you shake his hand off your wrist, arms crossing in front of your chest as you looked at him.
"oh, smettila di essere una tale stronza," oh, stop being such a bitch. he tells you.
"you know what theo-" you start to give him a piece of your mind, when an uneasy feeling suddenly creeps into your stomach and slides up the back of your throat. 
fuck.
you immediately push past him to head for the nearest bathroom and he follows, as your knees hit the cold tile floor and reminiscents of what you ate before you started drinking came pouring out into the toilet in front of you.
"alright," theo winces, crouching down beside you to take a hold of your hair and gently rub a hand up and down your back. "let it out."
"ugh," you complain, swinging your bedroom door open and proceeding inside as you tucked your now messed up hair behind your ears. "this was not how this night was suppose to go."
theo chuckles behind you, closing your door and tossing your heels down on the ground beside your dresser.
"oh, i'm so glad you find this amusing," you spat, undoing your hair and placing the bobby pins down on your vanity.
"i just find it funny that even after two years of drinking, you still can't hold shit down," he says, taking a seat at the edge of your bed.
you mimic his words, but don't actually say anything. "ugh!" you groan loudly when it suddenly becomes much harder to tug your dress off. "why is this not-"
you stop when you feel cold fingers trail across and down your back, your skin feeling like over a hundred degrees. "hai dimenticato di aprirlo, farfalla." you forgot to unzip it, butterfly.
your eyes threaten to flutter close at the deep sound of his voice, goosebumps rising upon your skin, as he slowly unzipped the back of your dress. "theo…"
his hand lingers above your lower back, as he leaned down, lips just right above your ear. "potresti fare meglio di weasley, lo sai?" you could do better than weasley, you know that?
his breath on your ear makes a shiver run down your spine, as your head tilted back against him. "mostramelo meglio allora." show me better then.
to anyone else, this would seem odd. but to the two of you, this was just how you worked. one second you were bickering, and the next, whispering sweet nothings. it was a dance that you both knew all too well.
though the thread he used to keep you at a distance threatened to snap, theo holds himself back—you were draco's baby sister. he wasn't suppose to want you. he couldn't.
"dovresti dormire un po'," you should get some sleep. he lets himself stay beside you for one more moment, before finally pulling away—to your disappointment.
"you're not gonna stay?" you grab at the sides of your dress to keep it from falling down as you turned to look at him.
"non posso," i can't. he shakes his head at you, despite your forming pout. he didn't know what he'd get himself into if he stayed, and a part of him was afraid to find out. "buona notte, farfalla."
good night, butterfly.
part 2 coming soon!!!
re-entering my slytherin boys era bc tension with theo is the BEST kind of tension, and hopefully this didn't disappoint.
reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33
click here to be added to my tag list!!
tags: @helendeath @freshlypickledpancakes
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obsessedwithceleste · 2 months
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The Stages of Grief
Lorenzo Berkshire x Reader
Prompt 5 of @thatdammchickennugget ‘s Hogmarch challenge🫶🏽
Summary: They say that when you experience grief, you go through five stages. And after being partnered with Lorenzo Berkshire for your latest potions assignment, rest be assured, you were experiencing all five.
word count: 6.2k
©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.
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Denial
“Oh you’re kidding,” you groan as you finally spot your name on the list of assigned pairings for your next potions assignment.
You loved potions; in fact it was one of your favorite classes at Hogwarts, despite its demanding course work. You ironically found its rigid, methodical nature to be quite relaxing as moving step by step through the different recipes seemed to practically be second nature. It was a rhythmic dance that you followed religiously, finding thrill in the ever changing contents of your cauldron.
What you did not love however, or who you did not love to be more precise, was Lorenzo Berkshire. Flirtatious, carefree, and devilishly handsome, you were fairly certain that that boy could chat up a corpse. Or he could if he or his friends ever bothered showing up to class. It’s not that you disliked the boy per se, but to allow him onto your sacred ground? Into your sanctuary? You’d rather not.
Yet, there his name was, scrawled neatly next to yours on the board. It was like the universe had it out for you. Or your professor more likely.
“Tell me I read it wrong,” you complain turning to Daphne who was sat beside you.
The two of you had made an unlikely pairing in second year herbology and been inseparable ever since.
The girl just rolls her eyes at you.
“Oh come on, he’s really not as bad as you make him out be,” she sighs, scribbling notes from the board onto her parchment.
“Maybe not to you, but you’ve known him your whole life,” you grumble.
Personally, you’d always found the boy to be a bit of a prick. He was a pretty boy and he knew it, giving him a rather inflated ego you thought.
“Yeah, so don’t you think I might know him a bit better and perhaps be a better judge of character?” She asks.
“Maybe the professor will let me work alone.”
“Oh honestly, y/n. Look, at least he’s in class today. You’ll be fine, promise. And if he annoys you, even a little, I’ll owl his mother,” Daphne replies, not even bothering to look up from her notes. She was used to your dramatics by now.
“Alright, alright, everyone settle down,” your professor calls out, moving to stand at the front of the room before you can complain any further. “This next assignment will take course over the span of the next month or so, as you will be expected to collect some of your ingredients outside of class. So. Who can tell me a little bit about what this next potion that we’re brewing is?”
Your hand shoots into the air as soon as the question leaves your professor’s lips.
“Amortentia is the most powerful love potion in existence. It doesn’t really create love though, but rather infatuation which makes it one of the most dangerous potions in the world,” you recite.
“Yes, yes! Very good, y/n! Five points!”
“Really if it’s so dangerous, I don’t see why they’re teaching a bunch of sixth years how to brew it,” Daphne mumbles to you under her breath.
You let out a snicker. She had a point.
You turn back to the front of the classroom, tuning back into the lesson as your professor begins scratching away on the chalkboard once more.
“The ingredients that you’ll need to gather are as follows. Two ashwinder eggs, rose thorns, peppermint, powdered moonstone, pearl dust, and rose petals. You’ll have the next two weeks to gather your ingredients with your partners, so I suggest you begin,” your professor announces.
You feel your shoulders wilt at the thought of purposely seeking out Lorenzo, but you can already feel his eyes on you from across the room.
“Do you think if I ignore him long enough he’ll get the idea and just go away?” You whisper to your friend.
Daphne just rolls her eyes at you once more, shaking her head.
“Go,” she sighs, giving you a light shove in his direction before moving to join Theodore Nott at a different station.
With one last sigh of despair, you make your way over to the station where Enzo sits waiting for you, silently mourning your potions grade. And your mental and emotional stability.
“Mornin’ love,” he greets giving you a bright lopsided grin as you approach.
“Hi,” you respond dryly with a tight lipped smile.
“So, what’s our game plan going to be, darlin? I reckon we’ll want to get the hardest ingredients to come by first yeah?” He pushes on, ignoring your clear disinterest.
You nod your head in response.
“The peppermint, rose petals and thorns will be easy. We can get all of those in the greenhouse. The pearl dust- I assume we’ll need fresh pearls, we can probably get from the Black Lake.”
“Great. I think I have a moonstone in my ingredient collection. We can crush it down for the powdered moonstone,” Enzo offers.
You raise your brows at this. Moonstone wasn’t necessarily rare by any means, but you weren’t really expecting Enzo to offer up ingredients from his personal collection.
“That would work. We can also find them in the dark forest,” you reply.
“Nah, save us the hassle. Pretty girl like you doesn’t have any business in that musty old forest anyway,” he responds with a charming grin.
Ignoring his comment, you continue on to the last item on the list.
“I’m really not sure where we’re going to find those eggs. I don’t think we can find ashwinders on the school grounds, and they’re quite risky to breed.”
Enzo stares at you blankly.
“Remind me what an ashwinder is again love?” He says sheepishly.
“Magic serpent. Born from the embers of magic flames that are left to burn. You’re a Slytherin, shouldn’t you know all about snakes and such?”
“Yeah, let me recite to you the alphabetical list of all known magical serpent species that us Slytherins actually use as the password to our common room.”
You purse your lips at the boy’s obvious sarcasm.
“Fair enough. Still don’t know how we’ll get the eggs though.”
“I can see if we have any in our stores at the manor. Probably our best bet if we don’t want to risk burning down the school.” Enzo replies.
“Are you sure? We’re already using your moonstone,” you say, beginning to feel a bit bad about raiding the boy for supplies.
“It’s the least I can do really. I’m useless at potions, so least I can do is provide you with the ingredients that we need,” he says honestly with a light laugh.
“Well alright. Shall we meet up on Friday then to collect the pearls?” You ask, scribbling down your plans in your notebook.
“Sounds good, six o’clock? By the dock?”
You nod in agreement.
“Well alright then. See you then, love.” And with a grin and a cheeky wink thrown your way, Enzo is off.
At least he was pulling his weight in gathering ingredients you supposed.
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Anger
“Y/n! Are you headed down to the docs?” Daphne asks slightly out of breath as she runs up to you from across the court yard.
“Yeah. Enzo tell you?”
Daphne nods her head in response as you two begin to make the short trek down to the lake.
“Hope you don’t mind if Theo and I join you?”
“Course not. Probably better that I’m not alone with Enzo by the lake anyway. Wouldn’t want him to try and drown me.” You say lightly, only slightly joking.
“Oh piss off. He’s a nice bloke once you get to know him.” Daphne laughs.
As the two of you arrive at the edge of the lake, you can already see Enzo, Theodore, and Mattheo splashing about in the water. Draco and Pansy are watching disdainfully from the shore.
You hadn’t realized this was going to be a whole party.
“Daph, please get these boys under control!” Pansy shouts when she sees the two of you approaching.
“I’m not their mum, they won’t listen to me,” Daphne replies dryly.
“Sure they will. Or at least Theo will, and the other two dimwits will follow whatever he does.” Pansy replies.
“Theodore!” Daphne shouts, turning to the three boys who were waist deep in the water by this point.
“Bella?” He calls back, visibly perking up at the sight of your friend.
You watch with amusement as Daphne points a finger at the boy and then again at the ground next to her. Theo slowly sulks over to the four of you, Mattheo and Enzo following in his wake.
“Really Theodore? You’re sopping wet,” Daphne sighs, only to be met with a sheepish grin.
“Hey love,” Enzo greets, prancing over to stand beside you.
It takes everything in you to focus anywhere but Enzo’s soaking wet shirt as it clung to his chest and abdomen like a second, very see-through skin. Bloody hell.
“Hi Enzo,” you say through gritted teeth.
“Are you sure we’ll even find pearls here? I thought pearls were from the ocean, and I don’t want to risk getting wet for nothing,” Draco says, eyeing the lake warily.
“Hogwarts a History says that fresh water pearls are common in the Black Lake,” you reply.
“What’s the difference?”
“Saltwater pearls are generally rarer, more expensive.” Pansy replies easily.
“Fresh water mussels can produce multiple pearls at a time, but oysters generally only produce a single pearl in their entire lifetime,” you explain.
“So how exactly are we going to collect these mussels?” Theo asks.
“Accio.” Daphne responds, as if it should’ve been obvious. Which it was.
Your now rather large group makes it way onto the dock, squinting into the murky water for any trace of mussels in the sand below.
Daphne finds the first one, and after that, they slowly start pouring in. Eventually, there’s a sort of system in place with you, Daphne, Pansy, and Draco scanning the dark waves for the elusive mussels, while Theo, Mattheo, and Enzo crack them open to retrieve the pearls.
It’s all going swimmingly until the boys begin to get rowdy once more, with Mattheo sending a small wave of water at Enzo when his back is turned. Daphne gives the boys several warning glares as the waves gradually grow larger, only for them to start up again the moment your backs are turned.
Eventually it turns into an all out water war between the three of them once more, and you scowl as you feel a splash of water hit your leg.
Could they not cause a ruckus for one afternoon? You thought bitterly as another mussel flew into your hand. You go to place it in the pile with the others when you feel a weight hit you like a ton of bricks. Then cold. Everything is cold as you feel yourself hit the water.
“What the fuck!” You exclaim once your head breaks the surface and you frantically wipe water from your eyes.
You look over to see Lorenzo in the water near you, a grin plastered across his face. His smile quickly fades however when he sees the pure murderous intent in your eyes.
“What is wrong with you?” You shout, swimming over to him, and shoving him under the waves.
“Y/n! You can’t drown him!” Daphne yells from the dock.
“Watch me!”
“It was an accident, swear!” Enzo gasps when his head re-emerges once more.
With one last scream of rage, you make your way to land as Daphne runs to catch up with you.
“Seriously Daphne? What is wrong with him?” You rage as you storm up the hill back to the castle.
“I really don’t think he meant for you to get shoved into the lake. The boys can get pretty tunnel visioned,” Daphne offers as she follows behind.
“That’s easy for you to say, you’re not the one who went for a swim,” you mutter between chattering teeth, the cold really beginning to sink in.
“Oh I’m not defending him. Not completely I mean. He was totally acting like a right git. The other boys too. I don’t blame you for being upset, I would be too. I’m just saying, maybe don’t be too hard on him? It was an accident after all, and he really did look sorry.”
When you only shrug in response, Daphne sighs.
“Look. Give him one last chance, and if you still think he’s the worst person on earth, at least exploit the fact that he really does feel bad, and milk it for all he’s worth. Okay?”
You let out a smile at this.
“Spoken like a true Slytherin, Daph.”
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Bargaining
The following Monday when you take your seat next to Lorenzo in potions, he immediately turns his head, almost like he’s surprised you hadn’t demanded to be reassigned partners.
“I’m so sorry, y/n. I really didn’t mean for you to end up in the lake, Theo just shoved me and I grabbed on the closest thing which happened to be you. I really am sorry,” he rambles, fiddling with the quill in his hand nervously.
“It’s okay. I know it was an accident, so let’s just move on, alright?” You say with a sigh.
Maybe if the both of you just moved on, this nightmare of a pairing would be over sooner.
“Really?” Lorenzo asks, his bright personality snapping back into place.
“Sure Enzo.”
“Excellent. Because I was able to get us these,” he says proudly, carefully pulling two little eggs and a medium sized moonstone out of his bag. “Oh, and the pearls.” He adds, placing the eggs, stone, and glass container filled with pearls on the table in front of you.
You eye the ingredients carefully before determining that they were in fact all up to standard.
“Perfect. I’ll begin crushing up the pearls, if you take care of the moonstone?” You say, already pouring the shiny orbs into your mortar and pestle.
The two of you work surprisingly well together for the rest of the class period, almost as if you’d been working together for years. It takes you by surprise how easy the brown haired boy is to work with. You hadn’t been expecting much, knowing that potions wasn’t Enzo’s strong suit. But he made up for it by making sure you never wanted for anything. Needed a vial for your pearl dust? It was in your hands before you even had to ask. A fire needed to be lit beneath the ashwinder eggs to keep them from spoiling? Enzo’s wand was pointed in their direction before you had the chance to open your mouth.
As class winds down and you go to make your exit, you feel a hand on your wrist.
“Y/n?” Enzo says, stopping you. You turn to look at the boy.
“Look uh, I know that you’re not my biggest fan, or at least that’s what I gathered from Daph,” he begins to ramble, scratching the back of his neck, “but, could we maybe like, just start over?”
You’re a bit skeptical at first, but seeing his nervous smile melts something in you. Being friendly couldn’t hurt, you reasoned. And it would certainly make working with the boy easier.
“Alright, Enzo, we can start over.”
“Wicked.” He says with a grin. “Don’t suppose you’d like to meet in the greenhouse later then to gather the rest of our ingredients? Promise I won’t drag Theo and Matt along this time.”
“Sounds lovely.”
The both of you agree to meet right after classes are released that day, and as you make your way down the cobblestone path to the greenhouse, you can’t seem to push the memories of wet hair and an infectious smile from your thoughts.
“Hi love!” Enzo calls out as soon as you push open the doors of the greenhouse. The boy is elbows deep in soil, pulling at the roots of a suspiciously pink colored plant.
“How’d you get here so fast?” you ask, glancing at the clock to see that classes had ended not even ten minutes ago.
“Herbology is my last class of the day,” he explains, brushing some of the dirt off his gloves.
“Ah. So you wanted to meet right after classes ended so you wouldn’t have to make the trek back out here?” You ask, fingertips brushing the soft petals of one of the many flowering plants growing within the greenhouse.
“Well, and I wanted to see you again sooner,” he replies with a shrug and a cheeky grin.
You roll you eyes as you feel your cheeks heat up, turning quickly and hoping he hadn’t seen.
“So where are the rose bushes?” You ask, looking around at the distinct lack of roses within the building.
Enzo gives a nervous chuckle. “About that. Apparently Professor Sprout didn’t think that the common rose was, ah, dangerous enough, for her plant collection,” Enzo says, gesturing towards the various plants, “so, uh, there are none. But! We can grow them pretty easily. It might take a week or two to grow a full bush to peak maturity, but it should be fine.”
You let out a sigh. Of course Hogwarts wouldn’t grow something as simple and common as a rose.
“Alright, well. Let’s begin I suppose.”
Enzo immediately perks up as he goes to fetch a large pot and a bag of soil and you begin to rifle through the cabinets to find rose seeds. After several minutes with no success, you feel a warm presence behind you as Enzo leans over your shoulder and plucks a packet off the top shelf.
“You certainly know your way around,” you murmur, looking up to find the boy’s face much closer than anticipated. You feel heat rise to your cheeks once more and you duck under is elbow, making your escape.
“Herbology is my best subject,” Enzo says, trailing behind you.
“Ah, so you’re the Slytherin version of Neville Longbottom then eh?” You say with a grin as you watch him fill the pot with soil.
Enzo grimaces, making a face.
“No, I’m much better looking,” he says with a smirk.
Bloody self-aware bastard.
It only takes a few minutes for Enzo to bury the seeds in the soil and place several incantations over the dirt before he looks up at you with a triumphant grin.
“All good to go,” he says happily. “Though we should probably check back in daily to refresh the enchantments and such.”
You nod your head at the boy.
Over the course of the next few days, Enzo uses your time spent together to pick your brain for any morsel of information he could get out of you. He really was determined to be your friend apparently.
“What’s your favorite plant?” He asks you on the third day of your little meetings.
You tilt your head a bit in consideration.
“No, no, wait, I bet I can guess. Is it peonies? Your perfume is peony scented right?” He asks.
“Yeah, it is. Peony and vanilla,” you say, eyeing the boy suspiciously.
“Knew it,” he says, looking rather self satisfied.
“And yours?” You ask, leaning against the table to look up at him.
“Hmm?”
“What’s your favorite flower? Or plant that is.”
Enzo pauses for a moment, eyes flickering around the greenhouse for a moment before landing on you.
“I like roses.”
“Really?” You say, scrunching your nose a bit.
“I’m a romantic, what can I say?”
“Gross. That’s so cliche.” You tease, a small smile gracing your face.
As the days go on, your time spent in the greenhouse becomes longer and longer as you and Lorenzo banter about the ridiculous questions he’d come up with. Did owls have knees? Which house would win in hand to hand combat? Were Theodore and Daphne secretly hooking up in the fifth floor prefect’s bathroom? (The answer was yes.)
You were shocked to find that, while still a bit of a prat, Enzo really was rather smart and witty. As the days went on, it became easier and easier to open up to the boy until the two of you were talking like old friends.
It happened slowly. You really didn’t even notice at first. But by the second week, you found yourself looking forward to your daily meetings, and found yourself thinking of the handsome brunette when he wasn’t around, and you caught yourself staring at the boy a bit too long after he’d already looked away.
Over the years of being friends with Daph, you’d often been forced into the proximity of the boy. Always noting the way he’d easily move from one witch to the next, his charm never seeming to fail him. You had been so determined to make sure that you would never be one of those witches. Just another tally on Lorenzo’s ever growing list of conquests.
But it had happened. The unimaginable. The impossible. You were falling for Lorenzo Berkshire. No, this simply wouldn’t do you thought to yourself as you made the familiar trek to the greenhouse.
Your mind raced as you thought of ways to stop this madness. Maybe if you went back to pushing the boy away. Or if you just ignored him. Yes. If you just shut him out, these feelings would go away.
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Sarcasm
The next several days for Lorenzo were miserable. And that was putting it nicely.
“She hates me!” Enzo wailed dramatically, hanging upside down off the edge of his bed.
It had been three days since your terrifying revelation in the green house, and Enzo was very convinced that he was going insane.
He could still remember clearly the day that Daphne had introduced him to her new friend after one fateful day in herbology. You had been so wicked smart, and kind, and funny, and your smile had melted his heart. He was pretty sure he’d been in love with you ever since. But he was lucky if you even acknowledged his presence most days.
“Can you blame her? Didn’t you send a flock of peacocks after her when we were all visiting Draco’s last year?” Mattheo asks, squinting at his friend.
“I thought it’d be romantic! How was I supposed to know they weren’t friendly?”
“There’s also that time in third year, you knocked her off her broom playing quidditch.” Draco adds, scowling at the memory of Enzo harassing the birds on his family’s property.
“I caught her after!” Enzo protests.
“She still sprained her wrist.”
“Oh yea. And then you tried to give her a kiss as an apology, but ended up with a nice bruise on your jaw instead,” Mattheo laughs.
Lorenzo wasn't going to lie, that was a particular sore spot for him.
“And let’s of course not forget the most recent offense. Trying to drown her in the lake. Thank Salazar I wasn’t there for that scene.” Blaise mutters.
Enzo winces.
After the incident at the lake, Enzo was sure he was done for. The look of pure rage in your eyes had felt as though you had stomped on his heart, and then cruciod it for good measure. But then you had accepted his apology and even agreed to start things over. Enzo had felt the first real burst of hope after four pitiful years of pining.
Sure he’d made some missteps over the years. As his friends so graciously enjoyed reminding him, but he meant well!
The two of you had talked. Laughed. He’d even allowed his hand to brush up against yours a time or two, delighted when you didn’t flinch away.
And then, as if the switch had flipped, it was back how it had been before. Enzo felt like he had whiplash with the way you had turned right back around to treating him like a total stranger.
Theo eyed his roommate with concern.
“Bloody hell, he’s worse than you pining over Daphne,” Mattheo mutters, jabbing an elbow into Theo’s rib cage, earning him a sharp glare.
“I don’t understand! Things were going so well! She was actually talking to me and everything, and now it’s like I’m right back at square one,” Enzo sighs, ignoring his bickering roommates.
“I don’t know what you’re expecting from us mate. You’re supposed to be the romantic one of the group. Though with your track record, I’m not sure why we’ve been taking your advice all these years. You’re a wreck.” Blaise says, matter of factly.
“You tried talking to Daph bout it?” Theo asks, not quite sure how to help his slightly delirious friend.
“Ask me about what?” Daphne asks, seemingly materializing in the doorway of the boys’ shared dormitory.
She makes her way into the room, face morphing into one of both concern and disgust as she takes in Enzo's distraught state.
Theo eyes his friend, as if to say “good luck mate.”
Dragging himself into an upright position, Enzo considers the girl in front of him. How had he not thought of it before? Y/n’s best friend had been at his disposal this entire time, and he’d never thought to simply ask her.
Lorenzo turns to look at Daphne.
“Daph?”
“Yes Enz?”
“Does y/n fancy anyone?” He asks, trying to sound as casual and nonchalant as possible.
Daphne raises a brow.
“If you’re trying to subtly ask if I happened to know of her feelings towards you, you’re doing a lousy job."
Enzo pouts, sticking out his bottom lip and honestly looking quite pathetic.
"For Salazar's sake, what happened?" Daphne huffs, making herself comfortable on Theo's bed, much to his delight.
“Enzo is down bad. Obviously.” Mattheo states.
Daphne shoots the boy a glare, rolling her eyes at the curly haired boy.
"We've been working in the green house together, and I thought things were going so well. She was talking to me, and laughing and everything.” Enzo says, falling back into his bed dramatically.
“Well then what’s the problem? You like her I thought.” Daphne replies with an annoyed huff.
“That’s just it isn’t it? It wasn’t a problem. But then suddenly, a few days ago, she went completely cold again. Like the last couple weeks never happened." he laments.
Daphne opens her mouth. Then closes it, shutting her eyes and taking a deep breath. For the love of- she loved you. Truly she did. But you were going to be the end of her.
“I’ll take care of this.” She announces, promptly rising from the bed just as Theo was about to sneak an arm around her.
He glowers at Enzo who gives him an apologetic grin.
Daphne had been your best friend for years at this point, and most of the time, she was convinced that she knew you better than you knew yourself. She wasn't blind. Or dumb for that matter. She knew that there were some strong feelings between you and Enzo, though she had never really bothered to figure out if they were positive or negative. Clearly she should've and all of this could have been avoided she thought wistfully to herself. At least this explained the strange tension between the two of you as of late.
“Y/n.” Daphne huffs, sitting next to you on a bench in the court yard.
“Daph,” you greet, looking up from your book.
“So, when were you going to tell me that you fancy Lorenzo?” She asks, staring you dead in the eye.
You feel your mouth gape like a fish out of water.
“Right Daph. Like I’d ever fancy that peacock.” You reply, doing your best to appear disdainful.
“Don’t you get an attitude with me.” Daphne responds. She’d always been able to see right through you. “Enzo told me everything. The chatting. The giggling. The immediate turn around as if nothing had happened. Textbook case of realizing you like someone while being emotionally constipated!” Daphne announces.
“Shhh!” You hush your friend, glancing around to make sure no one had noticed the scene. “You know that being mean and sarcastic is my only defense mechanism!” You hiss.
“Oh honestly y/n. We both know you won't be able to use that excuse forever.” Daphne says with a dramatic eye roll. “Besides, he likes you too. Why do you think he’s always preening when you’re around. He’s trying to impress you, you dolt.”
“Fantastic. He’s only a prat when I’m around. How romantic,” you mutter.
“Well you certainly didn’t think he was being a prat when you were spending all that time in the green house together. Don’t think I didn’t notice you two disappearing for several hours. No one is spending that much time every day looking at flowers.”
“We were just talking,” you defend.
“Mmhm. And then you stopped talking because you got scared and now Enzo is a wreck.”
You feel a pang of guilt. You hadn’t meant to hurt Enzo. You hadn’t thought that he actually might like you too.
“I’ll apologize tomorrow in class, I guess,” you mutter.
Daphne sighs.
“Look. I’m not saying that you have to date him, or even tell him you like him. But you’re both my friends, and I don’t like seeing either of you upset.”
“I know Daph. I’m just confused is all. I thought I hated him.”
“Well, I’ve always been told that the line between love and hate is fine.” Daphne replies.
Bloody hell, when had your friend become this philosophic?
“I’ll get it sorted tomorrow. Promise.” You tell her.
Daphne nods, giving you a comforting smile.
“Good. And word of advice. Drop the sarcasm, Enz might cry if you put him through anymore emotional whiplash.”
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Acceptance
You sat nervously in the potions classroom having arrived close to fifteen minutes early as you couldn’t shake away your nerves. Glancing at the clock on the wall, your classmates should start filing in at any moment.
You’d finally managed to gather all the need ingredients for your potion, so today would be the day that you and Enzo would be able to brew your amortentia.
Your fingers twirled the stems of the roses you’d collected mindlessly as your thoughts buzzed between your conversation yesterday with Daphne, and the fluffy haired brunette boy that had taken up permanent residency in your every thought.
Remembering the silly game one of your roommates had played years ago, you began plucking the rose petals off of the stem, one by one. You were going to have to do it eventually anyway. He loves me, he loves me not, the phrase repeats in your mind.
“Look nervous,” A voice comments from behind you.
Startled out of your thoughts, you look up just in time to see Enzo take his seat beside you.
Clearing your throat, you give the boy a small smile.
“Just thinking about the potion. Not going to be an easy one to brew today, and I’d like to get a good mark,” you reply.
“Of course.” Enzo replies, a strained look on his face. “Wouldn’t want to waste any more of your time then.”
You open your mouth to reply, but close it again when no words come to mind. Instead, you opt to sweep your rose petals into a small pile and begin shaving off the rose thorns as Enzo wordlessly takes out the gold cauldron, lighting a fire beneath.
“So,” you say awkwardly, the deafening silence finally getting to you. “How bout that weather?”
You hear a clatter as Enzo drops pestle he was holding to look at you incredulously.
“I know some of my conversation attempts were bad, but that was downright criminal.” He says with a snort.
Unable to hold back your laughter, you let out a giggle. “Yeah, I’ll see myself to Azkaban for that one.”
And just like that, the two of you fall back into your comfortable rhythm of idle chatter, jokes, bickering as you work seamlessly together.
You can’t help but watch with silent admiration as Enzo dutifully stirs the cauldron, careful to keep even counter clockwise strokes. A few tendrils of soft brown hair fall in front of the boy’s face and he gently blows them to the side with an annoyed puff.
“Pearl dust?” He asks, reaching his hand out.
As you hand him the vial, your fingertips brush softly, and you feel heat rush to your cheeks. The heat from the cauldron must be really getting to you.
“If you just want to add the powdered moonstone, we should be all done,” Enzo says after a moment, taking a step back to allow you to complete the final step.
Slowly, you approach the boiling cauldron, carefully sprinkling in your meticulously measured moonstone powder. You stir the concoction a bit longer until you see a familiar pearlescent sheen and swirling tendrils of steam.
“Think we’ve done it,” you say with a smile, looking over at your partner.
He grins back, joining you in leaning over the steaming cauldron.
“Well? What do you smell?” He asks cheekily.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“We both take a wiff? On three?” Enzo asks.
You nod in agreement, watching the swirling colors within the cauldron. They say that amortentia smells like the things you’re most attracted to, and you’d always been curious what scents the potion would elicit for you.
“One, two, three.”
You lean in, and immediately you’re hit with the earthy scent of fresh soil, a soft hint of rose, and something else- oh. Oh. You feel your eyes widen.
“Peony. And vanilla.” Enzo murmurs, head still hovering above the cauldron before he turns to look at you.
The moment your eyes meet, you both know.
“I need a moment,” you mumble, hurrying out of the classroom.
As you rush past Daphne’s table, you hear the girl run after you into the corridor.
“What happened? Are you alright?” Daphne asks as the two of you come to a stop in a small alcove that’s somewhat hidden behind one of the many large stone statues that decorate the halls.
“It’s Lorenzo. My potion- it smells like Lorenzo. Or, it smells like fresh soil, and roses, and that stupid expensive cologne that he always wears,” you gasp, out of breath.
“Oh? And what did he smell?”
“Me. My perfume. Peonies and vanilla.”
“Well, that’s good then isn’t it? That you both smelled each other? I know when we talked yesterday I said you don’t necessarily have to tell the boy you fancy him, but, if you both really like each other that much. What’s the harm?” Daphne tries to reason.
“I don’t know! I just didn’t realize I liked him that much and it freaked me out. And I’ve been icing him out these past couple days, so he’s probably so cross with me. But he’s been so nice today, I don’t know what to do Daph. I’m not good with feelings. I was never going to act on anything!”
“Is that why you did all that? Back there?” A voice asks. “And why you’ve been acting strange the past several days?”
The two of you whip around to see Enzo staring wide eyed at the both of you, mouth slightly agape.
“I think I’d best let the two of you sort this out,” Daphne says, slipping out of the alcove and back into the classroom.
“I’m sorry, you weren’t meant to hear any of that,” you start as Enzo wordlessly approaches.
“You like me?” He asks once he’s close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating off of him. He looks genuinely surprised at the notion as he stares down at you intensely.
You nod slowly. “Smelled you in that bloody potion,” you mumble.
Enzo’s smile falls.
“Is it that bad? Liking me?” He asks, hurt written across his face.
“No! No it’s not! I just thought I didn’t like you- no, that’s not what I meant. I was surprised that I fancied you is all, and didn’t know what to do. Because we’ve know each other so long, and we haven’t necessarily always gotten along. And I didn’t really realize I liked you at first, and I got all freaked out and then I panicked, and-“
“Y/n, can I kiss you?” Enzo asks, interrupting your rambling.
You freeze, looking up at the boy in front of you.
“Yes please,” you murmur.
Without wasting another moment, Enzo’s lips meet yours with a hunger and passion you didn’t realize the boy had in him.
Any last trace of doubt or worry you had disappears as his soft lips move against yours, melting you into him like putty in his hands.
Right as you’re about to run out of air, you feel Enzo’s lips trail off to your cheek, placing gentle kisses as he trails down to your jaw, and then your neck.
“Enz,” you mumble softly as you feel the warm, sucking sensation against your skin in the crook of your neck.
“Shh,” he whispers, lips meeting yours once more.
You feel yourself getting lost in the sensation as he moves against you until Daphne’s voice brings you back to reality once more.
“Just so you’re both aware, we are still in class,” she calls from around the corner.
You feel your cheeks heat up as Enzo lets out a soft laugh above you.
“Rest assured love, we will be coming back to this later,” he says before placing a kiss on your forehead and leading you back into the classroom.
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If there’s one thing about me, it’s that I’ll take any excuse to write a cheesy amortentia fic🤪
Special thanks to @finalgirllx and @pizzaapeteer for editing and rvwing🫶🏽
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alotofpockets · 18 days
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Tension | Vivianne Miedema x Lioness!Reader | 18+ MDNI
Where tensions rise on the pitch, and snap something in your girlfriend.
Warnings: smut, 18+ MDNI, strap on use (r receiving)
Woso masterlist | Words: 1.2k
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Tensions were rising on the pitch as the score was stuck at 1-1 for most of the match. Vivianne scored the opening goal for The Netherlands in the fifth minute, and Alessia scored the equalizer only two minutes after. Ever since both teams have been battling. 
You had gone head to head with your girlfriend time and time again, and each time you blocked her run, or her shot, you saw the frustration growing on her face. 
Viv came running up the flank again, and once more you made the run out wide to stop her from getting through. You slide in and kick the ball out from under her feet, taking her down in the process as she falls over your legs. The tackle was clean and went out of bounds, so it would be a throw-in for The Netherlands. You get up first, and extend your hand to help up your girlfriend. Though she didn’t take it, she pushed your hand away and got up herself.
The fans knew you and Viv as the loving couple, which you were of course. You loved Viv dearly, and loved sharing the life you lived together with the world. With the both of you playing for Arsenal, there were plenty of moments the fans got to see of you on the pitch, and you shared your fair share of offline moments. 
However when you were playing against each other, a different side of your relationship was seen. Her being a striker and you being a defender meant it was your job to stop Viv from doing hers, which often came with lots of frustrations like tonight. 
You shrugged your shoulders and walked off, eager to continue the match. Daniëlle took the throw-in and threw the ball Viv’s way. It bounced off her chest right to your feet. With one swift move, you nutmeg Viv and run around her to pass the ball to Ella. You knew Viv was not going to like you nutmegging her, but you felt a sense of pride as you had successfully pulled off the move on the Dutch star striker.
On the other side of the pitch, Alessia had managed to send an assist to the far post where Chloe jumped up and changed the ball’s course of direction. The ball was just out of reach for Daphne, and hit the back of the net, along with an eruption of cheers around you in the stadium. 
You ran upfield to celebrate with your teammates, tapping both Alessia and Chloe on the head, showing you appreciate their efforts, before running back for the last couple of minutes of the match.
The match ended with a final score of 1-2. You were happy with the score, from the beginning you had known that playing against a top team like The Netherlands was going to be tough, but your team managed to pull through.
You went around the pitch, hugging the Dutch squad, as they had all become your friends since you had started dating Viv. When you got to Viv, the fans might have thought that the frustrations they had seen just mere minutes before would have an effect on this moment, but over the years you had learned to push past it. Viv wrapped her arms around you and pulled you close. 
“You're okay?” You whisper into her ear. Though you had not hit her on your slide tackle, you wanted to make sure nothing happened, especially after all the scares with her knee lately. 
“Yeah, all good. Don't worry, love.” She reassured you. As you stepped out of her hug, you decided to press your luck. 
“What about that nutmeg, eh?” The frustrated look made its way onto her face. You barely missed the way her eyes darkened as she started turning around, but you caught it just before she said, “Just wait until we get home.”
Viv's comment had you frozen in place. The way her eyes darkened and her voice dropped, had your mind spinning, and you couldn’t wait until she would be home again. 
Leah walked up to you and swung her arm around your shoulder. “Are you going to come home to an angry Viv tomorrow?.” You have to hold back a smirk as you tell her, “Something like that.”
The next day you hear the front door to your shared home open, and you eagerly get up, not having been able to get Viv’s words out of your mind since she spoke them at the stadium. 
The moment she laid her eyes on you, she dropped her bags and coat to the floor. “Bedroom, now.” 
Your girlfriend was usually the sweetness herself, and definitely more on the soft loving part of the spectrum. With sex she let you take the lead most of the time, but you knew that tonight was not going to be one of those nights. 
“Strip for me and get on the bed.” Your heart started beating faster at the commands she was giving you. This side of your girlfriend was one you didn’t see often, so you listened to her commands, wanting to enjoy every moment of this.
It was honestly ridicules how wet the simple gestures had gotten you already. You knew that as you were undressing that she would notice, but at this point there really was nothing you could do about it anymore.
You felt her eyes on you with every item of clothing that you took off, the look in her eyes was hungry. The air filled with lust and anticipation, as she made her way over to you. 
“So wet baby, I haven’t even touched you yet.” Her eyes bore into yours, a smirk playing at her lips, knowing how worked up her single sentence from yesterday had made you. 
“Please love, I need you.” She got onto the bed after she had gotten undressed as well, and finally connected your lips. The kiss was rough, but full of passion. That was one thing about Vivanne, no matter how frustrated she was about a situation, her actions would always come from passion. 
The room filled with moans and goans as Viv was pumping her stap into you. She was close to giving you your fourth orgasm of the night, having truly taken full control this evening. 
“Come one love, you can give me one more. One for each time you blocked me from scoring.” You were too far gone to even comprehend what she was getting at. The only thought on your mind was the immense pleasure that Viv was giving you. Your fifth orgasm of the night was fastly approaching, a few more thrusts from your girlfriend, and she had you falling over the edge again. 
After she let you ride out your high, she collapsed into your arms. “I love you.” She whispers into your ear as she pulls out slowly. “Hmm, I love you too.” She peppered soft kisses all over your blissed out face, switching right back to the soft Vivianne Miedema. You lay in each other’s arms, enjoying the moment together after having missed each other for weeks, and knowing that no matter the competition on the field, your love for each other would always be more important than football.
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𝐀 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐬
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*vision bored doesn't describe readers' looks it describes the vibes of the story*
Pairing: dark!stalker!Joel Miller x fem!reader
Summary: Life takes a sinister turn once you begin renovations on your old, eerie house. Strange occurrences start piling up—like missing security camera footage and mysterious messages from an unknown stalker. The tension really amps up when you stumble upon red roses, serving as a chilling reminder of the stalker's presence and danger. Despite trying to brush off the threats, the situation escalates when the stalker directly reaches out to you, leaving you fearing for your life and bracing for a potential confrontation.
IMPORTANT: This fic is based on haunting/hunting Adeline i do not claim or own any characters from the series I only used it as inspiration, all the credit to H.D Carlton for being an amazing inspiration and writer.
Warnings/tags: MDNI 18+, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, stalking, breaking and entering, bondage (rope and tape), groping, grinding, fear, non/dub-con, rope burns, toxic people, degradation, praise, feet kink? (maybe kind of), pussy eating, fingering, spit, biting, clit biting, breeding kink, kissing, protected sex wrap it before you tap it, kids. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION, YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME
WC: 6.5k
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Small things, it all started small. Ever since renovations started on the house, life has gotten strange. The old dark house didn't help much, but it was cheap to buy such a run-down place when you originally got it. It's worth more now that you've fixed up parts of it, but you still feel like it's dark once those cobweb-covered walls are watching you like you're something to be hunted, or like you're in a horror movie and aren't noticing the obvious hints of a killer.
And you weren't entirely sure you weren't avoiding a killer with how many small changes you saw around the house. Glasses were left on the counter, seemingly freshly poured, even if you didn't remember pouring any. Your nice scotch bottle had less fluid in it every time you checked it, yet whenever you wanted to check the cameras your friend Daphne suggested you put up for your safety, there was missing footage from certain hours of the day even during the night, whatever or whoever was doing these things was smart and calculated with every move. You don't even feel safe showering, Over a month of weird stuff, no face no answers just fear
The more you tried to be rational about how you couldn't have a stalker, the weirder things got. Like he wanted you to know he was there. You started picking up on little changes, the stuff you initially brushed off as maybe just your mind playing tricks on you. But then it became crystal clear when you kept finding those red roses laid out for you, no thorns in sight. Every time a red rose without thorns appeared, it felt sinister. You'd thought how considerate it was of the stalker to avoid using the thorns, but it felt more like a taunt like the person responsible wanted to remind you of their presence with every rose and to show you that they could easily hurt you, but chose not to.
Tonight wasn't any different. You came home from some grocery shopping to see three red roses sitting on your kitchen counter, trimmed and tied together. You groaned and put down the bags of groceries before tossing the roses completely, trying not to pay it any mind. You'd done that the past five times, hoping giving him no attention would make him go away. Your phone buzzed, interrupting your unpacking. You read the text message, and a chill ran down your spine when you realized it was from an unknown number.
Unknown: Do you not like roses?
You saw the message and dropped your phone, immediately scrambling to find something to defend yourself with. You ran to the knife block, grabbing a large, semi-sharp knife. You could worry about the melting ice cream tomorrow, not when your life was at stake. A stalker's murder attempt was imminent, and you weren't going down without a fight. Your phone buzzed again, indicating a new message from your stalker. Your muscles tensed as you carefully picked up your phone to check the message, feeling a sense of dread wash over you when you read it.
Unknown: I see you're taking precautions. But trust me, violence won't solve anything. Let's have a civilized conversation, shall we?
The audacity of the message sent shivers down your spine. How could this person be so calm, so composed, while installing such terror in your life? The thought of engaging in conversation with them made your skin crawl, but you knew ignoring them wasn't an option either.
You took a deep breath, trying to gather your courage. You replied with the knife still in hand, determined to stand your ground.
You: I don't want to talk. Leave me alone.
The response was almost immediate.
Unknown: Ignoring won't make me disappear. You can't escape me.
Your heart pounded in your chest, and the gravity of the situation intensified. The stalker's persistence was chilling, and you knew you needed to involve the authorities. As you dialed 911, another message flashed on your screen.
Unknown: Calling for help? It won't make a difference. I'm always one step ahead.
Fear tightened its grip on you, but you continued with the call, silently praying that law enforcement could indeed intervene in this sinister game. As you spoke with the emergency operator, your stalker's messages continued to flood in.
Unknown: You can't hide forever. I'll be watching, waiting.
Each message felt like a dagger, cutting through your sense of security. The operator assured you that help was on the way, but that didn't stop the ominous texts.
Unknown: The sirens won't save you.
The final message came through, short and ominous, making you block the number.
Unknown: Tick-tock.
You waited almost the whole night, but no one came. The silence was deafening, making you doubt that your stalker would make a move on you. Perhaps your fear has gotten the better of you, making you panic unnecessarily. Either way, you couldn't shake the feeling that danger was just around the corner, leaving you a bit on edge.
As days turned into weeks, the quiet dragged on, and you started second-guessing yourself. The fear kind of faded, replaced by this sort of 'what now?' feeling. A whole week passed, and you didn't spot a single red rose anywhere. The absence of any signs from your stalker had lulled you into a false sense of security, the fear becoming a distant memory. The red roses that once haunted your thoughts had blurred into the background, and life had cautiously resumed a semblance of normalcy.
Just when you thought the nightmare had ended, he resurfaced. On an ordinary day, as you hesitated at the threshold of your home, a cold shiver ran down your spine and you saw something on the ground. You squinted at it for a moment before realizing what it was; a few red roses, perfectly trimmed and tied together with string. Your phone buzzed. You gasped, your heart racing as you realized that the rose had to be from your stalker.
Unknown: "A week is a long time to go without hearing from me, don't you think?”
Your fear grew as you considered possible reasons for your stalker's sudden absence. They'd been relentless with the red roses until now, constantly reminding you of their presence through the ominous messages tied to them. So why would they wait an entire week before finally breaking the silence? Was it a psychological game meant to make you believe you were safe long enough to let your guard down? Perhaps they'd been watching your house, waiting for a good opportunity to strike. Your mind was reeling with possibilities, yet the uncertainty only added to your mounting anxiety.
You quickly walked inside the house and blocked that number as well, not bothering to bring in the roses. You left them on your doormat to rot, as you had no desire to let the flowers remain in your home. Soon after, you heard a buzzing sound coming from your phone and instinctively answered.
"Hello," you said, hoping to hear a familiar voice on the other end. There was no reply for a second. Then suddenly, a deep, gravelly voice infused with a Southern twang unexpectedly responded, sending shivers down your spine. You froze for a moment, pondering the uncanny timing of the call. What gave it away wasn't just the voice, but the chilling familiarity of the situation. The sudden appearance of the roses, the ominous messages, and now this call from "Daphne 💕" at the most unsettling moment – it all clicked into place. It couldn't be a random coincidence. Your gut twisted with certainty; it had to be the stalker, cunningly using the guise of your friend's name to unnerve you further.
The voice spoke again, "I missed our little game, I'm glad you blocked my last number, as it made our game much more interesting," the voice taunted, sending shivers coursing down your spine.
"Why are you doing this? Is Daphne okay?" You shouted into the phone, your thoughts running wild with a million questions and concerns. The stalker's laughter sent chills down your spine and increased your frustration. "Why would I hurt Daphne if you're the one I want?" the stalker laughed again as if your worry was a joke to them. It seemed clear that the stalker had little to no compassion for your best friend's safety.
You desperately needed a way to get to the point, so you chose not to waste any more time. "If you're after me, then why are you pretending to be my best friend? Wouldn't it be easier to just text me with your number?”
"Well, that doesn't seem to work. You've blocked every number I've tried," the stalker replied, their tone oozing with smugness. It dawned on you that they'd been meticulously keeping track of every number you blocked, instead of simply moving on like a normal person would.
"Touche," you responded evenly, sensing the stalker's growing frustration as you stood your ground. Their voice took on a darker edge as they acknowledged your resistance. "Blocking my numbers isn't cutting it. Looks like we need to switch up the game," they declared, sending a chill down your spine. You couldn't shake the feeling that their next move would be far more sinister than merely sending flowers.
"So, what do you propose we do now that blocking your numbers isn't working?" you asked calmly. The stalker laughed, a menacing sound that only added to the tension between the two of you. "I have a few ideas," the stalker replied, their tone of voice hinting at something sinister. "Let's hear them," you replied, keeping your tone of voice as calm as possible to disguise the fear growing inside of you. The stalker paused for a moment before speaking, as if they were plotting their next move.
You walked into your kitchen and grabbed a knife like you did a week prior. The stalker's dismissive response sent a chill down your spine. "And a flimsy kitchen knife is a solution... sweetpea, those knives in that block of yours aren't as sharp as you think," the stalker responded, making you look around nervously. The stalker had made it clear that they could see you, which raised several new questions. How much could they see? Could they see you right now? Were they hiding nearby?
"Like that would deter me. In my hands, this knife can and will kill you," you spoke with false confidence as you walked to your bedroom. The stalker's dismissive attitude frustrated you, and you were tired of being the one who was afraid. You wanted to gain the upper hand in this situation, and you were prepared to do whatever it took to protect yourself.
You grabbed your desk chair and a pillow before taking a seat with the phone and knife still in hand. The stalker responded in a mocking tone, "Oh, what are you going to do with that knife? Stab me through the phone?" They were challenging you, and you were determined to prove that you weren't as afraid as they thought. You were determined not to let them get under your skin and decided to respond with your mocking tone. "Maybe I will," you replied, deciding to match their confidence.
"No need for hypotheticals… you smell good by the way," he responded, so casually it made you gasp audibly as you suddenly imagined how close he was. "No need to get all fussy," the stalker continued, their tone of voice a mixture of amusement and malice. The thought of the stalker's presence just inches away from you made you hot and uncomfortable in a way you hadn't felt before.
You shut the blinds in your bedroom and frantically rummaged through your closet, stabbing at clothes out of sheer terror. Opting to take a seat, you vowed not to sleep until the psycho lurking in your house was either gone or dealt with permanently. The idea of him being in such proximity sent waves of unease rippling through your body. Uncertain of his capabilities, paranoia set in, making you hyper-aware of every subtle sound or movement. It felt like only a matter of time before you'd hear him drawing closer.
The night felt like it stretched on forever, filled with nothing but anxiety and dread. You must've checked the locks on every door and window a dozen times, feeling more paranoid with each click. Even going around, peeping through the blinds and peeking under the bed, making sure nothing was lurking in the shadows before finally settling down in your desk chair for the night. You could barely stop yourself from jumping at every little sound. Around 1 am, you started to feel tired but kept yourself awake for as long as you could. However, your exhaustion soon caught up to you, and you began to yawn constantly, fighting against the urge to fall asleep.
It was 1:30 am when you decided you couldn't take it anymore. You were thirsty and tired, and the three-day-old water bottle on your nightstand didn't sound too appealing. You grabbed the knife as you made your way down the stairs, trying to stay alert while simultaneously fighting the exhaustion that was starting to take over. You finally reached the kitchen and took a deep breath, grateful for the chance to stretch your legs. You poured yourself a glass of water and gulped it down quickly as you thought of the long night you still had ahead of you.
You can feel the exhaustion slowly taking over as your eyes start to feel heavy, and the surroundings turn hazy. You can feel yourself starting to lose control as the exhaustion takes over, and it becomes harder and harder to stay alert. You feel as if you're caught in a fog, losing touch with reality more and more as time goes on.
You stumble into your room, your vision getting blurrier by the second. Exhaustion has you barely standing. Darkness starts to take over, swallowing everything up as your surroundings turn fuzzy. It feels like you're losing control, like a heavy blanket pulling you down. A fog surrounds you, making everything dark. As darkness closes in, you can feel yourself slipping away, struggling to stay upright as your vision fades to black.
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You jolted awake as something rough brushed against your wrist. Your surroundings rushed back into focus as the exhaustion subsided a bit. You tried to see what had touched your wrist, only to find your hands tied securely to the headboard with rough, coarse rope. After the initial shock wore off, you started to feel the tension in your wrists as the ropes began to dig into the skin.
Your room was dark, illuminated only by the moonlight flooding in from your window. The blinds and window were now open, letting in a cool breeze. You looked around in a panic, and that's when you saw him. The contractor you hired 2 months ago to help with house renovations stood menacingly in the moonlight, his large frame and pepper-sprinkled hair glinting in the moonlight. His appearance made you feel a wave of fear and suspicion, which was only furthered as he stepped forward into the light.
You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat as you realized he had covered your mouth with tape. Panic surged within you, questions swirling in your mind like a tempest. Why was this happening? Why are you? What was the significance of the roses? And the most pressing question: How did he get into your house?
His presence loomed over you, a sinister silhouette against the moonlit backdrop. Every detail seemed amplified in the dimness—the way his eyes bore into yours, the rough texture of the tape against your skin, the faint rustle of fabric as he shifted closer. Fear pulsed through your veins, a relentless drumbeat drowning out all other thoughts.
You struggled against the bindings, the coarse rope biting into your wrists as you attempted to break free. But his gaze held you captive, a silent reminder of your vulnerability. During the chaos, a desperate longing for answers consumed you, driving you to seek clarity in the shadows that enveloped you both.
As the stalker's words filled the dimly lit room, they carried a weight of uncertainty. "I just want to keep you safe," he said, his voice oddly calm, though it sent shivers down your spine. Despite his calm demeanor, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something off about his intentions.
"I gave you those roses because they mean something to me," he explained, his tone determined yet unsettling, the twang of his accent adding an eerie quality to his words. His explanations felt like pieces of a puzzle you couldn't quite solve, leaving you with more questions than answers.
His justifications for his actions only added to the confusion. "Breakin' in, you see, it was necessary," he continued, his explanation sounding more like a feeble excuse. You couldn't help but wonder what drove him to such extremes, what twisted logic fueled his intrusive behavior.
With each passing moment, the lines between concern and obsession blurred further, leaving you to navigate the murky waters of his intentions. As he spoke of protection and affection in that Southern accent, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to his story than he let on.
"Now," he murmured, his voice taking on an eerie calmness, "I'm going to remove the tape from your mouth. I suggest you cooperate." His tone held a chilling finality, a warning wrapped in false benevolence. "Behave, and we won't have any problems."
As the words escaped his lips, a twisted narrative unfolded, stirring a disturbing sense of familiarity within you. Despite the fear gnawing at your core, there was an unsettling draw towards him, as if his words carried a hidden allure.
His voice, soft yet commanding, stirred conflicting emotions within your mind. Memories of your first encounter flickered like distant flames, igniting a spark of attraction amidst the chaos of fear and confusion.
His eyes, once unsettling, now seemed to hint at vulnerability, reflecting a mirror to your uncertainties. His determination to protect you, though shrouded in ambiguity, blurred the lines between reality and manipulation, leaving you to wonder at his true intentions.
Amidst the turmoil, a nagging sense of unease whispered warnings of danger, urging caution in the face of the unknown. The chill that ran down your spine couldn't be dismissed, as his calm demeanor masked the darkness lurking beneath the surface.
As he reached to remove the tape from your mouth, a fleeting thought crossed your mind, betraying the depths of your confusion. Despite the fear and uncertainty, an undeniable attraction lingered towards this enigmatic figure, the same one who had once breathed life into the walls of your home.
Trapped and bound, vulnerability heightened with each passing moment. The stalker's unsettling words hung in the air as he approached, his eyes now a mix of intensity and what seemed like genuine concern. The tape on your mouth held back the words you longed to shout in defiance.
As the tape peeled away, a shiver coursed through you, a mix of fear and inexplicable attraction. The dim room bore witness to the conflicting dance of emotions, a macabre waltz where danger intertwined with a bizarre sense of connection.
His fingers brushed against your skin as the tape came off, sending a jolt through you. "I suggest you behave," he murmured, his words dripping with a possessive edge that made your skin crawl. Tension thickened in the air as his touch lingered, tracing an unsettling path along your bound wrists.
His actions became increasingly invasive as he leaned closer, his eyes piercing into yours with a sinister intent. "I'll behave if you stop this madness," you retorted, your voice quivering with defiance and desperation. The stalker's eyes narrowed, a sinister smile playing at the corners of his lips.
"Ah, but this ain't madness, my dear," he drawled in a Southern twang, his voice dripping with unsettling calmness. "This is love, a love that you'll come to understand in time."
The words sent a chill down your spine, but you refused to let him see your fear. "Love doesn't involve tying someone up against their will," you shot back, determination lacing your words.
His laughter echoed in the darkness, a hollow sound that sent shivers down your spine. "Oh, but my love, you'll see," he said, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. "You'll come to realize that everything I do, I do for you."
Your heart raced as you struggled against your bindings, the stalker's presence suffocating in its intensity. "Let me go," you pleaded, your voice betraying the fear you fought so hard to hide.
But the stalker only leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear, his Southern twang adding an eerie quality to his words. "I'll let you go when you understand," he whispered, his words a haunting promise of things to come. "Until then, we're playing a game, you and I, a game of cat and mouse."
Your pulse quickened at his words, the sinister game unfolding in the darkness. "I don't want to play your game," you countered, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and defiance.
"But you've already joined, my dear," the stalker replied, his tone chillingly matter-of-fact, his Southern twang accentuating the unsettling atmosphere. "And you'll find that I'm quite skilled at it."
His words loomed in the air, casting a weighty tension that embraced the room. Each of his calculated moves and carefully chosen words served the purpose of unsettling your equilibrium.
"I won't let you win," you declared, rallying every ounce of courage within.
The stalker's grin widened, a predatory gleam sparking in his eyes. "Oh, but that's what makes it so exhilarating," he whispered, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "The chase, the uncertainty. It's what keeps us alive."
A hard swallow marked the acknowledgment of your grim reality. Trapped within the twisted game he orchestrated, you recognized the stakes were high. Refusing to play the role of a pawn in his deranged scheme, you vowed to escape, regardless of the price.
As the tension simmered between you, the air crackled with an unsettling energy. The stalker's gaze bore into yours, a magnetic pull tainted with danger and an underlying primal essence.
"I won't be a pawn in your sick game," you spat, your voice trembling with a blend of fear and defiance, yet underscored by an undeniable undercurrent of something more.
The stalker's smirk deepened, a trace of amusement flickering in his eyes. "Oh, but my dear, you already are," he purred, his voice low and seductive. "And soon enough, you'll come to relish every twist and turn."
He reached for the blanket and slowly pulled it down, revealing the t-shirt you had worn earlier. The cool breeze in the room caused your nipples to harden. "What are you doing?" you panicked, attempting to move away, but the rope still tightly bound your arms and ankles. "I said behave." Gosh, you wished you could put a name to the face; it had been so long since you'd talked to your contractor that you'd completely forgotten his name.
He removed the blanket completely, walking to the end of your bed where your ankles were tied. You felt a sense of relief when you saw him start untying your ankles. "If you do something stupid, there will be consequences," he finished untying your ankles and kissed your feet softly.
The change in move had you taken by surprise. You didn't know what to expect next, but you were suddenly aware that you were in a very vulnerable position. He planted his hands on your hips and pinned you down on the bed, his strength overwhelming. You were completely at his mercy, and you could feel the heat of his breath on your neck. A shiver ran through your body as you realized how easily he could overpower you if he wanted to.
Your body goes into survival mode, and you fight against his hold with all the strength you can muster. But it's useless. He's too big. Too heavy. Too imposing. He moves to straddle you, pinning your legs between his screams with frustration, attempting to buck him off. He laughs at the attempt, the rich sound of his amusement sending a chill down your spine,” Shh..just relax sweet pea I won't hurt you” he gently brushes some stray hairs out of my face.
"Get off me!" You shouted, kicking your feet up and down, but there was no budge in his position. He grabbed your face forcefully, drawing it closer to his own, and you could smell the mixture of liquor and mint on his breath as he spoke with a threatening tone. "Keep pissing me off, I dare you."
A panic starts to come over you, sweat starts to drip down your hair like a pulsing sensation starts to pulse between your legs, “the stalker whispered with a sickening grin. As he lifted your t-shirt, exposing some of the skin on your stomach, you felt his breath on your ear, and a shiver ran down your spine. Your body was reacting to his touch in a way that filled you with shame.
His rough calloused hands started exploring higher, slowly but surely making their way over your stomach and up towards your chest lifting your t-shirt more and more with each movement. You felt the soft touches against your skin, his fingers slowly tracing up your body, creating a sense of danger and excitement. You were frightened, and your mind went into panic mode. "What's your name? Is it Josh or Jake?" the words came spilling out suddenly as you wanted to distract him from what his hands were doing.
The stalker was caught off guard by your sudden question, and the change in your tone pulled him out of his trance for a moment. He chuckled, as his fingers continued to explore your body. "My name is not Josh or Jake," he whispered. "My name is much more interesting than that." He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin as his fingers continued to trail up toward your chest. He started to knead your breasts softly.
"My name is Joel, and I'm shocked that you don't remember," Joel said with a sadistic smirk. He sat up, allowing your legs to move freely, and you immediately rolled around to cover your exposed skin. It didn't matter whether you got rope burns on your wrists or not, as long as he wasn't able to touch you intimately. Your body was still tingling from his earlier touches, and no matter how much you tried to ignore it, the sensations were still there. 
"Maybe I should make you remember it for next time." Joel's voice had a harsher tone to it as he spoke, and there was a hint of anger in his eyes as he watched you roll around to cover up the exposed skin. Maybe he was angry that you didn't remember him, or maybe he was angry because you seemed to be resisting his advances. The reason didn't matter. What mattered was that he looked pissed.
He walked back over to your ankles and started to tug on your pants making them come off in one swift motion before grabbing one of your legs and lifting it roughly kissing your ankle and lower calf you tried to kick your legs but to no avail, it was like it didn't affect him it was kinda hot, what no? Get it together he's your stalker
You were left helpless in your t-shirt and panties scared and unsure of what to say or do as you're body was betraying your brain my pause in thinking gave him enough time to discard your panties and put them into his jeans pocket…You glanced over him swiftly, taking in his broad, fit physique, which seemed to defy his age. He carried a presence that suggested he might even be older than your father if not the same age. what had felt like 15 seconds had been long enough for him to pin your knees down to your bed
If you tried to buck and get away you would only shove your pussy closer to his face, you had an intense pink blush on your cheeks at the action he was so quick and seamless unlike any male you'd ever been with you stiffen the moonlight barely allows you to see him making you angrier feeling even more exposed to him.
He starts to kiss your upper thigh making you gasp at his actions as he slowly makes his way closer to your mound he teases you knowing that your body is betraying you as your legs shake suddenly the closer he gets to your core. He took his time kissing both your legs and even your lower stomach every so often as he switched. 
“The only sounds I want to hear out of you are praise, my name, or your moans'' he placed a kiss directly onto your clit making you arch your back in pleasure causing your hips to lift off the bed. “You smell and taste like candy” he gripped your hips and roughly brought your hips back down onto the bed “Now stay still and let me enjoy my food” 
Joel didn't hold back he kept his hands on your knees keeping your spread and ready for whatever he wanted to do to you, he didn't hold back in his movements his tongue lapped up every juice your body produced like it was the best thing he'd ever tasted you bite your lip trying not to give him and satisfaction of knowing the pleasure he was giving you. You were grateful your hands were bound if not you weren't sure you could hold off on running and tugging your hands through his hair.
You feel and smell your arousal your body is shaking and you're struggling to stay quiet he knows it and isn't making it any easier as he starts to change his technique he uses his teeth to bite your clit softly allowing his tongue to attack no mercy his movements calculated as he listened to the sweet sounds of your moans started to escape.
He pulled away making you whimper before changing the position he sat on her knees before pulling your ass off the bed and pushing your legs so they were at the side of your head he spit on your pussy before using his hand to spread the spit around your pussy making the surface even wetter. “You're not behaving you're holding back” he pauses and puts two fingers into your pussy pumping in and out slowly making your eyes roll to the back of your head and moan softly…fucking heaven. “See how much better it feels when you don't hold anything in?” he taunted you as he began to curl his fingers hitting that one spot that made you see stars.
You moaned feeling on edge you tugged on the ropes holding your hands hostage you wanted to touch him so badly. He began to bite on your clit just enough to give you pleasure but not enough to hurt. He brought the hand that wasn't fingering you so deep you were seeing stars up to your breasts moving your stupid t-shirt out the way to pinch and kneed the smooth skin.
You couldn't take it anymore. Your orgasm was coming faster than ever your moans were not contained. You were grateful for the seclusion of the woods that surround your house. It probably sounded like a murder was taking place with how loud your moans were getting.
Joel knew you were close as well. He stopped kneading your breast and used his free hand to hold one of your legs down as they began to shake rapidly, he added another finger and made his motions faster. You couldn't take it anymore you screamed out “OH GOD JOEL!!!” you started to shake as he continued to finger you and hold your legs open he moved away from your pussy to get more leverage to hold down your shaking body “JOEL…stop.., it's too much” you gasped and started to cry at the overstimulation he was giving you. 
Then he finally let go, letting your legs down. Your vision was blurry from your tears. Joel stood up at the end of your bed. The sun was beginning to rise, giving you a better look at him. God, he was just as hot as the first day you met him. “I hope you don't think we're done so soon?” he joked you were shocked for a man his age he's lasting longer than you thought possible, the started to undress himself revealing his chest he was even broader without a shirt he had a small belly but bellow it was a large raging cock it had to be as thick as a soda can and longer than any dick you'd seen in real life it was majestic .” cat got your tongue?” he climbed on top of you and met your lips with a sloppy kiss.
You both began to make out like horny teenagers. You could taste your arousal on his tongue. He ran his hands through your hair and down your body he pulled back for a second before ripping your t-shirt in half “Hey!” you protested, “it kept getting in the way of what I wanted” he started to kiss down your neck leaving bruises as he moved along your neck and collar bone. You groaned in frustration as you couldn't touch him, your wrists were becoming raw and red with pain. He noticed and kissed your wrists but didn't untie them, making you squirm to try and loosen the ropes. Joel grabbed your face roughly "When you misbehave, you don't always get what you want," Joel said, using a more stern tone. "Now be good and stop squirming around like a child who didn't get what they wanted." he let go of your face and started to stroke his cock.
He put his hand in front of your mouth “Spit” You spit into his hand and watched as he used your spit as lube for him to stroke his dick, he spread your legs open again he pushed your knees back close to your head but not far enough for your ass to be off the bed but enough to give him a good view of your pussy glistening in the morning light.
He rubbed the head of his cock up and down your folds causing you to gasp nervously for what was to come, he slowly started to insert his dick into you screaming at him and moved your hips away as he tried to insert the tip “Ah!” you kick at him “stop it doesn't fit” you plead with him for him to stop or maybe stretch you more. “Aww poor baby never had a real cock have you” he inserted the tip of his dick filling causing you to arch your back slightly you rapidly shake your head no to answer his questions “Words” his voice sounds cold and dominant as he pulls you by your hips onto his dick
It's so deep you feel it in your throat you can't help but moan out at the feeling so painful but so pleasurable “Now…” he pulls out almost completely before slamming back in “Have you never been with a real man like me?” He continues to apply slow deep thrusts as he talks to you making your eyes roll to the back of your head “god I can barely fit” he eggs you on as he begins to use his thumb to rub your clit adding just enough pressure to have you moaning out for more.
“Please…more I want more” you beg as your hips start to meet his thrusts. He begins to pump into you faster grabbing onto your hips and roughly digging your hips into the mattress as he thrusts harder and faster into you the pain has completely faded and all you feel is pure euphoria as he fucks you.
You haven't been able to stop moaning and you quickly get embarrassed as a loud shriek leaves your mouth as he hits that spot again you'd never had anyone fuck you like this you don't feel pleasure for a moment he's made you feel good over and over listened to your body and understood how a women's pleasure works. “Joel…please” You didn't Even know what you were begging for, you just longed for more for anything he was willing to give you.
“Do you wanna cum?” he taunts biting your shoulder as he continued thrusting into you, you were lying if you said you didn't want to come you wanted so too so bad and he knew it he was experienced he could tell by the way your pussy was pulsing, your breath became sloppy, the way your toes curled he knew he just wanted you to say it. “Answer me or I won't let you cum at all” he growled, applying pressure to your clit using his thumb “Yes yes god yes please make me cum” Your back arched and you moved your body into him as much as you could.
You're juices dripped down your thighs a set of continuous moans fall out your mouth “You're gonna cum with me sweet pea fill you with all my baby’s” he groans and pulls your thighs into his arms so your legs are flat against his chest allowing you to feel him in your spine the sound of the bed squeaking fills the room as his thrusts became more erratic “ready?” he groans deeply and rubs your clit faster and faster until your vision suddenly went fuzzy as your orgasm washed over one another. You felt his sticky cum flood into your pussy. The feeling was so warm it felt like it would never stop cumming thank god for IUDs. 
Joel didn't let go of your legs, instead, he pushed into you making sure as much of his cum as possible would stay inside of you, he leaned down into you making your legs right next to your ears he leaned in for a passionate kiss before pulling out of you.
A dead silence reigned over the room the morning sun shined through your bedroom window as the smell of sex overwhelmed your senses, after a few moments Joel undid the rope that had your hands tied to the headboard your wrists were red and bruised from rubbing against the rope so hard, Joel put his clothes back on as you lay in bed staring at the ceiling finally releasing what you just did you fucked your stalker and liked it?
Your thoughts raced as Joel came back into view, the last person you wanted to see at that moment. "My real number..." he muttered, tossing a business card in your direction. You glanced over the card.
‘Miller Brothers Contracting and Co….’
He hesitated at your bedroom door before exiting the room entirely.
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d-targaryenshoe · 4 months
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Muddy Games - Anthony Bridgerton
Word Count: 1728
Summary: Anthony Bridgerton and a game of Pall Mall, without winning it's never good enough it is.
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As the sunlight met your skin, you felt the heat radiate from the So huge window shining into your bedroom, or perhaps it may been the warmth that radiated from your husband's body who still sounded pretty much asleep next to you. 
Staring at the ceiling, a smile appeared on your face. It may have been happiness even though adoration was also still a valuable option.
You pulled the covers from your body as you carefully took hold of Anthony's hand, trying to pull yourself from under his grip meanwhile, but the Lord was smarter than you knew.
"Dearest, it's almost half of the day, we must go downstairs to the family." You chuckled, feeling Anthony's arm tighten around your waist before he pulled you closer once more. "Anthony, we've arrived last night, we didn't even see them."
"We still have enough time to conversate with them, they'd understand me if I desired to lock myself in here with my newly wedded wife." He answered, placing his lips on your neck.
"They would, hm?" Running a hand through his brown hair, you smiled while raising an eyebrow at the man. "We really should sr-tart of this da-"
"Anthony? Y/n?" A young female's voice was sounded on the other side of your door after a knock was heard. "YOU MUST MAKE HASTE." 
Anthony sighed to himself, rubbing his forehead before getting up out of bed and opening the door for a small crack. hiding his uncovered body behind the door, meeting Eloise's eyes. "Sister? Nice to see you on this delightful morning, is it not?"
"No, it is not." She answered.
"The sun is shining to its greatest?"
"Sun? Ah, very hot, too hot." She fanned herself with her hand.
Eloise grinned sarcastically at her brother, giving him a toothy smile, trying to peek into the room but no one could do as Anthony positioned his hand on the doorframe. "Do you need assistance with anything, El?
"No, just hastening the two of you up with whatever you're accomplishing, everyone's downstairs, we're almost beginning a Pall Mall game." Eloise shrugged, before loudly speaking up. "DAPHNE WOULD LOVE TO SEE Y/N AGAIN AFTER SUCH A LONG TRAVEL." 
Anthony squinted at the younger girl, shaking his head before she waved him off and walked away, knowing how much of a strong connection you had with the other Bridgerton sister.
Anthony closed the door, walked back into the room, and started to relay Eloise's message, but you interrupted him with a chuckle. "I heard everything, dearest. Let's not keep your family waiting." 
You leaned in and gave him a quick kiss before getting out of bed to get dressed. Anthony smiled at you, grateful for your understanding nature, and started to get ready as well. 
"Thank you for the concern, but I'm ready to face them. We'll handle it together." You replied with a smile as you walked down the staircase, holding hands. 
As you stepped outside, the first thing you saw was the family waiting on the grass field. They were all smiling and waving, and you could feel the love and warmth radiating from them. 
Despite the overwhelming feeling of being surrounded by so many people, you knew that you were very much ready to be a part of this family.
Eloise was standing next to Violet, who immediately embraced you and welcomed you to the family. 
"Oh, brother, I must say, you and the clothes on your body are a much more pleasant sight." Eloise smiled, but the smile quickly faded as she saw the look Colin gave her.
"Eloise, that's enough. Let's not embarrass the newlyweds," Violet said, giving her daughter a stern look. 
"I'll think of a number and the person to guess it, picks first?" Colin suggested.
"What? I do not accept. The oldest should pick first, Colin." Benedict snapped.
"The oldest? The youngest, much rather!" Eloise
"I just got married, I should be choosing." Anthony urged.
"Why am I afraid that this is how every Pall Mall game goes?" You asked Daphne as she chuckled. "Because it is, is it not?"
Daphne catches your eye and nods her head. "Very much so, excuse me for a moment."
"All of you, almost starting a contest on who shall pick first, when the only person who has not said one thing, is your wife, Anthony, maybe she is the one to pick first?" Daphne gave her brother a stern look, hearing Eloise laughing quietly.
As Anthony clears his throat, he agrees with Daphne's suggestion that you should be the one to pick first. "Yes, that's a great idea. Dearest, why don't you pick first?" he says, giving you a warm smile. 
You nod, picking the black mallet, and noticing Anthony's expression of shock. You can't help but laugh as Benedict teases his brother about the mallet of death. 
"So it is yours?" You ask, holding out the mallet towards him to take, but he shakes his head, kissing your temple.
"No, not at all, it's yours now." Anthony smiles.
"Is it? Because the last time I tried to do so, you almost beate-" Colin his words were stopped by the look his brother gave him. "What?"
"You exaggerate, dear brother." Anthony placed his chin on your shoulder, standing behind you and wrapping one arm around your waist. 
"I've had enough, shall I watch those two all day, or may I start this game?" Eloise sighed, swinging the mallet in her hand towards you and Anthony. "I much would like to do the second thought."
" I think we should indeed begin with the Pall Mall game, y/n, love, why don't you start? violet kindly smiled, placing her hand on yours before returning to her seat.
With a determined look on your face, you swung your mallet and successfully struck the round bowl through the high arch of iron.
"Well, well, well! It seems your mighty mallet has finally proven its worth." You teased your husband, making him place his lips on your neck, making you lean into him. 
" It was just a stroke of luck." He muttered against your neck, before releasing you and walking towards the spot to give it his best try. "Dear family, watch closely, Benedict, you indeed. I'm about to show you how it's done."
Anthony steps up to take his shot, his eyes focused on the target. He swings his mallet with confidence, but to his dismay, he misses the ball completely. His expression turns from determination to frustration.
"Well, well, Anthony. I must say, that was quite the swing!" Benedict laughed, throwing his arm around his brother's shoulder.
Anthony's face turns red with embarrassment as his siblings join in on the laughter.
"Oh Anthony, perhaps you need a bit more practice before challenging Benedict." Daphne tried to hide her smile behind her gloved hand. 
"I think I'll keep score. One point deducted for every missed shot, Anthony." Eloise adjusted the bow in her hair, smiling at the Bridgerton brother.
Anthony tries to maintain his composure, but the teasing continues to rattle him. "Enough! I'll show you all in the next round."
"Alright, here goes nothing!" Daphne sighs, taking Anthony's spot of position. Daphne takes a deep breath and focuses on the ball. With a swift motion, she strikes it with precision.
The ball hits the target dead center, causing a loud "clang" sound. 
"I did it! I did it!" She cheered, embracing you and Eloise with joy. 
"Okay, Daphne, we've heard, now it's my turn." Colin tries his best to concentrate. "Alright, here goes nothing!"
"Colin, that position? You really must work on your aim." Anthony spoke, having Eloise chuckle. "Don't chuckle, you too."
"Just you wait, Anthony. I'll get better with practice." Colin answered, striking the ball and scoring another point. 
"Everybody move, I get to try now." Benedict swings his mallet and hits the ball with a strong force, but unfortunately, it veers off course. "Damn it!"
"What happened, Benedict?" Anthony raised an eyebrow, leaning his hands on his mallet.
"It's your fault, Anthony! You distracted me!" Benedict pointed a finger at his brother. 
 "Me? How on earth did I distract you?" Anthony rolled his eyes. "It's not my fault you missed your shot."
"Okay, okay, my turn, go away," Eloise said, She hit the ball, but it flew through the air and landed in the mud. "Oh no! The ball went flying, there goes my shot!
Anthony let his eyes run over the field and remembers which direction it went. "Y/n, dearest, the ball went in that direction, care to join?"
"Of course, we must retrieve it." You smile, taking hold of your husband's hand and following him in the direction, trying not to ruin your gown.
" Look for anything round and shiny. It could be partially buried." Anthony said, doing his best not to slip away in the mud. 
Letting your eyes scan the ground they stopped at a particular point. "I see something over there! It's partially hidden under the mud."
The both of you carefully unearth the ball, covered in mud, but otherwise intact. "Thank goodness! Our family's legacy is safe."
the both of you find yourselves alone in the middle of the muddy mess. Your clothes are drenched and covered in dirt. The rain pours down, adding to the chaos.
"Well, my love, it seems we've found ourselves in quite a predicament, the desire that burns within me is too strong." Anthony softly spoke, removing the sleeve from your shoulder
"Oh, stop it, Anthony. You're just as disheveled as I am." You chuckled, as Anthony pulled your body closer to his. 
"But that's what makes this moment so perfect. No expectations, no inhibitions, just us, here in the mud." Anthony smiled at you, tightening his grip around you. 
 "Are you suggesting we make the most of this muddy situation?" You asked, removing the strand of hair that fell on his forehead.
"Absolutely, dearest, let's embrace the messiness and create a memory that will last a lifetime." You share a passionate kiss, your bodies intertwining as they revel in the spontaneity of the moment. 
The rain continues to pour, washing away your worries and leaving only their love behind. The mud still clings to your clothes, but you pay no mind.
 In this moment, nothing else matters except their love for each other.
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emsartwork · 3 months
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ALL OF DAPHNE'S TRANSFORMATIONS. INCLUDING UPDATED NYMPHIX.
Previously Fairy of the Dragon Flame now Fairy of Embers. She doesn't have any transformations others than these because she was fast tracked into the nymphix path, and unlike the winx the majority of fairies don't pursue additional transformations past enchantix. (i think Daphne would be interested in Dreamix tho, so maybe I'll draw that eventually.
Her major color shifted after dying and being revived, which is shown in her winx and enchantix.
other lore and design notes below!
I changed her major color from orange/yellow to more of a teal/green because. she just doesn't look good in yellow I'm sorry I really tried but it wasn't working. Also little updates to her hair color, nothing huge tho. Daphne's primary motifs are a branching "Y" shape and a double oval/tear drop. She's a pants when possible girlie and a one set winger(yes her nymphix looks like it have multiple wings but they all merge into one stem on each side) . Her scars from her Sirenix being ripped out of her caused her winx/enchantix to change a little to cover them(mostly seen in the arms) due to insecurity. Her Dryadix/nymphix flower is a daffodil! because pun Daph-Daff, and Daffodils symbolize rebirth and new beginnings (also creativity, energy, resilience, forgiveness and vitality). Her Harpix wings aren't super specificly patterned, but she has darting wings common in small song and seed birds (robins, finches, brown birds etc.) the coloring is referential of a Shrike (also called a Butcher Bird), because Daphne was. incredibly dangerous and if she had sided with the ancestral probably would have been given a moniker similar to Butcher of Domino or Daphne the Slaughterer. (some people do call her these but its mostly among people who dislike Domino/The Royal Family.)
Lore! Daphne doesn't have a great sense of self, she was planned as a necessary successor to Marion/the dragon flame in a period as the ancestral witches were escalating their attacks and search for the dragon flame. Bloom was a back up baby in case both Daphne and Marion got dead and basically worked as intended haha. Daphne was also much more publicly involved in the kingdom than many of the other royals in winx (Stella, Aisha, Krystal and even Galatea to an extent all had rather sheltered upbringings) in a way Daphne is much more like Sky and Thoren in the since that none of them really had the space to develop their own personality outside of their familial duty.
Daphne's 1st winx and enchantixes are as direct a copy of her mom's Enchantix as you can get with transformations, right down to the more greenish tint of her major color. Growing up Marion used her fairy form liberally, so that, combined with being the next Dragon Flame holder left a deep impact on Daphne's subconscious. Daphne was also heavily influenced by Faragonda during her Alfea and Nymphix Quest years, but since she was older this isn't as deep an influence. After being revived, Daphne's years of defining herself as her connection to Bloom causes her major color to shift more blue in response to her trauma. Daphne is slowly starting to develop a sense of self outside of her titles/connections but it's unlikely her major color will shift again unless she has another major trauma.
(for the record the Winx do have trauma over the timeline I have laid out that would potentially cause their major colors to shift but I didn't do that for a couple reasons 1, their colors are iconic and make them easily recognizable as characters; 2, I'm a tired bitch. )
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hopefullyababe · 2 years
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hey. adhd bitches. what does it feel like to be adhd. im asking. for a friend who is wondering whether they are.
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igotanidea · 21 days
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Just right: Anthony Bridgerton x reader
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part 1 to too much
part 2 : not enough
part 3 : almost there
part 4: Stuck
A/N: I am NOT sorry for all the possible spellings and punctuation mistakes there. It's been almost 2 months since "Stuck" and I am FREAKING OUT posting this while crying because it's over. Enjoy and thank you <3
Warnings: end of series, 4082 words (!!)
***
He felt like a fool.
Reverting to his old ways instead of showing all the emotions coursing through his veins.
Turning around and walking away, leaving her alone, when all he wanted was to fall to her knees and beg for forgiveness.
But how would the viscount Bridgerton look, while doing so, observed by all the ton, including the two biggest gossipers in the person of lady Featherington and lady Danburry?
Seemed like whatever he would choose to do, he would end up being a dolt.
“Anthony!”
He didn’t even flinch hearing someone calling him, nor recognize the voice. Too stubborn to stop he only continued his marching pace, hoping for the love of god that whoever dared to try and approach him in this furibund mood would get discouraged.
Not very gentlemanly of him.
“Anthony!”
He quickened his pace.
“Anthony Bridgerton!”
“What?” he almost spat spinning around on his heel, leaving a dent in the ground, taking on his most stern expression. If his obvious ignorance of the caller was not a deterrent perhaps the frown and fiery eyes would.
Supposedly it might have worked on anyone else, but soon enough Anthony transformed from the head of a family and the viscount into a little child, upon noticing that it was his mother, exhorting him to the halt.
“Mother…” he muttered looking at the ground, having only confirmed his previous theory of his role in this entire disarray.
“Let us take a walk.” Violet smiled brightly taking her eldest’s arm and imposing a walking rather than soldierly pace. “What did you Anthony?” the gentle expression never left her face even when she was scoffing her unmanageable child.
“Why would you think it was me that--?” the viscount took the last resort to protect his own pride, but the tightening grip on his forearm betrayed the fact that Violet knew the entire backstory, behind the marital disagreement.
“I raised you. I daresay it gives me enough knowledge to not answer your question. “
“If you let me –"
“Don’t, Anthony. Y/N has been nothing less but charming since the beginning.. "
"That's the way to describe her--" the man muttered
"Strong-willed and persuasive, surely, you wouldn’t take anything but, but charming nonetheless. So do tell me so we could remedy the damage before it arises further.”
“Shall you mistake me for Daphne and ask about my feelings—”
“Anthony Bridgerton!”
“I am a man, mother. A head of the family.”
“Clearly said head has been missing guidance in the right direction.”
“Mother!”
“Do not raise your voice on me son.”
“Apologies…”
“Good.” Violet beamed serenely “Do you think me so little knowledgeable to ask your emotions? I do not. I’m merely asking for facts, which you clearly have such a strong inclination to.”
Anthony mumbled something once more.
“do you wish you lose your wife, viscount?”
“What?” such possibility never crossed his mind. Y/N’s anger, her hurt, pain and merciless avoidance – yes. Abandonment and lack of her presence nearby? No. She would never… She could never. Lord above, who was she thinking she was? A woman married into a noble family wanting to cause a scandal by resenting her husband?
And once again, while his heart should have been shattered and humble enough to clarify the turmoil, the sudden blood rush turned into clenched fists and ire. All because he could not bare the thought of losing her for good, however hiding behind all the negativity was easier. It was something he was used to for years.
Nevertheless it was impossible to deny the facts further. It was her influence that caused the improbable openness in his soul was the exact same reason of his spirit bleeding.
And he needed her back.
Each minute without her was a minute lost. A minute less in the so very limited time they were given as a miracle on earth.
“What do I do?” he raised gaze at his mother, now truly looking like a lost man. Man in love, who was probably not the most romantic and gentle one with words, but still deeply infatuated with the woman who gave her whole life to him.
“Do not fret my dear. We shall alleviate the situation immediately.”
***
Y/N’s feelings were beyond anything possible to describe with words.
There she was, with her feet rooted to the ground, wishing for – and willing to accept – apologies but met with the harsh reality of the stone wall of Anthony’s behavior.
Accompanied by Eloise, smirking like the know-it-all she was, and Benedict with the compassion written all over his face.
Presumably, shall they not be there, the young lady viscountess Bridgerton would abandon all the pretenses of a woman of her position and begun blubbering in the middle of the promenade. However, the most mischievous of Bridgerton siblings acted with wit and sense, involving their dear sister-in-law in a challenging conversation, capably hauling her away from prying eyes and gossipmongers, preventing any possible rumors about incongruousness.
***
For unmistakable reasons she was not in the mood to see their ludicrous older brother and with the sudden disappearance of Violet, Benedict and Eloise took the privilege to invite Y/N back to the Bridgerton’s family house and extend the invitation for indefinite period of time. After all, Anthony might have been the head of the family as he proudly announced to anyone who was willing to disobey his wished and/or not listen, but Benedict was the oldest bachelor of the house and was more than willing to make a few decisions of his own to finally be seen as something more than merely second son and waiting for his time. 
***
Violet returned home few hours later and accepted the presence of her daughter-in-law with a mysterious smile and not a single word of objection. As amazing and uplifting as such approach might have been, it was also highly surprising. Viscountess Bridgerton was well known for her mitigating skills and tendency to scotch conflicts almost immediately, especially in her own family.
And it raised a lot of questions and secrets that Y/N and Eloise tried to uncover spending the night in the former’s bedchambers, talking for hours, creating conspiracy theories and preparing for whatever may have been coming.
Cause the fact that Violet was going to help her oldest son in winning back his wife’s attention was more than conspicuous.
Only that Y/N, who was forgiving and accepting at the begging was slowly turning cold at the fact that her husband could not simply apologize but rather resorted to some intricate ways of regaining her favor.
After a year of marriage, should he not know her enough for independent ideas and not seek his mother's avail?
***
First thing happening in the very early morning, was Y/N’s most trusted servant humbly asking for her lady’s time, which was bizarre and – as any other family may have deemed – inadequate and even shaming.
Moreover, any other house would quickly discard the commoner showing at the mighty's doorstep but Bridgertons were prone to discarding rules in private and with those who earned their trust. Be it servants or nobles. And Y/N was no exception to the rule, welcoming her maid with a smile upon seeing the person from her own household.
“My lady.” The girl bowed so low, she almost touched the floor with her nose.
“My dear Laura, please stand up, there is really no need for that-“ Y/N grabbed her hands and forced the girl up. “I assure you that-“
“But Lady Violet and Miss Bridgerton –“
“I assure you that they do not expect you to kiss the ground they walk on.” Y/n almost laughed at Laura’s discombobulation. Poor one was doing everything in her power to not make her lady embarrassed and act like a good and obedient servant, almost expecting Violet or Eloise to be cruel and judgmental.
“Dear Y/N, did you give your helpers the idea that we are some sort of tyrants?” Violet send her daughter-in-law a honest smile, which immediately got Laura’s reaction in the form of blushing.
“Lady Bridgerton I apologies if my appearance is the dishonor on-”
She didn’t even finish the sentence, met with Y/N, Violet’s and Eloise’s laugh and a polite look from more balanced Francesca sitting on the chaise longue.
“Do not fret, my girl, we are more than happy to welcome you in our household.”
“Tha-thank you my lady…”
‘Now I assume you came to talk to your lady, so we shall give you some privacy. Come girls, make haste for the matter to cover is of utmost delicacy.”
“And how shall you know it mamma?” Hyacinth almost twitched her ears, not really understanding much of why Y/N was with them rather than with Antony, but curious as a young girl could be.
“Precisely mamma, how shall you know?” Eloise, immediately picked up her sister’s question, only not so susceptible to extenuations.
“Eloise Bridgerton, I shall expect you to practice the bowing before your incoming debut in front of the queen. Daphne made quite an impression and –“
“Daphne was deemed diamond of the season and such title is below my ambition.”
“Regardless, you do not want to trip or slip do you?”
Eloise (and everyone else) obviously remembered what happened to Featherington’s sisters and the embarrassment so with a heavy, exaggerated sigh and one quick, sharp, bright look at Y/N Eloise left the room, followed by her mother and sisters.
And once the lady and her trusted eyes and ears of the house were alone, who could stop the two of turning a lot more unmindful of societal norms?
“My lady, the lord has been quite annoyed since the quarrel you lordships have had. He even refused to eat his favorite meal.” Laura confessed with blushing cheeks
“Are you to tell me that Prescott prepared the roasted pork for Anthony after he was so unjust towards the lady of the house? I shall have a word about a loyalty with him upon my return.” Y/N satirized wholeheartedly.
“When shall you return my lady? Seeing as that viscount is not the one to have a change of heart and admit his wrongdoing easily?”
“He will Laura. One way or another I am fairly convinced my husband may take a long way to do so and take the aid of his mother whilst deciding. It’s just I am not fully convinced if the apology made with cheating are worth accepting.”
“Oh! You took the lower route here my lady forgive the audacity.”
“Just the route of a woman who expect honesty from her man.”
“Fair enough I suppose. But shall you be agitated my lady I take it you do not wish to accept the viscount bestowment?”
“Bestowment?” Y/N frowned a little in confusion “and what shall that be?”
“I do not know, my lady. I am merely a messenger—”
“I believed you to be on my side Laura.”
“And I am, my lady! But one do not object the command of the lord, that is clearly ready to vent his anger on the first soul that happen to be unfortunate enough to be around.”
“My god, you are a prattler!” Y/N laughed “where is that gift in question? Cause since it is mine either way we might as well get a little curious, shall we? Would be such a shame to put it to waste.”
Laura stood up from her chair and started heading to the corridor, but Hyacynth was first to barge into the room carrying some parcel that was almost bigger than her.
“Y/N! Is this that gift from Anthony!?” clearly she was eavesdropping  “Can we take a look, please? It’s so big I wonder what it is? Come on, open it up! Open it up!”
“Curiosity killed the cat.” Eloise muttered but there was no denying she was equally curious as her sister.
Y/N only rolled  her eyes, inviting all the girls over and opening the box. Fishing out the most beautiful and definitely expensive new dress. The color was perfectly matching Y/N’s complexion and the material delicate yet durable – Anthony knew his wife and her adventurous tendencies.
“It’s so beautiful and elegant” Francesca whispered touching the dress with delight.
“So what, he think he can just buy her the garment and she will forgive him?” Eloise scoffed “Men are so simple minded and belittling of women!”
“Try it on, Y/N!” Hyacinth encouraged, almost jumping from excitement
“Do not try it on! This would be relenting!” Eloise objected.
“He made a gesture!”
“It’s not a gesture! It’s an attempt of buying her forgiveness!”
“Y/N!”
“Y/N?!”
“Quiet!” Y/N finally managed to break through the noise of two sisters. ““No offence girls, but this is my marriage and my decision. One I have to make by myself. So thank you “ she smiled brightly but with a hint of annoyance “for your positions on things, but I am perfectly capable of weighting the significance of the gift, on my conviction to forgive or not forgive him.”
“Uhm. My lady” Laura cleared her throat “I’d like to elaborate that the viscount also made an invitation to one special place….”
“Do not go Y/N!”
“Stop interfering Eloise! Y/N you have to go!”
“For heaven’s sake, Violet is truly a saint for surviving you two!” “Uhm. My lady” Laura cleared her throat “I’d like to elaborate that the viscount also made an invitation to one special place….”
“Do not go Y/N!”
“Stop interfering Eloise! Y/N you have to go!”
“For heaven’s sake, Violet is truly a saint for surviving you two!”
***
Anthony was waiting for her in the garden outside some estate she had no idea existed. After all, Y/N has spent her entire life in London, rarely being invited to the cottage. And in this case it could have been used a leverage, not that he was aiming for measuring forces and cold calculation.
No.
He was walking back and forth, almost trampling a path in the ground in a place where it should never be. Nervous enough to anxiously fiddle with his fingers like a lady before her debut entering the society. Hoping she would come. Wishing for any entity in heaven might want to listen that she would take this dress he send her as an expression of humility rather than boosting like a rooster. Praying that Eloise wasn’t there with her sharp tongue and unrestrained thoughts to discourage his beloved from accepting both the gift and the invitation.
The minutes turned to hours and even his father’s pocket watch refused to work with Anthony in this important moment. Having no regard to the poor flowers any other plants standing no chances against his heavy riding boots, the time seemed to stand still.
For whatever it was worth it, Anthony Bridgerton swore to himself that he would rather turn into a sack of boned waiting in this desolate place than walk away while there was still a glimmer of hope she might appear. He was done and fatigued with missed opportunities, poorly chosen and ill-spoken words.
It was never his intention to said all those atrocious words to her.
Too much.
Dear Lord.
Now that he was thinking about it, his heart was capering in a way that filled him with self-hatred. After all the pain he might have caused her during that little hurtful exchange while she did nothing more than be there for him. Even if he not exactly wished for it. Even if he himself didn’t know that her presence in his life was the best thing that happened since his father’s death. If not since forever.
Anthony wasn’t the one to believe in signs or any spiritual influence on earth, but the more he was dwelling on his own misery, the more deliberative of their first meeting he was becoming.
It was late lord Bridgerton’s death anniversary and as any other year – he separated himself from the rest of the family. To show how adamant his heart and mind was and to underline that this was nothing more than just another day in a line of any other similar ones. But the truth was, he wanted to visit his father’s grave alone without any possible disturbances or havoc that his younger siblings could have caused. None of them really knew Edmund Bridgerton the way Anothony did. The first born son, the heir to the title, deprived of his father’s guidance and presence and forced to take responsibility for the family in way too young age.
He needed to be by himself, cause god forbid anyone seeing him showing any signs of humanity and indulging in grief.
And his family knew and accepted it.
She didn’t.
Just a stranger, strolling by herself in the area, looking like a commoner, having no regards to the sanctity of the moment nor the place she found herself in.
And worse for her – spotting Anthony in the never-seen moment of vulnerability written all over his face.
“Lord Bridgerton” she bowed in a way that showed that the savage, Anthony took her for, actually had manners. And that he knew him, but this was not so unexpected.
He only grunted in response to annoyed by an unfortunate set of circumstances that worked against her. The viscount himself was not going to bow to a girl that was clearly a servant, with messy hair and in a dress that was far from anything a woman, even of lower position should be seen in.
“Don’t you have anywhere else to be, girl?” he muttered under his nose, throwing daggers with his eyes.
“I’m sorry my lord but-“
“You should be sorry. I am convinced your lady nor your lord will be pleased with the fact that their service wanders alone in an area that does not belong to them!”
“Service?” Y/N smirked looking at him with amusement and twinkling eyes. And Anthony with his youthful energy and virility could not miss the fact that she was actually pretty.
“Yes, service.” He hissed at her “now get out of here girl, before you get yourself in far more trouble from me and end up on the street!”
“I shall-“ she obviously was not going to let anyone maltreat her like that, but her acuity wore up that very moment. She noticed the weariness in viscount’s eyes, noticed the monument nearby, and realized what day of the month it was.
“Forgive me, my lord.” She bowed in respect “I shall be on my way. And I shall not mention this meeting to anyone, hopefully wishing for you to forget my impertinence.”
She was gone as fast as she appeared, and Anthony thought to never see her again.
Until the next rout Daphne was attending, where he actually did.
Immediately realizing the scope of his previous mistake, upon learning that the service girl was in fact Miss Y/L/N, the youngest daughter of Lord Y/L/N. And met with another look of those glistening eyes and amused face expression. Forced to accompany her for the evening, since apparently Lady Bridgerton and Lady Y/L/N has made some arrangements for the future.
He was thinking it was all just a coincidence back then, but now he came to conclusion that it must have been his father who send this girl into his life. Knowing better than him that she would turn his ways around, challenge him, test him patience mercilessly and yet – that she would be the one to love him unconditionally and whom he would love with all his broken and unperfect self.
And the burden of possibility of ruining it all for them was even more overwhelming.
He clasped his hands behind his back, walking shorter and shorter distances, turning back more and more often, stuck in his belief that he would stay here as long as she didn't show up, even if -
“Anthony.”
Viscount spun around so abruptly it almost caused him falling to the ground.
She came.
She truly came.
It was like meeting her all over again, back in time, back next to his father’s grave.
Only she wasn’t looking like a servant girl now.
She was wearing the dress he sent her, looking not only like a viscountess, but like a queen herself. His queen. His wife. His love. His everything.
Her skin was radiant due to the color of the material (just like Violet predicted), cheeks flushed, hair done in perfect curls surrounding her face, bright like a sun.
“Y/N….”
“It was so unwise on your part viscount to call upon me and invite me into a wild place a woman like me should never step foot on.” She said sternly, but the everlasting and never changing glistening of her eyes betrayed her true intention “and perilous, may I say? Far from the city? Lady travelling alone? So many hazards awaiting me on the way.”
“Benedict and Colin were following your post chaise.”
“Oh I knew I heard someone laughing on the way. But my coachman brushed my concerns off!”
“Did you really believed I would send my greatest treasure into the wild without proper security?” Anthony took a few steps forwards, reaching for her hands and placing gentle kiss on her knuckles.
“Your brothers?” Y/N let him show the courtesy, but raised eyes in skepticism of the words.
“Believe me my lady, you should never underestimate the man of the Bridgerton house.”
“In what aspect my lord?”
“In every aspect, dear.” He looked deep into her eyes.
“Why did you ask me to meet you here?” Y/N quickly averted her eyes, because Anthony’s gaze were so full of passion, love and genuine remorse and apology she found herself falling into his charms. And this couldn’t have been so easy for him. “You sister discounselled me on coming here.”
“And yet, you came my lady.” Anthony reached for her chin and slowly, gently and with tenderness turned her face towards him so that their eyes had to meet again.
“Anthony I –“
“My love, I am sorry.”
“this is not—”
“Let me speak” he hushed her, not breaking eye contact. “I asked you here, because this is the very place where my father asked for my mother’s hand. Where he pledged her his undying love, support and loyalty. And you, out of all people in the world, learned how much I cherish my father’s memory and his legacy.
“Anthony-“
“Therefore, here I am. Standing in front of you, expressing my deepest condolences-“
“Oh, dear lord, Tony!” she cried out in frustration “stop using the words you would say to me if Lady Whistledown were nearby! Tell me how you feel!”
How he felt was not with words.
How he felt was expressed by the way he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to his chest, capturing her lips in the searing but gentle kiss that conveyed more than any noble and dignified words of a lord could.
I love you.
By his strong arms encompassing her like a shelter from the storm.
I won’t ever let go of you.
By tender caress of her hair and back.
I will always cherish you.
By the way his lips were moving against her, whispering silent words understood only by two souls forevermore yearning for each other.
I am sorry.
She was the first one to pull back for air, reluctantly so.
“My love. My beloved.”
She smiled at him, connecting their foreheads, allowing his arms to tighten around her waist and waiting for what was coming next to assess the truth behind his words.
“Am I too much now?” she whispered
“You are always too much. To much for me to keep. To much for me to even wish and pray for. Too much of a blessing in my life. Too much in the best possible sense and—”
This time It was her who cut him off by a kiss, silencing anything else that might come from his lips. He was honest and sincere. And if he was trying to apologize by saying anything else and backing out on what he said back there she probably would not forgive him sensing manipulation. But this?
“I forgive you.” She whispered against his lips.
“Thank God.”
“Is this cottage inhabited or--?”
“No. It’s not. And I intend on taking advantage of it right this moment.” He grabbed her and carried inside bridal style, ready to not get back to London for at least a couple days.
(spoiler alert below)
I got a request for a fluff pregnancy fic.... <3
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dragon-kazansky · 5 days
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Bridgerton shade of blue
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Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader
Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.
{Masterlist}
{Previous Chapter} - {Season Two}
Season one
Chapter Seventeen - End of the season
♡♡♡
The duke and duchess were holding the last ball of the season. It was going to be a grand event to be certain. The whole ton would be there.
You were wearing your last gown made for the season. It was beautiful. A shade of green. It had little jewels sewn into it, so it would sparkle while you danced.
You looked forward to seeing Thomas.
Though you had not secured an engagement within the time of the season, you hoped that you may continue to correspond with Thomas while he was in the country, and perhaps go see him at his family estate, that he may ask.
Your mother would be so proud.
Your maid did your hair and helped the jewellery. It was going to be a spectacular season finale. You could feel it in your bones.
Hastings House was beautiful.
You walked with your mother around the fountain to the main entrance. The ball was to be held in a small courtyard in the middle of the house. Daphne had done a splendid job.
There was a painting of the duke and duchess on display. Painted bt Henry Granville. It was beautifully done.
You stand off to the side while your mother chats with guests. You watch people waltz.
Violet arrives with Eloise. Daphne goes to talk to her sister.
You keep your eyes peeled for any sign of Thomas.
The next to come through the door are the Featheringtons. You cannot deny your relief at seeing Penelope again. Granted, she is wearing yellow, but she is here.
One dance ends, and the next dance begins.
You take a stroll about the ball. Thomas has yet to arrive, it seems. You smile at Penelope as you pass her. She smiles back, too, seemingly surprised you had paid her any attention. People usually don't.
You see Colin parting ways with Benedict across the room. Your eyes follow the second eldest Bridgerton as he walks.
He hasn't noticed you.
Maybe that's for the best...
No.
No. He is your friend and you want to talk to him. You are about to make your way across the room when a servant comes up to you with a note on his tray. You look at him confused.
"For you, ma'am."
You look at the note and pick it up. The servant leaves, and you unfold the paper. The handwriting belongs to Thomas.
I must apologise. I am to leave for York immediately. I shall not be at the Hastings ball. Do have fun on my behalf.
- T. Hardy
You stare at the note in silence. He's not coming at all. He must have left earlier in the day. Perhaps in a rush. You had been at the Bridgertons that afternoon, so if he called the house, you wouldn't have seen him.
If he had called to the house, the butler would have told you, or even your mother. He did not call... So he must have been in a rush.
You sigh. You fold the note back up and leave it on a tray of a passing waiter. They can dispose of it for you.
Glancing up, you find two blue eyes gazing at you. Benedict has seen you. Now you're definitely going to go talk to him. You make your way across the courtyard and come to stand beside Benedict.
"Hello."
"Hello," he replies softly.
Silence fills the space between you, and you turn to the dancers to occupy yourself, and to keep from looking at him again.
"Is Lord Hardy not with you?" Benedict couldn't help asking. He was surprised to see you standing alone tonight.
"No. He left London already. Back to York."
Benedict is even further surprised by the information. He thought Hardy would stay until the very end. He believed the man to be falling for you.
"I see."
You look down and try to keep yourself in check. "I thought maybe I had finally found someone. Someone who perhaps desried me, but it seems I was wrong."
Benedict keeps quiet.
"I wasn't enough for anyone this season. I tried, and I failed. Doesn't matter, I suppose. Next year might be different."
"You didn't fail."
You look up at Benedict. "I didn't secure a proposal or even managed to keep a man interested enough to at least say goodbye before he left."
"You might see him again," he says.
"Somehow, I feel not."
Benedict feels for you. You have been nothing but glorious and wonderful and yourself all year round. You wiggled yourself into the lives of his family and became a pleasant consistent in their lives. You encouraged his passions and made him feel a little more like himself.
"You didn't fail," he says again.
You look up at him and crack a smile. "Next year then."
He nods.
The music changes and the floor is cleared. You notice the duke and duchess approach each other. You knew something had happened between them, but didn't know what. Yet, here they were about to dance for the ton.
You smile at Daphne as dances with her husband. They look like such a handsome couple. You envy them. You envy what they have.
The way they look at each other. How close he holds her to him.
Love.
It is so rare. It's so rare that very few people ever get to feel it for real. You want it. You want to know what it feels like to have, well, a soulmate. The one person made just for you. To love and to hold. To cherish. To share every moment with.
Benedict shifts hisngaze from his sister to look at you. He can see the way you watch Daphne and Simon dance.
Benedict's had fun. He played around. Tested the waters. But looking at you right here and right now makes him rethink everything.
Genevieve has certainly been fun. Yet, if you were going to try again for your own sake next year, perhaps he should, too. You, who inspired his art. Inspired him to try harder and practise more.
Perhaps next season, you will both benefit and grow more as people.
As the waltz continues, the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance brings you to look up at the sky. The heavens open and rain pours. You gasp softly as the cool droplets hit your skin.
Benedict instinctively reaches out for you and guides you under the canopy toward the house. You look up at him and then turn back to the ball. Everyone else does the same, seeking shelter from the rain.
Everyone but Daphne.
Simon is holding her hand as if he was guiding her to shelter, but Daphne stops him from doing so. She closes her eyes and lifts her face to the sky, letting the rain fall.
She looks beautiful.
Lady Danbury stops anyone else from going out into the rain. "Everyone... I believe this evening is complete. We shall thank our gracious hosts for such a splendid soiree in the morning. Now, go. Out."
Everyone begins to leave.
Benedict slips his hand into yours and guides you out. You look up at him quietly.
Daphne and Simon have some talking to do.
Benedict guides you through the house and outside to the carriage. It's still raining. His hair sticks to his head and you giggle.
"What?"
"Nothing..." You smile.
He gives you a boyish grin. He helps you into the carriage and stands around in the doorway.
"Will I see you tomorrow?" He asks.
"You leave for the country tomorrow."
"Are you not also?"
"Me and Mama are to stay in London. We don't have a country house to go to in the summer."
Benedict didn't know that. "Did your father not own an estate?"
"We had to sell it when he died. He left us with a great deal of dept."
He realises in that moment how much he doesn't know about you. You're so much more complicated than he originally thought.
Your mother clears her throat and Benedict moves to let her into the carriage.
"See you soon, I hope?" He looks at you.
"I'll write."
He nods and watches the footman close the door. He steps back as the carriage leaves, and Benedict finds himself a little lonely.
♡♡♡
When you rise the next morning, you have no idea of anything that happened within the Featherington house. Lord Featherington died. He was killed.
Penelope spent much of the morning in tears. Elosie had gone to visit her.
Marina went with Sir Philip Crane. The brother of her deceased love who never made it back home. She was to marry him. At least she could have her child and be looked after.
You had decided to go to the Bridgerton house before they all left. It was the least you could do for Benedict and his family. They had all seemed pleased to see you when you arrived, and that made you feel warm inside.
Colin was leaving for Greece. Another reason for Penelope to be upset. Colin was going to be so far away travelling the world.
You waved him off as he rode away on his horse. Benedict had his arm locked with yours.
As the rest of the family headed inside, you struck up conversation with Daphne, Simon, and Anthony. While the duke and duchess are staying in London a little longer, it would seem Anthony intends to find a Viscountess.
That leaves all of you stunned.
Though he follows it up by saying he will keep love out of it to keep things simple. Daphne frowns at that. As do you.
"Perhaps he will learn," she says.
"Perhaps not," you reply.
Eloise hurries over to her brother, who is about to climb onto a horse. You had already said farewell to him.
"Give my regards to Madame Delacroix." She says to Benedict.
"Your regards will have to wait, El," he responds. "She is making a short trip to France."
"Oh? Not going to say goodbye to her?" Eloise asks.
"I did. Last night, if you must know."
Benedict had gone to see her after he bid you goodnight. He went to say goodbye. After seeing you at the ball last night, he decided to change his mind on a few things.
Granted, the goodbye was a long one. He spent a couple of hours at the shop, but nothing untoward happened.
"You said goodbye to her?"
"After Daphne's ball, yes." Benedict then mentioned he spent most of the ball with you.
Eloise worked out that if Madame Delacroix had been at the shop all night. That couldn't have been her in the carriage when Eloise went to protect Whistledown.
Eloise headed back inside.
"Are you coming?" Benedict calls.
You turn and see him on his horse. "Me?"
"Yes, you." He chuckles.
"Where?"
"One last ride around the square before me and my family leave for the summer." He offers.
You smile and look up at him. "I'm not dressed for riding.
"No matter. He offers you his hand."
"Benedict... we cannot create a scandal at the very end of the season."
"Why not?" He grins
"Because I said so."
He laughs.
"Very well. I'm glad you came to see us." He says.
"Me too. Have a lovely summer, Benedict."
"You too." He speaks your name softly, smiling. You both stay like that for a moment, looking at each other. The moment is broken we spurs his horse onward.
You watch him go with a smile.
You look around the square and sigh softly.
Next season was going to be different. It had to be.
♡♡♡
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obsessedwithceleste · 3 months
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The Slytherin Boys
As Soulmate Tropes
Ft. Mattheo Riddle, Theodore Nott, Draco Malfoy, and Lorenzo Berkshire
©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.
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Mattheo Riddle
The timer
Everyone has a timer on their wrist that counts down to the second you meet your soulmate
Matteo thinks it’s utter bullshit
He’s not really one to be told what to do
Especially not by something as silly as fate
Before he even begins at Hogwarts, he wraps his wrist in a leather cuff, never taking it off
A soulmate is only a weakness after all
Like his father said
When he finally makes his first friend, Theodore Nott, on the train to Hogwarts, the boy looks at his wrist curiously, but says nothing
The boy’s own timer reads something a bit over six years
He meets others, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, all displaying their timers proudly out in the open
He would never want to be that vulnerable
Of course he’s tempted to look when he sees Lorenzo Berkshire’s timer run out in first year when they’re sorted into Slytherin with Daphne Greengrass
Still he doesn’t look
Over the years he watches his friends’ timers run out as they each meet their soulmate until it’s just him and Theodore left.
“You’ve really not looked?” Theo asks him one night as they share a smoke up in the astronomy tower
Matteo shakes his head no
It’s not until a bit over a year later when Theo’s timer runs out as he quite literally runs into his soulmate that Matteo even considers taking a small peak
That night, he lay in bed, eyes boring into the ceiling
Ever so slowly, his fingers wrap around the cuff, inching it off agonizingly
When he finally sees his timer, he blinks
00:00:00
He’d missed them
His head falls back against his pillow as the leather cuff returns to its place, securely around his wrist
He’d never wanted a soulmate anyway, he reasoned with himself
What he didn’t know, was he’d also missed all the stolen glances at him since third year
He makes it through four more sleepless nights before he tears the cuff off, throwing it against the wall, alarming Theo
“I missed them. I fucking missed them.” He says, staring blankly at the wall as Theo looks at his friend sadly
About a week later, it finally goes noticed that the leather cuff is gone
Matteo is sitting in the grass by the Black Lake when they approach
“They stopped sometime in third year. You bumped into me walking off the quidditch pitch.”
Matteo looks up, mouth gaping open as he takes in his soulmate for the first time
“Sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. Figured you didn’t want to know with the whole cuff thing and all.”
It takes him a moment to reply, but once he does, he will not stop apologizing
He looks at his soulmate as if they painted the sun in the sky
It’s slow going at first, Matteo never really believed in love
But once he’s in, he’s in deep
His friends are all shocked of course, but more so relieved that Matteo finally had someone that really clicked
Matteo never wanted a soulmate, but he’d be damned if his was ever torn away from him
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Theodore Nott
First Words
The first words one said to their soulmate are permanently scrawled across their other half’s skin
No matter how much someone tried, the words wouldn’t budge
Couldn’t be removed, couldn’t be changed, couldn’t be covered by anything other than clothing
Theo knew
He’d tried
“Fuck off, Nott”
Was permanently brandished across his collarbone
His mother had gasped when she saw it, rushing to cover the words
The epitome of romance Theo had thought dryly to himself on more than one occasion
He told himself he didn’t care
Maybe there was a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why his soulmate wanted him to fuck off despite never speaking to him before
He never let another soul see those words though
Not even when his friends went around, proudly showing off their own words
He didn’t believe in that shit, he’d told them
But it was hard not to believe it in third year when Matteo finally spoke to Daphne’s sister, Astoria, for the first time
Their words matched perfectly
And so did they
In his fourth year, Matteo finally discovered the blasted words after Theo ended up in the hospital wing
He was made fun of ruthlessly for the next several weeks
Not even his soulmate- as a stranger wanted anything to do with him
Maybe that was why, at fifteen, he began his flirtatious escapades
Flirting with anything really, that had a pulse
If his soulmate didn’t want him, surely someone else did
And that’s how he found himself where he was now
Leaning up against the cold stone wall, a comfortable buzz setting in from the drink in his hand as he chatted up some Ravenclaw
He was about to lean in when a hand appeared on his shoulder, pulling him back roughly
“Fuck off, Nott.” The voice said, a hint of agitation in their voice
Theo’s head snapped in the direction of the voice, eyes widening and mind suddenly alarmingly clear
He felt his heart beat speed up as he took in the sight
A moment passes, then two
Blinking, he tried to think of something- anything to say
“Salazar, you’re perfect.”
Fuck.
Theo watched the hairs on his soulmate’s neck prickle as they freeze, eyes slowly meeting his own
“That’s not funny Nott. Who told you to say that?” They ask warily as their friend watches in amused excitement
Tugging at the collar of his shirt, Theo finally shows his words, the black script bold against his tan skin
Theo had always wanted
Theo had always wanted to be wanted
And Theo’s soulmate made sure he always knew just how wanted he was
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Draco Malfoy
Hot and Cold
Draco remembered the first time his mother explained the soulmate stuff to him
He was only five when she tucked him into bed and explained
The closer you were to your soulmate, the hotter you felt
The further you were, the colder you felt
But once you were together, everything would feel right
Simple enough his young self had figured
Almost like a game of sorts
A game of fate
He always thought it was strange that his mother was constantly shivering despite his fathers tendency to run quite warm
They must prefer it that way
He himself however, grew up always a bit too cold for his liking
It was early on that he learned to bundle up in layers
His mother cast especially nice warming charms
As he grew older, it confused Draco that his parents ran at two very opposite temperatures, despite his mother’s words echoing in the back of his head
The whole soulmate thing must not be that perfect if “just right” meant one parent felt like a block of ice while the other was practically slick with sweat
He didn’t really understand until the summer before he was to leave for Hogwarts
That’s when his parents hosted a small going away gathering
His cousin Enzo was there
As were the Greengrass sisters
Draco watched Enzo begin to grow agitated, sweat beginning to form on his brow
When the boy looked up to see the older Greengrass sister though, it was as if a wave of calm had washed over him
The heat in his cousin’s cheeks faded as he made his way over to the girl
That’s when Draco finally realized
It didn’t go unnoticed by him then, when his father’s normally warm aura cooled considerably to a suspiciously comfortable level when the Nott family arrived
It was then that Draco determined that soulmates only lead to heartbreak
What was the point of it didn’t guarantee happiness?
Draco was on the train, surrounded by his friends when he first felt it
A small spark of heat, flaring up in his chest
He ignored it
He felt it again at the sorting ceremony, quickly rushing to sit with his new house mates
For once hoping to blend in
The dungeons of the Slytherin common room felt safe
The cool air of the stone walls enveloping him
Every so often, Draco felt a familiar warmth begin to overtake him, subconsciously leading him towards it
But he always did his best to fight it off
Lately however, the tingling feeling of warmth seemed to be chasing after him
Almost as if whoever was causing it was actively searching him out
Draco was sitting in the Three Broomsticks, butter beer in hand when it finally happened
He felt the heat wave first
Then the beads of sweat slowly forming on his head
His eyes flicked about frantically as his friends watched him with concern
When his eyes finally landed on the culprit, he knew
A wave of cool ran over him and for the first time in his life, Draco wasn’t shivering against a sweater, or sweating like a mad man
He felt
Right
“Hi.” He says, dazed as he stares at his soulmate in awe
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Lorenzo Berkshire
The Red Strings of Fate
Enzo couldn’t remember a time when he couldn’t see the red strings twisting, knotting, winding around everyone he knew
They always started out the same
Tied in a neat bow around someone’s pinky before looping off into the distance
Occasionally, he’d see two people, their strings meeting, tying them together
Theirs always had a mesmerizing gold sheen
It fascinated him
His own parents’ strings trailed off in opposite directions
Not that he’d ever say anything about it
He knew there were others like him
People who could see the strings
Advertising their love matching services
Always able to tell if people were compatible or not
Enzo never said a word
At Hogwarts, Enzo often heard the Slytherin girls chatter about how romantic the idea was
Having a soulmate out there, tied to you forever
Enzo smiled, knowing that Pansy’s string was connected to one Blaise Zabini
And Astoria’s string lead to Matteo Riddle
In second year, he’d let out an unattractive snort, seeing his cousin Draco’s string connect to Hermione Granger
He’d almost let it slip right then and there
But still, he kept quiet, subtly leading his friends in the right direction
Even if it meant “accidentally” locking Draco and Hermione in the potions storeroom without their wands
It wasn’t until much later that Enzo realized he’d never really paid all that much attention to the string tied to his own finger
What if they didn’t believe in the strings?
What if they didn’t want to be found?
One night, when his dorm mates were asleep
He tugged on the red string, feeling the taunt pull on the other end
He didn’t really expect much
He’d seen people’s strings lead off over the horizon, end no where in sight
He knew it was totally plausible to never see his soulmate
But it would be nice
Sometimes at night, when his roommates were all asleep and he was still wide awake, he’d roam the halls, following the string
It always seemed to take him the same way, up the winding staircases until he found himself outside an ever familiar common room door
He wasn’t stupid
He knew his soulmate had to be in there, but still, he never searched beyond those quiet nights, the portraits on the walls looking on silently
It all changes though, the day he feels his pinky finger tug a bit as a stranger sits down next to him in potions
“You don’t mind, do you?” The breathy voice asks
Enzo is too busy staring at the string connecting their fingers, a familiar golden sheen glimmering between them, to answer
When he looks up, he finds pretty eyes looking back, a small smile tugging on pink lips
“The portraits are quite chatty you know. I wondered if you’d try to come find me, but figured it was best to take matters into my own hands.”
A soft blush rises to his cheeks as he looks sheepishly at his soulmate
“So should I lock us in a storage room without our wands now? Or can we skip that step?”
Enzo lets out bark of laughter before quickly getting a hold of himself
After years of following other people’s strings, he was glad someone had followed their string to him
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