captainsophiestark

[captainsophiestark]

one should not have favourites. But Seward is one of mine.

[captainsophiestark]

Yesssssss love to see Anthony standing up for and defending her against the Ton!!! 🙌 literally adorable, and he absolutely would 💗 also VERY fun to see them matching each other's vibes on how seriously they're taking hide and seek! Although of course Anthony might be a *little* bit more competitive 😂 such a cute vibe to see how well she meshes with the whole Bridgerton family, especially the kids!! Love this chapter!!

Anthony Bridgerton's Guide to Accidentally Falling In Love - 6

Anthony Bridgerton/Fem!Reader

Words: 2,328

Summary: Anthony Bridgerton thought it was clear that he does not intend to marry at this point, but still he is plagued by hopeful young ladies (and their mothers) who hope to change his mind. So when he meets a widowed Countess who is burdened by the ton's unkind gossip wherever she walks, the two of them realize that maybe they could be of help when it came to each other's problems.

Note: the ruse is taking shape :) this was a fun chapter to write, hope you enjoy!

Series Masterlist • Anthony Bridgerton Masterlist

Dearest Gentle Reader,  

With the social season finally starting to yield early signs of matches, courtships, and other general excitement, there are a few things on the minds of many in the ton, including the rather explosive argument that was witnessed in the hallway of the latest ball, between Lord and Lady Brenton. One would think that they would have found a better place (and time) to air their grievances at each other, especially since the event was being hosted at their residence. But given the glares that Lady Brenton was shooting her husband all throughout the night, I believe it safe to assume that this marriage is not as perfect as they had previously boasted. 

However, a decidedly more intriguing development  is that Viscount Anthony Bridgerton has indeed formed a close friendship with the widowed Countess Y/N Everleigh. They had previously been seen dancing together at Lady Danbury’s ball, but it was this author’s mistake in judging the seriousness of that interaction. In addition to their regular turns about the ballroom floor, the two have been seen promenading together at Hyde Park. It seems that the rest of the Bridgerton family has already accepted the Countess as one of their own, based on the way she was seen laughing and joking with all the present siblings, just before heading off on a walk with the Viscount. One must admit the fact that they make a rather handsome couple, no matter what one’s opinion is on the two as individuals. 

Lady Whistledown’s Society Papers

When you had mentioned he might receive more invitations to society events if they had invited you, Anthony thought he understood what that would mean. He could handle a few extra dinner parties, especially if he got to spend that time with a person that was rapidly becoming one of his closest friends. He might even see his sister more often, as Daphne and Simon were of course included on many of high society’s guest lists. 

However, what he failed to expect was the fact that he would be forced to interact with the most stuffy and boring men that the ton had to offer, and that he wouldn’t get to see you for quite as long as he would have liked. 

Like this dinner party, for example. 

“And Viscount Bridgerton, what is your opinion on Parliament’s latest rulings?” 

Not having listened to any of the words that were said in his vicinity for a lengthy amount of time, Anthony just took another sip of the drink in his hand. “I don’t have high hopes, but things could change at any time.” 

Just vague enough to make the others believe he had actually contributed an opinion, the other men laughed and carried on while Anthony’s gaze moved around the room, searching for you. 

It wasn’t long before he found success, watching you speak with Lady Danbury and a few other women, the wives and sisters of the people he was currently forced into conversation with. Well, they were speaking. You were politely nodding as the chatter moved along, but he didn’t once see you open your mouth to contribute an opinion. He had half a mind to give up on social convention and join you in listening to the ladies’ conversation, but he refrained, not wanting to cause any trouble or scandal. Your reputation had started to improve, but it was nowhere near where he envisioned it being when the two of you first struck this deal.

But it seemed that he had not been able to disguise his distracted countenance, because he heard his name once more in the conversation around him. “Bridgerton! Stop staring at the ladies, it’s impolite.” 

One of the other lords laughed. “You know, it’s just one lady he keeps looking at.”  

None of these men would ever admit to reading Lady Whistledown’s column, but they all knew what was being implied. “Good God Bridgerton, get it together!” an older, pot-bellied Baron replied. “There are a whole host of women out there if you’re looking for a wife, who are younger, more innocent than the likes of the Countess, and who wouldn’t poison you for not liking her dress.” 

Rage burned through Anthony’s stomach at those words. Of course he knew what the ton believed, but to say such brazen things at a dinner party in which you were among the guests was unimaginably cruel. “Since when have you begun spreading slander and lies, Lord Jennings?” Anthony asked, trying to keep his ire in check and his voice even. 

“People talk, Lord Bridgerton, as I’m sure you know,” another man cut in, clearly trying to salvage the conversation. 

“I am well aware of that fact,” he responded, silencing the man with a glare. “However, I was simply under the impression that the honorable and titled men of society did not participate in such trivial gossip.”

“Come off it, don’t act like you’re any better,” Lord Jennings replied. “I would have thought you’d be happy to hear the rumors around the Countess, because it takes the pressure off you to actually respond to the questions about your relationship. No respectable member of society would believe you were actually seeing someone like her.” 

It took every bit of willpower to not let his anger show more than it already had. “And if Lady Everleigh and I were to be courting?” 

Lord Jennings laughed as he shook his head. “Then I’d call you a damn fool.” 

“All of you are the ones acting like fools,” Anthony responded evenly. “My relationship with Lady Everleigh is none of your concern, and you would do well to remind yourselves that unkind rumors can be spread about anyone.”

Without another word, he turned on his heel and left, heading straight to the carriage that was thankfully still parked outside and not looking back. The whole ride home he seethed in quiet anger at the audacity of the men he had snapped at, and annoyance that he didn’t get a chance to spend a few moments to speak with you properly before leaving. 

He couldn’t help but wonder if he had done the wrong thing, and if your reputation would only further be dragged through the mud because of what he said, despite the fact that you had no idea this interaction had even taken place. 

***

Other events were infinitely more bearable, like garden parties. When Simon and Daphne hosted one at their estate, not only were you at the top of the guest list, but his entire family was invited. 

You had migrated away from the main conversations happening over fresh hors d'oeuvres, and Anthony watched as you sat down on one of the benches facing the lawn, keeping a careful eye on Hyacinth, Gregory, and a few other children as they laughed and chased each other around. And having had enough of this current topic of discussion, he decided to join you. No one at the table said anything as he got up and left, but he did catch Benedict sharing an amused glance with their mother. 

As he stepped into earshot, Anthony chucked to get your attention. “I told you these events were boring.”

”And I should have listened,” you responded, moving over on the bench so there was room for him to sit next to you. “This one is better than most though.” 

“I will make sure to tell my sister that.” 

“Please do, she is a wonderful hostess and I was honored to receive an invitation.”

Before Anthony could respond, Hyacinth stopped in her tracks and waved excitedly at the two of you. “Anthony! Y/N! We’re going to play hide and seek, would you like to join us?”  

Anthony looked over at you before responding to his sister, wanting to let you make the decision. He couldn’t help but smile when he noticed you doing the same. “We would love to!” you called out, getting up from where you stood and making your way over to them. 

“I’m going to be the seeker,” Gregory said proudly, crossing his arms as he stood on his tiptoes to seem taller. “You’ll have until I count to 30 to hide.” 

You nodded, the smile on your face giving way to a deeply focused expression, and what felt like seconds later the call to hide had been made. Taking off in a direction opposite the other children, Anthony didn’t mean to follow you, but soon the two of you were both standing at the edge of Hastings’ sprawling woods.

Upon noticing him, you grabbed his hand and pulled him along, eventually stopping when both of you were standing between two thick tree trunks. “Are you trying to get us caught?” you asked in a hushed whisper. 

“No!” he responded defensively. “We simply had the same idea when it came to looking for the best hiding place.”

You were closer to him than you had ever been before, even closer than when you had danced together. Maybe it was the fact that you were still holding his hand, but something felt different, and he would be lying if he said that he wanted you to move away. 

You huffed, clearly having already gotten into the competitive spirit. “Well the more time we spend here the easier it’s going to be for Gregory to fi-” 

At that very moment, the sound of footsteps could be heard moving through the woods, and it sounded like they were headed towards you. Not even thinking about what he had done, Anthony brought a finger up to your lips, and for a moment after he worried that you would push him away, but it seemed that you got the message about your stakes in the game. The two of you stood there with bated breath, completely still as you tried to gauge how close those footsteps were to discovering your hiding spot. 

And no, Anthony wasn’t thinking about how soft your lips felt against his skin. You were his friend, something he had no intention of changing (no matter what some members of his family seemed to think). 

Thankfully, your worry was nothing but a false alarm in this instance, and a few moments later a gleeful shout echoed through the space as Hyacinth’s hiding spot was uncovered. The two of you looked at each other with an expectant expression as Anthony pulled his hand back from your face, both expecting that your time hidden was coming to a close in the near future as both Hyacinth and Gregory were on the lookout. 

But seconds passed, and then minutes, and you couldn’t see or hear any sign of the two youngest Bridgertons. 

“Did we go too far?” you eventually asked, voice a low whisper as you tried to scan the area without revealing yourself. 

“I didn’t think so,” Anthony responded, peeking out at the small patch of trees around you. “It seems that they just… forgot to come looking for us.”

A bout of laughter escaped your mouth, and despite being quieter than usual, it was just as infectious. Smiles were soon plastered on both your faces as you realized the hilarity of the situation. “I think we should return to the party,” you eventually said. 

Anthony’s expression was severe and his question was delivered with the utmost seriousness. “Wouldn’t we technically forfeit the game?” 

“I think we would technically be the victors, since we were never discovered,” you said after thinking about the question. “And even if we don’t, I don’t mind letting your siblings win just this once. Besides, I don’t want the carriages to leave without us.”

“I am rather thirsty as well.” 

“Now that you mention it, I believe I am too.” 

The two of you walked back towards the party arm in arm, laughing when you saw Hyacinth and Gregory sitting next to Violet, the game of hide-and-seek seemingly long forgotten. “You know,” Anthony leaned in to whisper, while the two of you were still just out of the other guests’ earshot. “Disappearing like that probably helps our ruse a little.” 

“Not in a way that’s proper,” you scoffed, but he could tell you weren’t really mad. “Your mother is going to think the worst of me.”

“If anything, she’ll probably blame me,” Anthony responded, a smile spreading across his face as they finally approached his family. 

Daphne was the first to comment on the sight. “And where did the two of you disappear off to?” she asked, raising her eyebrows at her brother. 

“We were playing hide-and-seek,” he responded, as if the answer were the most obvious thing in the world. “I think that since we technically weren’t found, Lady Everleigh and I are the victors of the game. What do we win?” 

Gregory’s eyes turned towards his brother at the moment, but before he could say anything in response, Violet ended any kind of bickering before it even began. “How about the two of you just sit down and have some dessert?” 

At his mother’s suggestion, Anthony turned to where a spread was being set out. Various biscuits, cakes, and other sweet treats were still being arranged on the table, and the two of you were first in line (with the rest of the Bridgerton siblings right on your heels), waiting patiently until the staff had finished setting everything out before diving in. 

“It’s always nice to see them all so happy,” Anthony heard his mother say to Lady Danbury, a sentiment he wholeheartedly agreed with as he watched Benedict and Eloise squabble playfully over the last chocolate biscuit. You had started distributing different treats to Gregory and Hyacinth, as both of them were not quite tall enough to reach through the crowd of Bridgerton siblings to get what they wanted. 

It was moments like this that made him smile the most, and he was grateful that you fit so seamlessly into his life, no matter what the truth of your relationship was.

- end of part six -

series taglist: @maricciardo @imafangirlofeverything @allthegirlsdreamed @captainsophiestark @chrissisheadisinclouds @anxiousgoldengirl @sweatyconnoisseurstrawberry @sky0401 @fallout-girl219 @ifilwtmfc @jackierose902109 @mysticwitchcraftco @galactic3a @pedrosexual @preciousbabypeter

[captainsophiestark]

commission for anonymous!

(commissions closing soon!)

[captainsophiestark]

Do not think for a moment that this admin is only going after trans folks. They are ultimately going after the whole LGBTQ community. They start small, like getting rid of a hotline option, then go BIG.

[captainsophiestark]

Darcy’s introduction in Pride and Prejudice is really ‘what if you had just had the worst month of your life because your ex-bestie tried to lover boy scam your baby sister out of her share of your dad’s life insurance and your friend dragged you to a shitty party in a dive bar in the neighbourhood where he’d just signed a short term lease, and you decided to let your bad mood show because you were never going to see any of the assholes in this stupid shitty bar EVER again. And your friend ended up making out with a girl he’d just met there while you were stuck talking to her sister who was less cute and then her mother appeared and started trying to matchmake and started saying how if she was twenty years younger she’d clime you like a redwood and ooooh is that a black Amex, guess the next round is on you hahhahahahaha, while her other sister (how many fucking sisters does she have?!) flashed an obviously fake ID at the bar and ordered six vodka-diet red bulls and no one in her family except the less-cute sister even tried to stop her. And you went home and consoled yourself that you would never see any of these people again but then you met them over and over again because they live next door and your friend and the cute sister keep meeting up to make out but not actually date and then. You fall in love with the less-cute sister because it turns out she’s really witty and charismatic but she already knows and remembers and resents the fact that on a day when you were in a shitty mood you called her mid out loud in a dive bar.’

[captainsophiestark]

"kung pow penis," a phrase commonly used in reblogs to indicate utter disdain for OP, has twelve letters, each of which (traditionally) must be supplied by a different user. the unanimity of disdain indicated by these twelve unrelated users has strong parallels to the requirement of unanimity for a jury—also traditionally of twelve—to arrive at a verdict. in this essay i will

[captainsophiestark]

Hi, I love your art! Among the many things to ponder over in Star Wars, do you ever get sad thinking about all the crimes adventures that Padmé and R2 got up to while she was a senator pre aotc?

LOL omg yes, though maybe not all of artoo's crime/adventure ideas were to Padmé's liking...

(commission info // tip jar!)

[captainsophiestark]

sometimes i feel ive got to

[captainsophiestark]

This was SO much fun to read and super well written omg! The lines "What happened to my sweet, kind roommate?" "I beat her too." were SO funny and so so good and "Perhaps it was time to resort to cheating." had me grinning too 😂 really fun energy and banter and a really really good vibe!! 💗💗

I have a few ideas for the roomies. How about the roommates having a game night. Idk why but I can see Bradley cheating at monopoly or at least trying to cheat. Or them having a really intense Mario cart session. OR them playing the game of life and as they add people to their cars they can’t help but imagine a future with the other in it. I’m gonna stop before this gets out of control.

True story, I’ve never played monopoly in my life! I am so in love with your Mario Kart idea, I just had to write it.

Also, you’re always welcome to send any ideas or requests you have for the AU!!

And They Were Roommates

Your neighbours across the hall were probably cursing your name as you let out a triumphant laugh, almost flinging your controller in the air in celebration. Beside you, Bradley groaned in defeat, his head dropping back onto the sofa. Neither of you could remember exactly when during your Mario Kart tournament you had both moved from sitting on the sofa to sitting against it on the floor.

“How are you so good at this?” he demanded.

You grinned.

“I’m a woman of many talents, Bradshaw. Pay up.”

He glared at you.

“I’m not paying you anymore. I was lured into this challenge under the false understanding that you weren’t a Mario Kart assassin,” he grumbled, “I’ve been conned.”

You snorted.

“Boo-fucking-hoo. What you’ve been is defeated, flyboy. Easily defeated, I might add. I can’t believe they let you fly multimillion dollar planes when you can’t even stay on the road in Mario Kart.”

“There aren’t any banana skins in a dogfight,” he said loftily, “I want a rematch.”

“Do you really?” you asked, popping a piece of popcorn from the bowl that sat between you in your mouth, “You gonna be able to afford your rent this month if I beat you again?”

“You’re not gonna beat me again,” he said confidently, tossing a piece of popcorn up in the air and catching it in his mouth. He grinned at you, the kernel held between his teeth, and you rolled your eyes at him.

“You’re gross. And you’re full of shit. I hope you’re ready to get your ass handed to you again.”

“You’re really mean when we play games,” he commented as he set up another game on the TV screen, “What happened to my sweet, kind roommate?”

You bit your lip to stop yourself smiling at the knowledge that he thought of you as sweet and kind. You were not about to let your stupid crush lose you the game.

“I beat her too,” you quipped, and he let out an amused snort as the countdown to the race appeared on the screen, “Better get your wallet open now, Bradshaw.”

“In your dreams, sweetheart.”

Almost immediately, your character sped ahead of Bradley’s on the screen, and you let out the most unattractive cackle of laughter you had ever heard. Bradley watched you out of the corner of his eye, unable to stop the soft smile on his face at the way the light from the TV made your profile glow, and the way your tongue poked out from between your lips in concentration. Even the way you leaned from side to side as if you were actually driving a car at high speed was ridiculously adorable.

“Dude, you’re not even moving now!” you pointed out, giggling, “At least make an effort!”

His eyes snapped to the screen and saw that his character’s car was stuck against the edge of the track, going nowhere fast.

“Shit,” he cursed, hoping against hope that you hadn’t realised he’d been too busy staring at you to play.

Perhaps it was time to resort to cheating.

“I think I’ll use my winnings to- hey!”

Your world went black as Bradley’s hand covered your eyes, his laughter echoing from beside you as you tried blindly to keep steering whilst struggling to get away from him. Kicking out blindly, it was your turn to laugh as you heard the clatter of plastic on wood that meant you had successfully knocked his controller from his hands. His hand left your eyes and, before you could adjust to the sudden return of the light, he had grabbed your controller from you and sent it across the floor to land beside his.

A glance at the screen showed that the race was far from over, both of your characters stuck against the side of the track…right beside each other. You looked at each other in surprise, and then at your controllers a few metres away on the floor, and you both dived for them at the same time.

Bradley had the advantage of being both closer to the controllers and having longer arms than you; he managed to grab them both before you got the chance. Still, you weren’t giving up.

Grabbing his wrist, you tried to prise your controller from his grasp, but his grip was strong. He rolled onto his back to try and sit up, inadvertently dragging you on top of him with the motion, your thigh sliding between his and your face inches from his own. Above his head, you had his wrists pinned to the floor.

You both seemed to realise the compromising position you had gotten yourselves into at the same time, freezing in your battle for the controllers and staring at each other in surprise. Your lips parted with the intention of saying something to break the tension that suddenly existed between you, but the way that Bradley’s eyes flitted to your mouth had any words dying on your tongue.

“Truce?” he whispered hoarsely.

Clearing your throat, you nodded and scrambled back so that you were no longer on top of him. He sat up slowly, as if he was slightly dazed, and you found that you couldn’t meet his eyes. You hated how much your heart was racing from the moment- had it been a moment?- that had just occurred.

There weren’t many platonic explanations for your roommate staring at your lips…were there?

[captainsophiestark]

Ahhhhhh this was adorable, and so fun!!! I love the idea of Tyler having a childhood friend to go through some of this stuff with, and I love the added backstory of the original old truck!! Really really fluffy and cute, and adorably written interactions 🥰 love it!! 💗💗

Mayhaps a GN!reader who met Tyler while he was just starting out his storm chasing days. And was there, and helped, as he built up and fortified the truck?

thank you so much for the request!! i don't know if this is exactly what you pictured, but i hope you enjoy it :)

words: 1,476

summary: you and tyler have been friends forever, and the two of you spend some time tricking out his storm chasing trucks.

tyler owens masterlist

When you were kids, you had always been the voice of reason, and Tyler never tried to argue with that moniker. You had always thought that after the two of you went to college and started your adult lives that things would be different, but right now, as you stood there with your oldest friend in front of his busted looking pickup truck, you knew that he would truly never change. 

Your eyebrows were raised as you looked between him and the metal monstrosity in front of you. “You’re going to use that to chase storms?” 

“I already have, and it’s great,” he said, a huge smile on his face. 

“Are there any safety features on it?” you asked. Electing to not mention the giant hole in the front passenger floor (which has been covered up by a stolen cut up stop sign since the two of you were teenagers), you couldn’t help but worry that this wasn’t going to turn out well (for both him and the truck). 

Silence. The smile on his face faltered, and you knew when he didn’t have a quick retort that you were not going to like the answer. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about it.” 

You sighed, plans already running through your head as you considered what could be done to make that death trap of a truck a little safer. He was just lucky you had spent a few summers helping out at your family’s mechanic and body shop, and that you happened to be free this afternoon. 

The modifications were rudimentary at first, especially since neither of you had the money or the connections to get what you wanted. You managed to rig up some simple anchoring devices and attach them to the sides of the running board, but it was clear from the start that these particular supports would not last as long as you wanted them to, and might not even be able to stand up to an F5 tornado, should he come face to face with one. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Tyler said from underneath the truck when you had voiced your concerns once more, tightening the connection as you affixed sturdier racks to the roof of the cab. “I want to get a new truck down the line anyway.” 

When he rolled out from under the carriage, your eyebrows were raised. “Where are you going to find a truck that’s got the features you need? Especially if you don’t want to be a ‘stuffy suited weatherman’ like you told me?” 

Tyler laughed when you brought up the career everyone had been suggesting for him, especially because he had gone to school for meteorology.  “I want to do something more than get a desk job,” he said. “Maybe I’ll be one of those people that gets famous for storm chasing.” 

“I could see that,” you mused. He certainly had the looks and general charisma to be successful, and based on the way he’s always been able to smile his way out of any problem that crossed his path, you could see people online being enthralled with him. “You have to come up with some kind of cool name though.” 

“What about The Tornado Man?” 

“I don’t know about that one.” 

“Oh! Or Doctor Vortex?” That one, if you were being honest, sounded more like the name of a comic super villain than a storm chaser. 

Laughing, you just shook your head. “We can workshop a name for you later. Right now I want to make sure you don’t get blown away the next time you’re out in the middle of a twister.” 

***

Unsurprisingly, the decade-old truck you had spent teenage summers drinking beer under the light of the stars in did not last long when placed in the paths of tornadoes at least a few times a month. You hadn’t been there on its last ride, but you couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness when Tyler told you about it. The two of you were sitting on the couch in his living room, and pizza had already been ordered for movie night. “I’m going to miss that thing,” you said. “Even though I never wanted to be seen with it.” 

Tyler’s laughter was infectious, and soon the two of you were nothing but guffaws and giggles. “Damn,” he said. “You didn’t even ask if I was okay.” 

“I did too!” 

He smiled, and you just rolled your eyes in response, having known him long enough to be used to the jokes he made. 

“So,” you asked quietly, wondering what the response was going to be. “What are you going to use to chase now?” He had indeed been correct on his offhand statement before, that he could be someone that gets famous for all this. Now, after only six months of posting videos on YouTube, he was getting more and more recognition for his actions. The Tornado Wrangler was the name that had eventually been settled on, one that had taken an entire six pack and a rainy afternoon to come up with (and it was your idea, thank you very much). 

“I got a new truck,” he said, eyes lighting up. “And I was hoping you’d help me trick it out.” 

“I don’t know,” you said. “If the modifications we made before only lasted you a year, I wouldn’t want to ruin a brand new truck. At least the old one was so ugly looking it didn’t matter what we did to it.”

“And if we had some better gear?”

You paused before responding to him. There was a selfish little part of you that wanted him to stop this, because you had seen enough to know just how dangerous some of these storms are. But you were not going to join the cacophony of voices already voicing that opinion on a regular basis (namely, his family), so this was the second best option. You knew that this made him happy, even if you didn’t understand how anyone could ever enjoy it. If you could in some way keep him safe (or as safe as one can be in situations like that), maybe his new truck wouldn’t flip three times with the strength of a particularly strong storm (like the old one did). 

“Alright,” you said. “I’ll help.” 

The smile on his face only grew at your words. “We can start now if you’d like.” 

“Lead the way Owens,” you said, allowing  him to lead you to where the truck was parked. Secretly, you were a little more excited than you let on. 

His new truck was nice, and the movie playing inside had been long forgotten as the two of you worked. You didn’t ask where he had gotten all these cool new gadgets, and you seriously hoped that this vehicle would be able to withstand what Tyler was about to put it through. 

It was like deja vu, as once again you were standing in the bay of the pickup truck and attaching things to the sides, and Tyler was underneath the chassis. “So,” he said. “Are you gonna come chasing with me one day?” 

“I don’t know,” you called down to him. “With all your new toys, will there even be room for me?” 

“Of course, I’ll just kick Boone out and you can do all the camera work.” 

You laughed. “I don’t think he’d be okay with that.” You had recently met the people that Tyler worked with to create his YouTube videos, and you loved every single one of them (you just weren’t sure how they’d feel about you being their replacement).

“Eh, he’d be fine,” Tyler laughed. “But seriously, if you want to go chasing with me sometime, just say so. I’d hate for the person who helped me put all this together to never get to experience it in action.” 

You usually weren’t a thrill-seeker, not to the extent that he was. You weren’t usually timid either, but something about storm chasing had never really appealed to you. It was a lot more dangerous than riding a tall coaster or zip lining after all. But now, as you spent this time with Tyler working on the truck, you kind of wanted to experience it, to understand on a deeper level why he loved doing it so much. 

“Once you take it out for a test run, then maybe we can go,” you said.

“You’ve got yourself a deal.” 

Tyler smiled often; it was an expression that you were so used to seeing on him at this point that you sometimes didn’t even notice it. But right now, as he looked up at you with his legs still under the truck, you thought that this was the biggest smile he’s ever worn in his entire life, and you couldn’t help but grin just as wide.

- the end -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

[captainsophiestark]

Omggggg I loved this so much!!!! Honestly, this is one of my FAVORITE tropes, and you wrote it so well! This was absolutely FANTASTIC, and I have a goofy smile on my face from reading it!! The line "Mostly, you wish people would stop building killer robots." KILLED me lol it was so good, and "The gesture makes your brain itch. You don't know why." is SO good and such a perfect, subtle way to clearly communicate that vague familiarity, even though Clark's in Superman mode! Also the final line is LITERALLY perfect 😂🙌 I loved this so much!! I'll definitely be coming back and rereading!!!

Hey! Can I request a Clark x reader where they're dating but reader doesn't know Clark is superman. And then superman interacts with them for whatever reason and is flirty bc that's his person!!! But reader is like ☝️ hey buddy back off. I'm HAPPILY taken

this is such a cute request!!!! Argh!!!!

clark kent/superman x gn!reader. fluff, brief danger but r is okay. superman flirting with you but he's dating you? he's just a goober. i lub him <3 PLEASE feel free to imagine maws!clark. I feel like this is very himcore 🥰

****

Being a florist in Metropolis is good work. Lots of people still buy flowers, which is great. Many actually buy bouquets for Superman and leave them on display as support. Poppies, yellow tulips, and cornflowers. They're one of your favorite arrangements.

The downside to being a florist in Metropolis, however, is that on occasion, your flower display ends up the target of a killer robot.

You're not sure why that is. Mostly, you wish people would stop building killer robots.

You've gone outside to see what the commotion is about when you're grabbed by a metal claw. It squeezes hard, almost cutting off your air. You squirm in terror as the robot stomps down Main Street, crushing cars and asphalt in its wake.

"Help!" you scream when you catch your breath, and the robot squeezes you harder.

A dizzying blur of red, yellow, and blue zips past you. You think of your flowers.

The blur cuts through the metal like nothing. The robot begins to collapse, twitching and groaning. Its metal creaks, grip loosening on your body.

You hardly fall before Superman is there, cradling you to his chest.

"I've got you," he says, tucking you close.

You look up at him, and he beams at you, like saving you from a killer robot has been the best part of his day.

Come to think of it, Superman came to your aid surprisingly fast, even for him.

And he holds you... intimately. Like you've known him for years. Your heart picks up.

"Uh," he says, cheeks flushed. "Are–are you okay?"

You smile politely, arms around his neck. "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you, Superman."

He nods, flying down the street. "Good. I'll get you back to your shop and clean up the flowers."

You tilt your head. "How do you know I'm a florist?"

Superman looks at you, blue eyes wide.

"Oh! I... uh, I've seen your arrangements all over the city. They're beautiful. I'd never forget that they belong to an equally beautiful face."

Goodness. If Superman is this forward with everyone he rescues, it's no wonder your flower arrangements are in high demand.

"I'm flattered," you begin, and Superman once again aims that grin with the power of a thousand suns at you. "But, respectfully, I'm very happily taken, so I would appreciate it if you'd keep this rescue professional."

Superman raises an eyebrow. To your surprise, he smiles wider.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't realize you were taken. My sincerest apologies. I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."

"No, it's alright. I'm honored, but you couldn't pull me away from my boyfriend even with your super strength."

Superman's cheeks turn pinker. He sets you down in front of your store with the utmost care, not letting go until you have your bearings. He takes a step back, rubbing his neck. The gesture makes your brain itch. You don't know why.

"Well, uh, he must've done something right if he's lucky enough to be with you."

"Luck has nothing to do with it," you say fiercely. You don't know why you're so indignant about defending Clark's reputation to Superman. It's not like Clark will ever hear about it.

"No?"

"Not at all. He's an incredible person, kind and smart and loving, and if anyone's lucky, it's me."

Superman makes an aborted gesture to take your hand, then redirects and awkwardly pats your arm instead. You squint at him. He quickly moves away.

"Ah. Sorry. Well, I doubt that. I bet you're equally spectacular."

"Oh. Thank you."

You primly take his hand and give it a good shake. Superman bows his head and laughs.

He takes a step back, eyes bright like you've just made his day.

"Well, I wish you the best with your boyfriend. I'm sorry for being so forward. I've seen your Superman bouquets; your reputation precedes you. I make it a point to know reputed people in Metropolis."

"I can't imagine I'm very high on that list," you say.

"Ah, you'd be surprised. Besides, I never forget a face."

Superman darts behind you and moves at neckbreaking speed to clean up your partially maimed flowers. In three seconds, it's returned to its former glory.

"Well, uh, I'll be seeing you," Superman says, hands clasped behind his back. "I mean, I hope not in a circumstance like this! Th-then again, when else would we see each other? Scratch that, I hope there's no reason for us to cross paths because that would mean you're in danger. Uh, but I don't mean that in a bad way! I just—"

You snort and reach over to take a yellow tulip from your display. You give it to Superman, who takes it like you've just handed him a newborn baby.

"I'm still taken," you say. "But you're very sweet, Superman. Take care, alright?"

"Yeah," he says, tucking the tulip into the strap of his cape. "Yes, you too. Goodbye!"

He soars away, the tulip like a star on his cape.

Superman is handsome and kind, no doubt. But he's certainly no Clark Kent.

[captainsophiestark]

This was so fun and chaotic omg, I loved it!!! It felt absolutely in character to me lol, and I loved that you included poor Lemon getting caught in the middle of all this! Brief truce for Tangerine and his SO to go after Lemon, then back to their own decoration fight 😂 great vibe and a great fic!!

day #10: gingerbread house

tangerine x gn!reader, platonic!lemon x gn!reader, 825 words a/n: i don't even know what the fuck this is good luck. possibly out of character, possibly not. you be the judge, pookie.

You took the sugary icing from Tangerine, carefully lining the edge of the gingerbread roof—tongue poking out in concentration. Tangerine snorted softly at the sight, eating yet another gumdrop from the decor for your gingerbread house.

"I swear to god, if you eat another one, I'm going to break the damn house," you said, not looking up from your meticulous work. As excited as you were for this gingerbread house, you wouldn't be afraid to wreck all the hard work from the both of you.

"Oh?" Tangerine asked, wiggling his eyebrows as he grabbed a red gumdrop. "Sounds devastating, love. Whatever shall I do?"

You looked up at him, icing bag squeezed in your hands. A gob of the icing fell on the edge of the roof, souring the meticulous outline you had.

"You are being dramatic," Tangerine chided.

"Me? Dramatic? I would never," you scoffed, rolling your eyes.

He watched you closely as he put the gumdrop between his teeth, a wicked grin on his face.

"Oh, you bitch," you said. "You've done nothing but be a pain this entire time!"

"Me? Love, where's your manners? All I'm doing is helping out. What more can I do?"

You narrowed your eyes. "You know what you can do?" you asked. "You can eat my icing."

He snorted at your words. "What?"

Before he even realized what you were doing, because who in their right mind would even do this, you were pointing the piping bag of icing right at him and squeezing it. It didn't really get very far, falling from the bag and plopping down on his trousers, but it was enough for him to glare at you.

"You're fuckin' jokin', now, ain't you love? What the fuck was that?"

"Payback," you simply said. You go back to your gingerbread roof, carefully scraping the already drying icing off. You cursed under your breath. "This is gonna suck, because of you!"

"Because of me?"

"Yes, because of you, you—"

You hadn't a chance to finish before a gumdrop was launched at your face. You paused and looked up at him, wiping the sugary excess from your cheek.

"You wanna play that game?"

"Not a game, mate," he said, grabbing a handful of sprinkles. "Don't do anythin' you'll live to regret."

You quickly stand and grab a handful of sprinkles as well, ready to throw it at him, when his brother walked into the kitchen, seeing the two of you ready to launch red, white, and green sugary specs at each other.

Lemon blinked slowly seeing as the two of you had paused, glancing back at him.

"What in the hell are you two doing?" he blurted. "Fuckin' right mess, you've made. Who the fuck's gonna clean it all up?"

One glance was shared between the two of you. That's all it took for you to both throw the handfuls of sprinkles at Lemon, practically chasing him out of the kitchen, yelling about how he was not gonna be the one to clean up the fuckin' gingerbread trash house they made.

Of course, it wasn't the only bit of sprinkle thrown.

Tangerine grabbed another handful and grabbed you by the bicep, pulling you into his chest. The hand of sprinkles hovered precariously over your head.

"Don't. You. Dare."

Tangerine's eyes flashed with wicked glee. "What'll you do, Y/n? Ice me to death?"

"Tangerine, stop it!"

He let a few of the sprinkles spill from his hand and onto your head. He leaned forward and captured your lips in a kiss before he did the unthinkable—he let his hand down the front of your shirt and dropped the sprinkles from his hand.

You shrieked, and rightfully so, grabbing the icing from the table and pointing it at all, all the while sprinkles falling from the top you wore.

"You are so annoying!" you nearly yelled, squeezing the piping back so hard that it popped at the top. You began swatting him with the plastic, only to be laughed at by your assassin boyfriend.

He grabbed you by the hip, other hand grabbing your wrist that held the piping back.

"I am annoying? Who started this fuckin' thing?"

"You did!"

"I did, hm? You better watch your pretty little mouth, love," he said, eyes narrowing playfully.

You scoffed and let the piping back drop to the floor, still feeling sprinkles in your shirt. You watched him closely, slowly catching your breath.

"Why the fuck did you put them down my shirt?"

"I saw the chance, I took it," he said. "Was hopin' you would've taken it off by now," he cheekily grinned, capturing your lips with his once more.

By the kitchen entrance, Lemon passes, muttering under his breath: "Fucking gingerbread houses." Of course, it wasn't the only thing he said, but it was the only thing you heard as Tangerine pushed you against the table, ignoring the multitudes of gingerbread walls and candy decorations.

[captainsophiestark]

THIS IS SO SWEET AND FLUFFY AND AMAZING AND WELL-WRITTEN AND AHHHHHHH

I absolutely loved this premise, and I loved the way you wrote it! The whole story had such a quiet, magical kind of vibe to it, I swear I could feel the ambiance of the library. And I love a best friends to lovers!! FANTASTIC fic, and I'll definitely be coming back here for a reread 🙌💗💗💗

Between the Lines

Characters: Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: In a snow-dusted library glowing with holiday magic, you and Steve Rogers embark on a whimsical literary scavenger hunt.

Word Count: 1477 words

Prompts: Library. Best friends to lovers. Wearing their clothes.

A/N: This one is for the lovely @allofmytoxicity. I hope you like it.

The snow outside the library’s grand windows danced like powdered sugar, coating the world in a soft white blanket. Inside, the air was warm and inviting, infused with the smell of old books and a faint whiff of cinnamon from the hot cocoa cart stationed near the entrance. You sat curled up in one of the library’s oversized armchairs, the fringes of a familiar scarf wrapped snugly around your neck.

Steve’s scarf.

It was navy blue, soft, and a little too big for you, which made it perfect. He’d left it at your apartment the week before when you had an impromptu movie night, and it had been calling your name ever since. Wearing it felt like carrying a piece of him, a comforting reminder of your best friend’s steadfast presence in your life.

“You’re hoarding my scarf again,” Steve’s familiar voice rumbled, warm like the cocoa in your hands.

You looked up to see him standing there, an easy smile on his lips, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. Steve Rogers looked annoyingly good all the time, but today? He was unfairly festive in a forest-green sweater that made his eyes pop and jeans that fit just right. His blond hair had a dusting of snow, making him look like he’d just stepped out of one of those cheesy Hallmark movies.

“I’m not hoarding it,” you replied, tipping your head back against the chair. “I’m borrowing it.”

Steve raised an eyebrow as he slipped off his jacket and slung it over the back of the chair opposite you. “Borrowing implies you asked.”

“Well, you left it at my place. Technically, it’s on you.” You sipped your cocoa, giving him a cheeky grin over the rim of your mug.

He laughed, the sound rich and hearty, and sat down. “Fair enough. Keep it. It looks better on you anyway.”

Your cheeks warmed, and it had nothing to do with the cocoa.

Steve leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out in front of him. “So, why’d you drag me to the library today? Thought you’d want to spend your day off doing something festive—like, I don’t know, ice skating?”

You rolled your eyes. “Steve, the last time we went ice skating, you ended up carrying me off the ice because I fell approximately a hundred times.”

“That’s an exaggeration,” he teased. “It was maybe eighty times.”

“Either way,” you said, ignoring the flush of heat in your chest at the memory of him lifting you like you weighed nothing, “the library is festive. Look at the decorations!”

It was true; the library had gone all out for the holidays. Twinkling lights framed the towering bookshelves, garlands wrapped around the railings of the second floor, and a massive Christmas tree stood in the centre of the room, ornaments catching the light with every shimmer.

“You’ve got a point,” Steve admitted, glancing around. “But you still haven’t answered my question. What are we doing here?”

You set your mug down and reached for the bag at your feet, pulling out a leather-bound journal. “We’re doing a Christmas scavenger hunt. Well, sort of.”

Steve tilted his head, intrigued. “Sort of?”

“It’s a literary scavenger hunt,” you explained, flipping open the journal to reveal a neatly written list. “We have to find books that match these clues. It’s like a bookish adventure.”

His eyes softened as he leaned forward to read the list. “You really love this stuff, don’t you?”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool. “It’s fun. And, you know, it’s Christmas. We’re supposed to do stuff we enjoy.”

Steve’s gaze lingered on you a beat too long, his expression unreadable. Then he smiled. “Alright, book adventurer. Where do we start?”

The next hour flew by in a blur of laughter and whispered debates as the two of you navigated the library’s labyrinth of bookshelves. Steve was surprisingly good at the scavenger hunt, his sharp memory and quick thinking helping you solve clues faster than you expected.

“Okay,” you said, holding up the journal as you scanned the next clue. “Find a book about an unlikely hero who saves the day.”

Steve tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Does ‘unlikely’ mean someone who doesn’t think they’re a hero or someone who really isn’t cut out for it?”

“Good question,” you mused, glancing at the shelves. “I think either works.”

“How about this one?” Steve pulled a book from the shelf and handed it to you.

You read the title aloud. “The Hobbit? That’s perfect.” You grinned up at him. “Good job, Captain America.”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thanks. Though I think Bucky would argue I still owe him a copy of this one.”

“Bucky can wait. We’re on a mission,” you declared dramatically, clutching the book to your chest.

Steve’s laugh echoed through the aisle, and for a moment, you felt like you were the only two people in the world. The library seemed quieter somehow, the festive lights casting a golden glow around you both. You caught Steve’s gaze, his eyes warm and searching, and your heart skipped a beat.

“Hey,” he said softly, breaking the silence. “Thanks for bringing me here. I didn’t realise how much I needed this.”

“Steve, it’s a library. Not exactly groundbreaking.”

He shook his head, his expression earnest. “No, I mean… just spending time with you. It’s nice.”

Your throat tightened, and you nodded, unsure how to respond without your feelings spilling out. Because the truth was, you didn’t just enjoy spending time with Steve. You craved it. He was your best friend, your anchor, and somewhere along the way, your heart had started hoping for something more.

But that wasn’t part of the deal. Steve had been through so much—he deserved stability, not the mess of unspoken feelings you carried.

“Come on,” you said, forcing a smile and holding up the journal. “We’ve got a few more clues to solve.”

By the time you finished the scavenger hunt, the sky outside had darkened, the snow falling heavier now. The library was quieter too, most patrons having gone home for the evening.

You and Steve settled by the Christmas tree, your haul of books stacked between you. The soft glow of the lights made his features look impossibly kind, and you found yourself staring longer than you should.

“What’s next?” he asked, leaning back against the wall.

“Nothing,” you admitted, tucking the journal away. “We finished the list.”

He frowned playfully. “No grand finale? No prize for solving it all?”

“The prize was the journey, Rogers,” you said, smirking.

“Hmm.” He pretended to think. “I don’t know. I feel like there’s gotta be more.”

Before you could argue, Steve reached over and gently tugged at the scarf around your neck. “You’re still wearing this,” he murmured.

Your breath caught as his fingers brushed your skin. “It’s warm.”

His lips twitched. “Yeah. But you know, you’re welcome to keep it.”

“You sure?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

He nodded, his gaze steady on yours. “I’m sure.”

The air between you shifted, the playful banter giving way to something deeper. Steve’s hand lingered near your neck, and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Steve…” His name came out as barely a whisper.

“I have to tell you something,” he said, his voice low and steady. “And if I don’t say it now, I might never get the courage.”

Your pulse quickened. “What is it?”

He hesitated, his blue eyes searching yours like he was looking for an answer. “You’re my best friend,” he began. “But somewhere along the way… you became more than that. I don’t know when it happened, but I can’t stop thinking about you. About us.”

The world seemed to stop spinning as his words sank in. You stared at him, stunned. “Steve…”

“I get it if you don’t feel the same,” he continued quickly. “I just… I needed you to know. Because if there’s even a chance you might, I’m—”

You didn’t let him finish. Closing the distance between you, you pressed your lips to his, pouring every unspoken word into the kiss. Steve froze for a heartbeat, then his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close.

The kiss was soft and sweet, filled with the warmth and tenderness that defined him. When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together.

“I feel the same,” you admitted, your voice shaky but certain. “I’ve wanted this—you—for so long.”

Relief and joy lit up his face, and he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin. “You have no idea how happy that makes me.”

You smiled, tears pricking your eyes. “Merry Christmas, Steve.”

He leaned in, his lips brushing yours again. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

[captainsophiestark]

Omgggggg this was so heartbreaking and so bittersweet and so wonderful!! The hopeful-but-not-guaranteed ending was absolutely perfect, especially mirroring Carmy's path and progress in the rest of his life. Great fic and a great arc!!

Favorite Ex

Summary: When Carmy’s stress and anxiety rise to unprecedented levels, he shuts down and pushes you away. However, you can’t stop thinking about each other.

Author’s Note: Inspired by Maisie Peter’s song “Favourite Ex" and lines from S1, E5 which I've italicized.

Warnings: language, mention of fire, angst, break up, fluffy ending

Shades of orange consumed Carmy’s vision, searing heat hitting his face, neck and arms as flames rose dangerously high from the burners. His hands should have reached for the fire extinguisher instead of remaining by his side, arm hairs singing to oblivion. In that moment he wasn’t sure if he was unable or unwilling to guide himself, but he was well aware it wasn’t normal, this lack of concern for his own well being. As black smoke collected around him, the shifting light danced in his darkened pupils, but he wasn’t present, his thoughts were far away with you. 

———————-

The light flickered above the kitchen sink as he watched you fill the coffee pot, the need for caffeine growing after days of getting up before five every day this week. “Carmy, did you pay the electric bill?” you demanded with a huff. You were always short with him recently and he knew he was letting you down, but the days at the restaurant were wearing on him.

Turning back to blow smoke out the window, he rubbed his eyes, trying to recall which bills he’d been able to take care of this month. 

“Are you listening to me? They’re gonna cut you off again. I told you last week about the notice,” you said, reaching for the stack of papers piled high on the counter. Unable to find what you were looking for in the chaos, you gave up, placing your fingertips to your temples. “Look, Carmy, I know you wanted me to move here permanently, but I think that was just the grief talking.”

Carm grimaced as he flicked the cigarette butt out the window. “The fuck are you talking about?”

“I mean, you needed someone here with you after Mikey—“ you began, but he cut you off, jumping up from the window and pushing past you to stalk down the hall.

“Don’t do that!” you warned him.

“What?” he muttered as he kept walking.

“That thing you do where you walk away and don’t talk to me for days. I can’t stand it!”

He turned on his heel, facing you with clenched jaw. “Well, what the fuck am I supposed to say when you tell me you’re here out of pity.”

You furrowed your brow at his accusation. “That’s not what I said. I want to be here, but not if you won’t talk to me about what’s going on with you. You just shut me out and I need more!” You’d finally said what had been on your mind for weeks now, too afraid to voice your own needs when your boyfriend was struggling with major life changes.

“Well, I can’t do that,” he shouted. His words were so harsh it felt like a stab to the back. You’d been there for him since he got the call about Mikey and sat with him night after night when he had horrific nightmares, waking covered in sweat, but unwilling to say a word about them.

“Do you know how many people need me right now? Syd and Tina are at each other’s throats, Richie’s always starting shit and Sugar’s calling me twenty times a day about meetings and talking to Ma. I don’t need this from you too. I can’t do this!” he said, body suddenly going deathly still, eyes fixing on a water stain on the wall just as the lights went out.

Observing his rigid posture, you knew he’d shut down. It was how he coped with stress and even though you hated it, you had to accept that you weren’t going to get any more out of him today. You wiped a tear from your cheek as you nodded to yourself. 

“Okay, Carmy. I’m gonna give you some space then,” you conceded, leaving him in the darkened hallway. He listened to the front door slam behind you as he rested his forehead against the adjacent doorway, knowing he’d fucked it all up and hating himself more than he already did.

——————————

“Carmy! Carmy!” A voice shouted, breaking through his haze and urging him to act. “Fire, chef!” Sweeps warned, moving up to take charge of the blaze. Carm finally moved back, shaking his head as though he were just realizing what was happening. Grabbing the fire extinguisher from the other man’s hands he pulled the pin and aimed the nozzle at the flames lapping at the stove, watching as a thick spurt of white foam issued forth. The fire died out with a sizzle and Carm breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

“Yo, Jeff, what happened?” Tina asked, popping her head around the corner.

“Fire’s out,” Sweeps declared, hauling the extinguisher off swiftly. Carmy turned to Tina, snapping back into work mode and asked, “Sorry, everything's fine. Did you finish your prep?” 

“Yeah, you alright?” she said with concern, glancing up and down his disheveled form.

“I need to go take care of something,” he mumbled, heading for the alley.

————————-

Your phone rang and you immediately reached to silence it, stopping when you noticed Carm’s number flash on the screen. It had been three months since you’d spoken and you wondered if you should even answer. He’d made it clear that a relationship was not what he wanted right now and you had made peace with that….until now. You had to admit you missed him.

Your best nights had been with Carmy, listening to music in his tiny kitchen as you cooked together. You could still feel the warmth of his hands on your hips as he checked the progress of the sauce over your shoulder. “More garlic,” he’d say with authority. 

“Fuck your one star, I’m the chef tonight,” you always told him. His smirk told you he was pleased with your assertiveness, happy not to have make any decisions for the night. However, your need to take charge caused your worst fights as well. You wanted Carm to talk about Mikey and the more you pushed, the more he retreated from you. He said you didn’t understand, but you cared deeply, wanting to help him through his grief. Simply wanting to take care for him if only he'd let you.

The buzzing from your phone continued and you finally decided to pick up, more eager than you should have been to hear his voice again. You cleared your throat anxiously before answering with a shaky, “Carmy?”

“Y/n? Sorry, I know it’s late,” he apologized.

“S’okay. What’s going on?” you asked, trying to sound casual as you picked at your pajama bottoms nervously.

“We had a fire at the restaurant today,” he began.

“Oh, my God, Carm, are you okay?” you blurted, worried about how calm he sounded despite what he’d just told you.

“Yeah, yeah. It was just a grease fire, you know? But the point is, I realized something. I was watching it and I had a minute where I thought—If I don’t do anything, this place will burn down and all my anxiety will go away with it,” he sighed heavily and your heart nearly broke at the sound, listening to him open up to you in a way you knew was difficult for him. 

“And then I put the fire out,” he finished. “I snapped out of it and I realized I’ve been avoiding a lot of things….I’ve been avoiding you because I didn’t think I could handle it all. Like I was waiting for Mikey to come back and fix all the fucked up shit he left, but I’m done with that. I want live my life for me.”

You nodded into the phone, lip trembling as you replied, “I’m glad to hear you say that.”

“I haven’t slept without you. I’ve cried for weeks. Nothing feels right without you, but I’m going to start making some changes around here and I hope you’ll come back,” he said, swallowing harshly as he awaited your answer. 

You searched the ceiling, wanting to say yes right away, but knowing how Carmy’s mood could change on a dime. “That sounds really good so let’s start with dinner first, ok?” you asked.

“Yeah, of course,” he rushed out, relieved to hear you would see him again. “You free Thursday?”

“Thursday? Sure,” you agreed. 

Then you heard him breathe into the phone as though he was letting out an anxious breath. “You still like chicken piccata?” he asked and you smiled, knowing he remembered your favorite. 

“Only if you let me help make the sauce,” you countered. “Fucking one star,” you quipped. You heard him laugh and it warmed your heart.

You liked the thought of calling him that again instead of your ex. He was your favorite ex, but that wasn't really a consolation. You hoped things were changing for the better, but only time would tell.

[captainsophiestark]

AHHHHHHHHHHH THIS IS SO CUTE!!!!! I love the intro to the family, and especially Hyacinth! And their conversation while walking together was ADORABLE. Love!!! 🙌💗💗💗

Anthony Bridgerton's Guide to Accidentally Falling In Love - 5

Anthony Bridgerton/Fem!Reader

Words: 1,939

Summary: Anthony Bridgerton thought it was clear that he does not intend to marry at this point, but still he is plagued by hopeful young ladies (and their mothers) who hope to change his mind. So when he meets a widowed Countess who is burdened by the ton's unkind gossip wherever she walks, the two of them realize that maybe they could be of help when it came to each other's problems.

Series Masterlist • Anthony Bridgerton Masterlist

Anthony and his family had already been here for quite some time, but you had not yet arrived at Hyde Park.

Not that he was keeping track of course. 

However, without your presence, he didn’t know how long he would be able to fend off the various ladies that crossed his path, and how long he would be able to keep Gregory and Hyacinth from bickering loud enough that everyone within two kilometers could hear them, like they had on the carriage ride over. 

Speaking of his youngest sister, where had she run off to? She wasn’t antagonizing Gregory, as he was currently attached to Colin and Eloise, the three of them deep in conversation as they looked around the park. Benedict and his mother were walking a few steps behind him, discussing some kind of artistic venture that his brother planned on undertaking in the near future. 

But from what he could see, Hyacinth was nowhere to be found. 

Not wanting to alarm the rest of the family (as it would be quite embarrassing for everyone involved if he made a scene only to find out that his sister had simply been speaking to Penelope Featherington), Anthony walked slightly faster, eyes sharp in their attention when he heard a rather familiar voice. 

“It is lovely to meet you, Miss Hyacinth. Is the rest of your family here as well?” 

There you were, standing at the outskirts of the park and conversing with his sister, who was holding her bonnet in her hands. If Anthony had to guess, it had been blown off her head, and Hyacinth had peeled off from the rest of the family in an effort to retrieve it. 

“Hyacinth!” he called out, and you both turned to look at him as he made his way over to greet you. “Next time, don’t run off like that.”

“But the wind took my bonnet!” she said, a defensive expression forming on her face. 

“If it happens again, just say something before you take off,” he admonished, taking care to ensure his tone was not too harsh. “I hope you didn’t run anyone over in your haste.” 

“She did nothing of the sort,” you confirmed, a smile spreading across your face. “In fact, Hyacinth has been the picture of kindness from the moment she introduced herself, and I was just about to ask if she wanted to accompany me through the park. You are of course more than welcome to join us, Lord Bridgerton.”

Anthony watched as his sister’s eyes grew wide at the offer. “Can I?” she asked excitedly. 

“Of course,” was his response. “And I would be happy to accompany you as well.” 

At the second part of his sentence, Hyacinth’s expression soured. “I am old enough to spend a few moments on my own, brother,” she said, and Anthony couldn’t help but laugh at her annoyed expression. “You don’t have to follow me everywhere.”

“I know that,” was his response. She was right, but there was another reason that he wanted to stay in this general vicinity. “But since it was I who invited Lady Everleigh to the park today, I would also like to speak with her.”

His sister’s eyes grew even wider as she took in his words, something he wouldn’t have even thought possible. “Wait, this is the Countess? Daphne’s friend?”  

“I am also your brother’s friend,” you said, laughter bubbling from your lips as you caught Anthony’s expression of brief annoyance.  “And I would love to be your friend as well, Miss Hyacinth. You can call me Y/N.” 

“Wonderful!” his sister practically shouted, taking your hand in hers and beginning to drag you back towards where the rest of the assembled Bridgertons were gathered. “Come on, we should go and see the rest of my family, they’ve all been dying to meet you!” 

“Wait, Hyaci-” Anthony started to say, but it was too late. You were already being swiftly moved towards where Colin, Eloise, and Gregory stood, even though Anthony would have much preferred it if you had gotten a chance to promenade with him before he introduced you to everyone else and they took over your attention. But he should have known that Hyacinth would not leave you alone so easily, especially not since you asked to be her friend. 

He walked a few paces behind as his sister immediately brought you up to the rest of the family, beaming the entire time. “Everyone, this is my new friend, Lady Y/N Everleigh,” she said proudly. “Apparently, she is also Anthony’s friend.” 

Both you and Eloise tried to hide your laughter at her words, but Hyacinth did not seem to notice. “And these are some of my siblings, Colin, Eloise, and Gregory. Benedict is over there, conversing with my mother. Benedict!” she called excitedly. “Come meet the Countess!” 

Moments later all of his present siblings were crowded around you, all happily chatting as Anthony watched. Not that he was worried any of them would bring up the rumors about the demise of your husband to your face, he still found himself wishing that he was the one to introduce you to his family (and not his youngest sister, as friendly as she was). 

He was so lost in thought that he didn’t even hear his mother approach, her voice eventually pulling him away from his thoughts. “Hyacinth certainly likes her.” 

”I would guess that the rest of them do as well,” he responded, gesturing to where you were smiling with Benedict and Eloise before leaning down to whisper something in Gregory’s ear, immediately causing him to laugh so hard he snorted. Of course he knew that his family would like you, but he wondered if he would now have to compete a little more for your time, something which may affect the scheme you were currently embroiled in.

Violet regarded her eldest son with curiosity. “Then why do you look so glum, my dear?” 

He didn’t know how to answer his mother’s question, not truly, so he settled on laying the groundwork for your ruse. “At the last ball, she confided in me that she does not have many friends, so I thought we could promenade together this evening,” he said. “However, Hyacinth interrupted before that could happen.” 

Violet just smiled as she took her son’s arm and gently led him a few paces out of earshot of you and the rest of her children. “There will be more than enough time to promenade after the Countess is done introducing herself to the rest of the family,” she said. “I will make sure of it.” 

“Thank you, mother.” 

But of course, he should have known that would not be the end of the conversation. “Anthony, may I ask you a question?” 

“Always.” 

“Why have you never seriously considered looking for a wife?” 

Out of all the questions that his mind had come up with potential responses for, that was not one of them. “The well-being of the estate and of my family is of the utmost importance,” he said. “As much as I know you wanted me to participate more earnestly in the marriage mart, there hasn’t once been a young lady present at these events who I truly wished to speak to beyond simple pleasantries. I always believed that when I began my search for a wife, love would simply not be a factor.” 

Violet did not say anything right away, letting the weight of her son’s words weigh over the two of them for a few moments. “And has that changed at any recent time?” 

Now, he thought. Now was the perfect time to begin this whole ruse. 

“I believe it has,” he responded, looking out at where you were still speaking with his siblings. 

“Then you should tell Lady Everleigh how you feel,” his mother hummed. “I can’t guarantee that things will be easy, and she may not even be looking to remarry, but I’ve noticed a change in you since the two of you danced for the first time.” 

“Hopefully it is a good one.” 

Violet grinned. “I can assure you that it is the very best kind, my dear.” 

Anthony stepped away from his mother right as she called her children back to her, and he approached you as everyone else pulled away. “It seems I now have to ask once more if a sister of mine was holding you hostage,” he said, a smile spreading across his face. 

“And I will once more assure you that no one in your family could ever do such a thing,” you laughed. “However, I do believe that I was promised a walk with you.” 

“Well, there is no time like the present, right?” He offered you his arm after speaking, the same way you did when you showed him around your home. 

Conversation flowed with perfect ease as the two of you meandered through the park. He enjoyed your company immensely, and it seemed that telling Violet about his plans to promenade with you was the right choice, as none of his siblings felt the need to interrupt your time together. 

“My mother will not be surprised by any news of us courting, and my whole family seems to love you,” he said quietly. “I think it very much possible that we will be able to succeed in the impossible endeavor of lying to everyone we know.” 

“I believe our scheme is already working with the other members of the ton as well,” you said softly as you passed a small group of people. “There are many eligible young ladies present today at the park, and yet none of them have dared approach you.” 

“And I have high hopes for the fact that the rumors around you will at least be less suffocating than they were before,” he responded sincerely. 

“I suppose we’ll have to wait and see,” you said. “Maybe I will be invited to more dinner parties now that we have been seen so many times together.” 

“As I said before, I think you should still decline those. They’re dreadfully boring.” 

You laughed, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sound. “You might receive invitations as well,” you said. “And because I am not in a place where I can refuse any kind of societal summons, I would simply have to drag you along with me.” 

“I suppose that is the price I must pay for all the help you’ve already been to me,” he said gravely, but the solemn expression he tried to wear never actually reached his eyes. If it meant ensuring your good standing in society, he would suffer through countless soirées and garden parties at the homes of people he didn’t really care to get to know. 

Your presence alone would make them infinitely more bearable anyway. 

When it was finally time to part ways for the evening, you made sure to say goodbye to each one of his siblings personally, and Anthony kissed your gloved hand as you bid each other farewell. He could feel his family’s eyes on him as they all walked to where to carriages were waiting, and despite the fact that he rode home with Colin and Benedict, neither of them dared to tease him about your presence at the park, or the small displays of affection he had shown (likely, due to some thinly veiled threat on the part of their mother). 

He felt safe in assuming that his family would support the (false) courtship he was building with you. 

Now all he had to worry about was the rest of the ton.

- end of part five -

series taglist: @maricciardo @imafangirlofeverything @allthegirlsdreamed @captainsophiestark @chrissisheadisinclouds @anxiousgoldengirl @sweatyconnoisseurstrawberry @sky0401 @fallout-girl219 @ifilwtmfc @jackierose902109 @mysticwitchcraftco

[captainsophiestark]

Can’t take the Robin out of the boy

[captainsophiestark]

AHHHHHHHH ADORABLE!!!! I love seeing them putting their heads together and scheming, the banter is SO good!!! Also Violet calling her shot early lmao, *fantastic* and very in character 🙌😂😂

Anthony Bridgerton's Guide to Accidentally Falling In Love - 4

Anthony Bridgerton/Fem!Reader

Words: 1,841

Summary: Anthony Bridgerton thought it was clear that he does not intend to marry at this point, but still he is plagued by hopeful young ladies (and their mothers) who hope to change his mind. So when he meets a widowed Countess who is burdened by the ton's unkind gossip wherever she walks, the two of them realize that maybe they could be of help when it came to each other's problems.

Note: hehe the ruse is beginning! i hope everyone is enjoying the fic so far :)

Series Masterlist • Anthony Bridgerton Masterlist

Conversation buzzed all around him the next morning as the family broke fast together, but Anthony’s thoughts were far from present at the table. Last night, he made a pact, a deal that would not only affect his future but that of someone else’s, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous about whether or not it would even work. 

He did not regret his (admittedly hasty) proposition, but to effectively pull something like this off would require much more planning than the original conversation he had with you in that garden. And who knows? Maybe you had woken up this morning and regretted the answer you gave him, something he should probably know before truly setting any part of the ruse in motion. And then he had to consider his brothers and sisters - how would the others around him be affected by this plan they had no part in hatching?

Not that he believed his family would be unwelcome to the idea of him courting you, but that it might break their hearts if they found out it was all a lie. 

And besides, things had to end eventually, since neither you nor him had any intentions of actually getting married. The purpose of this agreement was not to chain yourselves to each other for life, but rather to offer a respite for the problems that faced you both this social season. He just hoped that when this all came to an end, that your friendship would remain a part of his life. 

He was so deep in thought that he didn’t hear his name being spoken, and he only realized that he missed something when every eye in the room was turned to him. “Yes?” he asked, feigning ignorance by simply taking a drink from the glass in front of him. 

“I asked what your plans were for the day,” his mother said. “I thought we could promenade as a family this evening.” 

“I have a business meeting later in the morning that I must be present for,” he spoke smoothly. “And I am unsure of how long it will take, but I believe I will be back in time to help you chaperone.” 

Violet’s eyes held a twinkle of humor in them, and she smiled before responding. “Are you sure that you would not be one of the family members requiring a chaperone?” 

Anthony’s gaze steeled for a moment, and then softened. If the rest of the ton was to believe this ruse, he could not afford to have a single member of his inner circle doubt the parts that were being played. Thankfully, Benedict’s desire to tease his brother saved Anthony from having to come up with a response to that particular question. “If a certain Countess happens to be promenading at the same time, I can step in and help keep watch, as Anthony will no doubt take his leave.” 

“I hope we do see her again soon,” Violet said with a smile, before directing her next statement at her eldest son. “The two of you looked lovely dancing together last night.” 

Anthony simply nodded as he took another sip from his glass, unsure of what to say. Unfortunately, that same problem was not shared by Eloise. “No rebuttal, brother?” she asked, a teasing smile on her face. “Be careful, one might think you were truly falling in love.” 

He wasn’t, but he also knew that the truth would do no good in this particular situation. 

Rolling his eyes, Anthony took the last bite from his plate and rose from the table. “If you are all done speculating about my feelings, I will bid you good day. As I mentioned, I have important business to attend to.” 

Not even waiting for a response, he left the room, completely oblivious to the way his family continued the conversation in his absence, all sharing their various theories on how his relationship with you might progress over the coming days.

It seemed that everything was already falling into place. 

***

As Anthony walked up the stone stairs that led to your estate, he couldn’t help but notice how quiet everything was. Even the street your house stood on seemed to have not woken up yet, a far cry from the way his home seemed to be alight with joy and laughter at all hours of the day. 

After being greeted by a kind-looking butler, he was led into the drawing room and left alone, without even a promise that you would be in to see him shortly. The moment he was alone he took in his surroundings, trying to ignore the persistent chill in the air and the coldness of the room. The decor and furniture were nothing less than exquisite, but it felt more like a museum than a home. 

He had just picked up one of the vases on the side table to get a closer look at it when the door opened. “Looking to add thievery to your list of colorful qualities, Lord Bridgerton?”

You stood in the doorway wearing a teasing smile, and instantly he felt at ease. “Why would I bother?” he responded, a mischievous look appearing on his face. “When we marry, all of this would not only be yours but mine as well.” 

“You truly are quite forward,” you responded with a laugh. “As my memory served, we agreed to simply court each other, but it seems that you’re already planning a wedding.”

”Do you expect anything less?” 

You smiled. “I suppose that is why you’ve called on me this morning, is it not?” 

“Even if we did not have a scheme to discuss, I would still have wanted to see my friend,” he responded, moving closer so that you stood only a step apart. “If for no other reason than to take a tour of her grand home.” 

“Well then,” you said, offering him your arm. “What kind of hostess would I be if I refused such an earnest request?” 

The conversation was pleasant as you led him through the rooms of your estate, every room he entered somehow grander than the last (even if he could tell they had not been used in some time). “All of this is yours?” he asked as the two of you stepped into the garden, and he could see vast stretches of perfectly kept grass in the distance. 

“All mine,” you confirmed. “My late husband left me everything in his will, and we had no children.” 

“It must be lonely here.” 

You were silent for a moment before responding. “You have no idea. I think you’re the first person to call in some months, Lord Bridgerton.” 

“Call me Anthony, please. As I’ve said before, we are friends,” he said. “And if we are going to pull this off, we need to be convincing.” 

You nodded, your expression swiftly shifting to one of all business. “Then we should discuss how we are to act around each other, to ensure that our deception is both accepted and unquestioned.” 

Sitting down on a nearby bench, the two of you were not as far apart this time as you had been the first time you had been alone in a garden together, at last night’s ball. “It is a given that we must dance together at balls,” Anthony said. “As is the fact that I will call on you with some regularity.” 

“We should also be seen together in public on occasion,” you added. “At the races or the park. And I should probably have tea with your mother sometime soon.”

“It would be wise if you were well-acquainted with all my family,” Anthony said. “Simply announcing a courtship might provoke more attention than necessary, but the rumors are sure to grow naturally if we are seen together more often before that particular piece of information starts to make its way around the ton.” 

You smiled. “Let Lady Whistledown do the work, I like it.” 

“I am going to be accompanying my mother and some of my siblings this evening to promenade in Hyde Park,” he said suddenly. “Maybe we could run into each other there?” 

“That’s a good idea.” 

A beat of silence descended over the two of you, and Anthony spoke once more. “We should also consider how we will end our charade.”

You were silent for a moment, clearly having not considered this particular part of the endeavor.  “I suppose the best way would be for us to simply go our separate ways at the end of season,” you said softly. 

Anthony’s chest tightened as he thought about your words. He didn’t want to have to give up your friendship once this was all said and done, but he knew that it may very well be necessary. “If neither of us make any official word on our relationship, we should be free to end the charade painlessly,” he said. “Ensuring that both our reputations will remain untouched and we are free to carry out the future in any way we wish.” 

You shot him a puzzled look. “How?” 

“If we let the rumor that we have called off the courtship start to grow at the season’s end, by the time next year comes, there will surely be another scandal for the ton to care about, leaving the two of us absolved of that attention,” he said. 

“I suppose it might be easier than staging an argument,” you said, a pensive look crossing your face. “Selfishly, I would like to remain close to your sister after this is all over, as she is becoming a dear friend.” 

“And what of my friendship?” he asked jokingly. 

You rolled your eyes as a playful smile appeared on your face. “I’ll ask that Daphne invites you over on occasion, this way we can still see each other.”

But before Anthony could respond in false offense, your butler approached the two of you on the bench. “Lady Everleigh, I apologize for interrupting,” he said. “But the solicitor is here to discuss something with you.” 

Anthony’s expression changed. “Is everything alright?” 

“Of course,” was your response. “I’ve been working with Mr. Hornsby to manage this estate, but I’m currently trying to decide whether or not I should move into a smaller one, since it’s just me in this grand house. I forgot that we had a meeting set for today, but it shouldn’t last too long. Edwin can lead you back out to your carriage,” you said, gesturing towards your butler. 

Anthony nodded as he began to get up from where he sat. “Very well,” he said. “I shall see you later on then?” 

“I wouldn’t miss it,” was your response, shooting him a kind smile before the two of you parted ways. 

Maybe it was because he knew that soon he would no longer be mobbed by eligible ladies and their obstinate mothers, but he couldn’t help but feel a lightness in his soul as his carriage pulled away from your estate and began to take him home.

- end of part four -

series taglist: @maricciardo @imafangirlofeverything @allthegirlsdreamed @captainsophiestark @chrissisheadisinclouds @anxiousgoldengirl @sweatyconnoisseurstrawberry @sky0401 @fallout-girl219 @ifilwtmfc @jackierose902109