#Daphne needs a breath of fresh air I think

[belethlegwen]

The Faerie Spell - Chp 4

Chapter One: Click Here Previous Chapter: Click Here Chapter Directory: Click Here Words: 5542 Summary: Gem, Daphne's nicest friend, takes her out for dinner and a hang out, but wants to have some... uncomfortable conversations.

Gem tried. Gemima really did try, and really did care, and I could always tell that about her. She was an incredibly nice and caring person, always, even before all of this happened! She was one of my favourite people to be around because she just always sort of inspired me to be a better person.

Gem was one of those people who was so nice that it always seemed like it just came so naturally to her. Like she could just sense when someone needed help in some way, and she had already thought of a thousand ways to help that person and was doing the best one, always. I realize now that that whole aura was the result of many many years of practice. She had helped so many people with problems so many times, that she was like a chess Grandmaster in a way; she could tell based on what moves you had already made, what moves you were going to make, and what moves she needed to make in order to set that board up exactly how she wanted it to be.

Sitting in a cup-holder of her car that had been stuffed with soft, fleecy fabrics and cotton balls, I was coming to finally understand that she had never seen these moves before. She hadn’t seen any of these pieces before, when it came to me and my problem.

But she was trying. I guess I can’t really… get mad at her about that.

“I figured this would be easier than the purse or the seatbelt again,” Gem’s voice got my attention and I looked up as she continued to drive us to her house. My arms were braced against the sides of the cup holder as much as they could be, trying to stop me from getting slammed into the sides of it whenever we braked, started moving again, or turned. I was straddling-- to the best of my ability-- the amplifying stone AND the protection stone at the same time to try and make the ride a little bit less… hazardous, and to help her hear me while she had to keep her eyes on the road.

“It’s uh…” I started, shuddering at the thought of the seatbelt and how awful that experiment had been, and the purse hadn’t been awful but at the time I did feel exceptionally removed from all of the conversation going on, like I had been kind of forgotten about in there. That was the second time this had happened though, so… I imagine it would be better by now? Or I hope? Still though, I didn’t want to discourage her from trying. She was the only one who really seemed to consider me in these equations. “It’s better than the seatbelt, for sure,” I offered as cheerfully as I could manage. If it weren’t a cup holder and it weren’t a moving vehicle, this would actually be a nice change from the doll furniture.

“Oh, that’s good,” she replied warmly, sounding relieved. Her eyes dropped down just a second to smile at me before I wound up flopping forward as we braked at another red light. Gem lived clear on the other side of town from me now, and the city was a shit place to drive during rush hour.

There was another long pause. Normally Gem gabbed while she was driving like it was the only way she knew how to exhale, but something had been on her mind ever since she came to get me from the apartment, and this whole adventure had been awkward as all hell. I knew I was to blame for it. Gem hated anyone fighting, and that’s all I had managed to do with damn near everyone, in front of her, the entire day. If I were to put money down, I imagine the hesitating was due to her fighting in her head over whether she needed to focus on making me feel better and helping me through this stupid bout of curse-itis, or whether she needed to make sure I ‘understand the power of my words when dealing with interpersonal matters’ or something.

“Sooo…” she started on a drawl, me trying to listen to her while avoiding motion sickness as best as I could in the rock-tumbler of a seat I was in. “I know… I know things were hard for you this morning. I know things are tense at the apartment with Sheri right now…”

Oh boy, here it comes.

“I just… I wanted to apologize for how our call went earlier. I know it hurts to think we’re talking behind your back, but I want to assure you that’s not the case. Sheri just messaged me to let me know that you were in a bad spot, and she did tell me you two had been fighting when it happened.”

I stared straight ahead. Losing my bet aside, Gem was lying to me.

Cal had told me about their group chat. Like, I know I can’t say much-- I have a group chat with all of them that Sheri isn’t in that I’m sure she also knows about based on her comments this morning about me bitching about her to Cal or whoever she thinks I’m bitching about her to, but of all the people I really expected to just… lie to me in all of this, Gem wasn’t it.

“I’ve been… I’ve been a little worried, about your situation in the apartment, if I can be honest,” she said quietly, turning the blinker on and slowing down again. My arms were feeling exhausted from trying to hold me up and away and stopping me from bouncing around the center console like ice in a martini shaker. It was obvious she was waiting for me to reply as I caught her glancing down at me in my periphery, but I really didn’t know how to process any of what was happening.

Like yeah, ok, we started the group chat without Sheri in it so that I had a safe place to vent and ask for help with how to deal with her because we had always kind of been butting heads a bit, and then this shit happened, and yeah I kind of needed a place where I could go to like… have some other eyes but mine on her. Gem encouraged that, Gem said it was good and healthy and a safe space for that kind of thing.

…But shit, did they already have a group chat without me going? I mean, it would make sense that Gem and Sheri would talk about me in DMs and stuff when Sheri needed to, they were the ones who were closer friends before me and Sheri became roomies, but… Sheri and Cal don’t get along. They never really have. Mak gets along with everyone the same, kinda? I’ve never gotten a good read on Mak… fuck, did Mak secretly hate me? I mean, we don’t talk a lot, and maybe he talks to everyone else more-- he used to be roomies with Cal, so he’d invite Cal into a group chat just to shit talk me and stuff, and that would make sense and--

“I didn’t mean to upset you or anything…” Gem’s voice was soft, and I shook myself out of my worry spiral to glance up at her. Somewhere in the middle of all of this we had parked, presumably at her apartment building, and her eyes were the size of two moons as they peered down at me over an extremely concerned expression. “I just… I don’t think that the situation in your apartment is great for you, like this… and if you’d be ok with it, I mean-- I’ve got lots of space at my place. I have a few things in your scale, I don’t know if they’re like… any better than what you have but…”

Oh god.

Gem was asking me to… crash at her place? Move in with her? I hadn’t been paying attention, and I had no idea if I had missed something in the middle here.

“I, uh…” I drawled, my arms lowering and immediately making me flinch from how sore they were. “I mean… it’s my apartment,” I started. “I was there first. I don’t… I feel comfortable there, and--”

“Shhhh,” Gem hushed me from above and I grimaced. “I know, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean like… it’s not a forever thing and I don’t want you to feel pressured. I guess I just wanted you to know that if things are really as bad over there as they seem, especially like… today, that my door is always open, ok?”

She was being nice. I know she was being nice.

But… now I had to wonder. Was this even her idea? Who was she being nice to, right now? Did Sheri bitch about me in their secret group chat so much that Gem thought it’d be best to get me out of Sheri’s way? Let Sheri have some time away from ‘taking care of me all the time’? My eyes dropped to the stones by my feet and I moved a little to start picking them up. Gem’s hand moved in automatically for me to lay them on, ready to take them. “Thanks, Gem,” I managed to get out after swallowing every weird doubt and concern I had. I was so tired. Why even keep fighting, at this point? “I’ll keep it in mind, for sure.”

Gem’s smile was in her voice, and it was one of the few moments I wish I could shrink smaller. So small no one could even see me. “Alright. You ready to go get some food, girlfriend?”

Cal had forbidden me from telling anyone about their secret visit, the weed, or the twinkies, so I just nodded, plastering a smile on my face as I grabbed onto her offered fingers. “Yeah, that sounds great.”

Gem, like everyone else, had her own particular way of picking me up. It seemed to have fifty different steps involved, but it was gentle and honestly… it was nice to have someone take their time with me after everything else that had happened already today. She kind of moved me back and forth between her two hands to get me up and out of the cup holder until I was seated in her palm, her hand cupped like a bowl, and then she’d place her free on me whenever she didn’t need it for anything, covering most of me and just keeping me there.

It was… a little suffocating, especially because she made a point to basically press her hands to her chest as well. I guess she did it for stability, or to keep me close enough she could hear me in case I wanted something. We had never talked about it, mostly because Gem did all of the talking, but we were still in this weird, awkward quiet spell again.

“What were you, uh, thinking for food?” I asked as we traveled to her apartment. I shuddered in her hands as the elevator started and stopped, just glad we weren’t running into anyone. Gem knew I wasn’t too keen on being seen like this after the Witch kicked me to the curb, and her reaction was always to just suddenly cover me with both hands and almost force me into a ball. It couldn’t be subtle, not for anyone looking at her, but I guess Gem was just… nice enough? Weird enough? To get away with looking like she was smuggling a small bird around.

“I prepped veggies earlier to make a stir-fry,” she said happily over me, the sound of her voice reverberating against me with her hands pressed up against her chest like they were. God it was unsettling the first few times it happened whenever we wound up like this. “I was thinking if nothing else, the rice and sauce should be ok if I can’t get the veggies small enough for you?”

“The rice and the sauce would be perfect,” I lied.

I didn’t have plates and cutlery at my size. We honestly hadn’t figured anything like that out yet. I had seen a bit online when I was shopping for the furniture but I just… refused to get any. That seemed like I was giving up; like I was accepting this, somehow, and I wasn’t ready for that, I guess. I normally made do by just… eating dry foods or things that were easier to handle. Something swimming in sauce, when I would basically be using my bare hands, in literally just my pajamas that I’d be stuck in for I have no idea how long… not ideal.

But Gem was happy, and I was just so fucking tired of disappointing people or upsetting people or arguing with people today. So, why the hell not let her have this?

Turns out that plates and cutlery were uh… not going to be a problem, though.

I remember when the door opened and I immediately felt a bit creeped out. I knew that Gem had collected dollhouses and stuff, she had been the one to turn me onto those miniatures kits I kinda wanted to get into before it became, y’know, my life. She had ordered me the ‘beach house bungalo’ kit after the Witch refused to break my curse and this looked like it was going to be a more long-term problem.

But to wander in and see just… doll-furniture, set up everywhere… It was upsetting and I couldn’t quite pin down why. Like, should I have been upset about this? She had asked earlier in the day if I wanted her to come get me and I didn’t say no, it’s not totally out-there to assume she would’ve been expecting me to drop by at some point while this was happening it just--

“Again, no pressure,” she said as her hands suddenly pushed away from her body and we went on the agonizingly slow-and-steady descent to the dining room table that was just around the corner from her entrance hall, “but I just… I feel like it would be more comfortable here, for you? At least better than back home until Sheri calms down a bit and you two can relax a bit more around each other.”

“I don’t see why Sheridan can’t relax,” I snapped as she finally lifted the ‘safety hand’ off the top of me and let me stand. “It’s not like I’m hard to avoid while I’m down here, and aside from getting set up with food I don’t need anyone’s help.”

Gem sighed as she stood back up and started to take off her coat and things. She had forgotten to give me back my stones. “You do need help when you’re down there, traveling around the house isn’t exactly easy for someone your size and--”

“That’s why I bought the stairs and ladders, actually,” I called as I approached the chair and table set-up she’d presumably put out for me on one of the placemats. She had set up two chairs with it but only one place-setting. I picked up a tiny fork and grimaced; it was plastic, and didn’t feel extremely sturdy even at my own size, but I guess it was better than nothing. “I even gave myself a way to get in and out of the cupboard I keep my snacks in, so I can just--”

“That’s not safe,” Gem’s voice shot back softly but firmly as she hung her coat on the back of one of the chairs and went back to the porch to kick off her shoes into the boot tray. She was literally too far away to argue with, especially with my amplifying stone somewhere in her pocket, still. “What if you got trapped in there? No one would know where to find you.”

I kind of wanted to kick over this stupid little table. I knew for certain that I could get out of the cupboard, I had done all the testing myself when this had happened while Sheridan was at work; it was one of the times I was lucky enough to have my phone on me. None of them had even known it had happened until hours into it when I felt I had no choice but to let someone know. I was preparing to argue as she made her way back, but she detoured into the kitchen instead and just kept shouting to me.

I hated the way people shouting sounded, even from a distance. There was a weird rattle and strain in their voices that you don’t really notice when you’re normal that comes through when you’re this pathetically small, and no matter how much I tell them I can hear them even if they talk at a regular volume, they either forget or just never listen in the first place.

I had stopped reminding them when I realized that they were stepping into other rooms to ‘discuss’ me when this happened. Most of the time they were just worrying, and trying to figure out ways to help me out without upsetting me more, but still… I just wish I could be part of those conversations.

“Sheri also doesn’t like the stairs and ladders,” Gem was continuing from the kitchen, “she thinks they’re in the way.”

“What are they in the way of, vacuuming?” I muttered, huffing as I plopped into one of the dining chairs and trying to find a position that was comfortable. It was unsanded, so my pajamas kept getting stuck a bit on the pressboard fibers. 

“I don’t think they’re actually in the way, I think she might just be worried about you maybe getting under foot when she’s moving around the house and doesn’t want to hurt you.”

Was this another lie? Was she trying to cover for Sheri or just trying to make me feel better, or both? My arms wrapped around myself as I heard Gem get started on cooking. She was probably going to be in the kitchen for a while, and unsurprisingly all of her preparations for my visit didn’t involve letting me access the floor or anything else. 

“Maybe it’d be a good idea to put them away once you're normal again. I’m sure if you say you’re doing it out of respect for her, she’d be willing to put them back for you when this happened.”

Fat fucking chance. I have to go into her room once a week to clear out the soda cans before black mold starts to form, the woman was never going to take any kind of initiative to carefully put my actually pretty expensive stairs and ladders back around the house unless I asked, and then I’m sure it would just turn into more bitching about how I’m always on her case.

“Are you listening?” Gem asked with concern as she leaned her head out through the weird kitchen-window situation that all of the apartments from this era came with. I cupped my hands around my mouth and then did a large gesture with one arm, pretending to be shouting. I had learned pretty early that it was easier on my throat to fake it until they got the point in moments like this. “Oh, shoot… right.”

Gem muttered apologies as she scurried out of the kitchen with the stones in hand, and I futilely tried to point at the blue one while she tried to remember which was which. “TURQUOISE,” I shouted up at her when it was obvious she wasn’t going to bring them remotely near me until she had solved this puzzle on her own, and she almost jumped at the sound.

“You don’t need to yell,” she reprimanded me while laying the stones on the table and pushing the blue one closer to me with a finger. God, she was like my mother. “Come on, we’ll have this conversation while I cook.”

Her hands landed in the shape of a boat next to me as I walked over and put my bare foot on the stone. “I’m fine to talk from here now, actually, so--”

“Daph,” she said. Again: way too much like my mother. “I’d like to have this conversation with you, I think it’s important that you hear me out and we talk through--”

“I can do that fine from here now, really,” I said firmly, crossing my arms as I looked up at her. I needed to remind myself to see a chiropractor when I was finally back to normal again, or a massage therapist. Something for my aching neck, anyway. Speaking of setting reminders, actually; “Could I have my phone back, too, please? I want to set some notes for myself, for when this is done.”

Gem left her hands on the table and just stared at me with an unamused expression. “I’ll let you have your phone in the kitchen. C’mon, the pan’s almost heated and I don’t want the oil to start smoking.”

Just. Like. My mother.

This is why I stopped going home for Christmas.

I sighed, making sure it was audible with the enchantment before I took my foot off of the stone and hefted it into my arms. At my current height it was the same size as a corgi, so not the easiest thing to lug around, but it at least didn’t weigh anymore than like, fifteen pounds or something by my guess. The crew always said I looked kind of like an ant the way I could lug things around at my size. Kind of hated that comparison, but anyway…     Gem tipped one of her hands down for me to walk onto and we did the slightly-awkward shuffling as she insisted on doing this boat-carry. I refused to look up at her face any more, for one: because my neck hurt, and for two: I didn’t want to see that ‘proud’-- and kinda condescending-- smile she made when someone made a ‘hard but important choice for themselves’.

“I’m fine on the little table behind you,” I tried to direct her as she seemed to be lining up to put me on the counter right next to the stove-top.

“I want to be able to look at you while we have a conversation,” she said, her hands still slowly lowering, undeterred. She seemed to be fine with not looking at me while we were ‘having a conversation’ as she yelled at me from here earlier, but I didn’t want to bring it up.

“Can I go up in one of the cupboards, then? It’d keep me more at eye-level, my neck is starting to--”

“That’s a bit high for you, isn’t it?” She asked, jostling me just a little with a sudden stop as she looked up at the wall-mounted cupboards and frowned in thought.

“I’m not going to be trying to get down without your help,” I said, trying to sound as neutral as I could manage. If I got annoyed, I imagine this probably wouldn’t go anywhere I wanted to. I felt her hands almost start to lower again and pulled out the last card. “It’d keep me out of the hot-oil splash zone.”

Gem’s hands redirected so quickly I felt myself sink deeper into her palms and my stomach lurched. I took a glance at her face as she raised me up almost level with it and saw that she seemed almost embarrassed she hadn’t thought of that. There was some shuffling as she carefully-- almost painfully slowly-- tipped me into one palm and then put me in the cupboard. I hopped off quickly with my stone under one arm and turned around to help guide my phone in, but she had already turned to the pan below.

“Anyway,” she started, and it became obvious I’d be waiting at least a bit more on the phone, “I just think there should be a bit more compromise for what the living situation is back at your apartment right now to keep everyone happy.”

“Gem, I do literally all of the cleaning.” Maybe I shouldn’t have been so blunt about it, but I was kind of done with this entire day, and this whole entire situation. The past two months had been hell and there was basically no end in sight. Gem’s mouth opened to argue and I cut her off, sitting down on the stack of “small” plates next to me. “I’m not kidding, Gem. I do her laundry-- which I know she’s been bitching about because this has happened twice now before I was able to get laundry done and she always waits until the end of the week to bring me any. I do the floors, I do the counters and the bathroom. I don’t know if she realizes you can unload a dishwasher almost the exact same as you load it, but loading the dishwasher and sometimes remembering to run it is the only stuff she does.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Gem said, her eyes jumping up to look at me. “She feels under appreciated, and it’s causing her a lot of stress, especially with how she’s been--”

“Been what, exactly?” I asked, crossing my legs and leaning back. It was actually kind of nice to be eye-level with someone; at the very least, Gem’s expression seemed like she was taking me more seriously up here.

“Well,” my gigantic friend drawled, her eyes dropping back to the pan as she dumped more veggies in. The noise was irritating as all hell at this size, and at this close, but the cupboard did an ok-enough job of drowning out the worst of it, I suppose. “She has to be the one to drive to the grocery store and pick things up now, and when you need to go anywhere, she’s always on call to drive you--”

“Groceries, another thing I was doing completely by myself before this all happened,” I shot back. “She’s had to do them two times since this all happened and both of those times she just tagged along as a babysitter for me. The other times I’ve gone, I had Cal or you with me, remember?”

“I’m trying to have a conversation with you,” Gem grumbled, shooting me a look as she started reaching for her spices and sauces. “The point is that she’s having to do more than she was used to, and it’s been hard for her to adjust.”

“Gem.”

I watched her sigh and pretend she didn’t hear me as she stirred everything. I had to admit, it at least all smelled really good.

“Gem,” I repeated, a bit louder.

“I know this is a harder adjustment for you,” she said defeatedly after a minute, shooting me another look, “but I’m just trying to find something that makes everyone happy!”

“That’s not going to happen, Gemmie,” I said, legitimately starting to feel sorry for her. Yeah, she was being stupid about this, but it was the kind of stupid that came from being too nice to actually think about something. “This whole thing fucking sucks. I hate this, and--”

“Hate is a strong word.”

“I hate this,” I reiterated, staring at her. “I hate being this small. I hate how loud it is, I hate how uncomfortable it is. I hate how hard it is to do anything.” I was on a roll, I didn’t even care whether or not she was listening as her eyes bounced between me and the pan. I just wanted to get it off my chest. “I hate getting grabbed and pinched without being asked, I hate that I can’t do things without people feeling like they need to interject, even when I specifically tell them not to. I hate that no one understands what this is like.”

“You’re upset,” she said firmly, dismissively, as she cranked the stove off and did a quick taste test. “I’m not saying it isn’t hard for you, I know it’s got to be very hard, but you’re blowing this all out of proportion because you’ve had a bad day.”

“They’re all bad days now,” I sighed, getting frustrated again, “that’s what no one seems to--”

“You’re normal most of the time!” She shot back, aggressively bright-siding me. “Those are good days!”

“They aren’t, though,” I said, standing up off of the plates and walking toward the edge of the cupboard, stone in my hands. “That’s what nobody seems to care about! I can’t go anywhere on my own, and I’m living in constant fe--”

“You can’t go anywhere alone because of this!”

Gem’s voice was sharper than I think I’ve ever heard it before; her cheeks were flushed and she seemed mad-- the pointing of the massive, sauce-and-veggie covered wooden spoon didn’t really soften the mood either. I stumbled backwards a bit as she railed on, looking back down, aggravated, at the food below. “I don’t understand how someone who’s already almost had to go to the hospital because of birds can just… delude themselves into thinking this isn’t extremely dangerous.”

“Girlfriend, I love you,” she continued, simmering down like the stirfry while shaking her head, “but your attitude really sucks. I don’t know what we need to do to get it through to you that we’re just trying to keep you safe, and just helping you through this. I know you didn’t ask for this, but neither did anyone else, and I really think you should appreciate at least Sheridan more, if not everyone else, for what you’re making them go through, even though-- yes-- your thing is still hard, despite all the work we’re doing to make it easier on you.”

You’re not making it easier, though, I wanted to argue. A part of me was red hot and ready to melt through straight to the floor, wanting to just scream that nothing was easier when I was terrified every day of my normal life that I’d somehow have to be this again; wanting to scream that nothing was easier when I was constantly being grabbed and dropped and moved places against my will when I was perfectly fine doing those things on my own.

I wanted to argue my point that I never said it wasn’t dangerous, that was my point! That I can’t go anywhere or do anything because of this! And somehow that got turned on me?! 

But for all the utterly explosive rage I knew was in me, somewhere, there was a massive blast-resistant door that just said ‘she’s right’.

She’s right: None of them asked for this.

She’s right: It could be so much worse than this.

She’s right: None of them have to do anything, so I should be glad they’re doing something.

Gem started to get that sad, apologetic look all over her again, and her guilt just made me feel more guilty as she went to the rice cooker and started plating dinner. I sulked in the cupboard, hugging my stupid corgi-sized rock to myself as my rage kept trying to counter all of those blast-resistant points. 

She’s right, but: It’s just a decent thing to do to help a friend in need. It’s what I would do for them.

She’s right, but: Just because it could be worse doesn’t automatically make this better, somehow.

She’s right, but: That something probably shouldn’t hurt or humiliate or upset me so god damn much.

“Here.” Her voice was soft again, and the hurt parts of me were craving it; desperately wanting to latch onto that comfort. She was good at that. I knew she was good at that. “Sorry I forgot to give it to you sooner. Give me a minute to cut this up smaller and we’ll go eat, ok girly?”

I nodded as she slipped the phone in, noticing a little too late as she let it go, leaning it against the back of the cupboard that it was her phone, not mine; we had the exact same phone, and similar colored cases.

I was about to give her the heads up, when a notification flashed on her screen; a message from Cal, in that private group chat they had told me about.

A group chat named: Problem Solvers

Guess that’s all I really am, in the end.

I swiped to clear the notification and waited for the screen to go back to black, and tried to keep myself level.

“Hey, uh, this is your phone,” I said, and the look of vague panic that came over her for even a second really just kind of set all of my doubts and worries in stone.

“Oh,” she said, reaching in and hauling it out, swapping it with mine quickly. I punched in my lockscreen code and pretended not to notice her immediately checking the notifications before she shoved it back in her pocket. “Sorry about that, I always forget how similar they are.”

“Me too,” I said, and started slowly typing ‘massage’ into the reminder widget.

‘Break curse’ was already there.

I swallowed down a lot of bile and shame, and erased it. Slowly, I replaced it with: ‘Solve everyone’s problem’.

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[kennarose1108]

Anthony Bridgerton x Reader !CHILDHOOD ENIMES! !PART 3!

Y/N'S POV

It was a weird feeling. The feeling you felt when you left Anthony on the dance floor, you didn't know what it was. You've never felt it before, especially not towards him. It felt like there were butterflies in your stomach and your head felt dizzy.

You didn't know what it was and you tossed and turned in bed that night and hardly got any sleep as you fought with your feelings with Anthony.

You probably only got a maximum of three hours of sleep last night before your maid woke you up and got you ready for the day. When you came downstairs it was oddly noisy and when you went into the living room you saw your mother and room full of men.

"Um... What's going on...?" You ask. Your mother beams at you and walks over, "All of these men are here to see you." She says with a grin. You were too tired to hide the disgust on your face before you turned and started walking towards the front door. "Where are you going?!" Your mother called out.

"To the Bridgerton's!" You yelled back before leaving and slamming the door behind you.

You walked over to the Bridgerton's which didn't help your tiredness at all. You knocked on their front door and the butler answered and he quickly allowed you inside. "Is Daphne here?" You asked the butler. "No, only Lord Bridgerton." The butler says while folding his hands behind his back.

You sighed, "Anthony's here?" You murmured, he just nodded. "I'll be in the living room, probably napping." You say and you left before getting any acknowledgement from the butler. But not even five minutes after resting in the living room of the Bridgerton's you heard a voice behind you.

"Why are you here?" You sigh at the voice, it was Anthony's. "I'm hiding from my mother and her room full of men." You say with an annoyed roll of your eyes.

You glance at Anthony when he doesn't say a word and you can see his eyes are narrowed like he was upset. "What...?" You murmured. He cleared his throat and walked over to you, "Nothing. Just thinking." He says. "How would you feel about going to the park with me? I need a breath of fresh air and I would like some company." He says while holding a hand out to you so he could help you stand up.

You narrow your eyes, "And what will I get out of this?" You ask. "A lovely stroll with a handsome man." He teases. You stare up at him and he sighs, "Your mother will come looking for you, will she not? If we are gone then she surely cannot harass you any further." He says with a slight smirk on his face.

You glare up and him before sighing dramatically, "I hate it when you Bridgerton's are right." You murmured before taking his hand and he helped you to your feet. You felt a shockwave go through your body when your hands touched, it was different from last night. You quickly pull your hand away and clear your throat, "We must be on our way then." You say while looking down and quickly walking away.

The carriage ride to the park was silent, which you didn't mind... But you could tell Anthony was getting antsy. He was bouncing his leg up and down and glancing back and forth between outside the carriage and at you.

You let out a deep and annoyed sigh before caving in and asking him, "What's wrong?" You ask. "Nothing, nothing..." He murmurs before glancing out the window again before back at you.

"So um... What did you mean last night when you said 'I'm not interested in anyone'?" Anthony asks. "I don't wish to be married." You say while looking out the window.

"Ever?" He asks. "Well, not ever. Just... Not now." You say while playing with your fingers nervously. "You should understand out of everyone Anthony. Before your fiancé, you never wished to marry unless it was out of convenience." You say, finally looking over at him.

He just simply gives you a nod and looks down, like he is uncomfortable. Finally, the carriage stopped and Anthony was quick to get out. You sigh, thinking what you said scared him off and feeling slightly guilty about it as it was a touchy subject.

You went to leave the carriage but stopped as you saw Anthony holding his hand out to you, waiting to help you. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat and took his hand. His touch was delicate but strong, strong enough to keep you up if you fell but delicate of one of a gentlemen.

You stepped out of the carriage and looked up at him, "Thank you... Anthony." You say. You then realized your hands were still holding onto one another's and you pulled your hand away.

You both begin walking in the park. "So... I notice you do not call me 'my lord' or any formalities," Anthony says. "I've known you since we were children Anthony. I will call you as I see fit." You answer with a smirk. He chuckles, "Understood." He nods.

"So... How did you meet Kate?" You ask. "I was courting her sister and our love just... Blossomed." Anthony says. You chuckle, "You were courting her sister? Oh, how typical of you Anthony." He looks at you with a confused look, "'Typical of me'? What does that mean?" He asks. "Just you keeping up your title of a rake." You teased. "A rake?" He says with a small laugh, "I am not a rake... Anymore." He murmured the last part.

You chuckle softly.

You both spent a long time walking, talking, and even sharing a few laughs. You both have never had such a wonderful time with one another. Finally you decided to ask the question you've wanted to ask the entire time...

"What does it feel like to be in love?" You ask. He stops in his tracks and looks at you curiously, "Why are you asking me this?" You stop as well and let out a shaky breath. "I am simply curious..." You lied... You wanted to know if this feeling you had for Anthony was love or just another form of hatred.

He takes in a deep breath and thinks for a moment. "It feels like... Like you can't breathe when they are near." He starts, "Like... You get butterflies whenever you think of them... Butterflies so brutal you can't sleep or eat." He inches closer.

"You long for them. You desire them." Closer... Your breath hitches. "It feels like... The whole world stops spinning when they're there." He was now merely an inch from you. Your breathing was heavy as you stared into his eyes.

"Not to mention the sexual desires you hold for that person..." He whispers and you nearly let out a groan of pleasure. "It's almost suffocating." He murmurs.

You both stand there, your breath heavy and your eyes on each other. "Anthony I..." You start but then a loud crash fills the sky. You both look up and see the sky, just clear and blue a few moments ago, is now grey and cloudy. "I think it's going to-" Anthony was interrupted by another crash and suddenly a downpour of rain pouring on them both.

You gasp sharply, as does Anthony. "Hurry! Under the gazebo!" You yell while pointing across the land. You and Anthony ran to the gazebo and you couldn't help but let out giggles like you were a little girl, so carefree and full of joy. When you both finally made it under the gazebo you can't help but let out a loud laugh. You hunch over slightly and laugh and Anthony watches you in amazement. A big grin appears on his face and he too, starts to laugh.

You both stand there in a fit of laughter before it starts to die down, "Why are we laughing?" Anthony asks. "Because it's so fitting, isn't it? Such a perfect day ruined by lousy weather." You say while shaking off some of the rain off your arms. "I do not think it was ruined. A day such as this one cannot be ruined by such things." He says while getting closer to you.

"It has been a perfect day... Hasn't it?" He asks in a low tone of voice. "Yes... It has." You say with a grin. He slowly reaches forward and tucks some of your wet hair behind your ear, "Even soaked you still look stunning..." He says softly. "Simply stunning..." He whispers.

"Anthony..." You mumble. His hand goes from behind your ear to trailing the side of your jaw. He then cups your cheek gently, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip.

"W... What are you doing?" You ask.

"What I should have done years ago..." He says in a low and soft tone of voice.

He then leans closer...

PART 4

[smoooothoperator]

Beautiful Stranger

Driver! Lando Norris x OC (Lily Barton)

Summer love, strangers to friends to lovers, Greece and Greek mythology references

a/n: I'M BACK!!!! Since I really have free days (finally) I think I'm going to write again, try to make all of you happy with my stories and all of that. I'm super excited with his idea and I hope all of you enjoy it

✨completed✨

Lando Norris, a driver who’s tired of being in the spotlight, decides to have a trip on his own. Summer break is only three weeks, which gives him time enough to relax and disconnect from all the problems.

Lily Barton, an ordinairy girl who does not want to go back to where she’s from. A breath of fresh air to everyone around her. Someone that’s always there for you whenever you need her.

Two strangers meet in a bad way. Three weeks of getting to know each other. Three weeks of forgiving the mistakes that have been made.

Three weeks to… fall in love?

And an even longer time to be back together

01: Way To Fall

02: Need To Know

03: The Name Of The Game

04: It's Now Or Never

05: Lay All Your Love On Me

06: Can't Help Falling In Love

07: Trouble In Mind

08: Shape Of Lies

09: This Love

10: Ready Or Not

11: Begin Again

Epilogue

Extras

Miss Rose's house Greek wedding First pregnancy: Daphne Helen Norris Daphne's first love and heartbreak

taglist

@lestappenloverr @racinggirl @roni-midnights @livster8 @kakorrhaphiphobia @starkeyellow @celestialpierre @ophcelia @msliz @lorarri @ironmaiden1313 @imsorare @mycenterfold @im-an-overthinker @soosheee @karmabyfernando @landoyesrizz @sticksdoesart

[thedeviltohisangel]

I Heard From The Heavens//2

He nodded once, almost imperceptibly, but she noticed. She noticed the way it strained him to look away. She noticed the way he hit the pool balls with more force than necessary. She noticed the way he had to focus on not looking her way more than the game in front of him. Jake noticed that Daphne had blossomed in front of Bradley the moment she had seen him. Noticed that the walls in front of her heart that she had told him scared her spared no chance against the mustached pilot. Noticed she said his name like it was something fucking biblical.

Bradley & Daphne’s Infinite Playlist: What About Love? by Heart

masterlist is my url/writing or on ao3

this was a request to write about daphne and the other pilots. please send more!

The basement of the church was exactly how one might imagine it. Out of data tiled floor, flimsy paneling for the ceiling and lighting that washed out any semblance of life that could’ve been breathed into it. This was the setting for the grief counseling Daphne was currently keeping secret from Bradley. 

“Daphne, how about you start us off this week? Last week, you touched on the notion that your grief might be a cover for some other feelings.” She picked at the cardboard ring around her coffee cup and took a deep breath. Her friend from school had died and Bradley hadn’t been there. She had been sad and lost and alone and she resented him for it. It wasn’t his fault. But she told herself it was sadness over her friend’s passing to cope with the increasing anger she felt for the man she loved and was trying to solve it on her own.

“I think I’m lonely. I think my grief is really anger.”

“Is your anger targeted?” Her eyes flicked around the room. The conversations were meant to be kept inside of these four walls. Nothing scared her more than the idea that they might escape.

“Yes.” The facilitator looked at her like she wanted more but Daphne didn’t budge. She couldn’t verbalize her resentment and anger. There would be no coming back from that.

“I’d like to second something she said. When I lost a family member last year, I used grief to allow myself to act any way I wanted. I used it to amplify other actions or behaviors. It became a fragile shield in a way.” That was Jake. He had been a member of the group before her. Had helped her with the coffee machine at her first meeting. Had jumped in to talk every time the words died in her throat. She smiled at him gratefully as someone else took his words and carried the conversation away from her chair. He smiled back.

----

“Thanks for saving me back there. I should have never verbalized all that last week to you guys instead of the person I’m actually upset with,” Daphne said as Jake poured her a fresh cup of coffee. She had torn the other cup to shreds during the previous conversation. 

“That’s what the group is here for. Maybe it’s good practice so you can tell them,” he said, “Not to pry but sounds like boy problems.”

“My…boyfriend,” she grimaced as the word fell. That word had been the reason she had gotten no sleep the night before.

“Sounds like vinegar coming out of your mouth,” he teased as he took a sip of his own drink.

“Story for a different setting,” she answered. A quick glance at her watch said she needed to get home soon. Her excuse of working late at the office was only going to last so much longer. 

“Let me walk you to your car,” Jake offered with an extended hand. Daphne nodded and led him in the direction of the parking lot, chatting about simple things as they made their way outside. 

“My two cents, Daphne, is that you talk to him. Keeping it inside is tearing you up more than the actual emotion. And if you love him-”

“I do. More than anything,” she interrupted. She couldn’t let the universe think for one second her heart had faltered.

“-then he’ll help you heal,” Jake finished with a smile as they reached her car. “I’ll see you around.” She swallowed as the air between them suddenly felt thick. It made her heart tighten, the way he was looking at her. It was too intimate. Too vulnerable. Too honest. All she could do was nod and look away as the heat of his gaze became too much. Driving home that night, she couldn’t get the weight of his eyes off her skin. Couldn’t get the way his muscles strained as he stopped himself from touching her out of her mind. Couldn’t play her music loud enough to get the words he spoke of acknowledgement to stop them from echoing around her mind. The words she so badly wished she had the courage to say to Bradley but had only said to Jake. And the words he had said back that soothed an ache within her. And the way it was just one more secret she had promised never to keep.

----

Her and Bradley had been two ships crossing in the night for the past week. She had spent every day working herself up to finally talk to him about the lead of emotions sitting in her stomach only for him to get stuck doing extra PT or taking a new candidate on a certification flight or or or. It had only served to exacerbate the exact reason she had been dying to sit and communicate with him. But he had promised he would stick to their plans to meet at the Hard Deck Friday night so here she was, in one of his favorite shirt dresses with orange and purple flowers, nursing a beer at the bar. She was staring into space in the direction of some naval officers playing pool when she felt a towel hit against her arm.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Daphne smiled. Even though the on and off between her father and Penny Benjamin was in an off phase, she had always found her presence to be warm and welcoming. Especially now that she was here with Bradley while he worked to graduate TOPGUN, she could use all the familiar faces she could find.

“Bradley is meeting me here. Haven’t been seeing much of him lately,” she mused. 

“Training must keep him busy,” she offered. Daphne nodded, only imagining the picture of melancholy she was currently painting at the bartop. Did she expect too much of him? Was she not as understanding of this life as she thought she was? Was her mother right all along that it wasn’t worth loving a man who would always love the sky more?

“Must be,” she spoke back without any inflection in her tone.

“Well, well, well, I told you I’d see you around.” Her neck almost cracked from whipping around to see the voice behind her.

“Jake,” then her eyes absorbed his uniform, “you never said you were Navy.” It sounded like an accusation rolling off her tongue. 

“Not part of the program,” he smirked back. “Besides, you’re in a Navy bar.” He leaned on his forearms next to her and signaled for two beers.

“Don’t tell me you’re a pilot,” she groaned as he handed her one of the glass bottles and clinked their necks together.

“Best there is, sweetheart.” This was an entirely new Jake to her. He was self-assured, openly flirtatious and carried himself like the weight of the world on his shoulders was a single feather.

“Hate to break it to you, Hangman, but that seat’s taken.” She doesn’t think Bradley could have had worse timing. If she could crawl inside of her dress and never face the world again, she’d be happy.

“Bradshaw.” Jake’s eyes flicked to Daphne’s and lingered. “This your girl?” 

“More than that,” he replied evenly. Jake, for his part, stayed silent as he took a large swig of his beer and tried to read her expression. It was pleading. Pleading for him to walk away. Forget everything he had ever heard her say at group. Forget that he now connected a live wire.

“Enjoy the night, beautiful.” He winked and followed her wishes by departing. Daphne could finally breathe again.

“You good? If he was bothering you or tried anything-”

“You’ll shoot him out of the sky for me tomorrow?” she smiled as Bradley took Jake’s place and leaned on the bar next to her.

“Something like that.” He leaned in to kiss her hello, her hands interlocking at the nape of his neck to keep him there longer. Life always seemed simpler once they were together. As if the times they were apart allowed the shadows to creep in. “I’ve missed you lately,” he murmured as she let him come up for some air. 

“Me too. I don’t like this distance between us,” she whispered as if it was the most sacred thing. 

“I’ve felt it,” he admitted, all of sudden focusing on her fingers in her lap and twisting them with his. “I never want to let you down.”

“I’ve been letting myself down,” she chuckled as tears began to prick at her eyes. “I’m so lost here.” Moving to North Island has been hard.  Not only had she lost a close friend but Bradley wasn’t around to keep her busy. And everywhere she looked were memories of her parents. Her father, who had distanced himself after a particularly taxing interaction with Bradley last time he visited, and her mother who had grown to hate the man she met here. Bradley had noticed her struggling. Longer nights at work. No more dancing with him in the kitchen. The smallest of tasks exhausting her. He had noticed but he hadn’t wanted to ask. He was scared. Scared that this life wasn’t for her anymore. That he was on the verge of losing the one thing he had left. That was a loss he knew he would never be able to move on from.

“We’re gonna make it better. You and I are gonna fix this. I’ll fix it, I’ll do whatever it takes to make you feel safe here.” She nodded as the tears trickled down her face. “I can’t fucking lose you, Daph.” Bradley quickly pinched his nose to keep his own tears at bay. He hadn’t realized how much he had been keeping locked away himself.

“You won’t. Not ever, Bradley, I promise.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and he pulled her as tightly against him as their rib cages would allow. Over his shoulder, she caught eyes with Jake. He nodded once, almost imperceptibly, but she noticed. She noticed the way it strained him to look away. She noticed the way he hit the pool balls with more force than necessary. She noticed the way he had to focus on not looking her way more than the game in front of him. Jake noticed that Daphne had blossomed in front of Bradley the moment she had seen him. Noticed that the walls in front of her heart that she had told him scared her spared no chance against the mustached pilot. Noticed she said his name like it was something fucking biblical.

And when Daphne held tightly to Bradley’s arm as they walked to his Bronco later that night, Penny noticed another pilot’s eyes trailing after them. And she knew heartbreak when she saw it.

[loloinlove]

The Ever After - Chapter 6

Howdy.

The 6th chapter for TEA is out, and you can read it here.

So I have a treat for y’all.

Several people asked for Anthony’s POV. It’s here, though I do gotta warn you that the start of this chapter goes over the attempted assault. It’s not graphic, but it’s there. It won’t be the only discussion about it throughout the story and I promise to put a warning in any chapter that does more than gloss over the topic.

As a consolation for this, the chapter is a little bit longer than usual.

If you are uncomfortable reading this type of content, please take care of yourselves and read with caution or skip it entirely. I’ll put a short summary in the comments as well.

It was late in the evening at whatever soirée they had been invited to, and Anthony wasn't nearly as drunk as he would have liked.

He knew it wasn't proper to be as intoxicated as he wanted to be, not outside of a public house at any rate, but he couldn't help it. His mother had been bothering him all evening to dance with any number of unmarried ladies, and he hadn't the patience to listen to each girl say the same thing over and over. He knew that their mothers probably taught them to say whatever they thought he would like to hear, and he didn't blame the girls themselves, but it was tiring nonetheless. After Daphne's marriage, his mother thought it was high time that he seriously considered taking a wife, but he just hadn't felt any sort of ...anything when speaking with the eligible Ladies of the Ton. He had met with most of the girls from the best families over the course of the last several weeks, though he had avoided the Cowpers entirely. He was fully aware of how awful the girl was, and there would be no doubt that she would make his family miserable.

His mother spoke as if she and his father had shared an instant spark, that they had just known and so far he hadn't found anything like that yet and though he had never told anybody, it was that feeling that had been what he was looking for. He knew he had to be more exacting than most when looking for a potential bride, as the woman he married would be the new Viscountess and would need to be able to handle the role with grace and a certain level of sophistication that so far he had found incredibly lacking in the women he had been unfortunate enough to speak to from the last several events that he and his family had attended.

It was most disappointing.

At any rate, he was well tired of watching people twirl each other around the dance floor and decided to take a walk in the gardens, hoping the fresh air would help soothe at least some of his terrible mood so that he would be able to get through the rest of the evening. It definitely helped that he would be able to pull out his emergency flask and take several generous sips whilst walking about.

It wasn't an especially long walk to get to the gardens, though he also didn't take his time getting there once he had managed to slip out of the ballroom. He wasn't in the mood for inconvenient interruptions or any sort of conversation at the moment, and so in his haste and certainly with his thoughts elsewhere, he had managed not to hear the commotion happening until he was upon it.

At first, he thought he was seeing a couple clearly in the throes of passion and had resolved himself to turn around a leave them to it, but then a pained yelp reached his ears and he knew that he had been mistaken.

He'd run over there before he could even begin to think about what he was doing and pulled the man off of whoever it was that he was assaulting. He stood there chest heaving, hands up and ready for a fight when he saw that it was Nigel Berbrooke laying on the ground, breathing much harder than Anthony was, though that might have been because Anthony had thrown him directly onto his back knocking the breath out of Berbrooke entirely. When it seemed as if the odious man would be on the ground for a couple of minutes at least, he went to check on the poor woman who was still shaking and crying in an alcove created by the hedgerow. There were probably several more throughout the garden, and he had to be thankful that Berbrooke was lazy as well as an idiot, otherwise, he wasn't sure he would have heard anything at all.

He approached the girl slowly and spoke in the same low soothing voice he used with Hyacinth when she had terrible nightmares.

"My name is Viscount Anthony Bridgerton. I'm not going to hurt you. If you'll let me I'd like to help you," He said, making sure he walked loudly enough that his footsteps would be heard, so as not to startle her too much since she had not turned to face him. She said nothing to him in response, and when he was near enough, he reached out to gently touch her shoulder.

The moment he did so, she flinched violently enough that if it weren't for the leafy wall of the alcove he was sure she would have toppled over, her sobs had quieted somewhat, but the shaking had gotten even worse if such a thing were possible, and she had turned further into the hedge, almost as if to hide within the walls themselves.

Not wanting to frighten her even more, he stepped back just out of reach and decided that calming her down enough to answer him would probably be the best approach.

"Can you tell me your name?" He tried.

No answer.

He had no time to think of what to ask next though, because a pained groan reached his ears, and he remembered that Berbrooke still needed to be taken care of.

Anthony felt his heart and his mind warring with each other and knew that he needed some help. He couldn't leave her alone with Berbrooke, God only knew what the man would do given half a chance, but then he couldn't just leave her alone entirely either. If someone else should discover her-

Anthony couldn't stand to think about it.

Men generally didn't care too much about a woman's health or concerns, as Berbrooke had just proven, and so he tried to puzzle his way out of the situation at hand.

Looking at the man still laying on the ground, mumbling about revenge and other unpleasant things, Anthony decided that the woman's safety was paramount, and chose to do the easiest thing.

He hauled Berbrooke up by the lapel with one hand and brought the other one back to punch him square in the eye, knocking the man out in an instant, much like Daphne had a year ago. It was with grim humor that Anthony had this thought as he turned back to check on the woman now silently shaking behind him, who still hadn't uttered a single word since he had arrived.

She was still hunched over, arms curled around herself, and though her dress had fallen back into place, Anthony could still see her underthings, which looked to have been roughly torn off, were currently laying on the ground near her ankles. Her hair was hanging loose and limp around her shoulders, and the rest of her dress was dirty and askew with little rips and tears in it. It was a gruesome sight to behold, and he knew it was much worse from the woman's perspective because she had clearly been violated in some way, but he could not tell how far Berbrooke had gone or if she would need further looking at by a doctor.

With Berbrooke knocked out and lying over on the ground Anthony decided the best course of action would be to find his Mother and Benedict, or Simon, as quickly as possible and to have them come out to the gardens. They would try to save the girl's reputation as much as possible, which meant they would need to take care of Berbrooke as well.

Anthony didn't think he had ever been ever as disgusted and appalled and outraged when he realized what was happening. He knew Berbrooke had tried something similar with his sister the year prior, and he had taken leave of London quite hastily after Whistledown had reported on his bastard child, but Anthony hadn't really thought he would try anything again. Now that he had though, he would absolutely be making sure that the vile man laying on the ground in front of him wouldn't be able to do anything to anyone ever again.

"I need to leave for a few minutes," Anthony announced, more for his own benefit than hers as she still hadn't said anything to him. He wasn't even sure if she could hear him, but he continued on nonetheless, "He's unconscious for now, but I shall return with help."

He waited a moment or two, and when she hadn't turned around or said anything he hastily made his way out of the garden and back into the party. He'd quite forgotten that it was even going on, but in a moment had schooled his features to be unreadable, and went to search through the seemingly endless throngs of people to find his mother and Benedict. He knew enough about himself to know that he was woefully unqualified to handle the situation with as much delicacy as it required. His mother had a naturally soothing demeanor about her that seemed to put everyone at ease, and he would need to rely on it, as well as her discretion, to see the situation resolved, whatever it may require.

He spotted Benedict first, after roughly five or so minutes searching, and was near frantic by the time he had reached his brother and told him to grab their mother and head to the garden on the east side of the manor. He gave Benedict a squeeze on his arm and made turned right back around to head outside to see if the woman had calmed down any further.

It was a testament to Benedict's faith in him that there was no further questioning, not that he'd any plans to answer them if there were. He calmly made his way back outside, brushing off several women who attempted to waylay him. He knew he would probably need to make apologies at the next ball they attended, but it was a small price to pay and he had much more important things to worry about at the moment.

He had no trouble finding the little garden alcove, though at first he could not see the woman, and his pulse began to beat with panic, which abruptly stopped when he saw her sitting on the ground, facing Berbrooke, who was still lying on his back. The idiot was moving around a little, probably finally waking up from the rather abrupt nap Anthony had made him take, but he didn't much care for Berbrooke's health or safety and gave the man a firm kick in the ribs on his way to the woman he had left behind to find help.

The girl's head was lowered, and in the moonlight he could see that she had dark hair, which had been pulled further down to fall around her shoulder, almost touching the ground in its length. Other than moving to sit on the ground, it seemed as if she hadn't moved since he had come back, though she was no longer sobbing and shaking.

He once again walked toward her loudly, hoping that she would be less prone to startle if she could hear his approach, and when he was close enough that he was barely out of reach, he tried speaking to her again.

"I'm unsure if you heard me earlier, but I've returned, and my mother will be along shortly, she could probably help you better than I can. Could you tell me your name," He asked, not really expecting a reply. He wasn't even sure she had heard him coming back, or even saw him standing in front of her.

He didn't blame her.

He slowly lowered himself to her level, and she tensed as if expecting a blow.

He reached out slowly to touch her, hoping this time that he could get a less volatile response, though he wasn't sure which part of her he should touch, not knowing how she would react.

He was saved from having to make the decision when he had only reached halfway when suddenly his hand was knocked away and the woman scrambled to get away from him.

In her haste, she ended up struggling with the remains of her torn underthings, which she had gathered around her, and he was able to see her face quite clearly. His heart fell to the depths of his feet and a sickness curled inside his stomach licking at his insides, begging to be let out.

Before him sat Penelope Featherington.

He had no time to process this fact because at the moment he realized who was in front of him, Benedict arrived with his mother in tow, and they were heading over quite quickly. Anthony sat on the ground, ruining his trousers, though he hadn't a care for them, at least not in the face of the fullness of the situation that was pushing at him.

His mother arrived first, rushing toward Penelope who didn't even seem to recognize her, which was simply astounding to Anthony. His mother loved Penelope like she was one of her children, not to mention that Penelope had been a fixture in their lives for years.

"Penelope darling, can you talk to me? Tell me what happened," Violet said, frantically looking Penelope over before trying to check her for what Anthony assumed were wounds it would not be proper for him to look at. 

"She isn't speaking. Anthony, why isn't she speaking?" His mother's voice floated over to him, snapping him out of the small daze he had been in.

"She hasn't spoken a word since I- since I arrived. She didn't seem to hear me or recognize me when I left to get you and Benedict," Anthony answered, trying to focus on being as helpful as he could.

"You left her alone with him? Anthony Bridgerton what were you thinking," Violet hissed, making sure to keep her voice low so as not to startle Penelope.

"I knocked him out first, I'm not a complete idiot, Mother," Anthony replied, keeping his voice low as well.

"No, just a barbarian," She said curtly, before going back to continue checking Miss Featherington over.

 He felt sick watching and turned his head away, looking toward Benedict who was standing over Berbrooke his face a stony mask of anger, which Anthony had only witnessed a few times before. It was not at all pleasant, and he was very fortunate that he'd never had that look pointed his way.

Berbrooke was still on the ground, barely managing to stay awake, which Anthony was sure couldn't be good for him, but at the moment he didn't rightly care for how Berbrooke was doing and thought that the man could rot in the deepest pits of Hell for what he'd done.

He stood up once more and motioned for Benedict to join him just a few paces away, and together the two of them made a plan for getting Penelope out of the gardens and back to Bridgerton House without being seen, as well as what to do with Berbrooke.

Anthony had voted to take him to the docks and toss him into the water after tying something sufficiently heavy enough to weigh him down.

Benedict, being the sensible one for once, vetoed the idea entirely and offered to get a footman to fetch a couple of Bow Street Runners to collect Berbrooke. What happened after that, they didn't really care and would only get involved when it came to Penelope.

Violet, though she'd managed to get Penelope to stand, still hadn't been able to get her to talk at all either except for small noises of pain and discomfort that felt like a blow to Anthony each time he heard one. They agreed that it would be best to get the Runners after they had taken Penelope home, so Violet helped make her as presentable as possible, and they slowly made their way out of the estate's gardens.

It didn't take long at all for Anthony to procure their carriage, and soon they were in the slightly cramped space and heading toward their home. It wasn't a comfortable ride, the cobblestones making the carriage rock quite a bit, but Anthony didn't care as his thoughts were focused on something else entirely.

Namely, what had and would happen to the youngest Miss Featherington daughter once the night was over.

When their carriage arrived at Bridgerton House Anthony was the first one out and set to directing the staff to have rooms and a bath prepared and a doctor summoned to take a look at Miss Featherington. He was sure there were other things she needed that he wasn't thinking about at the moment, but they would have time to figure that out later.

His mother followed, quickly leading Penelope into the house and upstairs while Anthony finished instructing the staff on what to do. He had several people he would need to talk to before he went to bed, and he would have to send a note to his sister summoning her to Bridgerton house in a day or two once Penelope seemed able to handle company again. He recognized that it would take more than a few days for her to be anywhere close to alright, but he thought that seeing Eloise might help, so he sent for a footman to bring her to him.

His sister had not been in attendance at that evening's ball, claiming that she'd had a headache, but he thought she might have had some insight into what was going on with Berbrooke and Penelope, and he hoped that she would be brought to his study as soon as possible. When that was taken care of he grabbed two glasses and a bottle of fine whiskey and poured a generous amount in both of them. He tossed his back quickly and shook himself out to try and release all the tension in his body and when that didn't work as well as he had hoped, he poured himself another glass, but this time sipped it slowly. He would be having a rather difficult conversation ahead of him and while he would need some level of fortitude when dealing with his sister, he could not afford to have the conversation with less than a clear head.

Besides, he could get drunk after.

It was only a few minutes later when Eloise came rushing through his office door rattling off several questions about their family's safety, and Anthony was not looking forward to telling her what had happened.

"Eloise, please calm down. Benedict and Mother, and everyone else is alright. Please take a seat. I need to discuss something rather serious with you," He said, pointing to the chair across the desk from him.

She sat down, clearly bursting with more questions that he didn't plan on answering just yet.

"Has Mother spoken with you about the- the...well, this is rather more difficult than I thought it would be, maybe I should-"

"Spit it out Anthony, has Mama spoken to me about what?"

"Marriage, and the act that leads to having children."

Eloise's eyes grew rather large, though she seemed to have no idea what he meant, and Anthony knew he would have his work cut out for him, and not for the first time he wished that he wasn't the Viscount.

"No, she hasn't, and when I asked her about it last season she refused to say anything else then either. She called it an 'improper topic of conversation' though," Eloise answered, giving Anthony one of her hard stares.

"I won't go into very great detail, as Mother would skin me alive, but I do need to tell you some things, and well it will be rather embarrassing I think, so have a drink and please don't interrupt me until I'm finished."

Eloise gave a hasty nod, worried about why Anthony seemed to be even more serious than usual. She grabbed her drink, taking a sip before wrinkling her nose at the taste and focusing her attention on Anthony.

When their conversation was over, both of them were entirely red in the face and couldn't look each other in the eye, but Anthony had a feeling that would change once he told her about Penelope.

"So that is what everyone is worried about then. I can definitely see why people care about it so much if what you've told me is true, but I know you did not call me out of bed at such a late hour to tell me this as it certainly could have waited until tomorrow, so tell me what is going on," She said firmly, still looking off to the side of the room where the bookshelves covered the wall on one side.

"You are right. Ordinarily, I would not have told you at all, except that Daphne said Mother's explanation was severely lacking, and I needed you to know this to understand what I have to tell you," Anthony said, pouring himself another small glass.

"Anthony, you're worrying me, what has happened?"

Anthony sighed and stood up to walk over to his window, staring out into the darkness, wishing it was someone else in his place.

"Earlier, I told you that the marital act is something that both people should want to participate in, and that is still true. Unfortunately, there are men out there who do not care about whether the woman in question is accepting of his advances and forces himself upon her anyway. It is painful and terrifying and not something I would wish for any woman to experience."

Here Anthony hesitated, trying to find the right words, but feeling like he was failing miserably. For once Eloise didn't ask any questions and continued to wait for him to gather his thoughts.

"Earlier this evening, I left the ballroom to get some fresh air and headed out to the gardens. When I arrived, I heard someone yell and I went to investigate. There was a woman being attacked in this way, and I was able to pull him off her and found that it was Lord Berbrooke."

"We knew he was an awful person, but what does this have to do with why I'm here," Eloise replied, starting to sound irritated.

"Because... because the woman he attacked was Penelope," He said gently, heading over toward where she sat, frozen still in the chair. He leaned against the front of his desk, watching as her face went through a range of emotions. No doubt she was sorting through her thoughts, so he just waited patiently until she was done. He'd learned his lesson on interrupting Eloise before she was ready to share what she was thinking and had no wish to relearn it.

"What- I-I mean, what will this mean? For Penelope. You said that- that if people, especially an unmarried woman, was caught like that then they would- they... Anthony! You can't mean for her to marry him. Not after everything he's done. That man is a monster and you can't do that to her!"

Eloise was standing by the time her outburst was over, chest heaving, looking ready to fight Napoleon himself, later, he would be thankful that Penelope had found such a load friend in Eloise, but for the moment, they had other things to worry about.

"Eloise!" He snapped, losing a little of his patience. He felt guilty about it immediately and reached out to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, which she shrugged off immediately.

"Eloise," He started again, softer this time, "I know Penelope is very important to you, and a terrible thing has happened to her, but I promise, I will do whatever I can to keep her safe."

"Anthony, you can not tell her Mama."

"What do you mean? I can't not tell the Lady Featherington that her daughter was attacked. I-"

"No! You do not understand. He was- he's been calling on her for the last several weeks. Lady Featherington arranged it all and has mostly kept it quiet. She knows how awful he was to our family, to Daphne especially, and she does not seem to care one whit about Pen. You can not tell her Mama. She would only insist they get married straight away. Please, Anthony, don't let that happen. I'll never ask for another book again, so long as she doesn't end up as Lady Berbrooke."

By the time she was done speaking, Anthony could see the tears gathered in his sister's eyes, and his heart ached because he could not see a solution to their problems. With Penelope's father dead and no older brothers of her own, she was at the mercy of her Mother, and everyone knew that Portia Featherington cared more about climbing the social ladder than anything else in the world. He could not understand how Berbrooke had even convinced the woman of his suitability, especially after the previous season's scandals, but that had no bearing on the situation at the moment. He needed to find a way to keep Penelope safe from Berbrooke, and her own Mother if need be.

"I promise that I will do all I can to protect Miss Featherington, Eloise. You have my word. Has she mentioned anything else to you about it?" He asked, looking at Eloise, who had an empty glass in one hand and the other on her hip.

She sat down once more and began to fidget with her hands, a habit he had noticed some years earlier as a sign that she was anxious.

"Not much," Eloise said, "Just that she did not want to, but her Mama would not listen. And that she said some pretty awful things to Penelope, which isn't at all unusual."

It was possibly the worst kept secret of the Ton that Lady Featherington disdained her youngest daughter. He'd never understood why, because out of the entire family, Penelope seemed to be the only one with any sense to her, which Anthony had always admired.

"I called for the Bow Street Runners to have Berbrooke seen to and they'll keep him busy for a while yet. I'll speak with them tomorrow, and have them see what information they can gather, but for now, go join Penelope in your old rooms. Mother is with her, and possibly the doctor as well- if he's arrived, but I'm sure she would benefit from having you at her side."

"She is here? And you are just now telling me? Why didn't you say anything before?"

Anthony let out another sigh and prayed to God for strength.

"Because she is injured, Eloise. I can assure you that no matter how close you two are, she would not have wanted you to see her in the state she was in. I ordered a bath for her and sent for the doctor to look her over. You may go see her, but if you distress her further, I will not be pleased. Understood?"

Anthony watched as Eloise set down her empty glass and stood to leave his office, looking more subdued than he had seen her in a long time, and it was odd. He didn't like seeing his family upset, but at the moment he had work to do. He continued to draft several letters throughout the night, stopping only when his had cramped to the point that writing became too painful, and by the time he was done, he was exhausted in every way that he could think of.

He thought about what the next steps would be the next morning. There would definitely be a trip to his solicitor's office, and several other colleagues of his, because as Anthony had worked through the night, he had begun to craft a story that he thought could save both Miss Featherington and her reputation. He hadn't lied when he had told Eloise that he would do anything he could for Penelope. The only hitch in his plan might have been from Penelope herself, but he decided to deal with that when the time came.

He would never regret coming to Penelope's aid, though he did regret that she had experienced something so terrible, and when he was finally able to fall into his bed for a few short hours of rest, he found that sleep was to elude him that night. He tossed and turned, trying to make himself comfortable, and by the time the first rays of light peeked over the horizon, he was no closer to being able to sleep than when he had first lied down.

Accepting his fate, and knowing that the world would not wait for him to get decent sleep, he made his way out of bed, got dressed, and headed to the kitchens to get something to eat, because the day was going to be long and incredibly busy for him.

[lilacwineandthesinkingsun]

Bejeweled - II.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x f!reader

Masterlist | Part I.

-But did you think about it Eloise? What if Anthony falls in love with her? YOu have to admint they would make a beautiful pair! - teased Benedict, making Anthony sigh and Eloise roll her eyes as she scoffed.

-Our brother? Falling in love? Do you hear yourself brother? I also think that (Y/N) is much too sophisticated and intelligent for our brother's needs. Even more so as she is not easily fooled.

Their banter was cut short when the footman came in announcing the arrival of your family. As you stepped in behind your parents, Eloise jumped to hug you, only waiting for you to drop a small curtsy before sweeping you away to the gardens. You glanced briefly at Anthony, a small smile appearing on your lips when he beamed at you, bowing a little, as if it was a secret.

-I am terribly sorry Lady Bridgerton! - you shouted as Eloise tugged on your arm.

-El, el, slow down. - you asked her breathless. - why are we running again?

-Benedict teased me all morning that i will lose you to Anthony. He seemed to have quite taken a liking to you at the ball.

You stopped and chuckled. But then you saw that she didn't joke, so you had to compose yourself.

-Umm.. i am sorry. - you said as you fought the laugh wanting to escape you. - I don't think that it is anything more than baseless teasing El. I am way way lower than any title that would be fitting for a vicount, not mentioning my *cough* moderate dowry. Even if those wouldn't be a problem you forget he wanted to dance with you. I was merely saving him from the ladies, and you from dancing with your brother. - you smiled at her - i assure you the vicount will not try to court me Eloise. I might not even marry this season.

-You better not. - she threatened before she sat on the swing, you following her smiling. Then you fell into the comfortable silence of listening to her talking about someone called Lady Whistledown. It was well into an hour when your head shot up.

-She wrote about you and your family too in the last issue. Did you read it?

-What? No, i didn't know anything like that existed. Do you... do you have a copy perhaps?

-Oh yes, it is in my room, come. - she held out her hand for you to take then she ran again. Wherever you two went giggles followed. Lady Bridgerton was delighted to see such a blooming friendship and such cheerfulness, happiness in their home. It was nice to finally see the house lively again. Whenever Anthony saw you he smiled as well. It was the smallest of smiles, but it never seemed to escape his mother's or Benedict's eyes. Perhaps if Daphne was here she would even talk about it by now. He felt somethng inside whenever he set eyes on you. He had to admit you were a breath of fresh air.

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

-So dearest, what do you think of Lady (Y/N)? - asked Lady Violet.

Anthony looked up from the newspaper for a moment, before continuing.

-She may be a good influence on Eloise regarding of marriage.

-And how was your dance with her?

-It was pleasant mother. What are you trying to say? - his eyes shot to his mothers as Eloise tried to sink into the sofa, and Benedict smirked.

-Nothing, nothing, i was just thinking about how beautiful of a pair you two would be..

-MOTHER! - Yelled out Eloise, standing up from the sofa. -She is my best friend. She is too pretty, and intelligent for the likes of him and i refuse to give her up to him. - she stomped.

-What if they fall in love my dear? - asked their mother of her.

-I am not looking for a love match mother, i merely want to marry out of my duty to this family. - Anthony stated before kissing the top of Eloise's head and leaving.

-Thank you, - he heard Eloise say after he left.

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

In the following weeks you and your family spent plenty of time with the Bridgertons, and now it was time for another ball. You and Anthony kept stealing glances at eachother, but never talked.

Yet, when you stepped foot in the ballroom, he found himself mesmerized. He could not take his eyes off of you.

After his dance with you, more and more gentlemen seemed to want to court you. And you were polite, you promenaded with them, but none of them seemed to catch any of your attention. They were quite boring. As if they all had some kind of handbook on how to act around ladies. It was almost too boring.

Anthony saw you dancing with Mr. Langley, as you mouthed a save me to Eloise, only for her to giggle in return.

He smirked to himself . WHen the dance ended he saw some of the men wanting to walk up to you. He knew them all too well, and he wanted better for you. So he walked up, despite Eloise protesting.

-Lady (Y/n), may i have this dance? - he asked, effectively making the other men flee.

-It would be my honor my lord. - you curtsied.

When the dance started he smiled at you and you suddenly felt shy. Vulnerable under his gaze.

-May i ask why did you asked me for a dance my lord?

-Well, ertainly not to please my sister. - he chuckled. It was a part in the dance when your back was pushed to his front, before he twirled you around to land in the same position again. It gave him an opportunity to whisper the truth into your ear.

-I know them all too well. I would rather upset my sister by dancing with you then to let you fall to the wolves.

Your breath hitched, and when you were face to face with him again, his smile fell, a gaze replacing it, it was so intense, you foundyourself locked in it.

-Thank you for your consideration my lord. - you said as the dance ended and you started to back out from the dancefloor.

Eloise all but kicked her brother.

-What was that?

-Would you rather have her marry Langley or Dankworth? I am merely doing my duty, saving her from terrible marriages. - he said looking at you as you conversed with the new Lord Featherington.

-Oh no, Lord Featherington now? Brother you need to save her! - Panicked Eloise. Anthoy chuckled at her sudden change of mind.

-What would you have me do sister? - he asked with a smirk.

-Dance with her or something. We cannot let this happen. - she said shoving her brother towards you. Anthony walked up, joining the conversation.

-The lady looks quite parched, Mr. Featherington would you be so kind and bring her some refreshments?

-Certainly Vicount Bridgerton. - with that he left.

-Thank you my lord. - you said in a whisper. as he offered his hand to ask you for a walk around the garden, your mother chaperoning you.

-Eloise made me save you this time.- he said with a smile.

-Eloise? Is she ill ? - you asked not quite believing.

-Oh i merely highlighted the kind of men that were around you. I think she is approving of me being around you my lady as long i do not marry you.

-That would be a shame, wouldn't it? - you joked around. - I am glad you did not ask me for another dance. I believe in the next issue of Lady Whistledown, i would already be your betrothed. oh the scandal. - you chuckled to yourself, and he couldn't help but follow along.

-How are you this evening my lady? - he asked softly after some time.

-I have to say, i am grateful for your company. The men were absolutely insufferable. WHen you come of age, do you get a handbook of some sort? - he snorted at the question.

-No, not that i know of, why?

-I am quite certain they did. They all ask the same questions, and to mine they all give the same boring answers. I feel as if i am talking to machines, not people. Not to mention the amount of times they had stoped on my feet during dances.

His eyes widened, then he smiled down at you softly.

-These seems to be the very same problems i have with the young ladies. It seems as if i am only able to converse with you, and your dancing skills are certainly the best among the ladies.

You were thankful for the gentle light of the lantherns and the moondlight for the low light they provided, so he could not see the redness creeping up your neck, making it's way to your cheeks.

-I must say you are a wonderful dance partner as well my lord. - you said to him. - it is quite pleasant to know that someone out there is keeping my intentions in mind, without ulter motives. Your sisters are quite lucky. - you admitted.

-Would you think the ton forgot that we had already danced tonight? - he asked of you, looking towards the ballroom.

-I believe most of them did my lord. - you answered, silently yearning for another dance with him. If dances and walks were all you're ever gonna get, then you'll cherish them all the more.

-Then would you honour me with the last the my lady?

-Certainly my lord. - you blushed as you took his outstretched hand. WHen you went back inside your mother joined Lady Violet and Benedict. Eloise was on the dancefloor with their brother Colin.

-Is that Lady (Y/n) and Anthony? - asked Benedict.

-For the second time tonight i believe. - smirked Lady Violet to your mother.

The world seems to stop as you danced. Suddenly there were noone else around you except for the musicians, as you gazed into eachother's eyes with soft smiles. The steps came to both of you as he lef you effortlessly through the dancefloor. As if this dance was all you ever knew. His hand on your waist, yours on his shoulder, his scent enveloping you as yours him. You knew there was no going back, but also knew you had to distance yourself after this dance, cause letting this develop further would only cause you pain and heartbreak.

When the dance ended you curstyed and abruptly left. Your first instinct was to find Eloise and ran to the gardens, so that's what you did.

-WHat happened? DId he say something? - she asked worried.

-No he was the perfect gentleman... i just.. i needed to get out of there.

-You can tell me you know.. - she hugged you.

-There is nothing to tell El. We seem to enjoy this time together. But that is all that's ever going to be, it is all that there ever could be. I shall quit it while i am ahead. Perhaps i could still find an eligible man to marry. More... more on my family's level. - you confessed.

So when your father recieved an invitation to a picnic from the Bridgertons, you acted as if you hurt your leg while riding your horse, just so you could stay home, while your parents went.

Anthony and Eloise looked at eachother. Anthony with sadness and a slight disappointment, while Eloise looked at him with pure anger. When he asked her what was the matter as they were promenading, leaving their mother behind Eloise couldn't keep silent anymore.

-You are the reason she did not came.

-Do not speak nonsense sister.. I believe her father told us that she hurt her ankle while riding a horse. - he stated.

-You cannot see it can you. You danced with her twice on one ball. Gossip will follow. You are walking with her, complementing her, shooing her suitors whom you do not deem acceptable, all while you both know that even if you'd really have the intention to marry, you would never choose her, cause her title is way lower than yours. - she cried - and now i have lost my best friend cause of you. - then she ran inside the house. Your parents and Lady Violet looking after her, then at Anthony questioningly. Two weeks later, as you had not attended any social outings, your parents decided to invite the Bridgertons over for dinner. You had been sat beside Eloise, Anthony in front of you.

Eloise and you fell into a conversation as you felt Anthony's yes boring into you. When it became too much you stood up abruptly, excusing yourself, the cause: sudden headache. Eloise noticed her brother all but pouting at you., so she kicked him under the table. After dinner everyone went out to the gardens to enjoy the summer night's air. Anthony took the opportunity to find your room. Not entering, but knocking gently, hoping to talk to you.

And that is what you did. You conversed through the closed door.

-You should not be here my lord.

-How could i not when you've been avoiding me for weeks.

-You should be busy finding a wife my lord.

He sighed.

-I'll leave after you've told me the reason of your avoidance. - he asked quietly, pressing his palm to your door.

-I have to be honest with myself my lord. Although i enjoy our time together, i know completely well that nothing could come of it. I wish to not waste my time, or the possibility to develop feelings for someone of your kind.

-Of my kind? - he asked from the other side of the door.

-Of your social standing my lord. We both know this leads to knowhere. - he could hear the muted sniffles in your voice.

-If that is what you wish for my lady, i shall not bother you again. - he said, fighting his own tears, as he stormed out, to join the rest of his family. You walked to the window, looking out on the guests and your family, happy, not guessing a single thing of your apparent heartbreak. As undeveloped it was, it hurt all the same.

Dearest readers...

It has come to my attention that a certain vicount only danced with a certain lady in the last ball... let alone, they had danced twice. If that does not scream scandal to you, then this author does not know what will... Especially since Lady (Y/n) was not seen on any social gatherings since then. The reason seems to be an injury, however this author suspects that it is more of a heartbreak. Perhaps the lady came to her senses and finally saw that with her social standing, a vicount, especially one that is a known rake would only want one thing from her? Momentarily fun?

Lady Whistledown

[anashins]

seeds of pomegranates was just 😘👌 so good!! i really loved the overarching theme of not finding someone who completes you but rather understands and accepts who you are as a whole. jaehyun really understood and accepted her the way she came, even if she wasn't as he expected, and in fact, that makes him more intrigued by her. she's only human but she's just as complex as he and the other gods are. that's really beautiful and honestly kind of a breath of fresh of fresh air to read. he never tries to fix her, just to get her to understand that it's okay to have dark parts in her.

i also loved taeyong's addition in this! he was such good friend to both. i saw you mentioned there could be a second part so i'm kind of curious to see if there would be any inclusion/resolve to his situation. (or perhaps a spinoff?? 👀) i also wanna know who is the god of the sea. i tried narrowing it down to who in nct has had blue hair but that was no help considering there's too many. then i started wondering if he's even supposed to be one of the members... maybe i need to reread it, i'm thinking i missed something there... anyways! i really loved seeds of pomegranates and i love your writing. can't wait to see what other stories you have for us!! hope you're having a great week 💕

Hi there, I'm so sorry for the late reply, I was on a business trip. But here I am now! 😌

I love your analysis of their relationship!! 🥹🥰 At first, I wanted to make it look like it was all a coincidence only like in the original story when Hades instantly fell for Persephone upon seeing her. Insta-love is my least favorite trope, but I also wanted to remain true to the original story - and we'll find out they end up right where they need to end 🌝 I always loved the take on Hades and Persephone being THE couple who love each other unconditionally in the godly realms.

So, Taeyong is based on Apollo who was cursed by the god of love to yearn after Daphne, and Daphne was cursed to always reject him, as Taeyong explains this to mc too. The sea god is Yuta! (I'm really bad in describing facial expressions :() He's based on Poseidon, and - Percy Jackson aside - we know what he did to Medusa, so there is that take which I had to form him after. I don't know how I would resolve this one haha

If people are interested, I would consider writing Taeyong first BUT Jaehyun said he would have wanted to be an F1 racer, so I'm currently writing illegal racer!Jaehyun, it hit me out of nowhere 🥵🥵🥵

[alyswritings]

Heat Exhaustion

Request: heya lovely <3 just finished binge reading your Bridgerton oneshots, just wondering if i could at all request an Anthony Bridgerton x daughter reader where she faints and he just panics if its no trouble love your work

Anthony Bridgerton x daughter!reader

Summary: Y/N faints while playing outside.

Warnings: fainting

a/n: thank you for the request! i made it a little angsty. hope you all enjoy!

(gif not mine)

It's a hot day at Aubrey Hall, the sun beaming down from the sky and even just being outside for a few minutes will cause sweat. The doors and windows are all open to let fresh air in and try to keep the house more bearable.

"We want to go play outside." Hyacinth states as her, Gregory, and Y/N stand in the drawing room where Violet, Eloise, Daphne Benedict, and Anthony are.

"Go ahead." Violet tells them.

"Be careful. If it's too hot come back inside." Anthony declares. The three nod before rushing outside.

The three start a game of tag, it only lasting a few moments as running in the heat becomes too much. They find other games and activities to do that don't require too much physical activity.

They're outside for a while when Y/N starts to feel lightheaded and she doesn't feel as energetic.

"Hyacinth, Gregory! Mother wants you inside. I want you in too, Y/N!" Anthony calls from the front door.

"Must we?" Gregory asks.

"It's much too hot out here and you have been outside for almost two hours. Inside." Anthony orders.

The two siblings huff, but start to make their way inside.

"Y/N." Anthony calls, looking at his daughter. He notices her wobble a little. "Are you all right?" He asks, starting to walk over to her.

"I... I think so." Y/N mumbles. She takes a few steps, but has to stop and feels herself wobble more. Y/N's eyes roll into the back of her head and she falls to the ground.

"Y/N!" Anthony yells, running over to her, skidding to his knees next to her unconscious form. Gregory and Hyacinth turn at the yell, their eyes widening when they see their niece on the ground.

"Y/N. Wake up, darling." Anthony says, worry filling his voice. He feels her face, her skin practically burning up. Anthony quickly picks her up and carries her inside.

"Is she okay?" Hyacinth asks.

"I do not know." Anthony says, hurrying into the drawing room.

"What happened?" Eloise asks, seeing her niece's state.

"She fainted. I need water and a rag or two. Or some ice." Anthony states, lying his daughter on the empty sofa. He pushes Y/N's sweaty hair out of her face and makes sure she's breathing.

"Right away, my lord." One of the maids says, rushing out.

"Benedict, send for a doctor." Violet orders her second oldest.

"Of course." Benedict says.

"I'll go with you." Eloise offers, the two rushing out of the room.

"Is a doctor necessary?" Anthony asks.

"It might be. Even just to make sure she'll be all right." Violet tells him. "Take her shoes and socks off." She demands.

Daphne gets up and takes the girl's shoes off and then taking her socks off. Violet grabs Y/N's hair and makes sure none of it is under her neck, resting her brunette locks over the arm of the sofa.

"She's probably exhausted from the heat." Violet says.

The maid returns with a rag full of ice and a bowl of cold water and a washcloth.

"Here you are, Lord Bridgerton." The maid says, putting the items next to him.

"Put the ice pack on the back of her neck." Violet tells him. "Cooling the back of the neck down will work best."

Anthony puts the ice pack on the back of Y/N's neck, making sure none of her hair gets in the way. He wets the cloth and wrings it out, running it gently over Y/N's face and arms as an attempt to help her cool down.

"She shall be fine, Anthony." Violet assures.

"Right." Anthony mutters, not breaking his worried gaze from his daughter.

- - -

The doctor gets back with Benedict and Eloise and he checks over Y/N who is still unconscious.

"We need more ice." The doctor states.

"What? Why?" Anthony asks.

"She's too overheated. Ice will cool her down. We need more ice. We'll move her to her bed so she's more comfortable." The doctor states.

Anthony doesn't question it and picks Y/N up, hooking one hand behind her back and one under her knees.

Anthony leads the doctor and Violet to Y/N's room, soon getting there and lying her on her bed. Violet instructed her kids to stay in the drawing room, knowing that Y/N doesn't need to be crowded right now.

"Put a sheet over her." The doctor orders.

"A sheet? How will that cool her down?" Anthony asks.

"We do not want the ice directly on her, my lord." The doctor states. "Cover her with a sheet up to her shoulders."

Anthony does so and the maids return with ice.

"Cover her in ice." The doctor orders, him and the maids covering Y/N's body in ice. "She shall cool down soon enough."

"When... when will she wake up?" Anthony worriedly asks.

"Soon. Use this ice pack and hold it against her head. Move it around her head and face to help." The doctor tells him, holding out an ice pack.

Anthony takes the pack and sits next to Y/N's head, gently placing the ice pack onto her head. He slowly moves it around her face and the top of her head, leaving it for a few moments in one place before moving it again.

After a bit, the doctor, a few maids, Violet, and now Benedict are standing or sitting around Y/N's room, still waiting for her to wake up. Anthony is still sitting next to her, applying the ice pack to her face and head, his worried eyes never leaving her small frame.

They all hear a small whine, turning to see Y/N waking up.

"Y/N?" Anthony quietly asks, watching her closer.

"Papa?" Y/N mumbles, her eyes slowly opening to find her father next to her.

"Hello, dearest." Anthony gives her a soft smile, relief overwhelming him now that she's awake. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm cold." Y/N states making Anthony softly chuckle.

"Good." He mutters, pressing a light kiss to her forehead.

"I'm thirsty, too." Y/N says.

Anthony nods and looks at the pitcher of water on the table next to the other side of the bed.

"I got it, brother." Benedict assures, walking over. He pours a glass of water and gives it to Anthony.

"Thank you." Anthony tells him. He puts the ice pack down and uses his now free hand to gently lift Y/N's head up a little. He puts the glass to her mouth and lets her take a few sips before pulling the glass away so she doesn't start choking on it.

"More." Y/N mumbles and Anthony gives her some more, stopping when he feels the back of her head push against his hand.

Anthony puts the glass on the table next to him and then grabs the ice pack, reapplying it to Y/N's head.

"She should rest for at least a day. Don't let her do too much." The doctor orders. "You can remove the ice, but if she starts to feel too warm, try to cool her down before it gets too bad."

"Thank you, doctor." Anthony sincerely tells him.

They bid goodbyes to the doctor, Violet walking him out. The maids take all of the ice off of Y/N, letting the girl move around now. Benedict and the maids walk out, leaving the father and daughter alone.

"Are you feeling all right?" Anthony asks.

"Mm-hmm." Y/N nods.

"You get to rest the remainder of the day. And all of tomorrow. We do not need you fainting again." Anthony says.

"You look scared." Y/N notes, noticing the uneasy look in his eyes.

"I was. I was scared for you. Seeing you fall and then you not waking up for a while... it was a little frightening." Anthony tells her. He partly lies by saying "a little" frightening. He was completely and utterly terrified.

"I'm sorry." Y/N says.

"It is not your fault, darling." He assures.

"May I at least stay with you the next couple of days?" Y/N asks.

"Of course you may." Anthony says, smiling softly at her. "As long as you want."

The next two days, Y/N mostly stayed with her father, Anthony fussing over her more than usual in fear of her overheating again.

Taglist:

@glxwingrxse

[hogwartsfirebolt]

cw: canon-typical child neglect

“We will come for you, Potter, you won’t know a single day of peace until you see us again.” Augustus Rookwood spat at Harry’s feet, but seeing as he was tied up, immobilized and held by two of their strongest aurors while six others swept through his house, it was a bit overkill.

“Draco,” Harry said, ignoring the spluttering criminal. “I saw a row of phials in the kitchen, care to give them a look?” He was already looking at something else as he gave the instruction, confident enough in his authority to know Draco would listen.

“Yes, sir.” Draco replied easily, watching his hands as he swept through files. The words turned Harry’s attention back to him — a raised eyebrow, the glimpse of a smile, cheeky, promising. After all, he was sir here, when they worked crime scenes together, and sometimes he was sir at home, too, when it was the last Saturday of the month and they were feeling adventurous.

Draco grinned back. Harry shook his head, the smile still present in his eyes, and went back to looking through Rookwood’s desk.

They’d hunted him for months, countless sleepless nights spent on the case — both of them were slight workaholics and never knew when to stop — endless missteps, near-catches, failed leads. It wasn’t often they got to work cases together anymore, not since Harry had been promoted to Head Auror and Draco put in charge of the Potion Control Department, and so they had given it their all, became the power team they’d been known as back in their Junior Auror Partners days.

It had been fun, seeing Harry in action again, aiding him, leaning on him as well. It had also been exhausting. They weren’t 20 years old anymore.

Finally, it was coming to an end, and it was like seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Draco could already taste the fresh air of the Amalfi coast, where they’d be celebrating their sixth wedding anniversary as soon as they finished the paperwork.

“Here,” Junior Auror Healey said when Draco entered the kitchen, pushing a small cardboard box towards him over the table. “The boss said you had to look this over.”

Draco snorted. “The boss knows I don’t have to do anything. I won’t look if I don’t want to,” he said, already looking because well, he did have to.

“Oh, not the old married couple attitude, please,” came Ron’s voice from the living room, surprising a laugh out of Draco as he popped the cork off a phial with utmost care.

“Shut it, Weasley, I will end you and Harry won’t stop me.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“What is it?” Healey whispered, awed, ignoring Ron completely as she stared at the burgundy fumes emerging from the phial in Draco’s hand. She’d always liked Potions, had asked to apprentice with him when her training ended in the fall. He beckoned her closer.

“Come on, you can smell it — there, what do you smell?”

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “Poppy.”

He hummed. “Yes. It’s a powerful sedative, topped with golden spindle chord and moondust, from the looks of it. This could make someone sleep for years.”

“Honestly, I get why people would buy it. I know a few I’d like to give it to.”

Draco grinned. “Such a Slytherin. Careful, the Gryffindors here will try hard to take that edge off you.”

“That was one time, Malfoy,” came Ron’s voice once again, this time sending Draco and Healey into a full laughing fit.

When they recovered, Draco handed the potion back to her, safely corked. “They all look the same, but I’m not sure about the conditions they’ve been preserved in. Have Newton send them to my lab, will you?”

She nodded. Draco washed his hands and walked back into the house, drying them on the sides of his robe. He passed Ron, who was securing the wands they had confiscated, passed Newton, who was inspecting the spell damage on Daphne’s arm, and went to find Harry in the office where he’d left him, thinking it was time to leave, thinking of the hot shower and warm bedsheets waiting for them at home.

Instead, he found him by the stairs, breathing hard, eyes wide. He stopped, hackles rising, his heart speeding up immediately, attuned to Harry’s uneasiness.

“Harry? What’s wrong?”

“I’m — I’m not sure … can you hear that?” He raised a trembling finger, pointing out a sound. He had goosebumps all over his arms.

Draco blinked, focused, and then he heard it. A light tapping, coming from the cupboard under the stairs, and something softer, sweeter, a hum, almost as if someone were singing to themselves.

“Is that…?”

Harry blew up the door.

The child looked at them, eyes wide, swinging feet tapping against the side of a tiny cot. He looked confused rather than scared, as he sat there in clothes at least five sizes too big for him, messy brown hair covering his forehead. He couldn’t be older than four.

Draco knelt in front of him immediately, hands going up to his shoulders, his face, making sure he was safe. His heart was somewhere near his throat.

“Are you hurt?” He asked, which was the primary thing in the midst of the most disconcerting finding he’d made in his entire career.

The child shook his head. Hesitated. Then, in a sweet, small voice, “Where’s uncle Gus?”

Draco couldn’t breathe. “You’re Augustus Rookwood’s nephew?”

The child nodded.

“Where are your parents?”

“Uncle says they’re dead.”

“W- what are you doing in here? With the door locked?”

“This is my room.” Draco heard Harry make a choked up noise behind him, but didn’t turn to look. “Uncle Gus says I’m not supposed to bother him. Am I — am I bothering him?”

“No, no. Are you — how long have you…” his hands trembled, holding the child’s collar. “Do you live with anyone else?”

The child shook his head again. “Before, yes, but uncle says auntie Gertie is dead too.” There was a pause. Draco heard nothing behind him, but he couldn’t make himself look away from the kid, the hollow cheeks, the small frame. He looked starved.

“What’s your name?”

“Silas.”

“Are you hungry, Silas? When did you last eat?”

“I think — I think breakfast.”

“Today?”

“Yesterday.” He replied. Then, with curiosity, “Who are you?”

It was six in the evening. Nearly two full days had passed since his last meal. Draco closed his eyes, swallowed.

“My name is Draco. We will take you somewhere safe now, is that okay? You’re safe with us.”

Silas’ hazel eyes lit up. “You’re taking me away?” But his joy seemed to last merely a second, his gaze turning to his feet. “But uncle will be mad. I’m supposed to be good. Am I being good?”

“Oh god.” Came Harry’s voice from behind him, fractured. He fell to his knees beside Draco, pulled Silas off the cot, held him by the shoulders. “We’re going to help you, okay? You — you’re coming with us. You don’t have to come back here if you don’t want to, you’re safe, you … I promise. I promise we will keep you safe.”

Silas hugged Harry.

Haunted green eyes met Draco’s over the boy’s shoulder, those eyes he loved more than anything, holding unshed tears that seemed to go unnoticed, the depth of a decades-old pain coming to the surface, fresh once again, renewed.

There were things Harry couldn’t speak about. Hadn’t, not even once.

Now, it was all there in his eyes. A question.

Draco saw two neglected children, clinging to each other by a cupboard under the stairs, and knew what he was being asked. He didn’t need to think about it for even a second when he nodded.

Harry closed his eyes, hugged Silas tighter. “You’re coming with us.”

Written for @drarrymicrofic prompt - "Adoption"

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

Deception [Benedict Bridgerton x Reader]

Title: Deception Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Female!Reader Word count: 4.5k Published: 21 March 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Summary: Violet's constant search for a wife for her second eldest son has become too much for Benedict. The only escape he sees is to ask you to pretend to be courting each other. But how long will it work for with your feelings eating you up from the inside. Bingo: [x] This is part of my Make me feel Bingo Card by @girl-next-door-writes​​​

Square filled: Fake dating

Bridgerton Masterlist | Masterlists

Make me feel Bingo Masterlist

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Benedict Bridgerton was a very capable man. He had a tremendous amount of talent in capturing the real beauty of the world in his drawings. He was confident, but still genuinely kind and caring for his loved ones. He also had a rather playful side to him, a somewhat child-like behaviour, one that the ton would not have appreciated in their society, but Benedict had the privilege to show his real personality to those who loved him, ones that never judged him for who he was.

However, there was one person he felt utterly useless around. When it came to you, he turned into an adorable mess, a clumsy one at that, even stuttering on occasions. Should you have known the reason for his unusual behaviour, it would have brought a rather large smile to your face, but Benedict dared not to reveal his feelings for you.

For someone who has been friends for so long, you both seemed to have found it hard to show your true feelings for one another, as though both of you were clueless. For Benedict it seemed you only spared as much attention to him as a friend would, whilst you thought he was merely looking out for you as a brother figure.

You sat in the ballroom, watching as he grimaced at his mother, who might have slightly forced her second oldest child to dance with one of the many stunning unwed ladies. The one he was forced to dance with however seemed to enjoy Benedict's company. He didn't talk, nor did he look at the woman, still she shined brighter than a diamond in his arms, proud to be so close to such a fine man.

Heaving a heavy sigh, you watched as he held his hand firmly on her back, leading her around the dance floor, making her giggle by just being close to her. Your heart ached at the thought of ever having to give up on him, at the thought of seeing him with another, someone he would choose to love, ignoring to see your longing gazes forgotten on him. How could he have seen, he never dared to look when he felt your eyes on him, nor did you dared to look when he forgot his on you.

Standing up from your chair, you walked towards the terrace, needing fresh air, trying to clear your thoughts as the slightly cool, windy weather stroked your cheeks. You knew you shouldn't have thought of him romantically, but you would have been a fool not to notice the handsome and caring man he has grown into. Watching Lady Bridgerton trying to find a wife to her son hurt both emotionally and physically and you couldn't wait for the season to end, to leave the balls and play-pretend behind you, running away from the inevitable.

"Help me!" you heard his desperate voice, but before you could have turned around, you felt his hand lock around your wrist, gently, but in a haste, dragging you after himself.

"Benedict, what are you doing?" you asked in confusion, trying to understand his chaotic behaviour as he pulled you along, passing corridors by corridors in the gigantic mansion.

"My mother," he sighed as he stopped his steps, breathing heavily. "My mother is becoming—" you waited for him to continue, but he seemed to have been stuck in his thoughts.

"Are you alright?" you asked, frowning at his frozen state, as though he couldn't find the words and his thoughts overruled his actions. You watched his hunched back as he fought to get enough air in his lungs, his eyes focused on a certain point on the marble flooring, completely out of the present. "Benedict!" you called him again, this time firmly, attempting to catch his attention.

"I know it!" he exclaimed, making you jump slightly at his unexpected enthusiasm as a rather wide smile spread across his face.

"What do you know exactly?" you inquired.

"It might sound foolish at first and I do not blame you if you think I have lost my mind, but I need your help," he explained, leaving you even more curious.

"What would I need to help you with?" you asked furrowing at the man as if he has forgotten to include you in his grand idea.

"My mother has been adamant in finding me a wife and there is only so much I can do to prevent her from continuing her crusade. I know I shouldn't ask you such a thing, but I can't possibly think of anyone else who I trust enough," he continued in a secretive manner.

"Benedict, you must be clearer. I don't understand what you wish for me to do," you attempted to push him to finally reveal his idea.

"I need my mother to stop searching for a wife and the only way I can do that is if I already found someone I am interested in," he started. "That is where I would need your help, if you agreed. Should you agree to pretend I am courting you, my mother would surely stop this nonsense and leave me alone," for a mere second you felt overwhelmed by the hope of his interest in you, but that was only until your brain processed his words. "Pretend" being the main focus of your attention, shattering the small shimmering light of hope within you.

You took a shaky breath, trying to compose yourself, attempting to hide your disappointment. "Surely you didn't think this through. Your mother isn't a fool, she would see through us immediately. You can't possibly think it's a good idea," you tried to reason with him, but instead of thinking it through again, he quickly shook his head.

"But it is. Think about it. You have said so yourself, you don't want to marry just yet and nor do I. It would be the perfect option for both of us, solving our issues," he added enthusiastically as if his idea was anything, but brilliant. He could clearly see the weary expression across your face as he stepped closer and reached for your hands, engulfing them in his large and warm palms. "We would only have to pretend for a short while, I promise," he tried to reassure you. Whilst you knew it was a foolish idea, the thought of being able to stay close to him even if for a short period of time, seemed to cloud your better judgement.

"For how long?" you asked looking up at him as a mischievous grin spread across his dashingly handsome face. One that you adored so much. "I wouldn't want to be a spinster, Benedict," you sighed heavily.

"I would never let that happen," he shook his head quickly, his previously playful smile long gone from his face. "Let us do it for a few weeks and we will see how my mother reacts. I'm sure if we work well together, you might even catch the attention of some very noble men too," he winked jokingly, trying to lift your dull mood.

You haven't had much time to contemplate, maybe a few seconds until you ran through all the options you have been provided with, which was basically none. You heaved a heavy sigh and shook your head, offering a sceptical look to Benedict. "Fine," you said, earning a surprised expression from him, your answer shocking him for a second, before he wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up, twirling you around happily.

"You are my saviour," he chuckled as he hinted a small kiss on your forehead, stopping himself as he realised what he had done. "I apologise, I didn't mean to—"

"I understand. You are simply happy I have agreed to such a scandalous idea," you rolled your eyes, but you couldn't hide the happiness you felt. Even if for a short while, Benedict was to belong to you, and it meant more than you could have possibly expressed. You knew you couldn't have him forever but having him for a couple of weeks made you feel like the happiest person alive.

"I owe you! I didn't think you would agree," he grinned happily, a childish warmness radiating from his stance as though he had won a grand prize.

"I still don't understand why I did. Surely, I'm a fool," you added quickly with a silent chuckle.

"We both are," he replied as he started leading you back to the ballroom with your arm linked around his. His gaze focused on the way ahead, but your eyes were rather resting on his attractive features. He was a stunning man, and you were sure if he had turned to look at you, he would have seen the amount of love you were harbouring for him. But as many times before, no one of you has ever turned.

Weeks passed by and if anyone, Violet Bridgerton was the happiest person to see Benedict growing closer to the woman, you, she had envisioned beside her second eldest son. She has made it very clear that a wedding should soon be happening, wanting nothing but a little baby in her arms. You never wanted to crash her dreams but hearing her talking about a future between you and Benedict was beyond painful. The thought of you waking up beside Benedict, his arm resting across your waist, his neck hidden in the crook of your neck, his breath tickling your skin made your heart ache, knowing it was impossible.

You stood in Somerset House, one arm hooked around Benedict's as he watched the paintings, his face focused on one particular art with dark colours and shadings, slightly depressing as if the artist tried to capture a horrible emotion. Art was always something that you found beautiful, but never really understood. When Benedict talked about the meaning behind each piece with a childish happiness across his face, it made you feel content. Although you didn't understand much of what he was saying, the adorable expression he wore was worth each and every moment you spent listening to him.

Looking at his handsome features as they relaxed into a content smile, made you mirror his expression. You couldn't look at him and not smile. As though his mere presence made you feel at ease.

"I feel your eyes on me," he chuckled with a mischievous smile, knowing that you have indeed been staring at him for the longest time.

"I'm sorry," you quickly turned away, feeling your cheeks and ears heat up in embarrassment. "I couldn't stop watching you. You were really focused on that painting and it seemed as though you were here physically, but not mentally. You unintentionally make this face when you enjoy a painting," you smiled shyly.

"A face?" he furrowed, not knowing of his own reaction.

"Yes, as if you were completely captured by the painting. You have a certain content smile across your face and even forget to blink at times," you giggled, placing your hand in front of your mouth, remembering his facial expression.

"Don't hide your smile," he said as he reached for your wrist and gently wrapped his fingers around your arm, pulling your hand away from your lips. "You are even more beautiful when you smile," for a second his words made you hope, as though he meant more than he let on. His eyes seemed as if they could see through you, reading each and every single thought that crossed your mind. For the shortest of time, it felt your feelings weren't as unrequited as you thought. However, you quickly had to remind yourself that your imagination was playing a painful game with you, one that would surely end in a heartbreak.

You quickly turned away, trying to shake those foolish thoughts away, before you decided to dwell on them any longer. Clearing your thoughts, you turned back to him with a phony smile across your face, biting your bottom lip to calm yourself. But his deep frown left you confused. "Are you okay?" you questioned as he tilted his head as if he was studying your face.

"You were biting your lips again," he replied. "You do that when you are nervous or feeling uncomfortable," he added, stunning you. Biting your lips was indeed a nervous habit of yours, one that you couldn't stop as it made you feel slightly at ease when you felt as if even your own thoughts betrayed you. You never thought Benedict even realised those irrelevant, minor details.

"I'm fine, Benedict," you tried to reassure him with a smile that you wore confidently but could not fool Benedict.

"Should you feel the need to talk, I'm here," he said, drawing tiny circles on the back of your arm that he was still securely holding onto, reassuring you that he was by your side whenever you were in need of him.

As happy as it made you, you couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment as you thought about the heartbreak when he would finally want to end your foolish little game and find himself a wife that he could cherish forever, leaving you with the most horrible heartache one could cause.

You knew it was inevitable, you knew it would kill you, but you loved Benedict and you would have never forced him to stay beside you for any longer than he wanted to. You were ready to give him up, to be happy even if with someone else. The thought of letting him go hurt, but you weren't sure of your own strength either. Thinking about how long you could stay beside him pretending to be a mere friend left you with just as much pain, if not more. But you were ready to sacrifice your own happiness even if to be able to spend one more second with him.

Days passed by since your slightly awkward encounter in Somerset House. You have pretended to be a couple so in love that you couldn't possibly stay away from each other. Lady Whistledown didn't miss to write a paragraph or two about the two of you, already planning your wedding, one that you found slightly excessive, but dared not to mention to keep your act believable.

As much as you enjoyed the first few weeks of your play-pretend, it was hard to keep it up for long. You loved every minute you spent with Benedict, but the longer you were beside him, the more pain you felt. You wished to make him happy, to continue your act, but you also knew that it wasn't forever, and that tiny little thought suffocated you.

You sat on a bench in the park, right after promenading with Benedict. He joined his brothers whilst your maid brought you a glass of water to refresh yourself. You watched as Benedict laughed with his brothers, a wide, adorable and carefree smile sat across his face. Weeks ago, you would have smiled at his happiness, but then and there, sitting on the bench, watching his happy form, you felt miserable. Each time you looked at him, your stomach jumped nervously, your breath caught in your lungs as he touched your arm. These tiny little details meant nothing to him, but for you they meant the world. He couldn't have known the effects his advances left on you, he couldn't have predicted to hurt you unintentionally, but in the end, he unknowingly caused you pain.

Standing up from the bench, you started walking towards the Bridgerton brothers. Heaving a heavy sight, you lifted your arm and tapped Benedict's shoulder lightly, trying to catch his attention. He turned around with a wide smile, looking at you curiously. However, your face must have forgotten to oblige as his smile quickly disappeared and concern took over him.

"Are you alright?" he asked as he nodded to his brothers and reached for your hand, placing it on his arm, leading you away from his family.

"I must talk to you," you started, your voice unusually grim.

"Go ahead. You are worrying me," he added impatiently. Trying to collect your thoughts, you stopped, halting the man beside you whose worried eyes didn't seem to want to leave you for a mere second. "Talk to me," he attempted to reassure you.

"I am really sorry, but I can't possibly do this anymore," your words earned a confused frown from Benedict, before he finally understood what you meant. "I know I promised to help you and I wish I could have done it longer, but I honestly can't do this anymore," you added as you fought against your tears, trying to keep them in place for as long as you could. You couldn't let yourself cry in front of so many people, you couldn't let that happen. Benedict straightened himself in front of you, trying to hide your face from the curious eyes.

"I understand. I am sorry for forcing you to do this. I never thought it could be this hard on you. I would never hurt you, you know that, right?" he asked, trying to contain himself from wrapping his arms around you, fidgeting with his hands beside his thighs.

"I know and you didn't hurt me, it's not your fault. It has just become rather difficult recently and I don't think I'm capable of pretending anymore," you tried to reassure him, making him feel less guilty. "I'm still your friend and I will always be your friend," you added with a phoney smile. Your own words were a lie. You didn't know how long you could pretend to be his friend, but you knew he needed to hear that, he needed not to blame himself. "I will be going home now, but surely I will see you later," you smiled up at him as you curtsied and nodded towards your maid, ready to head home, completely oblivious to the pained gaze he was watching your slowly disappearing form with.

Whilst you sat in your carriage, letting your tears finally run down your cheeks, leaning on your maid's shoulder, Benedict stood confused between Colin and Anthony, his eyes fixed on the ground, his thoughts filled with you only.

"Brother?" Colin called for him with concern in his eyes. It was unusual to see his brother unresponsive, without a playful smile. "Are you alright?" he asked, earning a frown from Benedict.

"I shouldn't have dragged her into this," he replied, but his words were directed more to himself than his brothers.

"What do you mean?" Anthony asked, seemingly more interested in their conversation.

"It was all a lie," Benedict replied, his gaze still fixed on the carefully cut grass.

"What was a lie?" the eldest Bridgerton brother asked again.

"All along we were pretending to be courting, so mother would stop trying to force me to marry," he scoffed, finally understanding the weight of his idea. "She said she can't do this anymore. That it was too painful to bear," he shook his head, guilt overcoming him.

"You really are a fool," Anthony replied with a sceptical look across his face, earning a confused look from both Colin and Benedict.

"How do you mean? Is it because we have been pretending?" Benedict questioned his brother. "I know it was foolish, but she agreed, I didn't know it would be particularly hard on her," he added with a deep frown.

"Brother, can you not see the way she looks at you? Always trying to make you feel happy, bringing a smile to your face even when she, herself is struggling to do so? Are you really that blind?" Anthony raised a questioning brow, as though he couldn't believe how oblivious his brother was towards your feelings.

"Should I understand?" he asked tilting his head innocently, searching for the right explanation. "We have been friends from a very young age, I am certain we have always tried to make each other smile in a difficult situation," he added, earning an eye roll from the eldest Bridgerton brother, ignoring his manners.

"When you said you were courting her, I thought you finally realised that you weren't the only one with feelings beyond friendship. However, after hearing about this foolish idea of yours, forcing a lady to pretend to love you, when in fact she has feelings for you is beyond stupid, brother, and I'm quite disappointed in you for not realising it yourself," he shook his head disapprovingly.

"Are you telling me she has feelings for me?" Benedict asked in disbelief, his brother's words lighting a weak hope within him.

"Indeed, took you long enough to understand," he scoffed.

"I have to talk to her," Benedict added quickly, heading towards the carriages in haste, carefully planning all he needed to tell you.

The ride didn't take long, 20 minutes at most, before he stood in front of your house, his hands shaking slightly, nervousness running through his whole being. Knocking on the door, a maid opened it for him, asking him to wait to announce his arrival to you.

You laid on your bed, cheeks swollen from crying, bottom lip red as a result of the constant biting of your nervous state. A knock on your door brought you out of your misery as your maid walked into the room.

"Mr. Bridgerton is here to see you," she said with a saddened tone, knowing of the arrangement between the two of you. Your eyes widened in surprise, you weren't ready to see him, especially not in your current, heartbroken state. "Would you like me to ask him to leave?" she questioned, looking at the panicked expression across your face.

"No, it's fine. Please take him to the drawing room," you instructed her and headed to the bathroom to make yourself presentable. Your eyes were bloodshot, your face was slightly swollen, and your clothes were beyond wrinkled. Attempting to straighten your dress, you stroked the material over and over again, but it didn't seem to work, nor did the cold water you washed your face with to remove the evidence of your miserable state. At last, you gave up and walked to the drawing room, knowing you wouldn't be able to do anything else with your appearance.

"We have just parted, Benedict," you said to the man as you stepped inside the room and took a seat across the sofa he occupied.

"I needed to see you," he replied, standing up from his place and taking a seat beside you. "I—, I talked to my brothers after you left," he started, stammering over his words, something he only did in his nervous state. "I am a fool and there is no excuse for that. I can't possibly imagine how hard it must have been for you to pretend—"

"I have told you already, I am completely fine," you tried to reassure him with a faux smile, one that this time Benedict didn't believe to be genuine.

"But are you?" he asked, earning a confused frown from you. "Do you know why I thought this foolish idea to be brilliant in the first place?" he raised a questioning brow, but instead of replying you shook your head. "I wanted to be closer to you. I merely thought it would be my chance to spend more time with you. Surely, I had no intention to marry anyone, and I wished my mother to stop, but my primary concern was you. I wanted to be near you at all times, but I couldn't possibly tell you how I felt, knowing you would only reject me," you couldn't control the surprise sitting across your face, your lips parted in shock, his words seemingly part of your most precious dreams. It seemed surreal.

"You are confusing me, Benedict," you spoke up, trying not to hope once again to then fall painfully.

"I'm saying I love you. I have loved you for so long, I can't remember when it started. I never imagined my feelings could be returned and I turned to foolish ideas to be beside you. I needed my brothers to open my eyes and scold me for being childish, for making me hope that I might have your heart even if only half as much as you have mine," he reached for you hand, gently squeezing it in his hold, reassuring you that he meant every single word of his.

"I love you," you blurted out, astonished by his speech, your own words surprising you.

"You do?" he asked, afraid to believe the words he has longed to hear from you.

"I do," you nodded, this time with more confidence, earning a wholehearted smile from Benedict as he leaned closer and wrapped his arms around you, embracing you in his arms.

"I made you cry, didn't I?" he asked as he pulled away slightly, enough for him to be able to look in your eyes as he placed his hands on your cheeks.

"It wasn't you. I was emotional, because I wasn't sure how long I would be able to stay beside you as a friend before it became too much to handle," you giggled awkwardly, feeling as if you have said too much.

"It was still my fault. I didn't consider your feelings," he shook his head, disapproving of his own actions. The tip of his thumb gently brushed across your bottom lip, leaving you with a ticklish feeling. "Have you been biting your lips again?" he asked as his eyes focused on your mouth. His attentiveness, his attention to detail and his closeness made you swallow nervously.

"I might have," you whispered, not daring to raise your voice any louder. Feeling his breath on your lips, the proximity between your faces, his warm palms on your cheeks made you feel intoxicated.

"You shouldn't do that. From now on talk to me when something bothers you," he spoke in a low tone, his voice soothing, making you feel safe. "You are doing it again," he chuckled, his eyes completely captured by the way your teeth bit on your lip, but this time it wasn't nervousness, but excitement. His closeness affected every tiny part of your body. "It really makes me want to kiss you," he breathed, completely mesmerised by your lips, as if an invisible force was pulling him towards you. You felt your heart beating at a dangerous pace, almost as if threatening to escape your chest and you could swear Benedict heard it just as well.

"Hmm," you hummed in a reply, incapable of creating a coherent sentence, before closing the gap between the two of you, a certain confidence rush taking over your actions. Instead of the surprised reaction you expected from Benedict, a playful chuckle left his lungs.

"Impatient, it seems," he added, before he returned your kiss, pulling you closer to himself, enjoying the feeling of your body in his embrace. He has imagined over and over again how it could feel to kiss you, to hold you, but none of those made-up scenarios could ever compete against the reality and the content it filled him with. "I wish to genuinely court you this time," he added as he pulled away from you.

"I very much hope so," you giggled happily, earning a playful eye roll from Benedict, before he captured your lips once again, wrapping his arms around you securely.

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[potionsclasss]

CAN YOU BELIEVE I WROTE A FANFIC me neither ok so please let me know and reblog/like if you enjoy this! If you want more content, or a part two lmk. Feedback criticism etc. are always welcome too! Enjoy!!!

Summary: The tension between you and Draco has been palpable, and you wonder if the night of the moonlit ball will bring it out of the shadows ;)

Pairing: Draco x Reader

Warnings: Smut, possessive Draco, slight

Daddy kink.

Word Count: 2.9k

Star Gazing

The sky was like an abstract watercolor on the night of the Yule ball. It was a smattering of deep purple and pink smeared across the horizon, dotted with glittering stars. It reminded you of the glass of wine you knew you’d be having in some grimy dorm room at an after party, messy and warm in the pit of your stomach. Stepping out of the deep green accented dorm to get some air, you could make out the twins of Gemini up above. They reflected off your cold metal rings as you looked up, fingers curling around your champagne flute glass. Your heels clicked on the pavement as you withdrew from the railing and walked back inside, forest green dress trailing airily behind you. It wasn’t even cold out, but you felt a sudden shiver up your spine at one thought not even the stars could distract you from- him. Surely he would be at the ball. He seemed to be appearing more and more lately, it was almost a dance the two of you did.

First, it was the obscenely long held eye contact at dinner. His icy grey eyes stared into your honey brown ones with an emotion you couldn’t quite gauge. Even with Pansy giddily whispering in his ear, he kept his eyes trained on you, slowly pulling the vanilla ice cream clad spoon from his pink lips until you could feel the tiniest bit of blood rush into your cheeks. You would always look away first, but that didn’t stop the sensation of his stare lingering on you even as you stood up to leave with Daphne.

Then, it was him showing up in your potions class. You would watch his pale ring clad hands stir his Pepperup Potion. They moved in soft, confident, meticulous circles. The slytherin crest seemed even more prominent on his broad chest and your Amortentia potion turned sour as you imagined the milky white skin underneath. When he finally worked up the courage to ask you a question about the proper way to cut an Alihotsy, you thought you imagined the way his eyes glanced down to your pink puffy lips, if just for a moment, and how he leaned into you just a little closer to smell your sweet vanilla and lilac perfume he so often fantasized about behind closed doors.

In the common room, you always found an excuse to sit just a little too close to him on the couch. His warm minty breath would be near your neck and his thigh would bumped against yours while you and Theo giggled at him during his fights with Crab on which dark spells should actually be banned. He was intoxicating and you were starting to fall... hard. More and more he not only consumed so many of your waking thoughts, but your subconscious ones. You couldn’t shake last nights dream. His shirt was half unbuttoned and his hands were around your neck as he sloppily kissed you roughly and walked you backwards till you hit a wall and-

“You realize we’re going to be late if you don’t snap out of it, don’t you”

You turn your neck over your shoulder at the sound of a collected deep voice to see Blaise hanging onto the doorframe. He does look beautiful, positioned looming in the doorway. A half smile quirked on his face tells you he’s been watching you wonder around absentmindedly.

“Fresh air calms me down.” You admitted earnestly meeting his dark chocolate eyes. He strode forward and shut the outside door that you had left open during your pondering, and met you in the middle of the room, taking your arm delicately in his. “What’s there to be nervous about?” You could tell he was teasing you a little, in a sweet boyish way. You glanced up at him through your eyelashes to meet his gaze. Blaise was handsome and quiet, and you were relieved he’d asked you to go to the Ball - as friends. But you certainly weren’t about to tell him the root of your anxiety was surrounding seeing his best friend tonight.

“Oh shut up, come on let’s get going.” you giggled, watching his full lips curl upward at your response.

~

“You ready to see me make a fool of myself?” Blaise teased. You giggled drunkenly nodding, leaning on his broad shoulders for support. His suit was long gone leaving only a white undershirt stained with beer and sweat. You would be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy drunk dancing and joking with Blaise at an after party, his intoxicating smell of green apple and whiskey intermingling with yours, but he wasn’t Draco and he never would be. Overwhelmed by the energy of the room and your date and the red wine in your brain, you stumbled backwards. “I need some air” you slurred. “Again??” He jeered, fingers reaching for the flask in his pocket. You stuck your tongue out playfully and used the wall as your guide to the hallway.

As you stepped into the crisp night air, goosebumps rose on your exposed legs thanks to the short black party dress you adorned. Looking up at the sky, you noticed Gemini was now partly covered by an airy grey cloud passing by in the violet streaked night sky.

“My, my, my Y/N, you know your missing an entire party inside, right?” a voice called out, not exactly cutting sharply through the quiet of the night, save for the distant sounds of partygoers, but more like gliding through the air in his lilting tone. You looked to your right to see pale hair glistening in the silver moonlight that could only belong to one person. “There you are Draco, I practically sent out a search party looking for you. Where have you been all night?“ You knew Draco didn’t like parties if he wasn’t drunk enough, just like you. He looked upwards at the stars, smirking just a little as you neared him. “You know, I’m hardly Yule ball material.” He pulled out a cigarette and offered one to you. You shook your head and watched as the lighter shadowed his lips and illuminated his hollow cheekbones, hanging from his pursed mouth. He looked over at you, drinking you in and admiring your hugging black dress. He took note of everything. From how it hugged your luscious chest to how it dipped below your defined collar bones that were practically begging for love bites. Your tongue swiped across your bottom lip and Draco could feel himself get dizzy. “Well.. this isn’t the Yule ball anymore is it. This is the after party.” You smirked, taking the cigarette from his mouth to place into yours for a moment. He watched intently as your cheeks hollowed out for a puff and the exhale of smoke reflected off your cherry lipgloss “Come on.” You said firmly, outstretching a hand for his. He looked down for a moment before ignoring your hand and taking you by the waist back inside. His hand was gripping you heavenly and you could feel the space he was touching practically catch fire as he stubbed out his cigarette on the railing before flicking it off to the side.

"Well.. if it isn’t the most gorgeous girl I have ever laid my eyes on" Blaise joked as you returned with your partner. Rolling your eyes at his flattery, you felt Draco’s grip tighten significantly on your waist, moving down almost instinctively to rest on your hip.

“Blaise” Draco said, coldly acknowledging his friend and classmate. Draco leaned down to whisper on your ear, lips centimeters from you and his vodka laden breath running down your spine "I’m gunna get us something more to drink, you wait right here, yeah?" You nodded obediently and watched him walk away, rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, still warm and giddy from the feeling of his hand running down your torso. Suddenly, you felt like his presence was making it hard to stand. You couldn’t be sure if it was all the wine or his breath or imagining those cold rings on your thigh but you instantly felt dizzy and stumbled backwards. “Whoa whoa whoa I got you.” You felt an unfamiliar pair of hands catch you, looking up to see Blaise. “Thanks..” you said as a breathy laugh escaped you absently mindedly, not sure if it was the alcohol or Draco that was making you this way. You could feel Blaises hands snake around your lower back to steady you and you found yourself pressed against his tall strong body, head in the crook of his neck while you caught your breath.

Draco could feel himself seethe with frustration, the sight of you in the arms of his best friend. How dare he touch you as Draco had dreamed of so many nights. He hated the sight. The thought of a man not worthy of a witch like you touching you in ways only he should made him feel an anger he had never experienced. When you rested your head on his chest he pushed past the other part goers instinctively.

Suddenly, He was behind you, holding two glasses of beer in one hand and your wrist in the other. You quickly and embarrassedly released your grip on Blaise. He seemed to think nothing of it, falling quickly into another drunken conversation with a pretty Hufflepuff.

You looked up at Draco, trying to ignore the way your heart thudded in your chest. You’re supposed to be just friends, but friends don’t look at each other with the anger that seeps from Draco right now. Friends don’t make each other feel the things the two of you are feeling right now. His body is tense as he manhandles you outside, and you follow him back to the starlit porch to the best of your inebriated ability. When he knows the two of you are alone, he looks down, internalizing his emotions but letting them spill out of his piercing eyes as he glares at you. “Didn’t you ever learn to keep your hands to yourself?” He asks, most of the playfulness gone from his voice. “Draco!?” You exclaim, confused as how your actions were at all inappropriate. “I was stumbling around and dizzy, Blaise was just there to catch my fall.” Draco let out a quiet breath, shifting ever so slightly so he was standing just centimeters from you, fingers brushing a curl behind your ear. You could feel blood rush into your cheeks and eardrums, and the pounding was so loud you were unsure if you even heard his next words right, as he whispered brushing your bottom lip with his thumb;

“I’m the only man who can touch you like that.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt the weight of his stare on you. He wasn’t quick and he didn’t rush it. You felt one strong hand on your hip and the other gently stroking your cheek as your noses brushed and he leaned in to close the last possible gap between the two of you.

It was far beyond what he’d ever imagined. It was better and softer and much more beautiful. It lit a fire in his skin just by the touch of your soft cherry lips that no one else would be able to. Just by kissing you, he felt more alive and drunk and dizzy than he ever had in his life. You pulled away breathlessly, a blush on your cheeks and pressure between your legs. A string of far off laughter pulled you out of the intimate moment. Your eyes darted around, checking for onlookers, or worse; Professor Snape. Draco’s gaze remained unwaveringly on you. “Draco, maybe we shouldn’t be doing this..here” your voice was barely above a whisper. “Doing what ...darling?” He responded with a half smirk quirked on his lips, leaning in to bite your earlobe gently. “Let’s go then” he mumbled, this time outstretching his hand to meet yours, guiding you through the dark, under the stars of Gemini, through the tumbling hallways and switching stars of Hogwarts, down to a chilly and dark room which he whispered spells and tongues to enter.

“Come here baby” he cooed, as soon as the door was locked behind you. Walking backwards with his motions you felt your back being pressed up against a cold wall as his lips met yours once again, this time in privacy. Stars exploded behind your eyelids as you felt yourself moan into the kiss, satisfied and sloppy and needing more. The feeling of his lips and little scratch of his stubble felt heavenly across your skin. The pendant of his cold silver necklace pressed against your chest and juxtaposed the heat that was radiating through you. His hands found your hips, tugging at the hem of your slutty black dress that had been making him struggle to think all night. You gripped his silvery white hair as he worked on your neck, moaning and urgently needing more. Every movement he made was filled with lust and longing and desperation. He paused before he did anything that could possibly make you regret tonight. In a low and earnest tone he spoke breathlessly against your neck. “Tell me to stop” his fingers were already inching up your dress and his knee knocking ur legs apart to spread them a little. He fought the animalistic urge to rip it off you and ravish you against the wall, knowing you’d make the prettiest noises for him, all alone in the confines of his room. Your fingers fumbled with the buttons on his dress shirt, not possibly moving fast enough for either of you. Just as raggedly you spoke your answer.

“Why in the world would I ever do that, daddy?” Draco melted at your words feeling his pants become impossibly confined against your stomach. He instantly pushed your dress around your hips to reveal a dark green velvet thong he hoped you wore just for him. You tried to be calm but your movement were frantic as you tugged them down around your ankles and whimpered at the sight of him getting on his knees, propping one of your legs around his shoulder. You steadied yourself on the wall hardly able to keep yourself up. As slowly as he could manage, his tongue worked over your folds, sucking and licking as it also paid special attention to your clit giving it immeasurably pleasurable kitten kicks every few seconds. As each moment passed by you tangled your fingers deeper in his hair and his name escaped your lips louder and louder. The noises in the room were delightful to Draco’s ears. You threw your head back at the pleasure of his fingers being added and working and curling inside you, eyes shut, lips parted in a lustful haze. You felt an orgasm quickly building and Draco stopped before you got too close. Whimpering at the lack of contact he smirked as he stood up to meet your mouth once again. “So needy,” he couldn’t help but remark against you, pushing his pants and boxers down quickly. His heart continued to pound greedily, and he practically threw you into the bed in one swift strong motion. As he looked down at you, pinning you onto his covers you noted much of the playfulness was gone from his eyes and replaced with an intense lust that almost scared you. He was obsessed with you.

You spread your legs and batted your eyelashes like you knew drove him crazy and watched as he pulled out his length and sheathed it inside your tight pussy. The sound of his gruff and euphoric moan mixed with your needy whimpers was almost too much for Draco to handle. He picked up the pace, from agonizingly slow to ruthlessly fast. So many nights he had dreamed about fucking you like this. Ravishing you like you were his and only his, as you should be. His head dropped to the crook of your neck as your back arched in both pain and pleasure. How perfectly, wonderfully, wholly he fit inside you. His eyes remained trained on your beautiful face, listening to the angelic noises that fell from you lips. “That’s Daddy’s good girl. Don’t hold back pretty girl, make your pretty noises for me baby.” At that your lips fell open and you screamed his name much to his satisfaction. Your walls tightened around his cock as he continued to rail you, and he began seeing stars from being inside of his girl. Draco’s teeth sank into your shoulder as he released into you, his cum heavy and warm and deep.

Your gaze was clouded and lips slightly parted, almost unable to speak or process your surroundings. You watched motionless as Draco breathed a sigh into your chest and kissed your cherry gloss smeared lips with the upmost affection. He stood, padding around the room to collect his clothing that had been fiercely flung around the room. He watched you, breathless and angelic, wrapped up in his white sheets with his bruises and marks so striking against your pale skin trailing down your body. He so desperately hoped you would fall into a deep euphoric sleep right then and there, next to him, enveloped in the scent of your vanilla and jasmine perfume, dreaming of the stars.

[fw00shy]

What Happens After Summer is Up to You

Harry/Draco | T | 1.6k | post-war summer at hogwarts, a little story about letting things go and not making a big fuss over it, fluff honestly but not too sweet | ao3 link

for @drarrymicrofic: what if he wants ken not barbie. ty @vukovich for the beta 💙

(i)

Draco returned to Hogwarts the year after the war for the same reason that got him into this mess in the first place: because he was told to. "Keep your head down and count yourself lucky," his father had said, and Draco packed his bags the same as he did every year, having learned nothing about making his own decisions.

That would come later.

"Some people need a little more help in life than others," Pansy said with a pitying pat of his bedcovers as she watched him pack.

Pansy more than passed her NEWTs with the help of Polyjuice and a morally compromised Ravenclaw. A two-pm Portkey to Zanzibar waited for her in celebration of her well-deserved accomplishments.

Draco picked up an engraved wooden case and opened it to reveal his father's Snitch, the one from the year Lucius had won the House Cup. Draco packed it with him every year as a good luck charm, but looking at it now brought upon a wave of unease.

"Who else is going?" Draco asked Pansy. She was wearing a bruise-purple miniskirt and black lipstick that drained her complexion as gaunt as a Thestral. Draco noted this with petty satisfaction.

Pansy flopped back on Draco's bed. "I dunno. Everyone, I suppose. Daphne, of course. Blaise. Theo. Greg, maybe? But he says he might not have the money, which I think is for the best really — he's just been so sad, probably wants some time alone, to, you know, process — though Blaise said he'd cover for him…" Pansy sat back up. "Draky baby, you aren't sad about missing out, are you?"

Draco snapped down the lid to the Snitch and stashed it in his trunk. "Don't call me that."

"Don't be like that," Pansy cooed. She got off the bed and flounced toward him, her every step light with barely constrained exuberance. "You know it won't be the same without you. I'll owl you a nice prezzy, alright? Look at me."

Pansy's eyes were black and glittering, her mouth hardened in a crocodile smile. She looked like she was ready to move on with her life, which she might as well go and do. Nobody was stopping her, anyway.

(ii)

Hogwarts held preparatory courses over the summer for Muggleborns, and the newly anointed Headmistress singlehandedly taught them all. There were twelve students in total across the years, and the terms of Draco's probation stated that he was to aid in their education.

"Studying over the summer… bet this is Granger's idea of fun," Draco grumbled under his breath over dinner the first week.

"Mine, actually," Potter said around a mouthful of peas. "She helped write the curriculum, but then she scored an internship at the Ministry."

They were sitting at the teacher's table, which meant Draco could talk to Potter without having to meet his eye. As such, they'd spoken a few times, though primarily for passing the butter and pepper and whatnot. (Their fingers brushed on occasion. Though never on purpose, of course.)

"I'm happy for her," Harry said.

"It's a good curriculum." Draco coughed. Dear Circe, complimenting Granger… did he have no filter?

(iii)

Teaching Quidditch to ten-year-olds was Draco's least favourite part of his sentence. You'd think sharing his joy of flying would be his only solace in a soulless summer cleaning up after children barely coordinated enough to wipe their own arses, and you would be horribly, disgustingly wrong. Turns out most Muggle-raised children had a healthy dose of vertigo that often manifested into projectile vomiting from a metre up.

"I just don't get it," Potter said as he Scourgified puke from Draco's hair for the third time that afternoon. Their students were long gone, taken off to the kitchens after one plummeted to the ground in a cannonball of chunder.

"Of course you don't," Draco huffed. Not just anyone could fly like Harry Potter, the youngest Seeker in a century despite never setting foot on a pitch before Hogwarts. "Like any normal dunce can be Harry Potter. You're stupid to think anyone has it as easy as you."

Potter threw a fist at Draco's eye. Draco returned it to Potter's chest, shoving Potter down to the ground. It felt good to hurt, so good that he nearly whined in disappointment when Potter froze and dropped his fist mid-air.

"That was a compliment," Potter said, his face cracked open with bewilderment. "You — God, Malfoy. You mess me up." He got up from the ground, his knees grass-stained and his face bruised with mud. Draco watched the anger bloom red and splotchy over Potter's cheeks and tried not to cower when Potter drew his wand. Was this what Voldemort saw before he died?

Potter muttered something unintelligible, and Draco felt the pain siphoning away from his body. He was light all over, as though Potter had managed to take away all his wounds, even the ones within him, so that there was nothing to Draco but air.

Draco watched Potter disappear back into the castle before standing. He walked through the halls in a daze until he ran into the Headmistress, who told him to clean up before he set a bad example for the incoming First-Years. It wasn't until he was freshly showered and pulling on his robes again that he realised that his Dark Mark was gone.

(iv)

They started tossing around a Quaffle in the late afternoons after Quidditch class. They were already in their leathers, and saying yes was as easy as lifting off the ground. Throwing around a Quaffle was loads harder than chasing after a Snitch, but neither were practised at it, which helped, as they dove after missed catches with all the vigour of a game-ending Snitch. They flew until the daylight ran out and their breaths with it, sweaty and exhausted and so late into dinner that they were sent to the kitchens to scavenge leftovers.

It was a Sunday afternoon in mid-August when Pansy's promised owl brought Draco a box of chocolates; too many for Draco to eat alone, so it was only sensible for him to share as he would have with Greg or Vince in the past. He walked the long corridor to Potter's door and knocked, chocolates in hand.

It was a terrible mistake. Potter wore only boxers, his glasses askew and his hair still sleep-rumpled (despite it being The Afternoon!). Draco stumbled back as though slapped. Potter honestly had no right being so effortlessly attractive on top of everything else he had going for him. It was like seeing Dumbledore in his sleeping hat, or maybe the first time Draco caught Pansy on the toilet and realised that girls pooped: all wrong, completely wrong, he really ought to go, perhaps another time —

Potter dragged him inside with only the gentlest roll of his eyes.

The inside of Potter's room was as cosy as Mother's cashmere jumper, only uglier (the wrong colours). Potter ate an embarrassing number of chocolates while proclaiming, "I dunno where it all goes, honest; can't gain a stone," and Draco was so disgusted by the utter unfairness of life that he fell asleep over Potter's bed and had to sneak back to his own room in the wee hours of the morning.

(v)

It wasn't meant to be an open invitation. But Potter followed Draco all the way back to his room after dinner the next day, and Draco didn't manage to shut the door on him in time.

Potter looked around, his head swivelling around comically, like an owl. And then his eyes narrowed on Lucius's unopened letters piled high on Draco's desk.

"What's in them?"

"Dunno," Draco said. "Directives, if I had to guess. Rather pointless, considering I'm stuck under McGonagall's iron fist until the summer's out." Potter opened one anyway, and Draco watched anger carve lines between his brows with some bemusement. Was this what it was like to have Harry Potter on his side? It was a bit like hanging around a guard crup, or maybe a guard dragon.

Potter burned the letter. He burned them all before returning to his room.

Draco sat on his bed and stared at the scorched top of his desk. He wasn't sure how he felt about it all being gone. Part of him was relieved, sure, but mostly the loss numbed his chest through.

Then Draco remembered his father's Snitch.

Draco summoned the Snitch to him, and it burst forth from the bottom of his trunk amid a cacophony of torn textbooks and scattered winter cloaks. Draco caught the box in his right hand and tucked it under him before gingerly stepping over the mess to his window, where he took out the Snitch and let it go. And then all that was left of Lucius in Draco's room was Draco himself.

The future unfolded before him, cold and barren to the ends of the earth. What was he supposed to do now?

(vi)

In the last week of summer, Potter told Draco to call him Harry, and then he asked Draco what he was going to do with his life.

Draco said, "I dunno. Get a job at the Ministry. Marry Pansy, I suppose. And you with Ginny, yeah?"

"Yeah," Harry said and took Draco's face into his hands and kissed him.

Was this it? Was this what all those miserable years surmounted to? This crystalline moment, the one that Draco waited for his whole life. And now it took him by surprise.

Harry's lips were very chapped, though his mouth held the sweet promise of fresh grass and sunshine. Whatever that meant. Draco kissed him back. And then he said it wasn't fair that Harry was so good at kissing as he was at everything else, honestly — sunshine? Was there anything Harry struggled at? Because he was so bloody perfect that it made Draco want to stomp on his face and throw up all over him.

"You're the only person in the world who thinks I'm perfect," Harry said and kissed him again.

(vi)

What happened after summer is up to you. 💙

Read on AO3

[weelittleweasley]

masquerade (part 3) (d.m.)

prompt: draco malfoy was your rival in slytherin house. both of you ambitious, bold, and daring. as one of the few pureblood slytherin families left, you promised yourself that you would continue your lineage, but not with scum like malfoy. instead, you would meet a suitor at the annual masquerade ball hosted by the malfoys each year. but what if your prospective suitor is someone you didn’t expect…

pairing: draco malfoy x fem! pureblood reader

warnings: language, 18+ sexual content, yelling and fighting, underage drinking, talks of nightmares, anxiety

word count: 6.7k

author note: if you would like to be added to the masquerade taglist, fill out this form please!

Pressed against the brick wall of the staircase, lips pressed to each other, frantically stealing kisses, jagged breathing as hands roam up and down your body, your fingers laced in his hair. His lip detach from yours to press hot kisses down your neck and jawline as you pant, trying to catch your breath, desperate for air. Your eyes are sealed shut as you relish in the feeling of his skin against yours. 

You sigh as his lips reattach to yours, picking back where he left off. Draco’s hands trail up your sides and to your chest, groping your breasts outside of your shirt. You whine when he stops as you can feel his lips turn into a smirk. “I thought you hated me,” he mumbles against your lips.

He continues to kiss you down your jawline, leaving sloppy kiss. Your chest rises and falls heavily as you think to yourself. You wanted him. This felt so good, so right. But it went against everything you stood for. It went against everything you taught yourself when you first laid eyes on him. Draco was the enemy. The saboteur. Pretentious, evil, vile, loathsome, despicable. And yet, here you were, underneath him as he pressed heavy kisses against your delicate skin, leaving marks against your skin that claimed you as his.

For as long as you could remember, you hated Draco. If you told yourself months ago that this was the situation you found yourself in, you wouldn’t believe it. But you couldn’t deny that you loved every minute of it. Maybe you didn’t hate Draco? Maybe things were changing for the both of you? Was there more to him than just the side he let you see? 

Breathlessly, you speak as he looks deep into your eyes, his pooled with lust, his hands firmly placed on your hips as he pressed his body close to yours. “I thought you found me intolerable,” you retort as he smirks. 

The two of you just stand there, chests rising and falling heavily as you stare at each other. You don’t kiss again. You just look at each other like you did that night at the ball. His hands on your hips as yours rested on his chest. This was never supposed to happen. But you couldn’t change the past now. It was too late. What is done is done. There was no turning back. But the future was unclear. What did this mean for your rivalry? Was there one anymore?

As you stare into Draco’s eyes, you notice a shift. His eyes stop staring into yours with adoration. Something changes. He nervously gulps and his hands pull away from your body and he gently pushes your hands down from his chest. You’re confused by his sudden change in demeanor. “I’m sorry,” Draco tells you as he looks around, making sure that the coast was clear and no one saw what just happened. “This was a mistake.”

Your heart stops. “Sorry for what?” you ask, scoffing a little bit. You sure weren’t sorry for what just happened and you knew he��wasn’t either. 

Draco backs himself away from you and take a few steps down the stairs as you watch him in utter confusion. “It was heat of the moment,” he tells you as your smile fades. “There’s nothing between us, (Y/N). And there never will be,” he simply states as fact rather than a question. You look at him in disbelief and scoff, shaking your head. He sighs and turns towards you, a little annoyed. “You know nothing can happen between us. The ball was a fluke! What happened just then,” he points to the stairs where you had just kissed, “was a stupid mistake. We both got caught up and it was a slip on both our parts.”

You take a few steps down from the stairs and challenge him. “So you mean to tell me that you feel nothing towards me? Not ever?” you fold your arms across your chest in defense. There was no way he could stand there and deny everything that happened between you two. The progression of events and the things Draco were saying were not lining up. He was trying to protect himself at the expense of your integrity. Draco sighs and turns away from you, not bearing to look at you anymore. “Well, now that makes you something I never thought you were, Draco. A liar.”

Draco takes a step towards you, “You know it to be true, (Y/N). We are getting our feelings for each other confused after that night. We need to go our separate ways and go back to how things used to be. That’s what’s best for us.”

In pure fury now, without even registering it, you push his chest. “You do not get to decide what is best for me,” you point at him. “You have no right to tell me what I can and can’t do and what I can and can’t feel.” Draco looks at you, almost apologetically, but wipes it off quickly to replace it with a disgruntled look. “But you know what,” you sigh. “Maybe you’re right.” Draco furrows his brows. “Better to keep someone as self-absorbed and righteous as you at an arm’s distance,” you speak, surrendering yourself to the reality of the situation. The illusion that you conjured up of you and Draco maybe being together after the history you’ve had was childish and foolish. “Best for us to do what we do best. Compete against each other,” you speak softly as he gulps. “Best of luck, Malfoy. It’s a race to the top now. More than ever.”

And with that, you push past him and back to the party. A part of you wishes that Draco called out for your name like they did in those romantic movies, but this wasn't a romantic movie. This was real for you. This was a horrifying truth that you had to get past and move on with. It was showtime now and you weren’t going to miss your shot. 

Putting the stairwell incident behind you, you make your way back to the party and walk directly to the drinks table and pour yourself a cup full of fire whiskey, drinking it in a few goes, the sensation burning your throat, warming your chest, and making your stomach churn. You’d come to regret it in the morning, but now you needed something to distract you.

You watch as people still happily mind their own business, dancing and chatting away, smiles on everyone’s faces. You wished that you were carefree as that, but it wasn’t in your nature to let go so easily. Letting go was hard. Especially when it is linked to your past and how you were raised. You were taught letting go meant putting your guard down and that was a sign of weakness. You needed to protect yourself because if you didn’t, who else will?

Shaking your head, you push aside your thoughts. You have no motivation to go dance and pretend like nothing was wrong. But you didn’t want to be alone in your dormitory after what happened. 

Walking over to Daphne who chats to a few people in the corner of the party, you place a hand on her shoulder. “Hey,” you quietly interject. “Would you mind getting some fresh air with me?” you ask her.

Daphne immediately notices the look in your eyes. “Absolutely,” she tells you as she excuses herself. The two of you link arms and walk out of the common room. “Be careful, prefects are monitoring the halls since it’s past curfew.”

You give her a smile, “You’re forgetting who you’re talking to.” As a prefect yourself, other prefects weren’t going to question your motives. “Besides, if they give me shit for it, we can just cast an enchantment on them and poof, it’s like it never happened.”

Daphne shakes her head as you walk through the halls and eventually find yourself outside. The air is cold against your hot face, but it’s refreshing and revitalizing. You sigh as the wind blows against your cheeks as you across your arms for warmth. You remain quiet with just your thoughts, silently analyzing what just happened. It all happened so quickly, giving you little to no time to process any of what just happened.

Placing a hand on yours, Daphne gives you a sad smile. “Is everything alright?” she asks, genuinely concerned for you. If there was one thing she hated, it was seeing someone she loved in pain. 

You turn to Daphne with tears in your eyes that threaten to fall out, but before they can, you wipe them away. “It won’t ever work between us. And I was silly for thinking it could,” you confess. You didn’t need to give context. Daph knew exactly what this was about. “I was right in the first place. It’s illogical. We’re oil and water. Fire and ice. When one of us prevails, the other gets hurt.”

“You weren’t silly for thinking that, (Y/N),” Daphne stands in front of you to look you in the eyes, focusing on you. “In fact, you were brave for trying. You know I love Draco, but that boy is a coward. You are quite the opposite,” she says as you let out a light chuckle. “Consider it a bullet dodged.”

Shaking your head, you sigh, “You’re right. Thank you.” She nods and squeezes your hands. “I just wanna stand here for a little while before going back in. Is that okay?” 

Daphne smiles, “Of course. Take as much time as you need.”

The two of you stand outside the castle, enjoying the cool winter breeze on your skin, the light of the moon illuminating your faces as Daphne rubs your back comfortingly. You rest your head on her shoulder as you exhale a shaky breath. Things just got a lot more complicated.

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

Avoiding Draco was virtually impossible. The two of you had the same duties, same study schedule, same classes. So instead of trying to meander your way around seeing him, you approached the situation like you did for years. With vitriol and no compassion. You didn’t talk to him, you didn’t make eye contact with him, you just pretended he didn’t exist. And him the same to you.

It made for awkward encounters that people definitely picked up on, but no one wanted to ask you the reason why and you didn’t want to explain the reason why.

Prefect duties with Draco became something you dreaded. Before any of this mess happened, the two of you would make a competition out of it. Who helped more first years? Who finished patrolling first? Who completed all tasks first? Who got the the prefect bathroom first? But now, you remained silent and minded your own business, but still snuck glances at each other, making sure that the other was still on task. 

Tonight’s prefect duties were almost all complete. You had finished patrolling your hallways and rotated your shift with a Ravenclaw prefect. You loosened the Slytherin tie around your neck and let your hair down from the ponytail it was being held up in. Letting out a sigh of relief, you fluff your hair and rub your face. Today was exhausting and all you wanted to do was go into your room and go to bed.

You walked into the Slytherin common room, fully prepared to do so, but you stop in your tracks when you see a first year student sat on the couch, sniffing to themselves. “Hello,” you gently greet the student. “Why are you up at this hour? It’s quite late,” you slowly approach the small boy who looks up at you, tear stained cheeks and red eyes signifying he’s been crying for a while. “Can I sit down next to you?” you ask.

He nods gently and scoots over for you to sit next to him. Carefully, you sit next to him and give him a soft smile. “What’s your name?” you ask him.

“Phillip,” he gently replies, wiping his eyes on the cuffs of his pajamas.

You give him a friendly smile and extend a hand to him. “Hi Phillip, I’m (Y/N). I’m the Slytherin prefect,” you tell him, letting him know that you were here to help him. He could trust you. He gives you a small smile and shakes your hand delicately, still hesitant. “Would you like to talk about what is making you upset? Or would you prefer me to sit here and listen? Or we don’t have to talk at all,” you offer him options, letting him chose what will make him the most comfortable.

Phillip sniffles. “I had a bad dream. But I don’t want to talk about it.”

You nod your head, “We don’t have to talk about it. That’s alright.” Phillip nods his head and plays with the hem of his pajamas, kicking his feet back and forth. “Bad dreams happen sometimes. But that’s all they are. Dreams. It’s not real,” you tell him. “You know what makes me feel better?” you tell him as he looks up at you, wondering what you were going to say. “I think about all of the exciting things I’m going to do in the morning. Do you have any fun things planned?”

A small smile forms on the small boy’s face which is soon replaced with tiny giggles. “Professor McGonagall is taking us all to Hogsmeade tomorrow morning,” he beams.

You give him an excited gasp. “You see! That sounds like loads of fun!” He laughs at your excitement for him. “There’s going to be so much to do! You can buy sweets, browse shoppes, play with your friends in the snow! That’s going to be a lot of fun, Phillip. Man, I wish I was you!”

Phillip giggles, “I guess you’re right.”

“’Course I am!” you tease him as he smiles. “But in order to have the most fun you possibly can, you need to get a good night’s rest,” you tell him as he nods his head. “Do you think you’ll be able to do that, Phillip?”

He takes a deep breath in and sighs with a smile, “I think so.”

Giving him a smile, you speak, “Sounds like a plan.” You offer him a high five that he gladly accepts. “Alright, my friend, go run off and have the sweetest dreams,” you tell him.

Phillip springs to his feet and runs off to his dormitory with a smile. “Goodnight, (Y/N)!” he calls as he disappears up the stairs.

You smile to yourself, looking off in his direction. Your heart swells. You loved helping out others when you could. It made you feel like you were destined to do this.

“I didn't realize how good you were with kids,” a voice speaks.

Letting out a gentle squeal, you place a hand over your heart and turn around, surprised by the sudden voice. Your eyes land on Draco who stands before you, hands tucked into his pockets. He stood and looked at you with kind eyes. You just stared at him blankly, not giving into him this time. Not again. You couldn’t bare it. “You scared me,” you simply state as you rise from the couch, ready to leave.

Draco speaks as you walk in the opposite direction towards the girls’ dormitories, “You would make a great Healer.”

You stop in your tracks. He remembered? From that conversation you had in the gardens. You tell your heart to stop fluttering in your chest as you close your eyes. Now was not the time for flattery. You were exhausted and you needed to go back to sleep. Turning towards him, you look at him, “What are you trying to do?”

This was a genuine question. Was he trying to make amends? Nights before he told you to stick to doing what you both did best. Hating each other. And now he wanted to put that one pause? That’s not how things worked.

Draco sighed, “I’m just trying to have a conversation rather than ignoring each other. Merlin, (Y/N), before the ball even happened we would talk to each other during prefect duties.”

You laughed, “We didn’t talk, we argued.” Which was true. The two of you arguing or challenging each other during prefect duties, taking turns taking a stab at the other’s pride or ego. “You wanted the relationship we had before the ball and I’m trying to do that. You on the other hand are standing in my way, Malfoy. So get out of my way and move on.”

But neither of you move. Again, you just stand there completely enraged at him, and he just staring at you with guilt in his eyes. A sight you’ve never seen before, but you don’t show any sympathy for him. He did this. He did this to you. You couldn’t bother feeling sorry for him. 

“I didn’t mean for things to end up like this,” he says quietly. You scoff. “Genuinely, I mean it.”

“You should have said that a long time ago, Malfoy. You’re seven years too late. The damage is done,” you spit at him. “The ball was stupid and us coming together over it was stupid. The ball was my chance to find someone who I could have a partnership with. We ruined it for each other and now we’ll have to wait another year until it rolls around again. And next year, I will be actively avoiding you.”

Draco opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. He tries again, but this time is interrupted. The common room door opens and in the doorway stands Tracy Davis. “Draco, are we still meeting in the astronomy tower?” she asks with a stupid girlish grin on her face.

Draco looks at her and then back at you and then back at Tracy. He gulps. “I’ll be there soon, darling. Go on without me and I’ll meet you up there,” he smiles as she giggles and closes the door. “I have to go,” he looks at the floor, too embarrassed to look at you.

With a scoff, you speak, “You work quickly, Malfoy.” He looks up at you through his eyelashes, still embarrassed. “It’s fine. No need to wait up for me. If this date of yours goes well, maybe you won’t need to be in attendance to next year’s ball. Enjoy yourself,” you speak before walking up to the girl’s dormitory.

“(Y/N)!” he calls after you, like in those romantic movies you would watch with your mother, but you don’t turn around. You continue to walk away from him. And you don’t let yourself cry this time. Instead, you walk away faster.

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

Weeks have past since you and Draco last spoke in the common room. You had made it very clear to him that you had no intention of wanting to even talk to him, even if it was competitive banter like you used to. Things were different now and there was no going back to the way things once were. And you had to be okay with that.

You had spent more time surrounding yourself with your studies and your friends, maintaining your good grades and good standing with your friends. Daphne knew that this drastic change was affecting you and she tried her best to be as supportive as she possibly could. Pansy on the other hand, clueless to your situation, simply kept to herself about your change in behavior around Draco, focusing on you and your friendship, which you always thanked her for. 

Like always, you found yourself in the library again, returning books that you were finished studying from and reading, walking through the stacks and returning them to their rightful shelves. As you walked through the library, you thought to yourself of your upcoming assignments. Potions exam coming up which you needed to receive an excellent grade on in order for your average to rise another point so you could surpass Draco in Potions. Defense Against the Dark Arts exam coming up which meant you needed to maintain your average, seeing that you and Draco had the same average. Divinations class you knew you had to participate more in in order to get in Trelawney’s good graces so you could gently ask her to bump up your previous exam grade two points to beat Draco’s average. 

As you walked around returning your books, you can’t help but have your ears perk up when you hear a certain girlish giggle coming from the back of the library. You told yourself to ignore it, but when you heard the words, “Stop it, Draco, I’m trying to concentrate!” your curiosity got the best of you.

Not to draw attention to yourself, you slithered through the stacks quietly, pretending to put away books, when in reality, you peaked through the cracks of the stacks in order to catch a glimpse of what was going on at that back table.

You knew it was wrong of you to be eavesdropping on a conversation that wasn’t yours, but honestly, after everything Draco had put you through, you didn’t give a damn at this point. 

Peaking through the stacks, you see Tracy Davis hovered over her notebook, scribbling away as Draco teasingly plucked the book from underneath her. She squealed with glee and clawed back for her notebook. “Give it back, Draco!” she whined at him with a smirk on her cherry red lips as you rolled your eyes. Her voice rippled through you like nails on a chalkboard. So shrill, so...annoying. 

Draco held the notebook over his head like he once did with you that time in the stacks, making sure it was just out of her reach. “Make me, Davis,” he teased her as she giggled throwing her head back in exaggerated laughter.

“Oh, please,” you whispered to yourself as you hastily threw a book back in the stacks. 

Their banter loudly continued on, making surrounding students roll their eyes and groan in frustration. This whole act that they were putting on was so childish. You knew that Draco was not like this around girls; this was simple an act. A facade. A ploy to make you jealous. And even though you hated to admit it, it was working.

With another shrill laugh, Tracy squealed, “Stop it, Draco!” as he tickled her sides.

You groaned, “That’s it.” Walking out of the stacks and right up to their table with confidence, you spoke, “Last time I checked, this was a library. People are working. This isn’t a place to squeal and giggle and have a tickle fight,” you say with disgust laced in every word. “So, pipe down or leave.”

Tracy’s cheeks flash bright red as she looks away from you and slowly turns back to her work. Draco on the other hand just stares at you, eyes raking you up and down, tongue pressed against his cheek. “Last time I checked you weren’t the librarian,” he hissed.

Your blood was boiling with fury as you snapped back at him, “Shouldn’t you be ass-kissing Professor Snape right now? Or is that appointment in another hour?” You could see the utter anger in Draco’s clenched jaw as you smirked in contentment. “That’s what I thought. So on behalf of the rest of the entire library, shut it.” You flash them both a sarcastic smile and walk away, rolling your eyes.

People watch you walk away in awe of your little fit of rage, but you don’t care. You just let the smirk on your face do all the talking as you walk through the library to the back towards the restricted area. You had a note from your professor to return the book you had took from there as you slid past the rope and through the stacks.

Your eyes scanned over the spines of the books as you looked to place the book you had borrowed in its proper place.

As you place the book back, you hear a voice speak, “Could you leave your fits of rage for somewhere private rather than doing them in front of the entirety of the Hogwarts library?”

A smile comes onto your lips as you turn your head to see Draco standing beside you, hands buried in his pockets and icy eyes freezing you. “You’re not supposed to be here without a note from a professor,” you simply state.

He scoffs, “Oh, fuck off. Since when have you followed any rules.”

“Since I got to this damned school. At least I know I can win fair and square without cheating my way through or without the help of my father,” you mimic him as he takes a daring step near you. “Since when have you cared about people seeing us argue? We’ve done it for seven years and just now you have a problem with it?” you spit at him as you walk away from him, deeper to the back of the restricted section.

Draco follows you deeper into the restricted section, walking and talking, “I would rather keep our conversations private from now on rather than making them public. Especially when I’m in front of a girl that I’m interested in.”

Your mouth goes dry when he says that. Tracy Davis and Draco Malfoy? Yeah, right. That would never work out. For starters, Tracy wasn’t even a pureblood, so if any relationship developed out of that, Lucius Malfoy would stop it from going any further. Not to mention, Tracy Davis was a stage nine clinger, something Draco couldn’t stand. For Merlin’s sake, when Pansy fancied Draco and she merely looked at him, he would get sick to his stomach.

Without looking at him, you speak plainly, “Poor Tracy. Stuck with a foul fool like you.”

You disappear behind a stack of books as Draco follows, grabbing your arm and spinning you around to face him. “Just because you’re jealous of Tracy doesn’t mean you have to take it out on either of us. Surely, you’re more mature than that or is that another thing I am mistaken of?” he sneers.

The adrenaline pumping through your veins was unlike anything else. You wanted to rip his head off. Draco’s words were cruel and hurtful and you were so close to hexing him and getting it over with. “For Merlin’s sake, can you just leave me be!” you pull at your roots. “You simply cannot just leave me the fuck alone ever! You can’t just let sleeping dogs lie. No. You have to have the last word, you have to be right, you have to always pour salt in the wound. And it’s always my wound. So how about this, Malfoy? I fucking hate you. I really do. Nothing excites me more than the thought of you never being in my life again after we leave this school. I can’t wait to live a life when I never have to look upon your fucking face again and feel the way I do about you!”

Draco stands there, arms across and a shit eating grin on his face. He was loving this meltdown that you were having. It was a performance for him. “Yeah? And how do you feel about me?” he eggs you on.

“I just told you! I fucking hate you,” you yell. “I hate that way you look at me with your blue eyes that stare into mine, I hate the way you smile after every nasty thing you say, I hate the way you touch me and pretend that nothing happened, I hate the way you simply brush me off and pretend like I mean nothing to you when I fucking know I do, Draco! I know I mean something to you, but you are just too pathetic to admit it!” you confess, your voice cracking.

You never meant for all of those words to come out of your mouth, but they just spilled out and couldn’t stop. You are breathing heavy as you feel a lump in your throat, but you don’t dare cry in front of him.

Draco on the other hand was just standing there, taking it all in. He didn’t realize how much you observed him. How you carefully analyzed his every move. How brilliant you were when you spoke. It was like poetry the way you talked, even if it was talking down to him. “What do you mean....that you mean something to me?” he asks for clarification.

With a deep inhalation, you take a step closer to him, with each step a warning. “I know that you are just too egotistical and prideful to admit that I mean something more to than just a school rival. Because you are scared to admit that you felt something at the ball. You are scared to admit that you wanted me at that stupid party. You are too scared to admit that even though we’re just eighteen you feel something for me. You are too scared to confess that you are falling in love with me like I am with you,” you reveal and as you say it your eyes widen and your mouth falls agape. Draco’s eyes widen and he stares at you in complete and utter shock. 

A confession. A declaration of love. In the most warped sense of the phrase. But it was a declaration nonetheless.

You stutter, trying to find the right words to defend yourself, back peddling now. Mouth agape, “I-I-I didn’t mean that, um, I, uh,” you stutter. “I don’t know what I just said, I-I blurted out something I don’t know.”

Draco speaks, “You’re falling in love with me?” His eyes search yours, but you refuse to look at him. He gently grabs your face in his hands and forces your gaze up to his. His blue eyes melt under your fiery ones. “Do you truly mean that?”

You are panicking. What were you supposed to say? Tell a lie? Tell him that all of it meant nothing to you when on the contrary, what happened at the ball was everything you could have wanted? “Draco, I...” you trail off.

“I need to know, (Y/N),” he states, eyes digging into yours, prying the truth from you. “I need to know if you’re falling in love with me, now more than ever.”

Your breath hitches in your throat and your heart stops. “Do you love me, Draco?” you retort, hoping he would say something, anything. “Please.”

Without wasting another moment, Draco’s lips crash onto yours and you immediately kiss him back. His hands cup your face as your hands rest on his forearms, pulling him in closer. The kiss is gentle, but desperate and passionate. It wasn’t quite the answer you were looking for, but in a way it was better. His lips were warm and soft, tasting of peppermint as he pulled you close. Mumbling against his lips, you speak, “Draco, I-”

He shakes his head, “Don’t say another word.”

His lips find yours again, this time more desperate than the last. You wrap your arms around his neck as his slither around your waist. Your lips are pressed firmly against each others before his hands squeeze your bottom, making you gasp, allowing him to slide his tongue into your mouth. His tongue massages yours as you moan softly into his mouth, your fingers tangling themselves into his white blonde hair. His lips press hot kisses down your jawline and neck as you lean back, allowing your flesh to be exposed to his lips. 

Frustratedly, he undoes the first few buttons of your shirt before groaning and ripping the last four buttons off. Too distracted to care, you chuckle at his eagerness. Draco stares at your chest, looking at how your breasts spill out of your bra. He places a kiss to either one of them before pushing your shirt off of you and onto the floor, your bra following shortly after.

Mimicking his previous actions, you peel Draco’s shirt off his body to reveal his surprisingly chiseled abdomen. Quidditch really worked wonders on him, huh? Your painted fingernails trace his torso as he smirks before he starts unbuckling his belt as you hastily peel off your underwear. The two of you understood that you didn’t have much time before someone would wonder where you two went or what you were doing. This needed to be quick. 

Draco pulls you close to him as you breathily giggle, him smirking. “Jump,” he commands as you do so, him hoisting you up as you wrap your legs around his torso. He grabs a condom from his pants pocket as rips it open before pulling his boxers down and rolling the latex onto his hard member. “You’re going to have to be quiet for me, darling. Can you do that for me?” he huskily whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You nod your head eagerly. Draco presses you up against the bookcase as you hold onto his shoulders. “Good. Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks, looking you in your eyes deeply, making sure that you really wanted this.

You nod again, “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my whole life,” you pant as he smiles. He lines himself up to your entrance, but before he can push himself in you grab his chin and force his gaze up to yours. “Before you do,” you tease. “I don’t want you calling me darling,” you demand as he furrows his brows. “You called her darling. I want a nickname that’s just for me and me only.”

Draco smirks and leans over into your ear. He hums, “Alright then. How’s princess?” he slowly pushes himself into you as you sigh in pleasure, digging your fingernails into his shoulder blades. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Slowly, Draco rocks in and out of you, letting you adjust to his size before picking up his speed. His hard cock rolling in and out of your wetness makes your eyes screw shut and lean your head against the bookcase. You were in complete euphoria as you feel him move in and out. You wanted to moan out his name in pleasure, but at risk of getting caught you bite down on your bottom lip and whimper. “Shit,” you whisper as Draco breathes heavily as he pumps in and out of you. “Fucking hell.”

Draco holds onto your hips tightly as he fucks you, hips rolling against yours as he fucks you against the bookcase. The books around you shake from his thrusting motions, but neither of you could care less. “Fuck, princess, you feel fucking incredible,” he breathes out as he presses kisses into your collarbones.  

You hold onto his shoulders as he continues to rock in and out, his speed increasing with each thrust, driving you mad. His thumb finds your clit, rubbing slow circles into it, sending you over the edge. “Right there, baby,” you encourage him. He continues at that speed, rubbing your clit and fucking you. “Don’t stop, don’t stop.”

Draco buries his face in your neck as you tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling gently. “You’re gonna make me come, princess,” he whispers in your ear as you whimper underneath him. “I want you to finish all over me.”

With a few more strokes, you feel a familiar sensation of a knot in the pit of your stomach and your walls tighten around his throbbing dick. “I’m close, Draco,” you whisper.

“Come, princess,” he nibbles on your delicate flesh. “Come all over my dick.”

And there you were, a writhing mess against the bookcase in the library, holding onto his shoulder for dear life as your head rolls back and mouth falls agape. Draco’s hand flies over your mouth to prevent moans from escaping your mouth, even though he wished he could hear you scream out his name in euphoria. He watches your eyes flutter close as you finish, the sight unlike anything he has ever seen before. Moments later, Draco finishes, still pumping in and out of you, riding out both of your highs as you let out muffled moans.

The two of you are panting, breathless messes as you come down from your climaxes. Draco gently puts you down, holding onto your waist as you try to stand, legs still shaking. He chuckles and pecks your lips gently. “Merlin, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he breathes as you look up at him with a soft smile. “I don’t know how I didn’t recognize those eyes when I first saw you at the ball. You have the most captivating eyes.”

You peck his lips gently before the two of you quickly toss your clothes on again and fix your appearances to look somewhat normal, even though both of your faces were flushed.

The two of you stay in silence for a little while before you speak up. “You didn’t answer my question, Malfoy,” you nudge him as he fixes his tie. He furrows his brows, confused. “I asked you if you were falling in love with me.” Draco looks into your eyes and he breathes out an uncomfortable laugh before buckling his belt. You look at him, searching his face for an answer. “Draco...” you trail off, your worries starting to bubble in your chest. “Draco, I need to know if you do.”

You didn’t want to force him into saying yes, but Merlin, you need to know if you just had sex with a man that you confessed your love to but didn’t feel the same. Draco refuses to make eye contact with you as he runs his fingers through his hair, fixing it as anxiety pools in your stomach and chest. “I told you that I was falling in love with you...and you haven’t told me how you feel yet. All you did was have sex with me,” you speak. “Look at me.”

Draco looks at you with anxiety and guilt in his eyes as your heart sinks. “Please tell me the truth,” you say.

He sighs, “Was what we did not an answer?”

“You’re avoiding the question, Malfoy,” you speak now growing frustrated.

Draco notices the name change and he gulps. “(Y/N)...I don’t know.” You inhale a shaky breath. “I really don’t know.”

You are in disbelief. In shock, you start laughing a little bit, unable to fathom the series of events that just unfolded. “But you know enough to have sex with me, no if, ands, or buts.”

“It’s not like that-”

“No, it’s exactly like that,” you hold your place. Draco lets out a defeated sigh and looks at you sadly. “So, that’s it? You...you wanted to get a confession out of me, that’s it? You wanted me to admit my feelings, fuck me, and then leave me high and dry. This whole charade...this was a part of your grand plan, wasn’t it?” you start to work yourself up.

Draco shakes his head, “Not at all, (Y/N). It’s not like that at all.”

“Well, it seems like it, Draco!” you exclaim, tossing your hands in the air, surrendering. “This whole facade you put on. That’s all it was. A facade. It was a whole lie. And I’m a fool for thinking that it was real.” Draco’s face drops and he reaches out for you as you take a step back. “Well, you know what. You win, Draco. I accept defeat. You win. Congratulations, Draco Malfoy. You’ve beat me at your own game. I hope you’re happy,” you tell him. 

“(Y/N), stop please.”

“This is the last time you get to hurt me, Malfoy. But now I see you for who you truly are. Your mask has finally come off and now I see you for the coward you truly are.”

Without staying any longer, you run out of the restricted section, abandoning everything. Tears pool in your eyes as you leave, walking out of the library. You don’t even given him the chance to call out your name. You didn’t want to know that there was hope for the two of you. You shook your head, shame on you for not knowing better. He won. Game over.

But this time, you had ripped off his mask and saw his true colors. The masquerade was over.

------

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[mrsbbridgerton]

The Moment I Knew// Anthony Bridgerton - Chapter 5

Word Count : 1910

Warnings: Smutty Smut Smut !! 18+ Only

A/N: based on this request from @albeeox. Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 6 - Part 7

You didn’t expect your parents back any time soon. As much as these balls were usually held with the motive to find ladies husbands, your parents both loved them and you knew they’d probably be some of the last guests to leave. You made your way to your chambers, going to your dressing room for your maid to get you ready for bed before sending her to bed and brushing out your own hair and tying it back in a bow. Just as you were about to crawl into bed you had an inclination for some warm milk to help you sleep so you took your candle and quietly crept downstairs, not wanting to wake any staff to go to the kitchen and get some.

Just as you made it to the pantry you heard a fist bang on the front door. The noise shocked you and almost made you drop the bottle of milk you were holding. With trembling hands, you approached the door. You didn’t know what to expect but by the sound of the knock it wasn’t your parents: you had thought to call a footman but you didn’t want to appear haughty or indeed silly if it turned out not to be a very polite assassin. You set down your candlestick to one side and pulled your dressing gown over you as you opened the door.

Standing the other side of the threshold was Anthony Bridgerton; one hand leaning against the frame as he waited. He looked like he had run across London to get there, his appearance dishevelled, as though he had been in a fight. “Y/N” he inhaled; he took his hands in your own as he pressed his lips to yours. He was hot and desperate as his other arm came around you to pull you in. No sooner had you melted in to him than he pulled back. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry” he breathed, mere inches from your face.

“Anthony what is it? Are you hurt? Come inside.” You pulled him in and looked around the square briefly, to make sure nobody had seen before closing the door.

“I am to duel the Duke of Hastings tomorrow.” He said as you turned back to him.

“What” you gasped. “He has disgraced Daphne irreparably and refuses to marry her. I have challenged him to a duel: we meet at sunrise.” He finished, coming to hold both of your hands in his own. You stood between him and the door, his figure towering over you as his deep dark eyes bore into your own: you searched them, trying to make sense of it all. “I’m sorry for everything I said. I hated being apart from you, not being able to touch you, hold you.” He whispered, kissing your throat. “I should have courted you properly I see that now. I just … I …” he rested his forehead against yours, taking a ragged breath to calm himself.

“Anthony” you whispered, not knowing what else to say. He raised his head so he was looking into your eyes again.

“I love you. I love you, and whatever the outcome of tomorrow I need you to know.” He croaked, cupping your face. You leaned in an inch more and connected your lips again, your hand coming up to Anthony’s chest, pulling him as close as possible so that he could not be parted from you. Anthony’s hands explored your body, caressing your sides and sending chills up your spine through the thin fabric of your nightdress. His hands made it to your thighs and hoisted you up, pulling them around his hips as he manoeuvred you back to your bedroom.  With the door to your bedroom firmly closed Anthony pressed you against the wall, continuing his kisses along the column of your exposed neck.

“Anthony, please!” you whined, pulling him closer with every limb, the memory of the first time he had you like this still fresh in your mind. He rutted into you, forgetting himself in your warmth for a moment before pulling back, holding contact with you for a second, gauging your consent. “Y/N, I might die tomorrow. And if I don’t, I cannot stay in London, perhaps not even England. I will have to flee.” You stopped him with a kiss to his lips. He had only just returned to your arms; you did not want to think of being parted from him again.”

“Anthony, I want you; I’ve never wanted anyone else.” You smile sadly into the kiss, his hand coming up to cup your face as he walked you back to your bed, laying you down gently before standing straight. You watched as he shucked his jacket off followed by his waistcoat, pulling his cravat free with a smirk as you watched his shirt fall open. He toed off his boots and crawled up your body and into your arms. His damp curls fell over his eyes as he leaned over you, eyeing you up as he leant in to kiss you for the millionth time that night before retracing his movements back down your body, lifting your thin cotton nightdress with each brush of his rough hands up your thighs.

Anthony began kissing the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs, smirking to himself when he heard a soft gasp from above. Oh, how he had missed that sound. Any little gasp that left your lips at his touch made him burn for you. his soft breath fanned across your entrance and heat flooded you from your cheeks to your core as he teased you further, nuzzling into the crease in your thigh and leaving rough kisses to the intimate skin before turning his head to capture your bud in his mouth. His tongue swept through your slick folds, lapping up everything his could as his electric touch made your thighs quake around his ears.

Your hand shot down to hold his head to you, carding your fingers through his thick hair as you sought to steady yourself. You felt his fingertips stroke your entrance whilst his lips focussed their affections on a spot that made your hips buck. He prodded gently, slowly sliding the first finger into your dripping folds, groaning at the feel of you, your heat and constriction something he would never get over. He struggled to control himself at the sensation of your pulsing heat around just one finger; he breathed hard and steady through his nose as he waited for you to become accustomed to him. When your hips bucked into his face, he smiled smugly, slowly retracting before adding a second and watching with awe as you wriggled under his touch, your flushed complexion and soft moans making him rut into the mattress below.

He was entranced by your state; eyes closed as you pushed your hips up into his hand. Anthony brushed his thumb over your clit, making you jump and open your eyes. You looked up at him to see him biting his lip and smiling at you. You smiled back, beckoning him up to you and into a kiss; hands wandering over his broad back, pulling at his billowing shirt, urging it off his shoulders. His mouth never left yours and you could taste yourself on his tongue, making you groan and bit his lip. “Anthony, please. I want you.” Your pleading sent blood roaring through his body. He quickly shucked off the rest of his clothes, leaving him naked before you.

Your eyes searched all over his body, his broad shoulders were muscled and thick, the hair on his chest was as dark as that on his head and trailed down to a finish at the base of his groin. You sat up and pulled him back to the bed, letting your hand wander his naked body as his own came to push your nightdress the rest of the way up yours and slip it off. The chill in the room was quickly quelled by Anthony’s arms around you; his warm hands sliding up and down the soft curves of your body just as yours did his. His hand came to cup your buttocks, pulling your leg over his as he bent his head down to lavish your clavicle, kissing his way down to take a nipple into his mouth. You sighed into the air at the sensation, his tongue flicking over you exquisitely as his cock pressed against your thigh.

Taking a soft hold, you stroked it lightly, feeling it’s warmth and weight as it twitched in your hand. You looked up to see Anthony’s mouth hanging open, brows furrowed as he watched you work him. He brought one of his hands to wrap around yours, tightening your grip around him as he thrust lightly into your fist. You marvelled at the feel of it, rock hard in your hand. You grew bolder with each tug, bringing your thumb over, as he had you, to brush against the tip: a small pearl of liquid strung out as Anthony let out a full breath.

His hand grasped your buttocks again, pulling you over him as his fingers swept lower to feel you - your dripping centre wetting his thigh. Your fell caught yourself on his chest as his fingers entered you once more, stroking deeper within you at this angle. Anthony watched with awe as you rocked against his thigh; pushing back on his fingers as you stroked his cock between your parted thighs. He rolled his head over your clit, watching as you arched up into the room, your nipples forming stiff peaks. “Keep your eyes on mine.” He whispered lovingly: sitting up to rest his forehead against your own as he slipped down and pushed into you, feeling your hot walls envelop him.

You gasped at the intrusion, feeling yourself pulse and relax around him, urging him to move within you. You rutted your hips against his own, hands curling into fists as he began thrusting - each roll of his hips feeling better than the last. Anthony changed angle slightly, rolling you onto your side pulling your leg up and around his hip, letting him reach deeper at an angle that made you keen. Your nails raked down his back, urging him on with a howl. Anthony into your neck, mouth open and eyes like a beast as he rocked himself into you, feeling you tense further around him. The stimulation of your nipples against his chest almost made you weep. The silence in the room lingering between you, thick with tension as you locked eyes and chased your highs together. Anthony murmured words of love into your mouth as his thrusts became urgent, his eyes scanning your face, memorising the way you looked in this moment. As you reached your peak you clung to him, pleasure rippling through your body as he joined you in ecstasy – hips bucking wildly into yours as he spent himself.

His tensed muscles relaxed as you slumped in a sweaty pile on your bed. Your hand strayed from the back of his head, down his back, stroking gently as you savoured the moment – a small tear escaping your eye as you thought of what tomorrow would bring.

The next morning you awoke to a cold bed. The impression of Anthony’s head still on the pillow beside you: as you stroked it and remembered his scent, tears flowed freely from your eyes.

[xo-gossipwitch]

Malfoy, Granger, Greengrass (elder) and Nott have been inseparable since the hospital wing incident. Is double dating a thing now?

Spotted: An unlikely alliance between two of Hogwarts' romantic royalty since that night they spent together in the infirmary. Maybe it's not blood that makes a family, but rather the people who know you and love you anyway. That way, you can finally just be yourself.

~xoxo, Gossip Witch

Hermione let out a sigh as she collapsed into the couch in the Slytherin common room. She closed her eyes for a few moments as she took a few deep breaths. Everything had been so chaotic since she had gotten out of the infirmary a few weeks ago. Madam Pomfrey had no answers for why she had fainted, and the muggle doctor she had been able to get in contact with had no logical explanations either.

All Hermione knew was that she and Draco had gotten into a spat about his parents' archaic views of blood status marriages, and then the room started to spin as she got light-headed. When she woke up, Madam Pomfrey was shining a light in her eyes, checking for a pupillary response. It wasn't her proudest moment, but at the same time, Hermione knew her body was doing exactly what it needed to do to stay safe - even if it meant a minor scare for everyone else in her life.

She heard the door to the common room creak open, so she tucked her legs against the arm of the couch so she couldn't be seen by whoever was entering the room, but she could hear them if they spoke.

"I'll never understand these stupid boys," Pansy groaned, huffing as she made her way across the room. "What's so great about your sister that she can get them all twisted up in knots and dotting on her every need? Hell, even Malfoy's been following her around like a lost puppy dog since Gossip Witch revealed her pregnancy."

"Though I don't want to speak ill of her because she's my sister, Daphne's got a way about her when it comes to getting what she wants," Astoria replied, shaking her head. "All she needs to do is bat her blue eyes and pout her lips, and they'll all come running, even if they are supposedly head over heels with someone else."

"Was that a jab at Theo?" Pansy asked, snickering.

"Malfoy," Astoria replied. "He might say he's in love with Granger, but they'll never end up together. He'll go through with the marriage contract that his mummy and daddy arrange for him."

"Which family do you think they are looking to make arrangements with?" Pansy asked, starting to climb the stairs to the dorm rooms.

"Mine," Astoria sighed, following behind her raven-haired friend. "And all I can hope is that my parents marry my sister off instead of me."

Hermione blinked her eyes a few times as she felt the tears starting to well up in the corners and took a deep breath. When she finally felt like she had her emotions in order, she pushed herself up off the couch and started to make her way to the door, stopping only when she heard her name.

"Hermione," Daphne's voice stilled Hermione in her tracks. Letting out a sigh and forcing a smile on her face, she turned around to greet her friend.

"Hey, Daphne," she said, "how are you?"

"I'm alright, tired," Daphne shrugged, looking her friend up and down. "Are you okay? You've been crying."

"I'm fine," Hermione replied, shaking her head. " I promise."

Daphne shook her head and reached for Hermione's hand, dragging her over to the couch. "Sit," she said, pointing to the empty spot beside her as she sat down.

Hermione shook her head, pulling her arm away from Daphne. She crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm fine. Just heard something that rubbed me the wrong way, and I needed to get some fresh air."

Daphne stared at her for a minute. "Like hell, you're fine. I walked past my sister and Pansy on the stairs coming down here. I know what you heard, and why didn't you say something to let them know you were here?"

"I'm not supposed to be in here," Hermione shrugged.

"I know you aren't, so I was getting to that," Daphne laughed. "How did you get in here?"

"I said I had prefect duties to attend to," Hermione sighed, collapsing down onto the couch beside Daphne and laying her head in Daphne's lap.

"So you lied," Daphne chuckled, brushing a strand of hair out of Hermione's face. "What were you realistically hoping to do in here?"

"Honestly, I just wanted some peace. The Patil twins and their cohort of colleagues have taken over the library, and the librarian won't let me reserve the restricted section for just me anymore. Apparently, someone has been using that section of the library for things other than research."

"I heard that rumor too. Although, the last I heard, someone said it was you and Draco hanging out in there after hours," Daphne teased.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Draco's barely touched me in weeks. Ever since that damn dinner with his parents, he's been avoiding me. I was honestly surprised that he stayed in the infirmary with me as long as he did."

"He never left your side," Daphne reassured her. "Even when you were sleeping, he sat in that chair and watched you sleep. I've never seen anyone so devoted to another human like that."

"You know Theo did the same thing with you," Hermione replied, looking up at her friend. She shook her head when she noticed Daphne rolling her eyes. Lifting her head from Daphne's lap, Hermione positioned herself on the couch to look at her. "I'm serious."

"He's like my brother," Daphne replied, shaking her head.

"I don't think I've ever seen anyone kiss their brother the way that you kissed Theo in the Great Hall the other night," Hermione replied, raising her brow. "He loves you, Daphne."

Daphne shook her head. "We're not talking about my love life right now. Besides, all of that will go to hell in a few more weeks when I start showing," she said, placing her hand on her stomach.

"You aren't going through this alone," Hermione said, reaching over and covering Daphne's hand with her own. "You've got me and Theo, plus Draco too. According to your sister, he might be your future husband based on the contracts the Sacred 28 are creating."

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Tori just likes to hear herself talk. Don't let her running her mouth influence the way you feel about Draco and your relationship. Everything will work out exactly the way it's supposed to be."

Spotted: An unlikely alliance forming on the couch in the Slytherin common room. Remember witches; the walls have ears.

~xoxo, Gossip Witch ~

Want to be a part of the Gossip Witch fun?

This story is meant to be slightly interactive. Submit anonymous blasts about the students at Hogwarts and you might find your prompt used as inspiration in a future chapter! Submit your blasts to the @xo-gossipwitch blog on tumblr.

Thanks for continuing to inspire this story!

[chusui00]

Not Meant To Be

Word Count: 2,107

Pairing(s): Anthony Bridgerton x reader, Simon Basset x reader

Summary: The Bridgerton family and the Duke have been invited to a picnic that was planned by yours truly. Tensions begin to grow, and things don’t go quite as you hoped they would.

TW: none

Part 2/6

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

Today’s weather of sunshine and blue skies called for a picnic. I gave clear instructions to Cook that he should prepare a delicious meal and treats, including Simon’s favorite of gooseberry pie. I would never forget something so important about him because it always came in handy.

I then go to find our butler, Charles, and say, “Please send invitations to the Bridgertons and the Duke of Hastings, Charles. There will be a picnic at the park, and do tell them that it will be late at 1pm.” He bows in response, and repeated my words before he left to complete his tasks.

With a nod of satisfaction, I left the main floor then up the stairwell to change my attire. What I was currently wearing fell short of today’s planned event, and I needed to win Simon back. Once inside my bedroom, I closed the door and quickly strode to the wardrobe to see my options.

My thoughts roamed to the man who promised that we would spend the rest of our lives together, which made my blood boil with rage. Men these days were either too dense or too arrogant or had little backbone. Simon was a mixture of having a huge ego and vulnerable when he opens up to the people that know his true personality.

None of this was my fault whatsoever. I left for only a mere three months to study abroad in France, then I return to the ‘wonderful’ news of his engagement to a girl named Daphne Bridgerton. A trip to London hadn’t been something I expected for myself, but I came to the city for him and no other reason.

In truth, Simon technically was still my fiancé, although I knew there was an explanation for everything that took place while I was absent. As a matter of fact, he brushed off the situation like it was a speck of dust that ruined his perfect image to the desperate mamas and equally egotistical lords.

“Good heavens, I’m going to get wrinkles if I keep thinking about the “what-ifs” and not do anything to change them.” I huff in exasperation at my own foolishness, a bit disappointed in myself for having such thoughts when the damage had yet to be done.

After endless decision-making, I chose to wear a yellow dress with a simple pink floral design from the sleeves to the hem of its skirt, and I twirl in front of the mirror with a bright smile. It wasn’t a ball gown, but this would surely make Simon realize that he wants me more than anyone in all of Grovensor Square. It just had to.

I had to admit, the dress itself was too revealing for a lady of my status. Well, at least it would be just myself, Simon, and the Bridgertons alone for a picnic. A reminder to cover my legs repeated itself over and over in my mind, yet I had a feeling that I would catch the attention of everyone’s eyes anyway.

The clock rang the second its big small hand reached 12pm, which meant there was an hour left for preparations and riding to the park. “Marianne! Please call for the carriage, and tell chef to hurry!” I shouted into the air, and I heard Marianne reply from down the hall. Perhaps I was rushing for punctuality-sake, but a host or hostess must never arrive later than their guests.

It was a good thing that mama had long left for tea at Lady Farland’s estate, and papa was probably gambling at the gentlemen’s club again. I certainly wouldn’t be surprised if he came home with news that he either won lost of money or lost a majority of what he gambled. No one could tell me that the picnic was meant to open Simon’s eyes and see just me in them rather than that so-called “flawless” Bridgerton girl.

Nonetheless, I had to get going before they gossiped of my tardiness if I wasn’t already at the location. Time seemed to blur from when I scurried down the stairs to gather everything I needed to when I got into the carriage and made it safely to the park. The next thing I knew, I was trying my best not to laugh at a discreetly explicit joke Benedict had shared amongst ourselves.

Anthony looked like he was going to strangle his brother or maybe he was going to give him a pat on the shoulder? I couldn’t tell because I was too preoccupied with devouring my favorite sandwich while I brushed my shoulder against Simon’s. Of course this got his attention, and he whispered into my ear, “Now is not the time nor place to play, y/n. Behave yourself.”

His warning provoked something inside of me, but there were too many people who would witness the indecency behind my innocent act. “My apologies, your Grace. I’ll be a good girl for you.” I whispered in reply, then continued to enjoy my delicious sandwich as though I did nothing wrong in the first place.

I knew what I was doing to him, and he liked it. He knew what would happen if I went further, and I was fanning the flames with fervor. “Is Daphne aware of our relationship? Sorry, I meant, what it was supposed to become? You know, such as getting married? Living together and in the country?”

Simon’s jaw clenched just like when he used to have me underneath him, calling his name and coming undone by his touch as I squeezed tighter around him. Those nights were by far the best I had ever experienced, and he treated me with such tenderness after we were spent.

“Don’t you remember the great times we had, love? Everything fell apart when I came to London and found you dancing with the red-headed girl in the moonlight.” I scowled under my breath, then I slowly calmed myself down before I could ruin this lovely picnic with a beautiful family and my old lover.

I needed a moment alone, so I stood up and sheepishly excused myself from the blanket before walking away. It was almost as though the night I found myself standing at the lake was repeating itself again, but this time, I knew where I was going and no tears would shed. No, this time was different than last. Instead of crying because I couldn’t control some situations, I chose to think about I would take back Simon for myself.

Seeing Simon chuckle and comment on every little thing Daphne said created small cracks on my heart. I couldn’t think of when he used to do that with me, and I close my eyes to forget all of the recently bad memories. Heavy footsteps approached from behind, but I was too distracted by the wrong Simon had done to me.

“Y/n, are you alright? You left so suddenly, and everyone is worried about you.” Anthony softly called out to me, his hand resting on my shoulder to turn me around and see the miserable state I was in. “I’ll be better, my lord. There’s no need to waste your worry on me.” I mustered a fake smile to dissipate his concern for me, but apparently he had dealt with heartbroken maidens before.

The Viscount gently pulled me into his arms, and rocked our bodies back and forth. I was speechless for I had no idea what he was doing, and yet I didn’t want him to stop. It felt pleasant to be comforted by a warm embrace that held a promise of always being there when it was most needed in times of anguish.

“You are a strong woman, y/n. You don’t need to act as though nothing can break through your walls. You’re still human, and that’s okay. Believe me, I know what it’s like to feel helpless.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, and smiled when I pulled away to stare at him with wide eyes. I always knew what kind of man he was, but the side of him that I admired truly was a rare sight to behold.

What felt like an eternity of comfortable silence was interrupted by Eloise who came searching for her brother and I after he had been gone for too long. “Mama won’t stop spouting nonsense that you’ve gotten lost, brother. We had to stop her from creating a search party.” She snickered at the fresh memory, and it stopped when she realized that Anthony was hugging me unusually close to his chest.

I caught on and quickly pushed myself away, then I fixed my dress before thanking her. “Thank you for taking the responsibility, Eloise. You’ve found us alright, and I believe we best return to your family.” Anthony cleared his throat, a big embarrassed that the particular sister of his had seen something she would never let go.

“Yes, Miss Denbow is right. Let’s return before mother actually gathers a search party for three people.” He leads the way, and I smile awkwardly at Eloise as I walk past her. I then let out a breath I didn’t know I had been holding in since she found Anthony and I, but I hoped that she wouldn’t mention it when we got back to the picnic.

Once there, Lady Bridgerton literally shed tears of joy as soon as she saw my face and brought me into a hug. What was with the Bridgertons and hugging? I could see Simon lean over to Anthony, his mouth forming the words, “Thank you for bringing her back safely.” Anthony nodded in reply, then sat down in between Colin and Benedict before he grabbed his glass of wine to take quite a long sip.

Well, it was back to where I started. I didn’t want to ask questions and make matters worse, but I knew that the current engagement wasn’t going to last for long. According to Lady Whistledown, Queen Charlotte was not convinced of the proclaimed love that everyone said Simon and Daphne shared.

I had to say it. Otherwise, I would lose the love of my life to a woman who gained Her Majesty’s favor, and I would be lonely until the day I die. “The Duke and I were once lovers, but now he’s going to marry Miss Bridgerton.” Complete and utter silence. I take in a deep breath before I continue.

“I had traveled to France for three months, and the Duke asked me to come see him here, in London. I truly thought that he was going to marry me, but I was proven wrong and a fool. He’s pretending as though we didn’t have a beautiful relationship before he chose to help her and she him.”

Lady Bridgerton was the first to break, and she began to stumble over her words while overcoming the insurmountable shock that I gave to everyone. Eloise tried what she could to stop herself from laughing, Benedict smacked her arm while he was struggling to do the same.

Colin couldn’t find the right words, and Anthony spat out his wine. Except for the two youngest children who were playing in a flower field, we adults all sat together with no help to describe what our mixed emotions were. “What is the matter with you, y/n? Did you even think this through before you babbled on about the past? If I had known that you were so childish, I would’ve left you a long time ago.”

Simon glared cold daggers in my direction, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. The man who I loved was now a stranger with a much better woman than I, so there was nothing I could do now to take him back. “You’re right, Simon. I’m such a child, and I don’t know any better than to tell the truth when living a lie is all the more tempting.”

I gave my deepest apologies to Lady Bridgerton, promising her that I would make up for my demeanor with tea and a visit to the spa one day. I then said my farewells to the Bridgertons, but I didn’t spare the slightest of glances to Simon who looked like he was going to let out a fury of anger.

It served him right for playing with my heart, and if he was so play a part not meant for him that would end in heartbreak, then so be it. I knew someone who could help me make him regret losing me, and they were a professional when it came to such lengths.

Just you wait, Simon Basset. Just you wait.