#and my lovely friend Jane drew my attention to it

[last-herondale]

When to say Goodbye

Loki x Femreader!

Warnings: Alcoholism, Mentions of Addiction, cursing ANGST A/N: I had an experience similar to this interaction recently, and in my mind it seemed perfect for a Loki fic. When someone you love is struggling, how do you know if you're helping them, or if you're part of the problem? Enjoy

The first portion of the evening passed along well enough. The dinner party was a quaint affair at a fancy restaurant. Tony made the arrangements and bought out a nice private venue just outside of New York and paid the workers extra for a “privacy” insurance. No phones. No cameras. Everyone signed an NDA, which everyone other than Tony thought was unnecessary. It wasn’t everyday that the god of thunder came to visit Earth, and it certainly wasn’t everyday that he announced his engagement to his longtime girlfriend Jane Foster. 

Thor had assured all of us that he and his fiancee had celebrated on Asgard, and that the need for a dinner was unnecessary. And despite Thor’s rather weak attempts to stop Tony from going overboard, Mr. Stark, like always, had his way. It was a well attended event. From Earth, Tony was able to assemble most of the Avengers, such as Steve, Bruce, Natasha, Clint, Rhodey, Sam, Bucky, Wanda, Vision, and even begrudgingly decided to bring Scott along. And you, of course.

Thor invited his own entourage. The ever kind Jane, and the guardians. It was a pleasant surprise to see Quill and the gang, as they seemed busy with their crossworld travels, and hardly visited Earth. Rocket immediately took to the bar, with Groot on his tail, and conversation began to flow freely between friends. There were a few late arrivals, such as Strange, and Parker. You eyed the crowd a bit eagerly, not able to shake off the anxiety building in your chest. He should be here.

Perhaps it was for the best he didn’t show. 

Things didn’t usually end well whenever he showed up. For you anyway. 

After dinner, a large cake was brought out and placed before Thor and Jane. It was a beautiful 3 tier white chocolate cake, with a flourish of flowers adorning the dessert. Just as Tony was finishing a speech, and passing the mic down the table, the doors to the venue opened up, causing everyone to turn their heads. You knew before you looked. Your heart lurched in your chest and you felt your blood run cold. 

Loki came sauntering in. He was dressed for the occasion, in a nice shirt and slacks, with a jacket thrown over his shoulder. His hair was slicked back into a bun, and he wore the usual bravado smirk on his lips and he drew nearer to the table. He was glad to have the room’s attention. This was his goal all along. 

Tony seemed to come to the same conclusion too, his brows furrowed with annoyance. “Nice of you to join us Reindeer,” he mused. Thor was delighted to see his brother and commanded one of the workers to bring in a chair. 

“No need, brother,” Loki said wryly. His eyes surveyed the room until they settled on you. “I see an open seat.”

You clenched your fists as they rested on your lap. Steve was finishing his own speech as Loki pulled up a chair beside you. You could smell the liquor on him immediately. The sickly sweet smell of it lingered in the air between you. Of course he would show up to his brother’s engagement party hammered. What else did you expect? 

You refused to look at him, wanting to pay attention to Steve’s speech, or Mantis playing with her fork, or literally anything other than him. But of course he was not going to make it easy for you. He knew his affect on you. 

“Has the night been terribly dull without me, pet?” his words echoed in your mind. Even then, there was a bit of a slur to them. You clenched your jaw and shook your head. You did not want to play his games tonight. You had promised yourself to be present and in the moment rather than dedicating yourself to Loki and his needs. Steve finished his speech, and Thor rose to make a toast to his future wife. You raised your glass with the rest, and noticed from the corner of your eye that Loki did the same.

“Not talking to me tonight I see,” he thought with a laugh, “Haven’t you missed me my sweet? I’ve missed you– my pet. I can’t wait until I have you alone, once this dreadful night is over. Gods– how I need you. I might have celebrated a bit prematurely in honor of the Mighty’s Thor’s wedding announcement, which of course mother and father were just thrilled by–”

Thor finished his toast and everyone drank their champagne. You tossed yours back, anger flaring in your eyes and you turned to Loki sharply. He was expecting this reaction, and he met you with an amused face as he slowly sipped on his drink.

“Do not make tonight about you!” you yelled back in his mind. You turned away from him once more and focused on Jane and Thor cutting the cake as the room filled with applause. His hand rested on your thigh, his fingers grazing your dress under the table. 

“Love–” he began, his thoughts turning into a small whine, like a pouting child. You grabbed his wrist and violently removed it from your thigh. He did not resist, even though his strength far outmatched yours. He stilled beside you, keeping whatever thoughts to himself, registering your anger even in his drunken state. 

As dessert passed around, you kept your attention to Drax, who sat on the other side of you. Although he was not one for long conversations, you tried your best to reach through to him to occupy your mind. After the table was cleared, the party moved to the bar area and the dance floor. The party was starting to liven up, as the alcohol poured more freely and the tempo of the music picked up. 

Loki disappeared from your sight, and your anxiety grew significantly. He was unpredictable, especially when he was intoxicated, and especially when an event revolved around Thor. He had made amends with his brother years ago. Loki swore off his retaliation once he realized that was in fact loved by his brother. It was a hard pill to swallow. He had struggled for a while with coexisting with Thor, but you knew Loki feared who he would become without him. Who he would become if loneliness won again.

You had seen him try. It was a wondrous thing to behold. Loki decided to train with the Avengers, under extreme supervision of course, but Thor deemed it necessary for his redemption. Tony nearly outright refused, but Steve fought for his chance. “Everyone should have a shot at a second chance,” Steve had said to the team. It was left to a vote then. You were the last to vote. It was split. Half of the team didn’t trust Loki, which was to be expected. The other half, following Steve’s leadership, agreed that there might be a chance to redeem Loki. 

It was up to you. 

You believed in redemption. You believed in second chances. So it had been obvious. It was easy to decide. It was everything that came after… that became difficult.

While the party turned up, and everyone was dancing and mingling, you found yourself lingering next to the bar. You told yourself not to look for him, but you couldn’t help it. It's as if your body was on autopilot, searching for any sign of him to make sure he was okay. It was pathetic. It was exhausting. And yet it was the only thing you seemed to be able to do.

Mantis awkwardly made her way towards the bar, her antennas twitching a bit as she approached. Her presence made you avert your eyes from the crowd and paint a soft smile. You had always liked Mantis. 

“Hey, Mantis,” you said softly. She greeted you with a smile and took a seat next to you. She ordered water and seemed content to just sit there with you for a moment as the party continued. It wasn’t until a couple of songs passed that Mantis finally spoke.

“You’re very anxious tonight.” 

It wasn’t a question. You knew she could sense your emotions on you. That they radiated to her like waves that she alone could read and decipher. There was little sense in lying to her,

“Yes,” was all you said.

Mantis held out her hand gently, her eyes curious as she looked at you.

“May I?” 

You immediately placed your hand in hers, letting the entirety of your emotions flow into her like a river. It was a momentary relief. To allow someone to bare the weight of your heart in its fullness. She did not flinch away from you.

“You love him,” she said, tilting her head as she looked at the bar, “And this brings you great pain.”

You shuddered a breath. “Why?” you asked quietly. You knew the answer. Deep down you always knew. Mantis looked at you with a soft indifference. She was not malicious in her words. She was only speaking to what she could feel. 

“You’re afraid–” 

Mantis was cut off by a swiftly approaching Jane. Your body straightened at the sight of her looking somewhat distraught, clearly trying to hold her appearance together. Her eyes were focused on you and you alone. 

“Excuse me, Mantis,” you murmured as you rose from your chair and met Jane halfway.

“Oh thank god,” Jane said in a low voice.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, your eyes searching behind Jane for any sort of disturbance. 

“It’s Loki,” Jane sighed, “He’s drunk, Tony’s drunk– they’re having words outside on the patio. I stepped out for some air, and things seemed to be getting tense– I didn’t want to get Thor because we all know how calm he can be…”

You put a gentle hand on Jane’s shoulder. She was no fool. She knew at least bits and pieces of your relationship with Loki, enough to warrant her coming to you for assistance. 

“I’ll handle Loki,” you said sternly, “Go enjoy your party Jane, please.” You bent forward and gave her a soft peck on the cheek and hurried yourself to the patio. No one seemed to notice you move across the party, and once you entered the patio space, you saw Loki pointing a finger in Tony’s direction. 

“Tony,” your voice rang out clear and strong. This got Loki’s attention first. The sound of your voice snapped him out of his intense staredown with Tony long enough for Tony to look in your direction.

“Pepper needs you, she’s on the phone. Says it's urgent.”

It was a messy lie, but it did the job. Tony in his drunken state, widened his eyes and sloppily hurried his way back to the party. Once he was inside, you locked the door behind him and turned around to Loki, who was scowling with his arms crossed. You stood there, your arm wrapped around yourself.

“I was perfectly fine. There was no need for your interference,” he said bitterly.

“I am tired, Loki,” you whispered. You weren’t sure if he had heard you. There was still the dull beating of the music pounding just behind you. You moved away from the door, walking closer to Loki, standing a few feet away from him. You looked at him, unable to hold back the sadness in your eyes any longer. His eyes wandered your face for a moment, his face a bit slack and nonchalant. 

“I’m sorry,” Loki sighed, “This isn’t fair for you, I realize that. And yet…”

You let out a short laugh through your nose. “And yet here we are, again. Here I am, standing here between you and yourself– making excuse after excuse for you. So, I’ll ask you this, why? Why should I keep doing it? Why, Loki?”

“I need you,” Loki said immediately. His voice was soft, but stern. He was being as serious as he could be. You knew he meant it, believed it even, but you weren’t sure if it really mattered anymore. He took a step forward, almost as if he could sense the doubt radiating from your body. He knew your body well. You held his gaze as he moved closer.

“My life would be very different if it weren’t for you. You got me here, you’re why I can even step foot on this planet… I would have burned if you had not been there–”

“I have only fanned the fucking flames!” you hissed, inching closer to him. “What have I done for you, but cater to your every whim? Even when you continue to prove to me that you would rather drown in your own indignation than try to move forward in life. I humor you by being there every time you call me in a drunken stupor. Because let's be honest with ourselves, Loki, you only ever call me anymore when you are blacked out drunk, or in some dire need to drown your senses and need someone to drown with you.

“And I do. When it comes to choosing between you and my own fucking common sense, I always choose you. I drown with you because I would rather die every night with the sensation of fire in my lungs than deal with the constant breaking of my heart–” your words croak out at the end. You turned away violently as tears began to well up in your eyes. 

“Wait, wait,” he said desperately, his hand gripping your shoulder as he quickly placed himself in front of you. “I’m sorry, truly. I fucked, I fucked up. I keep fucking everything up. I hate myself for how I am… it's not a reflection of you. It’s never, gods it's never you. I know I have a problem, and I hate that I drag you into my mess. I am a selfish creature. I crave your company more than I desire your wellbeing, for if I truly cared, I would send you away, or love you like you deserve to be loved, totally and completely... But… I can’t. I can’t.”

His eyes search yours in desperation. His chest is heaving under his words and his hand runs up your shoulder until he is cupping your cheek. “I love you. Please understand that. As much as I can, in whatever capacity my heart can love, I do love you. I don’t know who I would be without you. You are my best friend.”

Tears fell down your cheeks. “I love you too,” you nearly moaned in despair, “And that’s the problem, Loki. I love you, and yet I continue to watch you destroy yourself. You constantly compare yourself to Thor, even now that you’ve made amends. You think you are unworthy of redemption and so you hide from it. You flee from it like a child and you run to me. And I have spoiled you, haven’t I? I have given you what you wanted, a distraction, a momentary blindness to the realness of your own life. But I have failed to give you what you needed. Failed to give myself what I needed.”

Loki looked like a broken thing. His face pained in ways that you had only seen momentarily. You tilted your head a bit as you continued. “Now look at us, love,” you whispered to him, “We are both dying.” You felt a cooling calm wash over you. An odd numbness that made time seem to slow down. You recognized the beating of your own heart, and the soft thumping of the pulse in his thumb on your cheek. 

This was finally time. 

“Please,” he murmured softly, desperately, “I can’t bare it.”

He did not cry or resist when you took his hand off of your face. You held his gaze for a while longer, savoring the last memories you would have of him. It took all of your strength to step away from him. It felt like ripping off a limb. 

“I love you,” you said gently, holding eye contact with him as you continued to step away. He did not follow you, or speak again. He simply kept his gaze on you, his brows furrowed in discomfort. Your heart ached in ways you never knew were possible. “But I will no longer play a part in your own undoing.”

And with that you were gone. You hardly remembered walking out of the venue, or getting into a cab, or even arriving home. Loki’s face was branded in your mind. You thought of that last look, that last devastated look as you lay your head down on your pillow that night. You would not sleep that night. You would not sleep for many nights to come.

[my-deer-history]

On partiality

A few thoughts on why 'partiality' - even more than 'love' - is an important expression in Hamilton and Laurens’ correspondence.

Partiality is a word that denotes fondness, preference or bias for one person over others, often used in sentimental writing as a synonym for love (both familial and romantic). Jane Austen uses both forms in Pride and Prejudice (1813):

Miss Bennet’s astonishment was soon lessened by the strong sisterly partiality which made any admiration of Elizabeth appear perfectly natural [...] I had often seen him in love before. […] From that moment I observed my friend’s behaviour attentively; and I could then perceive that his partiality for Miss Bennet was beyond what I had ever witnessed in him.

Hamilton himself uses partiality in the context of love in a letter to Elizabeth Schuyler:

I believe in my soul you are an inchantress; but I have tried in vain, if not to break, at least, to weaken the charm—you maintain your empire in spite of all my efforts—and after every new one, I make to withdraw myself from my allegiance my partial heart still returns and clings to you with increased attachment.

Alexander Hamilton to Elizabeth Schuyler, 5 October 1780

But partiality is not a direct synonym for love - the nuance comes from the fact that it is an antonym of impartiality. 

An enlightened 18th century gentleman walked a fine line to balance rationality - which elevated reason, intellect and justice (especially in the spheres of public life, such as politics and business) - with sentimentality - which expected him to display profound emotion at appropriate (usually private) moments, as a testament to his morality.

Expressing love was certainly a virtuous thing - a man could profess love for his family, spouse, country, comrades, beliefs (religious or otherwise), and so on - but when it was labelled partiality, that love was made less gentlemanly, less virtuous and noble. Partiality masked flaws, reducing the ability to make objective choices, and hinted at a weakness of character in a gentleman who was supposed to be fair, just and disinterested in his dealings. Therefore, a man who called himself partial was admitting that he allowed his feelings to affect his integrity, and was showing preference one person over others in a way that was possibly unfair or unwarranted - an intimate personal favouritism.

We see it used in this form in works spanning the century. In Alexander Pope’s 1717 poem, Eloisa to Abelard, Eloisa begs for her “partial eyes” to be turned away from her lover, Abelard, and back to pure religious love.

Yet then, to those dread altars as I drew, Not on the Cross my eyes were fix'd, but you: Not grace, or zeal, love only was my call, And if I lose thy love, I lose my all. […] Ah no! instruct me other joys to prize, With other beauties charm my partial eyes, Full in my view set all the bright abode, And make my soul quit Abelard for God.

In Charlotte Smith’s Emmeline (1778), partiality is contrasted with virtuous affection:

But for your charming friend my heart long retained its partiality; nor would it ever have felt for her that pure and disinterested friendship which is now in regard to her its only sentiment, had not the object of my present regret and anguish been thrown in my way.

In Evelina (1778), Fanny Burney shows the peril of partiality in masking flaws.

Yet perhaps I have rather reason to rejoice than to grieve, since this affair has shown me his real disposition, and removed that partiality which, covering his every imperfection, left only his virtues and good qualities exposed to view. [...] You flattered yourself that your partiality was the effect of esteem, founded upon a general love of merit, and a principle of justice; and your heart, which fell the sacrifice of your error, was totally gone ere you expected it was in danger.

We see this subtlety of meaning in Hamilton’s April 1779 letter to Laurens:

But as you have done it and as we are generally indulgent to those we love, I shall not scruple to pardon the fraud you have committed, on condition that for my sake, if not for your own, you will always continue to merit the partiality, which you have so artfully instilled into me.

In using feigned legalese (“pardon the fraud you have committed”), Hamilton puts himself in the role of a judge, but admits that he is not an impartial one - he is acting self-awarely according to his personal bias, and the love he expresses is tinged by it. Hamilton uses partiality again in his 8 January 1780 letter, after Laurens tries to promote Hamilton as a better candidate for the diplomatic mission to the court at Versailles:

Believe me my Dr Laurens I am not insensible of the first mark of your affection in recommending me to your friends for a certain commission. However your partiality may have led you to overrate my qualifications that very partiality must endear you to me.

In other words - your affection means that you’re not being objective about me, and that’s adorable. He’s teasing, acknowledging both his own shortcomings and Laurens’ inability or unwillingness to see them. Hamilton puts it in even plainer terms in his 30 June 1780 letter, in which he discusses the possibility of Laurens being paroled early. He contrasts both the “love” the military family feels for Laurens and the fair and objective rules of war with his own subjective affection:

I have talked to the General about your exchange; but the rigid rules of impartiality oppose our wishes. I am the only one in the family who think you can be exchanged with any propriety, on the score of your relation to the Commander in Chief. We all love you sincerely; but I have more of the infirmities of human nature, than the others, and suspect my self of being byassed by my partiality for you.

In sum, Hamilton’s written correspondence expresses love for Laurens in a variety of ways beyond the obvious - the word ‘love’ itself is indeed less telling than the other phrases he uses. In the context of the period, calling both himself and Laurens partial towards each other suggests that their affection was not just the pure and rational comradeship of fellow-soldiers, but a more personal, intimate and subjective sentiment.

[hackerqueen]

Summer Love

Chapter 1: California

author's note: hi! it will be a short, light and pleasant story about two teenagers in love. hope you like it <3

I will never forget the moment when I first met him.

June 25, 2014

I was not well disposed to this vacation.

It was my first time to fly alone to the United States, specifically California. My mother decided that I could use two months of respite away from home. I know she also wanted to get some rest on her own. The last period was not the lightest for us.

I didn't know California very well. I had only been there once as a small child to visit my aunt. It was there that I was to spend this vacation. On the California beaches in the company of my older cousin - Jane.

But my earlier indecision and uncertainty passed as the plane with me on board soared into the clouds. With bated breath, I watched the receding land through the window and welcomed the sky. I was the type of dreamer rocking in the clouds.

My attention was caught by a couple sitting in front of me. The girl was apparently overcome by panic, causing her to cling to the man's arm. She probably had a fear of heights. The boy calmed her down, drew her to his chest and soothingly played with her hair.

Ugh, love.

It was a real nightmare. Watching all the couples in love while I never held hands with the other person. Not in a romantic way, anyway. In truth, I kept telling myself that I was only 16 and my whole life was ahead of me, but.... Almost every friend of mine was in a relationship or had already ended one. Why didn't anyone pay attention to me? Was I too ugly, insufficient, stupid? After all, guys like stupid girls. Then they can feel smarter, right?

The truth was that I wanted love. Passion. Adventure. Excitement. I wanted to lose myself in someone as much as possible, to feel the butterflies in my stomach even if it had to end in a broken heart and weeping nights. I wanted to feel loved. Wanted.

However, when I left the plane and felt the Californian wind in my hair a wide smile dawned on my face. I couldn't just think about my failures. It was vacation time, and I was going to make the most of it.

To get to my aunt's house, I had to take another hour by bus. I can't count the number of times I cursed Google Maps for almost not finding the bus stop and consequently almost missing the bus. When I ran onto the bus loaded with people I was sweaty and probably red in the face. All the seats were occupied except one, next to a black-haired boy who was leaning his head against the window. He had headphones in his ears due to which he didn't hear my question if I could sit down. I took that as a 'yes.'

He was wearing a black T-shirt and blue loose jeans. When I took a seat next to him he raised his head and looked in my direction. His eyes were like ice: cold and relentless. Despite this, I sent him a slight smile, but the expression on his face did not change one bit. He was looking into the window again, watching the sights beyond.

Asshole.

To my surprise, he got off at the same stop as me. I didn't have time to register anything when I felt strong arms pull me toward them and suffocate me with their embrace.

–MC! It's been so long since we've seen each other. – Jane said loudly, excitedly – How you have grown!

From behind my cousin's back I saw a black-haired boy walking straight ahead. Only now I could look how tall he was.

– Why are you silent? – Jane moved away from me and looked in the direction I was looking. – Ooh, I already know. My little cousin is growing up. – she said with a mean smile to which I answered her with a firm punch on the shoulder

– Yeah, I missed you too Jane.

* * *

In the evening of that day, at my aunt's request, I went to the store to buy ice cream while she and Jane were preparing dinner. The navigation, by the way, completely sucked. Or it was me with crappy field orientation.

No, it was definitely the navigation's fault.

After hitting several dead ends, I finally arrived at the store. I looked with undisguised fascination at all the sweets and snacks familiar from American movies that I had dreamed so much about as a child. The place seemed to be a paradise for preschoolers. And well, for me too.

After a good ten minutes or so, I reached the freezers, which contained dozens of different ice creams. At the moment when I wanted to open one of them someone preceded me, and I completely not hearing someone standing next to me, almost jumped up in fear. I immediately took my hand away and raised my gaze encountering the blue irises of the bus boy.

The boy raised an eyebrow, then selected a chocolate ice cream and was already about to pass me by when some kind of frenzied energy took over my body.

– You again. – I spoke up, and my tone was friendly

The boy turned around and sent me a confused gaze.

– Do I know you? – He asked sounding completely uninterested

– You're so nice. – I snorted, however, I didn't lose the slight smile from my face – I'm MC. You already know me. And hey are you angry or something for sitting down with you on the bus?

– Angry? Why? – he furrowed his eyebrows

– Your face says more than your mouth.

– This is my every-day face. – he replied and tried to walk away, but I followed him

Christ, why didn't I give that asshole a break?

– Grumpy then.

– I'm not grumpy. Not everyone can smile all the time. Except you.

– I don't smile all the time! – I stated indignantly to which he finally sent me a doubtful look

– You smiled at the jellybeans and then at the ice cream.

– So you already saw me when I entered the store? – my smile widened which only proved his thesis. He rolled his eyes, but I could have sworn that a soft blush appeared on his cheeks. – You didn't tell me what your name is.

– Mother didn't tell you that you shouldn't introduce yourself to strangers?

– Oh come on. Look at me, and look at you. – I said in a sour tone, since he was probably able to do a lot more harm to me than I to him – Okay, you figured me out. My van is behind the store where there are no cameras.

– It's obvious you're not from here. – he sighed – Behind there are cameras.

I waved my hand at that, and my attention was caught by the dessert he chose.

– So you are team chocolate? – I asked subconsciously slapping myself in the face.

If he wasn't he wouldn't have taken such ice cream, idiot.

– Where did you get such an idea, Sherlock? – he replied, and his question rubbed with irony

I smiled inwardly. The mysterious stranger, however, possessed a sense of humor.

I ignored the phrase that came to my lips that I prefer vanilla ice cream, and opposites supposedly attract. And so I made a fool of myself enough times.

– Why do you need so many energy drinks? You have leaks and a war is coming, so are you stocking up? – I asked, pointing my finger at the five drinks he had in his basket

– Sometimes they come in handy when you don't want to fall asleep, you know? – he replied, and when he saw that I had already opened my mouth to question him he added – Do you know just how annoying you are?

– Not annoying enough to have you ignore me, apparently. – I replied to which he rolled his eyes again – Okay, I know how to make you feel better. I'll tell you a joke I heard on the bus while you were listening to music.

He started to protest that he didn't need a humor upgrade at all, but the joke was really funny.

– What do you call a dog that can do magic?

– Well what? - he sighed and I clenched my lips tightly to keep from laughing

– A labra-cadabrador.

I started giggling which made an old lady passing by look at me strangely. I probably looked like a mentally ill person in front of the boy who stared at me as if I were lunatic. This joke was so stupid that it was laughable. I looked at the black-haired boy with a doubtful look to see if he really understood it.

– Not a dog fan?

– Not a bad jokes fan. – he replied and this time I rolled my eyes

– Well I have another one. What did the sushi say to the bee?

– Enlighten me. – he replied with resignation in his voice

– Wasabi? – I made a strange gesture with my hands that I saw somewhere on the Internet along with this joke

The boy looked at me for a moment, then quickly turned his head away. However, he did not manage to hide from me the small smile that appeared on his face.

– You smiled back! Don't even try to deny it. – he turned to me again, and this time a wry smile was painted on his face. I raised an eyebrow. – So you're a sushi fan?

– You got me. – He replied, then stood in the checkout line. Damn, I didn't realize we had gone through the whole store. – And you seem to have forgotten something.

I looked at him with incomprehension, and when he happily took out his chocolate ice cream from the cart I became dumbfounded. Damn, I forgot what I came here for.

– Oh right, ice cream.

I corrected the chain I was wearing and started walking away from the cash register walking backwards causing me to almost bump into an older man. I patted myself on the forehead and turned around to walk like a normal, sane person. Then I heard his voice.

– Jake. That's my name. – he said. A smile uncontrollably affected my face, and I bit my lip almost clapping and jumping up. I felt so light and happy, because already on my first day here I met someone new and... interesting? Yes, I think that's the right term.

I didn't expect that, no-longer-a-stranger-Jake would be waiting for me outside the store and would walk me all the way to the house.

And I definitely didn't expect that this was just the beginning of our summer.

[terrainofheartfelt]

20 Questions Game for fic writers

tagged by @ernestonlysayslovelythings -- thank you friend!!!!

1. How many works do you have on ao3? 90 (lol what the fuck)

2. What’s your total ao3 word count? 840,737 hahahhahahhahahahahah what THEE fuck

3. What fandoms do you write for? Gossip Girl fairly exclusively, but I have been coaxed to write some Nancy Drew & some The Shadowhunter Chronicles drabbles, and I am currently in a will-she-won't-she with firstprince and RWRB

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? - somewhere you feel free  - (the more you say) the less I know - gladly beyond any experience - mercurial high (a goddamn blaze in the dark) - as long as there are stars above you 

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I try to! if somebody takes the time to tell me they liked the thing i made, I want to say thank you! I often fall months behind, but theoretically, every comment gets a response.

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? oh it's probably my Last Five Years derena au, twin flame bruise. i'm usually a fluffy ending kind of writer, but ofc my source material demanded something different, and it was weirdly satisfying in a way! 

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I think most of my fluffy happy endings end on the same level....but if I had to pick just ONE, then I'll go with my The Holiday AU, a snowfall kind of love, just for that NYE cozy closing scene. just thinking about it is making me smile

8. Do you get hate on fics? it's only happened a few times, most people are total sweethearts, and since i've locked my fics the hate has disappeared, people aren't nasty when they have to sign their username to it. I remember one commenter on my p&p au who complained about how I was structuring the story but like....it's jane austen's pacing, I was just plugging in my blorbos, like. girl.

another one that made me and the discord laugh a lot was some hate I got on a dan/nate fic that was offended that I wrote dan as a bottom, which....have you seen that boy?

and there was hate because i dared make any characters queer at all. none of the van der humphreys are straight, sorry not sorry. they all bewildered me at the time, but in hindsight they're all just hilarious.

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind? the smutty kind? the horny kind? I tend to gravitate towards romantic smut, like, they're so in love they've gotta fuck nasty about it, but that's not always the case. I guess the classification I could give to all the smut in my collection is that I always try to work in Character Study into my porn. like, yes, they would be into that, and here's my persuasive essay as to why. like dan humphrey is a Bottom.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve ever written? no, not into crossovers, just not my cup of tea. I like doing aus with preexisting stories (see: p&p, l5y, the holiday, little women), but I don't like mixing characters from different worlds. just doesn't appeal.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? oh yikes i hope not. i don't think anyone cares enough for my smutty writings on a show that's been off the air for a decade to steal it.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? it is an honor I dream not of!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? i have not. I have many many wonderful writer friends that i've met through this hobby, but my life is so hectic that I feel like I can't really guarantee my time and attention to write with someone else, and I don't want to let my brilliant beautiful writing friends down by making promises that I cannot fulfill. maybe when i marry rich and retire.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship? going off the data, I'd say it's Dair.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? ummmmmm at this juncture....any of my unfinished ones.......just know that if desire and will was enough....they would all be finished.

16. What are your writing strengths? my strength is really filling out a universe. i like digging in and making those decisions of why things are the way that they are, why would this character choose this path, or that path. if i'm making an au from scratch, it's building the world, or if i'm doing an au of a preexisting recipe, it's connecting the dots and making the gg world fit into the auverse

17. What are your writing weaknesses? other than actually writing? loooooool no but i think right now i get stuck in the "it has to come out perfect" and that slows me down a lot. and that leads to editing as i go and that slows me down even more and......blah. also descriptions. descriptions get me. dialogue is fine, and the choreography of action that plays out in my head makes sense, but putting it into prose? it's embarrassing! maybe i just need to get back to slapping up words, leaving them alone, and coming back to revise later.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? um scared? my singer education gave me a little bit of working knowledge of romance languages, but my grammar is trash. and poetic singing language is different from how people speak. so i avoid it as a whole because i'm scared of getting it wrong and looking foolish, or worse, offending someone. a little French and Italian will sneak in from time to time, if it works for a character, and lucky for dair it does, but i cling to word reference dot com whenever I do.

19. First fandom you ever wrote for? in middle school when we had free writing in english class, i wrote twilight fanfiction that i am SO glad has been lost to time. rip to little me on the day i realized mrs maddox read everything in that notebook for a GRADE (it was all very chaste and sfw, i was just mortified on principle)

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written? it changes with the tides!!!! and with recency bias! for the past week it's been the miloverse - I know a place where your heart can be safe - maybe because I wrote it in the fall, but it does feel so cozy and autumnal.

tagging: @strideofpride, @blairwaldcrf, @windowsandfeelings, @scabopolis, @mysteriesofloves if you are so inclined to do it!!!! <333

[diorgirl444]

Hi hi!! I was wondering if you'd be so kind as to give me a match up for Boy Meets World!!

(as promised as soon as I finish the show I'll make sure to send you a bmw match up too!)

I'm syd, ofc, I use he/she pronouns (gender fluid) , I'm about 5'5, I dress between grundge + and skater tbh— i have brown hair, VERY thick it's insane, with two blonde stripes at the front of my hair. I have blue green eyes, they switch what color they are randomly. That's about it!!

Personality wise, I'm very shy at first (except on the internet tho interacting makes me nervous!!) I have very extreme emotional changes, like something minor will happen and I won't get out of bed for awhile 😭

In INFP and creative type, as I told you :))

I'm a huge hopeless romantic, I love the idea of being in love but never have been!! I'm really bad at meeting new people, so that's why I've never been with anyone. I have 1 friend in real life and that's it honestly

I have a lot of opinions but I'm very open minded, as long as opinions are harmful to anyone. I'm VERY into shows I like, I mean they're my whole personality until I'm no long interested in it

I'm a huge horror fan, specifically old cheesey horror movies!! And I've always been really interested in having a close group of like 5 friends like they do in the movies. And I love collecting anything horror

My cat is the absolute loml so he always comes first as well,, I'm not a huge cat person but I'm a huge my cat person

I love love love music, and art

I love to draw, paint, bleach clothes, all sorts of things like that. But I don't really go out and tell everyone because its not that important to my personality (though I draw in front of anyone who stays around long enough)

I honestly just really love being able to talk to someone about me and them without them getting bored of me + i like to live in the moment the future TERRIFIES me so I love to do spontaneous things all the time

Thank you so so much!

your perfect matchup is 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐞 💌

𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐚 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 <𝟑

𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝟐 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 <𝟑

you two are meant to be i swear.

now i get the sense that you would of had a crush on her for a long time but you’re way too shy to do anything about it so just admire her from afar.

don’t worry thought cause mr feeny is your secret wingman. 

well more accurately it irritates him that you never pay attention in his class because you’re so distracted so he decides if you finally get with her you’ll pay attention in his class.

so he partners the pair of you together on a project.

it’s something slightly romantic like researching jane austen or such.

when the pair of you finally spoke to each other it was clear the two of you were perfect for each other.

she asked you out and you’ve been together ever since (plus believe me you two bossed that mr feeny assignment i’m so proud of you!!!) <3

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 <𝟑

as a couple everyone is so happy for you two. 

like the pair of you just look so much happier than you used to now you’re together and it’s so clear to everyone that you are together. 

like i bet you have matching bracelets or you’re always talking about each other.

angela loves your cat almost as much as she loves you.

you two love to snuggle on the sofa watching horror movies with your cat laying on you both.

she knows you’re kinda shy so you two have like a signal when things are becoming too much.

plus she would literally die if you drew her, she’d go and show everyone like look what my partner did!!!!

she struggles with accepting emotions so you can encourage her that emotions are important.

i bet you two always call each other at like midnight like “wanna go get ice cream?” (and then you kiss and your lips taste like the ice cream)

she’ll always do crafts with you as well omg!!!

like both of you are always having watercolour days or tie dying days!!!

everyone can’t believe how healthy your relationship is, like you have what everyone wants. 

in fact you have what i want, but i’m so happy for you too <333

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐚𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 <𝟑

hugs and kisses, flo <333

[leschanceux]

bio & headcanons for arthur fox

these are my headcanons for arthur from rw.rb, and as such, some of these are verse-specific for closed verses with partners.

biography.

arthur was born into a large, close-knit working-class family in sheffield, england, on april 19th, 1960. his family at home consisted of his mother ( barbara ), his father ( edward ), his older sisters ( jane and lucy ), and his younger brother ( charles ), and his extended family included his mother's parents and siblings and their families, his father's mother and siblings and their families, plus many of his parents' friends and neighbours who were considered close enough to be family.

growing up, arthur was always the envy of whatever group of kids he'd integrated himself with; friendly, handsome and charismatic, he caught the attention of girls and boys alike, though he never let his popularity go to his head. his home life was different from most of his peers too --- his parents were always kind and supportive of their children and offered sound advice for making big decisions. their home was a refuge for their children's friends when they needed a place to sleep for whatever reason, and their kitchen was always warm and welcoming and usually had at least one kind of cake stashed away somewhere to offer guests.

as well as having an excellent personality, arthur was also apparently quite gifted academically; an avid reader already, he excelled at english in particular, and was the first person in his family to attend university. there, he cemented his love for shakespeare, and graduated with a first, a job offer of an english teacher at his old comprehensive school, and a place in the local theatre group after three years of study.

arthur's theatre career was long and successful; he drew a fair amount of attention with the local group he'd joined right after university, with whom he played at weekends and occasionally on the weekends, and eventually ( after a few years, when he was in his mid-twenties ) was persuaded to audition for the royal shakespeare company ( rsc ). being accepted into the company was the proudest moment of arthur's life so far - he left his teaching job and settled into acting, loving each and every second of rehearsals and being on stage, loving meeting new people and performing the plays he'd loved to read at school while his peers struggled through. as an rsc actor, arthur was paid well - more than his teaching job had offered - and so he began to carefully save money for his future.

it was after a performance of henry v that arthur met his future wife ( and the heir to the british throne ), princess catherine mountchristen-windsor --- not that he knew it at the time. there had been murmurs amongst the cast and crew that the princess was in the audience ( or, at least, that someone who looked very like the princess was sitting mid-theatre ). arthur, very much not a monarchist ( growing up in a family of people who spent their whole lives working hard for each and every penny saved tends to do that ), was unbothered by the news - he'd put his all into his performance whether he was watched by royalty or not. after the show, catherine appeared outside his dressing room, and as soon as she began to speak, arthur fell in love.

the two of them managed to date in secret for a while, catherine always finding some way to evade her security or ask arthur to meet her after an event. it took almost a year for the two of them to declare their relationship because of the pressure on catherine, as the heir to the throne, to find someone to marry and have her own heirs with --- and even then, arthur's parents were the first people they told ( honestly, arthur had his doubts as to how the news would go down withhis parents, but they were just as kind and welcoming and genuine with catherine as they had been with any of arthur's past girlfriends ).

telling catherine's parents ( queen mary and king james ) was not as pleasant as telling arthur's parents; from the moment arthur entered buckingham palace, his hand in catherine's, he felt watched in a way that made his skin crawl ( totally different to how he felt when watched onstage ). it was only after multiple threats from catherine to run away and tell various people various things that the king finally convinced his wife to just let catherine get on with marrying arthur --- but neither the queen nor the king would ever be happy with their union, and would make that knowledge known very often ( they even extended the same scorn to arthur and catherine's children ).

headcanons - family life.

as a father, arthur was always very hands-on, despite the "fashion" for royal parents to hand their children off to a nanny while they travelled. having married into the family, however, arthur preferred to keep his children close, where he could support them if any issues or insecurities arose during events and obligatory appearances.

he tried to instill in his children that the three of them were supposed to be the best of friends, a solid support network they could all rely on and who would empathise with the struggles of living their lives in the public eye when the rest of the world could never hope to understand. despite the frequent bickering between the three, this message seemed to sink in well enough until his death.

a very active man, arthur enjoys outdoor pursuits with his children, such as hiking and sailing, as well as football, rugby and tennis.

he makes the effort to have one-on-one time with each of his children during the week, though this is reduced ( not through choice ) to weekends during term time when they're away at school.

he is his family's fiercest protector; he won't let anybody say anything negative about them in his hearing, and is always quick with the offer of a cup of tea and a cuddle if his children or his wife seem distressed or upset about something someone's said or done around them.

headcanons - clothes.

at home, arthur is comfiest in a knitted jumper and some old, worn slacks.

his mother started a tradition of knitting him and his siblings a jumper or a cardigan for christmas each year, and he has quite the collection of them in his later adult years ( most of which are inherited by his sons upon his death ).

for formal events with the rsc or charity events with his wife, he's quite comfortable in a three-piece suit and tie, or suit and bowtie --- however, for royal formal events when the queen is present, a formal suit feels like a prison. there's no better feeling after an evening of rubbing shoulders with mary's guests than getting home and taking the suit off to replace it with his pajamas and one of his mum's jumpers.

headcanons - food & cooking.

arthur loves to cook. he has a collection of recipe books from all over the world, and he likes to pick one at random to find a recipe for dinner. in part, he does this to encourage his children to be unafraid to try new foods.

he's so not a picky eater, but between "traditional" british dishes and the chance to eat something from somewhere else, he'd much rather eat something from outside the country.

his favourite food by far is chicken gyros ( it reminds him of his honeymoon ), and his favourite sweet is a fruit pavlova.

he will always, always buy a portion of strawberries and cream when in attendance at wimbledon.

headcanons - books.

arthur is an avid reader. he's always had stacks and stacks of books stashed around wherever he's living ( as a child, this was on the bookshelf his grandfather made for his bedroom, but also more under his bed because the shelf wouldn't fit them all, and as an adult, he still keeps his favourite under his bed for quicker access ).

he's regularly involved in reading programs at libraries, or fundraising for libraries and other ventures that will encourage children to read.

he's read for children's television ( as per @fatedtruths' headcanon about arthur reading for cbeebies' bedtime stories program ) as well as for the radio, and later, for audiobooks for sites like spotify and amazon.

for his children's fifth birthdays, he gifted them their own library cards so that they could start borrowing the books they wanted to read on their own accounts.

he always, always, has a battered, heavily annotated shakespeare paperback about his person whilst away from the cottage, and can ( and will ) quote passages from memory. his favourite play has always been henry v.

headcanons - movies.

arthur played james bond in the late 80s ( canon information ), which really cataputed him into international fame. a relatively unknown actor on the screen ( he'd had a couple of television credits before auditioning for bond ), his casting drew a lot of criticism until his first bond movie was viewed on the big screen --- and then most of his critics were singing his praises. he was bond from 1986 - 1994 - 2004 ( effectively replacing the timothy dalton and pierce brosnan eras, sorry ), appearing in six movies, two tv spin-off series and a long-running radio program.

he's made several rsc movies which are still show in classrooms to allow students to experience the plays rather than just reading the text ( his favourite to make was hamlet ).

verse info - arthur lives au

generally follows rwrb canon in that arthur had cancer, but he recovered instead of dying.

he might attend the rio olympics with henry to support team gb ( how this affects henry and alex's first meeting and subsequent relationship is up to the thread partner ).

very supportive of his kids and his wife, absolutely will not allow his mother-in-law to bully them.

verse info - catherine dies au

generally follows rwrb canon, but catherine is the parent who dies.

arthur grieves ( of course ), but he's very present for his kids instead of shutting himself away.

he takes henry to france for four weeks after catherine's funeral to take him out of the public eye.

he throws himself into charity projects and returns to the theatre despite his mother-in-law's evident disgust at the decision --- but it keeps him busy, and if he's busy, he's not sad.

verse info - daemons / hdm au ( currently closed with @fatedtruths )

follows general rwrb canon ( with the arthur lives divergence depending on the thread partner ), but arthur has a fox daemon called lydia.

verse info - shadowhunters au ( currently in development )

arthur was born a mundane with the sight and ascended in his late teens in order to marry catherine, who was the oldest daughter of the consul of the clave. the fox-mountchristen-windsor family live in the london institute.

[robinegreenwood]

I - 𝚊 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 [oc x sirius black]

｡･::･ﾟ★,｡･::･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･::･ﾟ★,｡･::･ﾟ☆

** two weeks later **

"One more time," a kind voice urged Morana, "When were you born?"

"March 17, 1960,"

"Where did you previously attend school?"

"Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Morana replied diligently.

"Why are you transferring?"

"My parents felt that my education would be better rewarded at Hogwarts," Morana spoke one lie after another.

"Very good," he smiled at her fondly, "What are your parents' names?"

"Jane and Alexander Fleetwood," Morana winced, twisting strands of her now brown toned hair between her fingers.

"And what would your name be?"

Morana drew in a breath before confidently she stated, "Eden Fleetwood,".

The man's eyes twinkled as he looked down at the young woman full of pride at how far she'd come in such a short period of time. He took a step forward and lightly embraced her, Eden's body immediately stiffened but she returned the kind hug.

She parted from him, full of gratitude, "Thank you for everything Dumbledore."

The bearded man smiled down at her, the fatherly love in his eyes speaking louder than words ever could.

"The ceremony will begin soon, are you ready?" Dumbledore asked.

Turning to gaze in Dumbledore's crystal mirror Eden didn't recognize herself. Her dark raven hair had been greatly lightened and her once deep blue eyes now appeared a soft brown, highlighted by bright specs of green. Her gaze dropped from her eyes to her left wrist, gently she lifted up the thick material of the dark coat that she wore. There it was, there it would forever be, a dark shadow etched onto her skin, marking her as something she did not want to be. Grimly, she pulled the sleeve of the coat back down, once again covering that which must remain hidden.

Drawing in a deep breath Eden finally spoke, "Yes, yes I'm ready."

Smiling softly, Dumbledore led her out of his office.

Walking into the Great Hall of Hogwarts was a truly magical experience. Upon entering through the grand doors one's eyes were drawn to a spacious room supported by stone walls. The tall ceiling was bewitched to show the twinkling stars and majestic blues of the night sky. Alit by the fire of floating candles, the vast space was filled by four long tables, stretching almost the full length of the room. At one end sat a table with seats meant for the school staff. Glorious and gold, the middle seat would be occupied by the Headmaster of the school, in this case Albus Dumbldore. Basking in its few short moments left of silence, the Great Hall sat prepared for the arrival of the many students of Hogwarts. Empty plates and goblets lined the wooden tables, attentive and ready for the feast that was soon to come.

"Prefect James Potter," Sirius Black shook his head, "I still can't believe it,"

"I think it rolls off the tongue rather nicely," James lightly elbowed his best friend.

"As long as your precious Lily Flower thinks so," Sirius grinned, slipping his arm around the red head's waist as they walked into the Great Hall.

Lily merely rolled her eyes as she was reminded of one of the endearments James had called her the previous year.

A moment of silence was shared among the group as they entered the grand room.

"Man," James marvelled, "This never gets old,"

The others nodded their heads in agreement as they made their way towards the Gryffindor table.

"Remus! Camilla!" Lily shouted, running to meet them.

Lily greeted the two with hugs while Sirius and James clapped Remus on the back.

"Where's Pettigrew at?" James asked indirectly, looking around.

Remus shrugged, "Only got one letter from him this summer and he said he was coming."

The topic was soon dropped and the group began chattering about their summer breaks.

The sound of Dumbledore's interrupting voice echoing throughout the Great Hall quieted the students and, in turn, they each found a seat. Turning to face the front of the room they all waited for Dumbledore to perform his yearly speech of welcome.

"Welcome everyone, to the start of a new term here at Hogwarts," Dumbledore addressed the student body, "The first years are to arrive momentarily and then I will say a few words regarding general housekeeping."

The loud sound of first years 'oohing' and 'ahhing' as they set foot into the Great Hall was unmistakably recognizable. Smiling to one another, the group of seventh years shared a moment of nostalgia as they watched the eleven year-olds march up the middle aisle.

"Hold up," James propped himself up to get a better view, "Either that first year has taken some serious steroids, or there's been some kind of mix up."

"They're most likely a transfer student" Lily deduced, gazing at the figure towering above the younger students.

"Ooo transfer student, a male or a female?" Sirius grinned, turning around to look for himself.

"Oh shove off Black," Camilla grinned while shaking her head.

Sirius cast a grin back to Camilla before returning his gaze to the stranger making their way to the front of the room. Dressed in a black pleated skirt and simple white button up, the stranger had a taste for timeless classics. A dark robe hung off her shoulders, swaying behind her as she elegantly strode behind the younger students. With cocoa coloured hair cut off at her shoulders, the woman's hazel eyes did not stray from the path in front of her.

"She's pretty," Camilla offered.

"Ya," Remus agreed.

Sirius Black merely nodded, his eyes locked on the woman as she stopped with the rest of the group in front of the professors table.

"Eyes forward, head up," Eden thought repeatedly.

Out of the many terrible things her parents had taught her, Eden was grateful that they had drilled those four words into her head. She had been refusing to let the nervousness she was feeling show on her face, but as she reached the front of the room she worried that her mask of calmness would disappear. Dumbledore had carefully explained the sorting ceremony to her earlier. It had been a topic that had kept her awake late at night, laying in bed as her anxiety analysed the many possible outcomes of the sorting hats' decision.

Eden's thoughts were interrupted by the warm voice of a professor, "Ahem, would all the first years please listen up,".

The heads of everyone around her went up, and Eden concluded that she was also being spoken to. In front of her was the kind face of a middle aged woman, she dawned a green cloak and wore a black witch hat. In one hand she held a lengthy white scroll and in the other a worn brown hat.

"When I call your name," spoke the professor, "You will come forth, I shall place the sorting hat on your head, and you will be sorted into your houses."

Whispering frantically and shifting their feet, it was obvious that the younger children around her were feeling as nervous as she was. Taking some comfort in that thought, Eden allowed herself to lose a bit of composure, taking noticeably deep breaths to try and calm her nerves.

One by one the first years around her were called up, and the sorting hat made quick work of deciding which house would best suit them. There were four choices to choose from: Hufflepuff, house of the patient, fair and hardworking, Ravenclaw, house of the intelligent, wise and witty, Gryffindor, house of the courageous, brave and moral, and finally Slytherin, house of the ambitious, cunning and resourceful. Eden hoped beyond hope that she would not be placed in the house of Slytherin. Aware of the reputation of its inhabitants, Eden felt that being a Slytherin would label her as a cruel individual and that was something she wanted left in her past. For too long she had lived in the dark shadow of her parents, she just wanted the chance to choose the right thing without being punished for it.

"Eden Fleetwood," the professor's voice called out.

Eden patiently kept still as she looked around to see who was going to go up.

"Where is Miss Eden Fleetwood?" the professor raised a quizzical brow as she peered around.

Suddenly it dawned on Eden, that was indeed her name, she was Eden Fleetwood.

"Sorry," she quickly apologised as she walked over to the professor, "I wasn't paying attention."

The professor merely waved her hand in dismissal and motioned for Eden to sit down on the stool, gently placing the hat atop of Eden's head.

Pulse racing, Eden tried her best to keep her features calm, but facing the entire student body was daunting, especially since the sorting hat was simultaneously deciding her future.

"Well," a voice inside her head spoke, "This is quite interesting,"

Suddenly terrified, Eden replied to the voice, "Are you inside my head?"

"Why yes, I can see everything in here. You have an eventful past don't you, Morana Nyx."

"No no no no, please," Dread filled Eden's body, "You can't say anything."

Whilst Eden sat atop the stool, the rest of the student body sat waiting, curiously as they waited for the sorting hat's decision.

"Does it usually take this long?" James asked, his gaze locked on Eden.

"No," Lily replied, deep in thought.

"She almost looks scared," Remus acknowledged, "But then I would be too."

"I won't say a word, I wouldn't have the chance to anyways." the Sorting Hat reassured her.

Eden let out a sigh of relief.

"I would be mad not to recommend you to Slytherin, as you have a remarkable talent for things of a rather unsettling nature, not to add the significance of your bloodline." The hat professed. "But I do note your strong feelings against that suggestion. You certainly are interesting,"

"Anything but Slytherin," Eden stated.

"Very well," the hat agreed, "It will have to be…"

"Gryffindor!" the hat shouted out.

The sound of cheering filled the Great Hall, and Eden blinked her eyes open to see the Gryffindors standing up, beaming at her, welcoming her to their family.

1523 Words.

[fckedupnerd]

[deady-nightshade]

M!Drider (Bromley) x F!Reader. Part 2 🍋

Description: After comforting a tearful child, you unknowingly seal your fate with the reclusive Lord Bromley, a mourning widower and single father. He offers you a life filled with comfort, and the knowledge that your family will be cared for, one the contingency of marrying him and becoming his daughter’s stepmother. He promises to cherish you, but warns you that his heart is too damaged to be given to another. What will happen between you two once vows are said? What will happen when his heart begins to heal? And why does your heat skip a beat when you lock eyes with your husband?

Series Content: NSFW, driders/arachnids, loveless marriage, loss of virginity (tearing of hymen and slight bleeding), single father, mourning family, deceased wife, angst, learning to love again, step-mother, step-daughter, second wife, regency/Jane Austen era, old-fashioned terms, social classes/hierarchy, talk of children/family planning, and lots of domestic fluff. Not proofread.

Word Count: 4,126

Part 1 🍉

One week had passed, and you now found yourself in the parlor of Bromley’s country estate. A few of his maids were fawning over you, one of them began buttoning your gown close. You stood in front of a large mirror, and you couldn’t help but marvel at your reflection. The dress you wore was one of your designs, and the ivory silk felt soft against your skin. Pearls glistened on the tulle layer that they had been anchored to, and delicate silver boning was scattered throughout, highlighting the soft curves of your body. 

The door to the parlor opened, and Claude, the goblin that served your soon to be husband, entered, with a small package in hand. Like the maids, he was dressed up for the event and he stopped when he reached the nymph that had been assigned to you, her name was Betty and she was in her late fifties. Her golden bun sat high on her head, and she gave the goblin a kind smile when he reached her. 

“Lord Bromley has a wedding gift you, my lady.” 

He held out the package, and you carefully took it. It was wrapped in purple paper and it was the size of novel. You could feel everyone’s eyes on you, and you could. hear the faint whispering of the maids; they were placing bets on what the gift was, putting their chores on the line. 

With careful fingers, you removed the wrappings and inspected the velveteen box in your hands. You opened it and gasped when you saw content inside;  pearl earrings mounted on gold, and a delicate golden chain with a large, polished pearl pendent. The tips of your fingers traced the gentle contours of the gem. It was cool to the touch, and you could feel the grooves that proved the gem’s authenticity. 

The younger maids ran towards your side and inspected the gift with skill you had not expected. They began appraising the gem and made note of the gold’s karat. Claude was quick to chastise them, telling them that their behavior was improper, prompting them to disperse in a gaggle of giggles. 

When Claude left, Betty removed the necklace from the box and carefully placed it around your neck. The pearl rested gently over the exposed tops of your breast, and you slipped the earrings in. Your hair had been carefully styled, and the dainty jewelry drew one’s attention to your flushed cheeks. 

The clock chimed and Betty made her way towards the door. When she opened it, Pearl, your dearest friend, was already there, waiting for you. Tears threatened to spill from her glimmering eyes, and she held out your bouquet which consisted of lily of the valley, bound with white ribbon.

She continued to talk to you, but your anxiety prevented you from hearing her. You were too nervous. In a matter of minutes, you would be married, become a lady of a house, and more importantly, you were about to become a mother to a small child. 

Your eldest brother met you at the entryway to the ballroom, and he noticed your unfocused eyes. He was born nine months after you, and he knew you better than your other siblings. He knew why you were marrying Lord Bromley, and he felt conflicted; he wanted you to marry for love, but he knew that if you didn’t go through with this union, your family would be living on the streets in a matter of months. 

Without saying anything, he looped his arm through yours and kissed your temple. He knew that no words would be able to calm the tempest in your mind, but he knew he had to do something to bring you back to earth. When your eyes became refocused, he tapped the door, signaling that you were ready. 

You looked at the small party and met your parents’ teary eyes. They were flanked on either side by your siblings, and they looked so proud of you. Pearl went first and she nodded to Lord Bromley when she reached the end of the aisle. 

Everything happened in a blur, and before you knew it, you were standing beside your groom. His suit was tailored perfectly to his body, and the dark material was highlighted with navy silk and white trim. Lily of the Valley was pinned to his lapel, and his black and white curls had been tamed back, allowing you to get a better look at his face. 

You knew he was handsome before, but seeing him like this caused your heart to skip a beat. His shoulders were broader than you had initially perceived, and standing beside you like this, you couldn’t help but feel small, considering he towered above you by a foot. 

The priest cleared his throat and began the ceremony. When it came time for the ring, Diana stepped forward and held out a small, satin pillow with your wedding band tied to it. Her father removed the ring and his daughter eagerly waited for what was to come next. 

With skilled fingers, Bromley removed the glove from your hand and slipped the golden band on your ring finger. It sparkled under the morning sun and the priest uttered the five words that caused your heart to sink, ‘you may kiss the bride’. 

Your husband slowly bent down and with one of his hands, he cupped your chin and titled your face up. He inched closer and you instinctively closed your eyes. His lips barely pressed against yours, and he promptly pulled back. The party cheered and Diana pressed her face into you lower thighs. 

“I finally have a mother!” 

The reception lasted for a few hours, and with every passing minute, the reality of your marriage began to sink in. You remembered what Bromley said to you regarding love, and you couldn’t help but wonder if that was going to affect the events of your marriage bed. You had heard whispers regarding the actions that take place in a marital bed; you heard that for women it was painful, and that their husbands were more concerned for their comfort, not sparing their wives any ounce of concern. You also recalled that monsters and creatures had different means of reproduction, but you didn't know what any of it had meant. 

As the afternoon sun began to move in the sky, Bromley, Diana, and you waved  the guests goodbye. When their carriages disappeared from sight, Diana grabbed your hand and began dragging back towards. your new house. Bromley followed behind, but to his daughter's frustration, he shooed her away. When she gone, he began giving you a tour of the estate, and gave him your full attention. 

On the first floor was a ballroom, parlor, dining room, piano room, private study, Bromley’s office and the chambers for the house staff. You followed him up the steps and when you reached the second landing, you noticed the expensive vases that decorated the dark space. They were filled with fresh flowers and being proudly displayed on expensive columns of marble. 

He pointed to the door at the end of the hall. “That is my room.” he said. Then he pointed to the room adjacent his. “And this shall be your room.” 

Two rooms? You lowered your eyes and twirled your wedding band. You were confused; you had grown up with the notion that married couples shared the same bed. You knew that he was incapable of love, but you were still married, so didn’t those practices still apply to the two of you?

When you looked back up, you noticed that Bromley was no where in sight. You spun back around and frowned when you saw him continuing the tour. With swift feet, you caught up to him in no time, and he pointed to his daughter’s room. 

The tour continued until a maid found you. She explained that dinner was ready, and you followed your husband down the steps. You allowed this chance to see what the back of him looked like; the top of his abdomen was mostly white; the top part of his legs were black, only to become white, then band back to black, creating an alternating pattern. Compared to his daughter, his colors were more modest, and when you tried to think of him in different colors, your nose twitched—it didn't seem right. 

When you entered the dining room, you noticed that a chair had been placed on the other side of the table, and that it was the only chair. Three spots had been set, one by the chair, the second at the other end of the table, and the final one located halfway between the ends. 

Bromley placed one of his hands on the small of your back and led you towards the chair. He pulled it out and as you sat down, he pushed it back in. You watched as he walked towards the other end of the table, and bent his legs so that he was sitting at the table’s height. Even sitting, his broad figure loomed over the table. 

Betty walked into the room, holding Diana’s hand, and your new daughter ran to you. She handed you a thing of dandelions and she beamed up at you. “Do you like the flowers I picked you?” 

A soft smile appeared on your face and nodded. “They’re lovely, thank you.”

Like most children, Diana saw dandelions as flowers, completely obtuse to the fact that they were in fact weeds. Regardless, she looked so proud that you couldn’t find it in your heart to correct her. 

Once Diana was seated, the staff brought out the food. Plate upon plate was placed on the table, and you had to stop yourself from gawking. You had never seen so much food in once place before. Surely, no one was capable of eating all this food. 

Everyone started with soup, and the meal progressed until you couldn’t eat another bite. You watched in equal parts fascination and disgust as your husband and daughter continued to help themselves. This had to be their fourth helping. Empty plates were carted away, and new food was brought out, catching their attention. You glanced at the clock and stared with wide eyes. They had been eating for over two hours, and showed no signs of slowing down. You weren’t used to this; all the food, sitting for two hours at the dining table, watching servants come and go with more food, and having the chef come out every now and then to check up on you. It was so surreal and unlike anything you imagined. 

A half-hour later, Bromley and Diana stopped eating, and when you thought you could retire to your room, you were stopped by a large cart of dessert being wheeled out. There were a few slices of leftover wedding cake, puddings, custards, tarts, and more. You decided to eat a sliver of wedding cake, then you proceeded to eat a baked apple that tasted of lemon, brown sugar and spiced red wine. 

Another hour passed, and it seemed as if your family had finally had their fill. Diana was playing with a cookie, much too full to actually eat it, and your husband watched her in amusement. 

After the table was cleared, Betty approached you. “Ma’am, your bath is ready.” 

The idea of a bath sounded wonderful, and you followed her wordlessly up the steps. She opened the door and you took in the room. Like every other room in the manor, it was richly designed and kept barely lit with oil lamps hanging from the wall. In the center of the room was a large, four-clawed pewter tub, that could easily fit fifteen of you. Underneath appeared to be an indoor fire pit, and the burnt wood released soft tendrils of smoke in the air. 

Another maid entered the bathroom, bring a change of clothes and setting them on the counter of the sink. Betty began unbuttoning your wedding dress, and once that was off, she undid the lace of your corset. The chiffon material started to fall from your body, but you caught it before it fell to the floor. 

“You can leave now, Betty.” You said, turning your bare back to her. 

“Afraid not, my lady.” She replied, walking towards a rack lined with salts, oils, perfumes and soaps. “I have been ordered to help you wash.”

“I can wash myself just fine,” you huffed. 

The nymph caught sight of your pout and laughed. “Tell me, my lady, do you know how to get a fire salamander to spit fire?” 

You had heard of fire salamanders, they were exotic pets from another country that rich families purchased to heat their waters and protect their house. You had never seen one, but you had heard that they could be quite temperamental and unyielding. 

“I do not.” You admitted. 

And to your embarrassment, Betty removed the rest of your clothes, leaving you naked, then she pushed you towards the large tub. You had to climb up a small, wooden ladder in order to step into the tub, and when you did, you nearly shouted at the scalding heat of the water. 

You slowly eased yourself into the bath, and Betty began reading off the options; lavender salts, rose petals, milk and honey, and more. You decided on the milk and honey, and you watched as the elderly maid filled the bath. The water turned milky, hiding your naked figure, and she carefully stirred in the honey. 

She sat on her stool and watched as you lowered your head and blew bubbles into the bathwater. Plucking up what little courage you had, you spun around in the water and met Betty’s brown eyes. 

“Will my husband be visiting my room tonight?” Your voice was lighter than you had intended it to be, but Betty heard you well enough. 

“He will, Miss.” She noticed your confusion and she leaned forward on her stool. “A marriage is finalized once the two have you joined together.” 

Your body flushed with her words and you sunk further into the bath. 

The air in the room felt suffocating, and you played with the lace of your nightgown in attempt to calm your nervous. The ticking of the clock created a deafening melody, and you began pacing. The carpet was soft under your feet, and shadows danced off the rose colored walls, thanks to the candles that Betty had been kind enough to light. 

The curtains had yet to be drawn shut, and you contemplated on opening the window to let in a soft breeze. With nothing else to do, you did just that, and when the fresh air caressed your face, you felt better, like you could finally breathe. 

Knock! 

You snapped upright and felt your heart threaten to leap from your chest. You quickly cleared your throat and forced yourself to remain calm. 

“Come in,” you said, immediately cursing yourself for the way your voice sounded thready. 

The door opened and Bromley made his way in. He wore a simple white shirt, that hung loosely on him, and had a plunging neckline. You could make out the hard lines of his black chest, and you quickly looked away, trying your best to hide your flustered face. 

You heard the bed dip underneath your husband’s body, and when you looked up, you found him staring at the wall. He seemed as hesitant as you, but for different reasons; he was still yearning for his lost wife, whereas you were scared of what marital acts actually consisted of. 

“Come here, Y/N.” He said softly, not looking at you. 

Your feet felt heavy, and you slowly made your towards him. When you stopped in front of him, he finally looked at you, but his eyes were blank, they showed no emotion, and you found it unsettling. 

His second pair of hands settled on your hips, and his first set of hands began undoing the ribbon that kept your nightgown on you. As soon as the ribbon was removed, the top of your gown fell to the curves of your hips, only being kept up by Bromley’s hands. 

Your husband removed his eyes from you, and his hands began wandering the expanse of your naked chest. The tips of his fingers ghosted over the of the ridge of you collarbone, causing an unfamiliar heat to blossom between your thighs. To your embarrassment, his hand traveled lower and he gently cupped your breast. 

An undignified sound spilled from your mouth, and Bromley looked up at you with his blank eyes. Your breathing was becoming labored and heat began coursing throughout your body. 

Bromley removed the hands from your hips, and you gasped when the chilly air hit your exposed flesh. The drider stood up and stepped away from you. He removed his shirt, giving you a delightful view of his chiseled back. Like his torso, it was black in color, but where his back met the abdomen of his spider body, it shifted to white. He turned back around and he pointed to the bed. 

You climbed on top of the mattress and sat down on your knees. You covered your chest with you hands and held your breath as your husband climbed on the bed. The eggshell colored linen made his dark skin stand out, and as he got closer, you could make out an almost iridescent glow to the blue skin around his eyes. 

As he leaned closer, you leaned back, until you were laying on your back and he was hovering over you. All eight of his legs were splayed on either side, and with his second set of hands, he gently pulled your legs apart. He then settled his human half between them and looked at you. You had your hands covering your face and you were shaking with anxiety and fear. 

“Tell me, Y/N, what do you know of sex?” he asked, slowly rutting himself against your core. 

Your body immediately tensed under the strange sensation and you pressed your hands closer to your face. “I don’t know much.” You replied, sparing the man between your legs a glance. “I’ve heard that it hurts, though.”

“It can.” Bromley commented. “I’ll try to be gentle with you. Just try to relax.” 

Something sticky coated your inner thighs, and when you looked down you saw a bulge start to form where his human torso met his spider torso. The black hair was wet and something blue began to push itself out of what look like a slit. 

Bromley’s spider legs wrapped around your calves and he spread your legs open more. He continued to rut against your sex and every time he pulled back, the blue appendage grew longer, wider and wetter. The tip was bulbous, and something clear dripped from the slit. Dark veins ran underside the appendage, and there were deep ridges on it. As it got closer, you noticed the barely there specks of white that decorated his cock. They looked like freckles.  

When it stoped growing, he pulled back and met your hazy eyes. “If you want me to stop, tell me.” 

You gave him a nod and he pressed the tip against your entrance, causing you to tense. He lowered himself so that he pressed against your flushed chest, and his breath tickled your ear. 

“Relax, Y/N.”

You closed your eyes and tried to do just that. Bromley pushed his hips forward and when the tip entered you, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He immediately stilled and removed your arms. 

“You are not allowed to touch me.” He said, placing your hands on the bed. 

He nodded in encouragement as your grasped at the sheets, and he continued to sheath himself in you. You felt something inside of you rip, and small tears collected in the corner of your eyes. With one last thrust, he was fully inside you, and you cried out at the unfamiliar feeling and the pinprick pain you were feeling. 

You wanted to wrap your arms around Bromley, and you wanted to bury your head in the crook of his neck. The tears fell from your eyes and you scrunched your face as your walls tightened around him. 

Bromley’s body trembled as your sex continued to squeeze him, and he surprised you by wiping the tears from your face. He lowered himself onto you once more, and you had to remind yourself that he did not want you to touch him. 

“The pain will fade in a few seconds.” 

He lifted himself back up, so that he was hovering you once more, and after a pregnant pause, he slowly pulled out, only to thrust back into you. The pain was still there, but it was lessening by the second, only to leave in its wake an unfamiliar heat and budding pressure. 

Bromley remained quiet for the most part, only grunting and groaning here and there. You, on the other hand, were gasping when his tip brushed a particularly sensitive spot inside you, and withered underneath him, your knuckles blanching with the strength of your grip on the blankets. 

His second hands grabbed onto your hips and you shouted in pleasure as he lifted them up, allowing his cock to enter you deeper. Your eyes were becoming watery and you were becoming numb to everything around you aside from the pleasure that your husband was providing you. The heat you felt was becoming unbearable and the pressure you felt earlier had turned into a wild current of electricity. 

Your back arched and you cried loudly as an all-powerful energy washed over you, making ever nerve in your body come to life. Bromley moaned as your walls clamped around his sex, and he began thrusting harder and out of rhythm. 

As soon as the last wave of pleasure crashed over you, Bromley pulled out of you, painting your stomach and heaving breasts with thick ribbons of his seed. He continued to move his hips through the air, and he bit down hard on his white bottom lip. A few spurts of cum landed on your face and when he opened his eyes, he groaned at the beautiful sight. 

You watched in fascination as his cock grew flaccid and began to retreat in the damp slit within his spider’s abdomen. The two of you struggled to catch your breath, and you lazily pressed your legs back together, smearing your crimson tinted arousal. 

Bromley quickly dressed and left the room, only to return a minute later with a damp cloth. He sat beside your feet and carefully parted your thighs once more. You winced at the slight pain and watched as he gently wiped the mess on your stomach, chest and face, then he turned his attention to the juncture between your legs. 

Once cleaned, he pressed a kiss on the inside of your thigh and looked up at you. “Get some rest, Y/N.” 

You moved over the bed and while you burrowed under the sheets, Bromley removed the most superficial blanket, which contained a few spots of blood. He folded it up before you could see it, and once you were settled, he blew out the candles. The room was still lit with the silvery rays of the moon, and you watched as your husband made his way to the door, with a blanket tucked under his arm. He stepped out of the room, but before shutting the door, he spared you one last glance. It looked as if he was going to say something, but he decided against it. 

You licked your lips and sat up in the bed, clutching the sheets to your chest. “Sleep well, my lord.” 

His eyes widened and he sent you a soft smile. “You as well, Y/N.” 

When the door closed, you fell backwards into the pile of pillows and pulled one to your chest. Your mind was racing and you couldn’t stop picturing his naked body above yours. He looked so beautiful and you were angry at him for not letting you touch him. Sharing your body was the most intimate thing you could do, and he acted like it was nothing. Was this going to change how he treated you? Was he going to be visiting your room every night, only to leave you once his needs were satisfied? 

Fresh tears spilled from the rim of your eyes and buried your face into the pillow that you were squeezing. Doubt and regret was starting to eat away at your psyche and you felt yourself become numb. Could you really be the wife of a man that could not love? 

Tag List: @theamericanjewitch​ @because-im-real​ @kenmasunwashedass​

[iliveiloveiwrite]

A Truth Universally Acknowledged // Anthony Bridgerton

Request: Hi angel! I love all of your stories, especially your Bridgerton and work! Is there any way you could write something soft and fluffy for Anthony and a female reader! PLEASE AND THANK YOU - Anon.

A/N: I haven’t written for Anthony in what seems like forever! As much as I love Benedict, I do love writing Anthony fics. This isn't overly long, I just wanted to write something soft and fluffy that’s entirely domestic as well. I hope you all like! Title is a quote from the first line of Pride and Prejudice (further quotes from the book are in italics).

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader.

Warnings: none - fluff, books, marriage, happy relationships, cute.

Word Count: 1.6k

The house is silent as Anthony strides through the waiting, open door. He nods his greeting to the Butler, Wilkins, before letting the weariness that had haunted him all day settle over his bones.

“Wilkins?” Anthony asks; no need to voice the question. Wilkins knows.

“Lady Bridgerton is in the Green-and-Gold, sir.”

Anthony smiles at the Butler. “You really do know everything.”

Wilkins smiles; nods his head. “It is my job, sir. Lady Bridgerton has already told me that you will take your final meal of the day in there, too.”

Anthony takes the stairs two at a time; refusing to accept his laboured breathing by the time he reaches the top. He was not an old man yet; he was still a very active man.

Turning left, he wanders blindly to the Green-and-Gold room named for the colour scheme of the walls and the furniture. His late grandmother had decorated the room; so fondly remembered by her ancestors that each refused to change a thing in the room save for any upholstering that needed to be done occasionally.

He finds you sitting on the left hand side of the room; the comfier side as argued by everyone who visits the room. Your legs are curled underneath you as your eyes pour over the page of an open book in your lap. From here, Anthony cannot possibly hazard a guess as to what you might be reading, but he feels a twinge of jealousy at the attention being paid to the book and not to him.

Well, love makes fools of us all, Anthony thinks to himself. “Darling,” Anthony greets in one single breath, as if the sight of you makes it all the easier for him to breathe.

“Darling,” You smile, standing from your seat, coming to greet the man you love with every fibre of your being. “How was your day?”

Anthony groans as he removes his jacket before tugging at the knot of his cravat. “Long,” He complains, struggling with the neckpiece. You smile at your husband, batting his hands away from his neck so you can take over. You feel the heat of his gaze as your hands work to do undo the knot he had tightened with a single tug; as the fabric unravels under your nimble fingers your husband reaches out to squeeze your waist.

“Thank you,” He whispers, voice full with an emotion you can’t quite decipher. Love? Weariness? A combination of both? Anthony looked ragged as you run your eyes over his face.

“I’m sorry that your day has been taxing, my love.”

“It’s all the better now that I’m here with you.”

“Flatterer,” You tease with no real heat behind your words. Anthony beams at you; eyes crinkling in the corners from the force of it as his hands tighten on your waist and his head dips to capture your lips in the kiss he has been thinking about for the better part of his day.

Breaking away, Anthony plants one, two, three kisses to your lips in quick, chaste succession leaving you breathless and highly amused. “How was your day?” He asks, curious as ever to find out what his wife does when he isn’t at home to distract you.

“Dull,” You answer plainly, enjoying the feel of Anthony’s strong arms around you.

“Dull?”

You purse your lips, thinking over your plans for the day so far. “I suppose dull doesn’t work. It hasn’t been dull at all.”

“Oh?”

“I’m only saying it because I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” He murmurs, kissing you once more. “What are you reading?” Anthony asks when he pulls away, spying the book laid delicately on the couch.

“Eloise let me borrow it. She gave me it when I called to see her this morning,” You answer, leaving the comfort of Anthony’s arms to take your seat on the couch.

“Darling, you know we have an entire library full of books, don’t you?”

Fixing him with an unimpressed look, you counter, “Your sister read this and thought of me. The least I could do is read it.”

“Alright,” Anthony sighs, knowing a losing battle when he sees one. “Budge up.”

“Pardon?”

Anthony gestures to the couch. “Make some room for me.”

A puzzled look settles across your face, but you follow the request, nonetheless, shifting on the couch so Anthony has room to sit down.

Anthony settles with his head on your lap; offering you a self-satisfied smile when you raise an eyebrow at him. “Comfy?” You ask, voice laced with humour.

“Very,” He responds. “Will you start from the beginning? I don’t want to miss anything.”

Chuntering about high maintenance husbands, you mark the page you got to before returning to the beginning. “Anything else before I begin?”

“Nothing… Oh, one thing.”

“That is?”

“I love you.”

Any previous ire you felt towards your husband disappears at those three magical words. The frustrated slant to your brow evens out as you reach out to stroke a hand through his hair and down the side of his face.

“I love you too,” You answer earnestly, feeling the power of the emotion running through you.

A peaceful look crosses Anthony’s face as your words sink into his skin like a balm on an open wound. He had felt neglectful lately; not spending as much time at home as he would have liked. He felt bad for leaving you so alone. Without children, you were your own companion throughout the day, and whilst you had both discussed having children, Anthony was to be left mildly vexed at the thought of you spending your days alone until a child was born.

The opening of parliament combined with Anthony’s seat in the House meant that he was spending more and more time in Westminster and less time with you.

A ratio Anthony was not fond of.

“I’m ready when you are,” He whispers; eyes focused on your face so he can watch every reaction and see every syllable leave your mouth.

Flashing an annoyed look at your husband, you take a deep breath and begin:

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.”

“What?” Anthony asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“Hush,” You admonish half-heartedly before continuing.

“However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered as the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters.”

“This author is a genius,” Anthony exclaims, his voice awed as he tries to catch a glimpse of the cover to see the author’s name. “Who wrote this?”

“Are you going to comment the whole way through? I’ve barely read two paragraphs.”

“Sorry, darling, but I have to know. Who wrote this?”

“Her name is Jane Austen.”

“Well Jane Austen is a genius. In two paragraphs she’s captured what it is like to be a single man with a fortune in and amongst the sharks with unattached daughters.”

“Sharks?” You ask, highly amused at your husband’s words.

“Mothers,” Anthony shudders, remembering what it was like to go through so many seasons still unmarried. A Viscount with two seats of power combined with a hefty ancestral fortune – many mothers didn’t care whether Anthony would love their daughters; they simply wanted a fortuitus marriage that would leave them set for life.

Anthony thanks any and all gods and deities out there that he found his love match in you. You had taken him by surprise; Anthony had already resigned himself to a season with countless mothers forcing their daughters onto his arm. Until one evening early into the season, he had been listening to Gregory whine about the workload at Eton when his eyes met yours from across the room. In a total state of cliché, Anthony met your gaze, and he knew. He knew that he was going to spend the rest of his life loving you, worshipping you. He knew that whatever his future held, you would be right there weathering it alongside him. In a single glance from across the room, he knew.

You were married before the season finished; a special licence dispensed after a favour from the Archbishop called in. Anthony couldn’t wait; didn’t want to wait – he wanted to start the rest of his life with you as soon as possible.

Your light laughter breaks Anthony out of his reverie. “They aren’t all that bad,” You argue. “I suspect you’ll be worse than me when it comes to our children.”

Anthony snorts; doubting your words but loving the way you speak so openly about your hopeful future family. Clearing your throat, you continue to read on.

Anthony settles further into your lap; letting the calmness of your voice wash over him. After a moment of watching the concentration on your face, Anthony lets his eyes slip closed. He has no intention of falling asleep; he simply wants to enjoy this moment to its fullest.

“Mr Bingley was good looking and gentlemanlike; he had a pleasant countenance, and easy, unaffected manners. His sisters were fine women, with an air of decided fashion. His brother-in-law, Mr Hurst, merely looked the gentleman; but his friend Mr Darcy soon drew the attention of the room by his fine, tall person, handsome features…”

A snore interrupts your rendition of Pride and Prejudice. Pausing mid-sentence, you look down to your lap where Anthony has fallen asleep so peacefully. Smiling softly at the man, you close the book, placing it to one side before running a hand through Anthony’s ever-unruly hair. He hums contentedly, pushing his head further into your hand as you begin to scratch at his scalp.

As you watch Anthony doze dreamily, you feel your eyes lose the fight against the growing tiredness. Your hand stills in Anthony’s hair as you fall asleep alongside your husband, utterly content at the path your life has taken considering it led you to him.

*****

Bridgerton Taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore​ @dreaming-about-fanfictions​ @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown​ @janelongxox​ @aspiringsloth20​ @wallwriterstuff​ @magicalxdaydream​ @darkestbeforethedawn16​ @gryffindors-weasley​ @spideysz​

[strawwritesfic]

Thor Odinson x Female!Pregnant!Stark!Reader: Shock

Summary: Rule number one: Don’t come between a thunder god and the love of his life.

Rating/Warnings/Tags: T (some coarse language; references to sex; Thor & Sif friendship; one-sided!Sif/Thor; set post-Thor Ragnarok; not Avengers: Infinity War compliant; Tony’s little sister!Reader; overprotective sibling!Tony; eye patch!Thor; Stark Tower; reference to Agents of SHIELD)

Challenge: "160 Collective Drabbles" challenge by BobaPop on Lunaescence Archives.  

Shock

Manhattan could not have been more different from Asgard if it had set itself up to be so. Crowds of people and of vehicles, smog, the noise and smells of street vendors all moved through the narrow spaces between blocky, towering buildings. A steely blue-gray sky peeked out only occasionally to dazzle pedestrians—pedestrians such as Thor and Sif.

“It is good to see Midgard is as well as we left it,” Thor commented as he and his companion swam upstream in the direction of their goal.

Rather than watch the approaching throng, Sif looked down and pulled at the cuff of her sleeve. “I’m still not sure about the clothes,” she said with a frown, “or about having Heimdall drop us off so far away.”

Indeed, both she and Thor had dressed themselves in garb more fitting of Midgardian civilians rather than Asgardian warriors. Thor thought he looked fine enough, but Sif did have a point. Her long woolen coat and scarf did not suit her the way her usual armor did.

“I enjoy a brisk walk,” he answered, then grinned, “and my arrival is to be a surprise. Heimdall’s typical method of deposit could hardly hope to avoid Stark’s attention for very long.”

“Aye, or that Strange fellow.”

“Or the Strange fellow. He I cannot afford to deal with this day.”

Though a small one, Sif allowed herself a smile of her own. “You truly are looking forward to see her, aren’t you?”

Thor’s smile grew softer. “It has been too long.”

“Asgard has had need of you.”

The lofty figure of the previous Avengers’ headquarters broke out of the otherwise uniform backdrop of metal and brick. Thor and Sif both drew to a stop in front of its smooth cement steps.

“And now that it does not, I hope to spend just as much time here. I am glad you agreed to join me, Sif.”

“Oh, I’m not joining you in surprising your girlfriend,” Sif said cheerfully.

His face twisted with confusion. “You’re not?”

“No, I rather think doing so might come across as awkward. I planned to visit the Son of Coul this afternoon during your joyous reunion.”

“It would not be awkward if you were there.”

“How little you understand of women.” Sif stepped around him, turning on the sidewalk to wave goodbye. “I will join you this evening. Give my regards to [Name].”

Her dark head disappeared into the constantly shifting horde of Midgardians before Thor could attempt to change her mind—not that he had much of hope of doing so. Once Sif chose a course, she saw it through. Though Thor felt slightly disappointed by the temporary loss of the last of his closest friends, he took heart in knowing that she meant her promise to return by sunset. Perhaps she was even correct. He had accepted Sif’s unreturned feelings for him with grace and appreciation. His girlfriend that had not seen him in eight months might not find it in her heart to do so.

Thor blinked to find he’d been waving after Sif for the whole of his ruminations on his tangled web of female relationships. A few nearby onlookers stared. He waved at them as well, then rapidly climbed up the steps to the door.

His heart pounded so hard that it nearly hurt. Since he had grown up fighting monsters larger than himself, he could only guess that Sif leaving him alone for his “joyous reunion” was more troubling than he knew. Jane—the sweetest-natured being Thor had ever met—had slapped him for a long absence before. What you would do to him, he could not guess.

His shoulders squared, Thor forced himself to step inside the tower. If you slapped him, it would not hurt. If you were angry, then he would simply have to do everything in his considerable power to prove his feelings for you were true. That was all. He was confident that he could manage that much. After all, while he had not entirely prevented Ragnarok, he had managed to get a considerable portion of the Asgardian populace to safety and mend his own bridges with his brother—neither an easy feat to do on its own. Surely re-winning the heart of his love would be simple in comparison.

This decided, Thor’s cheer returned. He strode with purpose toward the elevator…only for the doors to open before he arrived in front of them. A figure in jeans and a dark shirt stepped out.

“Stark!” Thor cried jovially. The sudden appearance of his friend called for a hug, he thought, but Tony put a hand out to forestall him.

“Easy there, Point Break. Where do you think you’re going?”

Thor stepped back, confused enough to momentarily forget the quarrel he had over that particular nickname. Tony stood with his feet braced on the floor and his arms across his chest.

“I do not understand. Did you come down here to stop me from entering the building?” Thor asked.

“Not the building, obviously, but close enough. We’ll count you right on the first guess. Color me surprised.”

“But how did you—”

“Know you were coming?” Tony interrupted. “I didn’t. Thought you were still in space. FRIDAY caught you on security cams waving to Xena for about five minutes. You’ve got some nerve.”

At first Thor could not figure out what had Tony so annoyed. This “Xena” was Sif; that was easy enough to work out. It was not the first time someone on Midgard had referred to her as such. Then it hit him: What if what Sif feared was true?

“That was the Lady Sif,” Thor assured him. “She is my friend.”

“Friend with benefits?”

This phrase Thor truly did not get the gist of. “She benefits me in battle through her strength and—”

“Woah there. Don’t care. Don’t want to hear it. Must not be benefiting you that much if you lost an eye.”

Though puzzled, Thor was determined to fulfill his quest. He could find an answer to the riddle of Tony’s strange attitude later on in the day. It was not he that Thor had come seeking, after all.

“I have come to see [Name],” he said in his politest of tones. “Where is she?”

“You think I’m gonna tell you? She’s got enough on her plate without you breaking up with her.” Tony turned and walked into the waiting lift. “Goodbye. I won’t tell her that you came by.”

Being rude to Thor was one thing. Keeping him away from the woman he loved was another. He braced himself in the middle of the elevator doors and shoved them apart with a great shriek of metal.

“Don’t you dare break my house!” Tony shouted.

“Then tell me where [Name] is.”

Tony frowned. “On second thought, break my house. Better that than my baby sister’s heart.”

That was, as the Midgardians put it, the final straw. With very little effort on Thor’s part, he pushed the rest of his body into the elevator.

“Main elevator door is compromised,” said a female voice from somewhere above their heads.

Tony lifted his eyes heavenward. “Thank you, FRIDAY. I know.”

“Whatever problem you have with me, we can talk it over later. I promise you that I have no intention of breaking your sister’s heart,“ said Thor.

“What, like you haven’t already?”

“Please. Unless you’d like to fight over it. I would leave, if you could defeat me in one-on-one battle.”

Tony eyed the “umbrella” in Thor’s hand with obvious trepidation.

“Your funeral,” he muttered at last, then lifted his voice to add, “FRIDAY, take us to [Name]’s floor.”

“Right away, sir.”

The broken lift doors wobbled as the mechanism sprang to life. Empty doorways and solid floors flashed past Thor’s eye.

“That’s more like it!” he said enthusiastically.

“You try to push me out of here, and the deal is off,” Tony said.

“I would not dream of it, my friend.” It was only an unfortunate side effect of Thor’s might that the jovial clap he gave Tony’s back sent the latter stumbling forward. “Sorry,” Thor said, in reply to Tony’s scowl. Perhaps now would be a better time to try making nice than later. “How have you been?”

“Busy,” Tony replied shortly. “I’ve got a kid in Queens that’s busting my ass.”

“I have been busy also. Much needed doing in the other Realms. Many battles have been fought since last we met.”

“Right.”

Luckily, Thor was not required to attempt further small talk. The elevator slowed, and FRIDAY announced:

“Now arriving at the floor belonging to [F Name] Stark.”

Tony wasted no time shoving around Thor and heading for the hall beyond the gaping space before them. Thor followed at a trot; a faint static electricity surrounded him.

“[Name]!” Tony shouted. “You’ve got company! I tried to kick him out, but he wouldn’t take the hint.”

“Who is it?” asked a new voice from nearer by than Thor expected.

The entrance hall led into a spacious living area. A figure rose clumsily from one of the chairs inside.

“[Name]!” Thor said, and you froze. Something about you didn’t look quite right, but in his eagerness, it took him a few seconds to realize what it was. The size of you; that was it. “You are…enormous!”

You certainly were. Though one palm was spread across your stomach, the obvious swell there could not be missed.

“Thor?” Your eyes widened so far they looked in danger of popping right out.

“Happy now?” Tony demanded. “Now will you leave?”

This shook you from your stupor well enough to level a glare at your older brother. “Tony,” you said in a warning tone.

“What? The guy knocks you up, disappears for eight months, and comes back with another woman. What am I supposed to think?”

“That I can handle myself?”

“Hardly.”

“You’re pregnant?”

Thor did not know why he asked. The proof stood right in front of him. Outside of a handful of inter-dimensional parasites he knew of, nothing could cause your body to look as it did then. He was fairly certain you had not been to space since he’d last seen you, so pregnancy seemed the only option.

You turned a wry smile on him. “You’re missing an eye?”

“It’s a long story.”

“So’s mine. You’re seeing someone else?”

His eye cut toward Tony, and this time Tony had the sense to back into the adjoining kitchen. If he had ruined Thor’s relationship with you through blurting out falsehoods, they would have words. Thor took a step in your direction. You did not back away, something he took as a good sign.

“The Lady Sif has friends on Earth as well, so she traveled here with me. We are friends. Nothing more.”

Your expression didn’t change. Tony coughed in such a fashion as to suggest that Thor had far overstayed his welcome. Imploringly, Thor took another step toward you.

“Is it mine?” he asked.

You rolled your eyes. “Who else would it belong to? The kid is huge.”

Thor let out a roar that made Tony flinch—but not you. You knew it was a roar of delight. At last—after months of waiting—Thor closed the gap between you. He wanted desperately to lift you into the air, but held himself back. Spinning you around in circles in the air might disturb the baby. Likely human babies were more fragile than the babies Thor had grown up around. Instead, he stopped and took you in, the smell and the sight of you after so much time had passed.Then he held a hand out toward your belly.

“May I?”

“Of course.”

Permission granted, Thor crouched, ran his palm around the swell, and pressed his lips to your shirt. You laughed as you kissed the top of his head. For those few seconds, he felt like it was just the three of you in the entire world—before Tony cleared his throat impatiently and ruined the effect.

“That’s it? You forgive him? Just like that?” he asked.

“What do you want me to do?” you replied hotly. “Kick him out on his ass?”

“Maybe! At least make him work for it!”

At that, Thor stood to his fullest height. Only your steady hand on his bicep prevented him from making to show Tony his displeasure.

“You would keep me from my own child?” he said in a voice full of cold fury.

Tony was not intimidated. “You kept yourself from your own child. ‘Much needed doing in the other Realms,’ remember?”

“It did. Had I known—”

“Had you bothered to keep in contact with her, you mean.”

“That’s enough,” you said sharply. Even Thor fell silent when you used that tone. But your hand slid into his open palm, and he knew that it was not he that was in trouble. “He came back, Anthony. That’s what’s important.”

Tony threw his hands up in defeat and turned to leave. “Fine. See if I ever play overprotective brother for you again.”

“I never asked you to play overprotective brother.”

“You’re grounded,” Tony called over the noise of the elevator grinding back to your floor.

“You can’t ground me! I’m a mom!”

As the sound of Tony leaving grew fainter and fainter, you and Thor held very still. Neither of you dared to breathe. About five minutes passed before he asked: “Is he gone?”

You answered by pulling him in for a very long, very passionate kiss.

“Tell me,” Thor panted afterward, “what is the baby? What did you name it? Did you truly think that I would not come back to you? When—”

“Later.” When you kissed him a second time, it was brief, but you smiled into it. “I take it we’ve got time to talk about it? You’re not planning on running off on me again any time soon?”

“Not unless the ship really needs me. I put Loki in charge of the people, and I put Heimdall in charge of Loki. There shouldn’t be any need for me until they all get here.” Then Thor recalled his conversation with Sif from earlier that very day, and a faint tendril of guilt crept into his stomach “Sif said to give you her regards. She did plan to stop by when she finished with SHIELD. Will that be okay?”

Your dragging him toward the couch was answer enough. “Fine, but she is not sleeping up here with us. I don’t need Tony dreaming up a ménage à trois on top of everything else.”

“No, I agree. She can sleep in one of the guest quarters.” As Thor spoke, he pulled your back against his chest with one hand and began to rub your upper arm with the other. “Now, tell me everything that happened while I was gone.”

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

And you did, snuggled up on the furniture with him. Thor closed his eye and smiled. To think, if he had not come that day, he might have missed the birth of his child. Thank Bor for Sif and her insisting on his coming to see you. Thank Bor for you and forgiveness. Thank Bor that Midgard was different enough from Asgard that it held you, and it held you safe. He couldn’t have asked for a better reunion if he’d planned it out—Tony’s overprotectiveness and all.

[mega-aulover]

Until The Midnight Hour

SUMMARY: The Games don’t exist. District 12 is divided by those who live in the mountains, i.e. the Seam, and those who live in the valley, the Merchants. The folk of the mountains are simple folk and are often denied education. Books are priceless and only those who have the means to own them. Katniss is a bookworm who has found her treasure trove in the Mayor's home. Her troubles begin with a book, Psyche and Cupid. Both Katniss and Peeta are drawn into a clash between Roman gods, tricksters, and reality. Can they win against the gods as they relive the journey of Psyche?

RATED M

A/N: For @jhsgf82 I hope this brings you joy. Thank you to my beta @norbertsmom I will be posting this part tomorrow on AO3 & FFN. Along with ch 2

CH1

"The Baker's Lottery, a retelling of Psyche and Cupid," Katniss read out loud.

Just the sound of the name caused a jolt of forbidden want to travel up and down her spine. She eyed the book the way someone else would eye their lover. Katniss loved reading. It was her secret passion. Ever since she became friends with the Mayor's daughter, Katniss had been allowed to borrow one book a week. She'd been steadily reading through the collection; there were hundreds of books in the library. Its walls were packed with shelves of tomes of different genres. From Fiction to Autobiographies.

Katniss had read Oedipus Rex, Night, Macbeth, Jane Eyre, Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, Charlotte's Web, Peter Pan, The Fault in Our Stars, Harry Potter, The Underland Chronicles, The Narnia Chronicles, The Iliad and The Odyssey, To Kill A Mockingbird, Of Mice and Men, The Diary of Anne Frank, Astrophysics for People in a Hurry, and various others books that were in Madge's library.

Katniss didn't care; she loved reading.

The one book she hadn't read and always skipped over was Psyche and Cupid. This book caught her attention in the library a while back, but she never had the gall to pick it up. She'd refrained because Madge told her it was a romance. Romances were the only subject she really didn't like.

In Katniss's opinion, romance was for suckers.

She didn't believe in romance, love at first sight, or any type of nonsensical emotional heated allure of any kind. She'd seen the folly of those who have dared to go down that path. Her mother fell into a deep depression when her father died. Madge was divorcing her husband. Her own sister had been dumped by her first boyfriend. The list went on and on.

Katniss believed most people fell in lust. It was a powerful drive to procreate. Lust blinded people. It was an obsession. Right now, her blind obsession was with this book.

Katniss turned away from the book and headed to the opposite corner. There on the shelf glaring back at her was a baking compendium. Heat filled her cheeks. Katniss turned around and glowered at the book.

Psyche and Cupid called to her.

Her hands shook from the want to open the book to discover the hidden tale. Her ears wanted to hear the crinkling of the pages as she lovingly turned each one. It was such a thrill to feel the weight of a tome in her hands. Or to know that a hidden treasure was in her backpack waiting until she was in the confines of her home in the woods to be opened and devoured by her eyes.

The ornate spine of the leather-bound book with its rich elaborate gold plated writing stared back at Katniss.

Determined, she walked across the library and plucked the book from where it sat on the shelf. Quickly, Katniss slipped the book into her bag.

As soon as Katniss arrived at her cabin in the woods, she immediately washed her hands, made herself a cup of tea, and heated up a hearty bowl of stew.

Anticipation thrummed through her system as she changed into her nightgown. Her belly full, with a good cup of tea in hand, she headed toward her old beat-up recliner that sat before the fire. Her hands itched as she drew the book from the insides of her bag.

Katniss began reading.

The night stars shone brightly in the inky depth of the sky.

A warm fire greeted those who sat around it. Its flames warmed the chilled skin of those gathered watching their flocks. Each one recalling a story told to them by a parent or ancestor.

"I tell you it doesn't matter if you call him Eros or Cupid, they both make men weak when they are shot with one of his arrows," one of the shepherds explained to the others.

"I'm never going to fall in love," Sejanus, the youngest of the shepherds grumbled.

"That's what I said, then I met Helena and my entire world turned upside down."

One of the listeners leaned against his shepherd's stick. He was an elderly man with a paunch and graying hair. His hooded cloak lay on his shoulders. Those speaking became quiet. His stories were the best. The young shepherds gathered eyes lit up.

"Hush, he's about to speak…" the youngest shepherd admonished the others.

Quite settled upon the group.

Having the attention of others, the elder's handsome voice filled the air, as fireflies danced around them. "Many stories have been told about love, but none more compelling than the story I am going to tell you."

K-P-K-P-K

Katniss smiled to herself having read the introduction. This wasn't a romance. This story had all of the earmarks of an adventure. Her mind conjured up a cast of men ranging in ages sitting around the fire listening to a wise elder telling the story.

This reminded her of her grandfather sitting before the hearth recounting stories of old. The happy memory was one of the few Katniss had before the ailment had come in and wiped out so many loved ones. Those who survived were grateful.

The ailment had inadvertently caused her mother and the family that lived in the valley to reconcile. Her sister Prim grew up with the hope of being something more than a poor miner's wife. Her sister was studying medicine.

Katniss sighed and picked up the book. Happily, she continued reading.

Once there was a boy so beautiful and strong that lived in the land of Panem.

This young man was so lovely that all who saw him or met him loved him. His graciousness, charm, and good looks caused the goddess of love, Aphrodite to be jealous of him.

Aphrodite wanted to get rid of him so she caused jealousy and hatred to poison his mother's heart. But nothing that his mother did would make Percy Melliard any less wonderful. He was a renowned baker, a painter, a boy who never took sugar in his tea, and always slept with the windows open to be able to appreciate nature.

Aphrodite, sent her son Cupid to shoot the boy with an arrow making him fall in love with a hideous creature, but when Cupid took aim on the boy, Cupid's daughter Diana got in the way and she fell in love with the boy. Cupid mourned for his daughter's fate. Aphrodite, when jealous, was a cruel mistress.

Aphrodite was not amused and did not want her granddaughter to find the boy. Diana was a mighty huntress. Her heart was filled with love for the boy and she desired to be with Percy. For Cupid, who loved his daughter, there was only one solution and that was to give her Percy in the hopes the boy would fall in love with her. He brought Diana to a cabin in the woods and told her to stay there and he would deliver the boy to her.

Disguising himself as an old hunter, Cupid went to the boy's village of Dodékatos on the Island of Panem.

Time passed, and as Cupid expected, his daughter confined to the forest continued her hunting. She often fed the needy children and widows with her game. Cupid used his daughter's hunting to his advantage, spreading through the village that there was a ferocious half-woman half-beast. The villagers called her the she-wolf.

The man from within the crowd shouted, "Something has to be done!"

Dodékatos was the smallest of all of the villages, comprising of fifty families. The heads of the families were present, in total thirty-seven men, gathered at the Assembly, located in front of the justice building. They were all afraid of the creature.

Homer Melliard stood up. "I thought, like many of you, that the old hunter Everdeen's stories were the ramblings of an old man."

Gale, one of the village trappers, stood up and shouted, "It's true there's no game to be found in the woods. I haven't caught anything in weeks!" A murmur spread throughout the crowd. Gale continued speaking, "Everdeen's stories are right, the creature that is slowly eating them will come after livestock."

"How can we stop the creature?"

Gale responded to his neighbor, "We hunt it down."

Just before Gale could incite the crowd further, Everdeen stood. "If the creature is smart enough to get your game from your traps, then it's something that cannot be hunted."

Everdeen stood amongst the men. He removed his cloak. His white hair fell to his shoulders. For an elderly man, he still had the vigor of a man half his age.

Gale narrowed his eyes at Everdeen, "So how do we get rid of this creature?"

"It's nearly the brightest moon," Everdeen said.

No one in the crowd understood.

"She needs to be mated with a human. Once she's mated, they tend to settle down, but this only happens during the brightest moon." Everdeen's eyes looked like liquid mercury as he glanced at the crowd. No one spoke; the floor was his. "We have to find her a mate, a young, virtuous, unattached male of marriageable age."

"Will he be able to come back to us?"

"Only if she allows him to, that is if she doesn't eat him," Everdeen said.

To sacrifice a son was something hard to do. None of the men wanted to volunteer, not even Gale who was indeed a young man. Haymitch, one of the older men said, "We should hold a lottery; this way it is fairly done."

The men were silent, but it was the only way to fairly decide which young man would be sacrificed to marry the beast. The vote was cast and the lottery was decided upon. The reaping would take place on the afternoon of the brightest moon.

K-P-K-P-K

Katniss chuckled that her last name was in the book. Everdeen was a common name amongst the Covey. Her father was from a proud line of entertainers and storytellers.

It wouldn't have surprised her if for some reason a Covey tale was made into a book at one point in time, and that one of her ancestors published it.

On the day of the reaping, it was a clear day, a perfect day for a wedding.

Women wept for their precious children. Their fathers stood proudly to the side, waiting to hear the name of the poor young man who would be selected. The young men stood side by side, as a stone with a marker was placed in a clay pot. Since it was Haymitch's idea, he stood in the assembly before the entire village.

It was still and the sun relentlessly beat down on the waiting crowd, as Haymitch dipped his hand into the pot. Closing his eyes, he withdrew a stone and presented it to the crowd. There was a shout in the crowd, but it wasn't from a mother, rather from a father. All eyes flew to Homer Melliard. He grieved, holding his youngest son, Percy. His mother stood indifferently, she didn't want to touch him.

Everyone in the village was stunned. Percy was the one person in the village that everyone favored. He had a tender and good heart, always giving baked goods to the widows and treated everyone with respect. Many an eye became teary for his fate.

Percy squared his shoulders, trying to hide that his heartbeat so fast out of fright. He separated from his father, stepping to where Everdeen stood, mentally composing himself for his future.

"Come along, son."

Percy said nothing but followed the aging hunter through the crowd as their hands lifted up in a three-fingered salute out of respect and caring. When they reached the edge of the forest, Percy noticed the vibrant hues of green; he had an artistic eye. He didn't say anything, only wondered what his life would hold.

When they arrived in the deepest part of the woods, it was already dark. They came to a clearing. Everdeen stopped walking. "This is where she's made her den. You must never see her during the day. Do you understand?" The old man tied a band around his eyes. "If you do, grave things will happen to you."

Percy nodded.

"Promise me with your life that you will never set eyes on her."

"I promise," Percy said, although he wasn't sure why it was so important.

"Good," Everdeen affirmed.

Percy allowed the man to guide him through the forest.

"This is where our paths must diverge," Everdeen whispered. The old man took Percy's hands and gave him something wrapped up in cloth. "Take this bread and offer it to her. If she accepts you, she will take a piece of the bread and feed it to you. If she doesn't, she will attack."

Percy's hands shook as he brought the bread to his nose and he recognized the sweet smell. It was a dark loaf with fruits and nuts, often used in marriages.

He took several deep breaths for courage before he stumbled forward, his free hand outstretched to catch his fall. Instead, he felt a stone wall before him. Curious, he lifted a corner of the band to see where he was but could not see a house.

Percy looked back, but Everdeen had disappeared. Alone, he wondered if this was where he met his demise; it was then he heard her singing. Her voice was lovely and something otherworldly. Each note sung, sounded so lonely. It struck a deep chord within him. He understood her pain, her voice ripped through his defenses. And although he heard her voice he could not see the house. He reached out and felt nothing.

Sighing he let the blindfold fall once more and his hands touched wood. He surmised he was before a cottage that his mortal eyes could not see.

Percy was the most sought-after man in the village, though his mother stopped the offers. He had seen beauty in all shapes and sizes. He admired them, but not once did his heart yield. Yet this monstrous creature caused his entire body to become alive with want and need. He put his trust not in his eyes but in something greater.

The voice did not convey the winged serpent-like creature he envisioned. Finding the door he opened it and stepped inside.

The singing stopped. "Percy," she whispered his name.

"I am," Percy said. He held out the bread for toasting. He did not hear her steps nor did he hear her slither, but he could smell her; her scent was not what he expected. She smelled of lavender and fresh field flowers. Her scent was alluring. It hit a chord within him. He was usually surrounded by the smells of the bakery. He used his sense of smell to try to detect something foul, but everything he smelled was normal for a home; the scent of drying oregano, a stew that was near completion, olive oil, and the sweet smell of wine.

"You want to toast with me?" her voice was husky.

He picked up trepidation in her voice, "Yes."

The bread was lifted from his hands and he heard a hiss, not from an animal, but the familiar hiss of a fire as it crackled to life. The room grew warm as the fire burned. Percy was filled with curiosity about the creature he was to marry.

"Here," she handed him a piece of the toasted bread. "You don't have to do this," she whispered. He felt it when she walked away from him.

"Wait," Percy said. He thought of the consequences for his selfishness: his village would be destroyed by hunger. He couldn't think of his father being hungry. Squaring his broad shoulders Percy told himself this wouldn't be so bad; she smelled good and her song was lovely and recalling it made his body harden. "I want to marry you, sing for me, please."

He could feel her breath next to his arm when she came to stand by him again. Surprisingly his heart pounding wasn't from fear but from his growing desire.

The first notes of her song enchanted him, all of the hairs on his body stood on end as her voice penetrated the deepest part of his soul. Her voice was a lover's kiss upon his heart and flesh. He was heated and his flesh ached to be joined with hers.

K-P-K-P-K

Katniss stopped reading and her cheeks felt as if on fire. Typically when books became romantic, as in the case with a racy novel called The Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure, Katniss would stop reading and return the book to the library. There were some stories that were just too much, like Emma. Katniss had an instant dislike for the meddlesome busybody who thought herself better than everyone else. She'd never finished that book and hissed at it like Buttercup did whenever she passed its location in Madge's library.

There were rare books that were romantic that she didn't mind, like The Fault in Our Stars and Jane Eyre. These books took Katniss longer to read, but in the end, they were filled with real strife. Life wasn't easy and she appreciated the earnest portrayals rather than the over-glorified odes to love.

This book, however, had snuck up on Katniss. She fanned herself with the book to calm her body down. As she read, she kept on imagining herself and a certain man she often and secretly fantasized about.

Nothing she did seemed to cool her burning body. Katniss gave into temptation and reopened the book to read.

In Percy's mind, he could see a girl about his age standing before him, beckoning for his touch.

With that mental note, he held up the bread. She stopped singing when she ate the bread. He opened his mouth and she fed him the toasted bread. Once again, she sang for him and took his hand, he followed her. By now he wanted to be with this creature as her voice caused his member to swell and harden with need.

Her voice softened and he could feel her breath upon his lips. Following the sound of her voice, his lips found hers. Her mouth was soft and she gasped and moaned his name. "What do I call you, wife?"

"Diana," she moaned.

Percy's hands came to land on Diana's shoulders. She was smaller than him, he discovered. He bent down seeking her lips and finding them he let his tongue sweep the seam of her mouth. Percy wanted to bed her; he wasn't sure his brother's lessons would apply. He let his instincts take over. His hands found the side knot of her toga and undid it. He pushed her simple gown out of the way.

He removed his toga and simple tunic. He heard her gasp at the sight of his naked form. He was aroused and he wondered if her kind only mated with humans. "Am I pleasing to you?"

"Yes."

Taking his hand, she led him to the bed. Once they were lying down, Percy waited for her to make a move. He felt her smaller hand on his chest. Percy captured her hand and brought her to him. He discovered her flesh was not scaly, it was soft. He could hear her small cries as his hands touched her body. She was formed like a human female, his hands traced the curve of her hip up to her arm to the swell of her breasts as they filled his hands. He kneaded the soft mounds the way he would a ball of dough. Her response to his touch excited him further. He wanted to see her, but couldn't. He was afraid that if he saw her the spell would be broken.

Percy leaned down and kissed Diana. She wound her arms around him. Her nails scratched down his back and the pain only increased his pleasure.

"Percy," she mewled when his hands went to the center of her femininity. He slipped past the thatch of hair and found she was as soft as a petal there, wet for him. His fingers found the soft bud at the center of her sex. She cried out as he rolled it in his fingers and squeezed. He felt her hips buck, a sign she was ready for him to enter her.

Lining himself up, he pushed himself inside of her welcoming heat. He slid in with no problems until he felt the barrier, and paused.

"Is something wrong?" Her voice sounded worried, "Do I displease you?"

"No," Percy said, "You're untouched?" He wondered if the women of her kind were virginal, only mating for life.

"Yes," her voice sounded far away, almost in pain.

As gently as he could he broke through the barrier, sliding easily within her tight channel. "Are you well?"

"Yes," she panted. Her fingers curled around his biceps, gripping tightly. Percy waited for her to adjust, to get used to his girth and intrusion. Once her fingers relaxed did he finally move slowly, and her soft moan let him know she was with him. "Tell me if you like something."

"Kiss me," she asked.

He kissed her, and their kiss grew wildly. Her hands scratched his back. Without his vision, he tried to pay attention to her non-verbal cues. The little noises she made, the way her legs tangled with his.

Percy was close; he felt that tingly sensation that came right before he released. He wanted her to come with him. As if on command, he felt her body flutter around him, squeezing him just as she cried out his name. Percy came and for several seconds he lay within her arms before moving.

Part of him wanted to see her, but he didn't dare look at her and he fell asleep. When he awoke the band around his eyes was gone. It was morning. His wife was not present, but his clothing was neatly folded on a chair. He could see the one-roomed cottage. There was no window, only a door, a small bench and table to the side, a fireplace, and the bed. On the table was a bowl of stew and a thick slice of bread.

The blood of her innocence was upon him. Percy wasn't sure what to make of it.

"Percy." The hunter Everdeen called right before he entered the cottage. "By the state of your being, I will not ask how your evening went."

Percy blushed, the man's eyes blazed.

"I have spoken to your wife," he said.

"You can see her?"

"I only said I spoke to her," Everdeen cut off.

"So what did she say?"

"She was pleased with the sacrifice you have made. As long as you follow the rules she will leave enough game for the village hunters. Each morning you will leave your home and return to your village, to your family. Each night you are to come back here to your wife. She will come to you at midnight. There must be no light in the room. Do you remember your promise?"

"I do."

"Good."

"I can see my family?"

"I told you she was happy," Everdeen said.

"Can you thank her for me," Percy said.

"You can thank her yourself tonight at midnight." Everdeen stood. "Remember, no light must be in here; you must not see her."

"I understand," Percy said. "Is there a river or creek-" he stopped speaking as Everdeen disappeared.

K-P-K-P-K

Katniss knew the ins and outs of sex. She'd been down that path on a drunken night with her fantasy man. But everything was awkward afterward. She didn't know how to speak to him after she'd slept with him and had given her virginity to him.

It took a long time for her to be able to speak to him, to become friends again. It was painful, but she couldn't quit him. Katniss found she was not built like most women who could have multiple partners. She wasn't a casual type. Sex meant a lot more to her and it frightened her.

She kept him at arm's length knowing she couldn't give him more than what happened. They were on better footing, but there were times that Katniss couldn't help but imagine them together again. Where she could smell his cinnamon and dill perfumed flesh. And her mouth would water at the warm spicy taste of his skin.

On those nights when her flesh was at a fevered pitch she was driven to seek her own pleasure. Reading this book caused her to think of him, of them together. The story was compelling and she wanted to know what would happen to the characters of the book.

Several weeks later Diana lay clutched to her beloved husband.

Percy slipped in and out of her tight channel; her nails dug into the flesh of his back. Diana cried out as her body convulsed around him. Her husband followed her shortly. For five months she lived blissfully with Percy.

Her father's arrow had made her fall madly in love with the mortal son of a baker. Diana had never wanted to marry, never wanted to fall in love, but because of her grandmother Venus, she had been hit with her father's arrows. Diana was unable to control the madness that was love. If not for her father's interference, she would have perished from the malady of unrequited love.

Her hands gently touched his neck as he became still.

Percy was terribly handsome and he was a fine specimen. Diana liked to gaze upon his naked form when he went to the river to wash. It was no wonder women fawned over him.

"Diana," Percy whispered her name as he slipped from her.

"Yes." Now came the part she most appreciated after the joining of their bodies; they always talked.

"I made something for you today."

In the darkened room, she could make out his silhouette walking to the table. He cursed when his foot bumped up against the bench. She hid her smile as he came back. "What is this?"

"I call it a cinnamon bun. I made a soft bread and lined its center with a mixture of cinnamon, candied ginger, and nutmeg."

Diana was shocked as she held the bread wrapped in cloth.

"Try it," Percy said.

Diana tasted the bread and found it delicious. Tears sprang to her eyes. "Thank you."

She felt Percy touch her chin, "Why are you crying?"

"Because no one other than my father has ever given me anything." Percy kissed her gently, but Diana didn't want a simple kiss; she was hungry for him. Her hands brought him back to the bed. Diana tried to give him everything he wanted. More determined to show him what his love meant to her.

K-P-K-P-K

Katniss sighed. The shift in the POV was a welcome change. Diana desperately wanted to please Percy after he made her the sweets. The book went on for several chapters with her endeavors. Showing how devoted both Percy and Diana were to each other.

Katniss' own lover was a baker, and he too had made her a special treat. Hers was savory. Cheese buns with goat cheese and herbs in the middle of the flakey bread. Katniss hadn't cried, but every time she ate one she couldn't help the groans and moans. It was the cheese buns that helped mend their relationship after they'd slept together.

Katniss understood the power of his gift. It was the same reason Diana had cried with Percy's gift. It was done to simply show that she was more to him than just a night spent in bed. That she held merit and value. Her hands curved into the pages of the book.

Katniss vowed she wouldn't fall in love. However, it didn't mean she didn't want Diana and Percy to fall in love. Her eyes trained where she'd left off.

Percy's arms tightened around Diana.

Three months after Percy made the treat, he was still shocked by her confession. Percy held Diana, she was expecting a baby. After eight months of marriage, it was only expected that they would make a baby. Percy had fallen for his faceless wife. His brothers kept on heckling him for his ugly, unseen wife. Percy didn't care, until tonight.

A baby.

He wondered what their child would look like. Would they look like him or would she come out like a creature? Percy needed to see her, see what she looked like for the sake of his child. Getting up, he expertly lit the fire. There on the bed was the most beautiful woman he had ever set eyes on. Her skin was kissed by the sun, her dark tresses were fanned out on the pillow, and her face took his breath away.

The room suddenly became illuminated by a stunning blond woman dressed in a flowing white gown, standing right in front of him.

"Who are you?" Percy was in awe of the woman

"I am the goddess of love." She looked imperiously at him, "You are quite a splendid creature, but a mortal. You will perish out of loneliness and no one shall appreciate your beauty over mine." She laughed. "You have broken the promise you made to Cupid and therefore I shall take your wife."

Percy wanted to stop Aphrodite, but he was frozen to his spot, unable to move. He watched, horrified as Aphrodite's attendants quickly gathered Diana and stole her away into the nothingness of the night. "No," Percy said quietly.

The old hunter broke the door. "Where is she?"

Aphrodite's laugh filled the room even as her image disappeared. "You will never win as long as I have Diana. If you can find a champion, you can have them sort the grain, bring me the fleece of a golden sheep, and face hell itself for the promise of beauty and life. Remember Cupid, you are forbidden from helping the mortal."

"No," Everdeen transformed himself into Cupid. His wings unfurled and his face became youthful. Diana looked like him. "She took my child, my only child."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have looked at her."

"I told you not to," Cupid roared.

"I'll get her back," Percy vowed. "I love her."

"You love her? I have not shot you with my arrow."

"It doesn't matter," Percy shook his head. "I was a goner from the moment I heard her sing. My own stupidity caused this. I will get her back."

"The tasks my mother has set are not easy for a mortal. I cannot help you either."

Percy glanced outside. Dressing quickly, he took with him a sword he found and some provisions. He didn't have to travel far because when he exited the town, Aphrodite knocked over a transport of different gains.

K-P-K-P-K

Katniss closed the book with tears in her eyes. As much as she hated romance, this one touched her heart and she decided to finish the story the next evening. She had to go to sleep.

Her dreams were filled with winged creatures that carried arrows and had her father's last name, and a blond baker who made her treats. As she went to bed Katniss didn't see the golden eyes staring down at her or the mischievous giggle that filled the air.

The gods had just landed.

[bunkernine]

hello!! i love ur evil trio au, and i’ve been wondering— what exactly are the found fam villain dynamics here? 👀

:D

If this is from the post from like 2 years ago, then know that it's evolved lololol. If this is from the fic then you'll see it eventually :)

Piper, Jason, Leo are besties no duh. Jason and Leo are more intimately tied because of their places in the prophecy and Piper's the most suspicious due to eventual charmspeak immunity... It's a natural split but of course, Piper and Leo still have wilderness tying them together, and Piper and Jason... Idk lol, nothing much yet :)

MEDEA

Piper doesn't care for Medea at all. Finds the woman untrustworthy and wants to ignore everything she says. Still, fears her because her powers are unknown. Piper also hates charmspeak too, and Medea's is so natural that she hates Medea. 🤔 On the flip side, Medea thinks Piper is a silly child but understands her role as Piper's main teacher :) She doesn't lie to any of the kids, and is well aware of Piper's distrust

There's an aside where Medea was Jane (Tristan's assistant) and this makes Piper falter, but idk, that's just such a funny thing to think about. Idk where I am with that

Jason trusts Medea the most. He doesn't really have a choice with charmspeak and her general mothering. Medea often thinks about Jason as her Jason (Argo Jason) and is a little sweet on him 🤔 As established, the only one she really calls by name

Leo and Medea don't interact much, but generally agreeable and trustworthy. Leo mostly listens to Piper's doubts and is like "ok sure, I don't trust her too but like, what's the other option?"

Medea kinda takes the place of Hedge? Or Chiron? She interacts with them the most

GAEA

Gaea is more tied to Leo than the others :) cuz duh prophecy, fated to kill her

Using the mirror technique in MoA (Gaea talks to Leo thru a bronze mirror) Gaea and Leo chat occasionally. I would say Gaea is more mothering to convince him, but Leo wouldn't care too much. He believes her though, because of how she presents her side of everything

Gaea and Piper don't talk much

Gaea and Jason don't talk much either

MELLIE!!!!!! 🥳💗

Stealing from my soul eater au with how Mellie operates. She and other nature spirits have little allegiance to either side, but they tend to lean to mother earth

She and Jason are the ones put together because she teaches him some air abilities!!!! :) She likes the kids very much and they all like her back :D

Piper DOES trust Mellie because of Mellie's neutrality. It's amusing to me because Mellie's answers to Piper's questions are usually more wishy-washy than Medea's 😭 But they are great!!!

😀 When the Lost Trio eventually head over to the other side (annabeth + co), Mellie follows them :) She is so helpful and awesome

Those are like, the 3 big ones 🤔 Their personal mentors and mothers and whatnot. Technically, Leo's mentors are Ma Gasket and the other cyclops, as Jason's was SUPPOSED to be Aeolus. Other ones I can think of:

Khione is there because... Idk for fun 😭 she and Piper bicker a lot. Sisters tho fr, through mutual dislike of Medea. She and Leo bicker a lot, general fire/ice dichotomy, it's not that deep. Jason doesn't like being around her, thinks she's too callous. All three of them think she's pretentious and snobby in general. Drew-esque

Cal and Z pop up again later to help train yeah. They're idiots. Cal and Leo are friends but Leo might just be making fun of him. Piper likes Cal but not Z. Jason doesn't give either of them his attention 😭

Midas + Lit are there, they just want to see the trio fight to the death all the time. Lit has this made up rivalry with Jason that Jason entertains but couldn't care less. Piper finds them funny but generally keeps away because Midas keeps forgetting he has the gold touch. Leo hates training, and thinks Lit is stuck up (he is)

Dylan is there. He's so Dylan like. He and Jason piss each other off, because Dylan thinks Jason doesn't deserve the attention, and Jason just thinks Dylan is an asshole. Leo and Dylan don't get along because Leo keeps pranking him with Cal + Z. Also Dylan keeps bringing up Wilderness memories. Piper has never liked Dylan and this won't change, but they have a mutual understanding

Hera is still trapped. None of the trio trust her when they meet 👍

Despite the fact that Piper is the most suspicious, she's also the one who leads things. Jason and Leo follow her. 🤔 Idk if this came from the soul eater au or just Nina's art but I like it 😂👍 Sometimes it feels like Piper is actually leading the story and the other two are doing mini games in the back 😭

Eventually Piper and Annabeth are at odds and then come to trust each other but that's WAYYYY down the line :) Reyna also plays into this :)

Medea and Mellie aren't fond of each other. They go back and forth about the kids sometimes, but ultimately the heir archy is still Mellie → Medea → Gaea. But also Medea and Khione aren't fond of each other, but that's because Medea thinks Khione is a brat

The "kids" is obviously the lost trio, but it also extends to Khione, Cal, Z, Lit, Dylan and other random people who come and go. The only ones that comes to mind rn is Clovis and Calypso, sorry 😭 Lit doesn't really mess with them too much tho, but he's there. On their occasional missions to loot the camps, it's usually the lost trio paired up with cal + z + dylan. They typically stick with the 3 members for a reason. Sometimes Khione goes but she rarely listens to the quest leader. Running gag and frustration that anytime they go out, she disappears halfway through. Plus she thinks she's too good for them 😭 debatable

Ultimately it is though, Mellie, Gaea, and Medea playing the biggest roles :) for the most part everything is like:

Medea: let's go shopping for new clothes

Jason + Leo: ok 👍

Piper: Why? 🤨 How can I trust you won't buy EVIL clothes? This feels fucked up. This is exactly like when you killed your kids. 😒 But if you're paying 🙄 I guess I'll go. I don't want any TRICKS though. You EVIL woman

Vs

Mellie: let's go rob some people

Jason + Piper + Leo: ok miss mellie 🥰

While in the back it's like,

Khione: 🤨 and why would EYE, a PRINCESS, do that peasant stuff

Cal: 😆 I will kill! It is fun!

Z: (I don't know what z would say I don't think about Z 😭 I don't care for him)

Lit: Tch. Stupid kids. (Does in fact go shopping)

Dylan: (just arguing with khione and glaring at jason who is ignoring it)

Hope that explains what ur asking for :)

[raindancer2004]

Interference

Word Count: 2,074 Alec x reader Oneshot Warnings: Fluff, Angst

Possessive Prompt: Can you do 24 and 26 from the possessive list for Alec Volturi (aged up of course)

Your blog is like that best thing since sliced bread!  For @hiddlebatchship​

Y/N met Alec when he came to Forks with Jane, Demetri and Aro to visit the Cullens. It was a surprise when they entered the Cullen house to find the Stefan and Vladimir sitting in the family room with two humans sitting in between them.

“What a lovely surprise, so nice to see you again” Aro said in that sickly sweet tone of his “Aro” Vladimir and Stefan reply. “So are you going to introduce me to your…friends” Aro asked nodding to the two humans “Aro, this is Molly, my mate. Molly this is Aro, one of the three Kings of our world” Stefan replied pointing to the brunette woman on his left “It’s nice to meet your Aro” Molly says “Likewise” Aro replies “This is Y/N, Molly’s daughter” Stefan added, pointing to Y/N. Aro and Y/N exchanged greetings before his attention returned to Stefan “I trust that they will be turned sooner rather than later” Aro mused “Of course Aro. Molly is to be turned first next month and Y/N will be turned in just over a year, giving Molly the ability to see out her newborn year before we add another newborn to our family” Stefan replied.

Alec growled loudly hearing that Y/N was to be turned by Stefan and would be an addition to his coven. This drew the attention of everyone in the room, Y/N and her mum included. Edward sat there smirking as he had read Alec’s thoughts as the conversation unfolded and was curious how things would play out.

“NOONE is turning Y/N but ME!” Alec’s voice was loud in the quiet room. Demetri couldn’t help but smirk when he saw the looks of realisation on the Romanian vampire’s faces. “She is not joining your coven. I forbid it” Stefan says moving to stand in front of Y/N. Alec growled again “You can’t forbid me from being with my mate” Alec said defiantly.

Y/N sat there shocked trying to take everything in that was being said around her. “Sorry can someone explain what’s going on please?” She asked still feeling confused “You are my mate Y/N just as your mother is Stefan’s” Alec answered her calmly “What does that mean for me…for us?” She asked looking around Stefan to look at Alec. “NOTHING. IT means NOTHING” Stefan answered her before Alec could, Alec growled “YOU don’t get to decide that.”

Jane focused her attention on Stefan, a smirk on her face as he dropped to his knees in pain. Molly looked horrified at seeing Jane’s gift in action, more so because it was being used on her mate.

“Y/N my dear please come and stand beside Alec” Aro’s voice held a sickly sweet but firm tone, one the guards knew all too well, it’s the tone that invites no argument. Y/N nodded and slowly stood and moved to stand by Alec and Demetri stepped closer to her so she was safe between the two vampires.

“Jane” Aro said simply and Jane broke eye contact with Stefan and he fell forward growling “Master.”

“Please don’t take my daughter” Molly said looking at Aro and Alec “Y/N is my mate and she belongs with me…” Molly shook her head “No…” “How would you like it if someone kept you from Stefan?” Aro asked “I-I…th-that’s not the point” She replied “IT’S EXACTLY THE POINT” Aro shouted, starting to loose his calm demeanour and Molly flinched “If you wish to keep your daughter from being with Alec, then I will separate you from Stefan and see how long you last being away from your mate” Aro responded, his eyes darkened by anger. “NO!” Stefan roared “QUIET!” Aro roared back “You have two options, one; you let Y/N come home with Alec or two; Molly comes back with us and stays there until you both allow Y/N to be with her mate” Aro’s voice was calmer now but the look on his face told the room he was serious.

“You can’t do that. You can’t take my mate from me…” “Why not? You’re trying to keep Alec’s mate from him” Demetri cut Stefan off and took a step towards him. Stefan let out a growl and Demetri growled back and crouched ready to attack if necessary. Alec gently pushed Y/N back a little so she was shielded by himself and Demetri.

“Stefan, Molly let Y/N go with Alec. They’re mates, it would be wrong to separate them” Carlisle tried to reason with him. “But Carlisle…” “No Stefan, you know Aro is right. You also know that Alec will love and protect her forever” Carlisle cut him off and gave him a knowing look and Stefan nodded.

Stefan and Molly reluctantly let Y/N go to Volterra with Alec to be part of the Volturi. Y/N was ok with leaving with Alec, in fact she was looking forward to living in the castle with the one person who would love and protect her forever. Alec was looking forward to getting to know his mate.

Things between Y/N and Alec were great at first but that changed when he discovered emails from Molly and Stefan trying to convince Y/N to leave him and return home to them. He didn’t let her know he knew about the emails at first wanting to see what she would do, how she would deal with them. Y/N replied to the emails telling them she was happy with Alec and wanted them to stay away before they anger him and Aro again.

Alec was pleased with how Y/N dealt with the emails from her mother and Stefan and was enjoying having her around, having someone that he could love and that could love him in return. However, Alec still felt unsure about whether he could trust her to stay with him, given the outside interference.

Y/N ignored the emails after a while and that was when the letters began arriving at the castle. She opened the first one but wished she hadn’t when she saw what was written, they were begging her to leave him and come home to them. Y/N threw the letter into the fire without responding to it. Each time she got a new letter from them she threw it on the fire without opening it as she wasn’t interested in leaving Alec, she was happy with him.

One afternoon Alec caught sight of a letter in Y/N’s hand “What’s that?” He asked “It’s just a letter, it’s not important” She went to throw the letter on the fire but a cold wrist on her arm stopped her “Why are you throwing the letter into the fire?” “It’s not important Alec, really” She replied “Then why would you try and burn it?” “Because I’m happy with you and I don’t want you or Aro to think otherwise” Alec growled in response and grabbed the letter, ripping it open. He read the letter and growled again.

“Maybe if I mark you, other people wouldn’t be such a nuisance” Alec spat out angrily “What do you mean mark me?” Y/N asked, confusion written across her face “I mean if I bite you, you will wear my mark…people will know you’re mine” He replied “B-but th-that’ll turn m-me” She stuttered and tried to back away from him but he grabbed her wrist again “It won’t turn you as I won’t allow any of my venom to enter your system but if marking you doesn’t work, I will turn you…our timeline be damned” He told her as he pinned her to her against the closed bathroom door and she nodded, a look of fear showing in her eyes. “Don’t be scared sweetheart, this won’t hurt. I promise” He let his mist surround her, taking away all of her senses as he bit into her neck. He swallowed a few mouthfuls of blood, enjoying the taste of her, the fear and panic making it taste a little sweeter. He licked the wound closed and slowly gave her senses back to her, holding her close as she began to sob. “Noone will dare interfere now…unless they have a death wish” His voice low as he stroked her hair trying to soothe her.

Alec took a picture of his mark whilst she slept and emailed it to Molly letting her know that Y/N now held his mark and that they were happy together and that she and Stefan should stop interfering in their relationship or there would be consequences.

Stefan and Molly did not give up trying to free Y/N from the clutches of the Volturi or more specifically…Alec. They stayed just outside the city and would only enter it when they knew Y/N was away from the castle. Molly had turned on the ‘Find Friends’ feature on her phone and it told her where Y/N was, whether it be inside the castle or outside in the city.

They approached her one afternoon when she went for a walk in the city, the idea being to grab her and take her home with them. Stefan grabbed her arm and she screamed “Sshh it’s just me. It’s me” He said trying to get her to calm down “Wh-what are y-you doing?” “Taking you home, where you belong” “Home? I live at the castle with Alec, where I belong” She replied but Stefan wrapped one arm around her waist and covered her mouth with his other hand. He was about to run off with her when he heard a loud growl behind him, he spun around to come face to face with Felix. “You may want to put her down before I make you” Stefan scoffed at him and made no attempt to release Y/N. Felix held Stefan’s attention as Demetri quickly approached from behind and snapped his neck, leaving his head laying on the ground. Demetri’s actions caused Y/N to fall forward as Stefan’s body dropped to the ground. Felix rushed to catch her before she hit the ground too “I’ve got you little one. I’ve got you” Y/N nodded and leant against him as she steadied herself.

Demetri took Y/N to her and Alec’s shared room and stayed with her whilst Felix went to find Alec and inform him of what happened. Alec was furious when he found out what happened and stormed up to his room, the door slamming into the wall as he entered. Demetri left the room nodding at Alec as he passed him.

“As of now you don’t leave this room without me and you don’t leave the castle unless I say so. Understand?” “But…but I didn’t do anything. I-I told him that I belong here with you. I keep telling them I belong with you” “Well they aren’t listening to you so maybe I have to send them a message. One they will understand” He replied, punctuating certain words to get his point across. Y/N could tell this latest interference from her mother and Stefan had pissed Alec off and she knew there’d be consequences but she wasn’t prepared for what they would be.

Y/N was sitting on the floor of the bathroom sobbing, she hadn’t seen the outside of her and Alec’s shared room for over two weeks. Alec opened the bathroom door and she looked up at him, tear tracks running down her cheeks “How would you feel about a collar? You’d look so pretty all chained up” Alec said looking down at her with a collar in one hand and chain in the other “Wh-what?” “This way I can make sure noone can take you from me” He said as he let his mist surround her, her senses leaving her as he approached her and lent down to put the collar around her neck. He attached the chain to the front of the collar and lifted her into his arms.

He set her down in the corner of the walk-in closet and linked the chain to the large metal ring he had gotten installed on the closet wall. He took out his phone and took a picture to email to Y/N’s mother later and then gave Y/N back her senses and saw the fear and confusion in her eyes. “Wh-why?” “I’m fed up of others interfering. This way I know where you are until I decide when to turn you. Noone will get a chance to steal you away from me now” He replied and kissed her hair before walking away, leaving her alone in the closet.

[mianavs]

half agony, half hope

“you pierce my soul. i am half agony, half hope.” - jane austen

Oikawa x f!reader, regency!au, angst, romance, hurt/comfort

for @sakeomi​’s the chosen one collab

a/n: fueled by my love for jane austen and a bridgerton binge. some regency/nobility jargon but nothing too fancy. hope you like it :)

a huuuuge thank you to @tetsunormous​ for taking the time to look this over. you’re a gem!

wc: 9k+

Peering out the small window of your family’s carriage, you couldn’t help but scowl at the ridiculously nice weather you were having en route back to the ton. The weather had also been lovely the day you left society which you took as an affirmation that you’d made the right decision in leaving. Now, you didn’t feel that same hopeful sentiment you did back then and had hoped lousy weather would delay your return, but it seemed that your luck with the weather had run out.

The sun shone brightly and was accompanied by the perfect amount of white fluffy clouds amidst a beautiful blue sky. There was a light breeze that kept your bonneted head cool enough to prevent beads of sweat from trailing down your brow, and you were also positive that Henry, your footman, was enjoying the mild weather outside on his box seat as he escorted you from your family’s country estate back to town.

You drew back the small curtain and leaned back onto your cushioned seat before picking up the stack of letters beside you and thumbing through them until you found the first of many unopened ones. Setting aside the others—all mostly from your father demanding your return—you examined all twelve letters that bore an unbroken turquoise seal and were addressed to you from Toru Oikawa. They all had a date scribbled on the bottom right corner, with the first one dating back to six months after you left town. You successfully fought off the urge to open the letters and piled them up with the others before putting them away in a wooden box—a present from your late mother.

 It was hard to believe that a year had passed since you begged your father to let you retire to the country after witnessing an immoral scene no respectable person should ever witness—let alone the fiancée of one of the perpetrators. Looking back, you could firmly say it wasn’t the shame that drove you to abandon society and your fiancé but the heart-wrenching agony you felt from seeing the man you loved with another woman.

While love matches were a rare thing between members of the aristocracy, you had truly believed yours to be one of them, and it all started from the moment you first beheld Toru.

It had been the annual debutante ball hosted by the monarchy, and you, along with a dozen other seventeen-year-old ladies, were making your debut into society. The ball was strictly for the aristocracy only, and, as a result, only members of the nobility were able to mingle with each other.

While on the surface, it was meant to start the matchmaking season by introducing the newest line-up of ladies to the ton’s eligible bachelors and their mothers, there were other activities taking place simultaneously. Racy affairs took place under a cover of darkness in hidden corners or outside in the gardens, and business deals of all sorts were struck up in gambling rooms between men as they dealt cards and downed glasses of brandy.

Of course, being the naïve debutante that you were, thoughts on the covert activities taking place were beyond you. All you could think about was keeping your head held high, back straight, and minding your step as you walked to the dais where the royal family sat, to not trip over the hem of your new silk ball gown.

After a satisfactory curtsy and subtle nods from the King and Queen, you took your place next to your father, the Count. The butterflies in your stomach settled as you watched the debutantes with better curtsies, looks, and family backgrounds get asked to dance by eligible young men. After a couple of songs, apprehension ate away at your calm demeanor as you wondered if standing at the sidelines in the balls to come would be your fate. Beside you, the Count shifted uncomfortably, and you took notice of his knitted brows as he scanned the room for someone before excusing himself and disappearing into the crowd.

Just when you’d resigned yourself to a dance-less evening and twiddled with your dance card, a pair of black boots stood before you and captured your attention. You looked up to find yourself face to face with the man that would become your fiancé—Toru Oikawa, the Duke of Seijoh.

He was everything a young man should’ve been and more. He was effortlessly charming and handsome with his velvety brown eyes that remained fixed on you throughout that evening, tousled brown locks that added to his boyish looks, and a roguish smile that never failed to take your breath away.

Toru remained by your side that entire evening. The two of you spent half of the evening dancing and the other half talking about your interests and hobbies. It didn’t take much for an innocent girl like you to fall for the first man that spared you any attention, so by the end of the evening, when Toru placed a gentle kiss on your gloved hand, you were already half in love with the man.

Toru spent a considerable amount of time wooing you during those two months prior to your engagement in your defense. He called upon your home at least three times a week, during which the two of you split your time in your drawing room conversing over tea, admiring your estate’s gardens, or promenading through the town.

It was during those times that you realized just how popular your suitor was simply from the jealous stares that ladies would send your way. At first, it was easy to ignore them, but as time went on and they grew bolder in their actions, you often found yourself biting back tears during assemblies or rejecting tea invitations to avoid subjecting yourself to their snipes.

While being the object of the Duke of Seijoh’s interest did ostracize you from the other ladies, you found that it was worth it as long as Toru’s charming smiles and warm words continued to fill your dull life with love. That was the belief you held onto up until that fateful morning when Toru arrived with flowers and an engagement ring before getting down on one knee. Besides your initial meeting at the debutante ball, the day of your engagement was the happiest day of your life, made even more special by one of the Count’s rare smiles and an albeit awkward embrace.

Unlike the fantasy you had already concocted in your mind, the reality of your engagement was disheartening to say the least. Toru stopped visiting your home altogether and avoided you at balls and other social events. While you hid away in corners, sipped on a glass of port, and made-up excuses for him, Toru fluttered about the assembly rooms chattering away with friends and dancing with ladies that never failed to mock you afterwards.

During those rare occasions when he graced you with his presence, any complaints you took up with Toru were shot down as petty jealousy. His smile would disappear from his handsome face, and his eyebrows would knit together as if you were submitting him to a torture session by just speaking with him.

“What other proof of my love do you need?” He would ask and raise your ring-clad hand for effect. “You will be my duchess and the mother of my children. That is all that should matter to you.”

You spent the majority of the fall and winter seasons planning for your wedding with only the guidance of the Marchioness of Niiyama. She had been widowed at the young age of twenty and had inherited her husband’s title, but above all, she was Toru’s childhood friend. While you found the Marchioness witty and extremely helpful when it came to wedding planning and understanding Toru, you found yourself missing your deceased mother more than ever and wondered what sort of advice she would give regarding your relationship.

The only time you saw Toru was during the Christmas celebrations and official events where the two of you were expected to attend as a couple. Other than that, you didn’t see or hear from your fiancé and spent your days wondering what went wrong while ignoring the conclusion you came to every time.

Those thoughts would continue to plague your mind until the last ball of the spring season when you decided to take a stroll in the gardens only to find Toru and the person that had been your confidante over the last couple of months—the Marchioness. Her long willowy arms were wrapped around Toru’s frame with her gloved fingers tangled in his brown locks as the two shared a lover’s kiss.

The sight was like falling into frigid waters. A numbness washed over, and you stood frozen in place while the air around you thickened until you couldn’t breathe. There was a disconnect between your body that remained still and your mind that was full of screaming thoughts demanding you move, confront them, or leave the premises altogether. It wasn’t until you locked eyes with the marchioness that the spell you were under broke, and you fled the scene with hot tears stinging your eyes.

That night was the first time you cried in front of your father since the death of your mother. It was also the first time you personally asked him for anything and, to your surprise, he acquiesced.

For the remainder of that night, the house was abuzz in preparation for your departure at dawn. You also didn’t sleep a wink that night and instead gathered all of the letters, dresses, bonnets, and gloves Toru sent and tossed them into the fire. With swollen eyes and still in your ball gown, you sat in front of the fire and watched the items you once treasured burn until the flames died out and only ashes were left.

In the end, you left for your family’s country estate before the rays of the sun peeked over the horizon but not before taking off the ring on your left hand’s fourth finger and leaving it on the windowsill of your bedchamber.

“Apologies for the delay, my lady, but we’ll be arriving in the evening.” Henry called out to you from his seat at the front.

“Thank you for letting me know, Henry.” You replied and continued to flip through the documents you’d prepared prior to leaving your country estate.

When your sorrow turned into indignation, you decided to do everything in your power to put an end to your engagement. What started as a simple letter asking your father to end things with Toru on your behalf snowballed into endless hours of research and lessons on all matters relating to your family’s properties, business ventures, and finances. The catalyst? Your father’s curt reply explaining the details of your engagement contract.

The engagement also includes a business deal the duke struck up with me that will save us from ruin. It cannot be broken off simply because you’ve fallen out of love with him. Stop this nonsense and come home immediately.

Your Father,

Now a year later, you returned with a vast amount of knowledge on your family’s businesses and the large debt accumulated from decades of bad business moves. It was a sheer miracle your family hadn’t lost your properties yet, and it was easy to see why your father had readily agreed to an engagement with someone as powerful as Toru Oikawa.

He had offered your father enough money to settle your family’s debts and then some to invest back into Seijoh’s multiple businesses. While it was a fair enough deal on the surface, you couldn’t help but wonder why Toru had chosen you. If it was purely to find a wife and gain a life-long investor, there were plenty of other families in dire situations with daughters of marriageable age that would’ve fit the bill. Whatever his reasoning, you made it your mission to find out during your inevitable encounter with him.

The tired whinny of the horses woke you from your slumber to an almost pitch-black carriage. Henry rustled outside while you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and straightened your bonnet. The door opened a moment later, and your footman greeted you with a weary smile and an extended hand.

“Welcome home, my lady.”

You took his hand and stepped down in front of your family’s estate, illuminated for the night. Although smaller than your family’s country estate, the imposing white stone building had been your family’s ancestral seat for generations and held memories that you either held near and dear to your heart or buried in the darkest corners of your mind.

“Rest well, Henry.” You said and gave your footman a small smile. “You’ve worked hard.”

“Thank you, my lady,” Henry replied with a low bow before returning to the carriage.

Turning to face your home, the front doors opened, and a blanket of light from home illuminated the pathway before you. Almost immediately, a flurry of maids exited the building and made their way to you, wearing sheepish looks and emitting a cacophony of apologies for not greeting you properly. Walking into your home surrounded by bustling maids and butlers carrying your luggage, you took a deep breath and braced yourself for the mess that awaited you.

While a year ago, the sight of hundreds of lilacs would have brought tears of joy to your eyes, the pungent fragrance of your favorite flower that filled your bedroom made you nauseous the longer you remained. You raised a handkerchief to your face and picked up one of the dozens of turquoise name cards attached to the bouquets that, sure enough, had Toru Oikawa printed in gold.

Crumpling the name card, you turned to your maids. “Get these out of my sight. The smell is making me ill.”

The maids exchanged a confused look before one of them spoke up. “But, my lady, His Grace delivered these himself—”

“I’m well aware of that fact,” you replied, tossing the crumpled name card onto a bouquet. “But I still want them taken out immediately.”

“Y-yes, my lady, right away!”

As the maids went to work, a knock on the door caught your attention, and you found the head butler standing at the door. The sight was one you were accustomed to and, wordlessly, you approached the elder man already knowing what he’d say.

“Greetings, my lady. I hope your trip wasn’t too tiring.” He said with a slight bow

“I’m assuming father wants to see me?” You replied curtly.

“Yes, Lord L/N is waiting for you in his study. Please, allow me to escort you there.”

“There is no need for that. I will see myself there.” Noticing the weary look on his wrinkled face, you softened your tone. “You may retire for the night.”

After dismissing the butler and removing your travel coat and bonnet, you made your way to your father’s study on the other side of the manor. Standing outside the study, you straightened your dress and took a deep breath before knocking once on the large mahogany door.

“Come in,” a low voice rumbled from the other side, and you opened the double doors to reunite with your father.

The Count sat at a table instead of his desk and upon closer inspection, you noticed the array of pastries accompanied by a teapot and two cups. The refreshments caught you off guard, and you stood awkwardly trying to process the situation that was unlike any of the other meetings with your father.

While you were sure some fathers excessively doted on their daughters, the Count wasn’t one of them and only grew more distant after the death of your mother. He either remained locked away in his study or went on business trips. Family dinners happened only once a month, and even then, they were stiff affairs with him asking about your education and you replying with short answers. The only semblance of affection from him came in the form of gifts with short notes delivered to you by the head butler. It was in those notes that your father would awkwardly convey his affection by congratulating you on an academic achievement or wishing you a happy birthday.

“Sit, Y/N,” the Count stated gesturing to the chair across from him. “I had them prepare this fresh for your arrival.”

“Thank you,” you replied and took a seat, settling your hands on your lap.

The Count took a sip from his cup, and when you didn’t partake of the food, he let out an exasperated sigh.

“Must you make things so complicated from the get-go?”

Any fondness you felt at the sight of your father and the display he prepared for you dissipated the moment he uttered those disgruntled words.

“I apologize if my wanting of a respectful husband complicates things for you.”

Your thinly veiled anger was somewhat of a shock to your father, who had never been on the receiving end of it. He cleared his throat and replaced his surprise with a look of disapproval.

“Whatever happened a year ago, I am certain that Oikawa has thoroughly repented. He’s been visiting me over the past six months for news of you since you never replied to his letters. He even spent the entire day waiting for your return.”

Your heart clenched painfully in your chest while a harsh, derisive laugh ripped from your throat. “Yes, I’m sure the lucrative deal the two of you made had absolutely nothing to do with his visits. Tell me, father, how much more did he offer you?”

The Count averted his gaze and lightly shook his head. “You’ve changed so much I hardly recognize you. Was his transgression so great to turn you into this?”

“I doubt whatever I say will change your mind on the matter.” You replied coldly and took a bite from a cookie. “I just hope whatever he offered didn’t affect our agreement.”

He took another sip from his tea and fixed his gaze on you, his own face undecipherable. You steeled your resolve under his scrutiny and held your breath waiting for his answer.

“If you can find another alternative, be it via marriage or not, that will provide our family with the funds needed to get us back on our feet, I will do everything in my power to annul the engagement.”

You exhaled. “Thank y-”

“But you must receive him when he comes tomorrow,” the Count concluded, setting down his teacup.

You finished your cookie and stood up. “I already planned on it. Thank you for the dessert. I shall take my leave now.”

The Count nodded his approval and you sank into a curtsey before turning your heel and leaving your father’s study. Once outside, you leaned back against the large double doors, relishing your small victory against your father.

Despite being completely worn out from the trip, you tossed and turned in bed only managing a couple hours of sleep as thoughts of Toru filled your mind. While it was relatively easy to occupy your mind with other things during the day, he was a constant figure in your head at night that  always invaded your dreams.

Toru Oikawa still resided within your heart, whether you chose to admit it or not, and your father’s revelation of his visits during your time away proved it. It had been a fleeting sensation but your heart had wavered in that moment.

By the time the sun rose over the horizon, you had already bathed, dressed, and sat on your room’s balcony nibbling on a plate of fruit. It was all you could stomach while you waited for Toru’s impending arrival.

“Would you like me to style your hair, my lady?” The outspoken maid from the day before inquired hesitantly.

Raising a hand to your hair, you considered her suggestion for a moment before deciding against it. A year ago, you would have spent all morning primping for Toru’s visit, but the situation was different now, and there was no need for elaborate hairstyles.

“That won’t be necessary.”

You’d just finished your breakfast when you heard the faint whinnies of a horse that only grew louder. Rising from your seat, you were able to make out a male figure on horseback wearing a navy-blue tailcoat that approached your home. As the gentleman drew closer, his wind-swept brown hair came to view, and that was all you needed to verify his identity.

You wrung the cloth napkin in your hands before dropping it on your plate. “It seems we have a visitor to greet.”

The reunion between you and Toru was one that you’d played out in your mind many times over the course of the year. You’d memorized impassioned speeches and even practiced storming out of the room, yet nothing could have prepared you for the torrent of emotions that washed over you the moment you stepped into the drawing room where Toru waited.

He was on his feet as soon as you entered, tugging on his silver waistcoat as his eyes swept over your form. It had only been a year yet Toru seemed to have aged five. While still handsome, his boyish looks were gone and replaced with a weariness beyond his twenty-three years. Instead of the air of confidence he once gave off, the Toru before you appeared hesitant and—dare you say it—ashamed.

It wasn’t until his brown eyes locked onto yours that a glimmer of the light that used to radiate within his orbs appeared, and you felt your legs tremble with every step you took. A ragged breath left his lips that broke into a hesitant smile before he took a step forward that turned into another until he was able to take you into his arms.

“My love,” he breathed into the crook of your neck. “You’re back.”

You couldn’t breathe or move, as he tightened his hold around you. All you could do was stand there and feel every shallow breath he took as his entire body trembled against yours. He held you with a desperation that made your chest tighten and throat close up.

“I-I thought I lost you, Y/N,” Toru murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I swear to you that I’ll do everything in my power to make it all up. I’ll make you the happiest woman alive and you’ll never regret giving me this second chance. Oh, my love, I’m so happy you’re back that-”

Every word he spoke was like a needle poking and prodding at you until the pain became too much and you broke free from the trance you were in. A snarl ripped through your throat and you pushed Toru away with all of your strength.

“Let. Go!”

He stumbled backwards, steadying himself with a chair, and looked back at you as if you’d struck him across the face instead of breaking free from his suffocating hold. For a moment, you almost felt guilty for rejecting him when you saw the distress in his eyes, but the memory of his betrayal resurfaced and anger took ahold of you once more.

“You’re gravely mistaken if you think I have forgiven you, Your Grace. You and the Marchioness have shamed me in the worst possible way and I refuse to submit myself to a life of misery by your side. If I am meeting you today, it is only to put an end to this engagement. I’m sure you and your lover can find another girl to fool.”

Your voice quivered and tears stung your eyes, but you kept your head held high as the words tumbled out of your mouth like water bursting from a dam.

The color drained from Toru’s face as he stared at you aghast. His mouth opened and closed a multitude of times before it settled into a thin line. He tore his eyes from you, running a hand through his hair before a defeated sigh escaped him.

“You didn’t read my letters, did you?” He asked, facing you once again with the gleam of unshed tears in his eyes.

Your throat constricted painfully but you answered him anyway. “No, I didn’t and I refuse to do so. I’ve had enough of your lies and false proclamations of love-”

“I do love you!”

Toru’s declaration came out hurried, ragged, and desperate. It reverberated off the walls of the drawing room and echoed in your ears eliciting a shallow gasp from your trembling lips.

“I fell in love with you over the course of our courtship.” He admitted, gripping the back of the chair until his knuckles turned white. “It wasn’t what I expected. You...weren’t what I expected. Before I knew it, I found myself wanting to be by your side. You’re so beautiful, intelligent, and devoted and the moments I spent with you were the happiest I’d ever been in my entire life.”

“Why me?” You asked the question that had been on your mind for months, unable to wait any longer. “Why did you pick me?”

Toru’s shoulder’s drooped and dejection replaced desperation. “Your father’s title, your family name that is as old as the royal family itself, and your financial situation were all factors that singled you out as the best candidate.”

“Did…the Marchioness have any say in the matter?” Your voice was so quiet it wouldn’t have surprised you if he hadn’t heard it at all. There was a long silence and all you could hear was the drumming of your heart against your chest. Just when you were about to repeat the question, Toru spoke.

“She was the one that brought up your name.”

His words were like a slap to your face.

“Leave! At once! I cannot stand being in the same room with you.” You glared daggers at the man not caring if he was a duke and you the daughter of a mere count.

“Please allow me to explain the situation! It’s not what you think—”

“There is nothing to explain, Your Grace. Our relationship is over and if you don’t annul our engagement then I will find a way to do it myself.”

Your threat washed away the obstinacy in Toru’s eyes and a haunting hollow look glossed over them. His hand released the chair he’d been holding onto for the majority of your encounter, and he dragged his feet towards the door.

He surprised you by stopping beside you, and for a moment, you believed he would take you into his arms once again and beg you to forgive him. Only, he didn’t.

“Read the letters I sent you. They contain everything I’ve ever wanted to tell you. Only then will I agree to put an end to our engagement.”

His words haunted you throughout the day up until the evening when you sat at your desk and traced the turquoise seal on one of Toru’s letters. It would have been so easy to break the seals and read through the letters but the thought of falling prey to his pretty words stopped you.

The following morning, the plan to end your engagement and save your family from ruin started with a package from the investigator you hired back in the country. Within it you pulled out pages and pages of information on all of the families of the aristocracy. The reports included the names and ages of the members, the business endeavors of each of the families, and the properties they owned. Other details were also included like their financial status, list of acquaintances, and town gossip.

Over the course of a week, you were able to go through each report and compile a list of potential families you could strike up a deal with. The longer you delved into the background of every family on that list, the shorter said list became until one last name stood out amongst the rest—Kageyama.

According to the report, Viscount Kageyama had been successful in his business endeavors over the last couple of years and it was all thanks to his prodigal son. At the young age of twenty-one, Tobio Kageyama was racking up accomplishments left and right with no sign of slowing down. With a military background like his father, he was an excellent athlete and hunter and won almost all of the competitions he participated in. It was his eye for business ventures and investments, however, that caught your attention and made him a possible marriage candidate.

Over the past three years, he’d managed to turn his family’s failing businesses into prosperous ones and used those profits to invest in other groundbreaking ventures. That was the sort of advice you and your father needed to turn your debts into profits and it just so happened that Tobio wasn’t engaged to anyone.

You found that odd.

For a young man of his age with an acceptable family background and a natural talent for business to be without a fiancée was unheard of. The mothers of society would never let a man like him slip past their radars so you sought to find out why.

Rummaging through his family’s report, you searched for the list of acquaintances hoping to find a mutual one that might give you more information on him. Your eyes stopped on a last name that you’d recognized from an invitation to a tea party that would take place in two days’ time.

Turning away from the document, you called out to the outspoken maid that always seemed to be in the room when you needed her. “What is your name?”

“It is Akane, my lady.” She replied with a deep curtsey. “How can I be of service?”

You smiled, thoroughly pleased with how quick-witted she was. “Send word to the Yachi estate letting them know I will be attending Lady Hitoka’s tea party.”

Akane’s eyes flitted to the table then back to you before a small smile played on her lips. “Right away, my lady.”

Hitoka Yachi was somewhat of an outcast in polite society despite her caring and gentle personality. Her mother was an outspoken countess in her own right that had married for love and, and as a result, Hitoka was an heiress—something that was frowned upon by most. The two of you had bonded over the fact that you both had lost a parent at a young age; she had lost her father and you’d lost your mother.

Over the course of the year, you’d exchanged a letter here and there with Hitoka, and she’d been kind enough to reach out when you returned. While you initially hadn’t planned on attending social events until you’d broken your engagement, you figured rekindling your relationship with Hitoka while garnering information on her friend, Tobio, wouldn’t be too bad.

The day of the tea party, you dressed in a simple cotton dress with small flowers printed on the fabric and had Akane sweep your hair into a simple updo. Since the death of your mother, maids had come and gone under the head maid’s strict supervision, but none of them had stood out like Akane. You found her a smart and observant girl that worked as your eyes and ears around the estate. For that reason, you decided to keep her close and had her accompany you during your outing.

The Yachi’s manor was located in the outskirts of town and gave off the appearance of a large country home while less than an hour away from town. It was a beautiful home surrounded by gardens that, in the spring, bloomed exquisite flowers of all shapes, shades, and sizes.

You were escorted to the rose garden by one of the manor’s butlers where Hitoka and another young woman were already seated at a table filled to the edge with pastries, bite-sized sandwiches, fruits, and a porcelain teapot with matching cups and saucers.

“Y/N!” Hitoka exclaimed and leapt to feet and took your hands into hers. “Oh, it’s been far too long!”

“It’s nice to see you again, Hitoka,” you replied earnestly. “Thank you for your wonderful letters this past year. They were a great comfort to me.”

A pretty blush dusted her cheeks. “I’m glad my silly letters had such a wonderful effect.”

She drew you to the table where her other guest was standing by. Upon closer inspection, the young woman’s distinct black shining hair and stormy blue eyes triggered your memory and her name resurfaced just as Hitoka introduced you.

“Kiyoko, this Y/N L/N.” Hitoka said, gesturing to you. “Y/N, this is Kiyoko Sawamura.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Kiyoko.”

“Likewise, Lady Y/N.” She replied, her voice quiet but firm.

The three of you took your seats and Hitoka took the lead in the conversation cluing you in on what they’d been discussing. You caught a couple of words here and there but your main focus was on the woman to your left.

Three years ago at her debut, Kiyoko Sawamura had been declared a diamond of the first water by the Queen herself and had caused quite a stir amongst all of the eligible bachelors at the time. As the only daughter of the Duke of Karasuno, not only was she stunningly gorgeous but she came from a noble family whose wealth and power surpassed even that of the Oikawa’s. Her engagement to Yuji Terushima, heir to the Marquess of Johzenji, had been the announcement of the year—at least until the annulment three months later.

Rumors ran rampant that summer over what had actually happened but they all lead back to a cheating scandal involving Yuji and a maid from his household. Of course, Kiyoko faced the brunt of the ordeal since Yuji fled society like a coward along with his maid who ended up pregnant with his child, but she never succumbed to the pressure and kept her head held high with the support of her family. The last piece of gossip you’d heard regarding Kiyoko was that she’d found love with the son of Baron Tanaka.

To say you admired the woman was an understatement; she was everything you wanted to be but never could. Where she had braved society, you had fled to the country for a year like a coward.

Hitoka’s cheery voice broke through your cloud of dark thoughts. “…he’s been trying to get Tobio to attend more social events for the past two years, and he finally succeeded! Tobio will be attending Viscount Udai’s ball this Saturday.”

“I told you if anyone would be able to convince him it would be Shoyo. After all, they are best friends whether they admit it or not,” Kiyoko replied before taking a sip of her tea.

“Tobio Kageyama will be attending a ball?” You muttered, mostly to yourself but Hitoka heard you and responded.

“Yes! Are you acquainted with him, Y/N?”

“No, I am not,” you admitted sheepishly and made up an excuse on the spot. “My father mentioned him the other day and spoke of his achievements.”

“He is very talented when it comes to making money, but I just wish he would let people see the other sides of him. He’s actually a kind person underneath his gruff exterior,” Hitoka lamented before changing the course of the conversation.

“Will you also be attending the ball with His Grace?”

You plastered a smile on your face and prayed it looked genuine. “I’m not sure if Toru will be able to attend but I certainly plan on it.”

Despite your relationship with Hitoka, the real reason behind your leave wasn’t something you disclosed to her or anyone else for that matter. You had already dealt with enough ridicule from being Toru’s slighted fiancée and had no desire to add more fuel to the fire by revealing the details behind his betrayal.

“He must be awfully busy these days. It’s been months since he has attended any large social gatherings.”

Your friend’s revelation was shocking to say the least, and the smile on your face faltered. Kiyoko’s sharp gaze immediately zeroed in on your face, but her scrutiny only lasted a second before it was gone.

“Ruling over a duchy is no easy feat. My father is very strict with my brother’s education.”

“Oh, how is Daichi these days? I saw Yui the other day at the modiste and…”

Hitoka’s chatter faded into the background and her revelation of Toru’s absence in society echoed in your head. You had expected Toru to take advantage of your absence to the fullest and yet he hadn’t. A single thought amidst the storm in your mind stood out amongst the rest, and your heart wavered.

Maybe he’s truly become a changed man.

And yet, the cursed image that had been branded in your mind returned and dashed away that hopeful thought, replacing it with a more cynical one.

Or maybe he’s just showing his devotion to his true love, the Marchioness.

For the remainder of the gathering, your mind continued to drift to and from the conversation until the refreshments were cleared and the sun began to set. After bidding the ladies farewell, you returned to your carriage with Akane following closely behind you.

“Akane, do we still have some of the tea leaves I brought with me from the country?”

“Yes, my lady. I daresay there is enough to give away.” Akane replied and you smiled before turning to face your perceptive maid and ally.

“Good. Have some packed and sent to Lady Hitoka and Lady Kiyoko.” You paused before adding, “and save some for yourself. You’ve earned it.”

While you could have easily waited until the Viscount’s ball to be introduced to Tobio, time was of the essence and you needed to set your plan in motion prior to meeting him. If everything went as planned and Tobio proved to be receptive to an agreement—be it one of marriage or not—then the ball would be the perfect place to present your terms and come to a verbal agreement.

With that in mind, you started drafting a letter to Tobio introducing yourself as Hitoka’s friend and provided him with a brief outline of what you wanted, offered, and how it would benefit him and his family. You reread the letter thrice and debated including the possibility of a marriage between the two of you. From what you’d gathered, Tobio Kageyama was a straightforward man that valued honesty, so you added it in while making it clear that it would be one of mutual respect. You knew it was risky sending a letter to a man who was no better than a stranger but it was a risk you were willing to take.

The couple of days prior to the ball you spent preoccupying your mind with business and family matters to steer your mind away from Tobio’s pending reply. It wasn’t until a day before the ball that Akane interrupted you to bring you your correspondence. There was a sealed letter and one short message that you picked up and read without a second thought.

 I will not ask to escort you to Viscount Udai’s ball as I do not deserve that honor. I only ask that you not deny me the first dance as your fiancé.

Yours,

Toru

 As much as you dreaded the idea of being in the same social function as Toru, let alone dancing with him, you had appearances to keep up and would have to permit it for propriety’s sake. You tried not to dwell too much on his intimate farewell address and shifted your gaze to the sealed letter, which upon closer inspection, had the Kageyama family crest pressed into the navy-blue wax. With trembling fingers, you broke the seal and unfolded the paper, ever eager to read its contents.

 Lady Y/N,

I was very surprised when I read your letter simply because I did not know who you were. Now that I am more familiar with you and your family, I am interested in your offer and would like to speak with you more at Viscount Udai’s gathering.

Until then,

Tobio Kageyama

 A sigh of relief left your lips. Your gamble had paid off and Tobio was considering your offer. If you played your cards right during your meeting then it would only be a matter of time before you would be free of Toru Oikawa while saving your family.

Your eyes stole a glance at Toru’s note. While you should have tossed the note into the fire, your fingers ran over the dry ink until they stopped at the word before his name. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you took his note and placed it inside the wooden box that contained his other letters.

According to Akane, Viscount Udai’s ball was rumored to be the grandest event of the season and when you stepped out of your carriage with Henry’s help and peered up at the bustling and glowing manor, you found no fault in her statement.

The ballroom was brightly illuminated with chandeliers of glass. Curtains and elaborate tapestries of white and gold lined the walls. White flowers of all sorts hung from the ceilings, lined the doors, and wrapped around columns. The room was something out of a fairytale and the people that filled it had all dressed the part. Glancing around the room, you searched for a familiar face only to hear your name called.

“Y/N!”

Hitoka stood on the other side of the ballroom surrounded by Kiyoko and other gentlemen you didn’t recognize. One of the gentlemen turned his head in your direction and stopped when he saw you. Approaching the small party, your attention remained fixed on the man whose midnight blue eyes were glued to your face with an intensity that unnerved you.

Hitoka’s gloved hands reached out to yours and drew you into the circle of people. Now facing the gentleman, his gaze softened slightly before it shifted to Hitoka.

“Y/N, this is Tobio Kageyama. He’s the man I was telling you about the other day.”

Hitoka’s hand patted Tobio’s upper arm before addressing him. “Tobio, this is Y/N L/N. She’s the friend that just arrived from the country.”

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lord.” You replied demurely and sank into a curtsey.

“Likewise, my lady.” Tobio’s reply was stiff but his bow was even stiffer and earned him an elbow to the ribs from the shorter man beside him.

Introductions to the other two gentlemen were made and you learned that the shorter man next to Tobio was none other than Shoyo Hinata, a famous jockey and son of a Baron. The man with a roguish grin next to Kiyoko turned out to be her fiancée, Ryunosuke Tanaka.

At that moment, the musicians took their seats and readied their instruments while the room exploded with young men and women finding their partners for the first dance. Your eyes swept over the room in a cursory glance, and to your relief, Toru was nowhere to be found.

Kiyoko and her fiancée left to the dance floor first. They were soon followed by Shoyo and Hitoka but not before the former shot Tobio a pointed look and gestured over to you with a tilt of his head. You found the jockey’s not-so-subtle indication amusing but played off having seen anything. Tobio cleared his throat and you turned your head to face him.

“May I have this dance, my—”

“No, you may not.”

Toru’s voice rang out from behind you. It had a hard-edged quality to it that you’d never heard and sent shivers down your spine. Before you could turn around, his hands settled on your hip and hand. The intimacy of the gesture left you stunned and unable to reject him.

“My fiancée has already promised me her first dance.”

Toru’s warm breath tickled your exposed neck and set your face aflame. Tobio shifted his weight and the action garnered your attention. His brow was furrowed as his eyes searched yours for an explanation you couldn’t give him.

Still in your stupor, Toru drew you away to the dance floor. You opened your mouth to say something but the music started and the couples around you bowed and curtseyed in greeting before they began to move.

The muted chatter around you, the soft music in the background, and Toru’s eyes, darker than usual, drinking in your appearance left you speechless. He looked as handsome as ever in his black tailcoat, golden waistcoat, tousled chocolate brown locks, straight nose, and a pink inviting mouth. Completely mesmerized by him, any ill-will you bore him became non-existent. You drowned in his dangerous pools of brown that disarmed you and left you bare. His touch burned through the fabric of your dress and gloves, branding you with his hands.

It was like the first time you ever danced with him only it wasn’t. Where butterflies had once fluttered about in your stomach, waves of something now swirled within you and pooled at your core. It was terrifying and yet you wanted more. So when the piece came to an end and Toru’s ragged breath fanned on your face, you tilted your head hoping he would close the gap.

Except he didn’t. You didn’t let him because across the room was the face of the last person you wanted to see—the Marchioness.

Her face held no malice as she watched you but she looked almost relieved and it shook you to your core.

“My love.” Toru’s voice came out as a hoarse whisper. “W-what is it?”

You didn’t answer him. Your eyes remained fixed on the marchioness. Her brow furrowed ever so slightly before turning towards one of the doors. She took three steps before turning back to face you and then she continued until she disappeared from the ballroom.

Toru reached for your hand but you side-stepped him and dashed out of the room; your name blending in with the music and chatter the further you got.

The corridors were dimly lit compared to the ballroom but you could still make out the marchioness’s silhouette in the distance. Her pale face turned to you before walking further away and entering a room. You bounded down the hallway until you reached the room and found the marchioness standing before a large French window. The room was dark except for the moonlight that spilled in and illuminated the center of the room.

“Close the door.”

You hesitated before reaching for the double doors and pushing them until you heard a click. Turning around you found the marchioness already watching you. She was as beautiful as ever with her porcelain skin, golden curls styled fashionably, and rosebud mouth. Her cat-like eyes softened in a way you’d never seen before—not even when she pretended to be your friend and ally.

“Why did you appear before me? What do you want?”

“Technically you appeared before me. This is my home after all,” She replied, a hint of mirth in her voice.

You staggered back. “W-what do you mean?”

“I remarried and am now Viscountess Udai.”

“I-I don’t…why?” Your feet took you forward until you were an arm’s length away from her. “What about Toru? I saw you with him…the two of you…that day.”

She sighed and turned her head, fixing her eyes on the wooden desk beside her. “That is the reason I had you follow me here. It’s high time I confess my sins to you.”

Her eyes looked back at you and the whirlwind of emotions swirling in them left you stunned. In the months you got to know her you knew her to be a charming but cold woman, so seeing her so vulnerable shook you to your core.

“Since I was a girl, I had always envied Toru. He had two parents that adored him and did everything in their power to ensure his happiness. My parents were the exact opposite and sold me off to the highest bidder when I was just sixteen. My late husband was a beast of a man that was forty years my senior. He had poor health but an even worse temper and wouldn’t hesitate to beat me until I passed out from the pain. It was then that Toru lost his parents in an accident, and I started to use him to make myself feel better. I tried manipulating him into thinking I was the only person who could be by his side. That I could be his friend, lover, and family. It worked for a while but when Toru started drifting away from my hold…”

Her voice that had been growing thicker with emotion broke down. Sobs wracked from her body as she slipped off her black lace glove. Under the moonlight you could make out pale scars on the underside of her forearm.

“I started to hurt myself and that kept him by my side until he met you.”

Your chest tightened painfully and tears stung your eyes but you didn’t let them fall.

“He needed a wife to fulfil his mother’s wish and I picked you for him. I believed he would remain loyal to me, but I was wrong. Day by day, Toru fell more in love with you and left me behind. When he received your father’s blessing to officially propose, I was so desperate to hold on to him that I lied to him. I promised to let him go after your marriage if he neglected you during your engagement. But that night in the garden, he declared his unyielding love for you, and I did everything I could to kill that love.”

She wiped away her tears while you let yours fall. She took a couple of deep breaths whereas a ball lodged itself inside your throat and blocked the air.

“I dare not ask for forgiveness. I only ask that you not blame Toru for my sins.”

Unable to utter a word, you managed a solemn nod before turning your heel and leaving the room. The darkness of the corridor left you hollow, the noise from the ballroom rang painfully in your ears, and the air around you was stifling. Everything about the place was suffocating, so instead of returning to the ball, you rounded the corner and left.

Upon exiting your carriage, you ignored everyone and bounded up the stairs to your bedroom before locking the door and forbidding entry for anyone. Heaving from the exertion, you lunged for the wooden box on your nightstand and set it on your desk with a thud. After taking a seat, you lit a candlestick and took out the first of twelve letters.

With trembling hands, you finally broke the turquoise seal and unfolded the paper to read Toru’s side of the story.

After you read the letters once, you sobbed into your hands until the candlestick burned out. You reread them and cursed yourself for being so oblivious—so blind—to the pain in his heart. The third time, your heart swelled with affection for your father who did everything he could to ensure you would be happy with Toru prior to allowing the proposal to take place. The fourth time, you pulled out a piece of paper and wrote to Tobio rescinding your offer and offering your most sincere apologies. By the time you finished rereading the twelfth letter for the fifth time, the birds outside were chirping signaling dawn.

You stood up abruptly and glanced out the window to find the rose-colored light of the sun’s rays peeking over the horizon.

I have to see him.

After washing your face, you discarded your ball gown in favor of a simple cotton dress and a woolen shawl. You picked up the letter addressed to Tobio and opened the door.

Akane, who had evidently been sleeping at your door, tumbled backwards and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

“Oh! A-apologies, my lady, but I waited to see if you needed anything and…”

You crouched down and helped the girl up to her feet. “Thank you, Akane, for everything you do. You are my most treasured ally.”

Her caramel-colored eyes welled up with tears that she wiped away with her sleeve. “H-how can I help you, my lady?”

You handed her the letter. “Have this sent to the Kageyama estate as soon as possible. Also let my father know that I will not be cancelling my engagement.”

Akane’s eyes lingered on your coat and a smile played on her lips as she replied, “right away, my lady.”

Outside the confines of your home, you breathed in the cool morning air and bolted down the white stone steps, setting off for Toru’s estate. Trudging through the grass and kicking up the rocks of your front lawn, you were full of energy despite not having slept a wink. The negative emotions that had weighed you down since your engagement were lifted and all you could think about was Toru. You wanted to drink in the sight of him, touch his face, run your fingers through his hair, and wrap your arms around him never to let go.

Your front gate eventually came to view, but before that, the backside of a man standing near your family’s fountain appeared and your breath caught in your throat.

Tall, broad shoulders underneath a black coat, and wind-swept brown hair, you knew who it was before he turned around.

Toru’s velvet brown eyes widened and his lips parted at the sight of you. He looked perfectly disheveled in his plain white shirt, unbuttoned, and exposing his chest, and grey trousers that looked like they’d seen better days. Like a moth to a flame, you drew closer until he was in front of you.

“I-I had to see you,” he admitted. “You disappeared from the ball and—”

“She told me…what actually happened.”

His eyes widened. “I must tell you—”

You reached for his hands, not able to hold back any longer. “You already have.” You brushed your thumbs against his knuckles and felt his pulse quicken. “I read your letters…multiple times.”

“I’m sorry, truly,” he breathed.

“I know, and I’m sorry as well. I should’ve given you a chance to explain. I should’ve read them sooner.” You released his hands and stared into his eyes, lips trembling. “If I’m too late an—”

His mouth descended upon yours in a kiss that silenced the words on your tongue. His oh-so- soft lips felt like satin on yours and you melted into his arms that wrapped around you and drew you closer to him. The swirling heat in your core returned and you wrapped your arms around his back, eager to see where the sensation led you.

Toru broke away from the kiss first, leaning his forehead against yours and taking in shallow ragged breaths. A whine escaped your lips and the embarrassing noise set your cheeks aflame. Toru laughed and pressed a chaste kiss to the tip of your nose.

“Patience, my love. We have the rest of our lives for this.” He assured you and drew you into a loving embrace.

His sweet words sounded like a promise to your ears and tears of joy prickled your eyes from simply imagining your future with Toru, the man you loved and had never stopped loving.

[rebeccccccaaa]

ʙɪɢɢᴇsᴛ ғᴇᴀʀs

_________________________

ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛᴇᴅ: (ANON) Heyyya I saw that you were taking requests! I love your writing and could I maybe get a fic where the reader is slightly new to the avengers and they’re at one of Tony’s parties and someone tells the entire team how she’s always felt that no one could lover her and somehow Bucky reveals his feelings for her and it maybe ends in smut or fluff? Thank you 💗

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: Smut 18+, Bucky gets upset and it’s kinda hot ;), insecure!reader, fluff

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇ: Thank you for the request darling! I tweaked it a bit but i think i did alright… Anyhoo enjoy!!

_______________________

“Quite the party, Tones. Really one up yourself tonight didn’t you?” Nat said after everyone cleaned up. It was around one in the morning, Everyone that Tony invited to yet another extravagant party had finally left.  Leaving you and the rest of the team for a small little after party,  as per usual  according to Nat.

You joined the Avengers not long ago and you had yet to be invited to one of Tony's parties.  This was the first of many to come and boy, did those fantasies get fulfilled.  Guests dressed to the nines occupied every corner of the room, it was almost too crowded for your taste. 

But now here you were settled on the couch with the rest of your teammates laughing and giggling about stupid things that happened during the party. 

“Hey, you had fun,” Tony pointed sternly at Nat, who simply shrugged with a devilish smirk. 

“So what now? Because I don’t know about you guys but I am not tired at all,” Clint groaned.

“Truth or dare?” Nat said.

“What?” 

“Truth. Or. Dare,” she repeated.

“Dare,” he challenged.

“Lift Thor’s hammer,” she mocked, considering the last they all tried it no one succeed and a robot crashed their party.

“Alright,” he grunted, standing up.

“Tony, got any robots that wanna kill you this time?” He laughed.

“I don’t think so,” Tony looked around, making everyone laugh.

“What happened last time?” you whispered to Bucky. 

“I have no idea, I was in hiding after I almost killed my best friend,” he whispered back.

“I’m so sorry,” you had a shocked look on your face.

“It’s ok, doll. We’re all fine and dandy now,” he winked, making you feel flustered. 

Bucky had the one you felt most friendly with. Nat too but you usually spent most of your time with him. He was just so nice to you and not to mention how incredibly charming and handsome he is.

“Had enough?” Nat said.

“Bitch,” Clint grumbled before sitting down after having failed yet again to lift Thor’s hammer.

“Who’s next!”

You guys went back and forth giving dares to everyone, from making Steve and Bucky have a beer chugging contest, to asking Vision if he had a dick, you know being a robot at all, to you taking three shots of tequila with no chase, ultimately failing and almost dying.

“Ok, we’re doing too many dares; I’m running out of ideas,” Nat laughed.

“Y/n, truth or dare.”

“Truth, I guess,” you said.

“What’s… your biggest fear?” a collection of ‘ooh’s’ and ‘ah’s’ echoed.

“Oh, well uh… clowns,” you chuckled, not really wanting to reveal you real fear; you felt it was kinda stupid.

“Clowns? Bitch, please. What is it for real?” Nat scooted to you.

“Um… well, uh-”

You took a deep breath.

“Being unlovable,” you whispered.

“What? We love you, Y/n. You’re family now; we all love you,” Steve spoke up.

“Yeah we love you,” everyone chimed in. 

“I know it’s stupid,” you said, shaking it off.

“It’s not stupid if it’s your biggest fear,” Nat said rubbing your back.

“I guess what I mean is… You know that love where you just think about that person and your palms get sweaty, you start feeling hot, your stomach kind of erupts into butterflies. And it's just because you thought about them. You see their smile and you want to smile too. You see them laugh and it's music to your ears; and all you can think about for the rest of the day is how you can make that person laugh again. And when you touch them, your fingertips start to tingle. Your body turns cold and then they leave and then your body turns really hot and you get super sweaty. That kind of love is so intimate between you and that person. I've never had that and I'm terrified that I never will.”

Everyone looked at you with their full attention. They never really thought about it because they’ve all loved someone. Steve felt that way about Peggy, Tony with Pepper, Nat and Bruce felt that way with each other, Thor had Jane, Clint was married and had a family, Wanda and Vision. It was just you Sam and Bucky and it was obvious you three had never been in love like that.

“How can you say that?” Bucky broke the silence.

“What?”

“How can you be afraid you’ll never be loved? Y/n, any man, woman, anybody would be the luckiest person alive to call you there’s. You are so special and unlike anybody I’ve ever met. I see you smile and it’s like a work of art. Your laugh is the most precious thing I’ve ever heard. Everytime you touch me I can’t help but wish…,” he paused, remembering there were other people around.

“You’re perfect and anyone who can’t see that is goddamn fucking idiot,” he huffed. Bucky didn’t give anyone time to process what he said before he left the room to his own.

“I think I’m done… for the night,” you whispered walking out. 

“Yeah good night guys,” Nat followed you out. 

Everyone scattered and went to their rooms, tension still in the air. You went to your room and thought about Bucky’s words. It felt like there was something between you two but it was exactly clarified. You changed into sleepwear and decided to talk to Bucky real quick before bed.

“Buck?” you softly knocked on his door.

“Hey,” he said, awkwardly opening the door.

“Can I come in?”

“Of course,” he opened the door wider and closed the door behind you.

“I thought about what you said, tonight.”

“Yeah, I didn’t mean to upset you or make you uncomfortable,” he scratched his neck.

“I’m not upset.”

There was a moment of silence between you.

“Y/n,” he spoke up.

“Yeah?” 

“I like you,” he said bluntly.

“So when I heard you say you didn’t know if you were unlovable I got kinda upset because well,” he trailed off.

 “Really?” you asked, smiling softly.

“Yeah, I get it if you don’t-”

“No! I do, I do. I like you,” you laughed. Bucky breathed out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He walked closer to you until he stood toe to toe with you. Your stomach fluttered like you wished it would for so long before . You felt hot and resisted the urge to reach out and touch him.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n,” he cupped your face.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

“Yes, please,” you responded.

You melted ainst Bucky when his lips touched yours. You felt unsteady and reached forward to holding his waist, smaller than you originally thought. He walked slowly forward until your knees buckled and you sat on the bed. 

You fell back and pulled on top of you making Bucky’s hips settle between your legs. His rough hands felt gentle moving slowly up your body under your shirt. His hands brushed the curve of your breasts making you gasped lightly. 

Bucky lips traced your jaw line and you moved your head back giving him room to nip at your neck. Your hands instinctively went to hair and you moaned softly at Bucky's lips on your neck. 

You slightly pushed him off of your body and lifted his shirt. Bucky lifted his arms not without a chuckled and discarded to the floor. You moaned at the sight of his muscular torso, your nails lightly scratching him make his abs tighten under your fingertips.

You practically tore your own shirt off before throwing yourself to him kissing him hard. He laughed wrapping his arms around your bare torso bracing himself from falling on the floor with his feet.

“You’re so handsome, Bucky,” you giggled.

“And you’re so gorgeous,” he responded.

You both rid of your bottoms and you laid back for Bucky to hover over you. His eyes were lustful, nearly black, as he stared hungrily into your own. Your skin raised, chills running down your spine. Bucky kissed you as he lined himself with your entrance. 

Up until this moment you hadn’t realized how wet you were, arousal practically oozing from you onto your thighs. You peeked in between your bodies and was taken back by his impressive size.

“Is it gonna fit?” you looked up at him.

“Of course. But if not, well there are plenty of ways to give my girl pleasure.”

“Your girl?” you smirked.

“Hell yeah, doll. I didn’t almost reveal that I’ve been waiting to get my hands on your delicious body for nothing.”

“You’re too funny,” you kissed his nose.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his face softening.

“Yeah.”

He pushed himself in sliding easily from your slick. You closed your eyes and moaned as did Bucky, throwing his head back slightly from pleasure.

“You feel fucking amazing, baby,” he groaned.

You just moaned feeling incredibly full. You squeezed his shoulders allowing him permission to move and he resisted thrusting animalistically because you felt so velvety. You felt so warm and perfect; like you made for him and him for you.

“Fuck, Bucky. Harder please. Fuck me hard.”

“You sure honey?” he questioned not wanting to hurt you.

“Yes, please!”

He grabbed your hands and brought them over your head thrusting into like a maniac. Your back arched causing Bucky to hit an entirely new angle making you moan louder. 

“God you sound so fucking pretty. Those precious little sounds from me fucking you stupid,” he whispered lowly in your ear. 

“Fuuck!” you drew out. Your legs wrapped around Bucky pulling him closer chasing your orgasm. 

“Look at that, baby. Look how your pussy’s taking me,” Bucky grunted. 

You looked down to see the lewd image of Bucky going  and out of you repeatedly. It was so eroctic however, and you moaned before finally feeling the tightened coil in the pit of your stomach burst. 

Your back arched once again and your arms wrapped around Bucky’s neck after he let go reaching his own high too. You both moaned before settling in silence; your body trembled under him and Bucky breathed heavily into your shoulder.

“Fuck, that was unbelievable, doll,” Bucky laughed.

“Yeah, man. You’ve got a good dick,” you smirked.

“If you let me, I want to take you out. On a real date,” Bucky said.

“I’d love that,” you smiled. 

You two fell asleep that night and woke up in each other's arms. Bucky took out to breakfast, then lunch, and then dinner. You guys didn’t like the food at the restaurant too much so you used Tony’s card that you snuck out and went to McDonald’s dressed highly inappropriately, better dressed for Tony’s party than this. 

Nonetheless, it was perfect and that fear you had long disappeared for everyday bucky made sure you knew he loved you. And of course you did the same.