#anthony x reader
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Pinkish Clouds - Anthony Bridgerton
Word count: 1515
Summary: It is very precious to watch your husband take responsibility as a father, is it not?
As the first rays of sunlight streamed through the drapes, Y/n Bridgerton, wife of Anthony, stirred in your sumptuous bed.
The soft linens, embroidered with intricate floral patterns, caressed your skin like the gentle touch of a spring breeze. The scent of lavender filled your nostrils, a welcome aroma that signified a new beginning.
You stretched your limbs, the memory of the labor pains you endured the day before still fresh in your mind.
But as you lay there, lost in thought, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of contentment and accomplishment.
You opened your eyes, taking in the familiar surroundings of your chamber.
To your left, a fireplace crackled, its warmth banishing the morning chill. To your right, a large window overlooked the immaculately manicured gardens beyond.
And beside your bed, your sisters-in-law, Eloise and Daphne, sat in quiet conversation, their laughter tinkling like bells.
You felt a pang of affection for the two women who had become such an important part of your life since your marriage to Anthony.
Eloise, the youngest of the two, had always been somewhat of a sympathy to her.
With her smart mind and independent soul, she was a far cry from the demure, obedient society ladies you had grown up with.
Yet, there was no denying the deep bond that existed between them. As for Daphne, she was sweet-natured, charming, and utterly irresistible.
As you sat up in bed, your sisters-in-law turned to you, their faces alight with curiosity and excitement.
"Good morning, y/n," they chorused, beaming at you. "How do you feel?"
You smiled weakly. "A bit exhausted, to be honest. But otherwise, I'm doing well. How are you two?"
Eloise shrugged.
"We're fine. Daphne's been keeping me company while you were asleep. It's been rather dull if I'm being fair." She glanced at her sister, her expression teasing.
Daphne rolled her eyes. "Oh, hush. I've been enjoying myself. Again, we have something rather important to discuss." She leaned in conspiratorially.
"Mother has been pacing the hallway for hours. I think she's tense to see the new addition to the family. I'm sure she'll be in soon."
As if on cue, a knock was heard at the door. "That must be her now," Daphne said, her face lighting up with anticipation.
Eloise rose from her seat and crossed the room to answer the door. You, feeling slightly more awake now, sitting up straighter in bed, wondering what your mother-in-law had in store for you today.
As Eloise swung the door open, a warm, familiar figure filled the entrance.
"Mother!" Daphne cried out, leaping to her feet. "We've been waiting for you."
Violet Bridgerton, the family matriarch, surveyed the scene with a delighted smile.
"My, my," she said, her eyes twinkling. "It seems I've missed quite a bit. A new baby, I hear."
She glanced at you, her expression softening into one of motherly concern. "And how are you feeling, dear? Are you in need of anything?"
You felt a lump form in your throat as you looked at the woman who had become your second mother since marrying Anthony.
Violet was everything a lady should be, gracious, elegant, and utterly devoted to her family.
She was also fiercely protective of them, always making sure they were well cared for and safe.
As you struggled to find the words to express your gratitude, all you could do was manage a small smile. "I'm doing well, thank you. Your presence is all the comfort I need."
Her sisters-in-law exchanged knowing glances, clearly understanding the depth of emotion behind your words.
They each took turns leaning in to kiss Violet's cheek, expressing their own gratitude for her love and support.
As they did so, the room seemed to fill with a palpable sense of warmth and affection.
"Well, I'm glad to hear that," Violet said, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Now, I have a special gift for you and the baby. I've been working on it for months."
She reached into her reticule and pulled out a small, delicately wrapped package, which she placed in your lap. "It's not much, but I hope you'll like it."
Your curiosity piqued, and you gently unwrapped the package, revealing a beautiful, hand-stitched blanket adorned with intricate lacework.
"Oh, Violet, it's lovely!" you exclaimed, your voice breaking with emotion. "I will cherish it always."
Tears began to form in your eyes as you clutched the blanket to your chest. "Thank you, thank you so much."
Eloise and Daphne exchanged knowing smiles. They knew that this gift, more than anything else, symbolized Violet's acceptance of you as one of her own.
It was a symbol of the love and support that you all shared as a family.
As they continued to stand there, the room seemed to fill with a sense of peace and contentment.
Even though there was still so much that needed to be done, for this brief moment, you were all together, united in your love for one another.
"Now, girls," Violet said, her voice soft and gentle, "I've been thinking. Perhaps you would like to help y/n with something?"
Her suggestion was met with nods of agreement from Eloise and Daphne.
They had been itching to help out but had wanted to give their mother time to bond with you first.
"Would you like us to help you get out of bed?" Eloise asked, her tone reassuring. "We could help you down to the sitting room to see Anthony and the baby."
Your face lit up at the thought, and you quickly nodded your consent. The two sisters moved forward, each taking an arm to assist you as you slowly rose from the bed.
Once you were upright, they were beginning to guide you toward the sitting room.
The hallway was long and winding, the walls adorned with paintings that told the story of the family's history.
As you made your way down the hall, you could hear the faint strains of music drifting towards you.
It was the same waltz you had danced to at your wedding, the one that always made your heart skip a beat.
The closer you got, the more the music seemed to swirl around you, pulling you forward with irresistible force.
Finally, you reached the sitting room, its windows overlooking the lush gardens beyond.
The room was lit by soft candlelight, casting a warm glow over the gathered family.
Anthony was dancing slowly with your newborn baby, his eyes never leaving the child's face as he moved in perfect harmony with the music.
Eloise and Daphne guided you to a comfortable chair by the window, where you could watch the scene unfold before you.
As you all watched, you could feel a lump forming in your throat. It was so beautiful to see your husband dancing with your child, their love for each other shining through every movement.
You could see the resemblance between them, both of them with Anthony's dark hair and eyes.
The baby's tiny fingers curled around Anthony's finger as if she were already familiar with the feeling of being held so close.
Your sisters-in-law took seats on either side of you, their hands clasped together in their laps.
They smiled at you, understanding the depth of emotion that you were feeling at that moment.
It was a precious moment, one that you would all cherish for the rest of your lives.
As Anthony finished his dance with the baby, he came over to you all, his face flushed with happiness and exhaustion.
He bent down to kiss your forehead, his touch sending a wave of warmth through your body.
"I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I wanted to be the first one to hold her, and I did not want to wake you."
"It's all right," you replied softly, your eyes never leaving his face. "I know you were with her." Anthony smiled at you, a tear trickling down his cheek.
He reached out and took your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"I've been thinking," he said, hesitating for a moment before continuing, "That we should have a naming ceremony for the baby. Something small and intimate, just for our closest friends and family. What do you think?"
Your heart swelled with joy at the thought. You turned to your sisters-in-law, your face alight with excitement.
"That sounds excellent," you said, your voice shaking slightly with emotion. "I would adore that."
"Then it's settled," Anthony declared, his voice strong and sure. "We'll have the ceremony next weekend. Everyone will be here to celebrate with us."
He leaned down to kiss your forehead again before returning to his daughter, who had fallen asleep in his arms.
As you all watched Anthony gently rock the child in his arms, you felt a sense of peace wash over you.
You were home, surrounded by the people she loved most in the world. And despite the challenges that lay ahead, she knew that they would face them together, as a family.
#anthony bridgerton#bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton x reader#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton imagines#bridgerton imagine#bridgerton netflix#colin bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton x reader#bridgerton#anthony x reader#bridgerton fanfiction#benedict bridgerton#bridgerton x you#bridgerton x female reader#bridgerton x y/n#x reader#anthony bridgerton x you#colin bridgerton#eloise bridgerton
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Angel dust with a butterfly demon reader and they have to fly up to kiss him because he's so tall <3
A/n: IM DEAD! THIS IS SO CUTE.
Angel Dust always commented on how beautiful your wings were though that didn't stop him from teasing you about how short you were. "Look at how cute ya are." He teased as he hooked a finger under your chin.
Snorting, you pushed his hand away. Your wings unfurling. Beautiful blues, greens and pinks shimmering as you titled your head to the side as you stepped towards him.
"I don't know Anthony, I think it's rather cute seeing you getting all flustered." You took another step towards him as you placed your hand on his chest as your wings lifted you in the air.
Relaxing into the kiss, Angel Dust quickly drew you in close to deep the kiss. He was careful not to touch your wings, not yet anyway. Right now he was going to enjoy this moment with you because whenever he was with you he felt safe, felt wanted.
Thanks to you, he finally felt loved.
#drabbles#drabble#angel dust#angel dust x reader#angel dust x you#angel dust x y/n#angel dust hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel angel dust#anthony x reader#anthony hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel anthony#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel x y/n#male reader
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꒰ :🥀 [ Just for a minute ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯
Summary : Angel came back rather late again like always, or rather early. You decide to join him in his room with anything he needs as comfor tand maybe you end up risking your soul for the one you love.
Pairing : Angel Dust x Reader
Word count : 1549 Words
Genre : Comfort, Soft, Angst
Warnings ➵ Mentioning of Angels workplace and job,
deal with Alastor
a/n : Even if this is a comfort fic, please be aware that it mentions heavy themes, so if you do not feel in the right mind, go back and read smth else please, take care everyone!♡
If you need any help or someone to talk to, here is a site to help search for helplines in your country♡ -> HELPLINES
┌───────────────────────── · · · · ♡
It was early in the morning when Angel came back from working the whole night, body exhausted and sore. No one even awake yet, all of the others getting the rest, he wished to have. Fat nuggets already slumbering on his pillow, as Angel finally laid down ready to sleep his worries away.
Now it was hours later, the hotel echoing with voices and laughter. Alastor was getting on Vaggie and Husk's nerves, Niffty was off like the little maniac she is hunting down roaches, while you and Charlie enjoyed a quiet talk over some tea. Just slowly you noticed, that you hadn't seen Angel at all this day, it was almost noon which was unusual even for him. "Sorry to interrupt you Charls, but did you see Angel at all today?" Taking a look around, now it also doomed on Charlie that Angel was nowhere to be seen. Shaking her head now, you bid your goodbye to Charlie for now, mentioning how you would be going to check on Angel.
The white spider surely had a special place in your heart already now, so you were really worried, especially knowing he had to work last night.
Walking up the stairs and to Angel's room, the pink LED heart with spidery lines around it shone softly on your face, inside the heart were four pictures he had hung up together. One was of his pet pig Fat Nuggets, one was with Charlie hugging him, him with Niffty and Husk, the last one was of you and Angel, your arms laying comfortable around his neck, as you press a soft kiss on his cheek, written under the picture was > My love <.
Angel and you were not yet official, but almost everyone in this hotel could see that your affection and love for each other was beyond that of just friends.
Raising your hand now, you softly knock on the door, it takes a few seconds, but you can hear Angel's muffled voice invite you inside. In the room, your heart was breaking. He layed on his bed all curled together, Fat nuggets in his arm, the blanket pulled up to his chin. The room was chaotic, probably not really having had the chance to clean up yet.
"Oh sweets, it's you.." Angel looked over his shoulder, before sitting up as he noticed it was you standing in her room. His face looked tired, yet he still tried to smile. It hurt you to see him like this and you swore you would do anything you could to get him out of his contract. "Oh baby, you don't have to smile, I know you're not okay, so come here.." Walking over to him, your hand softly glides over his head now as you pull him into a hug. It took him a second to realize what was happening, before he laid his arms around you, letting out an exhausted sigh. "I'm sorry.. Last night was.. rough.." Resting his head against your stomach, as his arms hold your waist softly. You assumed it was, he looked more tired than usual.
"Let's lay down hm? Do you want to tell me about it?" Guiding him, you lay down on his bed, slightly propped up against the headrest, as you pull Angel to rest on your chest. Slowly feeling his body starting to relax against yours. "I'd rather not talk about it right now.. Let's just cuddle a bit.." Angel already closed his eyes, as your hand runs up and down his back, noticing a soft smile on his face from the caressing of your hands. It warms your heart to know that Angel felt this safe and comfortable with you. Pressing a kiss to his head now, making him look up at you with a smile. "With what did I deserve that?" Smiling back at him, your hand resting on his cheek now, your thumb running up and down. "Just wanted to show how much I love you.." Angel's eyes grow wide as your lips softly press a kiss to his forehead next. You two never voiced anything about loving one another, so this was making his heart jump and happy.
"I love you too.." Hiding his face in the crook of your neck now, you could feel some wetness on your shoulder, but you don't mention, that he deserves to be able to cry to his heart's content. You were going to be here through it all, holding Angel in your arms, making sure he knew that he was safe with you.
After napping together, you hand Angel off to Charlie and Vaggie, making sure they will take care of him now and make sure he eats a good warm, and hearty meal, exusing yourself with the excuse that you have something to attend to.
Standing in front of a certain red-haired deer demon's room now. Knocking and entering as you were called inside. "Greetings my dear! What can I help you with?" The cheerful voice of Alastor boomed through the room, as he came over to you, towering over you with his height. "I want to make a deal." Ears immediately turning to you, his smirk grew wider. You knew this was probably the worst idea ever, but you would do anything and everything for Angel. "Splendid! What is your proposal darling? Do tell me!" Alastor was always keen on making deals with people, especially if it would perhaps end in him having another soul. "I want you to help me get Angel out of his contract with Valentino. Tell me what you want in return and you will get it."
His eyes were watching you the whole time, acting as if he was thinking of what he wanted, despite knowing exactly what he would ask for such a big favor. "Well my dear, that is quite a big favor to ask for! So.. Your soul bound to me, for in return I will free your darling little Angel of his chains!" Holding out his hand now, green shining from it, as his smirk got bigger and his eyes turned to dials. Hesitating for a second, but in the end, you shake his hand with determination. Chains manifesting themselves around your neck, the end in his hand now, as he looks at them smirking before they disappear again. "Great to make a deal with you sweetheart! Well then, on to me fulfilling my side of the deal!" Before you knew it, he was gone inside his shadow, you had no idea what he was going to do, but you do trust him.
Your back hits the door now as the realization sinks in, your soul is now in his hands, but if that meant Angel would be free from Valentino, you would do it again in a heartbeat anytime.
While waiting for Alastor, you decided to look for the others for now, finding them all in the foyer to have a little game. Joining them, Husk's eyes immediately fell upon you, noticing something was up, but he didn't dare ask in front of everyone else right now. The game Charlie came up with went on for quite a while, a certain radio demon striding into the foyer and over to you with a smirk. Presented to you now was a gold scroll, you look up to Alastor as he nods - Angels contract. Everyone's eyes were on you, especially Angel's wide ones, as you took the scroll into your hands.
Quickly you were pulled up and after Angel, to his room. "What does this mean? What did you do?!" His eyes were staring at the scroll, as you slowly unrolled it in front of him. On it was his signature, which was all he had to see. Looking him in the eyes, you tear up the paper in front of him, before letting it glide to the floor. "You're free Anthony.." He dropped to his knees upon hearing his name fall from your lips, tears already streaming down his face, he was free? Free from Valentino and that damned studio? His hands desperately reaching out to you, as you sink to your knees in front of him, letting him pull you into a hug. "How? Why..?" He couldn't get his head around how or why you did it, in the deepest part of him he knew, but he needed to hear you say it. "How? Well, let's say I'm on the leash of a certain demon in this hotel now and why? Because I love you, you deserve to be happy and free." Sobbing now echoed in the room, as you just held him through all those emotions he was feeling right now.
"I'm sorry.." Apologizing to you, he looks up, his eyes red and teary. You smile at him, telling him he had nothing to be sorry about and that it was your own will to give your soul for his. While Alastor might be just as bad, if not even worse, than Valentino, as long as you listen to him, you will be just fine. "I love you okay? I never want to see you like this ever again, okay?" Nodding now, he leans down and catches your lips in a soft kiss. The first one of many to follow.
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin#hazbin angel dust#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin x you#hazbin x reader#hazbin hotel x you#angel dust#angel dust x reader#angel dust x you#angel dust imagine#hazbin imagine#Anthony#anthony x reader#hazbin hotel anthony
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Calling Out to You
Summary: You reconnect with an old friend during the Season, but the young Viscount is not the same as the boy you grew up with. Requested by @junevoidzombie
Warnings: Description of injuries, minor character death, period misogyny, Anthony being difficult
~
“Help!” you called, starting to panic as the evening air grew cooler and the forest grew dimmer. You sniffled and wiped your nose on the sleeve of your dress; your mama was going to be so angry, but the dress was ruined now anyways. “Is anybody out here?” you cried.
You heard a twig snapping in the distance, and your head snapped up. You let out a pitiful hiccup, but you finally stopped your incessant blubbering. You waited a few more moments, hoping the sound would come closer, but it didn’t. It must have been an animal, you thought.
“Who’s there?” a voice called. It didn’t sound particularly friendly, but any help was better than staying out here.
“My name is (Y/N)!” you called back. “I tripped and now I fear I have sprained my ankle.”
“Hold on. I shall be there in a moment, miss,” the voice called back, this time slightly closer.
In less than a minute, a figure started to take form in the growing darkness. As he grew closer, you realized that he was younger than you were expecting - perhaps only three years older than yourself. He had the most beautiful dark hair and eyes, though, and you became conscious of the horrible disarray you were currently in.
He knelt beside you. “I know you said your ankle is injured; is there any way you think you can stand on it, with my assistance?”
You shook your head. “I have already tried, sir.”
“Anthony,” he interrupted. He cleared his throat. “You must call me Anthony, miss.”
Your face lit up with a smile. “Then you must call me (Y/N), Anthony. My family just moved here from Hertfordshire. We now live at Turring Manor, and I was exploring the country when I fell.”
He smiled back shyly. “Well, it would most likely be easier to carry you to my family’s home. It is much closer than Turring Manor, and the sun is already setting.”
“That would be most appreciated, Anthony. Thank you!” you replied eagerly.
The next thing you knew, Anthony was lifting you off of the ground, being extra careful to not jostle your hurt leg too much. Once you were off of the ground, however, Anthony looked at you while a blush crept across his cheeks. “Um, it might be easier to walk if you put your arms around me as well. I wouldn’t want your leg to pain you more than necessary,” he mumbled, clearly embarrassed.
“Very well,” you whispered. You couldn’t help your own blush as you did as he asked you. Once that was done, he set off in the direction he had come from.
~
“Anthony, there you are darling! Wherever have you been?” A very beautiful woman came down the steps as you approached the very impressive home. It must be Anthony’s mother; the resemblance was uncanny.
“I am sorry I am late, mother, but our new neighbor fell in our woods and could not walk home,” Anthony explained.
The lady’s eyes finally fell on you and concern filled them. “Oh, you poor thing,” she cried. “Anthony, bring her up to the yellow bedchamber. I shall have the maids draw a bath and bring her something to eat.”
Anthony’s mother sprung into action, and before you knew it, you were being laid upon a soft bed and Anthony was being shooed out of the room. After a luxurious bath, you were given a silk nightgown borrowed from one of Anthony’s sisters.
Said sisters (at least two of them - you had heard there was at least one more) came to keep you company before it was time to go to bed. You could tell you all would become fast friends although the two girls were as different as could be. Daphne was content to stay and practice piano while Eloise was always ready for an adventure. Life would certainly not be dull living so close to Aubrey Hall.
“So Anthony really carried you all the way from the woods because you fell?” Daphne questioned as you explained what had happened that day.
“Yes, he did. I couldn’t be more grateful; my parents would have been worried sick if they had not heard from me,” you said.
Daphne sighed, a dreamy look taking over her features. “That is so romantic. Like a knight rescuing the princess in the stories papa tells us. Right, Eloise?” Daphne gushed.
Eloise rolled her eyes at her older sister’s antics. “Anthony is hardly a knight in shining armor, Daphne. You are being silly,” Eloise retorted.
Seeing how a fight was about to break out, you said, “He may not be a knight of olde but he certainly rescued me today.”
Eloise and Daphne looked at each other, slow smiles growing on each of their faces, making you nervous. “Do you love our brother, (Y/N)?” they squealed in unison.
“What? Of course not! We just met!” you protested, but the butterflies flying in your stomach told a different story.
~
“Anthony! You and Benedict - and Colin if he can behave himself and not eat all the biscuits - must come to my tea party this afternoon,” Daphne decreed at the breakfast table. Her proclamation was met with several groans and one small protest of “Hey!”
Anthony scowled at his younger sister. “Tea parties are for girls, Daphne. Besides, I have a shooting lesson this afternoon,” he said.
Daphne beamed despite the implied insult. “No you don’t! I already asked papa, and he has rescheduled your lesson. He hopes to join us for a bit after his meeting with Lord Aberly,” she said primly. Her eyes glimmered with a spark of mischief. “(Y/N) shall also be there,” she added in a sing-song voice.
“Fine, we shall attend your tea party.”
“Oh, come on, Anthony! Why did you have to accept for the both of us?”
~
“Are you excited for the new baby, Ant?” you asked as you strolled in Aubrey Hall’s garden.
He shrugged, making his broadening shoulders fill his jacket even more. He had changed so much in the year he had been away at university, but he was still the same Anthony, thank goodness. “I suppose. It is always nice to welcome a new sibling, but the novelty has worn off. Each baby is just like the last,” he chuckled.
You slapped his arm playfully, giggling as well. “How could you say that, Anthony?” you scolded. “Are you going to think that of your own children as well?”
You thought you saw his eyes flicker over your form with a strange expression in them, but it must have been a trick of the light for when his eyes returned to yours they were his normal welcoming brown.
“No, I shall probably become as tender-hearted as my father when each babe is welcomed. And dote on my wife for bringing such a miracle into the world,” he replied, that funny trick of the light occurring again and making your stomach inexplicably flip.
~
His father knelt to gather flowers for his mother, prompting Anthony to do the same. “I shall gather some for (Y/N). She was just admiring these daffodils the other day,” he spoke as he used his pocket knife to cut the loveliest blooms. “I believe I will do as you suggested and ask her -”
A thump behind him interrupted him.
“Father? Father!”
~
“Papa has inherited a piece of land in Scotland. We are leaving within the week to go there.” You stood in the door of what was now Anthony’s study. He looked so small and lost sitting there, his late father’s portrait above him.
He nodded his head briefly before looking back down at the papers before him that required his attention. “I shall see you when you return then. Safe travels,” he spoke in a clipped tone.
“You don’t understand. We are renting out Turring Manor and moving to Scotland.”
His head snapped up at this, but his eyes were distant and cold, his jaw set. There was a pregnant pause before he spoke, “Then I wish you all the best, Miss (Y/L/N). May God be with you.”
His terse farewell cut you like a knife. You swallowed the lump in your throat. “And with you, Lord Bridgerton.”
You fled the house before anyone could see your tears fall.
~
Anthony was in the middle of his set with Miss Sherwood when there was a commotion at the entrance to the ballroom. He looked to see a family enter, but they were blocked from his seeing their faces. Accepting defeat, he tipped the corners of his lips up in what Miss Sherwood would know as a fond smile as he resumed their dance, forgetting the interruption entirely as the dance came to an end.
“Brother! How was your dance with the lovely Miss Sherwood?” Benedict clapped him on the back and handed him a glass of punch as he joined him near the terrace doors.
He sighed, letting his austere Viscount visage fade just enough for Benedict to see how tired his brother was. “She is well-spoken and graceful.” He looked away from his brother and out towards the crowd. “She shall make a wonderful Viscountess.”
Benedict’s eyes softened but Anthony refused to look at him. “Will that be enough for you, Brother? A wife and a mother to your children?”
Anthony fixed a glare on Benedict that would have made a lesser man shrink back and admit defeat. “Isn’t that the point of the institution? I shall gain an heir and somebody to take care of my households while I provide her with a name and protection from material poverty.”
“Some might add love into that mission statement,” Benedict said with a hint of sarcasm.
Anthony paused, but his mind was more made up than ever. “I gave that notion up a long time ago, Brother. Love brings nothing but heartache,” he spoke, his voice devoid of any emotion.
The brother’s staring contest was broken by a familiar voice. “Lord Bridgerton, Mr. Bridgerton.”
The tall, dark haired men bowed. “Lady Danbury, how do you do?” Benedict took on the lion’s share of the social niceties as Anthony still had that far off look in his eyes. He was not attending to the conversation at all, but Lady Danbury did not grow offended at his slight.
“Very well, Mr. Bridgerton. I wanted to introduce you both to someone. Her family has just moved back from Scotland - just in time for the season,” Lady Danbury continued, bringing you forward.
“(Y/N)!” Benedict cried, grabbing your hand to place a kiss onto your glove.
Lady Danbury raised an eyebrow in surprise, but her eyes were calculating. “So you two know each other?”
“Miss (Y/L/N)’s family used to be our neighbors. We spent many a day together before they moved away,” Benedict explained. You were glad for it as your tongue was tied.
“That is wonderful. Then you two can help me introduce Miss (Y/L/N) to some other members of the Ton,” Lady Danbury smiled but fixed her eagle gaze on Anthony who had broken out of his stupor enough to gaze open-mouthed at you. “Her family would like to see her settled.”
Benedict’s easy smile flashed. “That will not be so hard a task for one as lovely as you, Miss (Y/L/N).”
You smiled wryly. “It may become a little more challenging when people hear this is by no means my first season out,” you spoke, with that familiar teasing lilt to your voice.
“Nonsense.” Your head snapped up at the almost angry outburst from the Viscount. He cleared his throat. “Many men will find you to be all the more acceptable for your age,” he said.
You smiled and Anthony made the mistake of looking at you - really looking at you - this time. “You are right, my lord. Many bachelors will be looking to find a wife before they themselves enter their dotage,” you teased, making Benedict laugh.
Anthony could not recover himself fast enough - perhaps tell you that were more beautiful than the day you left - before Benedict was offering you his hand and leading you towards the dance floor.
~
“Miss (Y/L/N), may I have your next set?” Anthony intercepted you the moment Benedict led you off the dance floor. He was spinning his signet ring on his pinkie finger.
“Of course, my lord,” you spoke even as he was already grasping your hand and leading you back onto the floor.
You spent half of the set in silence. You could tell even after all these years when Anthony needed time to think. You focused on the steps of the waltz and actively tried to ignore how it felt to be in his arms.
“How was Scotland?” Anthony finally broke the silence.
You blinked, startled. “It is a most beautiful country, my lord,” you replied.
He nodded. “Were there no eligible gentlemen there?”
Your brow furrowed. “Of course there were many,” you sputtered.
“Why did you not wed then?” The interrogation continued.
Your nostrils flared with your temper. “I do not believe that is any of your business, my lord,” you stated, a hint of anger behind your words. “I could say the same for you.”
“Yes, but I am a man; it is different.”
You scoffed, drawing the attention of some onlookers. “Yes, I suppose it is. I am but a woman. Therefore my only purpose is to wed and have babies.” You stopped dancing and broke out of his grasp. You stood with your fists clenched at your sides. “I heard you when you were near the terrace, my lord. I cannot countenance how much you have changed.”
He watched in equal parts anger and despair as you walked away from him and out the doors.
~
“Mama, what are these?” You fingered the petals of the daffodils that had been arranged in a beautiful bouquet.
“They must be from a potential suitor who saw how gracefully you danced with Benedict last night,” she replied, still not daring to mention the scene you had caused when you had stormed away from Anthony. “There is most likely a card in them, peach.”
There was indeed. You opened it to find a familiar neat hand.
I remembered these were your favourites, is all it read.
You closed the card and slipped it into your pocket. “They are just from Lord Bridgerton. An apology for our row.”
You purposely did not meet your mother’s eye so as not to see the look of disappointment that overtook her features.
~
“Who is that walking with Lady Danbury?”
“That is Miss (Y/L/N),” Benedict quickly informed the fair-haired earl he and Anthony had been walking with along with Miss Sherwood. “Would you like me to introduce you both? She is an old friend of our family.”
“Oh, yes, Mr. Bridgerton, that would be delightful!” Miss Sherwood cried. “Wouldn’t it be, Lord Bridgerton?”
Anthony nodded, his lips pressed in a thin line. “Most delightful.”
You and Lady Danbury had already come upon the group, and you paused. “Miss (Y/L/N), you must allow me to introduce my good friend Lord James Thatcher, the Earl of Wembey and Miss Sherwood of Bath.”
You curtsied politely to the both of them. “It is a pleasure to meet you both,” you said smoothly, years of good breeding taking over as your mind reeled. So this was the Miss Sherwood that he had spoken of.
“Miss (Y/L/N), would you care to join me on a small boat ride on the lake? It is the perfect weather for it,” Lord Wembey addressed you directly, startling you. You could feel Lady Danbury’s gaze on you.
“That would be most lovely, my lord,” you spoke as you took his proffered arm.
~
“Lord Wembey has invited us to attend the theater tonight with him in his box. Is that not lovely, my dear?” your mama crowed. This would not be the first time the handsome earl had singled you out in his attentions. They had become quite marked indeed.
“That is wonderful, mama,” you replied, not looking up from your needlework. “Shall I wear the yellow silk, do you think?” And the conversation turned back to fashion plates and fripperies.
~
The pall mall ball soared into the air - straight into the woods and definitely nowhere near the intended target. You were never good at pall mall, but what you lacked in talent you made up for in enthusiasm. And the annual tournament was no exception - especially since it was your first after returning.
“I suppose (Y/N) must return to the woods,” Eloise teased. “Hopefully you do not need to rescue her this time, Anthony.”
“Rescue her? Whatever do you mean, Miss Bridgerton?” Miss Sherwood asked.
You and Anthony both opened your mouths to explain, but Benedict beat you to it. “Many years ago, Miss (Y/L/N) was walking in our woods when she injured herself. Luckily for her, though, Anthony was there to help her home.”
“Oh, how wonderful! It was like fate brought you together,” Miss Sherwood gushed, just as Daphne had all those years ago.
Anthony cleared his throat and brushed his free hand down his pant leg, trying to dislodge an imaginary piece of lint. “Yes, well, it was a very long time ago, and I am sure the memory has been distorted until it seems much loftier than it is,” he spoke, more harshly than he meant in his flustered state. “Shall we play on? I believe it was your turn, Miss Sherwood.”
~
“I have noticed Lord Wembey and (Y/N) are spending a great deal of time together, Brother,” Daphne spoke as she entered Anthony’s study.
“Have they? I have not really noticed,” Anthony spoke with a clenched jaw, his pen arrested in mid air where it dropped a rogue dot of ink on the otherwise pristine page.
Daphne tilted her head and pursed her lips - a look she had perfected from childhood. “I find that hard to believe, Brother. Everyone expects him to propose - perhaps even tonight at mama’s ball,” she said. She huffed lightly as Anthony still did not look up from his work. “And people are also wondering why you have not proposed to Miss Sherwood yet.”
Anthony finally set down his pen and looked at her. “How are those two connected, Sister?” he ground out.
Daphne did not break eye contact. “Some people are saying that you have not proposed to Miss Sherwood because you hold a tendre for (Y/N),” she explained.
“Why would I care about the words of gossips?” Anthony growled.
Daphne leaned forward, her face set just as hard as his. “You may not care, but if you do not fix this, you could inadvertently tarnish (Y/N)’s reputation and ruin her chances at an excellent match.”
Daphne made her way back towards the corridor. “Maybe think about that, Brother,” she said before she shut the door behind her.
~
You rode fast and hard, uncaring of anything but getting away. You did not even care that the skies looked as if they would open up at any second and flood the ground beneath you. It would only be too fitting for your mood.
Another one.
You had rejected another perfectly suitable gentleman.
What was wrong with you? Lord Wembey was everything you were looking for in a husband. He was young, titled, wealthy beyond measure, kind hearted, well-read. He could do with some darker hair, but that was beyond his control.
You drew your horse up short at that thought. Were you seriously comparing Lord Wembey to Anthony - yes, for he was still Anthony in your thoughts - and finding Lord Wembey wanting?
You breathed heavily as that thought washed over you, and you wanted to scream.
As if your thoughts had summoned him, Anthony appeared on horseback. He cut an even more impressive figure than he used to, but that was no wonder. His eyes locked on you, and he turned his horse to meet yours.
And you fled.
You could feel him following you, his better knowledge of the ground and larger steed allowing him to gain ground rapidly. You could feel the promised rain start to pummel your back, but you pushed your horse faster. Eating up ground faster than you could see it as your vision was blurred with rain and tears.
“(Y/N), watch out!” were the last words you heard before your body slammed into the ground.
~
You opened your eyes to see it was already light in your bedroom. Your mother sat beside you. “Mama?” you rasped, wincing at how it made your head ache.
The lines on your mother’s face smoothed as she looked at you, before promptly starting to sob. “Oh, you are awake! We thought we had lost you forever!”
You scrunched your forehead as you tried to sit up. You were immediately assisted by two maids. “What happened, mama?”
“Oh, you would have been lost without him! Going out for a ride in horrific weather, what were you thinking?” your mother was working up into one of her fits of hysteria.
“Mama!” you broke her off. “Lost without whom?”
“Oh, Anthony, of course! He saw you get thrown from your horse, and he carried you all the way back on his. He personally saw that the doctor was fetched, too, wonderful boy,” she gushed.
You fiddled with the comforter, unsure of what to say.
There was a knock on the door. You turned your head to see Anthony standing there, fidgeting with his signet ring just as he did in the days immediately following his father’s death.
“I shall leave you two to have a moment of privacy,” your mother whispered as she stood.
You attempted to reach out to her, stop her, but she was too quick. She beckoned the two maids to follow her but left the door open for propriety’s sake.
Anthony did not move from his position near the door even after your mother vacated the room. The air felt heavy, and you were finding it hard to breathe. You smoothed the bedcovers although they were practically perfect.
“I am so relieved you are awake,” Anthony croaked, his voice raspy with disuse.
You steadfastly continued your study of the linens. “I am told I have you to thank for that, my lord.” You congratulated yourself on keeping your tone even.
“Will you stop that?” Anthony’s tone was sharp, and you finally looked at him fully. His face was drawn, and it was clear he had not shaved in a few days.
“Stop what, my lord?” you asked, genuinely confused.
He walked towards your bed, his face red. “Calling me that,” he practically spat.
You scoffed, not believing he was truly acting so childish. “Well, it is your title. It would be improper for me not to -”
“Marry me, then.”
You must have hit your head harder than you thought for you were certainly hearing things. “What?” you breathed.
Anthony knelt at your side and took your hand tenderly in his. “Marry me, (Y/N), please,” he implored. He shook his head. “I should have asked you ten years ago, but I thought I could prevent my heart from breaking by not letting it be touched.” His gaze fell on your joined hands. He cleared his throat. “I was a fool. I disregarded the fact that it had already been stolen from me.”
His warm brown orbs found yours, and you felt your heart climb into your throat. You took a rattling breath as your eyes stung with tears.
“Anthony…” you breathed.
No further words were needed as your lips joined in the kiss you had always been waiting for.
~
My Masterlist
#anthony bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton angst#anthony bridgerton fluff#bridgerton fanfiction#anthony x reader#regency#bridgerton#bridgerton season 2
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જ⁀➴ Angel Dust x male reader ๋࣭ ⭑
angel gets flirty with his boyfriend! <;3
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˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Details: ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
๋࣭ ⭑ Request: not requested
๋࣭ ⭑ Pairing: angel dust x male reader
๋࣭ ⭑ TW: suggestive, praise lol, angel being angel
๋࣭ ⭑ Word Count: 444
๋࣭ ⭑ Timeline: after episode 1
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Headcannons!!!
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ ● He would wink at you constantly, smirking as your face heats up.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ ● He would call you pet names and nicknames constantly. He does it so much you get concerned when he actually uses your name.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ ● Always has to have some kind of contact with you. Constantly has his arms around you, whether that be your waist, shoulders, arm, etc.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ ● He loves to cuddle you, it's like his favorite thing to do after work fr!!!
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ ● If you're all listening to Charlie's rambles he will just casually whisper suggestive things to you with a smile.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ ● Likes to flirt with you around other people because of how flustered you get.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ ● Loves to see his boyfriend embarrassed fr!!!
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ ● Hes not always flirting with you of course but yk gotta keep the fic on topic.
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You were listening to Charlie ramble about your guys exercise today, it was something about kindness or some shit like that. Honestly you love Charlie but she can talk for hourrrrrsss and so you mighttttttt be half listening to her. You look over at your boyfriend aka Angel Dust, god you're lucky to be calling one of hells biggest porn stars your boyfriend. He was on his phone looking just as bored as you, mindlessly scrolling before he seemed to notice your staring and looked at you. He immediately smirks at you and shifts closer until you're touching each other. He wraps one of his lower arms around your waist and smirks at the way your face slightly heats up.
“You okay darling? Your cheeks seem warm~” he says quietly with a wink. He knows you're just embarrassed and is clearly doing this to entertain himself. He just thinks you're the cutest. He pokes at your cheek when you lack a response before you slightly swat at his hand to get him to stop. “Awwww ignoring me now sweetcheeks? That's so mean~” you just playfully roll your eyes at that. He's so overdramatic but you love him for that. You try to focus back on Charlie and her explanation when suddenly you feel breath on your ear. You turn quickly to look at what you assume to be your boyfriend before Angel grabs your face and turns it back to Charlie. “Ah ah ah, you clearly wanna be a suck up and listen so don't let me stop you.” You feel your cheeks heating up as you can practically hear Angels smirk.
You keep trying to focus as you try to keep your breathing in check as Charlie doesn't even bat an eye, she's used to it at this point. “Such a good boy~” Angel whispers as you practically melt from that. He keeps whispering some… interesting things to you as you just become mush before you notice Charlie calling your name.
“(Name)..?” she says confused, “You okay?” You just simply nod quickly as Angel just keeps fucking whispering. “Okay well I would like you to demonstrate!” Oh Jesus Christ of course. Angel then pulls back from his relentless whispering.
“Yeah sweetheart! Why don't you demonstrate?” he smirks knowingly as you shoot a glare at him and he just stares back innocently. “What? Oh~ was somebody not listening?” you just grumble in response as Angel confidently gets up and demonstrates what you were supposed to. But you couldn't focus after what he had just pulled, he even sent a few more winks your way. God you couldn't wait for the exercise to be over.
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i love angel sm. like come on bbg i could treat you sm better ^ˇ^ also i promise im working on requests!!!
notes are appreciated!! d(･∀･)b
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#hazbin hotel#fanfictions#hazbin hotel x reader#x male reader#request#not requested#hazbin hotel angel dust#angel dust#hazbin hotel anthony#anthony#hazbin hotel x male reader#angel dust x reader#anthony x reader#story#fanfiction#romantic#gay#mlm#flirty#flirty angel dust
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enchanted.
pairing • anthony bridgerton x reader
fandom • bridgerton
synopsis • you and anthony don't need words to converse.
an • mildly inspired by my coke studio binging because they're bloody amazing.
maybe it was a gift. or a lucky connection. whatever it was, you were glad it existed.
being married to a viscount meant that society had expectations. graceful, poised, calm, beautiful, intelligent. and sometimes, just sometimes, thinks could get a little overwhelming. it was perhaps your hundredth ball this season. you had decided to assist anthony in his quest to marry daphne off to someone he deemed proper enough to marry his sister. of course, it took some severe looks from you for him to reluctantly agree to let daphne actually dance with interested suitors.
having managed to convince your husband to come away for a dance (something the dowager viscountess had been most grateful for, for it meant her eldest son was away while daphne continued her quest to find a husband)
but of course it would never be that simple.
anthony bridgerton was a very, very attractive man, and every single lady in the ton new it. you'd think that his marriage to another woman would have stopped the batting eyelashes and sultry gazes, but much to your chagrin, they didn't.
if anything, they increased. hushed voices greeted you at every turn, mamas looking at you with contempt and disfavour. you were the woman who had deprived their daughters of the title of viscountess.
you could feel their gazes burning holes in the silky material of your blue dress, matching anthony's waist coat and cravat. his hands rested lightly on your waist, and interlaced with your fingers. he couldnt believe he was married to a woman like you, a woman so sweet and kind and loving and smart.
oblivious to the vicious whispers, he leaned in close to press a kiss to your forehead, watching the way you tensed and your eyebrow creased.
"is everything alright my darling?" he asked, gently squeezing your waist.
a few feet away, lady cowper leaned around to whisper something into another lady's ears, a contemptuous smile playing on her lips, cruel eyes boring into yours.
anthony caught the way your eyes looked down after meeting lady cowper's, and the first glimmer of tears in your eyes.
he hated it.
he hated how even thought he was married to the woman he loved, the ton thought it acceptable to gossip and chatter about his marriage and make his beloved feel like she was worthless.
he was well aware of how much the comments and whispers hurt you, and that in turn hurt him.
gently, he reached up to caress your cheek, looking into your eyes.
your soft gaze met his warm, familiar one. it was safe, familial and homely.
i love you, he said, with the gentle touch of his hands. i adore you, he said, with the soft caress of your cheek. i need you, he said, with the burning passion in his eyes. i care for you, he said, with the grip on the blue silk that adorned your body.
i am yours, he said, when his lips descended upon your temple, tracing up to your forehead and then down to your nose, before pressing against the corner of your lips.
a public display of affection was a rarity for anyone, especially if it was a viscount. but anthony didn't care.
he was yours and you were his.
and if it took kissing you (something he enjoyed very much) to convince the vile ladies that he was truly enamoured with his amore, then he would gladly do it.
and so he pressed his lips to yours, sweet and plump, ignoring the sharp intake of breath from the old couple next to the both of you.
relaxing, you leaned into his touch ever so slightly before pulling back.
thank you, you said to him with the glimmer in your eyes. i love you, you said to him with the gentle pattern you were tracing on his cufflinks.
you didn't need to tell anthony what was troubling you.
he always knew.
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
HI OMG IM SO SORRY FOR NOT WRITING FOR SO LONG SO HERES JUST A TEENSY TINY LITTLE SNEAK PEAK OF A FIC IM GONNA POST SOON THAT ALSO WORKS AS A BLURB and I'm so sorry for being MIA for so long 😭
any feedback, comments, reblogs and likes are appreciated ♥️ much love and happy reading!!
TAGS -:
bridgerton - @freyathehuntress
everything - @roslastyles420
to be added to the taglist send me an ask or a dm 🥰
#anthony bridgerton#anthony bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton x female reader#bridgerton#bridgerton imagine#bridgerton imagines#bridgerton fics#the viscount who loved me#viscount x reader#anthony x reader#anthony bridgerton x you#anthony bridgerton blurbs#Anthony bridgerton x reader fluff#bridgerton blurbs#blurb
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'The innocence is gone'
#fypage#anthony bridgerton#simon basset#king george bridgerton#queen charlotte#bridgerton x y/n#tiktok edits#tiktok#bridgerton#foryoupage#anthony x reader#king george x reader#simon basset x reader
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By My Side // A.B.
Request: Could I have something fluffy? I’m think maybe the reader is from a lower class and is married to Anthony and she’s worried about not being a good enough viscountess. They’re getting ready for their engagement ball and Anthony gives her a pep talk? You’re the best!! - @whovianwholikesgirls
A/N: I’m sorry it’s taken so long to get to it, my love! But here it is, I’m sorry it isn’t longer - I hope you like it!!
Warnings: feelings of insecurity, worries, anxieties, lots of fluff and comfort, kissing, established relationship,
Word Count: less than 1k
Your hands couldn’t stop shaking. The nerves that had risen steadily all day were finally making themselves known in the tremor affecting your hands.
Exhaling shakily, you do your best to fasten the clasp of your necklace. A gorgeous piece, given to you by Anthony’s mother. The emeralds are only further accentuated by the champagne of your gown.
A further sigh of frustration leaves you as you fail once more in fastening the necklace.
“Let me,” A gentle voice cuts in, taking the necklace from your hands before you launch it across the room in despair. You meet the kind and caring gaze of your soon to be mother in law; her smile is comforting as she fiddles with the piece of jewellery.
“I thought I could do it,” You murmur, “But I can’t get my hands to stop shaking.”
“Nerves,” Violet says, smiling wider as she clasps the necklace and smooths her hands over your shoulders.
“I think it’s more than that,” You whisper, feeling the familiar burn of tears clog your throat. “I don’t think I can go out there and face all those people, whispering about Anthony’s choice in bride.”
Violet frowns. “My dear, whatever has brought this on?”
You blink against the rush of tears. “The closer we get to the wedding, the more it becomes clear just how lacking I am in class politics, gossip and graces. I don’t want Anthony to regret his choice in bride.”
Violet nods, taking the words to heart. “My dear, I shall not be a moment. Stay here and try to calm yourself whilst I make it all better.”
A watery but grateful smile crosses your face as you watch the beloved matriarch leave the room, the door clicking gently shut behind her. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, doing your best to calm yourself by trying not to think of the gathering crowd in the ballroom downstairs. Each one of them waiting to catch a glimpse of you - to make their judgement; to be judge, jury and executioner all in one.
You aren’t alone with your thoughts for long. The door opens once more, however it isn’t Violet that walks through the door.
It’s Anthony.
“Darling,” He greets, his voice concerned as he crosses the room to you.
“Anthony.”
“Mother told me. Darling, how could you think those things?”
Tears cling to your lashes as you face your beloved fiancé. Anthony kneels before you; his hands gripping your knees, his face the perfect picture of worry.
You sniffle. “It’s all I’ve heard since we announced our engagement. In the modiste, in the tearooms, when we promenade… It is so tiring. I love you beyond all reason, but I cannot help but worry whether this is a decision you’ll come to regret.”
The words leave you in a torrent; rushing out of you so quickly you barely have time to take a breath. The words get stuck in your throaty as you catch the devastation that passes over Anthony’s face.
“My love,” He whispers, “Had I known the full extent, I never would have organised tonight.”
“No,” You argue. “I’m glad you have, I love any moment I get to spend with your family but I worry for the impact on you.”
Anthony’s hands leave your knees to grasp your face. His eyes fix onto yours. “I don’t give a damn about the impact on me.” He all but spits. “That out there? It’s all pomp and fake, but what we have… the love we share and the adoration, that’s what’s matters.”
“I love you.”
“I know you do,” Anthony breathes. “I love you too… endlessly. You are who I want; I want my future to be utterly entwined with yours. I want the mornings and the evenings and the nights. Your class status means nothing to me. You will be a perfect wife and an incredible viscountess. I don’t care about the ton, I only care about you and how you feel and what you think.”
The man you love so entirely pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly. His lips seek out yours, kissing you thoroughly, pouring all of his emotions into the kiss. There was no denying his love and adoration for you now; there was no denying how well you fit, how perfect you moulded to the other. There would be no-one else for him as there would be no-one else for you.
Anthony pulls away, leaving you breathless as he places kiss after kiss to your cheek.
“Thank you,” You whisper, “Thank you for loving me.”
“Thank you for loving me,” He responds in earnest. Anthony kisses you again; a short, sweet kiss that has a smile crossing your face. His thumb brushes your cheek, relieved to see a genuine smile on your face.
“Do you feel ready to face the crowd waiting downstairs?” He asks quietly; lips brushing your hair.
“With you by my side, I can face anything.”
#anthony bridgerton x reader#anthony x reader#anthony bridgerton fanfiction#anthony bridgerton#anthony bridgerton imagines#fluff#anthony bridgerton fluff#bridgerton#bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton imagine
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Hi! your fics are amazing! can I request for Anthony bridgerton a marriage of convenience (+ enemies to lovers)? thank youuuu
Get Used to It
A/N: I'm thinking of writing a part 2 for this! Let me know what you think!!
Anthony Bridgerton irritated you to no end.
Your family and the Bridgertons had been close for as long as you could remember and you got along with all of the Bridgerton siblings, all except the eldest. You couldn’t place exactly what it was but there was something about him that annoyed you; and it was the exact same for him. In fact, the two of you disliked each other so much, you pretty much stayed away from each other unless you absolutely had to interact with each other.
Until now, that is.
‘No,’ you replied to your parents bluntly, shocking them at your blatant refusal. You understood that in the society you lived in, you didn’t always get a say in what happens in your personal life, but this was crossing the line.
‘Sweetheart, I know that the two of you don’t always get along but this is for the best, this is the best possible move that our families can make, combining two of the biggest families in the Ton,’ your mother tried to reason with you as your father stood in front of you.
‘Mother, I can’t,’ you insisted, ‘not him, please don’t make me. Choose someone else and I won’t complain just don’t make me marry him.’
‘(Y/N), stop this, your being silly. You and Anthony Bridgerton are going to be a perfect match,’ your father cut in, effectively silencing you. You looked between your parents and as you took in the stubborn expressions on their faces, your shoulders slumped in resignation, knowing that there was no point in trying to argue.
The next day found you and your parents going for tea at the Bridgertons and, naturally, you were seated next to your new fiancé. Sensing that the two of you were uncomfortable, your parents and Violet suggested that the two of you go for a walk along the grounds. At first, you tried to protest, but when you felt Anthony’s hand wrap around your shoulder, you got up from your seat, not even bothering to put up a fight.
The two of you were walking through the garden in silence, you trying to put as much distance between you and Anthony as you possibly could. It had gotten to a point where your silence was irritating him and he pulled you to a stop by grasping your wrist and turning you to face him.
‘So you’re not even going to talk to me?’ he asked, sighing heavily when you didn’t respond. ‘Look, I don’t like this any more than you do but we don’t have a choice, believe me, I’ve tried to get us out of this but I can’t, so get used to it and talk to me.’
‘I get that we can’t get out of it, I’ve tried too,’ you snapped, ‘so we can be civil in public but can we just make a deal not to bother each other if we don’t have to.’
A smirk began to form on Anthony’s lips as he took another step towards you, tilting your chin up to look at him. ‘You know, I’m going to be your husband,’ he mused, ‘and there are certain expectations between a husband and a wife.’
As his words trailed off, your eyes widened, having completely forgotten about what being married to him would mean. ‘No. We don’t have to do that at all,’ you replied, feeling your cheeks turning red when you heard Anthony’s chuckle. ‘Besides,’ you added, ‘how would it feel knowing you’d be sleeping with someone who doesn’t want you.’ You tried to hurt him with your words, instead, it seemed to do the exact opposite as you watched determination fill his eyes.
‘I have patience, Miss (Y/L/N),’ he said gently, the smirk still playing on his lips. ‘I’ll wait until I have you begging me to take you and, believe me, it will happen.’ He said, bending down to press a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth before turning and walking away, leaving you standing in the garden watching him, wondering what the hell you’ve just gotten yourself into.
#anthony bridgerton#anthony x reader#anthony bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgeron imagine#bridgerton
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The Viscount Who Deceived Me - Part 3
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | ...
Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Fem! Reader, Benedict Bridgerton x Fem! Reader
Warnings: none, I think
Word Count: 1.7K
a/n: I'm having a lot of fun writing this series!
You took a deep breath and stepped out of your carriage in front of the Cowper residence.
Closing your eyes and gathering strength, you straightened your shoulders and released all the pent up air in your chest.
"Are you alright, my dear?" your mama asked, taking your arm in hers.
You gave her your best smile, that still turned out small, and answered "I'm perfectly fine."
She didn't believe you, but nonetheless nodded. You both walked around the house and greeted people you knew on the way to the gardens.
Candles were lit, floral patterns were freshly painted on the grass, and everyone was dressed in varied tones of red, orange and black. The invitation had said it would be a blazing event and that the guests should dress in the hues of fire.
There was said to be a never before seen surprise to do with the theme at the end of the night, but many disapproved, thinking it was too provocative for a ball.
You had thought it might be fun and were very excited to see what this innovative surprise might be.
You abandoned your family greens for a burgundy dress that evening. Madame Delacroix had truly outdone herself with your dress this time. The light fabric along with your hanging sleeves made it look like your clothes were dancing with your every move.
"There are the Bridgertons." pointed your mama with a nod of her head.
Sure enough, you saw the whole family except for the little ones.
They spotted both of you as you made your way over. You smiled and curtsied politely, trying to avoid Anthony's gaze. He made it impossible when he took your hand in his and bowed to kiss it.
'Has he ever kissed her hand?' you wondered.
'Of course he has, he was already kissing her neck. He might have even kissed her lips.'
"How are you this evening?" he asked.
"Perfectly fine." you said, but your voice was too weak, pitch too high.
"Alright then, if that is all." Eloise took your arm in hers and started dragging you away "We will be on our way."
"Do not linger too far!" called out Violet, but the two of you were already gone.
You leaned closer to your friend and whispered "Thank you."
"You looked like you saw a ghost, I had you get you out." she answered, looking around.
You spotted Penelope in a corner grabbing a champagne flute from a passing servant and gestured to Eloise that you had found her.
"Ah."
The two of you walked towards her and she smiles when she spotted you.
"There you are! I was beginning to think I'd have to spend the rest of the night in the company of plants." she quipped.
"I wish I could have stayed home," huffed Eloise, crossing her arms and glaring at a gentleman who passed by looking at her "You know how much I despise these sordid events."
You chuckled and nudged her with your elbow "Are you not the least bit excited for this surprise they have planned?"
"I am excited to finish my book. I am excited to lay down in bed and sleep."
"What are you reading?" you asked, looking forward to the topic.
The three of you were the only women your age you knew that enjoyed reading. Most ladies of the ton found that improving your mind with extensive reading was not an accomplishment, but a waste of time.
'Men do not want a woman who has read Shakespeare, they want a wife who can entertain them with the pianoforte or their voice. Men want women who can embroider and paint, not someone to discuss politics with.' was what you had heard a gentleman saying while you were at the bookshop one time.
"Wuthering Heights." she answered excitedly.
"What is it about?" questioned Penelope before taking another sip of her champagne.
"Vengeance." she smiled.
"I am very much afraid of you sometimes." you said and Pen nodded.
"Thank you," she touched her heart "but, in all earnest, it is a very good book. The both of you should read it."
"Can I borrow your copy after I finish my current read?" smiled Pen.
"Of course, I shall drop it off as soon as I finish it. What are you reading now?"
"Pride and Prejudice." she said and you gasped.
"So am I!" you exclaimed excitedly, gaining a few disapproving looks from other guests.
"What do you think of Bingley? she asked with a smile and a slight flush to her cheeks.
"I think he reminds me a bit of Colin," you leaned closer to her ear "and you remind me a bit of Jane."
"Oh, hush." she chided, but her cheeks had turned crimson and she grinned "Do you really think so?"
"I do." you nodded and turned to Eloise "And you, my dear friend, are Elizabeth Bennet."
She rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged the corner of her lips. "And who might you be?"
"Me?" you stopped for a second to consider your options "Well, I suppose I must be poor Mr Collins."
They both laughed and everything seemed so normal. When you were like this with your friends, it was like all your troubles faded away.
You did not have to marry the man who betrayed you, you did not have to worry about taking one step out of line with the fear of having to be wed to the oldest man you knew, you did not feel nauseous and anxious like you had the rest of the day. With Eloise and Penelope, you could just be.
That feeling of peace faded all too quickly when Anthony appeared in front of you and bowed "May I have your first dance?"
All colour drained from your face and you had to clear your throat before answering "You may."
He wrote his name on your dance card next to the first song. A quadrille.
At least you would not spend the whole dance with him.
He offered you his arm and you took it, giving your friends one last glance. They tried to smile encouragingly, but it looked more like they were grimacing.
You took a deep breath as you stepped into position. Four couples, including yourselves, stood in rectangular formation. You and Anthony on one side, a married couple to your right, Philippa Featherington and Finch to your left, and Benedict with Cressida Cowper in front of you.
Your shoulders were hunched, your muscles tense. Anthony's hand felt cold in yours and you remembered how it had touched the opera singer.
Benedict locked eyes with you and his gaze was warm. His eyebrows furrowed and he mouthed "are you alright?"
You forced a smile and nodded just as the song started. He didn't look like he believed you, but didn't say anything else.
The string quartet continued as you turned to Anthony and bowed to each other, you repeated the same with Finch. While the couples at your side met in the centre and danced around one another, switching partners then back, you stayed in place.
Benedict continued looking worriedly at you and you gave him a small smile.
Anthony interrupted your silent communication when he leaned close to your ear and whispered "I have to talk to you. About us."
"Are you sure this is the right time?" you asked and inwardly cursed him for bringing this up.
"This is the perfect time." he said before taking you to the centre of the group.
You briefly grasped both of Benedict's hands before passing by him and meeting with Anthony again. He held your left hand on his and his right held your waist. You stayed that way as you walked around the couples.
"Have you received the flowers?" he asked, a hopeful look on his face.
Anthony had sent you roses after you left the house that morning. Your mother had said it was romantic, you thought it was generic.
"I have." you answered, nodding curtly at Philippa.
'Does he even know that my favourite flowers are tulips?' you contemplated sadly. 'I was so blind to think he loved me.'
"Good, good. And are they to your liking?" he probed and you contained an annoyed sigh.
"They are perfectly fine." you stated, looking anywhere else but him as you stepped into your starting place again.
"I know that you have not forgiven me for what I have done." he whispered solemnly.
Your eyes burned and you stared at Cressida's hem, the couples on each side of you switched partners.
'I will not talk about this, I will not cry in public, I will not make cause a scandal.' you repeated the words over and over in your head.
When you said nothing, he continued "I do not expect you to forgive me, but I would be grateful if you would give me a chance to explain."
"There is nothing to explain." you spat then took a deep breath to calm yourself "I already know everything."
"But you do not." he insisted "You do not know the half of it."
You scoffed "If that was merely half, I do not wish to know the rest at all."
Stepping forward once again, Anthony and Benedict switched partners. One hand on your waist and the other holding yours, he leaned forward and his lips brushed against your ear, breath tickling your neck.
"Save your next dance for me?" he whispered and chills ran down your spine.
"Yes." you nodded as you switched brothers again.
"If you will not let me explain," he said, alternating his feet in front of him to the rhythm of the quartet's melody "at least let me say that I will no longer be seeing Siena."
"I truly do not care." you said between your teeth, attempting to hide your anger behind a smile "Do what you will, it does not matter to me. Not anymore."
Anthony pulled your body flush to his by the waist, searching eyes boring deeply into your soul.
"You hate me." he stated gravely.
"I do not hate you." you sighed.
"You do, I have wronged you and you have every right to hate me. What I do not understand is why you are choosing to marry a man you now despise."
Your voice was small and desperate when you answered "It is not a choice, Anthony."
The song ended and you untangled yourself from him. You curtsied and turned to walk as far away from a furrow-browed Anthony as possible.
a/n: guys!!!! I got so many requests for a part 3!! I hope you are all enjoying reading this series as much as I do writing it! (ps: this was my first time writing dialogue during a dance, so please tell me if it was bad or too confusing)
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#anthony bridgerton x reader#bridgerton#benedict bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton x you#anthony bridgerton fic#anthony x reader#anthony bridgerton#benedict bridgerton fic#benedict bridgerton x you#benedict bridgerton x sis!reader#benedict bridgerton
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Affectionate Travels - Benedict Bridgerton
Word count: 1469
Summary: Newlyweds may find it hard to keep their hands to themselves, i'm not wrong am I not?
Warnings: S M U T
As the carriage rumbled along the muddy country road, you gazed out the window, lost in thought.
The honeymoon had been lovely, of course, a whirlwind of devotion and pleasure, as you and Benedict had explored the lush vineyards of Burgundy and the cobblestone streets of Paris.
But now that you were on your way back home to England, you couldn't help but feel a strange mix of anticipation and apprehension.
You wondered what life would be like now that you were truly married, and if your love would be able to withstand the trials and tribulations that were sure to come your way.
A gust of wind swept through the open window, carrying with it the scent of damp soil and the distant sound of laughter.
You turned your head to glance at your husband, who was buried deep in conversation with your coachman.
He looked handsome, even with his hair disheveled and his jacket unbuttoned.
A small smile played at the corners of your lips as you remembered your wedding day, when he'd first seen you in your wedding dress, his eyes widening with surprise and admiration.
You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, the leather upholstery creaking beneath you.
The ride back home was going to be long and arduous, but you were determined to make the best of it.
Maybe you could simply lean back against the squabs and close your eyes, relishing the gentle sway of the carriage and the feeling of being wrapped up in his arms.
You let out a contented sigh as you snuggled closer to your husband, your cheek resting against his broad shoulder.
You could feel the warmth of his skin through the fabric of his shirt, and his muscles tensed as you ran your fingers through his hair.
The rhythmic clickety-clack of the horse's hooves on the road soon lulled you into a peaceful sleep, and you didn't stir even when the carriage came to a stop.
It wasn't until you felt Benedict's lips pressed against your neck that you awoke with a start.
"What are you doing?" you murmured, your voice hoarse from sleep.
"Just making sure you're pleased," he replied with a chuckle, his breath warm against your skin.
You let out a small laugh, feeling a blush creep up your neck. "I am now."
He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "Good. Because I was thinking we could pass the time more...entertainingly."
You felt a shiver of anticipation run down your spine.
"Oh?" you breathed, your heart racing.
Benedict slipped his hand beneath your dress, his fingers tracing a path up your thigh. "Yes. Why don't we relish our last few moments to ourselves, in this carriage?"
You gasped, your body responding instinctively to his touch.
You arched your back, pressing yourself against his hand.
"Here?" you whispered, your voice trembling with desire. "Now?"
Benedict smiled, his eyes darkening as he gazed down at you. "Yes, my love. Right here."
With practiced ease, he shifted your positions, maneuvering you so that you were straddling his lap.
His other hand found its way to your breast, cupping it through your chemise.
You moaned, your hips moving in time with his thrusts as he guided his erection to your entrance.
The carriage rocked and swayed with the movement, but neither of you cared.
You were lost in the heat of the moment, the thrill of being caught in the act.
Your nails dug into his shoulders, your back arching as you felt the familiar pressure building within you.
As your lovemaking intensified, the sounds of the horses and the creaking of the carriage seemed to fade away, leaving you in a world of your own.
The leather upholstery beneath you groaned in protest, the carriage rocking wildly with each thrust.
Benedict buried his face in your neck, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fought to control his desire.
Your body trembled with each thrust, your muscles tensing as you neared the point.
The carriage rocked wildly, the horses whinnied in protest, but you were oblivious to anything but your own need.
Your movements became more frantic, more urgent, as the pleasure built within you.
You threw your head back, letting out a shuddering cry of release, your body arching tight against your husband's.
He followed soon after, his breath hot on your ear as he groaned out his release.
Your hearts pounded wildly, your skin flushed as you clung to each other, trying to catch your breath.
The carriage finally came to a halt, the horses' harnesses creaking and groaning from their exertion.
The air inside was thick with the scent of your sweat and the tang of your lovemaking.
You leaned back against the squabs, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.
You looked up at your husband, your eyes locked, and felt a rush of affection and contentment wash over you.
"I think," you whispered, "we should do that more often."
Benedict smiled, wiping the sweat from his brow.
"Yes," he agreed, "I think you're correct."
He reached up to straighten your hair, his fingers brushing against your cheek.
"Perhaps," he continued, his voice low and husky, "when we get home, we could find a more comfortable spot to continue our celebration."
You felt a shiver of anticipation run down your spine.
"I think that's a wonderful idea." you glanced out the window, taking in the familiar scenery as you pulled into the driveway.
"It's good to be married to you, Benedict."
He smiled, leaning in to kiss you. "Likewise, my love."
As the carriage came to a halt, the driver opened the door and stepped down, coming around to help you descend.
You took Benedict's hand, allowing him to help you down from the carriage.
The air was cool and crisp, carrying with it the scent of autumn leaves and wood smoke.
You made your way up the steps to the front door, your hands still clasped together.
The butler, Mr. Jenkins, opened the door at your approach, bowing slightly. "Welcome home, my lord, my lady."
Benedict nodded in reply, his eyes never leaving your face.
"Thank you, Jenkins." He glanced around, taking in the grand entrance hall with its marble floors and ornate ceiling. "I trust all is in order?"
"Yes, my lord. Everything is just as you left it."
You continued through the hall, the servants falling into step behind you.
You felt a sense of contentment wash over you as you walked hand-in-hand with your husband, the warmth from your lovemaking still lingering between them.
You couldn't help but wonder what other adventures you would share, what other memories you would create together.
As you entered the grand sitting room, you were struck by its cozy atmosphere.
A fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the rich wood paneling and softly lit sconces.
A plush rug covered the floor, the furniture arranged invitingly around it.
You could almost imagine curling up on the sofa with a book and a cup of tea, spending the afternoon lost in the pages.
"Would you like something to drink, my lady?" Mr. Jenkins asked, interrupting your thoughts.
"Perhaps some tea or a glass of wine?"
"Wine sounds lovely, thank you, Jenkins," you replied.
You glanced at Benedict, who nodded in agreement.
You exchanged a smile before the servants withdrew, giving you a moment of privacy.
You moved closer to the fireplace, warming your hands by the dancing flames.
The room was beautiful, but it was the feeling of being with Benedict that truly made it special.
You looked up at him as he stood at the window, gazing out at the garden beyond.
There was a distant look in his eyes as if he were lost in thought.
"Are you alright, dearest?" you asked softly.
He turned to you, a small smile on his lips.
"I was just thinking about the future, my dear. All the possibilities that lie before us." He walked over to you, taking your hands in his.
"I can't wait to see what we'll accomplish together."
You felt a surge of affection for your husband. Despite your differences, you complemented each other perfectly.
You knew that your partnership would only continue to grow stronger with time.
"I'm looking forward to finding out, Mr. Bridgerton," you said, leaning into him.
"And I think we should start by finding that comfortable spot we were talking about earlier." you winked, your lips curving into a mischievous grin.
Benedict chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
"I believe I remember what you had in mind. Very well, my lady. Lead the way." He took your hand, entwining your fingers as you began to wander through the sitting room, searching for the perfect spot to continue your celebration.
#anthony bridgerton#bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton x reader#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton imagines#bridgerton imagine#bridgerton netflix#colin bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton x reader#bridgerton#anthony x reader#bridgerton fanfiction#benedict bridgerton#bridgerton x you#bridgerton x female reader#bridgerton x y/n#x reader#colin bridgerton#anthony bridgerton x you#eloise bridgerton
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So I hardcore headcanon that Angel Dust’s Angel!Reader lover is short, like not just shorter then Angel Dust himself but like short in general.
I just like the thought of short (like 5’5 or shorter maybe?) Angel!Reader being so will to throw down with someone who’s 7’0.
That is so cute 😩.
Angel!Reader would 100% beat Valentino's ass or anyone's ass if they found out Angel Dust was hurt by them.
Valentino being afraid of Angel!Reader, though it becomes worse when you decide to clip your wings to stay with Angel Dust that Valentino won't even step in a room if he see's you.
While Angel Dust teases you, he still loves you more than anything and is so happy to have found someone like you.
#angeldust x reader#angeldust x you#angel dust#angeldust#angel dust x reader#angel dust x you#angel dust x y/n#anthony x reader#male!reader#hc#hcs#hazbin hotel angel dust#angel dust hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x y/n#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel x reader
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‘ DEAD WEIGHT .
Anthony Lockwood x Female Reader
SYNOPSIS. the reader’s skills got rusty and with anthony breathing down her neck all the time, well, things that were better off unsaid were spoken. that’s when four became three. ( 6.87k words )
CATEGORY. angst. slight enemies to lovers ( not completely lovers because i write and stick to slowburn. )
WARNINGS. anthony being a total dickwad. usage of profanities. off the timeline. netflix series based. usage of “y/n”. lots of parallelism in statement structures.
NOTE. characters are aged up. written in third person’s omniscient point of view. room add-up for plot purposes.
REMINDER. this fic is written and copyrighted by ©fleetingvow on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other platforms without my permission.
TAGS. @superpositvecloudshipper
𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗦𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗪𝗔𝗦 shrouded in a misty veil. The room had turned bleary as soon as she stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in her bathrobes. She closed her eyes and opened them again in a desperate attempt to regain her composure. When her feet led her to her room, she felt the pull stronger than what she had been feeling when she was washing up. Y/N gripped the doorknob and opened the door with a groan, and then there was a voice. A mere whisper to her ears.
“Help me!” She turned around, only to see no one but the pen she picked up from a previous home many months ago, mistaking it for the one Lockwood handed. It was surely just her imagination. They already contained the source from the previous mission, destroyed it even. George had done his research and there was only one soul that haunted the home. She was sure no other soul was left behind. Besides, Y/N made sure to set up a schedule to return the object to its rightful place.
However, just now . . . she felt as though it wasn’t just her presence that graced the room. Her eyes scanned her surroundings. There was no one, nothing. Why was it getting harder to breathe? The ringing, they were back again, but this time, it was higher in pitch and volume. She put both palms on her ears in order to block the noises, but it was too loud!
That was until she heard the knock on the door followed by the voice of someone more human, natural in his voice, “Prepare quickly, Y/N. We’re moving swiftly tonight, we have two missions!”
She didn’t respond. It didn’t seem like it mattered when his footsteps were already fading. The girl slowly ran her fingers through her damp hair, taking a deep breath to calm herself down. It was just her imagination — that ringing. But there was a protruding thought that maybe, there was something wrong with her, and she couldn’t place whatever it was.
Although, there was something far more important than that. She needed to be present for this other case. Y/N had been lacking for the past few days, and she was under the pressure of redeeming herself to prove something to Lockwood.
And she was going to prove it well.
THAT HURT! God, it hurt so much! There was no other thing in her mind than how much it felt, causing electric shock through her body, wanting to rip her ears out to just. get it. to stop!
“Fuck!” Y/N exclaimed, losing her grip on her rapier therefore also failing to protect Lucy from the ghost that hovered before them. The clang of the blade on the floor only triggered a louder sound in her ears, putting her mind into shambles as she scrambled to the floor to regain possession of her weapon.
Before she could, however, Lockwood had already slain the ghost himself, buying them more time to pull themselves together. “Lucy!” Lockwood hurriedly rushed to her aid as she panted, refusing the help Anthony was offering.
“Y/N?” Lucy called, her voice combined with worry over the girl’s well-being. “Are you okay?”
It didn’t look like she was, but it was certainly better than before. The ringing had stopped, and what was left was an overcoming fear of when it will occur again. Her forehead was covere din beads of sweat, her mouth gasping for air, and clammy hands clutching the handle of her sword.
She had, in fact, once again failed to redeem herself. And what had she done? Make a complete fool out of herself to Lockwood who only looked at her with disappointment painted oh-so-vibrantly all over his face.
“I covered the source with the net!” George excitedly announced as he made his way into the bedroom where everyone was. It had been a rare occurence before that Lockwood allowed George to do this type of work, but since he’s proven himself to be the hero in most scenarios, he trusted him.
Y/N glanced up at George. She wasn’t mad at him. As a matter of fact, she was grateful for him, not just for containing the source, but also putting an end to the tension in the room. “Are you guys okay?” he proceeded to question.
She stood up from the floor and lowered her head before mumbling, “We’re fine.” She then walked past him swiftly and out of the room with shame as her feet led her to the gardens of the home.
“She’s definitely not fine,” George breathed out. Both of his companions looked at him in a questioning manner. He shrugged, “She’s been acting odd for the past few weeks - months, even. Am I the only one who noticed?”
“You’re always the one to notice something, George.” Lucy commented with a smile. Anthony did not appreciate the conversation, no matter how little. He’d much rather they didn’t talk at all.
“Stay here. I’ll talk to her,” Lockwood ordered. George and Lucy nodded followed by exchanged glances with subtle wide eyes. They knew it was not a good idea Lockwood would follow her, but what could be done? They just hoped he wouldn’t make an arrogant fool of himself again.
“WHAT WAS that?” Y/N’s ears suddenly perked up from the voice. She plastered a sarcastic smile as she replied, “You found me, then.”
“This is no time for foolish remarks, Y/N. What was that all about? You had it. Lucy could have been hurt! You could have gotten hurt! Do you realise what you’ve just done?” Anthony exclaimed. The leaves crunched from under his feet as he marched his way forward to the girl.
“You’re saying that as if I’ve done it intentionally. Is that what you think I do? Sabotage the team?”
“I’m not saying that,” he frustratedly protested, facepalming before placing his hands on his hips, his coat pushed back. “What I’m saying is for you to pull yourself together. Where are you, really? This, this state of yours is going to get us all killed!”
“Lucy’s fine! I’m fine!”
“You both wouldn’t be if I hadn’t stepped in and you had made an absolute mockery of yourself in the situation! You were flailing! Can I even trust you with simple tasks?”
“You call fighting off a type two, simple?” She fired back, trying her best to hold back her anger when she knew she had fucked up.
“We’ve done it before! We’ve dealt with harder cases. What’s going so wrong now?”
“Of course you’d say that! Everything’s easy for you, right?” Lockwood was taken aback by her words, yet instead of processing her words and taking it as a reminder of his past conflicts, he took offence of it, triggering his sense of authority and anger. “If it’s so easy, why don’t you just work with yourself? If you’re so obsessed with perfection, why don’t you eliminate mistakes and put down the team? Because that’s you, right? You’re the one who’s always so bloody perfect at everything!”
His eyebrow twitched as he blinked at her, his face getting softer, yet still inconsiderate as he lifted his head to the side and clenched his jaw. Anthony momentarily fixed his gaze on the floor before placing it back to her. His voice had become monotonous. Cold.
“If you hate me so much, why don’t you just leave the team?”
There was a moment of silence. If the rapier didn’t pierce her heart before, it definitely has now, but it wasn’t the steel sword that did its damage. It was those exact words he had uttered so confidently in her face. There was no hint of regret there when she searched his eyes. There was absolute nothingness.
Suddenly, the coldness of the wind got into her eyes — did it really? Or was she just finding an excuse to mask the reason behind her slightly blurry eyes. Y/N blinked and swallowed her spit in order to remove the lump in her throat. It was useless. She nodded slightly, her face stiff as she tried to muster up her thoughts to create a better expression.
But there was no better reaction.
“What?” she asked for confirmation. Lockwood slightly shifted in his position, standing upright. He looked at her eyes and down to her shoes slightly, taking the sight of the disappointed girl. He swallowed his spit, licking his lips.
“You heard me.”
“So, that’s it then?” she mumbled, trying her best to disguise the betrayal in her voice.
“That’s it.” Anthony replied in a stern tone, not leaving her eyes. “Don’t be so surprised now, Y/N. If it helps you feel any better, maybe you could still start somewhere — just not here.”
“You’re a fucking dickwad, do you know that?!” She yelled.
“I’m doing this for the team.”
“Like shit you are!” She exasperatedly gesticulated her hands in the open air and continued, “You think George and Lucy would fucking applaud you after they find out? I thought we were family! What now? I fuck up, and suddenly I’m gone for good?”
“You could just say n—”
“No, because that’s not it, isn’t it?” She bitterly interjected and combed her fingers through her hair irately. “You’ve hated me from the start! You ignore me every chance you get, but when you’re not, you berate me! You look at me as if I’m about to fail, and you undermine me every single time!”
“I don’t undermine you. I look at you, and I see transitions of how things start and how things end,” he started, chest heaving up and down from his bottled feelings of anguish and rage, not to her but to himself. “I don’t know what it is about you that makes me doubt whatever it is I doubt. You were good at what you do, but you’ve been lost for the past few months. We don’t have a hold of you now, and you’re not telling us anything. To be completely blunt and forward, Y/N: Whenever you’re present in a case, something goes wrong.”
Even to herself, she could admit that he had a point. Every mission that she had with her friends, everything ends up a little bit too complicated than it should. She did feel like she was the cause for the performance of the agency lately. That information itself made her heart sink at the bottom of the pit, pushing her to another depth as he spoke once again.
“You’re a dead weight.”
That statement felt a little hypnotic that it proceeded to ring in her head. Now that was it, why did she feel defeated now? She felt as if he just called her useless. Huh, maybe that’s what she was. Completely and utterly useless for the best agency London has ever seen. She was the dead weight in their group, the failure.
“I just haven’t been myself. I—” Then, there was a silver streak of water that cascaded down her face. She cleared her throat and looked away, wiping the tear with the back of her hand as she sniffled and blinked away the glinting waterfall threatening to spill. “I’m sorry.”
Anthony’s chest felt different with that statement. His eyes that showed no remorse softened at this current sight of her, but there was something at that moment that told him to resist it. He had to stand firm, and he knew to himself he’d do just about anything for the sake of the team, even if it had to be removing Y/N from it.
The thought of questioning whether this decision was right began to rebuke him.
“Y/N, I’m only doing this for the best of everyone’s well-being.”
“You already said that,” she replied and took a deep breath, avoiding eye contact with him. Then, she shrugged her shoulders and laughed to herself in bitter humour. She unsheathed the rapier from her side and took a few steps forward to the boy who gave her a puzzled look.
She took his hand and offered the handle of her blade, closing his palm with hers. Y/N forced a smile on her lips, looking up to meet his eyes. They were close.
Just. This. Close.
Y/N had seen his eyes numerous times before, but under whatever spell, she never got tired of it even despite the sharp daggers it threw at her. Her heart shattered once more, this soft gaze she’d sometimes thought was an illusion made the broken shards leap hopelessly that it left her dizzy for another minute or so.
The wind in the garden gently whispered.
Anthony felt this feeling before, but he dismissed it just like he’d always done. It was something that he believed to be unworthy of his attention. If he looked the other way, what of the path that he worked so hard for?
“Y/N, I—”
“I’ll be gone by morning. Don’t tell the others . . . for me please, would you, Lockwood?” She whispered. Goddamn it, she was going to go! Anthony couldn’t do anything. His body and soul were both locked in the position of looking at her, paralysed as he tried his best to catch his breath. His eyes quickly paid a glance to her lips before switching back to her eyes.
He hummed in response.
There was a palpable tension in such an open space. The girl decided to have had enough of it, leisurely stepped away without breaking eye contact, and walked off with his head turned to watch her figure fade away with the distance.
SHE SAID SHE’D be gone by morning. It was 3 AM, and he wasn’t sure what morning she was referring to, but surely she’d use more time for rest and packing her things. It wouldn’t be so early. He paced back and forth, almost creating a six feet deep grave of his own in front of her door, his hands secured in his pockets. His furrowed eyebrows almost reached each other to knit a whole line on his face, but he soon stopped with a sharp exhale.
Anthony realised how wrong he might have been. The fact that both Lucy and George don't know anything made him feel even more guilty knowing damn well they would have his head and ego once they learn of what he did. Not only that, he felt incessantly bad for being cruel with his choice of words without consideration to what Y/N’s explanation could offer. To be completely honest, he wasn’t even thinking straight! He had no clue where the idea of eliminating her from the team came from.
His mind hadn't been at peace nor was it sober in his library when they got back home. Y/N shut herself in her room after an awkward dinner in which they both pretended everything went well. Lucy and George, bless their poor naive innocent souls, seemed to buy it with Lucy feeling a little bit hesitant.
It was 3 AM, and he was at her door.
At her door.
His hand slightly lifted to knock her door, but it stopped mid-air. Lockwood sighed, pulling his hand back in his pocket with a shake of the head. He’d been horrible, and disturbing Y/N’s peace no matter how fleeting, would be more displeasing.
Anthony’s footsteps faded with Y/N listening intently behind the door, wiping her silent tears. He was outside her door for half an hour during her moment where she wrote her letters individually to the members of the team. She didn’t want to open the door, but her desire to speak to him drove her to a decision that if he knocked, she would let him in. If he asked that she returned, she would.
But alas, he didn’t do any of those, leaving her to conclude that his decision was final, and his words were deeply meant and intended. It was her fault, after all.
And maybe the agency would be better off without a dead weight.
WHEN MORNING CAME, Anthony was jolted awake when George shook him back to consciousness in the library lit with the sunshine pouring through the window. As soon as he fluttered his eyes open and saw the light with George’s frantic silhouette, it had been a clear indication that he was too late.
“Y/N’s gone!”
There was an unpleasant sensation in his stomach, bad butterflies taking control over his system. He quickly sat up and ignored the pounding headache he gained overnight. Anthony turned to George, “Since when?”
“I don’t know. Lucy called her for breakfast but she didn’t answer. She never didn’t answer! So we went up there to check, but all her things were gone.”
He got to his feet and went straight to Y/N’s provided room where all traces of her existence were never found, except for the envelopes clutched in Lucy’s trembling hands. Her face wasn’t warm and welcoming at all as she furiously questioned, “What did you do?!”
“She’s left the agency!” Lucy exclaimed.
“Why?” George asked in response.
“Ask Lockwood. Apparently, he’s the one who talked to her last night after the mission.”
“What are those?” Karim gestured towards the envelopes Lucy had. She raised the letters with their names engraved in jet black ink.
“See for yourself,” she answered and shoved each of the letters to the designated receivers. The girl then furiously marched out of the room, leaving behind both George and Anthony to themselves. Karim opened the correspondence and trailed his eyes along the letters scribbled on the tear stained paper, his face growing bitter word for word as he finished.
The boy turned to his companion, “You’re unbelievable.”
Lockwood wore the same frown he wore in front of her door a couple of hours ago. George left him in the room to self-reflect between the four walls of nothingness but the lingering memories of who used to occupy it.
He looked at the letter, opening it as he scanned the wirds carefully written yet stained with tears that dried on the ink that spread on the fibres of the paper.
“Anthony,
I didn’t tell them, if that’s what you’re worried about, but I’m not sure if my explanations will suffice. I know Lucy and George are smarter than you give them credit for. Whatever happens, I want you to continue the agency with them. They’re your only family left.
I loved the memories with you and the others and I will continue to treasure them until it’s my prized possession that you will have to seek one day. I hated you for a while, and maybe I hate you now, but there’s nothing but the truth that you make a great leader, and I hope your passion will lead them to the path they want, and their loyalty will not banish even after eternity.
For a while, Lockwood, your home had been my home. Our home, but after tonight, it seems as though you gave the key to the wrong person. I hope you will find a better one worthy of the team.
Do not look for me. I will find a good place to find myself and start again and recover. And once I recover, I swear to George and Lucy, I will write. Take care of them.
I’m sorry,
Y/N.”
He wanted to crumple that letter, but that’s all he had of her. Each passing second that he stared at the empty room made him feel guiltier and guiltier. The blood in his veins rushed as he turned crimson with rage. Anthony had never been one to lose composure of himself, especially when he was angry, but it was different this time.
He knew to himself that he blew it. He had fucked up and now he was not the only one that was paying. Because of his arrogance, the house lacked Y/N’s annoying laughter, her awkward morning small talks and idle chatter, the familiar creaks on the wooden stairs because of how loud her feet become when she’s excited for a new case.
Her seat remained empty, devoid of the girl's presence. Her favourite cup had been set before the chair without any mark or stain of the hues she usually wore on her lips. The smell of coffee George brewed earlier for her wafted in a room, serving as an object to rub it in their nose of the bitter tension she’d left behind in that very room.
Lockwood cleared his throat, “Our next mission, er.”
Lucy’s scoff caught his eye, “Give us a break, Lockwood.” She put her mug down, her eyes piercing through his, speaking, “When will you ever learn to not only care about yourself?”
“Lucy, not now.”
“Yes, now.” George intervened. “No one knows why Y/N left, except you. Her family wouldn’t want her back even if she writes that on her Christmas list. You know it to yourself too, that’s a dumb excuse.”
“She left the agency because she made her choice,” Anthony monotonously replied, and quickly regretted it as he sighed and spoke again in a much gentler, more emotion-filled voice, “It was the best for us all.”
“Did she make that choice, or did you? No wonder she left.” Lucy mumbled as she was not having any of it. She slammed her feet on the floor and stood up to leave the kitchen with George leisurely following behind.
Y/N TOOK IN THE rotten interior of the home. Everything was mouldy and abandoned. It was an odd thing, for sure. The house was supposed to be sold months ago! Why was it deprived of human presence? Something was not right, especially with that voice slowly creeping in her ears again.
She wasn’t alone in that place.
“Help me,” she heard. There was a guess there. A guess she’d been doubting for weeks but knew to be believed by her subconsciousness. The girl grabbed the pen from her pocket and sighed, closing her eyes to allow itself to commune with her.
“What do you want me to do?” She questioned.
It was a bad idea, but it was daylight. The power of this type of entity, whatever it is, should be weak by now. Y/N felt herself being pulled in a deep void, forcing all her energy to go down with the force. It was her mind that felt lightweight and then her body with static. All sounds from her surroundings started to become collectively like the sound of electric waves until it was an absolute nothingness.
Just then, an ornate box appeared among the fog, its gold embellishments covered in crimson hues, dripping on the now visible desk. The event happened so fast, and what was once a flurry of foggy mess was now a warm room lit with glinting candle lights from above the ceiling before it turned into a ghost of the olden times. The doors were being pounded from the other side, followed by voices who furiously shouted a name.The girl looked around to see a cadaver on the floor, severely tortured and bloodied. Then, she looked at herself, taking note of how her hands were covered in the same liquid as on the floor.
“What happened here?” she whispered to herself in a frantic tremble.
“Give us the box!”
She looked at the object now in her hands. Every inch of her appearance had changed into someone else, feeling their sense of determination to hide and clutch the treasure in her possession. She turned frantically to look for a way out, but just as she was about to run for it, the door burst open and there came three men, one with a pen in his hand.
“You’ve signed the agreement my father’s given you!” She didn’t know why or how, but it must have been the ghost that kept haunting her that said it.
“Will it matter any longer?”
Just as she screamed, the world had turned into a fading vision. Y/N woke up with a gasp, finding herself on the floor with the piles of stones and rubbles, debris from the structure of what once was a home of an aristocrat. There it was again, that ringing. The girl groaned from the consistent hearing disturbance.
She stood up, only to find herself in an entirely different room. Her eyes made a quick scan of the structure. That was when she found an unusual glint inside the crack on the floor. “So that’s why.”
The death glows would have been seen by Lockwood before, but he didn’t, only because the home had been renovated long before it got destroyed again. The floor had been covered by another layer of floor.
Then, a glint caught her eye, the moonshine had reflected its light where she saw the intricate box. Quickly, she crawled over to it and pulled it out of the crack with force. The box was the same as before, only old and rusty. The surface was covered in dust and old traces of blood.
The ringing stopped, replaced by a series of the hushed voices of a woman. Y/N flailed side by side, falling on her knees as she crawled to grab ahold of the intricate box covered in dust and other filthy muck. “What is this for? What should I do?”
That’s when she realised the sun had finally set and she was in deeper trouble than she was. A glowing light appeared behind the door frame as it continued to hide. Her breath hitched, grabbing ahold of the rapier she managed to steal from Anthony’s library.
“I will help you! You’ve tormented me enough,” she mumbled, holding the rapier up as a barricade between her and the ghost.
The ghost let out a deafening shriek as it frowned at her, hovering through the air before her eyes.
“I promise!” Y/N exclaimed. “Just let me help you!”
However, it was not easy making deals with a dead-undead visitor made up of ectoplasm and substantial despair and anger toward the living. The ghost charged forward, making her lucky enough to move out of the way. She yielded the sword, and the luck of the draw struck again when she managed to hit the visitor with her iron blade, buying her more time.
The girl opened the box, revealing a pile of papers and an old silver pocket watch eaten away by old age and exposure to oxygen and insects that created their own home within the chest. The cobwebs were occupied by several tiny eight-legged creatures causing her to cringe as she dropped the box and shook the spiders off.
Upon the contact of the crate with the floor, a glowing spot appeared.
She looked at the ghost of the woman that haunted her. It stopped mid-air for a while before continuing with her new entertainment of tormenting the girl more. Y/N’s eyes widened at a sudden realisation.
That was it!
For the first time in a long time, she finally felt like she wasn’t being an absolutely bloody idiot. “I have to destroy it, don’t I? For you to find your peace, is that it?”
That was when she frowned and muttered under her breath, “But that’s not your source.”
Then, her ego was kicked off the curb with her guts. A hand reached out from the glowing spot on the floor. “That’s someone else’s source!” She raised her rapier and quickly wielded it to hit the box, preventing the ghost from coming out of it.
The first visitor shrieked again and charged forward as Y/N fumbled on the floor, miserably looking for the pen. Her breathing was audibly fast, waving her sword desperately through the air to ward off the ghost that had been restless in chasing after her.
She scanned the cracks, there was nothing. Then, under the desk, nothing. That’s when she noticed the object she sought right next to an empty cobwebbed shelf on the floor next to a book.
Y/N removed her sword out of the way, darting towards the pen to grab ahold of it, quickly swerving to get rid of the visitor. After that, she hit the box again and once the glow disappeared, her fingers found themselves holding onto the chest for dear life. She put the smaller object in it, and placed it between her side and arm, her other lifting the rapier up.
Dumb! Literally dumb!
Her foot got caught in a lifted crack on the floor, causing her to plant herself on the floor. A groan emitted from her lips as she tried to ease the pain on her chest. Upon realisation, she swiftly turned and held her sword up, fighting the phantom.
“My ears hurt from your constant shrieking!” she yelled.
Due to the movement of her arms, the box had slightly drifted away from her clutch as she busied herself warding away her enemy. “I even wonder why it isn’t Lockwood that you could have bothered! You would have been at peace by now, but no. You chose the weakest link! I’m practically useless, and I might possibly be losing my talent! Now you’re the one who’s mad? I didn’t choose me! You’re the one who screwed up!”
Maybe she was the mad one, in different terms. She was talking to a ghost, for Chrysler’s sake! Even worse, having a verbal feud with it!
If only Lockwood could see her now.
That was until the ghost disappeared after a swift, almost invisible lightning speed strike. She gasped for air and turned around to see what the cause of it was, but no. What’s better is to destroy the sources and get peace once and for all. She sat up and crawled over to the object, grabbing a nearby rock and destroying it for good. The pained wailing finally died down as she loudly caught her breath, exhaustedly falling on her back with her sword clattering on the ground.
“L/N!”
That voice. That god-awful voice. She closed her eyes shut, unable to open them for a second due to her strong will to rest and recover. Look, now she was even hallucinating Lockwood calling her by her last name. It was impossible that he was there, and even if he was — she laughed slightly. He couldn’t be. If he was, she would tear the world apart just to get away from him. She wanted to be millions of miles away from him, avoiding his gaze, getting rid of his smell, and that stupid voice with that arrogant tone of his. He had crushed her dreams and hope like it was nothing, even with just a brief conversation, everything that she clung to in that agency faded in one statement that she wished she never heard from him.
But good riddance, right? At least now she knew it was the wrong agency for her. She wasn’t cut out for this kind of work.
“L/N.”
“Can voices just stop — ” she angrily mumbled, almost in a slur of words, “ — pestering me all the time? Can I just have peace for once? Is that too much to ask for?”
“If they stopped now, you wouldn’t hear what I have to say now, would you?” Now that was it. The girl’s peace had been completely shattered once and for all with that single question built in a rhetorical structure. Her eyebrows now knitted together — an exaggeration, but they almost did. Just a little smidge and they’d be meeting. It couldn’t possibly be him, could it? Her heart fluttered both bitterly and in a way that she hoped that there was hope, but knowing Anthony, he was only here as a figment of her hostile imagination. He wasn’t truly here. That would be asking for too much — only she didn’t ask anything to send him here.
“I’m sleep-deprived,” she muttered under her breath.
It took Lockwood his whole body and soul to stop himself from smiling. He thought he wouldn’t see her here, that she would be off somewhere else, and not the usual destination she would go to whenever she was upset.
A hallucination: that’s what he was to her as of this moment. She still had her eyes closed, refusing to open her eyes, and what was worse was the constant question whether she refused to see the disappointment of a world with Lockwood there or the opposite.
Then, that’s when she felt a gentle contact at the back of her neck, slowly lifting her from the ground. Panic covered her bones and took over the nerves to her brain as she mentally screamed repetitively.
She quickly opened her eyes to see him kneeling just before her, holding her as if she was a fragile glass compared to all that he's seen in his entire life in his basement.
He was there.
He was real.
He was touching her.
And he was — "Your hands are cold."
"I don't care, L/N."
There was something different. All the passionate hatred she had for him was slowly starting to well up in her chest, but being swallowed by a big flurry of adrenaline that made her blood flush in her veins faster.
It was his gaze. They'd changed into something atypical. Too . . . soft, and upon realisation, the double volume of her disdain started knocking her off again.
"No," she mumbled and quickly sat up, pushing him away from her as she scrambled to get her rapier and stand up. "You can't just come here and play the hero, and look at me like that! No!"
Confusion changed his expression, "I just helped you."
"Why do you do this to me?" Her voice has all but given up standing sturdy. She trembled both in excessive fatigue and strong emotions. "You can't just — just look at me like that after you made me feel like shit! And then what? You pity me, and you say sorry and things will go back to being shit again and the cycle continues? What do you think I am?"
"I—"
"You what? You're sorry? Why did you come here? To tell me worse things, that I'm hopeless or that maybe you're so noble that you just felt the need to help me get started with my life?"
Lockwood understood every bit of what she was saying. Her absence in that home has made him realise just how much of a cowardly bastard he was. How undeniably much of an asshole he had been to her and how much hell he'd pay. Her wrath was just the start of it.
But his understanding was growing weary. He knew in a way that Y/N had her wrongs too, "You never told us about the voices."
She halted. She really didn't have any other reason than she didn't want to appear weak and bother anyone. Besides, she doubted the existence of the voice. But there was no excuse.
"I wanted to figure things out on my own," she stated before turning to leave. Before she did though, he spoke.
"I look at you," he started as she stopped and slightly turned to her side but not completely enough to meet his eyes, "like this, not because I pity you, Y/N."
That was her name. Her first name.
"I look at you because I've been. Whenever you were unaware that I was looking. I've always seen you from the start, hence why when I said you reminded me of how things begin and end, it was because you were the first person to make me get up from my bed and the only person I want to see when the day ends. When I'm tired and weary." He then averted his gaze to the ground, "I looked at you like that earlier because I couldn't bear to look at anything else or see you in another state."
"I regret everything that I said, and I wanted you to know how hard it's been to look at your door and think that in the next few days, someone else or no one will occupy that room knowing that there were traces of you — any traces, just anything but physical. It's been torture, not just for me, but for both Lucy and George. So, I thought maybe you'd gone to the place you've been going to peculiarly for the past few months," he continued.
Indeed, he knew her, watched her, examined her.
Possibly even admired her. From afar. But he looked the other way, believed the other way because how could he afford that? How could he afford these feelings knowing he had nothing? He had himself, but he did not have anything stable that he could give her. Will that make her happy? Not at all.
"I'm sorry," he breathed out. "I know it's not enough, but I'm willing to prove to you how sorry I am. Just — I want you to know that I never intended things to be so bad and out of control, and I never meant to hurt you. I thought I was doing the right thing, but this isn't an excuse. I just want you to know that I regret everything."
"You are not a dead weight, Y/N. If anything, you're a breath of fresh air, and you make things easier every time one of us feels down. You make the mornings lighter, the end of every exhausting day a moment of opportunity to think about how thrilling life can be. You make the next days, weeks, months, and years something to look forward to. When you left, thinking about those future moments without you with us, it feels empty and terrible. A few hours without you had turned us into malfunctioning lunatics. We're in shambles — I'm in shambles. What more with days? The truth is, it's not you that's the problem. I keep causing you pain, and I'm trying to be better, because I want to be better for you. When the time comes that I do, I will try to be the best. You deserve that. It will take time, and that is why I'll understand if you don't want to return to the agency with me."
Come to think of it, as she observed his state, his Lockwood hair wasn't in its best today. His eyes looked tired and bloodshot. His always tidy flat clothes were wrinkly and his tie was out of place. He looked like he'd been through hell, and his next elaboration explained why.
"Thinking about you every now and then, especially now, I've always shifted in my seat, trying to decipher just how you affect me this much. When I found the possibility of how, I felt the sense to hide it. Every smile that you caused, I hid it all, because secretly I love bickering with you every chance we get, because I get to see the thrill in your eyes and the fire that you hide. I thought that maybe if I hated you, I would selfishly gain more feelings and learn to embrace the things I might possibly find distasteful if my feelings started the other way. And I did, I managed to admire everything you hated about yourself. You've made me feel things strong enough that whenever I run away, I still end up going back to you."
"Lockwood," she finally spoke and swivelled to face him completely. "Anthony."
"Yes?" He eagerly lifted his head to wait for her response.
She chuckled, "I thought you were about to recite Mr. Knightley when he was confessing to Emma."
That's when he laughed and nodded, accepting the fact that maybe he said too much that all she could reply was Jane Austen’s Emma joke, "Well, I have been told that I have a knack for paraphrasing."
"Do you mean all that?"
"The bickering part, most especially."
"Do you want us to bicker now?"
"I think we're already starting," he commented, which made them snicker.
"I'm sorry," she stated. Lockwood thought that was her way of telling him that it was too late. His heart was pierced by a shard of mirror which he failed to use earlier for self-reflection. That was when she smiled, "I just don't know what to say."
"You can start by accepting our job offer. We, er, have an open position looking for someone with a talent like yours," Anthony cheekily replied with a playful smile. "Our agency is one of the most prestigious agencies in London, and we ensure the safety and warm welcome — new addition, of our team, old and new. Do you accept, Y/N L/N?"
“Didn’t you hear what I said earlier? I think I’m losing my talent.”
“And you still managed to beat a type two with a frenemy in one night with a rapier, a pen, and a box?”
"You're a bloody idiot." She defeatedly let out a breath of joy and relief.
"I'm taking that as a yes. Come on, if you say yes, we'll bicker nonstop and you’ll get endless coffee privileges."
"You're a bloody idiot." She defeatedly let out a breath of joy and relief.
“Just so we could hate each other again, and be able to speak about our fondness more.” offered his hand for her to take. She leisurely took it, trying to ignore the warmth her hand provided to his cold one. He was holding her. Touching her, when a few hours ago, he couldn’t even as much as lay a finger on her.
And when they got back home, the block had been covered with missing posters of Y/N, with additional apology notes and “Lockwood sucks!” extras. That was true.
#anthony lockwood#anthony lockwood x reader#anthony lockwood x reader angst#anthony lockwood angst#anthony x reader#lockwood x reader#lockwood x you#anthony lockwood x you#anthony lockwood imagines#anthony lockwood fluff#anthony lockwood x y/n#lockwood and co#lockwood & co#lockwood and co x reader#lockwood & co x reader#anthony lockwood fic#anthony lockwood fic rec#lockwood and co fic rec
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I absolutely need an Top!Angel Dust x reader, I think he's so hot when he's angry (like in the second episode when he discovered that serpentine was working for Vox and *masquares* when he wanted a stronger drink (I hope it didn't sound strange)
જ⁀➴ Top! Angel Dust x male reader ๋࣭ ⭑
angel dust tops for once in his gay life! <;3
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˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Details: ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
๋࣭ ⭑ Request: requested :D
๋࣭ ⭑ TW: very suggestive, angel gets upsetty spaghetti with you, toothrotting fluff at the end
๋࣭ ⭑ Word Count: 694
๋࣭ ⭑ Timeline: after episode 8
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Angel was in a bad mood, Val was giving him shit and it was pissing him off. He was sitting on his bed not wanting to deal with anybody right now when there was a knock at his door. “Go away” he groans, turning to his side ignoring it. But a voice comes through the door. “Ang, I'm worried are you okay?” it was you, his boyfriend. He just sighed, “I love you baby, but please leave me alone.” but your stubborn ass wasn't having that and kept going and going. The more you went on the more annoyed he got. You eventually opened the door and entered his room even after his countless requests for you to just leave. That pushed him over the edge and he angrily sat up and got off the bed. “Okay dollface what the fuck do you think ‘go away’ means?!” he pins you to the door and you could see the angry look in his eyes. He chuckled at your lack of words. “Why are you so quiet? Five seconds ago you wouldn’t shut the fuck up.” he growled lowly. “I told you to leave and you didn't listen. I think I deserve some compensation right?”
!!THIS GETS PRETTY SUGGESTIVE LOL!!
He threw you on the bed and crawled over top of you. He sighed, “Is this okay?” He may be upset but he isn't a monster and will always ask for consent. He knows what it feels like to not be asked and he does not want to do that to you. You just nod as heat creeps up to your cheeks. He just smirks at that and just lightly grinds on you as you let out little huffs. “You're gonna be a good boy for me aren't you?” you just nod as he smirks and kisses you. God you love kissing him so much. He then begans to kiss your neck as you made small moans. Eventually Angel gets all his frustrations out and you're just laying resting your head on his chest fluff. He's gently rubbing your back and pulling you close by your waist.
He kisses your forehead, playing with your hair softly. “I'm sorry for yelling at you baby. I was just upset and you were not helping.” you just hum and look up at him. “It was my fault for pushing, I'm sorry.” Anthony gently smiles down at you. “It's fine love, I'll be right back okay?” Anthony stands up and walks off to his bathroom, you hear the sound of water running but don't bother moving to try to look, you are tired as fuck. Anthony comes back and tries to pick you up but you whine in protest. “Baby you have to get up, this will make you feel better.” you just huff as Anthony successfully picks you up and carries you into the bathroom. You get set in a warm tub and Anthony gently takes care of you like you're made of glass, much different to a couple minutes earlier. Eventually you finish washing up and Anthony wraps you in a fluffy warm towel, drying you off completely before helping you change into some comfy clothes, his clothes which you were more than happy in wearing. You soon come and flop back in the bed as Anthony lays next to you. Nuggs happily climbs up on the bed and cuddles into you and you pet the pig with a smile. Anthony smiles at the interaction and snaps a picture. He chuckles, “That's a keeper.” you just lazily smile back and pull him into a hug playfully. He laughs and hugs you back with the same energy.
He plays with your hair gently and your heart melts at the action. You lean into his touch and rest your head on his chest again. Nuggs trots up and lays in with you both. Anthony smiles happily. He's with his two favorite people. How could his heart not be full and happy? “I’m glad to have you my pretty boy.” he says with a soft tone telling you he's being very genuine. You just smile back and cuddle closer. “I love you too Anthony.”
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use me up is such a good song omg. also I live for angel. anyways this is like the most suggestive thing I've ever written—
notes are appreciated!! d(･∀･)b
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#hazbin hotel#fanfictions#hazbin hotel x reader#x male reader#request#hazbin hotel angel dust#hazbin hotel anthony#angel dust#anthony#hazbin hotel x male reader#angel dust x reader#angel dust x male reader#anthony x reader#anthony x male reader#story#fanfiction#fanfic#romantic#gay#mlm#suggestive#aftercare
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Hi!! I saw that you’re taking Hazbin requests and was wondering if I could request one!😊 I’d love to request an Angel Dust x gn!reader oneshot where Angel doesn’t have anyone to watch Fat Nuggets for him while he’s at work, but reader feels bad and offers to help him out? This is set before they’re dating, like reader really likes Angel (pretty much crushing on him) but doesn’t feel like Angel notices them much, so in an effort to put themselves out there, they volunteer to help, especially since they know how much Fat Nuggets means to Angel. Angel is a bit hesitant at first, not knowing how qualified they really are to take care of his baby, but he sees how sincere they are in taking on this responsibility, so to put them to the test, he agrees. Of course, Nuggs is a little mischievous at first, but instantly warms up to reader☺️
Later on, Angel comes back and sees how well reader and Nuggs are getting along and he’s just all soft and mushy at how adorable they are😍 Angel’s known about reader’s crush on him for a while and would always playfully tease them about it, thinking that it was just because they were a fan, but seeing this, he can’t help but notice how caring and sweet reader really is😍 and if Nuggs likes them enough, then that says a lot. In the end, Angel thanks them and in true Angel Dust fashion, suggests that they should get to have their own “play date” next time😏😉 in which reader is all flustered and is thinking “fuck… I didn’t expect to get this far”😳 but Angel laughs, eating up their reaction, saying that he’s just teasing and would genuinely like to get to know reader more. And then they share a really cute, fluffy moment (with Angel giving a little cheek kiss😘) in the end💕💕💕
I’m so sorry this is insanely long!! My brain got carried away and went off but if you’re willing to write this request, I would absolutely appreciate it! If not, no worries!! Thank you love!!🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼
YOUR IVY GROWS, NOW I’M COVERED IN YOU
— falling in love can make you do silly things. especially when it’s angel dust you’re falling for.
— i get it Y/N. i did the exact same thing (i j bought him cup noodles and i gotta chill out) happy birthday to me and angel hehe!
“fuck me..” angel groaned out. “isn’t that what’s about to happen..?” husk raised his eyebrow at angel. “hah!” angel rolled his eyes at husk’s joke. “val wants me to head to the studio… something about dick fight island or whatever…” he scrunched his face at the corny plots valentino wrote. “hey, whiskers! can ‘ya take care ‘a fat nuggets till i’m back?” angel asked, keeping fat nuggets close to his body.
“ah… angel, ‘ya mind if i take care of him?” you asked, heart racing as you did. “i…i mean husk is kinda busy with manning the bar… ‘n i don’t have much to do, so i could take care of him!” you explained, hands fidgeting as you nervously looked angel in the eye.
“eh…” angel thought for a second. your explanation was logical, but you and him were not as close as say, angel and husk. “shit, fine. why the hell not? i trust ‘ya.” he shrugged.
he looked down at fat nuggets, wondering what might happen when he’s gone, before hesitantly handing him over. fat nuggets squeals a bit under your care, feistily wiggling around in your arms.
angel laughed as he watched you struggle to keep fat nuggets still. “haha! hope you can deal with him. anyways, i gotta head out now.” he frowned before pinching you on the nose and leaving.
in all honesty, fat nuggets was not much of a problem. he was affectionate and not at all messy. all you had you do was feed and tend to his grooming.
when angel returned, he found you and fat nuggets fast asleep on the couch of the leisure room. your arms cradle him as fat nuggets’ hooves rest on your shoulders, all while having a blanket over you.
the two of you looked so sweet, as if a parent with their child. angel almost didn’t want to wake you up. almost.
you forget that this is angel dust.
angel reached a claw under your jaw and started tickling you until you woke up. “mornin’, sleeping beauty!” angel grinned as fat nuggets climbed his way into angel’s arms.
“aww… did’ya miss me, nuggs?” angel smiled, petting fat nuggets. he looked up to see you blushing from you and angel’s close proximity to each other. angel only grins. “what’s up? never got close enough before?”
“no! it’s nothing.” you said, moving your eyes to anywhere but angel’s. he shrugs it off. “thanks a lot again, i appreciate it.” he smiled, his eyes showing a moment of genuine gratitude. “ya’know… next time, i could leave nuggs with good ‘ol whiskers, then you and i could have… a playdate of our own?” he smirked, pushing his forehead against yours while placing his lower set of hands on your waist.
you froze under angel’s touch, brain trying to think of a response. angel simply laughs, eating up your reaction to his advances. “i’m just teasin’! it’ll be a long time before i let ‘ya touch me anywhere. chill, will ‘ya?” he grinned.
“but, if you’re interested…” he starts. “i wouldn’t mind a dinner tomorrow.” he grinned, winking as if to tempt you even further.
you thought to yourself before speaking “ah, sure..! what you say dinner at 7? i’ll meet you down here.” you said. “‘ya betcha. i’ll see you tomorrow then, babycakes.” angel smiled, peppering your face with kisses before he returned to his room, fat nuggets in hand.
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#angel dust x reader#angel dust#anthony hazbin hotel#anthony x reader
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how Lockwood & co would kiss
main master list
Lockwood & co-master list
Request/matchup~open
warnings~
Lockwood
This tall cheeky man
now depending on your height would depend
I can see Lockwood being the type of person who if his s/o is taller than him and he wants a kiss would just grab your chin and kiss you.
he looks when his tall s/o kisses his forehead and makes him feel loved.
Like if you are making him tea and just randomly hit him on the check or something makes him blush so hard
now if you're smaller than him you better run. cos this man will find any reason in which he has a face in your neck.
he loves them and is proud of himself when he sees how flustered you have become full ego boost not like he needs it though.
he likes it when you are holding each other and you kiss his chest not in a sexual way just in a ' I'm here' way
#anthony lockwood x you#anthony lockwood#lockwood and co#lockwood netflix#anthony lockwood x reader#anthony x reader#anthony j lockwood
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