#but the Bridgerton take on regency made me think of it so

[tilundsetning]

Ok, so this gif from @gifshistorical came across my dash and as Daphne’s turn of the wrong century-looking bloomers fed into my increasingly frequent thoughts of « wow, some of the underwear technology in Bridgertonland is certainly miles ahead » (Kate was wearing what looked more like 1940’s French knickers in s2, their shirts seem to button all the way down etc) and then it came to me:

Bridgerton is set in someone’s game of civilisation!

Whoever is playing has probably given up on a domination victory, so that’s why , even though this is set in the 1810’s, none of the several younger sons in the family seem to be even considering a military career.

And by not prioritising the military technologies they are moving very quickly forwards in certain areas of fashion technology (side note: I really want some sort of fashion history expansion of Civ now where you can actually choose these), so they have access to zippers and knickers and aniline dyes and plastic sequins. They haven’t got any « hair up or down » or « difference between daywear and eveningwear » civics in play, but they there’s some sort of Victorian sex ed for girls thing instead.

This also explains the « oh, no, we totally used to have racism too, but we solved that like 15-20 years ago » vibe - that’s when they got the totally colourblind society-civic!

[dreamwritesimagines]

Garden of Secrets [40] - Laurel

A.N: The last 3 chapters! ❤️Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤️ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think❤️

Summary: An engagement ball can be followed by an unexpected surprise.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of sex, mentions of threats.

Word Count: 3000

Series Masterlist

Technically you knew planning an engagement ball was bound to be stressful, of course you did.

But from the way Lottie was treating it, you were beginning to think it was a life-and-death situation.

“Lottie you do realize you didn’t have to come here to make sure me and Ben are coming to the engagement ball?” you asked “Don’t get me wrong, I’m always glad to see you but there is no way we’d miss it. No matter how much Benedict whines about you and Anthony getting married, he’s actually happy for you.”

“Oh I know!” she said as she sat beside you on the bench. You were in the garden, enjoying your book in the gazebo after having spent hours in the greenhouse while Benedict was busy with his painting in his studio. “I cannot stay long because I must go to the Bridgerton House but before that, I figured I could come here and give you this.”

She put the wrapped rectangular box that she was holding into your lap and you tilted your head.

“What is this?”

“This is sort of a thank you for accepting to be my maid of honor,” she said, making you smile.

“Lottie, you really shouldn’t have…” you said as you unwrapped the box and held your breath when you saw the chocolates. “I take it back, I’m glad you did.”

She let out a laugh as you hugged her and pulled back to look at her better.

“It’s my privilege to be your maid of honor,” you said as you popped a chocolate into your mouth and offered her, but she shook her head.

“I feel as if I’m in the most pleasant dream,” she whispered like she was giving you a secret. “I never thought Tony would love me back and the funny part is—”

“He never thought you’d love him back?”

“Yes!” she said. “Can you believe it?”

“I absolutely can,” you said with a laugh, then reached out to hold her hand. “I’m really happy for you.”

“Thank you!”

You grabbed another piece of chocolate, then chewed on it.

“So are you very excited for the engagement ball?”

“Very tense, more likely,” she said. “I hope everyone will like it.”

“Of course they will,” you assured her. “And you’re not doing it for them, you’re doing it for you.”

“That is something I must repeat to myself a lot, yes,” she said with a sigh. “I mean don’t get me wrong, I’m so happy about the wedding and such but I’m also happy for the time I’ll get to be alone with Tony after all this.”

“I know how that feels,” you said, smiling slightly and she looked around.

“Benny is in his studio?”

“Mm hm, painting.”

“I must go but you must give him my regards.”

“You don’t want to say hello to him?”

“I’m not going to interrupt him while he’s painting, he might lose focus,” she said and stood up, then kissed you on the cheek. “I will see both of you tonight?”

“Cross my heart,” you said and hugged her. “Tell the family I said hello!”

“Will do!” she said and walked away, and you looked back at the house before making your way there. You hummed a song to yourself, still carrying the box of chocolates, and climbed the stairs, then walked down the hallway to approach the closed door of the studio.

You only hesitated for a moment before knocking on the door, then stepped back.

“Yes?” Benedict’s voice carried outside and you smiled slightly.

“You’ve been awfully quiet, is there something terrible going on there?”

The footsteps came closer, then the door opened halfway, letting you see him and you repressed a grin. He looked handsome as always but there were traces of paint all over his hands and his white shirt, and his hair was tousled as if he had been running his hands through it the way he always would when he was stressed. You tilted your head.

“Did you lose a fight with the canvas or something?”

“I’m winning actually,” he said as he gave you an excited grin and you leaned sideways to the doorframe, then held up the box.

“Do you want a chocolate?”

“God yes,” he said and grabbed one to pop it into his mouth. “Where did this come from?”

“Lottie dropped by, she didn’t want to interrupt you while you were painting,” you said. “She brought me chocolates to thank me for accepting to be her maid of honor.”

Benedict blinked a couple of times. “Wait, we get treats for that?”

“I got treats for that,” you corrected him. “You’re the best man, what did Anthony give you?”

“…A speech.”

You clicked your tongue. “Ah well, that sounds like the consequences of your choices.”

“He’s my brother, I honestly did not have a choice in that,” he said, eyeing the chocolates. “How come you get chocolates and I get a speech?”

“Probably because I’m nicer than you,” you said with a grin. “There’s no other explanation here.”

“Mm hm, I’m sure.”

“So the painting?” you asked, standing on your tiptoes to sneak a look inside but he tut-tutted, blocking your view.

“Not yet.”

“What’s it about?”

“You’ll see,” he said. “Y/N, I can’t explain, I…ever since that night, it’s like I’m more inspired than I’ve ever been in my entire life.”

You could feel the warmth spreading inside your chest and you shifted your weight, letting a smile pull at your lips.

“And yet I cannot see it?” you asked, nodding in the direction of the room and he shook his head.

“Not yet, but you will be the first person to see it once it’s finished.”

You hummed, pretending to be in deep thought. “Do you promise?”

He smiled softly, then leaned in to brush his lips against yours, making you heave a happy sigh.

“On my honor,” he said. “You’ll see it before anyone else.”

“Very well, I guess I’ll leave you alone to work on it,” you said. “Just don’t forget, we must be at Lottie and Anthony’s engagement party before eight o’clock.”

He made a face. “After Anthony’s huge speech about responsibilities, how could I?”

“See, the speech was useful,” you pointed out, and walked away from him, popping a chocolate into your mouth. “But chocolates are still better!”

                                                    *

You had to admit, though you knew Lottie and Anthony’s engagement ball would be beautiful, even you did not see this coming. Every single guest looked like they were having so much fun while Anthony and Lottie seemed like they were in their own happy bubble, as if blind to anyone else in the ballroom.

“Anthony a married man…” Colin murmured as he sipped his drink while Eloise shook her head. “Now I know the world is coming to an end.”

Benedict grinned. “You do realize what it means right?” he asked. “Mother will focus on only you two the next season.”

“This is your fault, you know?” Eloise asked and Benedict tilted his head.

“How is that?”

“First you, then Daph…” she tilted her glass in Daphne and Simon’s direction who were talking to Lady Danbury and Lady Bridgerton on the other side of the ballroom. “And now Anthony. Even Colin almost got married this season!”

“The season of scandals,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders and Colin heaved a sigh.

“Has someone put the whole family under a spell I wonder.”

“Not me,” Eloise said. “I remain to be the smartest among you all.”

Benedict pushed her shoulder with his in a joking manner. “Does this mean you’re not looking forward to the next season when you will have so many suitors to entertain, El?”

“You take that back!”

“I’ll help you threaten them,” you assured Eloise. “Don’t worry. Eloise before I forget, do you want a knife?”

“She does not want a knife,” Benedict answered in a haste before Eloise could. “I do not trust her with a knife.”

“I second that,” Colin said and Eloise leaned in so that she could whisper into your ear.

“Please tell me you’re getting me a knife.”

You winked at her and nodded, then sipped your drink.

“When we return to Aubrey Hall in two weeks, we will have nowhere to run,” Eloise said. “I mean I can’t stay at your house because you two are sickeningly in love, and so are Daphne and Simon, and now, Anthony and Lottie. Where am I supposed to go to in order to see no romance?”

“It is a challenge,” you said and Colin shot you a look.

“Did you miss the part she said you two are sickeningly in love?” he asked. “I mean you’ve always been but lately it’s even…it’s different, it’s much more than before.”

You and Benedict exchanged glances and you pursed your lips to hold back your grin while Benedict ran a hand over his mouth to keep his expression straight.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he managed to say and Lady Bridgerton raised a hand to motion at them to come over. Eloise heaved a sigh and looked up at Colin.

“Come on,” she said and Colin downed his drink, then they both made their way to her. You looked around, standing on your tiptoes.

“Have you seen Josie?” you asked. “Or Andrew, or Bess?”

“Not yet,” Benedict said. “I’m sure they will be here soon.”

“Hello you two!” Lottie’s cheerful voice reached you, making you turn around. She threw herself into your arms and you hugged her tight, smiling wide. Anthony grabbed the glass from Benedict’s hand and took a sip, making him frown.

“Get your own God damn glass!”

“Every time any footman makes his way to me, someone pulls us into a conversation,” Anthony said, still holding Lottie’s hand with his free hand. “I swear to you, I couldn’t even eat anything yet.”

“Still doesn’t explain why you’re taking my glass—”

“I’m the oldest, that’s why.”

“This is your engagement ball!”

“I could give you my glass Tony,” Lottie said like a melody and Anthony pressed a kiss on the back of her hand.

“No need my love.”

“Everyone has so much to tell us,” Lottie told Benedict. “So much advice about marriage too, it’s rather overwhelming.”

“Probably they’re still waiting for you to wake up and see the light and change your mind about marrying him Charlie, the wedding is next week so it’s not too late—”

“Benedict!”

“I mean he stole my drink, is this really the type of person you want to grow old with?” Benedict motioned at Anthony with a grin while Anthony rolled his eyes.

“Unbelievable.”

“I’m still working on your wedding present by the way,” he told her, making her gasp. “It should be ready by the time the social season is over.”

“You got us a wedding present? Aw Benny, you shouldn’t have!”

“Yeah well, if you can’t fight it…” Benedict said with a shrug but the happy grin on his face told a different story than his pretend nonchalance. Lottie pulled him into a hug, and he hugged her back.

“Congratulations to you both by the way,” Benedict said as Lottie pulled back, “In case I forgot to say that. I really am happy for you.”

“That is uncharacteristically mindful of him, is this your doing?” Anthony asked you and you let out a laugh.

“I’d love to take credit but no.”

“And how is it going with the plan—” Anthony started but cleared his throat when Benedict shot him a look. “The plan with the…the art thing that you uh—that you do?”

You pulled your brows together. “Hm?”

“I have this plan for a new painting,” Benedict said. “It’s going quite well brother.”

“Keep me informed about that, will you?”

“Sure—”

“Oh isn’t this the happy couple?” A lady you didn’t even know touched Lottie’s arm. “Do you two mind if I borrowed them?”

“Of course not,” you said and Anthony heaved a dramatic sigh while Lottie squeezed his arm as if trying to console him.

“We will see you later,” she said and both Anthony and she followed the lady to the small crowd on the other side of the ballroom. You pressed your lips together to hide your smile, then looked up at Benedict.

“What plan?”

Benedict turned to you. “Hm?”

“What plan was he talking about?”

“I told you,” Benedict said with a shrug of his shoulders, then held out his hand. “Just the painting, that’s all. A dance, my lady?”

                                                *

By the time the ball was over, it was almost dawn. Lottie looked like she was about to pass out from exhaustion, so you gave her a quick hug, then you and Benedict told everyone else you would see them the next day and -which was technically today- and got on the carriage.

“Is it just me or was Andrew a bit distracted?” you asked while the carriage moved through the street and Benedict thought for a moment, then shook his head.

“Probably because Felix wasn’t there?”

“Maybe,” you murmured and rested your head on his chest, letting out a small groan. “I’m so tired.”

Benedict buried his nose into your hair, throwing his arm over your shoulder so that he could hold you tighter.

“At least they’ll have their wedding before we all go back to countryside,” he said. “I wouldn’t be expecting any other ball from them for at least next season.”

“Because they’ll be very busy?” you asked with a grin and he made a face.

“Yeah yeah… Please don’t remind me.”

“What are you getting them as their wedding present?”

“I’m going to paint their portrait together,” he said as you pulled back to look at him better, your jaw dropping. “And send it to Aubrey Hall because I honestly think when I see my sweet Charlie as Anthony’s wife, I might just—”

“Stop with that, I was there when you told them you were happy for them,” you said with a laugh. “So is that what you’re working on then?”

“Not yet,” he said. “I’ll get to it once I’m done with the painting I’m already working on. It’s about to be finished.”

“And I’ll be the first to see?”

“And you’ll be the first to see,” he said with a mischievous smile before kissing you, and the carriage came to a stop. Benedict got out of it and helped you out, and you both started walking to the house, still holding hands.

“So everyone is going back to Aubrey Hall in two weeks then?”

“Well everyone but us and Daphne,” he said as you two climbed the marble stairs leading to the house. “I forgot you still haven’t seen there, or our home in the countryside.”

A warmth spread inside your chest and you took a deep breath.

“But we’re moving all the flowers from this greenhouse to the countryside house?” you felt the need to ask and he nodded his head.

“Of course. Might be a little time because the greenhouse there still hasn’t finished but I was thinking,” he said as you both reached the door and walked through it, entering the foyer. “Maybe we could get some and put them in the house and once the greenhouse is finished—”

“Mr. Bridgerton,” the butler’s voice reached you and you both turned your heads to see him approach you. “There’s a note for you, it arrived a couple hours ago.”  

“Thank you,” Benedict said, taking the letter from him and you tilted your head.

“Just now?” you asked. “That’s not very common, everyone is asleep. Who’s it from?”

Benedict ripped open the envelope to read the note, a grin curling his lips as he got to the end of the lines, and let out a breath.

“Oh thank God, finally.”

“What?” you asked and Benedict lowered the letter, then gave you a soft smile.

“My love, I haven’t been the most honest with you I’m afraid,” he said, making your heart skip a beat and you pulled back slightly, a frown pinching your brows together.

“About what?”

“Me and Andrew, remember we talked the other night?”

You nodded your head, still frowning.

“Well you said your parents didn’t even know Josie was here, but that they were blackmailing her about that letter.”

“Yes?”

“So it got me thinking, if they didn’t even know she was here, there was no reason at all why they would bring the letter with them here.”

You blinked a couple of times. “Uh… I suppose?”

“So we sent someone to the countryside to go find that letter in their house while your parents are here.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “What?”

“Someone we can trust—Anthony knows him, that’s what he was talking about today,” he assured you. “And I told him to take the letter to Andrew and give it to him directly, no one else, but to let me know immediately so…” he held up the note. “He apparently found it and wrote to me that he would wait for Andrew to come home so that he can deliver it in person.”

You could feel the shock taking over your whole mind and you tried to wrap your head around it.

“…You mean to tell me—”

“I mean to tell you that there’s nothing at all they can use against Josie and Bess,” he said. “And they’re not going to hurt you, or Josie, or Teddy. Ever again.”

A relieved laugh spilled from your lips before you flung yourself into his arms and he caught you to hug you tight, pressing a kiss on the top of your head.

“Ben, I don’t know what to say,” you managed to mutter, still in disbelief. “Thank you, you…you didn’t have to help—”

“Your family is my family,” he said. “Of course I will help however I can.”

You looked up at him and stood on your tiptoes to kiss him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I love you,” you said and he gave you a lopsided grin.

“I love you too,” he muttered and leaned in to brush his lips against yours again, making you smile. “In this life and the next, darling.”

Chapter 41

[fantasyescapes17]

Manners (Part 2, Final)

Viscount Joshua Hong is by far the most eligible bachelor in London. Rich, handsome, and renowned for his excellent manners and refined tastes. Young woman would kill for the chance to be the Viscount's chosen bride. But nobody can quite determine which of the young ladies he prefers, and you are beginning to have your doubts. Is the Viscount really as gentlemanly as the ton seems to think?

Genre: Joshua Hong x Female!reader. Regency!AU (It's sort of Bridgerton-esque in the sense that I give zero attention to historical accuracy and prioritize aesthetics lmao) You are a sibling to all the Lees (Woozi, DK, Dino) so your last name is Lee but the reader has no other specific characteristics, physical or otherwise.

Word Count: 5.2k+

Part 1

Series Masterlist [I would highly recommend reading the earlier stories in this series, Patience, and Candle, before this one but it's not strictly necessary.]

You had never been formally courted before, and therefore had no inkling of what to expect from your new courtship with Viscount Hong. Indeed, you had scarcely even processed the events of the night before. The entire evening- right from Viscount Hongs' unannounced arrival up until his proposal of marriage- felt rather like an intense fever dream.

You were awoken from a fitful sleep early that morning by your maid. 

“Miss- oh miss, you must  awaken, there has been a delivery for you!” she cried frantically. 

You sat up in bed and rubbed your tired eyes. Lily and Nessie ran into your room in their nightgowns, giggling as they climbed up onto the bedcovers. They were followed by two maids struggling to carry an enormous basket of arranged pink and red roses between them. They placed the assortment precariously on your bedside table. 

“What is this?” you asked, confused. 

“A delivery for you miss- there is a card as well.” 

The maid handed you the card and your sisters climbed up behind you eagerly to peek at it. 

“Read it aloud!” Lily ordered, and you had no choice but to take the card into your hands and read out the message written in Viscount Hong’s neat and careful handwriting. 

Miss Lee,

I thought perhaps some flowers would brighten your morning- I hope the events of last night have not caused you too much distress. I did fear that writing to you would be too forward but then again, I believe we can agree that the mistake I have made so far is failing to be forward enough. 

May I persuade you to join me for a ride in the park this evening? If you are concerned about the lack of a chaperone, you may bring Chan- I will ensure an extra horse is available for him. 

Yours, 

Joshua

Lily and Nessie squealed in delight and even the maids were biting back their smiles. Sending flowers and a personalised invitation was a bold and romantic gesture indeed; you could not help the fluttering that arose in your heart. 

It appeared that Viscount Hong meant business. 

—-----------------------------------------

“I did suspect that Joshua might harbour some affection for you,” Jihoon admitted over breakfast. Your father was eating in his study, leaving you and your siblings to speak freely about the previous night's events in the dining room. “He always asks after you whenever he sees me or Seokmin.” 

Seokmin agreed, mouth full of scrambled eggs. “He does ask about you often, now that I think of it, but I thought he was only being polite. The Viscount is always so well-mannered.” 

You frowned at your brother. “Unlike you, Seokmin. Please swallow your food before you speak.” 

“It’s only us siblings here,” Seokmin protested.  

“You should be setting a better example as a gentleman for Chan.” 

Chan scoffed before sipping at his tea. “Please don’t insult me, sister. I know better than to emulate anything Seokmin does.” 

They began to argue and you did not have the energy or inclination to interrupt them. The gravity of your situation was slowly beginning to set in. You still harboured a certain girlish pleasure at the thought of Viscount Hong being in love with you- but you were also forced to begin thinking about what this proposal from a nobleman so superior in station to you would mean for you and your family. 

Jihoon noticed your expression. 

“Are you all right, sister?” he asked gently as Seokmin and Chan continued to argue. 

You turned to your elder brother with a hesitant smile. Jihoon was certainly the most mature of your siblings, and you trusted him implicitly.

"Do you think it will be alright? The entire ton has been watching to see whom the Viscount will marry. I cannot even begin to think of  how many young ladies must have their sights set on him. The thought of the gossip alone…"

Jihoon smiled kindly. "I did not think you were the sort of woman to be easily disturbed by gossip, sister."

"I-I am not, but you must admit that people will talk about it and you know that everyone holds him in exceedingly high regard while I am…" you bit your lip and looked at your brother, hoping he would understand your fears. 

Jihoon sighed and nodded. "I won't lie. It is an unexpected proposal and will certainly generate some surprise among the ton."

"What should I do?"

"I am sure word has not spread just yet. You should speak to Joshua about your fears."

You sighed and nodded. Perhaps you should. 

—--------------------------------------------------

It was a warm and pleasant afternoon; perfect for a ride in the park. Unfortunately, this meant that many other members of the ton had made similar plans. You were uncomfortably aware of the curious stares of some young ladies who passed by you on the walking trail. 

The Viscount was already waiting for you and Chan with the horses, but you had to stand aside and wait for a few moments as Chan monopolised the Viscount's attention. Once your younger brother's questions had been answered and he had taken his pick of the horses, the Viscount carefully took the reins of the horse you would ride and turned to you with a smile. 

"May I help you up, Miss Lee?"

Joshua stepped closer to you when you nodded. You tried not to show how flustered you felt when he gently took your hand and placed it on his shoulder, giving you the boost you needed to push yourself up onto the horse and seat yourself side-saddle. 

"Are you comfortable?" he asked with a caring smile. 

"Uh-yes, yes thank you very much," you replied. 

The Viscount and Chan each mounted their own horses. The three of you began a slow-paced ride around the park, but Chan could not resist pushing the purebred horse for a little more speed. 

"Chan! Don't go far, stay within sight!" you called after your brother as he went further ahead. Your brother merely lifted a hand to signal that he'd heard you. 

The Viscount brought his horse up to trot gently alongside yours. He was a skilled rider. 

"I… I received the flowers you sent me this morning," you began awkwardly in an attempt to make some conversation with Joshua. "Thank you. They were beautiful."

He nodded. "I am glad you liked them."

"I did. Very much."

"Have I made you uncomfortable, Miss Lee?" Joshua asked suddenly. He had a worried smile on his face. 

"N-no, why would you think so?"

"You seem to be avoiding my eyes."

You cleared your throat. Why did Joshua have to notice? It was true. You couldn't look at him, and not only because he was extremely handsome and his kind eyes caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach. You were simply too aware of the people watching you- there was a group of young ladies near the trees that gaped at you openly, and another pair of gentlemen who had been casting glances at you since Viscount Hong had helped you up onto your horse. 

"It… it is nothing," you said quickly. 

Joshua sighed. "Miss Lee. Please. The intention behind this courtship is to make you more comfortable with me and to trust me. If there is anything that troubles you-"

"There are too many eyes on us," you blurted out. 

Joshua was silent for a long moment. 

"I see. I've made another mistake," he said quietly. 

You turned to him with wide eyes. "No, not at all-"

"I have. It was quite foolish of me to ask you to come here with just your brother and no proper chaperone- and our courtship is not yet common knowledge to the ton. I failed to take your feelings into consideration, and-"

You felt miserable and rushed to correct him. "Viscount Hong, please, I never meant to suggest that you were responsible for this-"

"But I am responsible."

You shook your head and began to explain that it wasn't his fault, that it was your own insecurities and fears that were making you uncomfortable. But Joshua had already set his lips in a straight line and spurred his horse forward to catch up with Chan, leaving you behind. 

This was not a good start. 

Not at all. 

—-------------------------------------------

The ride at the park ended earlier than it should have; Chan was vocally disappointed but you were too mortified by the entire incident to object and Joshua was firm in sending you home safely escorted by his servants. 

Still; the damage was done. 

Word of your potential courtship with Joshua Hong had spread among the ton and you were faced with the full extent of the situation not three days later, at the ball hosted by the Hessingtons. 

Joshua had sent you flowers every single morning leading up to the ball, and had even written to apologise for his thoughtless invitation to ride in the park. He requested you to reserve him a dance at the Hessingtons' ball. 

You had, of course, accepted. 

The reality that this would be the first, formal social event where almost every single person in the room would have their eyes on you was clear from the moment you made your entrance with Jihoon and Seokmin. 

You had become accustomed to blending into the background at balls- Seokmin was lively and charming, hence rarely had trouble obtaining his desired female dance partners. Jihoon was more reserved when it came to women and dancing. But he had many friends among the ton and was often in the company of other gentlemen engaging in conversations about business. You had always been content to sit at the sidelines, accepting the offer of a dance when you received one and mingling with other ladies when they approached you.

But a lady being courted by Viscount Joshua Hong did not have the luxury of being ignored by the ton. 

“Miss Lee!” cried one of the more obnoxious gossip-mongers, Mrs. Patty, as soon as she found you alone at a bench. “You must come and dispel these strange rumours about you. Is it true that you are being courted by our lovely Viscount Hong?” 

You hesitated. “Erm…”

“Ha!” Mrs. Patty cried triumphantly, turning to her companions. She understood your hesitation to be a confirmation of her beliefs. “I knew there was no chance that little Miss Lee could capture our Viscount. I have been quite observant of his attention to the Duchess of Graham of late and I believe it is only a matter of time until they announce their engagement.” 

One of the other ladies tutted with disapproval. “But then Miss Lee must explain how she came to be riding in the park with Viscount Hong!” 

Your response was interrupted by the sound of a strong female voice behind you. 

“Miss Lee is not required to explain anything,” a young lady said sharply as she took your arm. You recognised her immediately, despite never having conversed with her before. 

This was Miss Hong. Viscount Hong’s infamous younger sister. 

"Miss Hong-" you began to greet her. 

"Come, Miss Lee. I have saved a seat for you near the refreshment tables, and you must sit with me until the dancing begins," Miss Hong said simply. 

You allowed her to lead you away from the gossip-mongers. 

You knew what everyone in London society said about Miss Hong. She was praised for being the most skilled pianoforte player among the ton, and it was well established that there was no young lady who could rival the musical talents of the Viscount's sister. 

But Miss Hong also had a reputation for being excessively fashionable, vain, and quick-tempered. While her status and wealth prevented anyone from saying so to her face, Miss Hong did not enjoy the same universal approval of society that her older brother did. 

"Miss Hong," you said gently. "Thank you for interrupting on my behalf. I really did not know how to answer their questions."

She brushed off your gratitude. "You need not bother about Mrs. Patty. That odious woman has been trying to make my life miserable since I was a child. I am not surprised she attempted to sink her claws into you."

You smiled awkwardly. "I see."

"I have been looking forward to meeting this elusive Miss Lee that seems to have the power to make my brother miserable," she said. You were shocked by her words, but when you turned to look at her, she was giggling. 

"I-I am so sorry, I really have no intention of upsetting the Viscount," you tried to explain. 

"Oh Miss Lee, you are such a sweetheart!" Miss Hong said with a carefree laugh. "I meant that my normally suave brother makes the most foolish mistakes around you and then renders himself miserable afterwards. You needn't apologise to me, I find the whole affair quite entertaining."

You relaxed a little. You had been anxious about how Viscount Hong's family would react to your courtship but, judging from Miss Hong's behaviour, she at least did not openly disapprove of you. 

"I warned Joshua he was being hasty about the proposal and that he should have someone speak to you first to assess your reaction," Miss Hong continued as she gestured for you to join her on the bench. "But he said it was not appropriate and that naturally he had to seek your father's permission before speaking to you."

You nodded. "I see…"

Miss Hong gave you a sympathetic smile. "My brother is kind but he is still a man. Society is more forgiving towards his type. He does not understand the fears and pressures that we face as young ladies."

You felt the need to defend your Viscount. 

"He has certainly been very thoughtful and considerate towards me-"

Miss Hong laughed. "Has he? Or perhaps you are blinded by your love for him."

"But the entire ton agrees that the Viscount has the most excellent manners, and-"

"Oh," Miss Hong said scornfully. "The ton. Miss Lee, I am sorry to say that if you intend to marry my brother, you must learn to take the opinions of the ton with a pinch of salt. Being a Viscountess is not an easy job. And it is certainly not one for a weak or feeble-minded woman."

Her words struck you like a blow to the face. 

A Viscountess. You would be a Viscountess if you were to marry Joshua. It suddenly occurred to you how much power and authority came from a title like that, and the strength and poise with which women carrying such coveted titles conducted themselves. 

You had certainly never seen a Viscountess who stumbled over her words in front of gossiping old women. 

Miss Hong noticed your sudden silence. 

"I apologise if I have offended you, Miss Lee," she said quickly. "It was not my intention to call you weak or feeble-minded. I am sure you are neither. But if I may be so bold as to make a suggestion, purely coming from my goodwill as your potential future sister-in-law…"

You nodded at her. You did not know if Miss Hong was as vain or quick-tempered as the ton claimed. But in this confusing reality, she was the only person willing to tell you the truth. 

 "Please do," you said. 

"You should use this courtship wisely. Not only to consider whether you wish to marry my brother… but also whether you wish to become a Viscountess. If you choose to marry Joshua, you should carry his title as a matter of pride, not as a burden. That is the only way you can be happy together."

Oh. 

You took a deep breath as you considered her words and then turned to Miss Hong, clasping her hand in yours.

"Thank you," you told her quietly. "For your honesty."

She smiled- a sudden, genuine smile that was rare for the fashionable young debutante. 

"Thank you for not being offended by it," Miss Hong replied. "Now, I regret to inform you that the dancing has begun and my brother approaches to claim your company for the first dance."

You nodded before turning to see that Joshua had indeed appeared from the crowd with his usual handsome smile. 

"Miss Lee," the Viscount greeted you warmly, offering you his hand. He raised an eyebrow at his sister. "I hope my sister has not been troubling you."

"Not at all!" you said quickly. "She has been very kind."

Miss Hong stood and smiled as she smoothed down the front of her fashionably decorated ball-gown. "Excuse me- I have promised this dance to Mr. Hessington," she said lightly before disappearing into the crowd. 

The Viscount turned to you. 

"And I believe you have promised this dance to me," he reminded you with a smile. 

"So I have."

You allowed Joshua to lead you out onto the floor for a pleasant waltz. The dance was not very demanding- and it allowed you both the chance to have a much-needed conversation. 

"I do hope my sister did not trouble you," Joshua said slowly. "She is known to be rather…"

"Honest?" you asked. 

"I was going to say impudent," he replied with a chuckle. "Although I dare say she usually means well."

"No, not at all. She helped me put things in perspective. I will admit that everything about our courtship is… new to me. I cannot help but have some fears and concerns about it all, and… I… I do not want you to think that I am ungrateful for the flowers and letters because I really am not, you have been very thoughtful and kind, I-I only…"

You were beginning to stumble over your words and your cheeks turned hot. Joshua's hand squeezed your gloved one reassuringly. 

"Tell me," he pressed you softly. "I would like nothing more than to hear your feelings."

"I wish we could have a conversation," you admitted slowly. "Only the two of us. Without- without any interruptions or eavesdropping chaperones so that-that we could have an honest discussion about the future and what this really means for each of us."

Joshua's expression was gentle. 

"Of course, Miss Lee. I agree entirely. I think we have stumbled blindly through this courtship without understanding each other. An open discussion would certainly help."

You nodded. "Well, yes. Open but…" you cleared your throat and glanced around you anxiously. "Well. Discreet, if you understand my meaning. Since we are not officially engaged."

He chuckled. 

"Of course. I understand perfectly. Would you do me the honour of coming to the assembly rooms on Thursday evening? I believe I can arrange for our… discreet discussion there."

You smiled and nodded. 

"Yes. Yes, that sounds wonderful."

"Excellent."

—---------------------------------------------------

Viscount Hong was a man of his word. 

You arrived at the assembly rooms on Thursday; Seokmin had been glad to accompany you as he had a bet to settle at the card tables with Mr. Yoon Jeonghan. 

Upon your arrival, the Viscount offered you his arm and requested your company for a walk around the gardens. You accepted- after all, you were now openly courting him, what harm could a walk about the gardens do? To your surprise, Joshua led you towards a thick copse of trees at the end of the path that provided complete cover and privacy from the rest of the gardens and the assembly rooms. 

"Shall we speak here?" Viscount Hong asked you. 

You nodded hesitantly. "Yes- I am shocked that you discovered this, it is such a private little corner."

Joshua looked slightly embarrassed. "The spot was recommended to me by Mr. Kim Mingyu. He is rather more… experienced than I am when it comes to finding ways to do things that society may not approve of."

You giggled. "You mean he is a rake."

"He admits it quite openly," Joshua agreed. 

"And we will not be interrupted- nobody will accidentally stumble upon us here?" you asked nervously.

"It is unlikely. In any case, I have asked Mr. Kim to watch over the garden path from the balcony. If anyone begins to walk in this direction, he will send us a warning," Joshua replied. 

You were flattered that Joshua would go to so much effort to indulge your simple request for a private conversation. 

"Thank you," you told him honestly. 

"It is the least I could do, Miss Lee. I understand that I have thrown quite a wrench in your life this past week. You have me quite flustered- I seem to repeatedly make poor judgements in your regard, and I will strive to remedy that."

You looked up to see the genuine regret in his eyes. It was still so strange to you that the Viscount should care so much about you and you could not help but feel a warmth towards him. 

"Viscount Hong, please do not say so. You have not made any mistakes, really."

Joshua reached his hands out hesitantly towards yours. You realised that he was seeking permission to hold your hands- and you offered them to him freely. 

His warm hands clasped yours. 

"May I go first?" he asked. 

You nodded.

"You asked me the other night why I wanted to marry you," Joshua began. He spoke slowly- as though every word was being carefully considered. "I will admit I was not prepared for that question, and I did a poor job of answering it. Will you allow me to answer it again?"

"Of course."

"Over the last year, ever since it became clear that the time had come for me to marry- I have met and considered many young women of my acquaintance. They all have their charms, of course, but I found that only your charms made a consistent and lasting impact on me."

You looked at him with surprise. 

"My charms? I must insist you tell me what these are, Viscount Hong, since I am entirely unaware of them," you laughed as your cheeks slowly turned hot.

Joshua chuckled. "I would be glad to elaborate. I know your brothers well, Miss Lee, and I am familiar with the difficulties that your family has faced. I have watched you bear them with quiet dignity. You have a strength and maturity that is rare among young women of your age- indeed, rare for any person at all. Even in the face of my hasty proposal, you had the presence of mind to stop me and question me. You are kind and generous; but not a woman who is easily swayed. That is what makes me confident that you would be a perfect choice for a life partner, and makes me want more than anything in the world to be your husband."

Your heart swelled. It was strange; you had expected some vague words from him about love and admiration- something along the lines of what you read in novels. 

But Joshua's answer gave you more confidence than any declaration of love could have. 

You now understood that his proposal, as sudden as it may have seemed to you, was not a rash or hasty decision on his part. Joshua had watched you, considered you, understood you… and still chosen you. 

"I… don't know if I deserve such praise," you told him softly. "I have not behaved very maturely this past week."

"What makes you say that?" he asked gently. 

"I have been selfish. My fears and insecurities got the better of me, and I worried about the gossip that our courtship would create and what people would think. How they would react to you proposing to someone like me."

Joshua shook his head. "Those are reasonable fears. And I have not done a very good job of protecting you from the ton's speculations."

You took a deep breath and looked up at him. 

"You do not need to protect me."

Joshua looked startled. "Miss Lee…"

"I have had time to think about what I want from our courtship, and what I can offer.  Entering into this with the expectation that I should be protected from the hardships involved is foolish. If we are to be married, then I will be a Viscountess. I cannot live my life fearing the opinions of the ton."

Joshua smiled. Your face had taken on a determined expression. It was the first time since the night of his proposal that you looked like yourself again- without that fear and anxiety looming behind your eyes. 

"You have nothing to fear from the ton," he assured you. "I will always be with you."

"Your sister said something to me that struck me deeply," you told him. "She said that if I was to become a Viscountess, then I should carry the title as a matter of pride and not as a burden."

Joshua sighed. "My sister has a strange relationship with pride."

"Perhaps so, but I think there is some truth in what she said," you replied. "It boils down to this… I would be proud to call myself your wife. And as long as you would be proud to call yourself my husband, then I do not think that there is anything society can do to ruin our happiness."

Joshua's eyes twinkled. His grip on your hands pulled you closer to him- you were mere inches away from him now and you could not tear your eyes away from his. 

"Dangerous words, Miss Lee," he warned. 

"Oh?"

"You are only making me fall more in love with you."

Your cheeks turned hot but you smiled up at him. "And you are treading dangerous waters, Viscount Hong. We are alone here, without a chaperone. I thought you were a gentleman?"

Joshua nodded. His eyes briefly flickered down to your lips. "I am. Will you allow me to kiss you?"

You flushed. "We are not even engaged…"

"I will stop if you ask me to."

"... Do not stop."

Joshua's right arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to him. Your hands naturally placed themselves on his shoulders as he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. 

It was a delicate kiss; one filled with passion and longing. Joshua was careful with you. One of his hands cupped your cheek as he pulled away slightly. He pressed his forehead to yours and gave you a small smile. 

"Have I made another mistake?" he asked breathlessly. 

You felt light-headed from the kiss but you managed to look up at him with a small pout. 

"You know perfectly well that you have not," you scolded him. 

"I had to check- my judgement always fails me around you. You cloud my senses," Joshua whispered. "You are the only woman that can make me doubt my own actions."

You looked up at the handsome man in front of you with adoration.

"I would never want you to doubt yourself," you told him firmly. 

"Then shall I kiss you again?"

"Please."

Joshua kissed you again- and again, and again, until you were both entangled in a mess of lips and tongues and limbs, allowing your bodies to express the adoration that words could not satisfy. In your heated whispers between soft, sensuous kisses, Viscount Hong became Joshua, and Joshua became my love. 

—---------------------------------------------------------

The passionate courtship that ensued had the ton in an uproar. 

It was all over the gossip sheets, and on the lips of every member of the ton: Miss Lee had cast a spell on Viscount Joshua Hong and he was absolutely smitten with her. 

Joshua made no effort to abate the gossip. Instead, flowers and letters arrived at your doorstep every single morning. Some days he would send you presents; pretty little hand mirrors, ribbons, satin gloves…. always accompanied by love notes stating how they made him think of you. (He even once sent you a set of silk garters that was almost opened by Nessie. You scolded him thoroughly and his gifts remained family-appropriate thereafter). 

Joshua danced with you-and only you- at every ball. It caused an immense displeasure among the ladies of the ton and Mrs. Patty even saw fit to complain to you on one occasion. 

"How unfortunate that Viscount Hong will not look at the Duchess anymore," Mrs. Patty bemoaned openly to you. "She would have suited him so well- so rich and with her own title."

"Yes," you said to the older woman calmly. "It is unfortunate indeed that Viscount Hong has no need to marry for riches or titles. He shall have to settle with marrying for love, instead."

Mrs. Patty gave you a sharp look but you heard no more from her on the subject. 

The whispers were not all pleasant, naturally. Many gossiped about how Viscount Hong was clearly marrying down, how your dowry and station and beauty were so far beneath his. It was painful when these whispers reached your ears- but it was a pain that you would gladly bear for the privilege of being with Joshua. To his credit, Joshua swiftly and politely silenced anything that reached his ears. 

The weeks flew by; and on the 30th day from his initial hasty proposal, Viscount Joshua Hong appeared once more on your doorstep just before suppertime. (This time with notice- Dotty had been able to prepare her venison pie.)

"My father is away on business," you informed Joshua as you led him to the dining room where your siblings were all waiting for supper to be served. "So I am afraid that you will not be able to ask for his permission to  propose to me again."

"How unfortunate," Joshua said with a chuckle as Lily ran up to him and greeted him with a hug. He lifted her into his arms easily and set her down in her seat at the table. "It would be very inappropriate to propose to you without permission- but whose permission shall I seek?"

Chan piped up. "You could ask Jihoon."

Jihoon looked up from his plate with a raised eyebrow. "I would not dare to assume such a monumental responsibility. You will have to seek permission elsewhere."

"Seokmin?" Joshua asked. 

Seokmin shrugged. "Ask me again after supper. I am too hungry to grant any permissions at the moment."

Joshua chuckled. "Chan?"

Chan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I could be persuaded… for the price of an Arabian horse, perhaps?"

"Absolutely not," you said firmly. 

Joshua settled down into his seat and turned to your little sister Lily, who was looking up at him with a big smile and a gap in her teeth. 

"What shall I do, Lily?" Joshua asked her with a mock sigh. "I had hoped to propose to your elder sister tonight, but your father is not in town and none of your brothers will grant me permission."

Lily frowned. "Why do you need permission?"

"It is good manners to seek the permission of a woman's loved ones before making an offer to her."

"Then I shall grant you permission, Viscount Hong! You may marry my sister."

You couldn't hold back your laugh; Nessie giggled and the corner of even Jihoon's lips curved upwards. Joshua gracefully accepted her permission and then turned to you with his usual handsome, charming smile. 

"Well, Miss Lee; what say you? Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?" Joshua asked you with a chuckle. Lily looked up at you expectantly with big eyes. 

You smiled back at Joshua. 

"Well, since Lily has granted her permission…"

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes, Viscount Hong. I would be honoured to become your wife."

—--------------------------------------------------------

[fayes-fics]

Doctor’s Orders

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU

Summary: Someone decides to play doctor to ameliorate your bad day…

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, doctor/patient roleplay, dom/sub tones, ‘medical examination’ with use of stethoscope and latex gloves, voluntary breathplay, cardiophilia, vaginal fingering, edging.

Word Count: 4.5 k

Authors Note: this is a long-awaited (9 months!) request fill for the lovely @eleanor-bradstreet. My dear, I hope this is somewhat worth the wait. To anyone medically trained, yes, I know what he does is wrong/inaccurate, but that’s the whole point: he’s a somewhat clueless but enthusiastic roleplaying boy, not a real doctor. Thank you to @colettebronte for the read-through and suggestions. Enjoy! <3

It’s been one of those spectacularly shit days at work. When you get to your boyfriend’s flat, all you want to do is shower, crash out and watch brainless TV together.

“Bad day?” Benedict intuits, wandering over from the kitchen, casual in shorts and a t-shirt, as you drop your bag like a tonne of bricks near his front door and pout.

“Hate my job,” you whine, burying your head into his shoulder as he chuckles affectionately, pulling you into his arms and busses a kiss onto your temple.

“No, you don’t; you love your job. You just didn’t love it today,” he smiles into your hair.

“Urgh, fine, yes, Mr EQ, yes, that's true,” you huff his neck, enjoying his clean scent.

“Come with me, my stressed-out noodle,” he offers good-naturedly, withdrawing from the embrace and lacing your fingers with his. He backs up, pulling you along with him further into the flat.

“Where are we going?” you pout again.

“To eat, I made us dinner,” he smiles, something melting in your chest at the sweet gesture. 

“Do I have time to shower first?” you ask, wanting to remove all physical traces of this workday from your skin.

“Of course, be my guest,” he nods towards his room, with the en suite bathroom beyond, and you drop a kiss on his cheek as you go.

—

Fifteen minutes later, you emerge freshly showered and wearing some of his clothes- a t-shirt that swamps you and jogging bottoms you have to roll up at the waist. You take a seat at the kitchen island and tuck into the amazing-smelling food he has laid out, even giving you a comedic bow as you reenter the room.

The food tastes like heaven, and you can't stop the appreciative moans at the flavour explosion on your tongue.

“Fuck Ben, this is delicious,” you assert as you swallow the mouthful.

His face lights up with that beguiling smile that hooked you in the first place all those months ago, and you can't help but lean in and give him a quick peck.

“So do you want to talk about the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day? Or is this more of a big glass of wine and stfu sort of deal?“ he hedges amiably, assessing your needs.

You sigh as you finish your next bite. “Honestly? I don't know. I’m so stressed about it all I sort of don’t want to talk about it. I feel like I need to be one of those Regency ladies who is prescribed a trip to the seaside for my nerves, you know?” you jest, circling your empty fork in the air to highlight your point.

He barks a laugh. “Funny you should say that; I was just reading a book about hilarious historical cures.”

“Yeah…?” your interest piqued.

“Dorset left it out,” he explains, referring to his roommate, a junior doctor at Guys Hospital. “It's hilarious. But I don't think they would diagnose you with a trip to the seaside, at least not based on what I’ve read.”

You swivel on your stool to face him. “Oh no? Then what would I have been prescribed, Dr Bridgerton?” you jest, leaning your chin on your hand and arching a challenging brow. But you don't miss how his pupils dilate a fraction as you address him such.

He turns towards you with a laconic smile. “You likely would have been prescribed a course of pelvic stimulations.”

You are glad you hadn't taken another bite of dinner, as you would have sprayed him with food with that spit take.

“What?!? No!” you laugh incredulously.

“Don't believe me? Go look,” he challenges, gesturing to the book on the coffee table.

“So… Is that what I think it is? Women would literally be told, medically, to masturbate?” you giggle, disbelieving.

“Oh no,” he corrects. “You wouldn't do it; the doctor would.”

“What the…??”

“Yup… ‘to alleviate the female hysterics’,” he chimes, affecting an old-timely announcer voice.

“With what?” you ponder aloud, still utterly perplexed.

“Hands, I would assume,” he breezes. “Why? Would you like a helping hand?” he winks, wiggling his eyebrows comically.

“I mean….” you trail off, still laughing but feeling a tiny buzz between your legs at the idea. “I'm not going to say no… Doctor Bridgerton,” you banter back.

Benedict puts down his fork, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows his bite of food and turns slowly towards you, an enigmatic glint in his eye.

“Well, now, you will need a thorough medical examination before I can determine if such a prescription is even the correct one,” he throws out, still with a jovial air, but the dropped octave is decidedly suggestive.

“How long until I can get an appointment?” you shoot back, feeling the atmosphere in the room shift, the dynamic between you playful but with a definite undercurrent of heat now.

“The doctor is always in… for you,” he answers, a hand landing heavily on your knee. “If you are ready, please go wait in the exam room,” Benedict responds, signalling to the sofa, that hand squeezing slightly. “The doctor can be right with you.”

You giggle and shoot him a ‘Are we really doing this?’ look. When he nods, you wiggle off the stool and drift over to the sectional as he disappears down the hallway, your half-eaten dinners now very much abandoned. Little butterflies in your stomach as you perch, eagerly awaiting his return.

When he re-enters the room, you almost forget how to breathe. He has obviously raided his flatmate's room and come out wearing a white doctor’s overcoat, his shapely calves bare beneath the hem, a stethoscope slung casually around his shoulders. He has also dug out his reading glasses to complete the look. He is so utterly convincing you don't know what to think, except…. Oh fuck yes.

“Good afternoon, Miss y/l/n,” he greets, stepping effortlessly into the roleplay. “I'm Dr Bridgerton. Tell me, what ails you today?” 

He sits on the coffee table right in front of you, looking at you expectantly for your response.

“Hello, doctor,” you begin, stilted, still a little discombobulated by his appearance and how utterly aroused you are by it. “I… I am overworked in my job and don't know the best way to relieve the stress I feel….” 

“Well, I am sorry to hear that. Let us do a basic examination so I can rule out any possible physical ailments and go from there.” Before you can respond, he produces disposable gloves from his overcoat pocket and snaps them on, your tummy fluttering at the sight of them pulling taunt around his long fingers. 

Oh, he means it.

He leans in, his hands cupping your jaw, warm even through the latex. You whimper quietly, realising he is pretending to feel the lymph nodes beneath your ear for swelling. But he doesn't let go; he just stares you down, his eyes glittering in the lamp glow. 

“Say ahhh,” he prompts.

You open your mouth instinctively, just like at the doctor’s. He pivots a hand so his thumb gently presses down on your tongue as he peers into your mouth.

“Hmm, I see no evidence of an oral infection. But I should check via other means too, to be thorough,” he murmurs, pupils dilating as you cheekily close your lips around his thumb and suck on it suggestively. The powdery flavour on the glove somehow just heightens the heat you feel spreading inside.

“Behave please, Miss,” he rebukes, but his actions say otherwise - extracting his thumb and trailing your saliva in a line down over your chin, your neck, resting it in your suprasternal notch as his fingers curl around your neck and tug you towards him.

His kiss is deep and breathtaking. His tongue unfurls into your mouth and probes yours as if this, too, is a thorough examination. You follow his lead, letting him dictate the terms, wanting to follow wherever he is going with this.

“I think we can rule out anything in your mouth being the problem,” he opines drolly over your lips. 

“Thank you, doctor,” you respond coquettish.

“Let me listen to your lungs to ensure there are no respiratory problems. Remove your clothing, please,” he orders brusquely, sitting back.

“All of it?” you inhale sharply.

“I suppose just your top for now,” he revises, looking a tad impatient.

When you whip off the top to reveal you are without a bra, his eyes flash, and the tip of his tongue pokes out as your nipples pebble in the cool air of the room. A wave of something behind your ribs as he unfurls the stethoscope from around his neck and places it in his ears.

“Please keep your hands at your sides at all times. And beware, this may be cold,” he warns.

You squeak as the cool metal is placed onto the flesh above your left breast, your hands curling around the sofa edge by your thighs so you keep them as told.

“Breath in deeply for me,” he instructs, and you do, taking a deep inhale, feeling your body bloom with his proximity as his face squints in concentration. When he doesn't say exhale, you hold, unsure what else to do, your lungs feeling tight. It seems much longer than necessary. “And out”

He drags the bell over your sternum to the same spot on the right side. 

“Again” he orders. You follow the instructions, taking a deep breath. “Hold it,” he alerts, as you start to feel the struggle for air. You do his bidding, feeling that trademark ache under your ribs under the exertion. “And release,” he instructs just as you want to disobey.

“Good,” he rumbles, “just one more.”

You pant lightly as he drags the scope down between your breasts, then jump as he presses it low into the sensitive spot where your ribs meet on your diaphragm. 

“In and hold.”

As you do, he tilts forward and suddenly seizes a nipple between his teeth. You make a strangled noise in your closed mouth, a zipping thrill right down to your clit. The surprise makes air escape out your nose, fingers grasping the cushion.

“No,” he gruffs into your breast, not looking up at you. “I told you to hold. You hold your breath until I say you can release,” he lectures. “Now breath in and hold it,” his voice taking on a steely edge that makes your pussy constrict.

Wordlessly, you do as told, and this time, he swaps to your other nipple, biting down, then lathing with his hot tongue as you struggle—tight lungs, intense pressure behind your cheeks. The thronging pleasure around where he teases you makes it an almost impossible task; starting to struggle a little, your body twitching, fingers and toes flexing.

“Let it out,” he permits, and you open your mouth, the air escaping in a loud ‘pahhhh’ sound.

“Well, I think your lungs sound very healthy,” he breezes nonchalantly as if this is just how a doctor does an exam.

“That’s good,” you defer to his faux expertise even as you feel his saliva drying on your areola. 

“Now, let's test your heart,” he proceeds, pulling the stethoscope from his ears so it rests around his neck. “Remove the rest of your clothing now, please, Miss.”

“Is that strictly necessary, doctor? Just to listen to my heart?” you waver, even as your hands go to the ties at your waistband.

“I am the doctor here, am I not?” he counters, raising a brow.

“Yes,” you demure, a pulse around your clit at how thoroughly he inhabits this role.

“You may find it easier to stand,” he chuckles as he watches you shuffling, struggling to remove your bottoms while seated. 

So you do as he suggests, his breath ghosting over the sensitive skin around your belly button as you push the loose jersey material over the swell of your hips. He growls at the other surprise lurking—you wear no underwear, your bare slit inches from his face as the clothing pools around your feet, now utterly naked.

“Is this okay, doctor?” you simper, looking down at him sitting on the coffee table as he finally tilts his head to look at your face.

“Lay down on the exam table,” he commands, his pointer finger jabbing towards the chaise.

“Make me…”

Your tongue rebels before your brain can engage, wanting to see how much he will take control if you act out. He springs to his feet, towering over you, inches from you, and grasps the nape of your neck, forcing you to look up at him.

“Are you questioning my methods?” he interrogates, his hold strong but not hurting.

Oh, yes, Benedict, well done.

“No, Doctor,” you simper, attempting to look innocent but knowing your eyes must be fully dilated by now, distracted by the pulse you see in his throat.

“I need to be very thorough before I can diagnose you accurately, Miss,” he cautions. “Do you hear me?”

“Yes, doctor.” 

“Good. Now lay down,” he instructs brusquely, releasing his grip.

You drop to the sofa and lay out for him, a thrill zipping over your skin. He places a large cushion beneath your neck and head so you are tilted up and can see down the plain of your naked body.

“Now be very still and be very quiet. Keep your hands at your sides. Whatever I do to you is to ensure your heart is healthy. Do you understand me?” he tutors, his eyes roaming your body covetously.

“Yes, doctor,” you confirm, knowing your chest is rising and falling rapidly, the anticipation burning in your being.

He places the stethoscope directly over your heart and loops it back into his ears, the cool metal now a balm against your flushed skin.

“You have a good strong heartbeat,” he states casually, “But it is a little slow for my liking….”

His gloved hand loops around the leg closest to him and hauls it wide into his lap, your knee brushing a prominent bulge under the overcoat that makes your insides clench at the very thought of his cock.

“Stay still.” 

His clipped reminder is delivered as he trails his fingertips along your inner thigh, his other hand still holding the stethoscope against your chest. Your breath stutters as his latex-covered fingers nudge your folds, already weeping.

“Well, I see there is certainly no problem with your ability to get aroused,” he intones smokily with a tantalising brush over your clit. 

His moves are unrushed, his touch maddeningly light, not nearly enough, barely a glance over your soaked flesh, making you ache for more. After a few moments, you whine and defiantly attempt to push into his touch.

“Did I not tell you to be still and quiet?” he arches an eyebrow, and you pout but still yourself and fold your lips inwards under your teeth. “That’s better. Now let's see what happens when I….”

He expertly plunges two long fingers into your pussy, your arousal leaking over his gloves as he does so. He hisses his approval at your heated cling, pushing deep as you swallow your gasp, biting your lip to prevent any more sound from escaping. His fingers hook, and his wrist twists in slow corkscrew turns, dragging thoroughly over your walls as if giving you an internal exam. You crave more: more fingers, movement, friction, more of anything, your fingernails scratching against the fibres of the sofa, keeping them at your sides as told, even as you itch to grab his wrist and direct his motions.

“Interesting,” he mutters, his fingers swirling slowly, probing inside as he drags the scope fractionally on your sternum.

You utter a silent curse, your body already quivering. The room filled only with the sound of your ragged breathing and the sodden noise from between your legs as he leisurely rocks his gloved fingers into and out of your pussy, you suctioning around his knuckles, the stretch with each stroke making you want to beg for him to make you come.

“Your heart is definitely strong,” he declares, “but I think we need to put it to the test properly.”

His thumb presses onto your clit, and it's like a lightning bolt through your being. Something about the fact it's not his skin on yours lends an extra frisson. You can feel the warmth of his pad behind the latex barrier as he flicks against your swollen nub.

“More, please, Doctor Bridgerton, please,” you entreat desperately, attempting to tilt your pelvis to ride his hand.

He groans at your use of his name, not chastising you for vocalising. His rigid cock brushes your knee held in his lap as he surges his hips fractionally, your legs spread obscenely wide as he finger fucks you, his stethoscope leaving a circular imprint on your chest, almost bearing his weight into your skin. God help you both if his flatmate cuts his night shift short.

“Your bpm is rising,” he reports as his fingers move faster, wringing filthy noises from your body now, pushing harder with every stroke, his thumb circling your clit with unerring pressure. You just moan a litany of ‘Dr Ben’, and ‘yes’ and ‘please don’t stop’ as you spiral higher.

“That's it, yes, that's what I like to hear,” he encourages, “it's like music.” 

Even you can tell your heart is thumping now, hearing it loud in your own ears as the blood rushes to your head. Just as you are about to crest, he suddenly stops his ministrations and withdraws his fingers. You cry out as he rests the soaked glove on your lower belly, pressing down softly from the outside on that spot that aches for more, your own juices dripping down between your bum cheeks.

“Shhh shh,” he pacifies, the scope he still holds with his other hand feeling heavy on your flesh as his prideful gaze travels up your panting body, gleeful at his ability to do this to you. 

You plead with your eyes as his eyes finally reach your face, silently asking him to finish.

“Wonderful, your heartbeat is so strong in my ears,” he sounds almost wistful, dreamy. 

Your breathing slows, even as you feel the burn of an orgasm so denied, your pelvis throning, your clit painfully engorged.

“Hmm, let’s go again, shall we?” he smirks.

That’s all the warning you get before he plunges his fingers back inside, this time using three, the latex glove squeaking slightly around his palm. You scream and cant your body up off the sofa to the point he briefly lets go of the scope; his glove presses down on your diaphragm, forcing you back flat so you cannot ride his fingers like you want to.

“Please, doctor…” you beseech, voice reedy and wanton, uncaring about anything but being hurled over that divine edge.

“The more you ask, the less I am inclined to deliver,” he menaces. “I will just edge you all night and listen to your heart thumping so hard for me it sounds like it wants to break out from under your ribs.” he jerks the scope pointedly over your breastbone. 

You close your eyes and bite your lip, resigning yourself to obey. That he might keep you on edge for so long, you cannot bear—you need to come like you need air.

His handsome face is smug as he once again probes your body from inside, almost experimenting based on the tiny whimpers you make. He jabs a spot that makes your entire body spasm, and a crooked, dangerous smile spreads over his features.

“Oh, look what we have found,” his chest resonant with pitch, the tone dark and sweet.

Once again, you beg silently, but he indulges in the tease. Tapping gently on the spot rather than rocking into it, a slow, gentle touch that makes every nerve jangle, like an itch you cannot scratch hard enough.

“I love to see you like this,” he admits breathily as he keeps us at that vexing pace. “So strung out and desperate to come. You would do anything I told you to right now, wouldn't you? If I just promised to let you over the edge.”

You are nodding vigorously before he even finishes his sentence, his triumphant expression almost galling if not for the desire writ large on his face.

“Good,” he snarls and starts to jab on that same spot. Desire roars fire in your veins, and you scream, your body trembling. He leans over and captures one of your nipples in his wet, warm mouth, and you scream again, uncaring what any of his neighbours may think.

You are dangling on the edge, reality bleeding into pleasure when once again he stops, and the noise that escapes your lungs is feral—a wretched groaning wail as an inferno licks around every edge of your being.

“Listen,” he growls, roughly yanking the tubes from his ear and placing them over yours. The noise is almost deafening, a thumping rhythm so fast it is virtually interpolating and looping upon itself. It's fascinating and life-affirming even as your body cries out, your clit pulsing in tempo with the thrumming beat. Greedily, he grabs them back and places them over his ears again, moving the bell to the right, his breath gusting hard.

“Touch yourself,” he orders gruffly.

It doesn't take moments for your hand to slide between your legs and catch your clit, a hardened, searing nub so wet you can hardly find grip and so distended it doesn't even feel like your body.

He leans possessively over you, a vein in his neck pulsing as he listens intently, his eyes pinging between your face, the scope on your naked chest and your hand between your legs, rubbing vigorously.

When his fingers sink back inside you, your knuckles cradled in his palm as you strum your clit, it hurtles you instantly over. You grasp his bicep as you crest the wave, your whole body held taught then snapping, shuddering and pulsing forcefully around his fingers as you tumble down that abyss, his stethoscope almost bruising your breastbone as you writhe, him singing your praises. You don't recall the next few moments, floating far away as everything is fuzzy, as if behind a gauzy filter. 

“Oh, that was perfect,” he attests sotto voce as you return to yourself, shaking with tony aftershocks. “You should hear how alive your body sounds when you come like that. Fuck that was amazing…” he seems almost dazed, his fingers dormant inside you.

As he withdraws from you, you emit a mewl, overwrought and shaking from the intensity. 

“Well, Miss,” he begins, slipping back into his roleplay. “I can say without a doubt you are very healthy, so no concern there. I can also tell your stress level is much lower now. Thus, I shall be prescribing you a minimum of two orgasms a day. Purely for your health, you understand,” he adds with a knowing smirk.

“Yes, doctor,” you nod drowsily, slurring slightly. “Should I administer them mysel…?”

“No,” he cuts in. “I'm afraid it requires a medical professional such as myself to ensure correct dosage,” his tone gravelly, snapping off the gloves from his hands, balling them up and tossing them aside. “You will need to see me morning and night for at least a month until I can properly assess whether the treatment plan is effective.”

“Yes, Doctor Bridgerton,” you purr sibilant, too strung out to do anything but languidly agree to everything he says.

As you go to close your legs, he grabs your kneecap, preventing you.

“Oh no, we are not done here,” he intones with a tinge of menace.

“No?” you stutter.

“No, I need to be very thorough,” he counters, his voice rich like velvet. His bare fingers trail ticklish patterns over the crease of your knee as he smiles perilously, enjoying keeping you on tenterhooks. “I am nowhere near done with your treatment for the day. You have only had one climax, and I do believe I said you need a minimum of two per day," he reminds you, his stare blistering. 

You watch, almost stupified, as he removes the stethoscope and swivels to kneel between your legs, grabbing them and pushing them high and wide apart, the burning stretch along your inner thighs making you gasp.

“Now, are you going to do exactly what your doctor tells you to do this time?” he grills, his fingers digging into your flesh, his gaze intense.

“Yes, Doctor.”

“Good,” the word resonates through his being as his hungry stare slips over your body, down between your legs. “Now I think you need something more substantial than fingers, don't you?” he smirks playfully.

“Please, yes, please, Doctor Bridgerton,” you implore, canting your breasts up towards him, your eyes covetously sliding down his body as he hovers over you. Your breath quickens when you see the clear outline of his cock bulging against the overcoat. Oh god, is he naked under there? The thought makes you clench again.

You raise your hands and tug at the collar of his overcoat until the first popper opens, revealing his constellation of freckles. When he doesn't stop you, emboldened, you pull again, each popper relenting, a larger slice of his naked torso revealed with each ping. By the time you are down to the last two, you see the trail of hair from beneath his belly button and moan.

“You have been naked this whole time, doctor?!” your voice hitching almost scratchy.

He grabs your hand away, pressing it into the cushion above your head as he bears you into the sofa with his weight, one of that last fastened poppers snagging cold metal against your swollen clit.

“I cannot ask my patients to be naked if I am not as well, surely?” he rumbles, hot in your ear, his warm chest covering yours. He grabs your other wrist and guides it to the same place. “Now, hold onto the cushion under your head and don't move your hands until I say so,” he orders, his smoulder turning lethal as you do as told. 

He pulls up slightly and yanks the rest of the coat open, throwing it aside, giving you only a fleeting glance before surging his leaking, heated cock right over your slit.

“God, Ben, fuck me,” your errant internal monologue slips from your tongue before you can stop it.

“Who is Ben?” he quips duskily, rocking in a distracting manner, his tip glancing into your folds. “There is only Doctor Bridgerton here tonight.”

“Doctor Bridgerton,” you amend, fingers curling into the seam of the throw cushion, fighting the urge to grab him, “please fuck me.” 

He smiles triumphantly and lowers himself over you so you are swamped by him. 

“Well, as you asked so nicely…” 

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies

Dividers credit: @/firefly-graphics

[sea-owl]

Have an au that made me giggle

So set in a vague spouses friend group type setting.

Penelope gets bored one day and downloads a new game called Bridgerton, an otome game that set in a regency era like world. In the game they have the player take a quiz to place them as different members of the ton and then try to conquer one of the eight romance options, which is the Bridgerton siblings. One of the intresting aspects of this game is that it can also be played multi-player. While each player has to play a different route unless in rival mode they can also play each other's wingman

Of course, as soon as Penelope realized this she made her roommates, Michael and Phillip, play with her too. Then all three of them got the rest of their friend group playing too during the next game night.

Simon ended up as a Duke with daddy issues in the character sheet and the best friend of one of the conquerable characters. Choosing the oldest Bridgerton daughter Daphne as his route, he said choosing any of the younger sisters would feel weird. Plus, he likes the cutscene of Daphne punching a man out.

Kate is the daughter of a second son, and living with her loving stepmother and half-sister. Now Kate is actually trying to get the bad ending with her route, the Viscount Anthony. He irritates her, but every choice she chooses, starting arguments and disagreeing with him, only raises his love bar.

Sophie got an illegitimate daughter of an earl and claimed as a ward in public. Her poor character also has a horrid stepmother. She's not too impressed with her route, the second son Benedict is too much bohemian for her liking, he has sweet moments but overall he's eh. Though he's constantly in her character's space.

Penelope got the daughter of a Baron and secret gossip writer. She thinks her route, the third son Colin, is rather charming, but his constant running away is getting on her nerves. Also, she feels like she made a mistake by choosing the option to thank him after the kiss cutscene.

Phillip got a widower baronet with two kids, come to the ton seeking a marriage of convince. He chose his route, Eloise the second daughter, at random. But he's kinda enjoying the cutscenes from his character's pov with the prank war between his game kids and Eloise.

Michael's character was the spare turned lord and the merry rake of the ton. Ever being the introvert collector, he practically slammed down on that choose button for his route, the third daughter, Francesca.

Gareth for his character also got an illegitimate son, but his stepfather claimed him. Lucy was the orphaned daughter of an earl forced to be under her uncle's care. Kinda by default they got the fourth son and daughter, Gregory and Hyacinth. Gareth did offer to take the Gregory route if Lucy wanted to try her hand at seducing Hyacinth. They're tag teaming because holy shit these youngest two Bridgertons are somehow more unhinged than than the older siblings.

What none of the group of friends know is that the Bridgertons in the game are sentient and they have fallen in love with the new players. It's a race now to find a way to bring their loves in the game or get themselves out.

[burnthoneydrops]

Moonlit Confessions

Synopsis: What was once thought to be a fizzled out attempt at marriage might have a second chance

Warnings: implied fem!reader (use of miss and dance cards for regency style traditions)

Word Count: 1523

a/n: here's the part two of this request !! i didn't think it would take this long but i got a random burst of inspiration last night and finished it up today so here it is! i'm learning i really don't know how to do short slow burn but oh well haha. i hope you lot enjoy!!

This night seemed to be repeating itself. Couples twirl themselves like planets orbiting the sun as the small band plays from their spot in the corner. You stand off to the side, huffing as you glance at your empty dance card, your eyes in a narrow glare as you try to find the reason for its current state. Anthony Bridgerton seemed bound and determined to keep the slots on your dance card name free and had yet to name a reason why. Having resigned yourself to moving past your offer of marriage with no meaningful result, you thought throwing yourself into that which your mother had always wanted would help speed up the healing process. Somewhere along this new stage of your martial quest, Anthony had decided that he did not like any of your new prospects at all and made it his mission to see that each and every one of them failed. 

“Miss Y/N, would by chance-” a gentleman had approached you but was stopped in his tracks, glancing quickly at something behind you before it looked like the fear of god had been instilled in him and backing away slowly. 

You quickly turn around, only to come face to face with Anthony, and the dots begin to connect. This was the third gentleman this evening, and who knows how many that brought the grand total for the week up to? Your mother probably did, you wouldn’t doubt that she was counting off to the side. Your blood begins to boil. In the past few weeks since you had proposed a marriage of convenience to the eldest Bridgerton, your season had been absolute hell and he seemed to only be more interested in your life when you tried not to involve him. 

“What is the matter with you?” You scold, moving closer to him to try and keep the conversation between the two of you. 

“The lemonade tastes a little funny tonight-”

“That is not what I meant and you know it”.

“Lord Garrison is not to be interacted with. He is not worthy of anyone’s time, much less yours”. 

You are slightly moved by his words, though your anger blinds you to much else other than the issue at hand. “Is that for the same reason as Lord Andreas then? Or perhaps Lord Henderson? Or maybe even Lord Clark? But heaven forbid I ever know that reason as you seem so hellbent on never enlightening me!” You seethe, gritting your teeth in an effort to keep your volume down. 

“I am simply keeping your best interests in mind,” Lord Bridgerton answers simply, as if it were obvious. 

“I never asked you to do that! I am not Daphne or Eloise! I am not one of your charges and therefore none of your concern and quite frankly,” you sigh, trying to steady your breathing before you get too riled up, “I thought you made your opinions quite clear at the Beauxton’s ball, so I intended to move on but you are making that quite impossible”. 

“We are still friends, Miss Y/N. Believe it or not, that makes me worry about you,” he replies, though there is something in his eyes, almost like he isn’t saying everything. 

“I never intended for you to worry about me! I am simply trying to lighten the burden that I am to my parents by finding a husband and cushioning our lives with a bit more funding, but when you constantly scare off all of the Lords possibly coming my way, you are ensuring my failure”. 

“You would that quickly give up your interests for the sake of the marriage mart?” 

You glare at him as if he has gone insane, which it frankly sounds like he has. 

“Lest you have forgotten, Lord Bridgerton, not every match is created out of love. Some are created out of necessity, which appears to be my only option”. 

“But what if it isn’t? What if there is someone out there who might secure you that love match and allow you to keep your books?” This seems entirely out of character for the man in front of you. 

“Oh the romantic expert now are we? Last I remember, you were rejecting a poor girl because she tripped over your left foot!” 

Anthony scans the room fervently, as if looking for someone before finding nothing. Instead, he mutters “christ” under his breath and grabs your hand, pulling you toward the open door to the balcony. 

“Lord Bridgerton, where are we-” you huff “where are we going?” He does not respond, choosing instead to drag you through the crowd of people, no doubt collecting pairs of eyes as you two pass. Once the two of you are outside, away from the curious ears of the ton, he faces you, his chest rising and falling at a rapid pace. 

“What has gotten into you Anthony?” You look between his eyes, hoping to catch whatever was the reasoning behind this out of character moment. The night air nips at your collar bones and you shiver slightly from the combination of the sudden cold and being locked under Anthony’s gaze. His silence scares you, and he keeps opening his mouth before shutting it a second later. It is quite unusual to catch the Viscount without words and this is surely the worst you’ve seen.  

“I have not been able to look at any man near you for weeks. Do you know how infuriating it is to see someone else chase after the person who has your heart?”

“Where is this coming from?” 

“You asked me what had gotten into me? You have. You have lodged yourself into my brain and into my heart and I cannot get you out of there to save my life. When you offered marriage I assumed it was a joke and realised too late that I was wrong”. 

“Anthony I-”

“You have consumed me, and I know that I made it clear that I would not marry for love, but watching you sacrifice yourself in such a way has been gnawing at me. Please, tell me you won’t do it”. He looks intently at you, begging both verbally and visually. 

“What are you saying?” 

“Tell me you won’t find another man for whom you would have to give up everything just to please your parents. You know damn well I have enough wealth and resources to remedy any worry and would never make you give up anything. If you do not wish to marry me-” “Marry you?” You try to interrupt, to no avail. 

“Then spare me the rejection and you can head back inside, but I know there is a part of you that feels the same. Allow me to make up for the time I’ve lost being an idiot and please,” he bends down onto one knee, “marry me”. 

“Are you quite finished?” 

He looks at you as if you’d grown a second head. It is clearly not the answer he was expecting, though you doubt any man would be expecting anything other than a “yes” to a question like that. You grab his hands, clasping them between your own and holding them between the two of you as he stands up. 

“If we are going to really do this, then I believe we shall do it properly. To prove you are serious about this, my favourite flowers are lilies and I shall be expecting you with a bouquet of them at my front door tomorrow”. 

“I should have known you were not going to make this easy,” Anthony smiles, though the anxiety of your possible rejection is still running through him. 

“You denied the easy way out, so you seem to have left me no choice,” you counter. 

“But is it a yes?” He raises a brow. 

“Eventually, but who are we to deny ourselves a longer honeymoon period? If you truly want to be wed, then we are to do absolutely everything”. Simply because you enjoyed your studies does not mean that you had never wished for romance. You had known that the majority of what the ton had to offer was men who would strip you of your most favourite hobbies for more motherly and homely activities, but now that you had an offer to keep the former on the table, you were going to relish it. 

“Tomorrow it is then,” his smile grows, squeezing your hands. 

“My mother will be so pleased,” you tease. 

“As will mine, though do not go thinking that I got down on one knee for the sake of our mamas”. 

“You mean to tell me you weren’t proposing to get to my mother? She will be positively offended,” you joke with a smile. 

“You are making me regret my decision,” Anthony teases back. 

“You would never,” you chuckle, pulling the two of you so his back is blocking the view of any passersby to try and keep the whispers at bay for a little longer. This moment is yours, and you intend to keep it that way before it inevitably reaches the ears of the curious partygoers.

[aethon-recs]

(Themed Rec List) 9 Omega Tom Riddle | Voldemort Fics

I recently damn near lost my mind after reading @cannibalinc's new Omega Tom Riddle fic, so it made me wonder how prevalent Omega Tom (or Voldemort) is in Tomarrymort... Pretty rare as it turns out! On AO3, the Alpha Tom Riddle (Alpha Voldemort) tag outpaces the Omega Tom Riddle (Omega Voldemort) tag by a factor of 7 to 1 for Tomarrymort fics 👀

Luckily, there’s been an amazing slate of Tomarrymort authors who’ve dipped their toes into this dynamic, so I was inspired to throw together an Omega Tom | Voldemort themed rec list.

The most interesting theme underlying many of these Omega Tom fics is how Tom manages to find ways to wield power in a world that denies him power, similar to how he overcomes his meagre circumstances in canon. Seeing Tom upend the typical power structures that we see in A/B/O dynamics and break the mould of "weak" Omega expectations results in a very authentic depiction of the manipulative and ruthless Tom (Voldemort) that we know and love 😊

Please mind all the tags and warnings on AO3 before reading — some of these fics contain quite dark subject matter, and this blog abides by the age-old fandom principle of don’t like; don’t read. As always, recs are in alphabetical order by title.

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Tomarrymort Recs (Omega Tom Riddle | Voldemort)

A Matter of Perspective by lemonchase (E, 3k, WIP)

A PWP featuring a very practical Minister Riddle wanting to spend his heat with Auror Potter who is blessed with quite the generously-sized package. They have a very fun chemistry and banter, and seeing Harry sheepish about his god-given gifts is always a treat.

As It Begins by @duplicitywrites (T, 15k, WIP)

I never knew I needed an omegaverse Bridgerton AU in my life, but after reading this, I realized that I 1000% need an omegaverse Bridgerton AU in my life. It was fascinating to follow along as Tom so meticulously thinks through all the machinations and second-order effects of every ball and courting gift and social interaction — the Regency-era courtship-focused setting maps really well onto Tom's social climbing ambitions. Also, the side characters are such a delight as well, especially the handsome and charming Prince Cedric, who emerges as a viable candidate for Tom’s hand as he proposes a courtship with Tom (I’m now kind of obsessed with Prince Cedric after reading this), and there’s plenty of romantic tension, UST, and juicy gossip/drama to keep Tom and Harry occupied and us readers at the edge of our seats.

complete by @cindle-writes (E, 9k, complete)

I thought this was a clever play on the widespread trope of “Voldemort is definitely an Alpha / the assumed top in every circumstance” within the Tomarry ship. In this fic, Harry also (mistakenly) assumes Voldemort must be an Alpha — after all, that's what everyone had always said his whole life. As a result, he doesn’t bother to confirm before adopting Tom, which results in a loss of control that could prove disastrous for both of them.

Enamoured by @itsevanffs (E, 5k, WIP)

Newly presented Omega Tom takes babytrapping schemes to a whole new level in this fic. He is determined to have Harry as his Alpha, and there’s both a layer of Tom wanting to be with Harry to use him to his advantage, as well as a layer of Tom genuinely wanting Harry and craving his scent, his touch, his attentions — and oh, the pining in this fic was so very captivating, especially the last part where Tom comes undone surrounded by Harry’s scent.

Honeyguide by @cannibalinc (E, 7k, complete)

This was such a wild ride, and Tom’s inner voice is both so coldly rational and absolutely hilarious at the same time. Tom is hellbent on seducing Harry, regardless of anything that stands in the way. The rut scene was so intense — probably one of the most intense things I’ve read in all of fanfic — with Harry losing control and Tom facing the consequences of his actions and manipulations (in other words, of being a little shit). The rut was absolutely glorious in how it was depicted, with the snatches of action filtering in and out giving it a very dreamlike, unhinged quality. For Tom to be happy with the outcome of the rut and still want to be with Harry afterwards shows how resolute and strong his will is, which I thought was a very nice depiction of Tom that will stop at nothing to get what he wants.

pearl by @being-luminous (E, 3k, complete)

A lovely depiction of a Harry and Tom dynamic where they’re not quite together but have known each other for a long time, and it’s very sweet how they have an implicit trust in each other, for Tom to want to spend his heat with Harry. They both clearly care about each other, more than what they reveal in words, and it comes out in their comfortable familiarity with each other’s bodies and how they take care of each other’s needs, and I’m left with a smile on my face and a hopeful feeling about their future.

Prison Blues by @metalomagnetic (E, 48k, WIP)

My reaction to each chapter of Prison Blues published has been incoherent screaming—there is a LOT of knotting, there is a LOT of slick, and there is a LOT of Voldemort being an absolute menace and Harry having the biggest heart of gold in the world. Voldemort definitely wields his power as an Omega in this fic — he’s absolutely dripping in the power he holds over others — strutting about and driving all the Alphas around him crazy — it is QUITE the magnificent depiction of Voldemort at his sexiest. I literally have no words to describe how jaw-droppingly knock-out sexy these chapters were, but after each update, I was left in a stunned daze where I didn’t know what to do with myself for the next few hours aside from read and reread each chapter a few more times. And we even get a whole chapter dedicated to Voldemort’s backstory from the time he was at Hogwarts as a newly-presented omega! (Also, did we know there's only 1 fic on AO3 that uses the Omega Voldemort tag, and it’s this one!?? 👀 Omega Voldemort has so much untapped potential!)

Tantrums by @crowcrowcrowthing (E, 5k, complete)

Tom is a straight-up brat in this fic, and his chaotic, destructive tendencies are too funny to read about. Harry happens to be the only one that has a hope of reining Tom in, but Harry’s no perfect role model either, as an impulsive teenager that doesn’t have full control over his instincts. This is a rare example of a fic with beta/omega dynamics, and I thought it was an interesting take on how betas without any special A/B/O biology or instincts can, just as much, succumb to their instincts when confronted with alpha or (in this case) omega biology.

The Ethics of Want by @exarite (E, 10k, complete)

This was the first omegaverse I read in Tomarry, and it's pretty much the perfect beginner omegaverse fic, so if you're just dipping your toes into A/B/O — highly, highly recommend starting here. Tom is SO MANIPULATIVE and SO SCHEMING in this fic, and when he sets his sights on Harry, he is absolutely relentless until he gets his way, including some questionable (and hilarious) scent-marking tactics. There's just something Exarite’s prose that feels like drinking from a bubbly well of champagne — their fics are always so engaging and delightful to read, and the smut is so unbelievably hot, top top tier. Each time I reread this piece, it always feels fresh and just as much of a wild ride as the first time I read it.

*

[scyllas-revenge]

I've been encountering post comments of people flipping out over the Bridgerton S3 teaser clip where Anthony sneaks a kiss on Kate while dancing in front of the ton. It made me realize that Boromir was quite bold and brazen with the way he interacted with Reader (Aerdis) in "Breathe".

Getting so close and intimate, publicly, with a lady who was not his wife or even anything?? All the pearl clutching!! 👀😂

Real question, though: what are your thoughts, opinions, or headcanons about social protocols and restrictions in Gondor/Minas Tirith regarding interactions between unmarried men and women? Do you see it as a climate similar to the Regency Era, or something less restrictive? I guess it wasn't super conservative, considering the Farawyn public canoodling... unless that was a great scandal in itself. 😂

Oooh I love this question! (and I'm so excited for Bridgerton S3!!) Here are entirely too many of my thoughts XD

You know how much I love your Breathe fic, and I think acting a bit outside of social norms fits Boromir very well- he seems like the type to feel every emotion very intensely, and while he's very aware of social norms, he's not going to let them get in his way for long. (be still my heart, fetch me my smelling salts at once)

That being said I don't personally imagine Gondorian society to be quite as restrictive as regency-era England, just because the regency era was SO restrictive. There were SO many social taboos and particular ways you had to navigate social settings, and while I'm not an expert on them all, a lot of aspects of Jane Austen's books still stand out to me as just insane, like never referring to your spouse by their first name, even when you're just chilling at home with your kids. No hand touching if you're not wearing gloves, no dancing with someone more than twice in one setting (unless you're making your intentions VERY clear), etc. And alongside that, you get a lot of class restrictions too, like only certain pastimes being considered "proper," and everything from manners of speaking and sitting and chewing your food can mark you as uncouth and poor (I'm thinking of Emma here, and all the minute ways Emma has to teach Harriet to be an upstanding member of society. It's exhausting!).

I think some of these taboos would carry over to Gondor, like needing a chaperone to hang out with a person of the opposite sex before you're engaged, and minimal touching or displays of affection (and yes, I think the Farawyn kiss was VERY scandalous, people were probably gossiping about that one for ages lol). But some of the smaller more restrictive social norms of regency society probably don't apply (unless I want them to, for heightened drama).

Overall, I'm going to say that 1. social norms probably are bent out of whack a bit both during and a while after the war, just because people had more important things to worry about, and 2. Boromir and Faramir are a half-step away from royalty in Gondor, so their behavior probably gets a pass most of the time anyway.

As for the class restrictions, I think once again Boromir gets to bend a lot of rules here- he's probably very aware of how other nobles behave vs commoners, but I don't think he cares much and is probably a bit sick of all the hoops higher-class people have to jump through just to navigate a basic social situation. I also think that, because he's a soldier, he's more attuned to the rest of his citizens than other nobles might be. Plus he's had to cook his own meals, take care of his own horse, clean and sharpen his own weapons, mend his own clothes while on the road, etc. Nothing is beneath him by now. That was probably true for a lot of people during the war regardless of wealth or class, so I'm imagining a bit of the class division kind of dissolving, at least temporarily, after the war. Everyone emerged from it in different places with a different view of the world than when they started.

Finally, I personally really like the idea of some Ancient Roman influence on Gondor (they have aqueducts, I just know it! And I love the idea of Gondorian women wearing those Ancient Roman woven hairstyles) but unfortunately I haven't been able to find much on Ancient Roman societal norms online outside of how they approach meals (which we can tell from the books and films doesn't really apply anyway). So that idea might be a bit of a dead end.

Anyway, thanks for the ask!!! And sorry I wrote such a long rambling response, but you hit me with such an interesting question XD I couldn't help it!

[newtonsheffield]

Molly, I so badly badly need more of you writing Kate and Anthony in their peek OG regency era. Pleaseeeee could we see just a little bit of their interaction in the ballroom, in the recent months after their marriage?!?!?! I would love to see how badly the towns react towards the glowing blushing newly weds?

Okay but let's... revisit Hearts and Flowers a year later

Because you know the show's going to forget they said it was annual

Kate could feel their eyes on her everywhere she went these days, When she went to the modiste with Francesca, she and Violet bolstering the girl's quiet confidence as she looked at herself in the mirror a little nervously.

Both Lady Bridgertons accompanied Miss Francesca to the modiste this morning, Heaven only knows what required such attention.

When she walked through the park with newton on his leash and Anthony's arm in hers while he whispered wicked nothings in her ear.

Lord Bridgerton was seen being rather attentive to his wife this morning last, perhaps he, unlike most men, does not subscribe to the theory that women need be left alone to shepherd new life into the world.

And now even here, at Aubrey Hall where she and Anthony had made a home, where they'd hidden from the world under the bedsheets upstairs Anthony poking his head out as the door of their chambers opened with his hair rumpled in a million directions a boyish grin on his face Ah! Sarah! Lady Bridgerton won't be requiring your services for the next... three days. Take some time off! See your family! Full pay! Where they'd married in the very room they were standing in now with only their families around them, cheering as the vicar had declared them man and wife and Anthony had held her so gently against his chest and his voice had whispered, Finally.

And now they'd done what they must, they'd allowed the Ton inside to peer over them, inspect them, as they'd been wanting to since their engagement had been announced. She'd worried over it for weeks, her stomach churning with anxiety as her mother in law had nodded approvingly at the invitations she'd selected, and the food, and finally the flower arrangements, Kate, Darling these are beautiful. And Anthony hadn't seemed a bit bothered by it. In fact, very little seemed to bother him these days. Though she knew he tutted and sighed, and spent hours in his study pouring over accounts, worrying over Benedict who seemed suddenly apathetic towards the things that had given him joy, and Eloise who had scoffed before trodding on Lord Arthur's foot last week, and who sat with Gregory for hours looking over his work: As soon as he saw her he smiled. Jumped from his seat the wrap his arms around her, breathing her in deeply. There you are Darling, I've missed you. And she rolled her eyes though she left a kiss between his eyebrows. It's been 30 minutes my love. And of course he hadn't seen the problem. He'd merely swanned into the drawing room, picking up the samples of cake, his words muffled by the cake.

"These are excellent!"

And she'd hissed at him, "You are useless to me, get away."

His voice had dropped low and his teeth had nipped at her ear "Oh I know a way I can be very useful to you, Viscountess."

She'd taking a shuddering breath before she'd stood calmly and said, "Well I'll need you to show me, I'm afraid, Lord Bridgerton."

And he hadn't seemed to see the problem even now. Even as they'd stood on the drive greeting guest after guest, he'd nodded politely, pretending to know who was going to get out of the next carriage as if he'd paid any attention to the guest list when she'd shown it to him, instead of just grinning at her, Whatever you think is best.

Anthony still didn't see the problem, as they stood in the ballroom, the entire room still overtly curious as they interacted. As they stared at the woman who had made London's least enthusiastic groom a very happy husband.

"Anthony," Kate sighed as she stood to the side of the dance floor, smiling beside Violet. "What are you doing loitering about?"

"Anyone would think you didn't enjoy my company." Anthony mused, shuffling a little closer as though making to hide behind her ad Lady Cowper looked in his direction.

"I do enjoy your company, But it's hard to do so with you hovering like a worried mother duck over me and our child."

"His father was just the same way when I was pregnant with Anthony." Violet sighed. "Like a worried chicken with his head cut off the entire time."

"He's lucky he's awfully handsome." Kate bit back a smile at Anthony's indignant expression as she took a sip of her lemonade.

"Oh his father was that as well."

"Ladies if I may remind you, I am within earshot." Anthony said dryly, shuffling closer to Kate once again, his hand closing around the light fabric of her skirt.

"We know, dearest. Truly, what do you think married ladies discuss at such-"

"Violet!" An older matron, Kate couldn't quite recall the name of, cut Violet off as she made her way over, "I thought I'd take the opportunity to congratulate you on another lovely party. A true success."

"I'm afraid I can take very little credit this year, Lady Fitzroy." Violet smiled gently, nudging Kate forward, "You must have met my daughter in law, Lady Bridgerton. Hasn't she shown us all a wonderful time. And of course, you remember the Viscount."

Lady Fitzroy's eyes widened in surprise, as though she hadn't noticed Kate and even less did she seem to expect Anthony to be peeking out from behind her. "I'm not sure I've had the pleasure."

Lady Fitzroy moved on quickly, looking curiously back over her shoulder as she took Violet with her, though Kate was suspicious that had more to do with Lady Fitzroy's path taking her much closer to Eloise who appeared to be reading a book behind a flower arrangement.

Anthony's hand flew out, taking Kate's empty glass, replacing it with a small cake. "You haven't eaten in three quarters of an hour."

Kate sighed, "Sweet of you, little duck."

"I'm not sure, I-"

"Lord Bridgerton." A man's voice cut Anthony's off, The earl of Gloucester appearing from nowhere with a gallant bow in Kate's direction. "I fear it would be very remiss of me not to ask our hostess for a dance this evening."

"Oh well, I-"

Anthony clicked his tongue, a flicker of irritation crossing his face before he sighed. "I'm afraid, Lady Bridgerton's dance card is rather full this evening, Gloucester, perhaps another time."

The man walked off with a slightly disappointed expression before Kate tutted, "Well, thank you for getting me out of that, but I rather think he might notice when I'm not seen on the dance floor all evening."

Anthony tutted, placing her now empty plate on a passing footman's tray. "I think you'll find that wasn't a lie."

Anthony flicked at something tied to her wrist that hadn't been there before, Kate's eyes widening in surprise.

He;d tied a dance card there, pink ribbon hanging from her wrist every line filled with familiar handwriting-

Anthony, Viscount Bridgerton

Tears pricked at her eyes as she stared down at it, Anthony already tugging her towards the dance floor, the same dance that had been the very first they'd ever danced together striking up around them.

"When did you do that?" Kate gasped, as they fell into step, a little breathless.

"I'm very nimble fingered, you should know that." He winked at her, and Kate couldn't help the giggles she dissolved into, and neither it seemed could Anthony.

The New Lady Bridgerton's first heart and flowers ball went off this week past with nary a hitch. The food was lovely, the flowers beautiful and the lady in question's dress was truly something extraordinary. But the real spectacle was Lord and Lady Bridgerton themselves who were not seen off the dance floor all night and served as a true reminder of what everyone ought to be searching for on the marriage mart: Love.

[justzawe]

‘I said, put me in a corset asap’: Zawe Ashton on period dramas, pregnancy and embracing silliness

After a series of harrowing roles, the former Fresh Meat star is rediscovering her ‘joyful side’, with a Bridgerton-esque romp – and a baby on the way with Tom Hiddleston

by Liv Little

It’s the day after Zawe Ashton’s 38th birthday when we speak. She’s wearing a bright red, Regency-inspired, rose-covered headdress; she’s had it on since her celebrations with friends and family the night before. “I’ve worn this all weekend. And I thought: ‘Shall I act cool and take it off for Liv? Or will she appreciate it on some level?’” she says with a laugh.

Ashton is still buzzing from the birthday love – as well as, perhaps, the early praise for her leading role in the period film drama Mr Malcolm’s List. She insists she avoids looking at reviews or engaging with what the public think, but it’s impossible to remain completely in the dark. “Obviously, you end up hearing things … That’s the thing I’m hypersensitive to, what that means for the film-makers especially,” she says earnestly.

This year marks the start of a new chapter for Ashton, both personally – she’s expecting her first child with her fiance, Tom Hiddleston – and professionally: alongside Mr Malcolm’s List, she has a villainous role in superhero blockbuster The Marvels on the horizon. Both developments will bring a level of attention she’s unused to; despite starting out in showbiz when she was just six years old (she appeared as an extra in the beloved British-Caribbean sitcom Desmond’s), Ashton has managed to avoid the chaotic life of many who find themselves in the spotlight from a young age.

I ask if she deliberately keeps what is most sacred to her private. “I’m not Gwyneth Paltrow. I don’t know how to do that thing,” she says, by which she means broadcasting the most intimate parts of her life for the world to dissect. Although, let’s be real, that is already happening without Ashton’s permission: ever since she and Hiddleston were first linked in late 2019, after they starred together in the London revival of Harold Pinter’s Betrayal, the internet has been full of feverish speculation about their relationship.

Still, she doesn’t mean to cast shade on Paltrow. “I mean, I love the Goop of it all,” she adds, referring to Paltrow’s Netflix series Sex, Love and Goop, which takes couples on a journey of sexual and spiritual awakening. “I binged it in one night,” she says. It’s an admission you could never imagine being made by the character she’s best known for – the achingly edgy Vod from Fresh Meat, the cult TV comedy set in a Manchester student flatshare. In contrast to Vod’s take-no-prisoners attitude, Ashton is all jokes and smiles, radiating warmth.

Though Ashton closely guards her private life, during the recent press tour for Mr Malcolm’s List she was unable to hide her very visible pregnancy. “That’s the hysterical thing,” she says. “No one wants to go on a press tour at the same time that they want to keep their personal life private, but that’s my ‘contractual professional obligation’,” she says, partly serious, partly making light of the situation.

Ashton landed in New York for the film’s premiere just as news broke that Roe v Wade had been overturned. “I thought: ‘Oh God, there’s nothing more tone deaf I could be doing right now than promoting a lighthearted movie.’ I was also very aware that my presence in that promotion would be as a pregnant person.” She argues that it’s more important than ever that the different journeys of child-bearing people are acknowledged. “We’re having very important conversations about the autonomy we have over our bodies. What better autonomy could I have than just doing it how I wanted to do it?” Ashton is conscious that not everyone has had the same experience. “I have so many friends who have been through real grief, with regards to pregnancy and conception. I hope I can represent anyone on this journey, in whatever way they’re on it. Cos it doesn’t get more ancient than this,” she says jokingly, nodding to the fact that she’s having her first child in her late 30s.

Ashton grew up in east London in a tight family unit with her Ugandan mother and English father, both teachers. She started acting when she was a child and has never been short of work; as well as her breakout role in Fresh Meat, she had parts in films ranging from St Trinian’s 2 to Nocturnal Animals, and more recently appeared in the fourth season of The Handmaid’s Tale. Yet before Mr Malcolm’s List, she had never starred in a period drama.

The film, set in 19th-century Britain, follows the hilarious and often devious character of Julia Thistlewaite (Ashton), who is in her fourth season of seeking a match in high society and at very real risk of being labelled past it. Her character plots revenge against the eligible bachelor Mr Malcolm (Sopé Dìrísù) after he rejects her for failing to meet all the criteria on his list of attributes for a prospective wife. She enlists the help of her cousin Selina (Freida Pinto), with whom she hopes he will fall in love, only for her to break his heart or at least massively embarrass him. It’s a role that makes the most of Ashton’s comic timing, and it’s unsurprising that her performance has been the most talked about of the film.

It wasn’t until watching Bridgerton that Ashton imagined finding a place for herself within the period genre. After falling in love with a world filled with romance, gossip and high tea, she sent her team an email saying: “‘Put me in a corset asap’ – but I didn’t think of it as on course to happening!” With the serendipity of the best romantic comedy, it wasn’t long before the call for Mr Malcolm’s List came through. The actor who had previously been cast in the lead role had dropped out, and Ashton was given just 24 hours to decide whether she wanted it. Despite being second choice, she accepted enthusiastically. “You mustn’t have any ego about this as an actor,” she says. “Film-making is intricate, it’s difficult, it’s expensive, it’s weird. And wherever you end up is wherever you end up. So I was just stoked to do it, because I had just watched Bridgerton, and I’m not going to lie, I thought: ‘The door is open!’”

That wasn’t always the case.

Ashton tells me that when she was studying acting in Manchester, teachers adopted a white-centric approach to period drama. “There was this terrible time when you had to do period pieces where the reference, or sometimes the explicit message, was that anyone of colour in the cast had to imagine themselves as white,” she recalls with dismay. “That’s actually what a director said to us as a group when we were doing a Restoration comedy. And you can imagine the comedy immediately left the bones of the seven people of colour.” Ashton, of course, is far from the first Black actor to share the traumas of being a minority within a majority-white acting class, which is why she’s now taking the time to deliver talks and connect with other students. “I’ve decided to dedicate myself to that this year,” she says.

As a self-described “creative chameleon”, it didn’t make sense to Ashton that the artistic fantasies of others didn’t stretch to seeing Black people step into worlds or characters unknown. “I couldn’t understand why the imagination I had as a reader of classic pieces was not being interpreted on screen.” She finds it absurd that it has taken almost 32 years of acting for her to be tasked with putting on a bonnet. “Sometimes there’s this undertone, like: ‘Well done for retaining enough energy to wait for this moment to happen.’ And that’s a little bit how it feels to step into period drama.”

Many of the roles Ashton played before Mr Malcolm’s List had been harrowing (with the notable exception of Fresh Meat). Earlier this year she starred as a survivor of sexual assault in Lucy Kirkwood’s urgent 25-minute BBC drama Maryland, a work filled with the collective anger of women fed up with a failing criminal justice system. In Dreams of a Life (released in 2011, the same year Fresh Meat premiered), she played the near-silent role of Joyce Carol Vincent, the north London woman whose dead body lay in front of her television for three years before anyone noticed she was gone.

The intensity of those characters’ worlds sits in stark contrast to the jubilance of Ashton’s latest part. She revelled in the chance to go light. “The process of getting into this character was like allowing myself to feel joyful, silly, tender, clumsy, goofy, soft.” These are, she suggests, states of being that Black women are often assumed not to experience. “I thought: ‘Why would anyone think that my peers and I were incapable of this joyful, tender thing?’ What’s that about?”

You’re allowed to play a fun role, I point out. “I am absolutely allowed!” she says. “I realised that for myself at some point in filming. That was a huge penny that dropped.”

She reflects on a protest she attended in east London recently, in response to the story of Child Q, the 15-year‑old schoolgirl who was strip-searched by police officers in 2020 after school staff falsely accused her of having marijuana in her possession. Child Q was menstruating at the time. Teachers and officers didn’t contact her parents before she was searched, and no other adults were present. As Ashton speaks, it is evident just how much the abuse experienced by Child Q disturbed her. ‘‘I went to the protest with a placard bearing a slogan that the writer Bonnie Greer had given me. She was like: ‘Why are people trying to take tenderness from young Black children?’ And I thought that was such a poetic way of putting it. So instead of something very boldly antagonistic, which is where your mind goes when you write a placard for any type of protest, I wrote: ‘Stop killing young Black children’s dreams’. Then I scrubbed that out, and put: ‘Let Black children dream’.”

Ashton might be starring in period dramas and Marvel movies these days, but not long ago she was on the verge of giving up acting altogether; she was worried about being typecast after five years of starring in Fresh Meat. “There are strange things that happen when you leave episodic television, and I think this applies in the UK and the US. There’s a really weird chunk of time where everyone wants you to do the same thing again.” She points to the example of Friends. “Look at the stalling Joey spin-off. Look at the subsequent difficult realigning of identities that someone like Matthew Perry, who played Chandler, went through.”

She briefly moved to the Kent seaside town of Margate in 2018 to clear her head; it helped her return to the industry refreshed. After years of navigating entertainment, she had been on the verge of burning out. “I think it’s because I started young, before any pendulum swing in the industry. I’ve seen it all at this point. The stories I could tell – I mean, that’s the reason I wrote Character Breakdown,” she says, referring to the book she published in 2019, which explores the horrors of the TV and film industry through a mix of fiction and memoir. It’s both shocking and humorous, and includes imagined scenes that reflect the power plays between film-makers, actors and agents. After her brief hiatus from the industry, the role to reel her back into the world of entertainment was, fittingly, that of a gallerist in 2019’s Velvet Buzzsaw, a horror-thriller situated in the world of fine art that asks the question: who is in control – the artist or the industry?

Reflecting on the Ashton of now versus the Ashton who rose to fame in Fresh Meat (the show turned 10 last year), she is more focused on the parts of herself that stayed the same rather than the elements that have changed. “I’m still someone who wants to create interesting characters,” she says. “I’m also someone who loves being part of a loving ensemble – that’s where I always feel most alive. I still love Manchester. I’m not that person any more, but I don’t really know in which ways I’m not – that’s so weird, isn’t it?”

It has been intriguing for Ashton to witness the ways people have seen themselves reflected in the character of Vod. “A student said to me: ‘You are the first person of colour I saw representing any sort of flavour of non-binary or punk or queerness on television.’” She recognises the huge responsibility that comes with that status.

Part of the reason Vod has chimed with so many young people who find themselves occupying a space outside the norm is Ashton’s unwavering determination to create complicated characters over likable ones. “The show’s brilliant creators Sam Bain and Jesse Armstrong wanted me to play it like Vod’s really cool. I said, early on: ‘I won’t be able to create someone cool for you, but I will be able to create someone who doesn’t give a fuck.’”

There is a widespread sense that, because there has been so little representation of marginalised perspectives within the film and TV industry, each character who does make it on to the screen must represent every minority experience, which, of course, it cannot. It’s something that has long frustrated Ashton. “Reading Toni Morrison taught me from a very early age that the personal is universal. Anyone who tries to tell you it’s not has to think about that. That’s also just the way art works. You know, it doesn’t need to be liked all the time. This is what I can’t bear! I don’t care.”

Someone who instilled this mantra within Ashton is the groundbreaking Black artist Lorraine O’Grady. During a series of documentaries she recorded with the artist ahead of the Tate exhibition Soul of a Nation: Art in the Age of Black Power in 2017, Ashton learned that O’Grady had been shunned by some of the Black artist networks in New York because her work extended beyond the concerns of Black struggle. Yet, at 87, O’Grady continues to create the art she wants to see. “Is she someone who goes to bed at night feeling a bit sad that she was outcast by certain communities? Yes. Has she let it take her away from her gut and her heart, and her own experience? No, she has not.”

Having taken inspiration from O’Grady, how have Ashton’s own personal struggles affected her professional life? “They say the same things you struggle with as a person are the same things you struggle with as an actor,” she says. “There was a point when I couldn’t cry on cue. I was like, ‘God I’m just a crap actor, everyone else seems to be able to act loads of stuff, and it’s just me.’ And, actually, it was me. I had a lot of unprocessed sadness and trauma that wasn’t ready to come out in my own life, let alone when someone snapped their fingers and said to cry on behalf of someone else.”

What eventually allowed Ashton to process her own trauma was her writing. In 2019, she wrote a play called For All the Women Who Thought They Were Mad, exploring how workplace dynamics affect Black women. “There is an instant feeling of writing from places that need releasing, writing about something that was traumatising me. So I’m changing the world and changing myself at the same time, and that’s still how I write now.”

And when Ashton isn’t making sense of the world’s traumas, past, present and future, what does she do for fun? She really has to think about this one, not because there isn’t joy in her life – it’s full of it – but because her life’s enjoyments are in many ways tied up in her work. “I feel attacked,” she says through a giggle, as I list some possible activities that she could do for fun outside of the classic film club she joined during lockdown, or the books she reads (she hosted last year’s Women’s prize for fiction podcast).

“I want to get back to the sea,” she says. “It changed my whole headspace. And I should take up gardening.” A day later, she sends me a follow-up email, concerned I might think she’s forgotten how to have fun. “I gave the most post-Covid answer to my free-time question. Forgetting that I love art galleries, live music, yoga and pilates, acupuncture and painting. Sometimes I’m still operating from a place of captivity!”

It’s time for Ashton to go. Hobbies or not, she has plenty on the horizon: she is a woman on the verge of everything from Marvel to motherhood. But, amid the upheaval, she appears to have found a new equilibrium. “I think over the past five years I’ve realised that the only way to do anything in this industry is to be anchored in myself,” she says. “As long as I have that, everything else will fall into place.”

Mr Malcolm’s List is released in the UK on 26 August and is out now in the US.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Garden of Secrets [25] - Sweet Pea

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤

Thanks so much to @theskytraveler​ for helping me with the chapter!

Summary: Small gestures can be romantic.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of violence, slow burn.

Word Count: 3400

Series Masterlist

Surprisingly, there were no nightmares for the rest of the night. In fact, your sleep was uninterrupted until you woke up to the sound of the birds chirping, the warm sunlight spilling through the curtains. You heaved a sigh as you sat up in the bed, then stretched out, the knock on the door making you turn your head.

“Yes?”

The door opened and Paula stepped inside, then walked across the room to open the curtains.

“Good morning ma’am,” she said. “Did you sleep well?”

“Better than usual,” you said. “Is it breakfast time?”

“It is,” she said. “Mr. Bridgerton is already awake.”

You tilted your head. “Is he?”

“Yes, he was in the breakfast room when I saw him,” she said, pulling a gown out of your wardrobe. “This one for the day?”

You thought for a moment, then smiled.

“Yes thank you.”

It took you around half an hour to get ready, and you made your way down the hall to get to the breakfast room. As Paula had told you, Benedict was already there pacing in the room and he turned as soon as he saw you.

“Y/N.”

“Good morning,” you said, taking your seat and he stepped closer.

“Are you alright?”

“Why would I not be alright?” you asked, then looked up at the footman filling your teacup. “Thank you.”

“Ma’am.”

“Did you eat?”  you asked Benedict and he shook his head.

“No— that’s not important,” he said and stole a look at the footmen. “Can we have the room?”

They walked out of the room immediately, and you grabbed a piece of toast while he took the seat near yours.

“Tell me what you need,” he said and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I mean I was going to say olive bread but I have it right here.”

“Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes and shot him a light hearted glare. “Benedict.”

“Does your wrist hurt?”

“I didn’t tell you all that just so that you could look at me with worry in your eyes as if I’m going to break down any moment,” you deadpanned, ripping the edge of the toast to pop it in your mouth. “And as I’ve said last night, I’m fine. Josie had it worse than I did—”

“It’s not a competition.”

You paused for a moment, then shrugged your shoulders.

“Either way,” you said. “If you’re going to be like this at tonight’s dinner, I’ll skip it entirely and you’ll have to watch Anthony and Lottie be in love all by yourself.”

“Y/N.”

“I’ll say I passed out, you can’t say it wouldn’t be belie—”

“Where is he now?” he cut you off impatiently, that fire burning in his blue eyes and you averted your gaze for a moment, then grabbed your cup to take a sip of your tea.

“Away.”

“But where?”

“I’m not telling you anything when you look like you’re going to find him to challenge him to a duel.”

“Duels are a matter of honor,” he said. “He has none. Trust me, I have other things in mind for him, had a couple of ideas last night.”

You tilted your head. “You didn’t sleep last night?”

“That’s not important,” he said. “Where is he?”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but you can’t kill my father.”

“Breaking every bone in his body doesn’t count as killing him,” he paused for a moment. “Although, the idea is tempting—”

“Benedict,” you said and he let out a bitter laugh.

“He deserves it.”

You heaved a sigh and turned to look at him better, reaching out to place your hand over his on the table.

“You know it better than everyone by now that I’m not the forgiving type,” you said. “But any contact with him is way more than what he deserves.”

He gritted his teeth, still deep in thought. “He needs to pay for what he did.”

“He needs to be forgotten actually,” you pointed out. “I’m not going to spare that prick any thought, neither should you.”

Your name left his lips in an exasperated sigh.

“You’re my wife,” he reminded you, making your heart skip a beat. “I love you, I can’t just let that—”

“Benedict, I’ve quite gotten used to you being around,” you cut him off, your cheeks burning. “So stop trying to find a way to not be around, like murder or maiming.”

“But—”

“He is miserable, and he’s going to stay and die miserable in that hellhole,” you insisted. “I promise you, he’s not even worth your anger, he’s nothing.”  

He turned his hand under yours and lifted it to press a chaste kiss on your hand, his thumb caressing your wrist as he pulled back. For a moment you felt as if he could hear your heartbeat because of how fast it was, and a smile warmed your lips, that familiar fluttering appearing in your stomach once more.

“So,” you said. “Onto more pressing matters. Tonight’s dinner?”

He thought for a moment, then made a face.

“I just…” he trailed off, running a hand over his eyes. “Can we skip that?”

“Can we skip the dinner your mother is throwing to celebrate your best friend and your brother’s courtship?” you asked. “No. No we cannot.”

“You had a good idea there, if we said you passed out—”

“I was going to do that for my own benefit, not yours,” you said. “So no.”

“We’re married!”

“So?”

“So you’re supposed to be on my side,” he insisted and you clicked your tongue.

“Debatable,” you pointed out, trying to keep a straight face. “There are a bunch of married couples who stab each other in the back.”

“Like you, Brutus?”

“Kind of but look on the bright side,” you said. “At least I’m doing it to your face.”

“Oh much appreciated,” he said with a grin and you let a smile warm your face, then shrugged your shoulders.

“Of course,” you said as you took your tea cup to your lips. “I’m nothing if not considerate.”

                                            *

Charlotte’s family was quite crowded and you knew it but all of them and the Bridgertons together in a room equaled absolute chaos. Lord and Lady Harlowe were very sweet, and you’d had the chance to have a small conversation with them before making your way to sit beside Eloise on the sofa.

“Well you look glum.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m delighted,” she said with a scowl on her face and you tilted your head, then stole a look at Charlotte who was talking to Daphne and Anthony. Colin and Benedict were already in a conversation by the corner of the room while the children ran around, Lady Bridgerton telling them to be careful. You reached out to touch her arm, then nodded at the door.

“Come on.”

“What?”

“Come on,” you said. “There’s still some time for dinner and you look like you’re in a need of some peace and quiet. Let’s go outside, they can call us in when the dinner is ready.”

“You don’t want to spend your time giving loving glances to your beloved, just like the rest of the people in this room?”

“My beloved is still not totally alright with the idea of Anthony and Charlotte, so I think I’ll leave him be,” you said and stood up. “He can handle himself. Let’s go.”

She huffed out but followed you out of the room and you both made your way downstairs, then stepped out of the house to go sit on the swings in the backyard. She looked behind her to make sure no one was watching you two, then turned to you.

“Will you tell my mother if I smoke?”

“Do I look like a person who tells people things?”

She scoffed a laugh, then took out a cigarette package to offer it to you, but you shook your head.

“No thank you.”

She put one between her lips, then lit it and exhaled the smoke.

“Don’t get me wrong,” she said. “I’m happy for Lottie and Anthony. I’ve spent my whole life thinking she would be a part of our family, just…”

“Through a different brother?” you asked and she let out a small laugh.

“Does it bother you?”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “Not at all.”

“As it shouldn’t. I mean we didn’t know Anthony and Lottie were in love obviously, and her and Benedict were close friends so we assumed…”

“You and the rest of the ton,” you said. “And me for a while.”

“You thought they were courting?”

“Both Lottie and Benedict said they weren’t, on different occasions,” you said. “I would have taken myself out of that picture immediately if they were, trust me.”

She nodded slowly.

“So it’s not a matter of her being a part of your family,” you said. “What is it then?”

She thought for a moment, then shook her head.

“I was supposed to have more time,” she said through her teeth, making you frown. “This whole season—first Benedict got married, now Daphne is getting married, Anthony will certainly marry Lottie within the season and…I’m next.”

“Not Colin?”

“Have you seen him around Marina?” she asked. “And it doesn’t matter. If it’s not her it’ll be someone else. I was supposed to have years and years and now it’s…it’s at my door.”

Oh that feeling was quite familiar.

You pressed your lips together, curling your fingers around the rope of the swing.

“And before you tell me what a bliss love and marriage are—”

“I’m not going to say that,” you said. “Or any of that nonsense.”

She turned to look at you better, a look of disbelief flashing over her face.

“I’m just going to ask you something,” you said. “And do correct me if I’m wrong because I’ve only been here for a little time but…your family doesn’t strike me as people to push you into a marriage you don’t want, am I wrong?”

She shook her head again.

“They wouldn’t do that,” she said. “But it doesn’t matter. They all want me to fall in love and get married.”

“I think they want you to be happy,” you said. “They just think falling in love and getting married is the only way of doing so, but considering your family and status, you do have the luxury of choosing your own path to happiness if you wish.”

She blinked a couple of times.

“And you are not going to wax poetic about how marriage is the best thing in the world?”

You scoffed a laugh. “That would be quite hypocritical of me, considering I spent my whole life hating the idea of marriage.”

She stared at you. “Really?”

“Oh yeah,” you said. “It was merely a threat for me, Damocles’ sword hanging over my head. The idea never held much of a promise.”

“It’s a nightmare for me.”

“I don’t blame you,” you pointed out. “But it’s a nightmare you won’t have to go through if you don’t wish to. Your family loves you too much to put you through anything you don’t want.”

“And when I debut next year?”

“I’ll teach you how to intimidate your suitors with a glare,” you said, making her let out a giggle. “I’m quite good at it.”

“Mm hm, I heard. The Ice Queen.”

“I’ll hand over the crown to you,” you joked and she licked her lips.

“So you changed your mind but you’re not going to give me that speech about…”

“How you’ll also change your mind once you are in love and all that nonsense?” you finished her question for her. “Think of love like catching cold, alright? Yes it could happen to anyone, but you could take some precautions to make sure it doesn’t happen to you.”

She stared at you before a laughter escaped from her lips. “You have the heart of a poet.”

“That’s so rude of you,” you deadpanned, then shot her a grin. “I understand why you’re worried, but I can assure you, nothing you don’t want will ever happen to you. Not with the family you have.”

She offered you a small smile and took a drag of her cigarette again before throwing the cigarette butt on the ground to step on it.

“And you and Benedict?” she asked. “How come you fell in love if you took precautions?”

You bit down on your lip, deep in thought.

“We just…” you trailed off and took a deep breath. “He took me by surprise.”

She shot you a look. “Easy as that?”

You nodded your head, running your nail over the rope of the swing.

“Yeah,” you muttered. “Contrary to what people seem to believe, it doesn’t have to be complicated all the time.”

“Ladies,” you heard a familiar voice that sent a warmth through your chest, and looked over your shoulder to see Benedict.

“Brother,” Eloise said. “Mama sent you?”

“I volunteered,” he said. “I figured you wouldn’t want her to see you smoke. Dinner is ready.”

Eloise heaved a sigh and stood up from the swing.

“Let’s celebrate people being in love,” she grumbled in a dramatic manner and made her way to the house with you following her. Benedict squeezed her shoulder in an assuring manner as she walked past him, and you winked at him.

“Are you going to be okay, tortured artist?”

“Ask me again at the end of tonight,” he muttered and you let out a laugh, then stepped back into the house.

                                            *

The dinner was developing quite similarly to what your and Benedict’s engagement dinner was like. Everyone was happy, Anthony and Charlotte looked like they were barely aware of anyone else in the room, Lady Bridgerton, Lady Harlowe and Lord Harlowe in a deep conversation before Lord Harlowe turned to the couple.

“I did have a feeling,” he said, motioning at them and Charlotte’s jaw dropped.

“Did you papa?”

“Mm hm. For both of you.”

“Wait, me too?” Anthony asked and Lady Harlowe chuckled.

“You weren’t exactly subtle, Anthony.”

Anthony grinned and reached out to hold Charlotte’s hand over the table, making Benedict shake his head slightly.

“He was I think!” Lottie said. “I didn’t know about his feelings, and I thought he wouldn’t share mine.”

“How could I not, my love?” Anthony said and Benedict pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I will stab myself with this fork I swear to God…”

“Benny!”

“Stop it Benedict,” Daphne said. “I for one am glad Anthony has found love. It’s the most precious thing in the world after all.”

“You know,” you said. “Living with Benedict, I thought I developed an immunity for how strange people in love sound most of the time, but apparently not.”

Colin shot you a confused look. “You’re in love with Benedict.”

“Never remind me that ever again,” you deadpanned, making Benedict pat your arm as if trying to console you.

“Benny, you must be happy for me,” Lottie said. “The love of my life loves me back—”

“Charlie, I’m begging you not to call my brother that.”

“Benedict, I had to put up with those endless goddamn speeches of yours when you fell in love with your wife, did you forget about that? You once talked about how beautiful she is for over thirty minutes, and I know that because Colin was timing it.”

You tried to repress your smile and Colin nodded.

“Thirty-five minutes, to be exact.”

“And also, what am I supposed to call the love of my life, Benny?” Lottie asked and Benedict shrugged his shoulders.

“Acquaintance?”

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered. “See Benedict, this is exactly why people thought you two were in a courtship and no one except Lord and Lady Harlowe knew they were in love.”

“We weren’t—”

“Oh Y/N, please don’t think—”

“No no,” you waved your hands as a chorus of disagreement rose from the table. “Don’t worry about it, I know. Trust me, this—” you motioned at Benedict. “Would have been so much easier to understand if there was a courtship, just saying.”

“But there wasn’t, because I have been completely in love with Tony for years,” Lottie chirped and Anthony smiled at her fondly before leaning in to mutter something into her ear, making her giggle.

“Are you excited for your wedding, Daphne?” Lady Harlowe asked and she nodded.

“I am, Lady Harlowe,” she said. “And you are coming to the breakfast surely?”

“Oh we are, we wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“I might,” Eloise muttered and Lady Bridgerton gasped.

“Eloise!”

“What? It’s a possibility mama, who knows what might happen that day?”

“We will remind you of this when it’s your wedding breakfast dear,” Lady Harlowe said and you grinned at Eloise.

“I think Eloise will follow my lead when it comes to suitors once she debuts,” you said and Benedict tilted his head.

“Scaring the soul out of all of them?”

You nodded and Lord Harlowe chuckled before pointing between you two.

“All but one, apparently.”

You stole a look at Benedict, mirroring his smile and raised your glass slightly.

“Yeah,” you said. “All but one.”

                                                  *

The rest of the dinner went perfectly well and when you and Benedict returned home, the weather was still quite lovely, the sound of crickets and the water fountain reaching your ears, the warm wind caressing your skin. Benedict hid his yawn behind his hand as you looked up at the marble stairs leading up to the front door of the house, then turned to him.

“Tired?”

“Just a little,” he muttered. “I didn’t sleep last night, so…”

You paused for a moment.

“Right,” you said. “Of course. You must get some rest.”

“And you?”

“I think I’ll enjoy the fresh air some more before going to sleep,” you said. “It’s such a nice night.”

“Do you want some company?”

“Perhaps another night because I must insist that you go to sleep,” you said with a laugh. “Really. You look like you’re about to pass out and in case you forgot, that’s my thing.”

He chuckled, nodding his head before yawning again.

“Alright,” he said. “Good night then.”

“Good night,” you said and watched him climb the stairs before taking a deep breath. “And Benedict?”

He turned around to look at you. “Yes?”

“You know they will be happy together right?” you asked. “Anthony and Lottie?”

He smiled softly.

“Oh I know,” he said. “They’re so in love, I can’t believe I didn’t see that before.”

“I can’t believe that either,” you pointed out. “But you might want to tell Lottie you’re happy for them.”

Benedict grinned and nodded his head again.

“I did,” he said. “Right before we left. She knows.”

“Good.”

“I might take my time to tell Anthony though.”

“I’m behind that decision one hundred percent,” you said and he let out a laugh.

“I knew you would,” he said. “Sweet dreams.”

“You too,” you said and he walked into the house, leaving you in the garden. You heaved a sigh, then started making your way through the garden, enjoying the beautiful sight.

After passing by the roses, you leaned in to inhale the pleasant scent of sweet pea flowers, closing your eyes for a moment before opening them again. You ran your palm over them, looking down to see them better but as soon as you did, a four-leaf clover on the flower bed sticking out of the soil caught your eye, making you let out a chuckle.

“Well hello there,” you muttered as you reached down to rip it, then went back into the house.

You climbed up the stairs, but as soon as you reached the door to your room you paused, stealing a look at Benedict’s closed door. You nibbled on your lip, then threw your shoulders back and passed through the hallway to get to the door of his studio. It was dark aside from the moonlight spilling through the window and you stepped inside, careful not to bump into anything before approaching the small table which had his palette and a couple of his paints. You took a deep breath, then put the four-leaf clover on the table, stepping back to see it better, then frowned and stepped forward to put it on the palette, nodding to yourself once you were convinced it looked good.

A smile warmed your face and you bit on your nail, and left the studio to rush to your bedroom as if he could see you. You pressed a hand over your chest as you entered your room, then discarded your clothes as quickly as you could before you flung yourself on the bed to pull the pillow to your chest, a giddy giggle escaping from your lips.

Chapter 26

[fantasyescapes17]

Closed Doors (Part 2)

Soonyoung had made peace with his station in life. A younger son of a little-known family, he was not set to inherit a fortune and had nothing to recommend him but his bright personality. Nobody expected Soonyoung to make the match of the season. But when you- a woman with ties to the royal family and riches beyond his imagination, a Duchess in your own right- seeks Soonyoung's hand in marriage, his life begins to spiral entirely out of his control.

Genre: Hoshi x female!reader. Regency!AU. Your title is the Duchess of Graham but your first name is not mentioned.

Warnings: Wedding night so mentions of sex but nothing explicit is described, it fades to black. Not even remotely historically accurate. Much like Bridgerton, this is all about the aesthetic.

Word Count: 7.5k+

Part 1 Part 3

Series Masterlist [This is not the first installment in this series- it is strongly recommended to visit the Masterlist and read the installments in order as they are all interlinked and the timeline can be confusing.]

"I've known the Duchess for most of my life," Viscount Hong explained as the carriage rattled along the cobblestone streets. "Our late fathers were close friends. My sister and I spent a few summers at the Graham's duchy in our childhood; although my sister was probably too young to remember much of that."

Soonyoung tried to focus on the Viscount's words, but it was difficult to hear them over the sound of his own pounding heartbeat. The two gentlemen were on their way to your manor now. Soonyoung had asked to speak with you himself, though as the manor looked closer, he was beginning to regret his decision. 

What was he going to say to you? What did one even say to a Duchess who had proposed marriage after a single conversation? Thank you? 

Soonyoung cleared his throat and tried to focus on the conversation. He needed to understand as much as he could from the Viscount before he faced you. 

"Did you never think of marrying her yourself?" Soonyoung asked. 

Viscount Hong looked surprised. "Oh- erm… not with any real seriousness. I will admit our late fathers may have preferred it. The Duchess is a good person, but I am not sure we were ever compatible in that way."

"So you were not compatible with her," Soonyoung replied in mild disbelief as he looked at the handsome, rich and otherwise impeccable Viscount in front of him, "but somehow you think I am compatible with the Duchess? Me? The second son of the Kwon family who doesn't have a single useful talent or penny to his name, me?"

The Viscount Hong sighed. 

"Soonyoung, think about this rationally. The Duchess is a young woman who has no surviving family and has been burdened with a title, fortune, and dukedom that nobody in the ton thinks she should have. She did not even have a chance to properly mourn her father; the moment he died, there were petitions submitted to the Queen by noblemen protesting her title and seeking to take her lands from her. She is fighting a battle against some of the most powerful men in the country, all alone. What do you think she wants in a husband?"

Soonyoung stared at the Viscount blankly. 

"I haven't the slightest idea," he admitted. 

The Viscount pressed his fingers to his temples. "She wants someone she can trust, Soonyoung. She came to me for help. I will not lie to you. I did introduce her to other eligible gentlemen. For some reason, she turned them all down. The Duchess only expressed an interest in you."

Soonyoung felt nauseous. "But we only talked about cakes."

"What?"

"At the ball. During our dance. I was nervous and she asked me why her ball exceeded the usual London ones, so I told her she had a better selection of cakes. That is all we talked about during the dance, Viscount Hong. Cakes," Soonyoung admitted worriedly. "I just can't understand why she would…"

The Viscount smiled. 

"You had better ask her yourself, then. We have arrived."

—----------------------------------------------

The Duchess' manor was as intimidating and magnificent as Soonyoung remembered it. He still felt unworthy to walk these grand halls. He followed Viscount Hong anxiously as a servant led the two gentlemen towards one of the many drawing rooms that Soonyoung had never set foot in before. 

"Viscount Hong and Mr. Kwon are here, Your Grace," the servant announced their arrival. 

You were seated near the window, but rose gracefully to greet the gentlemen. Soonyoung was struck once again by your beauty. In the absence of the sparkling lights of the ball and the heavy jewellery, even in the simple pale morning sunlight, you were still the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on. 

"Thank you for coming," you said to them both in your soft, lilting voice. Your smile- the beautiful one that Soonyoung noticed still did not quite reach your sad eyes- made him almost forget to greet you with the proper decorum. 

"Your Grace," he choked out quickly, bowing his head. 

The Viscount glanced between the two of you with an amused smile. "Well, far be it from me to intrude upon your conversation any longer than necessary. I have brought a book that I am quite keen to read. I will employ myself accordingly. I only ask that if your conversation takes too long, I might be served some tea."

"I have sent for some tea already," you promised the Viscount, who retreated to the far corner of the room. He made a show of seating himself as far away as possible, facing in the opposite direction from you both and burying his head in his book. 

You turned to Soonyoung. 

"Mr. Kwon; please, have a seat."

Soonyoung walked with shaky legs towards the small table near the window. There were two ornate chairs on either side-  he sat across from you and took a deep breath. His hands felt clammy. 

"Thank you for coming," you repeated to him softly. Your hands were folded politely on your lap. "I must apologise for not approaching you directly on this matter, Mr. Kwon. Considering how brief our acquaintance has been, I thought that if you were not inclined to matrimony or wished to reject my proposition,  you may  have been more comfortable expressing your response to Viscount Hong. I am very glad you asked to meet me.”

Soonyoung stared up at you with wide eyes. 

“That is… very considerate of you, Your Grace,” he said politely. The mere thought of hearing your proposal directly from you instead of from Viscount Hong made his palms sweat. Soonyong was certain that his current position was far preferable. 

You smiled at him gently. “You must be… surprised.” 

“I will not pretend that I anticipated any of this.” 

“Allow me to explain,” you began carefully. “I am sure the Viscount has given you an indication of my situation. I lost my father- the late Duke, a few months ago and have inherited his title. I have no surviving family and the reception from the ton and other titled noblemen to inheritance of the lands and title has not been… entirely positive,” you explained. Soonyoung watched you, captivated. You spoke calmly, and a faint strain in your voice towards the end of your sentence was the only indication of any loss of composure. 

Soonyoung cleared his throat. “I-I am sorry to hear that.” 

“Thank you,” you replied simply. “While I am relieved that my family’s legacy is not lost, I must admit that the role of a Duchess is not one which was designed to be played by a lady alone, particularly not an unmarried one. In addition to the friction from the other noblemen, my position makes it difficult for me to do justice to my duchy. It is also important that I secure the future lineage of my family so that my father’s efforts are not in vain. I am explaining these things to you, Mr. Kwon, so that you are better able to understand my reasons for needing to marry soon.” 

Soonyoung nodded. “Yes-yes, of course, Your Grace, I understand.” 

A servant entered the room with some tea and biscuits. You paused and waited for her to pour you each a cup, and directed the servant to send one over to Viscount Hong in the corner of the room. Then you turned back to Soonyoung and watched him put two sugars in his cup. 

“I see you have a sweet tooth,” you remarked with a small smile. 

Soonyoung’s ears turned pink and he froze halfway through stirring his tea. “I-I, erm. Yes, yes, I am partial to a little more sugar than most,” he admitted self-consciously. “I apologise. I should perhaps try not to consume so much of it…” 

Your expression was gentle as you looked up at him. “I do not think a habit of excessively sweetening one’s tea is the worst vice a gentleman can have, Mr. Kwon. Viscount Hong speaks very highly of you.” 

Soonyoung’s ears reddened further and he coughed. “I-I did not realise you spoke to Viscount Hong about me, Your Grace.” 

Your eyes dropped down to your tea and Soonyoung saw a flash of that familiar sadness in them for a moment before you spoke. “I have been finding it… difficult to trust people of late. Some of my father’s closest allies signed a petition to have my title revoked. Others have made underhanded attempts to orchestrate a match with their sons and usurp my duchy. Viscount Hong is the only nobleman I can still trust. That is why I sought his aid to find a suitable husband. I considered his judgement to be more impartial and reliable than anyone else I knew.” 

Soonyoung nodded in understanding. It was becoming increasingly clear to him now- this was a very delicate situation that extended beyond frivolous gossip and societal opinions. This was about politics and land and power. The Viscount had been doing you a favour by being vague  at the ball a few nights ago. It would not be appropriate for the entire ton to know that the Duchess of Graham had turned down most of the offers made to her by noblemen and was seeking a husband elsewhere. 

Soonyoung bit your lip. “I am sorry that you are in this position, Your Grace,” he said carefully. “But I must commend you for placing your faith in Viscount Hong. I doubt I could name anyone with more integrity or honesty than the Viscount.” 

You bit back a smile. “I am glad you think so. Because the Viscount led me to you.” 

Soonyoung cleared his throat. “Yes. Yes, he led me to you. I…” 

You set your tea down and took a deep breath before lifting your eyes to meet Soonyoung. He was stunned into silence by the power of their gaze. There was a deep, deep sadness in your eyes but he also saw strength and gentleness. 

“I apologise for putting you in this situation,” you told him honestly. There was a hint of regret in your soft words. “This is hardly the most romantic way in which to propose marriage and I am sure it cannot be flattering to you to be put in this position. I assure you, Mr. Kwon, I will not blame you if you cannot find it in yourself to enter into this… marriage of convenience.” 

There was a long silence. 

It only occurred to Soonyoung much later that there were other things he should have carefully considered about the match- the possibility of gaining a fortune, a title, and lands, of going from a penniless second son to a Duke in one move. There were so many reasons to accept your proposal. None of the other gentlemen of the ton (least of all Mr, Kim and Mr. Lee) would believe Soonyoung when he said that none of those things had been on his mind at that moment. 

Instead, he had only one thought on his mind. 

You needed help. And while Soonyoung could not pretend that he fully understood you (there was still so much hidden behind that beautiful smile and deep eyes of yours), there was one thing that he was fairly confident about. 

He wanted to be the one to help you. 

“It would be an honour, Your Grace,” Soonyoung said slowly and carefully, “to be your husband.” 

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

Soonyoung felt like he was in a dream as he exited your manor that afternoon with Viscount Hong. His mind and body seemed to be  floating in the clouds, and it was difficult to concentrate on what the Viscount was saying to him. 

“... cannot tell anybody about the engagement, yet, you understand, not until the Queen has granted her approval for the marriage. Perhaps in two days the announcement can be made in the papers. I assume the Duchess will handle making an appointment with the Queen, but-” 

Soonyoung was suddenly and violently jerked out of his reverie. 

“Sorry- did you just say the Queen?” he demanded. 

Viscount Hong gestured for the carriage driver to begin and then turned back to his companion. “Yes, the Queen. The Duchess is one of the Queen’s ladies-in-waiting. She is part of her court. Naturally you will both need to approach the Queen for her blessing before you can announce the engagement publicly. You risk offending Her Majesty if you do not approach her before a public announcement.” 

Soonyoung swallowed. He suddenly felt faint. “Yes, but surely the Duchess will handle that…” 

“The Queen will naturally want to see you in order to grant you her blessing to the couple.” 

“O-oh.” 

Viscount Hong bit his lip as he looked at the startled young man sitting across from him in the carriage. He took a deep breath and sighed. “Soonyoung.” 

“Yes?” 

“Have you fully thought about this? Really thought about it? Being a Duke is not easy and there is an incredible amount of responsibility involved. The Duchess is entangled in the middle of a political tussle and I am sorry to say that she is on the weaker side. She needs someone who can be strong and support her through this ordeal. I know you are capable of doing so, I would not have recommended you otherwise. But I need you to step up to the task. The Duchess needs you to step up to the task.” 

Soonyoung looked up at the Viscount sharply. There was a newfound determination in his eyes. 

“I will do whatever is necessary,” he said firmly. 

The Viscount relaxed. “Good. I will let you know once an appointment has been made to meet the Queen.” 

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mr. Lee Seokmin was quite drunk. 

“I cannot go to the navy alone!” he cried, his glass of whisky sloshing all over the expensive carpet. Fortunately for Seokmin, Mingyu was far too entertained by the scene before him to be concerned by the damage Seokmin was doing to his drawing room rug. “We were supposed to go together! We were going to capture pirates together, Soonyoung!” 

Mr. Lee Jihoon raised an eyebrow at his younger brother. “It is quite unlikely that you would both have been stationed on the same ship.” 

Seokmin paused. “We could have met at the naval base.” 

“Yes, because the royal naval base is simply full of pirates ripe for your picking.” 

Soonyoung was currently on his fourth glass of whisky and Kim Mingyu’s drawing room was beginning to appear hazy to his intoxicated gaze. The gentleman’s club was the preferred haunt for the group of bachelors gathered, but it was too public for the present celebration. Since the announcement would not be made in the papers for a few days, it was important to keep the news of Soonyoung’s engagement under wraps. They had gathered in Mingyu’s drawing room instead. 

Jihoon, the most sober gentleman in the room by far, leaned closer to Soonyoung. 

“Seokmin is merely inebriated,” Jihoon told him gently, misreading the worried expression on his friend’s face. “I hope you do not blame yourself for destroying his dreams of capturing pirates- my sister and I would never have consented to him joining the Navy in any case.” 

Soonyoung blinked. “Oh.” 

“Congratulations on your engagement, Soonyoung.” 

“Thank you.” 

Someone passed Soonyoung a cigar and he lifted it to his lips, taking a deep drag before leaning his head back against the armchair. He did not smoke often- he did not even drink often but the consequences and ramifications of the decision he had made earlier today were rapidly descending upon him. In order to distract himself from the sinking thought that he had perhaps made a rash decision that would impact the rest of his life and your life, he allowed Jihoon to refill his glass. 

“I would like to raise a toast,” Mingyu announced loudly, rising to his feet and lifting his glass. “To Kwon Soonyoung, the man who refused to chase the dowry so the dowry came chasing him!” 

Everyone chuckled. Soonyoung clumsily tossed back the whisky. He was beginning to feel nauseous. 

“For heaven's sake, that painting is an eyesore,” Jihoon complained loudly as he gestured to one of the obnoxiously large paintings of a tastefully nude woman that Mingyu had displayed above the fireplace. “Is there nowhere else to hang that? What do you do when there are ladies present?” 

Mingyu chuckled. “Do not fret, Mr. Lee, I will be shifting that painting to my art gallery once it is opened. As for the ladies, I entertain them in the breakfast parlour. It has paintings of kittens.” 

Jihoon was still unimpressed. “I pity the women you court.” 

“May I remind you that you are the one who cannot seem to stop staring at the painting?”

“You little-”

“I need some fresh air,” Soonyoung announced. He was barely audible over the sound of Mingyu and Jihoon debating the inappropriateness of nude paintings in a drawing room. Setting his glass down and finding his unsteady legs, Soonyoung walked towards one of the large balconies and stepped out into the night air. The cool summer breeze swept through his hair. He leaned against the railing for a few minutes- eyes closed, and thinking about the whirlwind of events that had led to him being engaged to a Duchess in a few days. 

“Soonyoung?” 

Seokmin had followed him onto the balcony. The younger Lee rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as he joined Soonyoung near the balcony railing. 

“Seokmin.” 

“Jihoon thought I might be upsetting you by going on about the Navy. You know that I don’t actually resent you for backing out? I was merely joking. You’re about to be married, I couldn’t be happier for you,” Seokmin said honestly. He had a smile on his face. “You’re about to become a Duke.” 

Soonyoung swallowed. “A Duke. Yes.”

“Why do you look worried?” 

“Because I am worried,” Soonyoung confessed. His knuckles were white as he clasped the railing of the balcony and the words spilled out of his mouth rapidly. “The Viscount is right. I don’t have the faintest idea what the responsibilities of a Duke are. Having a title like that and a duchy is no joke, it is about politics; something I have no knowledge of. It is not merely my own life on the line. Everything I say and do will impact the Duchess. She is… she is not merely asking to marry me, she is trusting me with her property and family legacy and reputation. I-I don’t know if I am capable of this.” 

Seokmin stared at his friend for a long moment. 

“Soonyoung. You underestimate yourself.” 

Soonyoung bit his lip, hard. “Do I?” 

“Do you know what any other young man in your position would do?” Seokmin asked knowingly. “He would celebrate that some woman had handed him a fortune and a title on a golden platter. The fact that you are seriously considering the responsibilities involved with the dukedom proves that the Duchess was not wrong to choose you.” 

“I don’t know why she chose me,” Soonyoung admitted with a sigh.  

“Did you not ask her?” 

“I should have asked, perhaps- it just… I did not get the opportunity and she called it a marriage of convenience, so clearly the answer cannot have been anything very flattering,” Soonyoung mumbled. He took a deep breath and looked up at the moonlight sky. “I wish I could celebrate with you, but all I can think of is how I am suddenly deeply terrified of disappointing the young lady that has misplaced her trust in me.” 

“Soonyoung,” Seokmin said firmly. He placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You are overthinking this.” 

“Do you really think so?” 

“You were prepared to go out into the open sea and fight pirates and enemy ships. I never once saw you show fear at the thought of joining the Navy. Why do you suddenly think you will not be able to handle the simple task of being a good husband?” 

Soonyoung sighed. “I trained to be a sailor. I attended the Royal Naval Academy for years. Nobody has ever prepared me to be a Duke, Seokmin.” 

“Then start preparing now. It is not too late.” 

Soonyoung took a deep breath. Yes, Seokmin was right, He did not need to blindly blunder into this situation. He could prepare. He would prepare and would  prove to you that you had not made a mistake by choosing him.

Kwon Soonyoung would learn to become a Duke. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Soonyoung fidgeted in his brand new coat as he waited for your carriage to arrive. The coat was not uncomfortable in the least. On the contrary, it was perfectly tailored to fit Soonyoung, as opposed to the hastily mended hand-me-downs from his brother that he often wore. The Viscountess Hong was an angel; upon hearing of Soonyoung's engagement, she had promptly sent for a tailor to customise a new suit for Soonyoung to wear to his meeting with the Queen. 

His meeting with the Queen. 

A phrase that Soonyoung had never imagined he would say with any seriousness, and yet here he was. Standing near the entrance of the royal palace and waiting for the Duchess of Graham to meet him for a private audience with the Queen.

Your carriage approached and Soonyoung took a deep breath as he hurried forward. The footman was mildly surprised when Soonyoung stepped up to the carriage door himself and offered you a hand to help you descend. 

You gave him one of your soft smiles and accepted his hand. 

“Thank you, Mr. Kwon,” you told him. Your deep eyes glanced at him in an almost approving manner. “Is that a new suit? You look very handsome.” 

Soonyoung could not prevent his ears from turning red at the compliment and he struggled with what to say in return. You looked radiant in a beautiful green dress that emphasised your glowing skin, and he opened his mouth to return the compliment… but nothing seemed sufficient to encapsulate how beautiful he thought you were. He waited too long; the moment passed. 

“The Queen was pleased to grant us an audience even at such short notice,” you informed Soonyoung in a hushed tone as you both entered the royal palace and followed a pair of servants to the audience chambers. Soonyoung tried to focus on your words and not on the gentle pressure of your hand resting near the crook of his elbow. “I am sure she will be perfectly pleased to grant us her permission to marry, but I must warn you- Her Majesty is under the impression that this is a love match.” 

Soonyoung cleared his throat nervously. “A love match?” 

You blinked  up at him apologetically. “I have already rejected offers from the sons of a few other Dukes that attempted to have my title revoked. The politics here are complicated; I found the easiest way to justify marrying someone outside of the commonly expected options, was to tell the Queen I was in love.” 

“I see,” Soonyoung swallowed. “In love-yes, yes, I suppose we may say that.” 

You seemed worried. “I apologise if this is sudden-” 

“Not at all, Your Grace,” Soonyoung told you firmly. He took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. This was his first test and he was not about to let himself be thrown by a small change in circumstances. He could handle this. He would not disappoint you. “It is not an issue at all. I will be sure to confirm the Queen’s understanding that this is a love match.” 

You seemed relieved. “Thank you, Mr. Kwon.” 

You both arrived at the audience chambers and waited in the hallway for a few moments until the Queen was ready to see you. Soonyoung’s heart was beating at an unnatural rate and he resisted the urge to fidget with his sleeves and cough. Your gloved hand resting lightly near his elbow somehow worked to keep him grounded. He focused on your gentle touch and kept his composure as the doors to the audience chamber opened and a guard came out. 

“Her Highness has granted you an audience. Please enter.” 

The Queen was seated at the head of the room. Soonyoung did not dare lift his head to look her in the eye. He did not even dare to look properly around the audience chamber for fear that the grandness and magnificence of the royal palace would cause him to lose composure. He simply allowed your gentle hand to guide him where he needed to go and followed you into a deep bow before the Queen. 

“Ah, the Duchess of Graham,” the Queen greeted you loftily. “I must say that I was pleasantly surprised when you requested an audience, The word among the ton is that you have rejected so many eligible suitors that I had quite despaired of your ever marrying. I am relieved to see that is not the case.” 

You responded quickly- your voice was soft and deferential. “Your Majesty. You have bestowed my family with the most precious gift of all by allowing my lineage to continue to hold the dukedom. We are forever indebted to you for your kindness and naturally, the decision of who should be the next Duke of Graham was not one that I could take lightly.” 

This seemed to please the Queen. 

“And you have finally made your choice? Mr. Kwon, I hear?” 

Soonyoung bowed his head. "Yes, your Majesty."

The Queen observed him slowly and critically. "You are a handsome young man; I can certainly see why the Duchess prefers you. But the question remains- can you be a Duke?"

Soonyoung swallowed. "I will do my best, your Majesty."

The Queen huffed. "I suppose that is all one can ask for, really- my dear Duchess, have you quite set your heart on this man?"

You bowed. "Yes, Your Majesty."

"Then far be it from me to stand in the way of your love. You have my blessing. You may marry- and Mr. Kwon may be granted the title of a Duke," the Queen said dismissively.

"Thank you, Your Majesty-"

"Yes, yes. Be on your way and prepare for your wedding. And my dear Duchess- now that you shall have a husband to handle the matters of your estate, I expect you to attend to the royal court far more often. You will need to join me and the other court ladies for tea at least once a fortnight."

"Of course, Your Majesty."

Your grasp on Soonyoung's arm relaxed noticeably and Soonyoung was relieved when you began to leave the room and he could follow you. The moment you both left the audience chambers, he released the breath he had been holding and looked up at you with a sheepish smile. 

"That was… not as difficult as I expected," he admitted with a grin. 

You smiled back at him softly. "Did you think it was going to be difficult? I did tell you that Her Majesty would be pleased to grant her permission."

Soonyoung flushed. "Yes, but- I mean… I have never met the Queen, so…"

"Of course. I can understand. I thought, perhaps we should discuss, before we part… when we might have the wedding?" you began. There was a sudden shyness in your gaze that Soonyoung was surprised to note. 

He blinked. "Whenever you see fit, Your Grace."

"Our engagement will be announced in the papers tomorrow," you told him as you both walked back to your carriage. "Since we have the Queen's permission to marry, I do not believe a lengthy betrothal is necessary. Unless you had any objection- perhaps next Monday?"

Soonyoung froze in his path. "For the wedding?"

You noticed his hesitancy. "Was there any reason you wished to wait longer?"

Soonyoung opened his mouth to speak. It was all happening so quickly. He almost wanted more time to prepare, to comprehend the life he was getting into. But he saw the anxiety in your eyes. You wanted to be married soon and he could understand- the pressures you were facing were not light. 

It was not the time for Soonyoung to be selfish. 

"No. No, next Monday is perfect, Your Grace," Soonyoung said quickly. Your carriage was waiting outside the palace and your footman rushed to open the door for you. 

"Then I will have the arrangements made," you told him gently. 

"E-excellent."

Soonyoung held out his hand to help you into the carriage but he was interrupted by your butler, who suddenly approached with an armful of books. "Mr. Kwon!" the butler greeted him politely. "I had these brought over from the Graham library, as per your request. Was this what you were looking for?"

You paused and frowned at the books. "What are these?"

Soonyoung's ears turned pink. He had expected the butler to give them to him privately- not in front of you. He took the books and smiled at you awkwardly. 

"I-I realised that I knew very little about the Graham duchy so I asked your butler if he could find some books that would teach me about your family lineage and the history of your lands," Soonyoung admitted shyly. He noticed the shock in your deep eyes which slowly melted into something much, much softer and affectionate as your eyes dropped to the heavy genealogy book at the top of the pile. 

"Mr. Kwon…" you said softly. "You really don't need to do that."

Soonyoung cleared his throat. "I would like to."

You stared at him for a long moment. Soonyoung felt almost exposed under your lingering gaze. He could not read what was behind your piercing eyes and he was about to apologise for overstepping when you finally spoke again, a small but noticeable crack in your voice. 

“Thank you,” you said quietly. “We will see each other soon, Mr. Kwon.” 

“Of course. Goodbye, Your Grace.” 

—---------------------------------------------------------

The week before the wedding went by in a flash. The announcement of the Duchess of Graham's engagement in the papers had predictably thrown the entire ton into an uproar. Kwon Soonyoung went from being an obscure, little-known gentleman to the name on everyone's lips in the span of a single morning. 

He was overwhelmed with invitations; to tea at the Baron's house, to dine with the Carter family and many more. It seemed that every single noble family suddenly wished to make Soonyoung's acquaintance and pretend that they had been very familiar with him all along. Soonyoung honestly thought that he may have gone mad if it had not been for Seokmin and Mingyu by his side. 

"This happened to my family as soon as my sister's engagement to the Viscount was published in the papers," Seokmin said as he rifled through the invitations. "The entire month was spent having dinner with different families."

Soonyoung's head was buried in a weighty tome about the genealogy of the Graham dukedom and he looked up with a sigh. "I barely have time with wedding preparations to attend half of these invitations. Not to mention the reading I hoped to do. What should I do?"

Mingyu, sitting in the corner of the room with a pipe in his mouth, chuckled. "Ignore them."

Soonyoung frowned. "What if some of them are from important families of the ton, they may take offence-"

Mingyu laughed as he took the stack of invitations from Seokmin's hands and smoothly tore them in half. "Important families? Oh my poor dear Soonyoung. I am not sure you understand what is happening to you. You are about to be a Duke. You are now the important family that everyone fears offending. You don’t need to worry about them!"

Soonyoung blinked. "Was it necessary to tear them?"

"I would tear that book in your hands as well, if I thought I could manage it. What are you doing, Mr. Kwon? These are your last few days as a bachelor- are you really going to spend them reading? Something you never even did in your short time at Oxford?"

Soonyoung bit his lip. "This book is rather dry."

"That's the spirit-"

"Do you have any books on agriculture I might borrow? The duchy consists largely of agricultural land and I was hoping to understand more about how the agrarian community pays its taxes."

Mingyu looked aghast. 

"None of that. Stop that immediately and come have a drink."

While it was difficult to get the notorious rake to discuss anything seriously, Soonyoung did manage to extract some advice from Mingyu on managing an estate once he was sufficiently drunk, and Seokmin was a welcome presence that served to keep Soonyoung's spirits high. 

The day of the wedding finally arrived. It was a smaller celebration than customary for a Duke's wedding and there were many members of the ton that openly lamented not receiving an invitation. Despite the short guest list, Soonyoung was still anxious as he stood up at the altar and stared at the sea of people watching from the pews. 

"I still don't understand how you seduced the Duchess," Soonyoung's elder brother grumbled from behind him as he adjusted his cuffs. It had taken no small effort to keep the elder Kwon sober and presentable for the wedding; Soonyoung would forever owe Jihoon a debt of gratitude for undertaking that unpleasant responsibility and executing it without complaint. 

But he did not have the opportunity to respond to his brother. You suddenly appeared at the end of the aisle and Soonyoung felt as though the entire room had fallen away and you were the only person standing before him. 

You looked exquisite, in a simple white dress and with a gentle smile on your face. Soonyoung watched, almost in a trance, as you walked gracefully down the aisle in a slow, practised gait. You looked divine and Soonyoung was suddenly reminded of how in over his head he felt, how he was marrying a woman so far, far above his station that this had to be some sort of a dream or joke, it could not possibly be real that you were about to become his wife. 

You reached the altar and looked up at him quietly through your eyelashes with a small smile. 

Soonyoung's heart pounded as you both turned to face the minister. The man read out some pre-written drivel about holy matrimony and Soonyoung tried to concentrate but all he could focus on was the sound of your soft breathing beside him and his own pounding heartbeat. He barely remembered saying his own vows.

"Mr. Kwon," you said softly. "The ring."

Your voice snapped Soonyoung out of his reverie. Somebody was presenting him with a ring and he swallowed nervously before reaching for it. It was a delicate little thing; Soonyoung fumbled with the ring for a moment, but to his relief it did not fall from his grasp. He reached for your hand- your soft, gentle hand- and placed the ring on your finger. 

It was done. 

You were married. 

The rest of the morning felt like a blur. Soonyoung received congratulations from dozens of people he had never met in his entire life. He found himself thrown from conversation to conversation like a child's ball until finally your hand on his elbow tightened and you whispered softly in his ear. 

"Our carriage is waiting outside," you said. "We can leave."

"Yes, let's."

It was a number of goodbyes before Soonyoung could finally reach the carriage and help you inside. Soonyoung climbed in as well and once the door was closed behind him, he took a deep breath and looked across the carriage at you. 

"I think that went rather well, Your Grace," he said to you lightly. 

You smiled back at him. "I thought having fewer guests would make the ceremony quicker but I am afraid we were still detained much longer than expected. Would you object if we went directly to the estate for the night? It is not very far- a few hours' ride."

Soonyoung nodded. "Of course."

—----------------------------------------------------------

You fell asleep during the carriage ride to the Graham estate. Soonyoung was torn between watching the magnificent views of the countryside and the sight of your head drowsily leaning against the carriage wall as you tried to fight sleep. Soonyoung couldn't help but smile at the sight of your eyelashes repeatedly fluttering closed and then fluttering back open in protest. 

It appeared even the Duchess of Graham got sleepy during carriage rides. 

It was late evening when you both arrived at the Graham estate and although Soonyoung was now much more prepared than before, he was still struck with awe at the sheer size and grandeur of the estate. There were vast gardens at the entrance and the manor itself loomed over the carriage. He could hear the sound of a creek nearby. 

"Welcome to the Graham manor, Your Grace," you told him. 

Soonyoung descended the carriage slowly, taking it all in. Was this to be his home? Was he really going to live here? Did all this really belong to him now? 

"I am afraid we don't have enough time for a tour of the estate this evening," you told him as the servants hurried to open the front doors for you. "I sent word ahead to have supper ready. Perhaps tomorrow, I can show you around the manor and the gardens?"

Soonyoung swallowed and nodded silently. 

"Shall we dine?"

"Y-yes."

The dining room was magnificent and there was a lavish spread for supper. Soonyoung decided that he was too far gone to exhibit any shame; he had not eaten all day due to the anxiety from the wedding, and was in no position to refuse the delicacies served at the table. Even the knowledge that you were watching him eat quietly with a small smile on your face did not deter him from filling his cheeks with food. 

"Mr. Jones, will you show the Duke upstairs?" you asked once supper had been cleared away. Soonyoung was surprised when one of the butlers quickly ushered him upstairs through various lengthy hallways and foyers to an enormous bedchamber before he could ask any further questions. 

A warm bath had been prepared for him in an adjoining bathroom and Soonyoung was surprised to see that all his belongings had already been brought and neatly unpacked in the bedchamber. He undressed and relaxed in the bath for a few moments before the fog from the excellent supper cleared from his mind and he remembered. 

This was his wedding night. 

You would have to consummate the marriage. 

Soonyoung jerked upright and the water sloshed out of the side of his bath. He finished the bath quickly and dressed in a fresh night-suit that had been placed on the bed for him. Then he paced the room and regretted not asking someone about this sooner. 

How did this work? Would you come to him? Did he go to you- but no, the manor was enormous and he did not have the slightest idea where you had gone after dinner. He could not wander the hallways searching for your. Should he ask a servant? The sheer mortification from the thought of doing so made Soonyoung shiver. 

Would you even want to consummate the marriage? You had said in your own words that this was a marriage of convenience and not a love match. But even marriages of convenience were consummated! You had mentioned carrying on the lineage and to have children it would be necessary to consummate, so surely it would be done? 

But perhaps you did not intend to do it tonight. You had fallen asleep in the carriage and you were probably tired from the journey. Perhaps the assumption was that you would consummate at a later time? 

There was a soft knock on the door to the bedchamber. 

"Come in!" Soonyoung called. 

You peeked your head around the door and Soonyoung jumped to his feet. "Your Grace!"he greeted you. 

"May I come in?"

"O-of course!"

You entered the bedchamber slowly; you were wearing a soft satin nightgown that revealed your silhouette and Soonyoung felt his blood rush to all the wrong places. Your cheeks were flushed and you were biting your soft lips nervously. 

Soonyoung took a deep breath. 

Well. It appeared that this would be happening tonight after all. 

"I thought- we never got a chance to taste our own wedding cake, so I had them bring a few slices back for us," you explained softly. Soonyoung  noticed that there was a covered tray in your hands. He rushed forward to take it from you, and placed it on the bedside table. 

"Our wedding cake?" Soonyoung repeated anxiously. 

You nodded and lifted the cover off the tray. There were two small slices of a pink strawberry cake covered in white frosting on the tray, as well as a bottle of wine and a pair of wine glasses. Soonyoung stared at the tray and then looked back at you. 

"Oh," he said. "Cake. I see."

"The wine was a gift from Viscountess Hong," you continued to explain. Your voice was growing quieter, and Soonyoung noticed that you looked rather flushed. "She thought it might.. help. I must admit that I already had a glass earlier. But perhaps we could share another one?"

That explained why you looked flushed and the way your deep eyes boldly darted up to his and then turned away shyly. Soonyoung took a deep breath to calm himself and sat on the bed.

"Wine and cake," Soonyoung said with a smile. "Two of my favourite things."

"I thought you would regret missing the wedding cake. It's strawberry- made from fresh berries from the strawberry fields on the estate and the cook says she improved the recipe since the ball," you said. You were speaking more quickly than you normally did and Soonyoung noticed the slight tremble in your hand as you poured out two glasses of wine.

"Have you already tasted the cake as well?"

You shook your head. 

Soonyoung was not sure where his sudden burst of confidence came from. He certainly never imagined that he would ever have the strength to make a move on any woman, much less a Duchess. But you were nervous. He could see it in your anxious eyes, in the soft lips that you kept biting, and the way your hands trembled slightly as you grasped your wine glass. 

He took a small piece of cake on the spoon and held it out to you. 

"Taste it first."

You stared at him for a long moment before leaning forward and taking the bite that he offered. You swallowed it and nodded. 

"I think it's rather well made," you said softly. 

Soonyoung chuckled- he had no doubt that it was well-made, it even smelled delicious. He took a huge bite out of the cake and delighted in the sweet strawberry taste that exploded in his mouth. 

"That," he said firmly, "is the most delicious strawberry cake I have ever tasted."

You giggled. "Soonyoung, the cream is all over your face. Here…"

You leaned closer to him and used a napkin to wipe away the cream that had stuck to the corner of his lips. Soonyoung was suddenly flooded with your scent; the familiar fragrance of lilacs and an intoxicating scent that was you, so uniquely you. His dark eyes darted up and met your heavy, lidded gaze. 

You kissed him first. 

It was not a surprise- Soonyoung had been leaning forward but your lips found him much sooner than he expected, and he had to grasp the edge of the bed to steady himself. You were clumsy in your movements- perhaps it was the wine- and Soonyoung soon found himself wrapping his arms around you to steady you both in a deep, passionate kiss. Soonyoung's fingers grasped fistfuls of your satin nightgown and pulled you closer to him. 

You gasped when his lips met your neck. Soonyoung was gentle but his touch was firm and your warm bodies melted together as you both explored each other with your hands and lips. Your hands grasped fistfuls of Soonyoung's dark hair, and you let out a squeal when Soonyoung grasped your waist tightly and turned so that you were lying underneath him on the bed. 

He looked down at you for a moment. Your hair splayed out on the pillow and your lidded eyes looked up at him nervously. He could see the excitement and the anticipation, but also a hint of fear in your eyes. 

"Soonyoung…" you whispered his name hesitantly. "I… I've never…."

Soonyoung decided that he would never give you a reason to look at him with fear again. He leaned down and pressed a soft, gentle kiss to your lips and waited until he felt you relax against his lips. 

"Tell me if it hurts," he whispered gently, "and we can stop."

You looked up at him and nodded. 

"A-allright."

—-------------------------------------------------------

[loweya-blog]

Regency Obey Me Romance? 

I’m thinking of creating a regency obey me series cause I’ve been watching bridgerton, reading jane austin, and playing Good Society (a Jane Austen tabletop rpg)

Here’s a preview of the idea. 

In a world of regency romance and hidden magic, our protagonist MC returns from their time in the countryside to the city but some new faces have appeared. Seven faces to be precise. 

Lucifer, heir to the dukedom and eldest. Handsome but prideful who holds a terrifying presence. 

Mammon, second eldest with a scummy reputation for unpaid debts and a gambling problem. 

The mysterious Leviathan who hardly shows at all in society. 

Satan, a proper gentleman that is known for his rare but occasional temper. 

Asmodeus, a gorgeous man with a lecherous reputation with both the ladies and gentlemen. 

Beelzebub, an unapproachable huge man almost always seen near a buffet table. 

Belphiegore, a man of mystery who has not made an appearance in high society, only spoken of in passing. 

Little does MC know that these fine gentlemen are in truth demons sent to the human world as a part of an exchange program. Their dukedom is real but a dukedom that Lucifer has only held for the past year in preparation for the program. They have to hide their demonic nature while getting along with humans which is easier said than done. They need an ally to help them fit in, and MC may just be exactly the type of person they’re looking for...

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

Basically the idea will have the same plot as the original only with the addition of being in the human world and having to hide their demonic natures. In this world the demons are not famous so their names are not considered scandalous. Also although it will take place in the regency era, things like historical accuracy are not going to be the goal of this work. 

[sea-owl]

Can you imagine in the yandere Bridgerton's in the isekai AU had their memories of their previous lives back and are all eager now to go toe to toe with their rivals while saving them from their bad endings. Except, the once villainous rivals now appear so tame and sweet, like regency disney heros and heroines. And for a moment they are disappointed and think that all is lost. Only to realize that their previous rivals destructive tendencies have been geared towards good and on the downlow. On the outside, Simon is the gallant duke who swooped in after his childhood sweetheart's father passed and took over the business. In reality, Kate controls everything with Simon as her right hand and, while fair, will hunt down anyone who dares to hurt her family and friends. Basically, she's a regency mafia don, an angel to those in need but a devil to those who hurt her family with the help of the others. They don't want Portia to worry about them and thus present themselves as angelic to the outside world. Of course once the Bridgertons realize this, it just makes them fall harder. "Oh isn't my beloved just amazing in how they tore they person's life apart! And without spilling a drop of blood. Their precious hands must never be sullied. That passion should be reserved only for me. I shall have to marry them so that I can take care of any problems they face."

Oh that would certainly spice things up, I imagine it that they somehow woke their memories of their epilogue selves and were so excited to finally feel that passion once more they had with their villains. Immediately though they, especially Colin, Eloise, and Hyacinth, notice that Penelope and Felicity haven’t been coming over. Where were they? They had been around for years before.

Violet bitterly reveals that the women of the Featherington house moved away a long time ago, she suspects Lord Featherington sent them away. Colin did not like that answer, he was looking forward to banter with Penelope again. Had his mother not gotten to Lord Featherington first he certainly would have. Benedict and Eloise also became irritated after a trip out to the country they found neither Sophie nor Phillip at Pennwood or Romney Hall. Where the hell could they be? The pattern continued for Anthony, Daphne, and Francesca. All their villains were not where they were supposed to be!

Then like the heavens blessed them one day before the start of the 1811 season multiple of their villains all appeared outside the Featherington house! Simon, Gareth, and Lucy were not seen amongst them but it wasn’t long before they were there too. There was something different about them though, something sweet and good. The Bridgertons weren’t sure how they felt about that, yes that new goodness in them made them so much more beautiful but the dreams of reigniting that passion seemed so far away.

No they refused to believe that. They know their villains, they are after all their villains. They know that passion laid dormant in them somewhere. The Bridgertons vowed to bring it out of them.

In the meantime though, Anthony, Benedict, and Daphne have their hands full keeping those undeserving away from their villains. Their other siblings took to stalking their villains as either their villains, themselves, or both were not out in society yet. No one in or out of the ton will ever take them away from them. They will not live without them again.

The more the Bridgerton siblings watched their villains though, the more they believed that passion isn’t as far away as they first believed.

One day while the Bridgertons were spending a lovely day in the park aka their mother was stalking Lady Featherington again, the siblings took noticed of something interesting.

Their villains were having a group lunch together, and at the same time they glanced back at Portia and Mary, both consumed by their conversation. A quick nod to Felicity, who kept her focus on her mother and Mary, then to one another they made their excuses and left in small groups to walk around the park. The Bridgertons were quick to follow after them from a distance.

Benedict and Hyacinth followed Sophie and Gareth walked together. They watched as Sophie and Gareth expertly took items off of lords without their knowledge, many of them are known gamblers to the point where it affected their families. Those items were then placed near the ladies of those houses.

Michael and Penelope helped Phillip gather berries. At one point a lord passed by them, Michael stopped him and the two entered a conversation. Penelope and Phillip still gathered berries, with Penelope quietly observing. When the lord left the three went back to berry gathering. Kate, Simon, and Lucy, who were followed by Anthony, Daphne, and Gregory, stopped by where Penelope and Michael whispered something to them. Phillip handed them the berries they been picking. It was only luck that Colin remembered from his travels that those berries were poisonous and known to cause hallucinations.

Berries in hand Kate, Simon and, Lucy found the lord that Michael stopped, tucked away in a secluded place where no one would see them. It took a moment but Anthony recognized him, he was known to traffic children, but no one had proof. Kate, Simon, and Lucy confronted the lord, revealing proof no one found before. Simon restrained the man, Kate forced the berries down his throat, and Lucy searched his pockets until she found a key. They left him to wander in his halllucination, meeting back at the Featherington tent where the others now sat too.

“Did you enjoy your promenade?” Portia asked them.

“Yes,” Penelope said, “we did happen to run into Lord Lumley during our walk as well.”

Portia and Mary made a face. “I assumed he asked again about going into business together.”

“We denied him,” Kate said. “We just thought he wouldn’t make a good business partner. Too much of a liability.”

Portia nodded, proud. “Yes, you must always consider who you are going into a business deal with. Your partners can make or break a deal.”

Their villains beamed at the praise.

Oh that passion was defiantly still there. Now the Bridgertons had to make sure it was only ever directed at them.

[tree-ss]

Bridgerton Costum Rant: Penelope

 I feel one thing Bridgerton does best are the costumes. Not only by making their take on the regency period but incorporating with the storylines. And since Polin is next in the show I should start with Penelope. 

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Season 1 & 2 Outfit Analysis

Color Meaning: It is a well known fact that Penelope's “tasteless and tackless” mama dresses all her daughters in bright citrus colors, believing that bright color will draw attention for suitors. Which is ironic in a way since the Featherington sisters, especially Penelope, are the wallflowers of the show. But in truth it helps Penelope with gathering gossip for the Lady Whistledown because yellow can be the color of deceit. Yellow is often associated with happiness and positivity so you wouldn’t think a person wearing yellow would have a secret. (It can also be a color of intellect and creativity which goes into Lady Whistledown again.)

Cowardness is also another interpretation of the color yellow, which in turn can be how Penelope doesn’t share her feelings to Colin. But if you notice during two seasons as Portia is less focused on Penelope (in season 1 during the Marina drama and season 2 during the cousin Jack drama), Penelope wears different colors a little bit more. Especially in season 2. And the color that she wears the most is pink. Which pink is obviously associated with love. Something that Penelope longs for. We also see for the first time in full green dress in season 2. Which is foreshadowing to Polin because yellow and the Bridgerton blue makes green.

Design Details: I also found it interesting that the two things Penelope wears the most on her dresses are butterflies and flowers. Butterflies are symbols of transformation which we now know in season 3 Penelope is going to have. I hope we see a lot more butterflies in season 3 since no longer Penelope is going to be the wallflower. I am not an expert on flowers or their meaning but I believe the flowers she wears the most are roses and daisies. Rose symbolizes love and passion and daisies represent happiness and a new beginning.

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What I hope for in season 3

More flowing dress: If you notice in season 1 & 2 Daphne and Kate's dresses are very flowy and silky where Penlope’s dress is not. Some of her dresses look very stiff and bulky and give off a younger impression (especially since Hyacinth and even Eloise dresses look like they're made with the same matureal). Now in the upcoming season where Penelope is embracing her sexuality we should get more of those flowy dresses.

More Cooler Colors: Like I said before we really only have seen Penelope in those citrus colors which are very warm colors. Which I don’t think are the best on Nicola. Some of the dresses wash her out instead of complimenting her; which is the costume designer's intention. From some of the leaked photos of season 3 we see Penelope in more cooler colors, which look incredible on Nicola. Since the greens and blues are in the color palettes it should complement  Nicola astoundingly.

Simpler Design: Just like the color some of Penelope's best outfits are ones that are so loud. When some of the gowns are heavily detailed your eyes are drawn to the design and it almost looks too extravagant on Nicola. Some of Penelope's best dresses are more simpler.

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Anyway I hope this interests you! I really want to do Kate and Daphne/Bridgerton style vs other families of the ton.  If you have any suggestion or question for me let me know. 

[echothefandomeater]

A Frustrating Lord

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker X GN!Reader

Genre/Warnings: A little bit of Anakin belittling the reader and being an asshole but except from that its mostly enemies to lovers kind of stuff. Also this is like set in a Regency Era AU

Words: 730

Summary: You were simply enjoying the All Hallows Eve ball before a certain lord had to come in and spoil the night for you but maybe he could make it better

A/N: Okay so I got this idea because I started watching Bridgerton for the first time and I thought it would be a very interesting thing to write about so here we are. Quick little info bit here: Jedi Council members are referred to as Dukes/Duchesses, Jedi Knights as Ladies/Lords and the clones as either Knights or Captains (depending on their position) and padawns are adopted children. Find part 2 here!

The All Hallows Eve ball. A ball you frequently enjoyed every year until tonight.

You had been having fun and were talking to your adopted father Mace Windu until Lord Anakin Skywalker had walked in, he was usually a thorn in your side and a man you tried to avoid but he approached you, you looked to your father to do something but he just walked away with a look that said ‘good luck’. 

“Mx L/N, I haven’t seen you for quite a while”

The smile on your face was tight.

“Well I have unfortunately been busy as of late” he chuckled and raised an eyebrow “what do you do that keeps you so busy?” The comment did not lighten your mood.

“Lord Skywalker, I ,unlike you, do my duties responsibly and on time and I don’t act like a child” the smirk on his face stayed and he didn’t even react, 

instead he only said “you always take my jests seriously don’t you?” You left for the garden and decided to give Anakin no more of your time.

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The garden was empty and the sound of the music from inside carried through outside and mixed with the sounds of the light breeze on the trees. It gave you time to think and calm down from earlier events.

Ever since you were children and Anakin was adopted by the young Lord Kenobi he had been raving about being the chosen one. It did not help that the Duke’s and Duchesses also sang his praises constantly whereas you had always been considered mediocre by most even with Duke Windu as your father. It was also something that prevented you from finding the true happiness you wanted in life, as selfish as it seemed.

The now Duke Kenobi had always seen and complimented your abilities and you would not lie to yourself about how attractive the man was but most could see his infatuation with Duchess Satine. Some others like Lady Secura were fortunate enough to fall for their knights, Captain Bly was one of the many fine men in the army and you knew they deserved the happiness that came with love even if they had to also focus on the current war.

Talking of knights you heard the voice of Captain Knight, Rex. “Excuse me my liege but Lord Skywalker requests to speak to you” the sigh you let out was audible, you had no intent on seeming like you were frustrated with the poor captain but even the thought of speaking to Skywalker right now frustrated you.

“Tell the Lord I have no interest in speaking to him.”

The sounds of footsteps leaving made you relax, thinking the captain had gone back to exactly say what you said but the unmistakable laugh of the Lord made you tense up once again “Don’t say you’re truly upset with me Y/n.”

He stood next to you and you promptly noticed you were both out of sight from the main windows and could easily hit the man right here without any witnesses but you instead held back.

“It’s simply a beautiful night” you huffed at him.

“What is it you want Anakin? No one is here but us and you have had your time with me already” he frowned at your comment.

“Y/n I truly meant no harm earlier, I simply was having fun” you rolled your eyes “fun? Well it does not feel like fun for everyone, you seem to forget not everyone is as talented as you.”

He stepped in front of you and you avoided his eyes. You knew some kind of joke was coming, some kind of comment at your expense but nothing came. He was silent. You looked up at him, he looked amazed. 

You opened your mouth to say something but he kissed you. It was sudden and quick, part of your brain urged you to push him away but the other part of you wanted to kiss him back and you did. It was filled with raw emotion, all the frustration you held for him and all the want and love he had for you.

You both pulled back for air and Anakin laid his forehead against yours. He smiled and you could only look shocked. “You’re a better kisser than I could ever have imagined.”

Maker you wanted to kill him