#like bring penelope 'my husband' featherington back

[dollypopup]

Penelope 🤝 Me

Colin Bridgerton is my babygirl

[nicole-timey-wimey-stuff]

It Was Enchanting to Meet You

Lord Debling x Fem reader

Lord Alfred Debling x female Bridgerton reader

Synopsis - You’re the second eldest Bridgerton daughter, being forced by your brother to finally debut. You believed the ordeal would be terrible, that was until you meet the handsome Lord Debling, the handsome stranger soon captivates your mind and heart.

Warnings- fluff, period drama, feelings, very small amount of angst, confessions, great sibling relationships, suggestive themes but no smut. Still 18+ though please.

Word count- 4.7K

Today was the day, the day you were coming out into society, you’d put it off long enough. Being that you were only a year younger than your elder sister Daphne, and a year older than Eloise who were both already out. But your mother hadn’t pushed you and for that you were thankful, your eldest sibling Anthony though was another story. He had all but told you enough was a enough, and even though he would not ever force you to take a husband, you needed to be out in society despite your disagreement with it.

He did not want the great Bridgerton name tarnished, with people starting to talk of the strange girl in the family who did not conform to society’s norm, who did not like social situations, a girl who spent her time fencing, reading and horseback riding. You were a free spirit, one who preferred the wind in her hair, rather than constricted dresses, dancing and polite conversation.

So now just having turned 20 you were being launched into the world around you. This brings you back to today, your mother was flapping making sure both you and Francesca looked perfect, creamy white gowns adorning your bodies, lace perfectly placed, your dress was accentuated with gold floral embroidery and tiny puff sleeves. You adjusted your long white gloves once more before exiting your room, “Ah y/n there you are my love, have you seen your sister I can’t find her anywhere, she is not in her room!” Your mother Violet frets, she’s looking pale and exhausted. “Calm down mother, I’m sure she is about, I can hear music are you sure you haven’t checked it is not her playing?” You ask.

“Oh! No I have not, come, we shall go check together.” She replies, gently grasping your wrist and tugging you down the staircase In search of your sister, you are sure she only holds onto you so she cannot loose you too.

Walking into the drawing room you find it was indeed Francesca playing the piano forte, your mother breathing a big sigh of relief, she is also dressed ready to go. “Well then my children let’s get going shall we?” She asks as she ushers us all out to the carriages, turning to you and Francesca she says “You both look so beautiful!” Voice full of emotion. “Thank you mother” you both say in unison, she nods before you all enter the carriage and head off to the queens palace.

The whole thing went by in a blur, you walked down the aisle, bowed to the queen then exited out to the side, you’d all entered out into a garden party where people were mingling happily. Your brother Colin who had just returned from travels, was boasting to the young ladies, causing them to fawn over him. Penelope Featherington sadly watching from the sidelines, you were very aware of how she felt for your brother, being the same age you had spent many moments together. Although you wouldn’t call her a close friend, it saddened you to see her aways watching him with such hopeful but sad eyes.

You decided she could do with a distraction so you made your way over to her, “Hey Pen, how are you? I haven’t seen you about the house recently?” You ask, she jumps, obviously you’d caught her very much deep in thought. “My goodness y/n you scared me” she gasps hand on her chest, “Sorry Pen, we were both on our own so I thought I’d come talk with you” you explain. Her face softens then “Of course, you can always come talk to me, I know how hard this must all be for you” she replies her face now sympathetic. “Yes, I do so hate public attention, but alas my brother thought it was necessary” you sigh, nodding Penelope gave you a look of understanding, “We must all be pushed out into society sooner or later, I was just 17 when my mother decided I needed to be out. And look over three years later and I’m still just sat here with no suitor prospects, I wish I could find a husband” she groans, “What? Why? You’ve never seemed too interested before?” You ask.

With a sigh she turns to you “In all honesty I need my privacy, and I just cannot stand living with my family any longer, at least your family is supportive and kind, mine can be just awful” she complains. You nod, you understand, her family have always been difficult especially her mother! “Well then Pen I hope you find a kind, loyal man to be your husband this season, you deserve some happiness” you tell her in earnest. “Thank you y/n, you do too, whatever that is for you, you deserve happiness too” she says as she walks off, leaving you once more to your thoughts.

Would you find happiness? What was happiness to you anyways?

________________________________________

That evening you were attending your very first ball, nerves settled deep within your stomach. There would be many people attending Lady Danbury’s ball, and you were hoping to quietly blend into the crowds, not causing any reason to warrant any unwanted attention. Anthony had insisted on you being present, he had also given you a list of people he had chosen for your to converse with.

Your dress though, that you had chosen for yourself, it was a deep maroon, corseted down to your waist, it then flared out into a subtle A line ballgown. It had thick off the shoulders straps, sparkling embroidery and a skirt that swished as you moved. You wanted something that felt more freeing, compared to the tight empire line gowns that were the norm. Giving yourself a last once over you sighed, although you looked like a princess, you felt absolutely ridiculous.

Entering the party was as equally nerve wrecking as bowing to the queen this morning, walking down the steps after your brothers and sisters you felt all eyes shift to you, you held your head hire and floated down with all the grace you could muster, it must have worked because once you’d reached the bottom all eyes were still glued to you. Your mother came rushing to meet you, “You did well, you entered as gracefully as a swan” she gushed, you rolled your eyes at her enthusiasm, “Well mother my plan is to not cause any unwanted attention, I don’t want them thinking I am some wild animal that cannot be tamed” you sassed back. Tutting she guided you through the crowds to meet some new people, what you hadn’t noticed though, were a pair of very entranced blue eyes belonging to the one Lord Alfred Debling watching your entrance.

“Who is she?” Lord Debling asked Lady Danbury, “That would be Miss Y/N Bridgerton, second eldest daughter of the Bridgerton family” Lady Danbury answered. “I see” he replies eyes still watching you intently, Lady Danbury smirks knowingly, “I may also add, she only debuted this morning so from what I gather she is very much on the market, so to speak” she smiled. “Is that so?” He asks eyes still enchanted by you. The pair hadn’t noticed Cressida Cowper Joining them, not until she spoke up causing them to both jump slightly, “I’ve heard she’s a strange girl” she abruptly interrupts, “And where have you heard that Miss Cowper?” Asks Lady Danbury, her voice full of exasperation.

“Well I’ve heard she prefers the outdoors over social gatherings, she rides her horse bareback at some speed I may add, I’ve seen it myself. When I’ve called on Eloise this summer she’s either sprinting through the country on her horse or she has her nose in some weird book” she explains amusedly. “I don’t see how that makes her strange, but rather it makes her unique” Lord Debling affirms, “Well also” Cressida stutters out trying to find something more vexing to say about you, “Ah she also fences, she sword fights with her brothers, isn’t it incredibly odd, incorrect even for a young lady to sword fight?” She points out. “I dare say! Does she really?” He asks Lady Danbury, “Yes I believe she does” Danbury replies, the smug look is soon wiped off Cressida’s face though when he turns back to Lady Danbury, “That is incredibly impressive, what a young lady she is! I will go introduce myself” and with that he leaves in search of you.

He finds you over by the drinks helping yourself to one before retreating to the corner, “Miss Bridgerton? Are you quite alright? You appear to be hiding in the corner” he asks. You bow quickly “Lord Debling, I’m quite well thank you, just not one for large social gathering's” you answer honestly. “Ah, no me either actually, I prefer to be outdoors” he responds. You smile up at him shyly “I do too” you agree, “Riding Percy gives me much more joy than this” you continue, choking on his drink Lord Debling gasps “I beg your pardon you what?”, “Percy, he’s my horse, a Suffolk punch, my brother Anthony bought him for me for my birthday a few years back, I most enjoy riding him through the countryside, where it’s nice and quiet” you explain,

“Oh of course, I heard from Lady Danbury that you enjoy riding, he conveys, cheeks bright red now from his misunderstanding. “Lady Danbury spoke of me? To you?” You ask confused, “Umm yes, I happened to ask after you” he admits, you offer him a smile “I see and what else did she happen to say about me?” You question teasingly causing him to smirk, “Nothing much else, just that this was your first season” he stutters out now feeling very put on the spot, “Oh yes well I put it off as long as I possibly could, but my brother is forcing me to try this year” you confirm, “Is it so very bad?” He asks, teasing smile on his lips, “Well maybe not as bad as I had made it out to be in my head” you admit.

“Well then, would you care to dance?” He offers, hand outstretched towards you. “Yeah ok, why not, in the name of trying new things of course” you smile, “Of course” he repeats, clearly amused by you. He walks you out to the dance floor as everyone lines up, ready for the dance to begin. As the music plays he spins you around the dance floor, your eyes never leaving one another’s, its almost as if there’s static energy between you, your hearts pounding in your chest, you can tell everyone is watching you both, but in that moment all you can see is him.

“Is that your daughter Violet, dancing with Lord Debling?” One of the mothers asks, “Yes” your mother laughs, “I dare say it is” her face is lit up at the way your both staring at each other, thoughts of Daphne and Simon’s first dance entering her mind. This looked very promising, she thought you’d be the hardest to convince to give this whole ordeal a try, but you were entranced by the man before you, and it was Francesca who had made a rather hastily exit home already.

Lady Danbury joins your mother, “He asked about her you know, the second she entered the room” she tells your mother, knowing smirk still plastered on her face, “Did he?” Your mother asks, “Yes, he seemed very much intrigued by her, maybe we’ve made a match already” she implies, “Maybe…….. I will speak to my daughter once we are home” you mother decides. Nodding in agreement Lady Danbury takes her leave.

Once your dance comes to an end you bow and move to walk away, thinking he would have other young ladies to dance with, a soft grip of your hand causes you to turn, coming face to face with Lord Debling once more, “May I call on your tomorrow?” He asks, “Yes you may” you give a curt nod before leaving with your family.

This night had gone much better than expected, you thought to yourself whilst laying in bed, you felt excited to see what else was to come.

________________________________________

The next day you’d woken up early, to get yourself dressed for your sword fighting lesson, hoping you’d have time to freshen up before anyone had any callers, you smile to yourself at the thought of seeing Lord Debling again today. Bounding down the stairs you met your instructor Henry, “Good morning Miss Bridgerton, are you ready?” He asks, “Yes I am” you affirm, “Very good, although I don’t see how you need any more lessons now, I’ve taught you everything I know, and you have mastered it all”, you grin “Why thank you Henry, but I can tell you why I need my lessons” you reply, “And why is that Miss Bridgerton?” He asks, “Because I enjoy them” you laugh as you get into position.

Your two eldest brothers had joined you now, you were currently practicing against Benedict, completely loosing track of time. “Why do you encourage this Anthony?” Your mother asks, “Well dear mother I think it’s good that a lady knows how to defend herself, no one will ever mess with our little y/n now will they?” He questions playfully, rolling her eyes she waves him off as she leaves the room.

“Ha! I win again! Really Benedict are you even trying?” You goad, sweaty and exhausted he gives you the are you kidding look, “Yes dear sister unfortunately I am!” He grumbles, Anthony snorts out a laugh “Well I dare say these lessons are paying off, you have quite the talent” he praises you, “Thank you brother” you smile. Just then one of your maids enter the room, “Someone’s here to see you Miss” she announces, realisation hits you! Oh no Lord Debling has arrived and your still in your fencing clothes.

Walking in he smiles at you, you bow nervously before rambling out, “I’m very sorry I lost track of time my lord, please excuse me for a moment while I go change”, “Nonsense don’t worry about it, I’d love to see you in action” he answers, “Really!?” You ask surprised, he nods in response, you look to Anthony motioning for him to come join you, but he puts his hands up in surrender, “Oh no, watching Benedict loose all credibility was quite enough for one day, I will go find my wife, as I promised her a walk this morning.” He replies, “I’ll spar with you” Lord Debling offers, “Oh I couldn’t ask that of you my Lord” you hastily reply, “You’re not asking, I’m offering” he affirms before removing his jacket and placing on Benedict’s fencing armour.

Anthony lets out a laugh, “Perfect” he announces, before turning to Lord Debling “Don’t let her win, she will know. She is incredibly able” he confirms before leaving to find his wife. “Well are you ready then?” Debling asks you, “Yes, quite ready” you smirk back. As the two of you spar the static energy returns from last night, you fall into an effortless rhythm against one another, he fights well, there is technique and power to his moves, but you are just too quick for him, eventually knocking the sword from his hands and pointing yours to his chest in victory,

“I say! You are rather good at this aren’t you” he laughs, “Yeah I think it’s because I enjoy it so much” you agree.

“You Miss Bridgerton are an incredibly rare flower indeed” he says, “Thanks” you reply warm blush adorning your cheeks, “Will you save me a dance at tonight’s party?” He asks. “Yes of course” you reply maybe a little too hastily, “Well then, until tonight” he offers placing a delicate kiss to your knuckles. Before leaving he looks back towards you once more, giving you the most endearing smile.

You were very much looking forward to seeing him again tonight.

________________________________________

Over the next few weeks the two of you became much more acquainted with one another, you danced together at every party, usually more than once, you took chaperoned strolls together in the park and your family had also invited him over a couple of times for dinner.

You’d learnt much about him, his love for animals and wildlife, the fact he didn’t eat meat, all his adventure and conservation ideas, you’d become completely enamoured with this man, It appeared he also was with you too.

Today you were both taking a stroll in the park, the sun was warm and the smell of blossoms filled the spring air. Your maid was walking a few steps behind you, keeping a watchful eye. “Beautiful day is it not?” You ask him cheerfully, enjoying the sunshine on your skin. “Yes it is, but I can see something much more beautiful” he replies watching you carefully, you turn your head to hide your reddening cheeks. “Will you be attending the garden party tomorrow? I hear there will be a new form of transport being showcased” you ask, “Yes I believe I will be attending” he responds while smiling at you, grinning up at him you offer a nod in response.

“Well I bid you farewell Lord Debling, I have promised to help my mother this afternoon, I will see you tomorrow?” You offer, “Yes I shall see you tomorrow, good afternoon Miss Bridgerton” he replies. You spare him one last glance, before you walk off with your maid.

________________________________________

It was the day of the garden party and you were stood looking at the enormous ballon in awe, was that really supposed to be able to carry people through the sky? “Quite spectacular isn’t it?” Lord Deblings voice cut through your thoughts causing you to jump, “My Lord, you gave me a fright!” You gasped, “I am sorry, that was not my intention” he responds “That’s ok, it is spectacular yes, although I do worry how it’s supposed to transport people” you reply.

“Yes quite, but I suppose only time will tell, are you well Miss Bridgerton?” He asks, “Yes, thank you my Lord I am very well” you affirm, “Good” he nods.

As the afternoon goes on Penelope, Eloise and Cressida join in your conversation, Cressida going out of her way to try and impress Lord Debling, not even caring how desperate and contrary it makes her appear. Penelope spends the whole time staring at Colin and Eloise is pretty much rolling her eyes at everybody’s antics. Cressida continues to laugh at something he said, almost hanging off his arm, causing a pit of jealousy to stir in your stomach.

You turn your attention once again to the large ballon, which is now rocking very unstably in the wind, creaking and groaning as the ropes loosen. Just as they snap your brothers are rushing over to pull them back, using as much strength as they can muster to pull the thing back into place. All you can do is watch in terror as they lose control and the ship comes hurtling towards you, it all happens so quick, one miniute you’re watching terrified, the next you’re on the floor Lord Deblings body shielding you.

“Are you quite alright?” He asks gazing into your eyes, “Yes all thanks to you”. He carefully traces his fingertips down the side of your jaw, you watch him with wide eyes, wanting nothing more than to lean in and kiss him. Someone loudly clears their throat behind you, you both jump apart, turning to see Cressida and Eloise watching you both.

Lord Debling jumps up before offering you a hand up too, “What luck you were there to save my sister, thank you my Lord” Eloise states, “Of course, it was nothing” he replies before walking off.

“What was that y/n?” Eloise gasps, “I hardly know” you reply, completely shocked yourself.

________________________________________

That very evening you arrived at the ball still very much in shock, more so by Lord Deblings behaviour than nearly being squashed by the heavy ballon. Your mother currently had you making small talk with every eligible Lord in the room, “Mother is this really necessary?” You grumbled as you made your way over to yet another man, “Yes my darling daughter it is, until Lord Debling actually proposes you must keep your options open” she insists, “But Anthony said I do not have to marry this season, only that I must be out in society” you ask confused.

“Yes I know my sweet girl, but every year you’re on the market the less desirable you become, now make haste” she commands, you roll your eyes at her as she drags you through the crowd, “Lady Bridgerton, Miss Bridgerton, how nice to see you both” Lord Cambell greets, “Lord Cambell, lovely to see you again” you reply with a very forced smile. “Would you have any space left on your card to include a dance with me?” He asks, you stutter before your mother replies on your behalf, “My daughter would be delighted”, you resentfully offer your wrist and card for him to write his name on, before bowing and leaving to find some corner to hide in.

After no empty corner is found you retreat to the gardens in hope of some peace, leaning against the cold stone of the house you close your eyes, taking a deep breath. “Miss Bridgerton you should not be out here alone” Lord Deblings voice causes you to jump, “My goodness my Lord! Must you always startle me so.” You gasp, “Sorry I never intend too” he replies in earnest, “But you really shouldn’t be out here alone” he repeats as he steps closer, “Yes I know, but I need a minute to breathe, it’s awfully stuffy in there, and my mother is being a nuisance….” You trail off, voice stuttering as he steps closer once more, “By nuisance you mean by parading you around the room, like a prized animal?” He smirks, “Yes” you stammer, feeling more breathless than before if that was at all possible.

He carefully moves a piece of hair from your face, “Do you not wish for the attention of the Lords here tonight Miss Bridgerton?” He asks, “No, not from those ones anyways” you whisper, then in a flash his mouth meets yours, it’s passionate and gentle, it’s fire but also calm. Your fingers grasp his jacket as you pull him in closer, moulding your body to his own, his fingers move from your face to your neck, tilting your face to give him better access. His other hand grasps your thigh as he pulls it over his hip, grounding down into you causing a low whimper from your lips, moving from your mouth he kisses down your neck, nipping at your sweet spot, your hands slide into his hair as you grind into his hips once more.

Your movement causes him to gasp before quickly pulling himself away from you, leaving you a breathless mess. “I shouldn’t have done that” he worries, “My Lord?” You ask confused and worried, “I shouldn’t have put you in that position I am so very sorry” he repeats and your heart sinks, was he going to reject you now? Were you about to loose all credibility? Sensing your despair he quickly comforts you, “What I mean to say is that shouldn’t have happened before I asked for your hand, I do not wish to dishonour you, if you will have me and your brother agrees to it, I would very much like to make you my wife” he confirms, “Really?” You ask.

“Yes really, I am quite enamoured with you my dearest y/n, I came here to the Ton to seek out a wife, I thought I could find a match of convenience, one where I could travel and my wife would happily stay at home managing my estate. I did not think love was in the cards for me, I believed that my work would take up too much space in my heart for that, but then I met you, and my goodness did you change everything” he explains.

“Is this a confession of love my Lord?” You ask still very much breathless.

“It is yes, I didn’t come here to seek it which makes this as much a surprise to me as it is to yourself” he replies.

“I love you too” you admit, which causes his handsome face to light up, “I too did not believe this would happen, when my brother asked me to debut this season, I admit I hated the very idea, but I’m so very glad I did as it lead me to you” You confess.

“Well then my love, I believe I have a question to ask your brother” he replies, his hand seeking to find your own, grasping his with yours you reply “I suppose you do”. He gives you one last kiss on your cheek before heading inside to seek out your brother. You are still stood against the house, breaths still racing as you trace your lips with your fingertips, the tingling of his kisses still present.

Upon entering your home that evening Anthony stops you “Y/N may I speak with you a moment?” He asks, “Yea of course brother what is it?”

“Lord Debling has asked for my permission to propose to you, he says he has the deepest of feelings for you and he wishes you to be his wife, I know him to be a very kind man, one who obviously wouldn’t ever hurt an animal or a woman, he has a great estate and great prospects, so if it’s what you want I will agree to it at once, but I told him I had to talk with my sister first” he explains.

You smile knowing how deeply your family cares for each other, this is something you will never take for granted. “Truth is brother, I love him very much, I didn’t think it were possible to find someone I could fall for so deeply, but here we are” you reply.

“Very well then I shall give him my permission” Anthony affirms. You walk over and give him a chaste kiss to the cheek, “Thank you brother” you respond, he nods giving your shoulder an affectionate squeeze before wandering off.

You were going to be married! Not only that to a man you love, you felt such happiness in that moment your chest could burst.

________________________________________

The next morning whilst reading your maid walked in announcing Lord Debling was here to see you, you nod at her to let him in.

“Hello my love, are you well this morning?” He asks as he enters the room.

“I am quite well my Lord thank you” you smile.

“Please call me Alfred, such formalities feel no longer necessary”

“Very well Alfred, but then you must call me y/n so we are on equal terms” you reply.

He laughs, “Of course, my dearest y/n, so I’m guessing it’s no secret to as why I am here?” He asks.

“Well I have an idea, but I will need you to clarify” you respond with wit.

“Very well Miss y/n Bridgerton” he begins before getting down on one knee, “You have bewitched my heart, and I’m asking if you will do me the extraordinary honour of becoming my wife?”

Walking towards him you kneel down in front of him, reaching out and tracing his stubbled cheek, “Yes Alfred, I will marry you” you gush before moving in and placing your lips against his, in a sweet soft kiss.

Just then all your family enter the room offering congratulations, you thank them all but your eyes never leave his, as you think to yourself yes you believe this will be a very happy marriage indeed.

[wroteclassicaly]

18+

Warnings: Smut, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, slight fluff, dominant Penelope, threesome, some comfort, plus sized reader, self-esteem issues, slight anxiety, and NSFW.

Pairings: Colin Bridgerton x Penelope Featherington x Female Reader

Wordcount: 1,926

A/N: Hi! This is my first piece of fic (trash) into the Bridgerton world. I’ve never read any fics, haven’t seen all of the show yet. I’ve only recently gotten into it because of Penelope/Polin. Hope you enjoy, and I look forward to producing more content (likely turning this into a storyline)!

Your hands feel cold, slick with an icy sweat that seems to evaporate into heat. The more you seem to fold into yourself, she can recognize and wrap her fingers in your own. It is a comfort, however, also a reminder, as your fingertips would brush across the diamond she bears. He is not meant for you, she is not meant for you. They belong to one another.

You have to remember why you were brought to their home in the first place. And ultimately, what you do to earn your way in this life. That would surely shame their family name if anyone were to see you here, sneaking through corridors in the middle of the night with the newly married Penelope Featherington — now proudly assuming her Bridgerton name. Your thoughts are shaken from you, as you round the corner, stopping short at the buttery glow of light spilling from beneath the doors. You edge away slightly, spare hand reaching to clutch your sleep attire closed.

“You know that we will not object if your mind has changed.” She speaks with a soft reassurance, the nail on her thumb scratching along your palm.

That is the most odd thing — an emotion, in which you cannot process yet. A connection you’ve already established with them. It prevents you from shying away, from objecting. You’re shaking your head, inhaling rather sharply. “I do not have very many reservations, Mrs. Bridgerton —“

“ — Penelope, please?”

You can do nothing but smile in return. “Penelope. Forgive me, I suppose my curiosity has taken a walk with my nerves tonight. But I will not let it get the better of me. I still want this. To give what I can, to you and to your husband.”

She stops short of those doors and takes both of your hands into her own. She’s a picture of this fine, smooth porcelain, so full and perfect that you could spend hours worshipping if given the chance. Maybe that night is tonight?

Her voice is roping you back in. “This is a mutual thing that Colin and myself have agreed upon. It is not just about us. This consent you’ve given, it does not extend only to our pleasure, but also to your own.”

You’re inhaling sharply, understanding her implications, but unsure why. Your role is to give them whatever they need and then go. And this is what they’d like? It’s as if time stops when Penelope wraps her dainty fingers around the door handle, pushing, the force bringing your dressing gowns a few inches off of the floor by their hems. If you thought that was something, the sight that you’re greeted with is enough to wake your entire bloodline from beneath the soil.

Candles are draped around the room for more than just the ability to see, giving it all a personal ambience. This is their personal bedroom, not a study, not a hidden place, but where their marriage bed is located. Your mouth becomes parched as you look around to truly take it in, the doors closing behind you not even startling you. Penelope stays close by, especially until you’re noticing him. He’s patient, a slight smile pressed into his beautiful mouth.

“Good evening, ladies. I take it we’re alright then?”

It’s that honey-hot depth that captivates you, causing you to reach back to Pen, seeking her support. She encourages you to meet her husband in a few short feet. He’s clad in his cream colored night shirt, his silhouette shrouded in candlelight. His hair has grown out a little, a slight touch of curl sweeping across the top. Their radiating body heats caging you in, it’s a feeling you are sure won’t ever occur again in your lifetime.

“Mr. Bridgerton. Good evening, Sir.”

He grins as though a feather has tickled the crafted end of his jawline. Penelope shares a fond look over your shoulder.

“No need for formalities. It’s safe in here, I promise you.” Penelope is nodding as his arm raises, one eyebrow to gauge your permission. You don’t object. And his rather large hand is caressing your cheek, stifling the air inside of your lungs. “Call me Colin, yes?”

Like the sweetest of sugar, his name rolls off your tongue without pause. “Colin.”

Penelope’s hands find your shoulders from behind, sliding around your collar to dip in, caress your skin. You swallow, but accept. “Whatever you wish to do, you have my permission.” Your head briefly attempts to look over your shoulder as you also address her. “The both of you.”

~*~

It hadn’t taken long for things to progress between the three of you. When Colin’s mouth found your own, Penelope had slowly unraveled your gown from your torso, everyone holding their breaths as it hit the floor. Your chin became pinched beneath his sturdy fingers, tilting until he had access to your neck. Pen’s hands aimlessly wandering with what you thought wasn’t a purpose, just an exploration. How wrong you’d been the moment that her hands had found your full breasts, ever-so-gently caressing your areola.

It wasn’t that she was experienced in her movements, no. It was how eager she seemed to touch you, to have your body beneath her grasp like this. And it only added energy on top of the mounting tension already in the room. You did not have to guide, nor teach. Colin maneuvered, gave his wife space to learn, to feel another woman’s body.

He’d coaxed her around, taking her previous placing behind you, her pupils had encased her irises into an inky black velvet. The way her mouth had become swollen from biting her full, lower lip, her hands unable to stop touching you. In the end, you closed the gap, Colin caressing the nape of your neck as you kissed his wife with fervor. It was beautiful, the two of you. Your shape wore a little more weight than Penelope’s, but it was exceptional, in his eyes — seeing women that could not see the beauty in themselves, lost in one another this way.

He could only hope that you’re both seeing it now, as well.

As you’d broken apart, Colin stepped to the side, voice a bitten rasp, offering both hands. “Shall we take this to bed?”

~*~

You aren’t able to breathe correctly, breasts heaving, legs wide open to make room for him, for her.

The second that they had laid you down, that he had undressed his wife and kissed her, he whispered something in her ear. She’d gone red, but nodded and joined your right side. You tried not to let languid anxieties find their way inside, tried to remain proper when he had stood before you, bedside — all hard muscle, trim hips that held his length in between. He would be a fit, even for you.

He’d licked his tongue at the corner of his mouth, inhaling rather sharply, his hair covered chest already drenched in desperate perspiration. “I am going to show Pen how to touch you between your thighs. Will you let me — us, will you let us?”

How her hand looked in his as he guided, separating two fingers and sucking them into his mouth, causing a not so proper word to leave your lips — it’s surely a sight that could cure those without clear sight. The way their lips had parted when her finger breached your opening, sliding into your wet heat, knowing how it felt for the first time. She’d moved to his ministrations along your jugular, everyone entangled in a pulling, a pushing, more. Heavens, more. You had felt the tears glisten in your eyes, melt into your lashline, cooling on the air.

Colin had asked if you were alright, to which you drug him by his wrist, cupping his palm over your breast. “Please, please.”

~*~

The way the ceiling looks above you, you cannot see through your hazed over vision. The candles burning, melting down, you are not concerned with. Even the summer’s rain that has begun to pour on earth, there is no room to ponder. What you’re thinking of within this moment, it is the man between your legs, one hand held behind your crown, the other holding onto your waist as he moves so deeply inside of you, precise, wonderfully intricate thrusts, that discover a place in your body that you weren’t aware existed. Why should you? No client had ever taken this much time, nor care for what your body felt.

It was never about that. You were there to serve, purpose fulfilled, you left tattered and empty. But with Colin and Penelope Bridgerton? You aren’t sure what this is. The singular certainty that you do have, however, is that you do not wish for this to end.

There’s a fire in Penelope’s eyes as she sees you holding back a brewing question, your hands shaking. The one wound around Colin’s shoulder, the other that you have currently working between her legs. She can barely hold it together, beautiful and angelic to you, keeping you able to take her husband without issue. She is nodding at you, knowing what you need. You’re past that point, coasting over realms undiscovered, heavenly worlds that only Colin Bridgerton has directions to, powers to unlock.

She removes her hands from you both, dipping them down to his bottom, feeling, grabbing, and that moan drips from her like the cream that’s accumulated across her thighs, and she pushes, locks in tight. Like he’s under command, under her spell, his hips take you faster, harder — giving you exactly what you could not ask for. You’re not sure who is louder at this point, but everyone begins to breathe harder, lungs exerted, hands finding one another. You clip onto his neck’s nape, your other hand finding Penelope’s soft, soaked mound, and he is gripping onto her breast, his spare reaching back to hold onto your hand that is on his neck.

Penelope reaches her peak first, how she tightens around your fingers, collapsing right into the pillow beside your head. It triggers you to follow, body briefly arching, throat unable to let out anything that is not a pitiful, intense cry. You’re swimming with this, ignited in a reality that you cannot imagine not having endured before. Colin tenses, his forehead finding your own, and Penelope is lifting to watch you to complete your peaks. He sighs himself into a drawn out whine, right into your open mouth.

And then it’s over, his full weight pressed into you. It’s like there’s instruments that have suddenly stalled and cast a curtain aside to let you hear every sound you’ve been ignoring, incapable of. Heavy rain, battering winds, and rushing heartbeats. You all take a thoughtful moment, before Colin is lifting on forearms. “You’re alright? The both of you?”

You concur with Penelope. Colin smirks, bringing your slick covered fingers, letting them work into his mouth. He sucks her essence free of you, and they lean to trade a kiss, before taking a place on either side of you. Pen reaches for the blankets, pulling them up and gently tucking you in.

“I believe I will ask Mr. Bridgerton to extend the invitation.”

You turn to Colin, a question written into your features. He doesn’t give you too much time to ponder. “You will stay with us? Tonight?”

It’s everything that you want, but also everything that you cannot ask for. Like a fool, you’re already falling lovesick.

What have you done?

[thekatebridgerton]

So you guys know the trope where the hero turned into a villain because he wanted to resurrect his dead wife?. I just love the idea of the villain actually succeeding because then he'd have a lot to explain to said wife. And it got me thinking about this but in a Bridgerton context

So here's my fantasy Villain Au,:

Because I think the #1 male lead who would burn the world to bring back his dead wife would be Anthony, in a fantasy setting this guy was a Viscount with magic in his bloodline whose beloved Kate, died in a tragic carriage accident, before he could apologize for ignoring her during their first month of marriage. So yes, he 100% turns to the powers of darkness and goes full evil conqueror path to necromancy to bring his Kate back. Which is the start of his fantasy villain arc.

His brothers also start out as heroes, but Anthony, in true fantasy villain fashion goes after their most beloved ladies and kills them so Benedict and Colin 'can see things his way' and have a bigger incentive to help him achieve dominion over the darkest of magics and revive the dead. Colin was the easiest really, his idiot brother thought he could stop Anthony with some magic spell book and some foreign wizardy learned in his travels but all it took to drive Colin over the edge was dangling little Penelope Featherington Infront of him and cruely letting death take her away before Colin could confess his love to his dear Lady Whistledown. All Anthony had to do was give Penelope push and his would be sister in law misscast a deadly spell from her own spell book. And Colin was convinced that Anthony's way into the dark arts of bringing back the dead was the way to go.

Sophie was perhaps the easiest person in the world to dupe. A maid with a heart of gold, so easily convinced to help Anthony find his beloved Kate.. in the underworld. That she never understood why Benedict seemed to be going on so many quests trying to stop his brother. Really Anthony quite liked Sophie, she would rather die than accept Benedict's offer to be his mistress and adding to that the fact that his seemingly worst enemy happened to be his elder brother, tragically misunderstood for trying to use magic to revive his true love. (Give or take a few subjugated kingdoms and a lot of war over some sacred magical artifacts he absolutely needed) Made Sophie very keen on volunteering for a little trip into the underworld. And Benedict very keen on bringing her back.

Hyacinth and Gregory were children easily led by their only father figure, and their wise mother only needed a nice tower where she could remain imprisoned. because really Anthony never worried about his sisters, the death of John guatanteed that Francesca would be on his side from the start. Daphne loved her children too much to oppose him and Eloise who was the only one strong enough to stop him, was persuaded to join him with in the same blow that took out Colin (Penelope, dear Penelope, what a nice friend for his Kate to have in Anthony's new world order).

The fun begins when the villain succeeds and Viscountess Kate Bridgerton is resurrected, along with fellow friends Penelope and Sophie. Only to find the world in darkness and her once kind and responsible husband as it's new evil dictator.

Because Kate is still very surprised at the fact that Anthony conquered all the magic nations and plunged the world into the new dark age of magic, apparently all because loved her. Last time she saw him, he was running away from his feelings and leaving her alone in the marital bedchamber without so much as an explanation. But sure, her heroic, family first, by the letter husband loves her enough to plunge the world into a dark age, sounds fake but okay.

Then there's poor Penelope and Sophie who never even got to see a love declaration from Colin and Benedict. As far as Penelope was concerned Colin joining the evil brother he was trying to defeat just because she died didn't make much sense. Let alone becoming one of Anthony's main force of terror. Someone has got to explain, how exactly kissing Colin once and not accepting his horny marriage proposal in a carriage before she died...led to this

Sophie, well she's just mad that she was pulled from the fantasy world version of heaven. (Valhalla? Elysium?) All because Benedict couldn't accept that she didn't want to be his mistress, and would rather leave the whole Buisness of the masquerade behind. She was happy in the place where good souls go. How was she supposed to know her death made Benedict into the worst version of himself? He went from charming masquerade ball gentleman, to kinda rude hero, to... A bit Unhinged and obsessed with her, dark magic supporter. Sophie really has no idea how trusting the bad guy once and helping him get his wife, could have gone so terribly wrong for her.

This au has been in my mind for a while for the potential drama and hilarity. I don't think about high fantasy Bridgerton scenarios often. But when I do, you know they're fun. Tagging @sea-owl and @bellascarousel because I need your thoughts on this

[hiyyihrts]

Hi! I'm a long time lurker processing some feelings about the supposed "love triangle", and I had some thoughts about the way Penelope's feelings are being talked about. I think to some degree, the girl really spirals and catastrophizes so bad she makes her situation worse, hence her reaction to Eloise's near call with the queen and it seems to be how she reacted to the two instances she seems to think mean Colin would never have any romantic interest in her.

In the "You're Pen." scene she seems to take that to mean that she doesn't even count as a woman, when it's him expressing that he holds her to such high regard that she matters so much she transcends those boundaries.

In the "I would never court Penelope Featherington." scene, it feels like she really takes that as some kind of final break in her crush brain dreams of ending up with the guy she's infatuated with, purely because she's already spiraling from the Eloise situation. I think she's internalised the idea that she literally does not count as a woman based on her treatment from the members of the ton and her family and projected that haaard on Colin and his words and actions in that petty way teenagers whose crushes don't like them back do.

And while I hate it so much 😭😭😭😭 that's the point of the third (wheel) point of the triangle is, I think. Lord D is a seemingly highly eligible bachelor (based on Lady Danbury bringing him up to the queen) and seemingly has little to no ties to the majority of the ton, which means he's a wealthy titled Lord... is a vegetarian? (idk, he doesn't interest me, but his narrative potential is interesting) importantly; isn't influenced by the tons perception of her and he seems taken by Penelope...

the guy who probably could go for the diamond of a season goes for her when she's trying to be beautiful and seen as a woman, and that's probably really flattering after all... AND YET... SHE IS STILL SEEMINGLY NOT INTERESTED!! SHE LOOKS GENUINELY UNHAPPY(?) IN THE TRAILER CLIP WHEN HE TELLS HER SHE'S LOOKING BEAUTIFUL (can be other sections spliced together, admittedly) SHE KEEPS SEEKING OUT COLIN WHEN SHE'S TALKING TO HIM, SHE WANTS COLIN TO BE THE ONE WHO SEES HER (the way she seemingly keeps looking at him and Ben at the Moon and Stars Ball clip in the trailer)

idk, she finds a perfect mans on paper, gets her makeover, gets her confidence up, and she's this close to winning in the Regency London Game of Life, and she STILL can't help looking back towards the one thing she really wants- her eat pray love boo making just the saddest eyes at her, which is fair and valid Pen, those beautiful blue eyes really do shine when he's being kind ❤❤❤

You’re so right tho !! I apologize if I don’t express this exactly how I want to bc my thoughts are all over the place 😭

but I think she wants to have someone look at her in the way that she sees Colin and admires him, and to be desired in a way that she’s seen so many other young lords and ladies be desired and wanted, so I can see how she’s so confident and feeling on top of the world with her new transformation. And then to have someone like Lord Debling take interest in HER right away and not the diamond of the season or any other leading lady must have her ecstatic, because that’s what she would like to have someone treat her as- desirable and love her for her and all of her traits that no one seems to notice (except for Eloise and Colin respectively) and Lord Debling is giving her exactly that. So far from what we’ve seen and heard them say is that he’s respectful and likes her for her and has all of the qualities and attributes that someone like Pen would like to see or find in a husband, but she just CAN’T shake whatever she still feels for Colin, even tho she’s very clearly making efforts to try and get over her long held feelings.

As much as love triangles frustrate me (because a lot of the times they’re done in a very silly manner and create drama for the sake of drama) I think it will be very well done this season. And I say that because while it’s Pen and Colin are figuring out their feelings despite having Debling in the picture, I don’t think they’ll continue it to the point where Lord Debling is taken advantage of (like Pen accepting a proposal and then breaking it off etc etc) and I think they’ll give us a very delicious hint of a triangle without actually making it a full-blown triangle. I really don’t think Pen will develop any deep feelings for Debling, and if she does, I assume it’ll be more out of admiration and understanding than of actual attraction or love (because she still resides those feelings for Colin even if she doesn’t quite realize she’s doing so)

I hope this all made sense anon I’ve had a glass of wine and feel like I’m rambling lmao 😭

[sea-owl]

Colin finally married Penelope which means that her huge dog will be staying in the Featherington house during their honeymoon.

Colin, muttered to himself: Finally.

Penelope: I would like to bring Artemis with us to our honeymoon. Would that be alright with you?

Colin, fake smile: Why of course Pen, I would glad to have her come join us.

Later.

Colin, laying on the floor, arm crossed because Artemis decided to sleep with Penelope in bed on their honeymoon.

Colin: That dog is staying at my family place the next time we go out of the country.

Later

Colin, laying down on the floor of the nursery room with his nieces and nephews, arm crossed because Artemis decided to sleep with Penelope in THEIR MARITAL bed.

Colin: I HATE THAT DOG!!!!

I feel like once polin are at their married stage, Colin has become the one human man Artemis tolerates most and even begrudgingly likes. They have a deal that Colin gets a big bed so all three of them can fit on the nights Artemis sleeps with them. Penelope either sleeps sandwiched between them, or Artemis lays across both of them.

Though, that decreases significantly when they have kids. Artemis starts sleeping in the nursery then. Penelope is still her person, but these are also Penelope's pups, and like hell is Artemis not gonna watch over them.

Artemis also has her own room in the house that she can go to whenever she pleases. Technically, it's supposed to be the room for the lady of house, but since Penelope would rather share a room with her husband, she repourposed it.

Artemis is at her most distracted though whenever they visit Kate and Anthony at their London home or Aubrey Hall during family get togethers. Because visiting them means Newton, and Newton tries his hardest to woo Artemis.

Colin thought it was hilarious when he caught on to what Newton was trying to do. Mainly because he's seen Newton ride on Artemis's back. She somehow threw him up there when his little legs weren't moving fast enough for her liking.

[toriaurorawriter15]

What you're made of

Chapter 1: The Beginning

"Pen..." a distressed man calls out on repeat.

Inside the chamber is a man lying in between consciousness as his strained body tries to look for her, with no luck.

In front of his bed is a dark-skinned lady with brown curly hair in a high ponytail. Her brown eyes look back and forward from her fidging hands and the man in the king-size bed. This woman is pacing around the bed while she waits for the person she hasn't talked to since her twins were born.

She didn't understand why her spinster cousin was the person her husband was calling for. Still, she had no choice but to have Penelope Feathingtion visit Colin Bridgerton.

On the other side of the chamber bed are two people with determination on their faces.

One of the two is a pale woman with gorgeous blue eyes, a lacy light green regency dress, and fiery red curls. She is controlling her emotions while her right-hand rubs her stomach. Beside her is a man who resembles the almost unconscious man inside the bed chamber. His brown eyes stare at the woman on his right with concern as his tan-white right hand is on the vintage doorknob.

"Are you sure we should do this today, Miss. Featherington?" He asks.

"Viscount Bridgetion, the Bow Street Runners are in position. Your brothers Benedict, Gregory, Duke of Hastings, and you have spent years helping me gather all the incriminations on Mrs. Thompson and my mother. The time has come for me to complete the last part of the plan." Penelope confidentiality whispers to the stress Viscount.

"I wish there was more that I could do for Colin and you." He confesses in defeat.

The Viscount runs his fingers through his wavy brown hair while he waits for his future sister-in-law's response.

"You have assured me that if Colin and I don't make it, you will take our child as your own, and that is all we need."

A chuckle comes from his lips, and he states, "If you need any help, I will be right outside the door." before handing her a piece of paper with Colin's signature at the bottom.

Penelope accepts the paper and folds it up as Anthony Bridgeton opens the large applewood doors towards the bedroom.

The black woman inside the room looks at the Irish woman with anger behind her eyes while they greet each other with fake smiles. She then bows respectfully to her ex-brother-in-law.

"Viscount Bridgeton, thank you for bringing my cousin." She requests. "Could you leave us for a moment?"

The man with wavy brown hair looks over in Penelope's direction while she nods, we will be fine, gesture.

He glances at the two women and utters "Very well." before walking out of the wing.

Once the door closes, a scowl replaces the smiles on both cousins' faces.

Tension fills the air until they hear the man calling for his lover.

"Penelope!" he feverly whispers in adoration.

The woman he calls for looks in his direction as she prepares to act like the naive woman her cousin believes her to be.

"What have you done to my husband!" her cousin accuses.

Pen looks dumbfounded at her cousin before asking in a scared little girl voice, "What do you mean, Marina?"

Marina is ballistic at Pen's response, but this vile woman tries a different tactic.

"Pen, Olive, Amanda, and I are worried about Colin's health. My children want to know why their father isn't around anymore. ," she states in a worrisome tone as she walks over to the unconscious man's side before grabbing onto his right hand.

Marina interviews her left hand with Colin's right hand. The wedding ring on her index finger is in clear view while she looks at Pen with a satisfied grin.

Silence fills the room again while Marina's action hits a nerve in Pen's heart, and she knows what she is made of.

After all, Penelope Featherington has never stopped loving Colin Bridgerton from afar.

[quotergirl19]

Polin’s First Kiss Scene In My Head:

Colin is so stupidly sure that Pen is his best friend and nothing more, and so eager to get back in her good graces after embarrassing her so thoughtlessly, that he becomes obsessed with it. He decides to call on her and when her servants leave to get them refreshments, he tells her that he not only intends to help her but he vows to find her the perfect husband or marry her himself. He gives her his word as a gentleman.

Penelope tells him he’s not thinking straight, he never even wanted to court her, why would he risk having to marry her? But Colin insists he’s just that certain that he can ensure she marries for love this very season.

Penelope insists that he should not make that vow because she knows she will not marry for love. She doesn’t say it’s because she loves him, she simply states it as a fact telling him that as a woman entering her third season on the marriage mart she no longer harbors expectations that she will ever marry for love. But she reminds Colin it’s different for him. He is a man and a Bridgerton, he’s free to take his time and find his heart’s desire. She tells him giving up his chance for true love to marry her would ruin his life.

Colin grows serious and tells her he doesn’t like that she thinks so little of herself because she’s the best person he knows. There’s no one he trusts or believes in more than her, she’s good, kind, loyal, smart and funny. She’s understanding and encouraging and he would be lucky to build a life with her. And he doesn’t believe for a second that having a family with his best friend would be anything but a blessing.

Penelope is moved by what he says, tearing up at how he imagines her as his wife and that the thought is a happy one for him. But she tells him he’s forgetting that in order to have a family with her they would need to be intimate and that he could never bring himself to touch her.

Colin tells her she’s wrong but all Pen can think of is what he said that night to his friends and the way he mocked the idea of wanting her. The hurt that the memory causes makes her snap at him and she insist he’s not being truthful, that he couldn’t bring himself to so much as kiss her and he knows it. Something about the look in her eye sparks an immediate and intense reaction in Colin and without thinking, he kisses her.

Penelope is caught off guard but this is Colin and she’s always loved him. She has enough presence of mind to realize she may never have a chance like this again and if this was her one chance to kiss the only man she would ever love, she would not waste it. Penelope kisses Colin with everything she has, melting into him, molding her body to his, desperate to memorize the feeling of being in his arms, the heat of his embrace, the firm muscles of his back as she clung to him. She’d never heard anything as seductive as the groan that slipped from him when he deepened the kiss and his hands slid firmly down to grasp her bottom. Just then they heard footsteps approaching and immediately broke apart, he took one swift step positioning himself as though he’d been looking out the window and she dropped to the chaise lounge behind her and stunned him by casually asking if it looked as though it would rain soon, just as the servant entered with tea and biscuits.

Colin replies, numbly because his head was elsewhere. He’d just kissed Penelope Featherington, a lady, an innocent. But that kiss was anything but innocent yet she was so unaffected that she could remark on the weather, while he was quite sure the way she kissed him just changed his entire world.

But before Colin could process what it meant that a kiss between him and Penelope could stir him the way it did, she had locked her beautiful blue eyes with his, agreed to his terms and he’d left. And all he could think was how he’d given her his word and how if she fell in love he would never have another chance to hold her in his arms again. Suddenly that thought, the thought that Penelope might never be his, hit Colin like a punch to the gut.

[sweetbuckybarnes]

The Eras Tour: 03. Act I: Lover

Pairings: Colin Bridgerton + Penelope Featherington, Anthony + Kate Bridgerton

Polin Masterlist | Series Masterlist

May 5th, 2023

Once the Bridgerton family plus Penelope, got themselves into Section 113 and prepared.

Penelope looked over at Benedict, who was currently sitting to the left of her. "Can you record the concert for me, please Benedict?" Penelope asks her, handing her fully-charged phone to the second oldest Bridgerton.

"Sure," he tells her, taking her phone from her outstretched hand.

Eloise Bridgerton, who was sitting on the other side of Benedict, looked over at her best friend. "Make sure you get your phone back from him at the end of the night."

Benedict looks over at his little sister and simply thumps her with his thumb and forefinger right between her eyebrows.

Penelope rolled her eyes at the bickering Bridgertons, as did Gregory sitting to her right, Violet and Daphne sitting at the end of the first row of five Bridgertons and Penelope, as Hyacinth sat behind Daphne - followed by Francesca, Colin, Anthony and Kate.

Penelope looked down at Gregory (however, she didn't have to look down too much as he was now up to her shoulder), smiling at the second youngest Bridgerton. "Are you ready for your first concert Greg?"

He was slightly terrified, and he reached his hand over to hold tightly of Penelope's. "l am a little bit scared..."

"Don't worry, sweetheart," Penelope cooed, bringing him closer to her side. "You have me, and who knows - maybe by the end of tonight, you might be a Swiftie!"

Whilst the Bridgertons had been talking amongst themselves, the timer had been ticking down.

It's Fearless, (It's been a long time coming), big reputation (It's been a long time coming). And they said Speak Now! (It's been a long time coming), into folklore, (It's been a long time coming), I’m Taylor! And I was born in 1989! (It's been a long time coming), evermore (It's been a long time coming), loving him was Red, (It's been a long time coming but...)

As the Lover House was shown on the big screen, people were walking out a door with the colours of Lover on big upside-down capes. That was the only way Penelope could explain them as they walked along the stage.

"It's been a long time coming but, it's you and me. That's my whole world!" When they lifted the sheets - there she was the one and only Taylor Swift.

Penelope's eyes widened. She looked over her shoulder to look at the eldest Bridgerton. "Anthony, you are my favourite! I know I've already told but it deserved to be said again."

Anthony smiled down at Penelope as she started dancing in the aisle in front.

"She's so happy," Kate looked up at her husband and caught his smile. "You old softie."

The whole school is rolling fake dice. You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes. Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince, we're so sad, we paint the town blue. Voted most likely to run away with you.

Before Penelope even knew what was going on, the notes from Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince turned into Cruel Summer.

"Fever dream high in the quiet of the night, you know that I caught it. Bad bad boy, shiny toy, with a price. You know that I bought it. Killing me slow, out the window, I'm always waiting for you to be waiting below. Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes, what doesn't kill you, makes me want you more."

Colin watches from his spot on the row above as Penelope started to sing from the top of her lungs. Dancing in her spot, a large smile on her face.

Francesca looked over at Colin. "What's with your face?"

"Nothing is wrong with my face, thank you very much!"

"Mhmm."

Cruel Summer was followed by The Man and You Need to Calm Down, which Gregory knew both of - the pair sitting in the front row singing as loud as their lungs allowed them.

"Welcome to the Eras Tour!" Taylor announced, then she sang the third single from her seventh studio album of the same name, Lover .

"We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til January, and this is our place, we make the rules. And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you dear, have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years? Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close forever and ever? And ah, take me out, and take me home, you're my, my, my, my. Lover."

When Lover was first released in 2019, there was so much more love and happiness as she sang it, but now she was singing it for her fans.

And the final song was The Archer , which had a chance to send both Penelope and Violet Bridgerton to tears.

"I've been the archer, I've been the prey. Screaming, who could ever leave me, darling? But who could stay? I see right through me, I see right through me. 'Cause they see right through me, they see right through me, they see right through."

And with the final song, Taylor Swift disappeared and she completed Act 1: Lover.

[ao3feed-kathony]

A Most Bountiful Season

read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/56989567 by MariachiMermaid England, 1815. A new year and a new social season. Young ladies from all over the ton will flock yet again for one purpose; finding a husband. Francesca Brigerton is freshly 18 and ready to settle for someone tolerable. Practical and even-keeled, she does not expect to meet a love-match like her siblings before her. Penelope Featherington is not keen on entering spinsterhood just to live at the whims of one of her sisters. Stretched between a still kicking crush on Colin, a broken friendship with Eloise, and her ever contentious secret identity as Lady Whistledown, her future happiness depends entirely on how well she can play the balancing game. Eloise Bridgerton is less than pleased to be entering her second social season. Left reeling from Penelope's scathing pamphlets as Lady Whistledown, she resigns herself to playing nice, if just for the season. Her new friendship with Cressida Cowper leads her to see her fellow ladies of the ton in a new light as Eloise tries find herself amidst the ballrooms she feel so out of place in. Let's face it, season 3 was a disappointment for pretty much everyone. So I'm rewriting it, and filling in the many gaps and plot-holes that left us questioning Words: 3879, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Bridgerton (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M, Gen Characters: Eloise Bridgerton, Penelope Featherington, Cressida Cowper, Colin Bridgerton, Theo Sharpe, Anthony Bridgerton, Kate Sheffield | Kate Sharma, Benedict Bridgerton, Gregory Bridgerton, Hyacinth Bridgerton, Violet Bridgerton, Prudence Featherington, Phillipa Featherington, Agatha Danbury, Portia Featherington, John Stirling I, Michaela Stirling, Alfred Debling, Charlotte zu Mecklenburg-Strelitz | Charlotte Queen of the United Kingdom Relationships: Eloise Bridgerton/Theo Sharpe, Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington, Eloise Bridgerton & Cressida Cowper, Eloise Bridgerton & Penelope Featherington, Francesca Bridgerton/John Stirling I, Francesca Bridgerton/Michaela Stirling, Anthony Bridgerton/Kate Sheffield | Kate Sharma, Eloise Bridgerton & Kate Sheffield | Kate Sharma, Benedict Bridgerton & Eloise Bridgerton Additional Tags: Season 3 rewrite, because this season pissed me off, Canon Rewrite, Fix-It of Sorts, Friends to Lovers, Reconciliation, Canon Universe, Eloise Bridgerton and Penelope Featherington Reconciliation, Arranged Marriage, Cressida Cowper Redemption, Secret Crush, Eloise's love language is books, Secret Relationship, Forbidden Love, you know I'm bringing Theo back, Pining, Mutual Pining, Marriage of Convenience, Regency Romance, ngl Eloise is really playing matchmaker in this one, Cressida Cowper deserves better, my girls eloise and penelope deserved better writing, theres no pen bashing but I am critical of her actions read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/56989567

[iliveiloveiwrite]

I wonder what it’s like to be loved by you // Benedict Bridgerton

Summary: You’ve loved him for as long as you can remember. Is this the season where he finally realises?

A/N: I LOVE BENEDICT. I love him so much. What do I have to do to get a Benedict? Title is from Shawn Mendes - Wonder. I had so much fun writing this fic, I can’t wait to write more for the Bridgerton fandom! I truly hope you all like it, let me know what you think please?

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, mentions of food and drink, fluff, pining, mutual pining, dancing, balls, obliviousness, friends to lovers, she/her pronouns, a lot of history - I am a historian after all and this is the regency era.

Word count: 4.8k

Lady Danbury never spared any expense on the balls she held every season. She knew full well that many a match could be made that night so there was not only pressure from the ton, but also a responsibility that this ball must outdo all others thrown before – by herself and other matriarchs in society.

A feat she always managed to achieve, the elder thinks to herself as she watches your eyes widen upon entering the ornately decorated room. Looking you up and down, she approves of your outfit – a dark blue dress punctuated with silver jewellery, hair twisted into an updo with only a few strands hanging loose to frame your face. From her spot across the ballroom, Lady Danbury wonders how you hadn’t married yet.

As the band strikes up, Lady Danbury walks into the fray, greeting her guests with a smile. All the while, she keeps a trained eye on you, wondering who on earth had captured your heart but had not noticed.

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

No matter how hard he tried, the charcoal would not wash from his fingers. Having scrubbed and scrubbed at his hands, Benedict could only offer you a smile of apology as you not only noted his lateness but the state of his hands.

“It’s very fortunate that you are a talented artist,” You comment with a teasing smile.

Benedict reaches for your hand, dropping a kiss to the back of it before answering. “I class myself as very fortunate to have a friend like you who understands how easy it is to get lost in a sketch or a painting.”

You roll your eyes, careful not to let anyone else but Benedict see your act of impropriety. He smirks, unable to help himself.

“You’re a shameful flatterer, Benedict.”

“Some might even call me a ‘rake’,” He replies, his tone teasing.

“I shall save that for when you’ve really annoyed me.”

He laughs; a loud chuckle that draws the attention of those closest to you. Most notably, Benedict’s mother, Violet Bridgerton and Lady Danbury.

Benedict clears his throat; cheeks flushed not only from the attention but from the knowledge that his mother would soon be making her way over to him. He adored his mother; was grateful for her every day, but he could happily admit he could live without the meddling in his love life. He grabs your gloved hand once more; kissing the back of it in parting before asking, “Save me a dance on your card?”

“Always,” You answer, watching his back as he stalks away. Benedict narrowly avoids being collared by his mother, an act to which you find yourself smiling at.

With thoughts of Benedict in mind, you wander around the outskirts of the ballroom, your dark blue skirts swishing pleasantly under foot. You pause only to grab a lemonade from the table, sipping happily at the cold drink.

You catch sight of the brunette that had stolen your heart dancing with Penelope Featherington and though you know there is no romance there, your heart is unable to stop the hurt that lashes through it. Schooling your face into a mask of polite delight, you force yourself to turn away from the sight of the man you had so readily given your heart to dancing with someone else.

“How long have you been in love with my brother?” A raspy voice asks from behind you.

Your lemonade splashes slightly as you turn to face your interrogator. “Eloise!” You laugh, smiling too wide to be comfortable, “Whatever do you mean?”

Eloise’s shrewd blue eyes narrow slightly as she takes in your dismissal. She waves her hand in the general direction of Benedict though you knew exactly where he was – could feel his location thrumming in your veins.

“Don’t play coy, (Y/N). It doesn’t become you. Now, how long have you been in love with Benedict?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? How long had you loved Benedict? Thinking back on it, you’re sure that you’ve always loved him. Your family had been good friends with the Bridgerton family for as long as you could remember. Your mother was always having tea with Violet and you were always thrust upon the eight siblings without much worry. Your friendship with Benedict had started in earnest when you had complimented his art skills, bringing up how you liked to draw too. From there, a close friendship was forged.

By your twentieth year on this earth, you realised that your feelings for the second Bridgerton were no longer platonic… that you craved something more. Falling for Benedict Bridgerton felt inevitable almost; that your heart was destined to be his whether he knew it or not.

Sighing heavily, you see no point in lying to the second eldest Bridgerton girl. “For as long as I can remember,” You admit, rushing to add on, “But he doesn’t know so please don’t tell him!”

Eloise’s eyes widen at your confession, not only shocked that you readily admitted your feelings for her elder brother, but for how long you have harboured them. “Is that why you have not yet married?” She demands, “Because you loved him?”

Biting your lip, you nod. “It wouldn’t be fair to my husband. Their wife in love with another man – it doesn’t exactly set stable foundations for a long, prosperous marriage and…”

“And…” Eloise prompts, her innate curiosity getting the better of her. If her mother could hear her now, she would surely receive a scolding.

You ball your hands into fists before letting them drop to your sides; letting them hang there like the constant hope you have for Benedict.

“And I still hope he’ll notice I’m here. That I have been here all along,” You voice cracks on the admission causing a pang of upset to flash through Eloise. She’d reach out to comfort you, but it would only draw attention from the many mothers circling and no doubt, Lady Whistledown.

“(Y/N)…” Eloise begins but you hold a single hand up to stop her before she starts. With a strained smile, you reassure her. “It’s fine, Eloise. I accept it with every season that passes that it is unlikely he shall ever return my feelings.”

“Then he is a fool,” Eloise states plaining, sending a glare in the direction of her beloved brother. She had no qualms admitting that Benedict was indeed her favourite sibling, but he had his moments where he vexed her beyond belief.

“Who is a fool?” A voice questions to the right of you. Benedict.

Freezing in place, you cast a helpless look at Eloise, begging her silently to take control of this situation. Eloise smiles and nods imperceptibly. She turns towards her brother, hooking her arm through yours as she declares, “The men that have not offered their hand to (Y/N) yet. They’re all fools, aren’t they dear brother.”

Benedict casts his gaze towards you; his eyes scanning your face for what, he does not know. “Fools,” He agrees quietly though he is heard perfectly over the music. “Would you care to dance?” He asks, wanting you to himself for a little while. As much as he loved his younger sister, she was a keen observer, and he wasn’t ready for her to figure out his feelings just yet. Not when he hadn’t admitted them to you.

Nodding your head, you take his outstretched hand, bidding goodbye to Eloise for now. The brunette shakes her head as the both of you walk away. Oblivious, she thinks to herself, completely oblivious.

As the music strikes up once more, it becomes obvious that the next dance is a waltz, requiring the closeness of your partner. It was only years ago that this dance had scandalised the ton for its closeness – now, it was required at every ball, many married couples savouring the intimacy.

Benedict’s hand settles on the small of your back as his other grips your hand. Your hand rests comfortably on his shoulder as he begins to lead you through the steps you have known since your youth.

Music around you fades as do the other couples. The only two people in the room are Benedict and yourself. The feel of his hand on your back and the look in his eyes; it’s enough to have you accept your fate then and there. It’s enough for you to admit that you have been ruined for any and all men; finding yourself in love with the man who holds you so tenderly and has always held you in high regard. Is this it? You ask yourself, is this what it feels like to be loved by him? To feel like the only one in the world. If it is, you’ll take it with open hands.

Your eyes do not leave his as Benedict leads you through the rises and falls of the dance. His hand remains a steady presence on your lower back; the feeling just enough to distract you from the crowd now watching you and instead, leading you to wonder what his hands would feel like elsewhere on your body.

As the music falls into another song; this one more upbeat, Benedict drops his hands, letting you free. He hadn’t wanted to; had wanted to pull you from the ballroom, to confess the feelings that have haunted him for years and to ask you to be his for better or for worse.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he bows and smiles, reaches for your hand to kiss it and then lets himself breathe as he turns and walks away.

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

Dear Reader,

Though there is much to report from Lady Danbury’s ball last night – the fashion, the food, the décor – This Author wants to focus on one moment in particular.

Now, Dear Reader, whilst you may wonder the importance of such a moment, remember that it is one’s job to observe all. That is why I want to bring attention to Mr. Benedict Bridgerton who found himself extremely popular last night, dancing with many eligible women and delighting them with his talents.

However, Dear Reader, this is not the moment I want to focus on.

No. Instead, I want to bring attention to the heart most likely suffering in silence as Mr. Bridgerton continues to charm the ton.

As you all know, I am not one to beat around the proverbial bush and hide identities, but for the sake of the woman who has found herself in love with the second eldest Bridgerton for as long she can remember, I shall endeavour to keep her name a secret.

Know, however, that This Author’s sympathies lie with you.

To love another unrequitedly is a dear shame.

----------

The gossip sheet is scrunched to a ball in your hands. It’s all you can do to keep the tears from falling down your face. As if you didn’t know your love was unrequited; as if you didn’t know you had all but doomed yourself to being a spinster as you wait for a man who did not know you loved him.

Lady Whistledown knew your secret, and your identity. As a result, the whole ton knew your secret but whatever morals the author possesses, she had not revealed your identity.

Summoning the carriage, you ask to be taken to Bridgerton House where you can speak to Eloise in confidence and ask for her advice on what she might do. Deep down, you had to know whether Benedict had read the paper too.

It doesn’t take long for Eloise to find you in the tea room; a cup of tea in your hands but readily ignored as you chew on the inside of your cheek. Her brown hair tied up in her usual bun, her eyes hold the pity you didn’t want to see or hear as of this moment.

“I didn’t know she was listening, I swear,” Eloise promises, sitting by your side and reaching for your hand.

“I know,” You comfort, “You would never tell a soul.”

“At least she didn’t reveal your identity,” Eloise chirps, trying to find a silver lining.

“Yet she has revealed my secret to the entirety of London society,” You sigh. Removing your hand from Eloise’s, you press your palm to your forehead, feeling overwhelmingly tired and desperate for the day to be over already. “Does he know?”

Eloise chews on her bottom lip, deciding whether to answer you. “He has read it,” She admits,  but rushes to add, “He doesn’t know it’s you! He doesn’t have a clue really. He’s angrier at himself for not noticing anything was amiss.”

“I don’t know what to do,” You whisper, feeling helpless.

“For now,” Eloise states, “We do nothing.”

---------

Your heels sink into the soft carpet as you wander down the stairs, pausing only to check you have everything. Your mind remains elsewhere as you check your bag out of habit, the conversation with Eloise, the latest gossip sheet, your feelings for Benedict. They circle around your mind, leaving you dizzy in their wake as you try to make sense of them all, try to find your next step in and amongst the mess.

“(Y/N),” Benedict greets, hurrying down the final few stairs, pleasantly surprised, “What are you doing here? I didn’t know you were visiting.”

“I came to drop in on Eloise. I wanted to thank her for last night; she was an ear when I needed someone to listen.”

“Is it anything I can help with?” He asks, voice taking on a concerned note as he reaches out for you.

You shake your head, squeezing his hand in return. “For now, everything is okay.”

Benedict clears his throat. “I’m glad to hear it, but please come to me next time. I want to help if I can.”

“I will,” You promise, your eyes now scanning over his fine clothes. “Where are you off to?”

“An art exhibition at Somerset House. They’re showing some Holbein’s from the Royal collection.”

“Holbein’s?” You ask, shocked at the name falling from Benedict’s mouth.

He nods, just as excited. It was a rare thing indeed to have Holbein’s on display; they were usually kept in whatever royal residence they found themselves in; hidden away from the public eye. Art was the very foundation of your friendship; having seen so many of his sketches as a young boy and watching them develop into surer lines and confident strokes. Benedict was an exceptionally talented artist – something he would say about yourself. Benedict was the only person to see such work; the watercolours in your sketchpad leaving him breathless as you bring life to the inanimate.

“Would you like to join me?” He asks before he can talk himself out of it. He had barely seen you all season; you had closed in yourself, as if accepting a fate that you did not want. Benedict would do what he could to ensure your happiness for a little bit longer.

“Unchaperoned?”

A faint blush rises on Benedict’s cheeks as he realises what he has asked of you. “I shall ask Eloise to accompany us,” He suggests, turning to face the direction in which you had just come, “Did she mention any plans to you?”

You shake your head to which Benedict leases a sigh of relief. “I’ll go ask her now. I’m sure she won’t mind… much.”

Laughing quietly, you wait patiently in the entryway of Bridgerton House. The house in London so often felt like a second home to you; spending so much of childhood summers here when your mother would take tea with the Bridgerton matriarch. As you grew into your teens, you would begin to visit the house with just your maid, calling on the family for social niceties. The friendship with Benedict and Eloise only solidified your standing in the close family unit.

Eloise’s voice brings you back to the present. She walks down the stairs, accompanied by her brother. Taking one look at you, waiting patiently for the both of them, Eloise gets a mischievous look in her eye. It isn’t a look that leaves you in comfort, but rather leaves you wondering just what she has planned for the art exhibition.  

“Eloise has so graciously accepted to join us,” Benedict announces, sounding rather pleased with himself.

Eloise smiles: a smile that sets Benedict’s nerves on edge. He would owe her for this, that much he knew. “I would be more than happy to accompany you, brother.”

Benedict resists the urge to groan; he’s in deep shit for this.

“Thank you, Eloise,” You murmur with a smile. Something in Eloise softens at your tone as if she would be unable to deny you this time with Benedict when it was their mother’s mission to see him married off this very season.

“Of course,” Eloise allows, glancing between you and Benedict – noting the longing in both sets of eyes. She shakes her head, gesturing to the door and where the carriages waits just beyond it. “Shall we?”

--------

“He wasn’t a handsome monarch, was he?” Eloise murmurs quietly, staring up at the grand portrait of the fearsome king who preferred executing his wives rather than loving them.

The walls of Somerset House have become dedicated to the eyes of the past. Past monarchs and relatives decorate the walls; their eyes following each attendant, as if curious to see how society is progressing less than three hundred years after the death of the artist.

Benedict chuckles; the very sound raising goosebumps across your skin. You barely repress the shiver the sound elicits. Trying your best to listen as the siblings argue about the reign of this particular monarch – the pros and the cons to what he did for the very country he ruled over for decades.

“Oh!” Eloise gasps, interrupting the argument and loosening her grip on your arm, she waves frantically at Penelope Featherington. “Would you mind terribly if I go say hello?”

“Not at all,” You laugh.

“You’re sure you’ll be okay with Benedict?”

The man in question scoffs, rolling his eyes at his little sister. “Off with you,” He dismisses, “I’ll escort (Y/N) – someone who actually appreciates the art.”

Eloise laughs as she turns away, but you do not miss the wink she sends in your direction. It hits you all at once; her mischievous look before you all left the house. She had concocted this plan in her head; accepting to accompany you as a rouse to get you and Benedict alone.

You didn’t know whether to appreciate her genius or hide her favourite book.

Jumping at the sound of someone clearing their throat, you focus your attention on Benedict. He watches you with an amused look, and it’s then that you realise that he has stood beside you waiting with his arm out for a minute or so whilst you glared after his younger sister. Taking his arm, you rid yourself of any thoughts of violence against Eloise. Instead, focusing on the man beside you.

“How are you?” You ask, hand resting gently on Benedict’s forearm.

“Do you mean in general or after today’s publication?”

“Both, I suppose.”

“In general, I am quite well. I have a wonderful lady on my arm, and I am in the presence of excellent art work. However, after today’s publication, I must admit I am rather angry.”

“Oh?” You sound, trying hard not to let his words affect you so much but they rattle around your mind on repeat, committing themselves where they will last for an eternity.

“I’ve never been the focus of the gossip paper and now after one ball, I am. I don’t think I like the attention.”

“I don’t believe that for one second, Benedict Bridgerton.”

He pauses, smiling widely down at you. His eyes light up with the smile and your heart begins to pound at the sight of it. “Alright, I do like the attention,” He concedes, “But what I don’t like are the looks I’m getting from all mothers.”

“Why?”

“They all look like I’m about to break their daughter’s heart.”

“I’m sure you’re just imagining things,” You reassure, tightening your grip on his arm.

“I don’t think I am,” He states, nodding politely at Lady Whitelaw who in turn glares at the younger man. He turns his gaze to you as if to say, see?

You turn your face away from him, trying your best to hide the smile and laugh that threatens to break free. “You’re laughing at me, aren’t you?” Benedict guesses, a smile in his own voice.

“I’m not,” You promise, schooling your face into a mask of indifference, focusing on the closest sketch to you. A graphite sketch of Anne Boleyn; marking her beauty only years before her death.

“You are,” Benedict argues, standing beside you, admiring the same sketch. Throwing him a knowing smile, you turn your attentions to rest of the exhibition, unable to hide your awe at just what is being shown to the public.

The art is incredible; your watercolours barely compare to what is being shown in Somerset House. He would disagree in a heartbeat, but Benedict could come close to producing something of this calibre. He had shown his portraits of his mother and brothers; Anthony making the perfect candidate for a painting.

You come to a natural stop in front of a portrait of a young women. A young queen, in fact. This particular queen had never got to reign in the manner that she was capable, dying after giving birth the king’s heir. His one true love, the king had called her after he death.

“She’s beautiful,” You whisper, admiring not only the artistry but also the focus on the painting.

Benedict watches you admiring the portrait painted so carefully by Holbein. Though the portrait is indeed beautiful, Benedict finds himself agreeing that they do not hold a candle to you. As he watches you lift a single hand, trying to dampen the urge to run your fingers over the brush strokes, he thinks to himself that there would be no artist on this earth that would be so talented to capture your beauty.

His breath comes faster; his heart rate increases. He recognises the symptoms; he’s only experienced such signs before. He had been eighteen then; barely a man but man enough to accept that he had fallen in love with his best friend. Years later, here he was, experiencing such feelings once more. Once more, he wonders what it would be like to be loved by you. He cannot help but hope that the mystery woman in the society papers is you.

-------

Dear Reader,

It seems that Mr. Benedict Bridgerton reads my paper!

He was overheard at the Somerset House Holbein exhibition, complaining to Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N) about my last column in which I criticised his treatment of the lady in love with him.

All I have to say on the matter is this:

Mr. Bridgerton, for every complaint you offer, you break her heart further. Stop now before you do irreparable damage.

-----

“What does she mean ‘break her heart further’? I’ve been trying to figure out who it is so I can put a stop to it!”

“It doesn’t matter whether you know who it is, Benedict,” You argue, placing your teacup on the table, “But rather the fact that you unknowingly hurt whoever it is that is in love with you.”

“Do my feelings not matter?” He demands, throwing the damned paper onto the table. Benedict runs a hand through his hair, sighing in frustration. “I’m sorry,” He apologises, “I should not have taken that tone with you. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“You’re forgiven,” You laugh, “I’ve heard you say a lot worse.”

He smiles though it doesn’t reach his eyes. Leaning forward on your chair, you wring your hands together, working up the nerve. “What feelings haven’t they taken into account?”

“Lady Whistledown,” He spits the name with derision, “Hasn’t taken into account that I may not have noticed someone in love with me because I am in love with someone myself.”

It’s as if the chair is pulled out from under you; your stomach dips and flips as the world crashes around you and Benedict is none the wiser. He’s none the wiser to the palpable shift that has taken place. Instead, he’s sat down across from, looking utterly defeated.

“Does she know?” You ask after a moment of silence, using the time to pull yourself back together, to compile it all and put it away for later.

Benedict shakes his head; eyes sad as he watches you. “Why haven’t you told her?” You ask, unable to stop the questions now they’re on the tip of your tongue.

“I suppose for the same reason she hasn’t told me. Fear maybe?”

“Fear of what? I’ve never known you to be afraid of anything.”

“Fear of rejection. Fear of humiliation. Fear of ruining a friendship,” He lists off, counting the reasons on his fingers, holding them up for you to see.

“Have you thought about telling her?”

“All the time,” He answers honestly, and you wonder whether the crack your heart makes was audible to the whole of the ton.

“Do you plan on telling them?”

“Eventually.”

You take a deep breath, staring at the teacup instead of him, readying yourself to offer up your broken heart. To confess that the two most recent society papers have been about you; have shown your heart to the whole of London.

“It’s me,” You confess quietly, voice no louder than a whisper but he hears you all the same.

Benedict’s head whips towards you. Had this been another situation, it would have been funny, but the look on his face… “What?” He whispers, shocked.

“It’s me,” You announce; louder this time, ready to lay your heart out on the floor for him to break entirely. “It’s me, Benedict. Lady Whistledown must have overheard Eloise and myself talking at Lady Danbury’s ball the other night. She had caught me watching you dance and asked me outright. I couldn’t deny it. I’ve been in love with you for years, Benedict. For as long as I can remember.”

“For as long as you can remember?”

You nod, wringing your hands together once more. “I didn’t realise until I turned twenty, just what my feelings meant. I think I’ve always been in love with you, Benedict.”

Benedict remains silent; eyes wide, hands slack as they rest on his thighs. He looks like he doesn't believe the very words leaving your mouth; as if he is unworthy of the love you offer him so willingly. 

“Say something, please,” You plead, “I know it isn’t proper for the woman to announce her feelings for the man, but I couldn’t keep it a secret any longer. Not when it is the focus for Lady Whistledown to sell more copies of her paper.”

“I didn’t know,” He whispers after a prolonged silence.

“You weren’t to know. You don’t have to feel the same, Benedict.”

“I do as it happens.”

“What?”

“I do feel the same,” Benedict clarifies, standing from his chair, “I’ve loved you since I was eighteen.”

You sniffle slightly; emotional from hearing the words you have longed to hear for years. The words that have haunted your dreams; had you rushing from sleep, so you didn’t let yourself believe an alternate reality.

“You do?”

Benedict nods, “I do. I love you very much.”

“I love you too,” You reply, standing from your chair, reaching for him – not wanting anymore space between the two of you.

He dips his head, pausing mere millimetres away from your lips. The question burns in his eyes; desperate to know whether he can kiss you after so long waiting. Your nod is barely imperceptible but it’s nod, nonetheless.

Slowly, almost wanting to savour every moment, Benedict presses his lips to yours. Reaching up, you haul him closer, wanting to feel every inch of him pressed against you after having waited so long, after having dreamed of this moment for too long.

He tastes like tea and his hands bring to life the butterflies in your stomach as they wander the path of your back, settling on your lower back, dipping you slightly. Benedict groans softly at the feel of you lined up against him. If he had known heaven was this close, he would not have waited this long.

Benedict breaks the kiss; not out of need of air, but to stop himself from taking this too far when you feel like heaven pressed against him. You smile widely, kissing his jaw lovingly before starting to laugh lightly. Benedict’s hands on your waist tighten possessively as he joins you in laughter.

Briefly, he wonders whether this is what it feels like to be loved by you.

********

Bridgerton Taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore​ @dreaming-about-fanfictions​ @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown​

[starresky]

Since @moresassythanclassy requested it, here is a modern AU take on Kate and Anthony with the gender roles reversed, with Kate being the one needing to marry out of duty. Not sure if I will continue, so let me know if you would want to read more:

It Feels Like I’ve Won

[AO3 Link]

“Ms. Sharma, we have a problem,” Penelope Featherington said to her boss, Kate Sharma, owner and CEO of BuddyBoxes, the #1 pet treats subscription service worldwide.

“Pen, how many times do I have to remind you? You’re paid to provide me solutions, not problems,” Kate smirked, tapping a pen against her desktop as she looked out at the city skyline from her executive office in the BuddyBox Building.

“Umm, of course, but honestly, I’m a little terrified of how you’ll react to the solution Marketing and PR is proposing.” Penelope held up her planner protectively in front of her as if shielding her from Kate’s impending reaction.

Kate turned in her chair to face Penelope, an eyebrow raised. “I won’t shoot the messenger. Just spit it out.”

Penelope paced back and forth, starting and stopping as she willed herself the confidence to share the bad news. “They want you to get married,” Penelope squeaked out in a rushed breath, her eyes anywhere but looking at Kate.

Kate laughed. A hysterical, cold, wild laugh. “You can’t be serious.”

Penelope flinched. “Puppy Foods, the pet food company we want to collaborate with, is all about family values and the contacts we have at the company have said they’ve been hesitant to work with us since they don’t think we match their family-friendly image.”

“What?!” Kate hissed. “What is more family friendly than pet treats and accessories? Everyone loves Newton! Kids, parents, old ladies, everyone! Even people who hate pets, love Newton.” Newton was Kate’s cherished dog and the mascot of BuddyBox.

Penelope slowly backed away towards the door. “I’m sorry, I should have been clearer. They love Newton. It’s, um, it’s you.”

Kate’s eyes narrowed. “Me? What about me?”

Penelope held her planner even tighter. “They worry that a single woman with a new man on her arm at every event doesn’t project the, errr, stable, family life they are trying to promote.”

Kate let out a curse. Could everyone just let her live already? She had already sacrificed her entire life for this company, spent years toiling away in school, grit her teeth while being talked down to by all of her father’s associates until she proved through blood, sweat and tears she could do her duty and carry on her father’s legacy by bringing her father’s pet store company into the modern age. What else did they want from her?! Now she was supposed to give up the one thing that gave her any release from the chains around her neck?

Kate pressed her fingers to her head, a migraine starting to burn through her brain. “Fine,” she said, her lips thinned in resignation. “So exactly how quickly do I need to get married? City Hall? Las Vegas? What’s Marketing’s plan here?”

Penelope’s jaw dropped for a moment before she found her voice. “Um, not like that, err, they said it has to look natural. They said they can sell it if you at least start showing up at events with someone that would help you look like you’re planning to settle down seriously.”

“And do they have a husband in mind for me?” Kate sneered. “Or a PowerPoint presentation where I can just pick the man I’ll be shackled to for the rest of my life?”

Penelope bit her bottom lip. “They haven’t gotten that far. Honestly, they didn’t think you would go for it.”

Kate groaned in frustration. “This partnership with Puppy Foods would ensure the company stays on top for years to come. My dad’s company would be thehousehold name he always dreamed it would be. It’s my responsibility to make sure that happens no matter what.”

“It’s your company now, Kate,” Penelope said softly. “What about what you want?“

“Whatever is best for the company is what I want,” Kate insisted. “For my father, and for Edwina and Mary who entrusted me with this company.”

Penelope knew fighting with her stubborn boss and friend would be fruitless. “Okay, then how about I reach out to my friend Eloise? Her sister Daphne knows all the most eligible bachelors looking to settle down, and we can come up with some candidates for you.”

“Daphne Bridgerton?”

Penelope nodded.

“Bridgerton, Bridgerton, Bridgerton . . . “ Kate tapped her lip, searching her brain for why that name was lighting up in her mind. Then she searched through the piles of documents and brochures on her desk from various product partners. Her eyes lit up when she found what she was looking for: the latest issue of a popular business magazine with a tall, dark and handsome gentleman on the cover. She beamed and held up the magazine for Penelope to see, shaking it in victory.

Penelope stared at the cover, her forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Yes, that is Daphne’s older brother on the cover . . . as one of the most eligible bachelors in London.” Penelope’s eyes widened as she realized the meaning behind the headline.

“Exactly! And since you know Daphne you can get his number for me. Actually, just schedule drinks for us this Friday. Yes, this will work perfectly.” Kate’s eyes sparkled with anticipation as the gears turned quickly in her mind. This would be the perfect solution. She could go on a few dates with this Bridgerton bachelor, lock down this deal, and maybe after a short one year marriage of convenience, they could go their separate ways. “If I have to be associated with someone, it might as well be the golden boy of the moment, don’t you think?”

Penelope shook her head, instincts screaming at her that this was a bad idea. “But you don’t even know him. He doesn’t really seem your usual, um, type.”

Kate laughed. “What does it matter? This is business and it’ll all be for show anyway. I’m sure I can charm him into seeing the benefits of being seen with me and how that can help the Bridgerton Group as well. Bridgerton Group may not yet be on our level but they could be with my help. He knows our circles and I’m sure he can be discreet.”

“Are you sure?” Penelope asked, clearly skeptical of the whole idea.

“Yes, set it up. By next week I’ll get him on his knees, and I’ll be Mrs. Sharma-Bridgerton just in time for the ink to dry in our contract with Puppy Foods.”

Despite Kate’s triumphant face, Penelope sighed. She had a bad feeling about this. While she knew Kate was extremely persuasive, what were the chances Benedict Bridgerton would agree to this whole scheme?

And more importantly, what were the chances his protective older brother, Anthony Bridgerton, would allow it?

[newtie-patootie-bootie]

Masquerade (Prologue)

Summary: This is your third season and your aspirations on finding love are dwindling but news on Lady Whistledown’s society pages say that there is to be a foreign royal in attendance to the season. Could this royal dignitary be the one you’ve been waiting for, or could there be a mysterious stranger lurking in the shadows, waiting to pluck your heart for his?

Disclaimer: I do not own Bridgerton nor The Mandalorian- all rights go to the owners and creators of their separate stories.

Warnings: None just yet, enjoy my writing as I lead up to the story!!

|| Please do not repost or plagiarise my work ||

| Chapter 1 |

“Dearest, have you read the newest Lady Whistledown?” Your mother burst into the drawing room with a flurry of her skirts, clutching the article in her fist as you, your brother and your father took in her frazzled form. 

Her eyes were alight with excitement and she was nearly vibrating with delight, “no, Mama. I haven’t.” You answered her, eyebrows pulling together gently and she barrelled forward, slapping the scandal sheet in your hand. 

You abandoned your needlepoint on your lap and opened the reports gingerly, perusing the freshly printed words with increasing distress:

‘In related news to this year’s promising season, my dearest reader- my sources say that a discreet candidate was called on by the Queen herself!

In a show of good faith and generosity to the newly signed trade agreements between the Crown and the elusive, yet breathtaking realm of Mandalore; it seems that this mysterious suitor has touched foot on our verdant lands in search of one of this season’s blossomed flowers to pluck for his own. 

I have heard that this particular aspirant is eager to secure an acceptable match, perhaps with the season’s named Incomparable? 

Or, perhaps there will be a sweet winter blossom that bloomed so richly as she was presented to Her Majesty, the Queen for her third season. Could the magnificent daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Wintere snatch such a lucrative title from Miss Daphne Bridgerton?

I so do adore a good rivalry between two influential families and as such, I would like to express my most exuberant notions of good fortunes to each family and may the best woman win.

This intrepid author would also like to disclose that there should be a number of severe competitors at the Danbury Ball this evening- and even worse, bloodthirsty mama’s charging forward with energetic hopes to secure the prospects of such an exceptional suitor.

After all, it is not everyday you are offered the chance to become a Queen.’

“She has named our dearest daughter a ‘winter blossom’, no doubt in reference to our family crest, darling!” Thomas’ eyebrows lifted at the high praise and yes, it was true. The family crest consisted of blooming hellebores and a snowy owl taking flight. “She also named our daughter to be a worthy adversary of the season’s Incomparable, Daphne Bridgerton!” Elaine gushed, taking a seat beside her husband and her skirts pooled with the air trapped but she seemed nonplussed as did Thomas who watched her with an adoring smile. “Isn’t that wonderful, darling?” 

“I’d consider that a high honour indeed!” Thomas boasted proudly, raising his teacup to you and a sigh left your lips, ever world-weary. 

“Looks more like a wilted weed to me.” Your brother teased and earned a reproachful stare from your parents, Ryder shrugged off the blistering glare from your mother before turning back to his book. 

“Mama,” you implored, the paper crinkling in your tight grip, “do not put any stock into Whistledown’s scribblings- she has a tendency to exaggerate and her words incite challenge when there is no need for it.” You scoffed, tossing the offending scrap on the plush cushion beside you, “she has surely just made Daphne and I targets for the 200 other girls for the entire season!” 

Ryder stood from his place across the room and moved closer, snatching the crinkled sheet from the pillow and plopped himself down, taking in its contents for himself, “Cressida Cowper is going to eat you alive, dearest sister.”

“Please do not remind me of Cressida Cowper, do I not appear distressed enough for you to cease your mistimed jibes, brother?” Your tone heightened, echoing somewhat in the drawing room.

Ryder’s smirk softened into a worried frown and took your hand in his in a soothing fashion, soft thumb massaging the space between your knuckles, “apologies, sweet sister. I only wished to make light of your situation for your own piece of mind.” 

Sighing, you whispered your own apology at your sudden snap and you hummed softly in thought before a mischievous grin curled against your lips, “if anyone should feel concerned about Cressida Cowper’s intentions, I would think you to be more perturbed than I, older brother. The heir to the Duke of Wintere, a monumental promise of success to any willing debutante, I’m certain.” Ryder shuddered at the thought of the ill-mannered girl setting gladiatorial eyes on him and the notion of the high prospects he would bring to the mart. Immediately abandoning your hand, he burrowed himself deeper into the seat beside you and flicked the sheet out dramatically.

It was an indiscreet attempt to occupy his mind elsewhere as he kept his eyes firmly on the black print, yet he took not one word of the information in.

“Darling, this is good.” Your mother’s voice gently eased you from you and your brother’s banter as she reached forward and took your hand in hers, “this means that suitors will now take notice of you, and if this king hears word of your beauty in Whistledown’s musings, then I believe we should all be thankful to the woman, do you not agree?”

Your fingers curled around hers but your eyes remained downcast at your half-sewn needlepoint and you sighed softly, “I don’t see the need for such articles to be published. There will be enough dramatics to satisfy the weak-minded all season.” 

“Your mother and I only want what is best for you, little owlet.” Your eyes raised to meet Thomas’, his gaze warm, tone loving as he levelled you with an adoring smile, “if it eases your mind, I have come across some news of this new ruler during my time at the club. I have heard he is just and fair. An honourable gentleman if somewhat mysterious as Lady Whistledown reports. You have nothing to lose by dazzling him with your grace and charm- but you have everything to gain if you succeed in wooing him. You have no need for tricks or deception to win the attention of any suitor, for you are perfect just the way you are.” Tears blurred your vision, threatening to slip down your cheeks. Your frown turned into a watery smile as your father placed his warm, large hand over you and your mothers, “and I shall be there to protect you and only agree to a match deserving of a jewel such as yourself.” 

You sniffled back the forming tears before smiling warmly, “thank you, Papa.” 

“There is no need for gratitude, dearest. This is a father’s duty; one I aim to fulfill to the highest regard-” Your father’s words were cut short as one of the servants walked into the drawing room.

“Your dresses have arrived, Your Grace, my Lady.”

“Ooh!” Elaine shot up from her seat, clapping in excitement before grabbing your hand and hauling you upstairs to your room, “we must find the perfect gown for tonight’s fete!” 

Your sputtering and half formed protests carried down the hallway as Thomas opened the newspaper that had been sitting untouched in his lap, chuckling indulgently, “ever the child, your mother.” 

Ryder shook his head in amusement, a smile curling his lips.

"Have you read the newest Whistledown? Foreign royalty searching for a suitable bride? I suspect this season will turn out to be exemplary.” 

"I heard that this King's treasury is one to rival the Crown itself."

"I heard he has a son, yet there is no mother that has come forward to claim the child. A most scandalous affair, indeed!"

"I heard that their land is rich in minerals. Some type of iron that is nigh indestructible! I'd wager it'd fetch a high price."

"Daphne Bridgerton locked in a violent competition with the Duke and Duchess of Wintere’s daughter? How delicious."

"I have never heard of this Mandalore, is it near Scotland?"

You were barely able to contain your ire for the gossiping hounds polluting the air of the ballroom. 

Your jaw ticked imperceptibly and you fought the urge to roll your eyes so hard you would be able to see the back of your head.

Their whispers were anything but that as you walked past each intrusive mama and daughter as they revelled in the rumors etched in the latest scandal sheet authored by Lady Whistledown, containing information of a supposed king attending the ball. 

Your eyes scanned the ballroom and made contact with the youngest Featherington- carving a path for her, her rounded figure swathed in a bright, eye-catching yellow gown that suited her complexion and figure little, yellow beads and jewels glittering in the lights overhead.

You caught her eye and her shy demeanor slipped somewhat as she smiled, excited to see a familiar face and you curled your arm through hers and locked them together, “why have I not seen you on the dance floor, Miss Featherington?” You asked and Penelope sighed. 

“I am just admiring the view, Lady Dalton,” you raise one brow at the title and her tiny frown curled into an indulgent smile as she corrected herself and called you by your given name, “you seem to have taken the room by storm when you joined the dance floor, every bachelor here has his eyes on you and Daphne tonight. I would think many of the suitors here are bursting at the seams for your hand- and it is your third season as well.” 

“No doubt to Lady Whistledown’s meddling, I’d wager. I have already entertained enough male suitors tonight. I shall take my leave of them for the time being,” your tone changed to a slight whine which served to incite Penelope’s rich giggles, “have you taken your turn about the room?” 

“I’m afraid I am not as carefully provided for as you, my Lady. Father has decided to forego these events and my mama is not quite so attuned to my aspirations to ensure a well-rounded tour.” 

“Well, then, allow me, Miss Featherington.” You hummed politely, smiling brilliantly at the shy girl who returned the gesture just as brightly and you led the way about the hall. Nodding your head politely to every suitor that greeted you, you curled closer to Penelope, “I see your mother is surveying the hall with Lady Cowper and Lady Edgecomb.” Penelope’s world-weary exhale betrayed her true thoughts and you ran a soothing line along the back of her hand with your thumb, “the determination of rumormongers is indeed boundless, are they not? Perhaps, we shall next be blessed with the sight of them suspended from the rafters with ear trumpets to survey even the most meagre pieces of gossip.” Penelope giggled, covering her mouth with her hand daintily as she did so, bowing her head. 

“Ah,” Anthony Bridgerton exclaimed, his arm encircled with Daphne’s as they stepped in front of you, “Miss Featherington, Lady Dalton.” 

“Penelope,” Daphne spoke your names warmly, her bright smile widening as she curtseyed perfectly.

“Lord Bridgerton, Daphne.” You and Penelope greeted in unison, curtseying elegantly though you felt your arm tense as Penelope teetered on her feet in an attempt to keep her balance. You rose rather quickly to save her any embarrassment, “how fares the hunt, Daphne? Many of the most eligible suitors have presented themselves at this fete, don’t you agree?”

“Oh yes, my Lady.” Anthony spoke over his sister, answering for her. “Quite a well-rounded affair. Why, I can count every worthy bachelor on each finger of my left hand.” Daphne stared at her brother, aghast but your tinkling laughter could not be hidden with a well-placed hand over your mouth.

“I could only hope that you could spare a finger for my own brother, my Lord? Is he not worthy of your high praise? I would hate to inform my father of this scandalous news!” You teased slyly, a sparkle of mischief in your eyes as Anthony chuckled.

“Of course, my lady. Ryder Dalton, heir to the title Duke of Wintere is honest and true. A man worthy of the title he will one day inherit.” You bowed your head gracefully at the praise.

“Did you read the latest entry of Lady Whistledown’s scandal sheet?” Daphne asked, head inclined slightly in question and your lip curled in irritation, earlier humor forgotten.

“Unfortunately, dearest Daphne. What does this author hope to accomplish by sowing dissension among peers? It is only going to be harder for us if we are to be locked in this invented rivalry until the season ends. Not to mention that all other 200 fine young women will see us as common adversaries to quarrel for a desirable bachelor.” You shook your head and sighed wistfully.

“Perhaps, Lady Whistledown’s sources were incorrect in their counsel. I have yet to see a comely King from a foreign land in our midst.” Daphne teased and you chuckled, nodding as you looked about the room but gazed over no fanfare nor buzzing enthusiasm.

“Nor a royal guard. What do you think, Penelope?” You hummed and the young woman beside you almost wiggled with excitement to be counted.

“I believe that Lady Whistledown is breeding a development early in the season to incite challenge.” You voiced a wordless agreement and Penelope continued, her fingers still clinging to yours, “Her Majesty is one to be enthralled and I would think that the public invitation to this monarch of Mandalore is an attempt to bring about said excitement.” Penelope’s curls bounced around her rounded face as she spoke and you took her words in with great thought. 

“A compelling view, if I ever heard!” Anthony complimented and Penelope bowed at Anthony’s flattery, “if you ladies will excuse us, we still must take our view of the room.” 

“Ah, we shall keep you no longer! Happy hunting, my Lord. Good luck, Daphne.” You sympathised genuinely and Daphne huffed in agreement as her brother pulled her away. “That was excellent, Penelope. Sharp wit, indeed!” 

Your words were met with sweet giggles from your friend as you continued your turn about the room, dance cards dangling delicately from your gloved wrists in and quizzed Penelope on the memory of her miniatures, impressed with her skill to point out each suitor with ease.

Once Penelope tired of walking, she took her rest by the edge of the dance floor and you bid her luck before striding to the refreshments table in search of a beverage to quench your thirst.

Your eyes remained locked on the small glasses of lemonade, unbothered with taking care in your surroundings- you were shocked to feel someone knock into you rather forcefully. You stumbled, unable to right yourself and you could feel your traitorous feet tangle around each other. 

Time seemed to slow to a complete stop, though your mind ran freely and aware. A frisson of fear crackled down your spine at the premature embarrassment of the predicament you were just about to drop yourself in just as you felt strong hands slip against your back, righting you almost as quickly as your legs betrayed you. 

“Oh, goodness, please do excuse my-” your apology trailed off into stunned silence as you took in the unfamiliar man you could call your savior. This stranger that had his arms around you in a most improper fashion and you know you should untangle yourself from his touch immediately but the heat of his large, ungloved hands bled into the exquisite material of your gown, through your corset and seared directly into the flesh of your arched back.

His clothing was much the same of every suitor attending, nothing unique or flamboyant to stand out amongst the countless other candidates. The slight crinkles in his suit brought an air of indifference- as if he cared little for the state of his dress. What persuaded you to fully take in his form, was his sun kissed, bronze skin that shone deep in the synthetic light of the chandelier accompanied by the ornate lights mounted on the wall; so striking and different from the many men that boasted pale complexions and youth.

You could see the ruggedness in the etchings in his skin, the lines that betrayed his advanced age compared to the others in attendance. The hair atop his head was rich and dark with slight streaks of gray, airy soft curls that adorned his head like a crown, wild and untamed. The same dark hair that graced his head, also carved around his jawline and upper lip, small patches of hair scarce in some places- so unlike the pronounced fashions in high society and you found yourself preferring the unkemptness. His eyes were a harsh change from the softness of his hair, striking and bold. They glittered like dark gems in the gentle lights as he perused your features, intelligent yet curious as he took you in with a cool countenance and thick brows pulled together in an expression of concern.

A prominent nose curved down with a hooked slope, rather large but it suited him and you fought the urge to caress the curved bridge with your fingertip. Pink lips parted, thin but pillowy as the tip of a red tongue slipped between to hydrate the slightly chapped flesh. 

It set him apart from the rest, a beauty you so desperately wished to explore.

Just as you studied this unfamiliar man, he also took your form in. 

His gaze was not leering like many of the bachelors loitering about the room- nor a lecherous grin curved those sinfully soft lips as he drank in your appearance with ease, noting every detail and micro expression with rapid ease and forced himself to cease the ever growing notion to tighten his arms around you, drag you closer to his chest when he felt the way your body curled into his touch, seeking the warmth he provided on a subconscious level. 

Clearing his throat softly, he righted you on your feet and took a step back, bowing at the waist and a soft curl slipped in front of his handsome features, concealing his left eye, “forgive my impropriety, my Lady,” his voice was deep, rasped and foreign and those same lips curled around each word with an elegance none of the men here could hope to match, “my intentions were pure, I assure you. I did not mean-” 

“-t-the apologies are mine, my Lord. I did not see you.” You cut off his apology, your usual confidence abandoning you and curtseyed softly before you both straightened in tandem, “please accept my most sincere apologies.” 

“Only if you accept mine, my Lady, as I was the one to knock you.” This man raised his eyes to meet yours, a small smile playing on his lips at your stunned expression. 

Realising how unladylike you seemed, you quickly smoothed your expression into a serene smile and bowed your head gently, “well then, I accept your apology, my Lord.” 

“And now, I shall receive yours.” He bowed once again, though his eyes never once strayed from yours, his hand coming to brush back the curl that slipped in front of his face, freeing his eye from the obstacle. “Quite an affair, is it not?”

You turned to look upon the room and the dozens of bodies packed in the lavish ball and the bodies moving in rhythmic synchronisation as they flounced around the dancefloor, skirts billowing and waistcoats whipping. “Yes, my Lord. It is certainly a promising fete.” You ripped your gaze from the dancers and you looked back to the mysterious suitor that you know for a fact his profile has never graced your miniatures. “I do not believe I have had the pleasure, my Lord.” You introduced yourself and he bowed his head in a nod to your status. 

“Din Djarin, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my Lady.”

You did not miss the way he left out his title, not many men did. It was refreshing to meet someone unbothered by status and titles. You smiled brilliantly and for a moment, he had trouble remembering how to breathe. 

How did people do this?

“What brings you to London, Lord Djarin? I do not believe I have seen you here.” You certainly couldn’t recall seeing those mesmerizing, yet prominent features etched in your miniatures.

“I’m in town for business, mostly- but I thought I would attempt to join the fray of finding a beautiful woman to make my bride.” Din’s eyes found yours when his lips curved out the word ‘beautiful’. You could feel your cheeks heat and quickly brought the tiny glass to your lips and took a long draught- almost emptying the glass entirely. It was unseemly on your part but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care, you needed to soothe your drying throat and tame the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“And what better place to be than a cotillion for ambitious debutants who are searching for the perfect match?” Betraying your inner emotions, you struck up kind conversation, performing an air of confidence and strengthened your resolve. A wide smile stretched his lips, revealing perfect, straight teeth and the act of a simple smile brightened his features. Your heart slammed against your ribcage in response, your steely courage cracking in half with little to no effort.

He took a sip of his own lemonade just as a pair of gossiping mama’s walked past you both, talking loud enough for you to overhear their conversation with minimal exertion- if any, “and where, pray tell, is this so-called king?"

"Perhaps, Whistledown's sources were wrong. You can never trust a scandal sheet these days, I wouldn't be surprised if he turned out to be a charlatan." 

You swallowed the sigh you desperately craved to release and inwardly shook yourself free from the coils of irritation that started to constrict around you before turning your attention back to the mysterious lord, only to notice his eyes were following the rumormongers and you helped yourself to a portioned sip of lemonade in an endeavor to quell the heat burning within you. A certain dark fire heated his gaze, stoking a reaction in you. Something deep and primal you had never experienced before and you suppressed a shudder at the ferocity clearly displayed in those deep, dark eyes.

“What are your thoughts on this foreign monarch, my Lord?” You barely managed to choke out, Din’s eyes snapped back to you as your question hung in the air and you swallowed subtly as his piercing gaze burned through yours.

“My thoughts?” He rasped, shifting on his feet in a show of subtle anxiousness. His earlier fire dissipating and awkward trepidation took the forefront.

“What do you make of the rumors surrounding the arrival of a ruler of a distant land coming to London to participate in the season?” You tilted your head in innocent curiosity, “surely, you have heard of this mysterious King hailing from his distant realm?”

“Rumor articles and gossip do not interest me, but yes, I am familiar with the topic you wish to discuss.” His smile twisted his lips into a forced stretch- barely passing for genuine and you weren’t sure as to why he seemed so uncomfortable when just moments earlier he was quite at ease conversing with you.

“And what do you make of his scarcity when his arrival was rumored to be a most certain guarantee? I should think the King would be thankful for not attending. Overbearing mothers and their equally simpering daughters have proven to be nuisances at the best of times.”

“Is that so?” Din looked at you, surprise colouring his pleasing features at your unfiltered response, “are you not disappointed that you may not meet this ruler and further your prospects on the mart?” His hand gestured subtly at his side, the barely touched lemonade sloshing dangerously close to the rim, “it would be a high honour to catch the eye of a king, now would it not?”

You chuckled, ducking your head for a moment, reflecting on your answer before opening your lips, “as silly as it may sound, I wish to marry for love.” You raised your hand, noncommittal waving it about, “I realise it will never happen, you do not endure two seasons with silly notions of love intact. I must maintain a status beholden of my title and secure a proper, advantageous match. But I can operate under the illusion of hope, can I not?” Din’s eyes cast down in thought, your words were soft, spoken quietly as if you were afraid another may overhear- whether by accident or on purpose, he could not say.

But the sincerity in your eyes could not be overlooked, the innocent yearning for a future that could very well be out of your reach sparkled against the hues of your irises. 

“Perhaps your aspirations will be met, my Lady.” Din smiled kindly and you hummed in thought, but your brilliant smile was dim. Working up his courage, he set the small glass of his barely touched lemonade on the refreshment table and vaguely gestured to the dancefloor, anxiousness twisting his features almost comically, “w-would you care to dance?”

His hand was large, rough with thick fingers. They were working hands, familiar with hard labour and you shivered imperceptibly at the thought of those hands running down the expanse of your naked flesh. 

You took a few steps forward, maintaining a respectable distance for propriety’s sake. With a smooth movement, you gently leant around him- his eyes never left yours as you placed your glass on the refreshment table beside his.

A gentle scent curled into your nose, blessing your senses with the subtle hints of sweet spices, oak and . . . a touch of gunpowder.

A heady, peculiar scent and it suited its wearer perfectly.

You slid your gloved hand into his, fingers slipping against his palm. The gossamer material caught on the rough skin of his palm and his lips upturned into a grin. “It would be my pleasure, Lord Djarin.” He grinned and you helped him by pointing to the card around your wrist and he made a soft ‘oh’ sound before taking hold of it and let go of your hand to grip the tiny pencil- thick fingers swallowing the dainty stationary and you smiled as he filled the Canon Galop Quadrille with his name in sharp, messy strokes.

“Shall we?” He let the card and pencil drop as his fingers snaked up your wrist slowly, feeling every dip and hollow before clasping your hand gently and leading you to the dance floor. “I must confess, I’m not accustomed to dancing all that much. I pray you forgive me if I fumble.”

You chuckled softly as you joined the other couples on the dancefloor and took your places. You smiled at Din who shuffled in place subtly, waves of anxiety pouring out of him, “I will not judge you, Lord Djarin. You have my most sincere promise and if you have any issues with the steps, I shall guide you. Do not worry.” He looked at you, your soothing tone calming the raging storm of distress inside him and he reciprocated with a smile of his own. 

The music began to play as you curtseyed to the other couples and took your place in front of Din, your hand slipping into his and a strong muscular arm wrapped around your back, large hand splayed across the expanse of your skin and you suppressed another shudder at the addicting heat he emitted. With a gentle nod, the tempo in the set increased and you began to skip about the room with practiced ease.

You gently tilted in a different direction, silently alluding to the next movement and he carried you effortlessly through the throngs of couples, winding around the dancefloor perfectly.

Giggles erupted from your throat, this particular dance always brought out the child within you and Din smiled at the sound, finding that he wished to hear it more often. “I dare say, my Lord, that you move quite well for not being accustomed to this particular dance.”

“I’m rather accustomed to a life outdoors, perhaps it has aided me well.” Din murmured, tightening his hold against your back.

You twisted and twirled around the dancefloor, weaving around bodies and as you separated to complete the next act of the dance, your eyes never left his and the mysterious man seemed more than content to hold your gaze and then you were back in each other’s arms.

“Perhaps, we could discuss the matter of dancing etiquette further, at a more. . private venue?” You asked quietly, alluding for him to call on your home. 

Before he could open his mouth to reply, a loud thump hit the ground and the music paused abruptly and you both stopped, all the guests' gazes swivelled to the ballroom doors as they were thrust open violently.

Gasps and shrieks rippled across the room as two armoured warriors marched forward, spears in hand and their features concealed by unusual helmets, stark colours streaked across the material in a wash of deep reds, browns, yellows and teals along with similarly handprints. A dark- completely opaque visor stretched across their helmets before spanning down, splintering the armour in half.

The curve of their coloured breastplates indicated their feminine physiques, pieces of vibrant painted plates clung to the thick, almost tribal clothing they wore beneath- sharp hues of red and brown adorned their bodies, hems tied tight with pieces of dark leather around their wrists and calves. Fur lined the capes around their shoulders as the thick material flowed to their booted feet, the leather scuffed and worn- creased from years of dedication and physical labor. 

Yet your eyes remained trained on the pure silver spears they held at the sides, pointed ends lifted straight in the air as they slammed the butts of the weapons down against the polished floors in tandem. 

A loud metallic ringing filled the ballroom and harsh bootfalls began to echo. 

Din stiffened in your arms before gently extricating you from his hold, the both of you turning to face the open entrance.

You swallowed harshly as a hulking figure took the space of the doorway, silver armour gleamed in the lights above, clearly displaying the pure gold accents weaved through the chest plate and accompanying pieces- dark clothes thick and concealing any form of skin to be shown, brown gloves worn, flaxen tips stark against the deep colours.

Just like his guards, he was not unarmed. But unlike carrying a spear of his own- you did not miss the pure obsidian claymore sheathed around his back. The hilt was brilliant against the darkness of the blade- made up of what seemed to be the same material that adorned his body. 

His helmet was simple- unlike the tribal colourings of his people, his was silver- notes of gold bled through the seams of the visor, framing it with its simplistic beauty and fur lined his shoulders, gold chain clinking against the silver metal and the crimson cape billowed behind him as he continued with his heavy gait. 

“Is it him? Surely not!”

“I expected a fanfare- yet this is not what I had imagined.”

“Do they dress like this in Mandalore? Will I have to?!”

“Look at them, so primal!”

“Why do they carry weapons? So uncivilised.” 

Whispers filled the hall as the foreign stranger stopped, his helmet scanning the room.

“The twenty-fourth monarch of our sovereign land,” The guards called, demanding silence from all in attendance, “The First of Clan Mudhorn and sole ruler of Manda’yaim. We present our king, the Manda’lor.” Their fists beat against their breastplates as they turned and faced their leader and bent their knee to the floor, heads bowed in respect. “This is the Way.”

The dark visor continued to survey the hall until it stopped-

-directly onto you.

Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes caught your reflection staring back at you from across the room, you could no longer feel Din’s presence beside you. A quiet, rasping voice rang true from beneath the ornate silver helm, so familiar and yet completely unplaceable.

“This is the Way.”

[thekatebridgerton]

Just read your romcom Bridgerton post and holy cow they all seem very spot on. I laughed when I saw Polin in the Made of Honor au. How would the plot of that go (I'd be curious to see which Scotsman Penelope fell for).

Oh a polin made of honor au would be very fun.

But just note that I detest love triangles where the 3rd person gets hurt so that's why in this au our handsome Scotman is Phillip and not Michael. But if you're a person who doesn't mind that the 2nd male lead who is genuinely inlove with heroine and gets his heart unceremoniously broken at his own wedding. Then you should definitely make Michael the guy Penelope is marrying.

Now back to the au

Colin enjoying his life man whoring around for 8 years and trusting that Penelope is only his bestest of friends. Penelope who long gave up on the idea of being more than friends having a buisness trip to Scotland for two months which make Colin realize he literally can't live without her, and wants to date her.

And then when she comes back, just as he's about to tell her he finally figured himself out she... Introduces him to the guy next to her

"Colin, this is Phillip" she points to the most handsome scotman ever "my fiance"

"Phillip I want you to meet Colin, my best friend"

Cue Phillip Crane the husband of every girl dreams introducing himself as Penelope's fiance. Yup, apparently Penelope and Phillip are intellectual soulmates who met at some literary symposium for writers. He writes about plants she writes about people. They're both introverts, they both like the same music and hate the same food. They prefer mountains over cities, would rather read than go to parties, Phillip is practically Penelope in a different font.

And he's convinced that Penelope is the perfect woman for him. So he proposed. Penelope is riding the high of having a handsome smart man so interested in her so she's obviously daydreaming that they'll be happy together.

And she asks Colin to be her maid of honor. Since Eloise refuses to be part of what she calls 'the consumerism of the wedding industry' and would rather ride the wedding wave as a regular bridesmaid with Penelope's sisters.

Enter jealous Colin trying to ruin Penelope's wedding, the Featheringtons + sister husbands (all of them) being over the top, the Cranes being over the top (Phillip's elderly parents, grandparents, maiden aunt, brother, sister in law, and their kids). Colin having to enlist his brothers for help sabotaging Penelope's wedding. Bachelors Benedict and Anthony giving him bad advice that always makes things worse

And of course since Penelope and Phillip's schedule never aligns, Colin goes with Penelope to pick out her wedding dress, wedding lingerie (to sleep with another man! This is torture, pure torture), he picks out the cake with her, the venue, the favors, he helps her write his wedding vows. It's like he's planning his own wedding with her.

But everytime Colin is about to confess his feelings. Someone interrupts or Penelope herself brings up how much Phillip will love everything Colin picked. Because her fiance is so much like her remember. Phillip likes everything Penelope likes.

Colin becomes even more determined to sabotage the wedding and even organizes the most disastrous bachelorette party.

Meanwhile her bridesmaids are having the time of their lives hating him (okay so maybe he did stand up Genevieve for a date, but that was one time he didn't know she was Pen's friend) and watching him make a fool out of himself (Eloise, Kate and Felicity stop laughing dammit)

In the end Colin gets himself banned from the wedding and does this grand gesture where he runs to the chapel to confess his feelings because he can't watch her marry that man. He gives all this heartfelt speech and Penelope can't take it anymore and confesses her feelings too

After Penelope tells Phillip that she can't marry him when she really loves Colin and runs out of the chapel with him. I like to think that the fiance gets a happier less heartbreaking ending in this au. Sort of like the end of Enchanted.

With an after credits scene where Eloise is trying to comfort Phillip with a 'you were just not right for each other, you're too much alike, it's all right Phillip' which turns into an impulsive 'You know what, we can't let all this money my brother spent on the consumerist wedding industry go to waste'

'The situation is kinda hard to fix, unless you want to marry me right now'

'Sure, I'll marry you'

And Phillip goes like 'Really you'd marry a man like me?'

'Yeah what have I got to lose'

'then let's do it'

And the story ends there. With all signs pointing to a sequel that follows the plot of another favorite chaotic rom com of mine 'Wedding Daze'

An: I still think that Penelope's fiance should be Michael, but I feel like in any au if Michael Stirling was serious about liking her, then Penelope would actually fall inlove and ditch Colin

So don't hate me too much for picking the man she's most incompatible with as her fiance.

[sofwrites]

Touching prompt for Anthony and Penelope (friendship) 8 and 13.

I had so much fun writing this!! And I ended up focusing on number 8 here, but I think I'll write 13 (nudging each other) in the future!

Masterlist | Bridgerton blurbs on ao3 | Touching prompts

8: shielding the other with their body

“Your gardener does do a rather excellent job,” Penelope smiled as she leaned down to smell a row of pink roses. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a garden quite so lovely.”

Anthony squinted at her, unable to force a smile in return. Ultimately, he just grunted, “Thank you,” before looking back down at his feet.

Penelope wasn’t quite sure what event in her life had led her to that moment. There she was, Mrs. Penelope Featherington Bridgerton, walking alongside her brother-in-law, the Viscount, Lord Bridgerton.

Well, she supposed she knew what had led to her accompanying him on this walk in particular.

Anthony and Colin had gotten into some sort of row, and both had decided that they were too stubborn to apologize first. Penelope wasn’t sure what exactly they’d fought about- Colin giving the children extra sweets before bed or Anthony boasting about winning a round of cards (or perhaps it was something even more meaningless). Whatever it was, both of their wives were quite certain that it was petty and senseless.

But the two men hadn’t spoken in two days, which is why Penelope and Kate had agreed that it was time to intervene. And after a failed attempt at convincing either of their husbands, they decided to switch their undertakings.

Which is how Penelope had ended up on a walk with Anthony.

“This really isn’t necessary,” he muttered in a voice that was almost a tad whiney, so unlike the usual firmness in his tone.

She smiled, meeting her hands behind her back in the same way his were. “Humor me.”

Anthony glanced at her, eyebrow quirking up just slightly.

They walked in silence for a few moments, looking at the various flowers and foliage around them. And then, breaking the quiet, Penelope let out a soft laugh.

“What’s that?” Anthony asked.

“Oh,” she chuckled. “It’s just that I think we’ve only walked together like this once. Quite a long time ago, actually.”

He looked at her for some seconds, frowning. And then it seemed realization hit him because Lord Anthony Bridgerton gave his own laugh. “I suppose you’re right.”

She grinned at him, leaning over to nudge him just slightly. Anthony had always been someone rather important to her. Long before Penelope had been a Bridgerton (and before she’d ever even thought the notion possible), Anthony had been wonderful to her. All of the family had, of course, but Viscount Bridgerton, older, wiser, and fiercely protective of his family, had at some point decided to extend a similar shelter to her. She wasn’t sure the reason behind it, but it had kept a soft spot in her heart for him. And since her marriage to Colin, he was only more like the older brother she had never had.

“Is this where you and Kate, erm-” Penelope paused for a moment, “decided to get married?” They’d reached a beautiful part of the garden overflowing with multicolored tulips.

Anthony gave her a hard look, but it was weakened by the slight smirk on his lips. “Yes, this is where your mother caught us.”

She gave him a sheepish smile before bending down to take a closer look. “I still think it’s a rather sweet story. At least better than mine and Colin’s.”

Anthony let out a small snort of amusement behind her and Penelope swore she could feel his arms crossing.

After an inspection, she straightened again. “Now, we really must talk about this spat. It’s simply gone on too long and-”

Penelope stopped when she heard a sharp intake of breath, frowning as she turned to look at her brother-in-law. Her eyes widened once she saw him. He looked practically frozen, his entire body stiff as a board as he stood there. His arms and legs were rigid and clamped to him. His lips were pressed so tightly together that they formed a single thin line. The only movement was that of his eyes, which were following something. “Anthony?”

Her voice seemed to bring him back somewhat because immediately he made a sharp, “Shh.”

She blinked at him a few times, absolutely perplexed. She’d never seen Anthony look so- what?

And then she heard it.

A soft buzzing sound rang out in her ears, coming somewhere from the flowers behind her. She looked at Anthony again. He was frightened. Lord Anthony Bridgerton was frightened because he’d seen a bee.

Penelope had learned the details of the late Viscount Bridgerton’s untimely death early into her close friendship with Eloise. She’s been told how a single bee sting had brought the healthy man to his grave, suddenly leaving behind his wife and children.

She’d also learned a few years later about his eldest son’s vicious phobia. Eloise, of course, had been the one to tell her, using it to explain her brother’s odd proposal (if one were to call it that) to Kate.

In all honesty, Penelope had found it hard to believe at the time. It wasn’t that it was unreasonable; she actually found it quite understandable given the circumstances. But it was still practically impossible to imagine that Anthony, the large, authoritarian gentleman that he was, could be that fearful of a tiny, winged creature.

She no longer found it hard to believe.

Immediately after Penelope’s eyes finished her scan of him, she took a purposeful step in front of him and began rapidly swatting until the buzzing had cleared from her ears.

Once the sound disappeared, she rolled her gaze over the flowers around them, carefully inspecting for any movement. There were a few butterflies milling about, but definitely no more bees. Anthony still wasn’t moving, but she could feel his breath steadying behind her.

Wordlessly, Penelope stepped away from him and set forth on their path back to the house. Taking incredibly slow and deliberate steps, she waited until he joined her side again.

Neither of them spoke for a minute, listening only to the sounds of their feet on the ground and the birds in the air. And then, quietly, Penelope asked, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he grunted.

She nodded, biting the inside of her cheek. There was another pause of silence.

“I shouldn’t have reacted that way,” Anthony finally muttered, uncharacteristically holding his gaze on the ground. His voice was smaller than she’d ever heard it. “At the very least, I should have been the one shielding you.”

Penelope gave a sad smile as she looked ahead, taking a moment to sigh. “Anthony, I am your sister, yes?”

He frowned slightly, still not looking at her. “Indeed.”

“Which makes me family, correct?”

He glanced at her with a hint of impatience. “Yes?”

She stopped him with a hand on the forearm and turned to face him. “And families are meant to protect each other. Just as you’ve protected me in the past, I’ve done the same for you. And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.”

He watched her for a moment, entire face hard and unyielding. But then, it softened a bit, his mouth forming a modest, grateful smile. “Thank you.”

She gave him a kind nod before turning back to their path. Walking slowly, they shared a few comfortable, silent moments. Until,

“I promise that I won’t tell anyone. At the request that you reconcile with Colin.”

And with that Anthony groaned. “You’ve definitely spent too much time with my brother. Or my sister. Or perhaps even my wife.”

Penelope laughed and gave him a beaming smile, “I suppose it all comes with being a Bridgerton.”

[sea-owl]

See the Bridgertons did try to keep their promise that if the Jedi Spouses fucked them, they'd behave BUT then they heard the spouses say the words "when they return home" and all bets were off because what do they mean go home??? Like go away?? No more sexy fun times?? THEY'RE DOOMED. THEY WON'T BE ABLE TO SURVIVE THAT

And after the threats are dealt with, the Bridgerton goes to extreme hilarious dumbass shenanigans because the second the spouses were preparing to leave the shared Bridgerton Braincell just shut off and they're all over the place trying to seduce (and probably failing) their husband/wife to stay.

I can totally see this being the first knee jerk reaction. The Bridgertons are like you can't get married, that's fine, you're still here. But go away???? You must stay!

I think though that it wouldn't take long for one of siblings to see their Jedi lovers get confused and possibly uncomfortable. Then they come to the realisation what they are doing is something their jedi lovers would not be okay with due to their no attachment. Just as their jedi have learned about their culture they have also learned about the jedi's culture. So they decide to practice the love their Jedi practice. They love them and let them go. Hurts like a bitch but it's for the best. The Jedi return to Coruscant. The Bridgertons get a warm feeling whenever they think about them, and it helps when they move forward.

Eventually Colin returns to the Galactic Senate, his duties as a senator could no longer be ignored. He's there for about a week when he gets a visitor.

"Senator a Jedi is here to see you," his protocol droid announces.

A certian red head flashes through Colin's mind, but he quickly squashes that hope. "Send them in," Colin tells his droid.

The red headed Jedi that Colin was hoping for actually walked in through his door. Colin will admit he does miss some of the advantages Mayton clothing had on Penelope's figure, but he does admit she looks far more natural in her robes.

She smiled at him and Colin gets that warm feeling again. "Senator Bridgerton."

"Knight Featherington." Colin waved out the droid.

The door closes behind the droid and Colin finds himself in the arms of his former lover. He can't help himself and technically she started it, it's only natural he kisses back.

"I missed you," Penelope said as they parted. "It took forever for us to have time for leave, but I suppose I'm the lucky one. You're here and the others have to go back to Mayton and back into those Force awful clothes while I get to be cozy here and-" Penelope paused. "You're confused."

"You're back," Colin said. "But you left?"

"Well yes," Penelope said. "There was obviously the mission report to do and other duties I had. Just as you have your duties to do in the senate. It's not like I didn't send my love for you through the Force. I know you probably won't feel it as clearly as say one of my fellow Jedi but-"

Colin's mind blanked. Sending her love? Was that the warm feeling he would get? Was that her? "Wait, wait, wait. You love me?"

"Of course," Penelope said like it was obvious. "Just as you love me."

Penelope feels more confusion coming for Colin and decides they should probably have a conversation.

"So you want a relationship . . . with me?" Colin asked her. "Won't that get you in trouble with the other jedi?"

Penelope rolled her eyes, "If it did then about a good fourth of the order is in trouble." She scooted closer to him. "I will admit relationships are extremely cautioned within the order, and we have rules that others probably don't. Such as with marriage, it would cause an attachment, a possessiveness over my partner I don't want. But romantic love is a natural thing, we don't forbid it. Now I can't promise what the future will bring, there will be times where I must ask you to let me go, even if temporality, and there will be times where I must let you go. But we can always have the option to come back to one another. We love one another, we can just be even if only for a little while."

Colin smiled and kissed Penelope again. When he pulled away he smirked down at her robes. Something about them was enticing.

Colin scooped Penelope up and started making his way to his bedroom. "Come on we have lost time to make up for."

Penelope giggled.