#my marriage ladies and gentlemen

[stargazerdaisy]

Muž just sent me this tweet.

[swiftsdelucaa]

[forbidden-sunlight]

yandere!duke with wicked stepmother!reader imagine

warnings: mentioned child abuse, fem!reader, arranged marriage, implied obsessive behavior.

Imagine being reincarnated not as the heroine of the dark romance novel that you fell asleep reading, but the male lead’s villainous stepmother. Although it would be many years before you would marry his father, and your family would get out their mountain of debt from this arranged marriage. You swore to not take out your anger on the poor child as you laid in your crib.

Just because the duke still held a candle for his first wife and the mother of the male lead, his son did not deserve such cruel treatment from a woman who would never receive any affection from her husband. Arranged marriages rarely result in mutual happiness, but there is always the possibility of creating a respectful partnership between each other. 

So that is what you will do. 

You became ambitious in your studies and etiquette lessons, making connections with other young ladies of high society as your own reputation grew. Instead of becoming known for being a spiteful and superficial noblewoman,  invitations to soirees, tea parties, and banquets arrived at your household every other day.

The Mad Dog of Macaluso became The Blossoming Flower of High Society. Despite the marriage proposals your household had received, none of the gentlemen in the Umbra Empire were as rich as Giovanni Lombardo, the grand duke and the male lead’s father. 

So, the marriage still happened; but you were not bothered by your new husband’s declaration on your wedding night that he would never have a child with you, citing that he found you unpleasant and nothing at all like his deceased wife as his tall frame towering over yours, his gray orbs glaring down at you with icy disdain. You stared at him for a moment before you smiled.

“No one can ever replace a loved one, and it is a relief to know that you do not care for me romantically, Your Grace. This is a situation that is beneficial only to my house, and the Emperor had forced you to select me because he was tired of hearing everyone talking about how his most trusted aide has refused to remarry since his wife’s passing six years ago during childbirth. Your son is your heir, so there is no need to have another child. If you would permit me, I would like to get to know him more. If you do not believe me, you can assign a servant to watch me interact with him and the rest of the staff. Is that acceptable?”

The baffled expression on the duke’s face at your words had been worth all the hard work you have placed into being a better side character that wouldn’t be killed in the novel’s third chapter. You would not disappoint him. 

You would prove to be a valuable partner and protect the male lead until it was time for you to leave the stage. 

Three years passed. You performed your duties as the duchess, overseeing the household and organizing any functions that were to be hosted in the duchy. When you weren’t doing paperwork in your private office or speaking to the head butler on how to improve the workplace and other matters, you spent time with the male lead. 

Alessandro was a sweet little darling, possessing his father’s shiny platinum silver tresses and his mother’s bright blue eyes that sparkled in delight when you praised him for doing so well in his studies with a big hug or a kiss on the cheek. He was precocious for a six-year-old, though he still could not understand why his Papa didn’t like Mama. Mama being you, even when you have had to gently correct him more than once that you are his stepmother, not his birth mother. 

“Some day when you are older, you will understand.” You said, resting your chin on top of his head as you carefully adjusted your grip around his middle. He liked to sit in your lap under the garden’s pagoda during tea time, and you saw no issue with it.  “Papa may not like me, but we love you. That will never change, and we only want the best for you.” You ran a hand through his hair, tucking a stray strand behind his ear. 

In the original work, he became obsessed with the female lead because he did not receive any love from his father and was abused by his stepmother. Her gentle demeanor, her kindness and loveliness triggered his desire to have her all to himself. He had even commissioned the construction of a human-sized golden cage so that he could keep the female lead by his side forever. 

Alessandro pouted. “But I don’t want to wait that long! Can’t you tell me now?”

You chuckled. “Good things come to those who wait, my dear. Believe it or not, being a grown-up can be hard in this big, scary world.”

“That’s impossible! Papa is super cool and can do so many things!”

“Yes, he is quite something, isn’t he? Now drink some tea or it will get cold.” 

What you did not realize at the time was that the duke had returned home early from work and went to search for you. The head maid had told him where you were, though the duke had not expected Alessandro to be with you in the garden. He heard what you said about him, and how you have come to accept that you will never be loved by him and it was not his son’s fault.  How affectionate you were with him, smiling and ruffling his hair while reminding him to pay attention to his arithmetic tutor because it was important for him to understand numbers because they were just as important as knowing all colors in a rainbow or which fork to use for salads. 

You had kept your promise to him. 

You did not demand his affections, prioritizing the duchy and his son’s wellbeing. You did not take any paramours nor spent more than the allowance you were given to shop for dresses and other accessories in the capital. You attended tea parties, and did not bring shame to his family name. You were a perfect wife. You were worthy.

Would you object to him spending time with his son as you do? Would you allow him to get close, to spoil you with gifts? Would you even consider the idea of giving Alessandro a younger sibling? It’s been too long, and he does have needs. 

Happy Mother's Day, guys~! :)

Taglist: @nunezs-stuff @imperfectbloodmoon @yandere-dark-cupid @aiimee9 @cassanderasblog @facelessfionna @ixchelhernandez4 @yourdoorisunlocked @faux-ecrivain @julietdelamare @reiivven @ghostdoodlen @persephone-kore-law @dreamlessnight @obsessedwithromance @f4turemom @pinkgoldweebgirl @yandere-writer-momo

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Hedy Lamarr (Samson and Delilah, Ziegfeld Girl)—Look. I'm sure someone has already submitted Hedy Lamarr because she was spectacularly beautiful, and a very strong lady too: she fled both an abusive marriage AND nazi persecution at a very young age and rebuilt a life for herself pursuing her love for acting all on her own!! Her career as an actress was stellar; while she began acting outside of Hollywood (her very first movie, Ecstasy, won a prize at the Venice Film Festival), she conquered American hearts very quickly with her first movie in the US, Algiers, and then just kept getting better and better. If all this isn't enough, she was also an inventor: her invention of the frequency-hopping spread spectrum radio transmission technique forms the base of bluetooth and has a lot of applications in all kinds of communication technologies. I think that deserves a prize, don't you?

Marilyn Monroe (How to Marry a Millionaire, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, Some Like It Hot)— Ngl I thought you all were lying about sexual attraction until I saw Marilyn Monroe in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes

This is round 6 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Hedy Lamarr:

The only person you can find both on the Hollywood Walk of Fame and in the Inventor's Hall of Fame--her radio-frequency-hopping technology forms the basis for cordless phones, wi-fi, and a dozen other aspects of modern life. She was also passionate in her efforts to aid the Allies in WWII (unsurprising for a Jewish-Austrian Emigree to America), and her name served as the backbone for one of the best running jokes in what is possibly Mel Brooks' best movie. Look, Louis B. Mayer apparently believed he could plausibly promote her as "The world's most beautiful woman". Is an entire website full of people going to be less audacious than one Louis B. Mayer? I didn't think so!

Described as "Hedy has the most incredible personal sophistication. She knows the peculiarly European art of being womanly; she knows what men want in a beautiful woman, what attracts them, and she forces herself to be these things. She has magnetism with warmth, something that neither Dietrich nor Garbo has managed to achieve" by Howard Sharpe, she managed to escape her controlling husband (and Nazi Germany) by a) Disguising as her maid and fleeing to Paris or b) Convincing the husband to let her wear all of her jewelry to a dinner, only to disappear afterwards. Also she was particularly clever and helped develop Frequency-Hopping Spread Spectrum (I can't really explain it but anyway...)

Her depiction of Delilah and Samson and Delilah just lives rent free in my head. The woman was gorgeous.

One of the most beautiful women ever in film, spoken by many critics and fans. Beautiful shapely figure, deeper seductive voice, and often played femme fatale roles. She was also brilliant and an inventor. Mainly self-taught, she invested her spare time, including on set between takes, in designing and drafting inventions, which included an improved traffic stoplight and a tablet that would dissolve in water to create a flavored carbonated drink, and much more.

Gorgeous and brilliant pioneer of modern technology and the middle part.

Marilyn Monroe:

She's amazing!!! A classic bombshell, as well as a strong women who overcame so many obstacles. She also advocated for others, like Ella Fitzgerald.

That fucking saxophone that cuts in whenever she appears on screen in Some Like it Hot

I mean, it's Marilyn Monroe. She's adorable. She's gorgeous. She funny. She's the total package

She's the original American sex symbol, an iconic beautiful woman with eyes you could get lost in, legs for days, gorgeous hair, and a cute tummy. Her voice! Just listen to her voice!!!!!

She is considered one of THE sex symbols of the 1960s and one of the greatest actresses of all time! She HAS to be on this list!

no vintage movie woman is more iconically hot

People are most familiar with pictures of her in the white dress or the Happy Birthday Mr President one, but imo she is at her most beautiful and looks most comfortable when she is photographed by women like Eve Arnold

It’s Marilyn Monroe. If Aphrodite was an actual person, she’d be Marilyn. Do I really need to say more?

What can I say that hasn't been said? Marilyn's legacy is so much bigger than she was in life. She's a defining symbol of 50s and 60s Hollywood sex and it's obvious why. She was absolutely stunning and the camera loved her.

[gracieheartspedro]

About You

how to help gaza

pairing: colin bridgerton x f!reader, brief benedict bridgerton x reader action

description: finally ready to get off the marriage mart, your family arranges a marriage to a bridgerton. but not the one you have always desired.

word count: 2.4k words

author’s note: hiiii folks. this is part one so more coming soon. I wrote it in an hour after I watched pt1 of season 3. I only edited it a couple times. plus there’s a lack of colin content on this website. so i’m here, filling the void ❤️

You had waited for this night your whole life. The night you would be proposed to. 

Your mother had ensured you wore your finest gown, a soft purple dress with beautiful sparkles and embellishments. She even gifted you a necklace your grandmother had worn the night of her engagement. 

It was a huge moment for everyone involved. But you could not help but feel a pit in your stomach. You wanted to call them nerves, but it was more so you knew you were making a mistake. 

When you arrive at Lady Danbury’s estate, you and your parents step out of a horse-drawn carriage and into a beautifully decorated ball. The candles lined the entrance, and red and white roses encapsulated the entire space. 

You did the typical introductions and curtsies. You thanked Lady Danbury for throwing such a captivating event for your special moment. She smiled and told you that it had to be mesmerizing for such anticipation. You felt light-headed thinking of all the eyes that would be on you tonight. 

You found your way to the ballroom, where ladies and gentlemen alike were already dancing. You find your way around the room, instantly finding a group of ladies you had made acquaintance with before. The four of you chat and they all share that they cannot wait to watch the Bridgerton boy propose to you in front of the masses. 

It makes you sick to your stomach. 

You excuse yourself to find some lemonade on one of the many tables. You would prefer some champagne, but alcohol does not make it right for you. It does not allow any clarity. So, you stand alone, trying to collect your thoughts and not freak out too much before anything happens. 

“There’s my gem.”

His voice is deeper when it’s right in one of your ringlet curls. It also doesn’t help that he’s saying it for your ears only, making the comment even more sensual. 

Colin Bridgerton was terrible at being just your friend. He was always too close to you, always searching you out in a crowd, and constantly waiting around for you at social events. 

He had been doing it for years before he disappeared on a world tour. You knew your time on the marriage mart was over when your mother and father, a Duke and Duchess, pulled aside Violet Bridgerton and begged her to pawn one of her sons off onto you. And while she would have easily convinced Colin, he was in Italy learning about The Pantheon and had stated he had no intentions marrying. 

So, Benedict would have to do.

You turn to face the taller gentleman, ensuring your posture was fixed to that of a Lady. 

“Mister Bridgerton, what do I owe the pleasure?” You falter to formalities, rather than your normal banter with him. You knew people would be watching you like a hawk, as tonight was the night Benedict was going to try to secure a proposal. 

“I have not seen you in a year and suddenly you speaking to me as if I am a stranger,” His voice is confident, but his eyes read the same insecure boy you remember. 

You let out a sly chuckle, “Well, we practically are at this point, are we not? You are the Ton’s most eligible bachelor as soon as you returned from your tour  and I feel like the man gracing me with his presence is not the man I once knew.”

He seems taken aback by your comments, his face dropping a bit. 

“I’ve been hearing whispers amongst the Ton that you’re getting a proposal,” He halts, taking a sip of the lemonade slid between his fingers, “From my brother?”

You hear the jealousy laced in his voice, but you try your best not to call him out on it. You turn around, still shoulder-to-shoulder with the man. “One can only hope, Mister Bridgerton. It would only be my pleasure to join the family.”

“As Benedict’s missus?”

You want to scream at him, but your trained politeness is engrained deep within every fiber of your being. 

“Well, I have you know, that it was arranged by your Mama and my parents. It is simply a way to join our families. You know my Mama and yours have always taken to one another. I did not know you would have such an issue with it.”

Before he can say more, you spot Benedict across the ballroom chatting with Eloise and Francesca. He meets your eyes and gives you a curt nod and smirk. You nod back, knowing that he would approach you once the conversation concludes. You had this whole act down to a science. 

Because that’s what it was for you. An act. A way to make your parents get off your back. It was no love match, it was only practical. Benedict was a gentleman, into the arts, comfortable with moving away from the city. He was everything you needed, just not what you wanted. 

“I leave for a bit of time and suddenly my own brother is courting my best friend,” Colin groans, shifting in his spot. You return your gaze back to him, trying to understand why tonight had to be the night that he fought for you. The term best friend had a bite to it, as well. While you were a lady, you had already shared a kiss with a few boys, including Colin. While you two were underage and not able to make such distinct decisions on marriage, you knew that the feelings you had for him were shared. 

What was so frustrating was that he could never actually confess such feelings. You could see it in his eyes when you glanced his way, but the words never slipped his lips. He only shot flirtations at you and then there was no action as a follow-up. It made your mind race and spin. You started to believe that it was not flirtations at all and it was all just teasing.

“I think you are missing out on the key point in your conjecture, Colin,” You lick your lips, moving only a bit closer to him so no one can hear your words, “You left me. I stayed here and pondered what another season would be like without you. And of course, at the very end of such an event, you decide to be cruel.”

“How am I being cruel, Miss? I am simply stating that you are choosing someone I care about for expedience and not for love.”

“You are being cruel by approaching me and acting like you are even half aware of the circumstances you are speaking of.”

He chuckles, trying not to entertain your comments. “I am well aware that you have always wanted a love match. You know that is not what you are getting with Benedict, Gem.”

Your throat tightens because you know he is right. You have dreamed of a love match since you were a precocious child, enduring all the teasing him and Eloise about it. 

And you knew deep down that the love match you wanted was with him. 

The damn nickname he gave you years ago continues to get a rise. You can feel your face get flushed, the heat rising all the way down your neck and chest. 

“Who said I needed a love match, Mister Bridgerton?!”

You never meant to be loud, but as soon as the words leave your mouth, you realize everyone staring your way. You had seriously messed up. 

Colin did not even look away from your completely shell-shocked expression. He was not focused on the glares and whispers, he only cared that the woman he was in love with was about to marry his brother. He could not let that happen. 

The feeling of embarrassment made every part of your body jittery. You decided that the exit seemed like the best option, so you made your way past everyone and ran to the back garden of the Danbury estate. The flowers that lined the railings made the tears in your vision sparkle like fireworks. 

You try your best to suppress the useless waterworks, but the emotions get the best of you. You felt humiliated that you had to explain your motives to a man who hardly knew you anymore. What does he know?

You find a corner to hide in, making sure your face is hidden away from the exit. When you hear footsteps approach, you pray it’s not a Bridgerton. Sadly, you’re disappointed. 

“What did Colin say to you?”

You remove your cream glove, ensuring no tear touches such an expensive fabric. You needed to collect yourself a bit before turning to face Benedict. So you dab your eyes with your fingertips and spin to face him. He looks concerned, his hand reaching for yours. 

“I am so sorry, Lord Bridgerton. He got the better of me and he still knows how best to irritate me,” your eyes well up again with tears, “I do apologize for not being more put together.”

He squeezes your hand reassuringly, “Do not apologize. I expected him to be a bit tormented by the whole situation.”

You furrow your brows, quizzically. “What ever do you mean?”

“Well, he told my Mama last season that he did not want to marry because you were courting Lord Jacques. That is why he left early for his travels.”

The revelation makes your heart skip a beat, “Why would him marrying have anything to do with me?”

You try to play dumb so maybe you could get more out of the man, but instead of answering you, he just shakes his head. His focus drops, and as soon as you lose fixation on his actions, you notice Colin loitering around the exit. You drop Benedict’s hand and sidestep to get the man in your line of vision. 

“You have never been good at hide and seek, Mister Bridgerton,” You say with spite, “Step into the light.”

His slow meander only makes you more angry. 

“Now, why is my brother alone with my best friend in the garden? Seems like a scandal waiting to happen.” 

Benedict snickers, “Seems like we were never alone, brother. You appear to be around every waiting corner.”

You cross your arms, annoyed with both men and sick of the mortification. You could not help but appreciate Benedict’s snarky nature, it has always thrown Colin off his game. You clear your throat, bringing their eyes to you. 

“I wish to understand why you lied to me about leaving early last season.” 

Colin’s disposition changes as soon as you say it. Last season, Colin left abruptly and wrote you saying it was because of a learning opportunity in Vienna. You took his word for it, but based on what Benedict had just told you, that was a lie. 

“Pardon m-”

“Colin, why did you lie about leaving the season early?”

“Gem, I really do not know where you got this information.”

“Oh, give me a break, Colin. You told me and Anthony that you did not wish to marry unless a girl like her came around. When you realized she was interested in another, you left.” 

Colin races forward, grabbing onto the man to your left. He tugs his vest coat and brings him inches from his own face. The action rattles you, but you remain composed. 

“I told you that in confidence!”

“And you are making her upset with your mind games! If you had just said what your heart’s truth was, you would be the one celebrated tonight. Instead, you stand by and fume over a woman you can no longer have.”

Colin clenches his teeth, “Who said I can no longer?”

Your stomach flips, unsure of how Colin could be so possessive of you. Benedict seems shocked as well because he nudges the man off of him and glances over at you. You realize that this is Colin’s way of confessing his intentions, but you cannot believe that he has to say it on the night of your engagement.

“You are brazen to concur such a thing.”

Colin finally looks at you, taking note of your shaky voice. “So, you are going to marry him?”

The unsettle in your heart has never gone away ever since you were told about the arrangement. You knew that your heart was telling you to run the other way, but you did not want to let down your family. You had taken kindly to Benedict, promenading almost every other day to get to know one another. 

“I have not been asked yet, so I am not quit-”

Colin steps forward taking your hand, “What if I asked you first? Would you accept me? My hand, I mean?”

Benedict steps forward, touching his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Gem, will you marry me?”

A tear slips past your lashes, your heart just about exploding within your chest. Colin’s eyes are desperate, pleading with you.  You are not sure what to say, every possible word escaping you. 

You realize you are panting, the breath leaving your lips labored in panic. You flick your sights over to Benedict, who is stunned but not trying to get Colin to retract his query. You revert your gaze back to Colin’s deep blue eyes.

“Why now?”

He takes a deep breath, “Because I am absolutely useless with my emotions and I have only humiliated myself when I express them. I did not think you would ever consider my hand and had I known that you thought kindly of me I would have told you the first moment you debuted. But I cowered in silence, hoping the emotions I have felt since I was a child would subside. But I have searched every corner of this world and I did not find one lady that made me feel the same emotions I feel when I even just look your way. I hate that it took me so long to realize that you are the only woman I will ever really… love.”

The confession is exactly what you need to change your mind. Because you felt the exact same way. All this time you have been running from the emotions you felt every moment Colin stared in your direction. You thought them immature and vain. But every time you watched him dance with another, the fire within you would burn. You were sick of loving him from far away. 

“The Ton believes me to be promised to Benedict. The embarrassment he will suffer if I accept your proposal could be deafening-”

“Do not worry about me, Miss,” Benedict says, pacing with his hands on his hips, “I could never fully live with myself coming between two lovers. I only waiting for him to realize what we have all been subjected to the last 3 years.”

Colin smirks at him, “And what’s that?”

“The torture of loving someone and not giving in to temptation.”

[aphroditelovesu]

Yan!Husband Henry VIII Headcanons (Romantic)

❝ 👑 — lady l: This has been in my draft for a while but I decided to finish it now lol. Hope you like it! Forgive me for any mistakes. ❤️🧡

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, toxic relationship, mention of death perhaps.

❝👑pairing: yandere!henry viii x female!reader.

You had already dreamed of marrying a King, of becoming his Queen and giving birth to his heirs, a romantic fantasy that you and many other young women have dreamed of. They were mere fantasies of romance that you made up, but never really thought it would happen or become the obsession of one of the most infamous Kings in the history of England.

Your dreams remained as they were, dreams of a young lady. The King of the country where you lived was already married, so there wasn't much chance of you marrying him. Your family was of noble enough origin and had considerable wealth, but nothing too extravagant.

Until your older sister's marriage to a powerful man, close to the King. With that, your family immediately moved to the English Court, excited about their new status. Your father was particularly eager to marry you off to a powerful man as well.

Henry was dissatisfied with his wife, Anne, she had failed to conceive the much-desired male heir he so desperately wanted. His wandering eyes began to wander to the young women of the Court and when he laid eyes on you, he knew you would be the one to give him what he wanted.

Henry's captivating gazes seemed to follow you wherever you went and it began to unnerve you. A hint of excitement perhaps, but you knew it was a dangerous game to get involved with the King, especially when he was married.

Your parents were immensely happy with the King's interest in you. If you became his mistress, it would bring benefits and riches to your family. And when Henry got tired of you, you could perhaps marry a man with a noble title. Maybe a Duke or a Marquis.

But you didn't want to be his mistress or anyone's mistress. You wanted a husband and not a mere toy that he could always discard later. Your resistance angered your parents but attracted Henry even more. Your rejecting him has stirred him up, and bewitched him even more. Whenever you were in a room, Henry's eyes would be on you.

All of Henry’s attention was on you and you would be lying if you said you didn’t like it. He didn't even try to hide his affection for you, he sent you gifts and letters constantly. You reciprocated, sending him letters in return, but always remaining firm in your convictions.

Before long, Henry was deeply in love with you and quickly got rid off his current wife, Anne. When he asked you to marry him, shortly after his separation from Anne, you hesitated but accepted. You would finally become his and his alone.

Once you were married, Henry became more possessive than ever. He already didn't like the looks other gentlemen gave you, but now that you were officially his, it would be considered a crime of treason. And we know how he deals with betrayal.

You were his perfect Queen, so sweet and so, well, perfect. Henry makes a point of reminding you of that every day, about how perfect you were for him. He really was in love, so he kept on your side the whole time. His eyes remained only on you.

Henry truly values ​​you and your opinion. It is not a custom, but he would be willing to listen to your wishes and political opinions (if you have any) on matters of state. You are his Queen, after all. If it was your wish, if you were Catholic, Henry could even try to restore Catholicism in England.

He really loved you, maybe not in the conventional way, but he did. Henry would listen to your wishes, fulfill them and all he wants in return is his love. He will not tolerate people speaking ill of you and will condemn anyone who does so for treason.

Henry would be loyal to you, he would take care of you until your death. He wants to have children with you, a family, a male heir, but he also wants to be with you. He could be himself and not the King of England.

And when you finally gave him his long-awaited male heir, Henry knew he would never let you go or let anything happen to you. After all, you are his wife and his Queen. And Henry doesn't handle treason very well.

[ishippedsohardisunk]

Marriage is just having text conversations that are completely indecipherable to anyone else because of 50 layers of inside jokes. I asked my husband if he could pick up my vitamins on the way home and he responded with a picture of a disgustingly overripe banana but I knew exactly what he meant

[eleanor-bradstreet]

Still Going (Anthony Bridgerton x Reader)

Anthony Bridgerton x fem!Reader Rated/warnings: T - suggestiveness, language, panic attack, feels Word count: 1.4k

Summary: A meaningful moment with your new husband. Author's Note: This is just a lil idea that popped into my head last night. Inspired by just wanting to hug the sad!Anthony from one of @fayes-fics stories. Thank you to @colettebronte for helping me pin down the right moment for the header. 💙

Months into your marriage and your husband still left you numb with pleasure each and every night as you tumbled with one another across your bed. Two things had become abundantly clear to you soon after marrying Viscount Anthony Bridgerton. First was the reason unmarried young ladies were not allowed in private company with young gentlemen, particularly of the rakish variety. And second was that you were one of the lucky ones who did not view cavorting with your husband as some sort of grueling, customary duty for the sole purpose of conceiving children. No indeed, it was proving to be the highlight of your life together as he unlocked unimaginable sensations within your body that left your mind soaring even as you lay limp and panting in his arms.

It was in just such a moment on a still summer night at Bridgerton House that you both collapsed back into the pillows together, spent and euphoric from your lovemaking. You chuckled, nuzzling in close to Anthony’s side as he planted a soft kiss on your forehead. You were fuzzy, lapsing into welcome sleep when he leaned away to reach for something on his nightstand. Then you heard the small clatter, immediately followed by his hissing curses.

“Dammit! No…” He rolled away from you, sitting on the edge of the bed as his voice rose in volume. “No, no, no. Fuck!”

Your eyes flew open to see his broad back hunched over, clutching something in his hands. You gathered the sheet around yourself and shifted to sit behind him. “Anthony? What’s wrong?”

In the low moonlight from the windows you could see he cradled his pocket watch in his palm, a splintering crack now etched across its face. His shoulders were beginning to heave, his breath growing short as he stared at it, transfixed. “It broke…” he croaked. “It…it just fell. I’ve dropped it before, but it broke and I…” He was gasping now, fighting for air like a drowning man as his eyes darted and his hands began to shake.

You had seen this before, one of his spells when fear and overwhelm consumed him. It had happened when his youngest sister had broken her leg during childish roughhousing, again when his brother had received an innocuous bee sting, and again when you had come down with a nasty but passing fever after your honeymoon. Every time someone he loved found themselves in harm’s way he was liable to lose control of his faculties, only temporarily, as his mind spun toward the worst possible conclusions. You knew why he suffered this way and didn’t judge him for a moment. Instead, you had committed yourself to bolstering him through the storms, learning techniques that helped call him back to himself.

You wrapped an arm around his shoulders and felt how he trembled.

He continued mumbling to himself, eyes locked on the watch, each word rasping. “It broke…I can’t…what do I…”

“Anthony?” You kept your voice clear and steady. “Anthony, look at me.”

He turned and you were nearly undone by the anguish you found in his eyes. You brought a hand to his cheek and pressed your foreheads together, his frantic exhales gusting across your skin. “My love, it’s alright.” You soothed, stroking his face and running your fingertips into his hair, imploring him to hear you. “You must control your breath. Anthony, follow me.” Reverting to what had worked before, you took his hand and gently guided it to press flat over your heart. You did the same, bringing a hand to rest on his heaving chest so that you mirrored one another. Tears threatened to form at the terrified pounding you felt under your fingertips, something so vulnerable within your husband who was otherwise a pillar of strength.

He was still panicked, nearly vibrating against you as he choked for air, but you kept your breath slow and deliberate, leading him out of the tempest with something solid and rhythmic. After a few moments he fell in sync with you, shuddering inhales that struggled to pace with your own, and desperate exhales as he released the disquiet that surged through him. His pulse began to slow, ever so gradually, and you felt the tension begin to melt out of his frame. He still clutched the watch tightly in his free hand, but the one against your skin grew soft and warm again as he regained himself.

“That’s it. Very good. Everything will be alright.” You cooed, running your thumb over his cheek. You hated that he was faced with such demons and were grateful that your methods of combatting them seemed effective. Anthony sagged against you, starting to breathe through his nose as he settled back into equilibrium. He was always exhausted after his episodes.

“Let me see.” You dropped your hands and gently pried the pocket watch out of his, inspecting it. As far as you could tell the damage was only superficial. Just a fracture in the glass but the mechanism was still ticking. “We can get this repaired.” You reassured him.

He looked back at you, eyes huge and pleading. “It was my father’s watch.”

This was a fact you knew well, with Anthony himself having told you many times before. It wasn’t that he thought you ignorant, it was the anxiety of the moment speaking for him.

“I know, my love.” You nodded. “It is precious. But it is not broken. It’s only the glass that is cracked, see? It’s still going.” You held the timepiece next to his ear so that he could hear its steady ticking for himself. Undeniable relief lit across his face as he let out a shaking exhale, inclining himself to listen more closely. The tempo of the watch gears proved as soothing to him as the beating of your heart. You smiled, knowing the worst was behind you. “First thing tomorrow, I’ll take it to the jeweler and have the glass replaced.”

Closing his eyes for a moment, Anthony nodded. Then he turned to kiss your wrist and place the watch safely in the drawer of his nightstand. Sliding back into the center of the bed, he wrapped you in his arms and burrowed down into the sheets, breathing deep into your hair as he pressed you to his warm, naked torso. “I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I’m sorry you have such a fool for a husband.”

You pouted. “Why would you say he is foolish?”

“Because he goes to pieces over something as silly as a broken watch.” 

“I don’t think it’s silly.” You stretched an arm across his chest, tucking your head under his chin. “I think it speaks to how deeply he cares for his family. How much he honors his father’s memory, like a true gentleman.”

“Mmm. True gentlemen should not fall prey to such reckless displays of emotion.” He fell back into his Viscount’s tone, bitter and exacting. His censure in that voice was cutting to anyone but most of all to himself. His brutal self criticism had nearly come in the way of your betrothal, and it was something you were actively encouraging him to reduce. Particularly in this matter where he was so obviously not at fault, you would not allow him to chastise himself. You saw things from another perspective entirely.

After a moment, you spoke softly. “I think it may be your heart’s way of asking to be heard.”

Anthony scoffed. “You think I have one?” Not the reaction you wanted, but perhaps the one you should have expected. 

You pulled back to meet his eyes, arms still banded tightly around one another. When you looked at your husband, the most handsome man you had ever seen, the man who had fought for your affections and filled your life with wonder every day since he had won them, you felt nothing but certainty.

“I know you do. I have seen it.”

His features softened, brows turning up as his warm eyes grew misty. With the hint of a smile tugging at his lips, he lovingly brushed a hand along your cheek. “You have seen it?”

“Yes, and in time you will see it too.” You smiled and leaned up into his gentle kiss then returned to lay your head on his chest, trailing your fingers languidly through the dark hairs found there. “I would not have married you if you did not possess one. It is nothing to be ashamed of, Anthony.” You curled more tightly against him, pressing your ear down until you could hear the proof of it. The heart that you loved so dearly, the one bound to your own, now returned to its strong and constant cadence.

“It is beautiful. It may have some cracks, but it is still going.”

Tagging: @angels17324 @bridgertontess @broooookiecrisp @secretagentbucky

[milkteabinniechan]

Pink Carnations - A Bridgerton Story

ko-fi // m.list

pairing: Bridgerton Au! Chan x female reader

a/n: This was a labor of love honestly and I wanted to break out of my normal writing comfort zone so thank you all for giving me the platform to do that <3 I hope you all enjoy the first chapter. Please leave feedback!! It helps me out sm

Chapter One

Pink carnations lined the pathway to your house. That's how you knew spring was arriving. Long lines of pink. You'd push open your bedroom windows and breathe in the freshly cut grass, you'd let the warm breeze press past your hair, tickling your neck and shoulders.

It was your wedding day.

"Everyone is waiting downstairs, ma'am." A chambermaid squeaked from the doorway.

She was a new hire. A small, meek little thing that didn't talk much and avoided all eye contact. You had attempted many times to spark up a conversation with her, but all your efforts had fall flat thus far. You turned towards the door and gave her a firm nod. You took a deep breath in and made your way towards the stairs. Your dress swirled and swept across your legs as you moved.

You absolutely adored your dress. Long, flowing chiffon cascaded down your hips, falling to your feet at perfect length. A beaded corset swam up your waist and chest, while delicate lace fabric draped your shoulders, trickling down like a spring rain.

You counted your footsteps as you ascended down the staircase; one, two, three, four. Before you knew it, you were in the main hall of your family home. The kitchen staff had decorated every corner of the enormous mansion you called home. As you glanced around the room, there was only one person you were really looking for.

Chan was a potential suitor but he never pursued you. Gentlemen brought flowers to your door nearly every day. Bouquets of roses and purple tulips filled your room like something out of a fairytale. But he never sent so much as a flower petal.

"No carnations? Do these men not know you at all?" Your sister had notes the lack of your favorite flora.

Now it was your wedding day, a perfectly respectable man by the name of Felix Lee had asked for your hand in marriage. He came from a wealthy family

And had always treated you with the utmost respect. He was very well-liked in the town. Quite the charmer to the gaggle of ladies that had found themselves swarming him every chance they could. He had a beautiful smile and effortlesslessy gorgeous hair. You found yourself shrinking around him whenever he would speak, fearing that the light he exuded would burn you away.

But however magical Felix seemed, you still found yourself searching for Chan around every corridor. The whole town had been invited to this momentous occasion as Lady Whistledown had so affectionately called it.

She had gushed ansd gooned over the entire guest list, right down to the third cousin of the second aunt of the twice removed great uncle of… whatever. This was a spectacle. This was not for you. You were the eldest of your family. As your mother had never bore a son, the responsibility came down to you to marry someone in good standing to provide for your family. Although you would not live in this place anymore, your siblings and your parents would be well taken care of.

“The newest Whistledown has just arrived!” a valet ran into the dining hall with a small white paper in hand. 

“She’s writing on the day of your wedding? That has to be a good sign.” Your sister nudged your shoulder with hers.

The two of you shared a smile that quickly faded when you saw the shocked faces slowly peppering across the room. Judgemental eyes shot through you like rusty nails, leaving an infectious monster spreading through your entire body. Your mother crossed the marble floor to hand you the latest gossip. Your hands began to shake as you lifted the small sheet to your face.

Dearest, Gentle Reader, 

They say what is good for the goose is good for the gander, but what if the goose has taken a GANDER at another? This writer has heard a rumor most scandalous, about a certain Lady that has spent a significant amount of her time and attention on someone who is NOT her groom to be. A man in good standing is only considered as such if the company he keeps holds themselves to the same standards. Perhaps this bride may be having second thoughts?

taglist: @sugawhaaa @trixiekaulitz @chrizzztopherbang @cassidymb121 @roanns-posts @staysinbloom @yaorzu-blog @bubblebisk @cotton-candycloudz @beautyinhypnosis @domicaru @doohnut @strawberry31 @slxtmeri @newhope8 @tinyelfperson

[michwritesstuff]

She’s Gonna Save Me (Bridgerton: Benedict Bridgerton)

this is my first ever bridgerton fic! i’ve had such a writer’s block and post grad has been so difficult but listening to music and reading other writers’ works has me feeling inspired! so enjoy my first story in months and first of the new year :)

pairing: female reader (she/her) x Benedict Bridgerton reader x Colin Bridgerton (platonic!)

summary: Benedict contemplates a life pursuing art and living outside the expectations of his family and society. Does he find a wife and settle down or live freely? What happens when he meets someone who can offer him the best of both worlds?

notes/warnings: mention of nudity, alcohol consumption, activities that can be witnessed at Sir Granville’s scandalous studio saoirees��

word count: 2.4k

As the second eldest Bridgerton boy, Benedict never found himself extremely pressured by the standards and expectations of society. Those responsibilities were entrusted upon his brother, Anthony, the Viscount.

Benedict reserved himself to a more romantic life, preoccupied by his love and interest for art.

Attending every event of the season was merely a ploy to keep his mother happy and distracted from the fact that he had no true intention of courting any ladies.

He would drink, laugh, and dance the season away without ever calling on anyone.

Benedict believed that this season wouldn’t be any different.

******

When you first agreed to join your family friends across the Atlantic in London, you didn’t expect that you would be taking part in the ton’s social season.

As the youngest daughter, your brothers married with children and sisters off tending to their new husbands, your father didn’t feel the need to arrange a marriage for social or monetary gain.

Your family was well off in the states, your parents often described as ‘free spirits.’ They had always impressed upon you the importance of appreciating the beauty around you and romanticizing life.

With your mother’s passing, you decided to stay at home with your father, choosing to enjoy a quiet life in the country studying English literature.

Staying with Sir Henry Granville was beyond exciting and allowed you to interact and mingle with the more eclectic members of British society.

You had lasted all but a week before you were called upon by a Miss Lady Danbury.

She had stressed the importance of participating in the social season and the impending judgment of the ton and Queen if you did not participate.

While you never cared much for the opinion of others, you didn’t fancy the idea of being ogled every time you ventured into town.

******

“I heard she was rejected by every suitor.”

“She’s so ugly and unpleasant, a dowry wouldn’t even be worth it.”

“Apparently she’s slightly deformed.”

You couldn’t begin to believe the rumors circulating about you, the American.

You swore that the descriptions were ripped out of a storybook, describing some gremlin crawling from the depths of the earth.

Men and women alike had no problem spreading stories about the young lady joining them for the season.

Worst of all, none of them had even seen you yet. The modiste had made personal house calls, as requested by Lady Danbury.

Now you stood, in front of the carriage, at the first ball of the season, your debut.

You followed behind Sir Henry and Mary Granville, head held high and eyes straight forward as you waded through the ballroom towards Lady Danbury and the Queen.

You heard the whispers and felt the stares as you stood before the queen.

With one leg behind the other and your arms laid at your side, you gently bent your knee and curtsied before her.

She gave you a once over before bowing her head back, a silent approval.

Moving out of the way, you stood at the edge of the dance floor as Lady Danbury approached.

“Miss y/l/n, I do hope you don’t mind that I have taken the liberty of securing you a few gentlemen to fill out your dance card.”

“I expect nothing less from you, Lady Danbury” you smiled back, a teasing tone in your voice.

Your sarcasm and apprehension towards the season had not gone unnoticed by Lady Danbury.

She quite admired your wit and sharp mind, and more than anything, enjoyed the challenge.

******

You were now on your 4th dance of the night; your feet were hurting, and you wanted nothing more than to be curled up with a book.

Fortunately, your current dance partner was not completely awful and was actually quite charming.

Colin Bridgerton.

You had met him once before, in passing, when Lady Danbury had brought you to meet his mother, Violet, and sister, Daphne.

 Apparently, Daphne had been named the Diamond of the season in her first season out on society and married a Duke.

His younger sister, Eloise, was preparing for her first season as well.

However, through your brief encounter with Eloise she did not seem as happy with the matter as her sister and mother were.

You had a feeling she would be a good person to befriend.

“Tell me about yourself Miss y/l/n” Colin inquired.

“Y/N,” you quickly corrected.

“Just Y/N is fine,” you smiled slightly.

“Well Y/N, how are you finding London and the beginning of the season?”

“London, well its quite beautiful. There is so much art, and history, and the architecture is amazing. Truly, I wouldn’t mind getting lost here. And well…this—” you paused, glancing around the ball at all the young women around you.

“May I be frank?” you asked, Colin’s eyebrows raising in surprise.

“Of course, Miss Y/N”

“I slightly detest all of this, my feet hurt, and I’ve been dancing for quite too long. Why would I want to marry someone I’ve met one time?”

Colin was slightly taken aback before grinning wildly.

“You remind me of my sister Eloise,” he stated.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, I quite liked her,” you grinned back.

As the dance ended you curtsied before Colin as he bowed before you.

“I hope you find the person you’re looking for Y/N, but I have a feeling you don’t need all of this to do so.”

You smiled widely and slightly nodded before following him off the dance floor.

“I’ll grab us a drink,” he said before walking away. Your eyes followed his back for a few seconds before scanning the room.

They quickly landed on two men whispering in the corner.

The slightly shorter one had massive sideburns and a quizzical look that seemed as if it must be permanently etched onto his face. The other man had a certain air about him.

Even from across the room his light-colored eyes had a shine in them.

Colin returned; you thanked him before looking to the corner again. This time the slightly taller one had caught your gaze and lifted his eyes to meet yours. You felt your face flush and quickly turned your head.

“Colin?”

“Yes?”

“Who are those two men in the corner?”

Colin looked up to see his brothers in the corner looking at him inquisitively.

“Oh, those two? You don’t want to be near the likes of them. Poorly mannered and when they were younger, they would wet the bed for years well beyond what was normal.”

You were following along for a while until that last part.

You gave Colin a quick look to see if he was being serious.

His mouth remained flat and tight-lipped for a few mere seconds before letting through a boisterous laugh.

“My apologies Y/N, those are my brothers.”

Your eyes widened at the confession.

“Your brothers?”

“Yes, lets introduce you,” he stated, beginning to pull you across the ballroom.

“Colin, No I—"

“Brothers, this is Miss y/l/n, Anthony, Benedict,” he pointed out.

You curtsied before both of them before speaking up.

“I told you, just Y/N is fine Colin.”

You weren’t sure what his brothers would say about your slight improperness. It was clear that the Bridgerton’s were a well-respected family in the ton.

You glanced at the eldest brother who you learned was named Anthony who gave you a curt nod before excusing himself to sneak off from an inquiring Lady Danbury.

You smiled at him before turning your gaze to the second eldest Bridgerton.

“Y/N here was telling me about her studies in the states. She is well-read and well-traveled.”

You rolled your eyes, playfully pushing Colin slightly.

“You flatter me, Colin. Unfortunately, I am not perfect. For example, I am about done with all of this and was just about to call a carriage.”

“Oh, but you must stay for one more dance Y/N. Poor Benedict here has not waltzed once.”

Benedict tried to sneakily hit his brother for his clear meddling.

“While that may be true, I do not need my younger brother imposing on such a lovely lady.” Benedict states.

“Nonsense, everyone must waltz at least once,” you laughed, pulling Benedict towards the center of the room.

His eyes widened at your forwardness as he shot Colin a disapproving brotherly look, to which Colin gave him a grin and thumbs up.

As the music began you moved around the room with Benedict.

“So, Mr. Bridgerton, tell me what exactly it is you do.”

“Just Benedict is fine,” he stated, mirroring your words from earlier.

“Besides, aren’t I the one who should be questioning you about your skills?”

“That’s awfully backwards thinking, I hope you don’t get stuck that way” you replied sarcastically before being spun around.

When you returned facing Benedict, a knowing grin was stuck on his face. You were witty. He liked witty.

“I suppose that is fair. I’m an artist, well…I’m trying to be an artist. It’s a little complicated.”

You nodded understandingly, while the arts were enjoyed by many, it wasn’t exactly a noble pursuit, especially for you as a woman.

“You should come by Sir Granville’s studio, it’s quite…”

You couldn’t think of a proper word to describe the soirees Granville hosted. It was taboo and scandalous to most respectable members of society. However, if Benedict was an artist as he was claiming, he should fit right in.

“…inspiring,” you finished.

Benedict gave you an interesting look.

Little did you know, he had been to Granville’s studio, several times.

He hadn’t been in a while since his family had just returned from Aubrey Hall and the preparation for Eloise’s season had been quite hectic for his mother.

But you, picturing you at Granville’s studio was not something Benedict had imagined.

Women who were married or of low social standing was something else, but you, a young lady in her first official season stalking down the halls in such a disreputable manner. It didn’t fit the picture of the beautiful woman before him.

Benedict was quickly learning not to try and categorize you into one box.

“What do you know of Granville’s studio?” he asked seriously.

“Well, for one, I’m staying there. Two, I feel more comfortable among that community than here, if you understand what I mean…” you trail off.

Benedict gives you a small smile of understanding.

As the song ends Benedict lifted your hand to his mouth, kissing it gently before sightly lowering it back down, fingers brushing softly as he pulls away.

“Until next time Y/N”

“I look forward to it Benedict.”

******

Two months had passed since Lady Danbury’s first ball of the season. In that time you had befriended Eloise and Colin Bridgerton, often sitting in the parlor room of their home during the daytime, chatting the day away.

As such, you had also grown closer to Penelope Featherington who also came over often. You always considered yourself to be quite perceptive, so it was evidently clear that Penelope was fond of Colin. You thought about mentioning something, but it didn’t seem like your place.

Throughout your time at the Bridgerton’s household you had seen Benedict a handful of times. Unfortunately, your encounters were reduced to small greetings, stolen glances and light brushes as you walked past each other.

Until today.

You were sitting in the empty parlor room as Eloise ran to her room to fetch some ‘evidence’ and ‘clues’ about Lady Whistledown.

“Good Afternoon Y/N” Benedict greeted as he walked in, taking a quick look around the room to find the two of you alone.

“Afternoon Mr. Bridgerton,” you greeted back, a slight teasing tone to contrast your seemingly formality.

He gave you a knowing look before continuing.

“I hope I’m not being too forward, but I plan on attending Sir Granville’s tonight, I was wondering if I would see you there?”

You gave him a teasing smile before your face fell into a serious and hurt look.

“Mr. Bridgerton, I’m appalled, would a respectable young woman such as myself be caught there? Imagine the horror if the rest of the ton were to find out.”

He let out a loud laugh at your remark, in the short time that he had known you, you never failed to make him laugh.

“Yes Benedict, I’ll see you there,” you smiled.

“Good,” he replied.

******

That night you had a few drinks to help you take the edge off before guests started coming over. There was something about interacting with Benedict that made you nervous.

 You were walking around the art studio observing the nude model and the artists renditions when you felt someone lay their hand on your shoulder.

“OH! Oh my, Benedict, you scared me.”

“Sorry, love, didn’t mean to startle you.”

You continued walking around the circle, admiring the art around you.

“She’s stunning, is she not?” you questioned.

“She is,” he answered quickly.

However, when you turned to look at him his eyes were already trained on yours.

You smiled widely, walking out of the studio as Benedict followed like a lost puppy.

“Will I ever get to see your art?” you asked him.

He smiled sheepishly as his arm reached back to scratch the back of his neck.

“I certainly would let you, if there was any.”

“Practicing here for a few months and you still have nothing to show?” you teased.

Benedict gave you a look.

“I may have asked around about you,” you confessed.

“And?” he asks.

From what you have heard, both from his siblings and other people around you. Benedict was a kind and creative soul, with a great appreciation for the beauty around him.

“Your family and friends speak highly of you, that’s important.”

“What about you? What do you speak of me?”

“Besides being a tortured artist? I think highly of you.”

He nodded his head again, before responding.

“I think highly of you as well,” he whispered quietly, leaning down slightly so he was more at eye level.

You blamed the alcohol in your system for what you did next.

Yanking him down by his collar, you pulled him close and reached up until your lips were flush against his, pushing with all your might as if you would never kiss him again.

“Y/N—” he pulled away, his senses flooding back.

“This is…no, I’ve dishonored you I—”

“Oh hush Benedict, I do not care about those rules. I want you.”

He looked down at you, holding your face in his hands as he searched your eyes for confirmation.

Biting your lip and grinning up at him, Benedict couldn’t help but pull you back in, one hand sinking to your waist to pull you closer, the other rested on your cheek.

“You know this means we have to get married now?” Benedict teases.

“That means you presume I would say yes,” you teased back.

His smile grew impossibly bigger as he pulled you back in for a tender kiss.

“Let’s just see how you perform tonight before we think about marriage” you joked.

Benedict pulled back with a smirk and look in his eye you haven’t seen yet as he looked you over.

“Art is all about practicing and perfecting, we might need to practice a few times before you make your final judgement” he teased back.

You threw your head back in surprise, a large laugh leaving your lips before you smiled sweetly at him.

This was not how you imagined the social season going.

check out the rest of my work ⤑ here!

[stargazerdaisy]

"Really? Job offers at a funeral?!" ((Pause)) "I gotta go to more funerals."

My husband is the freaking worst. I'm laughing so hard and we're both going to hell for it.

[wheeboo]

venus | choi seungcheol

SYNOPSIS. in which the love between you and the prince is forbidden. PAIRING. prince!choi seungcheol x servant-commoner!reader (ft. servant-commoner!chan very briefly) GENRE. fluff, angst with a hopeful ending?, forbidden love, royalty au, arranged marriage au (cheol is in an arranged marriage), established secret relationship WARNINGS. cheol and reader both have a lil argument, terms of endearment (darling, love, sweetheart), kissing WORD COUNT. 3.8k

note: fic is vaguely inspired by the bridge part of this song called "venus" by regina song 🫶💕 this is also my first time writing a royalty au, so i hope you enjoy! this also features the very iconic "you came" "you called" line 😭

The ballroom of Pledis Palace is charged with an air of enchantment. The time had just reached the peak of evening. Moonlight filters through the large, grand windows, bathing the open room in an ethereal glow. Along the sides of the ballroom are intricately carved golden marble columns, each one painted with a different tale of the kingdom's past.

In the middle of the ceiling sits a majestic chandelier hanging from a massive, golden chain. The piece is the crown jewel of the ballroom, one that easily draws visitors into all its glory and beauty, and it casts a radiant gleam that seemed to rain down like stardust upon the guests below.

The dance floor reflects the light from the chandelier, creating an illusion of stars twinkling at one's feet. You watch all the elegantly-dressed guests move with grace across the room. The women are all dressed with precise attention to detail, their gowns and jewelry like works of art on a canvas. Some wear dresses in shades of amethyst, emerald, and sapphire, embroidered with beautiful beadwork that glistens like constellations, while others prefer flowing gowns in delicate pastels, as if they've stepped out of a fairytale.

They all hold onto their partners𑁋lavish gentlemen dressed in sophistically tailored suits matching the colours of their ladies' gowns𑁋with utmost love and enjoyment, while you find yourself standing at the side, holding up a tray of drinks as a particular heaviness settles in your chest.

And as your eyes drift ever so slightly, you swear that regardless what direction you look in, he's always there at the end of it, like a light at the end of the tunnel. Yet the light this time was dim and lacked almost all the hope that used to be there when you looked at him.

Not only is the royal family of Pledis here, but also a second one. The Choi royal family of Pledis, and of course, the future in-laws.

Prince Choi Seungcheol is dancing with poise that appeared almost effortless, eyes locked in a tender gaze to his future betrothed, yet the smile to his face doesn't quite reach his eyes. It's the same kind of gaze during the times he would be with you, like in the secret corners of the royal garden that only the two of you knew, or in the times you both snuck out of the castle at the wee hours of the night to stargaze, or the intimate nights you spent with him in his quarters where you had to leave just before daybreak.

It's those times where the certain line between nobility and commoner could be momentarily blurred. It's those times where you both truly felt free in more ways than one.

As you continue to watch the dance and see the way he twirls his betrothed with ease, the world seems to blur, and it felt as if it was just you and Seungcheol in this grand ballroom. His eyes, so familiar yet so distant, meet yours in a fleeting moment. His face falls instantly.

The world and time may have pulled you apart, but in that stolen glance, you were brought back together. In your eyes, you saw the prince who had defied tradition and chosen to be with you without boundaries. In his eyes, he saw the commoner who had been his confidant and, more importantly, his secret love.

"Why are you just standing there? Go tend to your duties," the steward advises you annoyedly, snapping you out of your focus. With a start, you fix your posture, offering a quick nod of understanding to the stern-faced steward.

Hastily, you resume your duty, walking through the large crowd, presenting the tray of drinks and feeling their odd looks linger on you as you move past them. They're taunting you, not with words, but with their subtle, condescending glances. The weight in your chest only deepens with each step you take.

You reach the outskirts of the dance floor, casting another glance towards Seungcheol. His elegant moves and the seemingly affectionate way he held his betrothed gives a bittersweet feeling to your chest, and you can't help but briefly imagine yourself there with him instead𑁋being the one at the end of his smile, the end of his touch.

As the music swelled, the dance finally comes to an end. You watch as the prince gracefully leads his betrothed back to her seat, a warm smile on his face. You know he didn't have much of a choice. He had an obligation to the kingdom, to his family, and to the future over the love he had once whispered to you in the hidden corners of the royal gardens.

Your heart aches again, but you understand. You couldn't be a part of his world, no matter how much he cared for you.

You don't catch the way his eyes follow you once you dismiss yourself out of the ballroom, struggling to hold your tears back.

"Y/N, don't you think you overwatered this area right here?" Chan, a fellow gardener for the royal garden and closest friend, taps lightly on your shoulder, startling you out of your daze and nearly the watering can in your hands. You blink rapidly, bringing yourself back to the present.

All you manage is a weak smile, some embarrassment and guilt flooding your senses. "Sorry, I... I guess my mind was elsewhere."

He gives you a knowing look, gaze sympathetic yet encouraging. "It's okay. I know things haven't been the best recently." He gestures toward the grand castle behind you, its towers standing tall and proud. You know exactly what he's talking about, and it makes you let out a sigh, facing back towards the garden in front of you.

You've poured your heart into the royal garden for so long, finding comfort in its quiet beauty and the therapeutic rhythm of tending to its blooms from day to night.

As the sun dips below the horizon and the moon begins to rise, the garden transforms into a world of magic. The abundance of flowers surrounding you seem to glow vibrantly under the moonlight, and their scent becomes more rich in the cool night air. The air carries a gentle breeze, and the soft rustle of leaves soothes your troubled mind.

There was just something about simply being with nature𑁋in the royal garden and with the beauty that exists outside its walls𑁋that allows you to breathe more freely. Sometimes, you swear that even the flowers are capable of whispering words of their own, as if sharing stories with you alone, or stories that you used to listen to with one particular man.

Just as you're about to finish watering one last final section, you hear Chan's distant voice from afar.

"Y-Your Highness! What brings you here at this hour?"

You freeze in place, the almost-empty watering can slipping from your fingers as you turn around.

Prince Seungcheol stands at the edge of the garden, his gracious figure silhouetted against the moonlit scenery. He's dressed in his nighttime attire, a pair of simple yet elegant black trousers and a crisp white shirt that flows slightly in the cool breeze. His gaze flickers between you and Chan, a hint of curiosity in his expression, and the two of you both offer a respectful bow in his direction as he approaches.

"I just wanted some fresh air," Seungcheol answers sharply, locking his eyes with yours, and there's a small smile that graces his lips once he catches sight of you. "It's peaceful here in the garden, isn't it?"

You heart only flutters to his words, yet that arrow of sadness pierces through your chest. However, even below the auroral skies and with the intoxicating fragrance of flowers all around, your heart feels lighter than it has in a long time.

"Chan, you may excuse us for a moment." He gestures to the young boy, his voice carrying a warm, reassuring tone that you've longed to hear.

With a quick nod, Chan offers a polite bow, shooting you a glance before slipping his way back in the direction of the castle, leaving you alone with Seungcheol.

Seungcheol approaches you, the distance between you decreasing until you're standing just a breath away from each other. You both remain in a contemplative silence, neither of you wanting to break the fragile moment that has been rekindled after so long.

Finally, he speaks in a hushed tone. "You've been avoiding me."

Your gaze is quick to fall to the ground in guilt, unable to meet his eyes.

"You know I had to," You reply simply, voice barely more than a whisper. "We can't be together, Cheol. You should know this better than me. It was the only choice you had. Duty called, and you answered."

Seungcheol's face only contorts with a mix of anguish and frustration. "Duty? Duty won't keep me warm at night, Y/N. Duty won't make me feel alive. You are what my heart longs for. You should know this. This is all purely arranged, don't you remember?"

You let out an audible scoff, feeling your hands crumple into fists at your side. "You're being selfish right now. Think about the kingdom, your family, and the future you're meant to build. Don't you see why we can't... we can't be together? It's inevitable. We shouldn't..." Your find your voice drifting away, words getting caught in your throat.

He steps even closer, his frustration boiling over into desperation. "I am thinking about them. I think about them every day, but I... I can't stop thinking about you either. I can't stop loving you."

"This love won't feed the hungry, Seungcheol. This love won't protect our people. This love won't secure the kingdom's future. This love won't change the fact that I'm merely a commoner and you're a prince."

The moonlight accentuates the sadness in his eyes as your words sink in, and you find yourself unable to hold back the tears that have welled up. The two of you only stand there for a few long moments, simply gazing in each other's glassy eyes, feeling like the garden itself was holding in a breath of its own.

Then in a sudden moment of vulnerability, you step closer to him, resting your head against his chest, taking in his familiar warmth and the scent you've longed for as your tears stain his shirt. Seungcheol wraps you in his strong arms, pulling you closer, and you feel his heartbeat against your body, steady and comforting. It's a sound you've always loved listening to whenever you embraced each other.

"I've missed you, darling," he mutters quietly. "Don't you understand how much you mean to me?"

With his arms around you, you feel a warmth that fills the void in your heart. It's a sensation you've yearned for the past few torturous months.

"I-I've missed you too," You confess, voice trembling. "But... but we can't𑁋"

"Please," he pleads softly, tightening his hold around you. "Can't I just hold you?"

The tenderness his voice holds cuts you off, and you can't help the way your fingers instinctively knead at his shirt.

Seungcheol holds you tightly, as if he's afraid that letting go will make you vanish into thin air. In this fleeting moment, there's no kingdom to rule, no traditions to uphold𑁋just the two of you, reunited in an embrace that disregards the confines of your roles. It's as if the world beyond this secluded royal garden has ceased to exist, and for the first time in a long while, you feel truly alive.

"I love you," he murmurs, voice heavy with sorrow, his lips brushing against your hair. "I love you more than anything in this world."

Usually that particularly intimate exchange brings those flutters to your stomach and a giddy smile to your face, but instead, it only makes your heart throb. Though you know with every fibre in your body that it's true𑁋that you love each other. It's not a secret, nor a feeling to deny.

You find yourself pulling away slightly, angling your head up to be able to take a look at him. His gaze meets yours halfway, and the intensity in his dark pupils nearly takes your breath away. He searches your eyes for a moment, before drawing his lips near yours, his intent clear. For a heartbeat, you're tempted to give in𑁋to taste the sweetness of his kiss once more.

But then the weight of responsibility, the duty you've always known, everything, pulls you back.

"I-I can't," You whisper, the words escaping your lips shakily. "We can't, Seungcheol. It-It's not right."

Seungcheol's breath hitches as you pull away. His lips hover just inches from yours, yearning for a connection that seems increasingly unattainable.

"I know," he replies quietly, his voice barely more than a breath. He still doesn't want to let you go. "I understand. I'm sorry."

You bring a hand up to cup his cheek, caressing his skin softly. "The kingdom needs you. Your people need you. They need a strong, capable leader. They need their prince."

Seungcheol's jaw tightens. "And what about what I need? What about what my heart seeks?"

You only gaze longingly at him. The two of you know the answer to that. You don't have to say anything before he understands with a sigh. His expression softens with a mix of resignation and affection, and he takes your hand in his, bringing it to his lips to press a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

"Your Highness, your presence is requested back in the palace," Chan's voice calls out from behind, breaking the fragile moment between the two of you.

Seungcheol releases your hand defeatedly, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer.

However, instead of backing away, he leans back in close to whisper into your ears, "Come meet me at the royal ballroom tomorrow at midnight," Then he pauses, contemplating, and adding on, "if you wish, of course."

Then his lips curl into a bittersweet smile before turning away to leave. The sound of his footsteps gradually fades as he walks away back towards the palace, leaving you standing amidst the fragrant blooms and under the rays of soft moonlight.

Come meet me at the royal ballroom... midnight... if you wish. Seungcheol's words have been echoing in your mind for the entirety of the day, sometimes even distracting you from the duties you are assigned to in the royal garden.

The more you thought over his invitation, the more it felt like an impossible temptation, knowing well of the risks and consequences it could bring.

The day passes in a blur, the sun making its daily journey across the sky, casting a warm and inviting glow over the palace and the royal garden. And when the late night finally takes over, and the clock strikes midnight, you find yourself cautiously walking down the large corridor of the palace, your feet instinctively bringing you in the direction of the royal ballroom. It's eerily quiet at this time, nothing but skeleton staff that still heightens your paranoid senses of getting caught.

Yet as you stop in front of the grand doors of the ballroom, your heart quickens its pace. You pause for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. Should you really be doing this? Was it entirely a good idea to be here?

But just the thought of simply him draws you in, your hand briefly gliding over the glistening doorknob.

With a determined sigh, you take the leap and push the heavy doors open. The ballroom lies before you, bathed in the silvery luminescence filtering through the grand windows. Your heart races as you step inside.

The ballroom is empty, deserted practically. All of the lights, including the large chandelier, were switched off, the only source coming from the outside world through the tall windows.

As you step further into the room, the sounds of your shoes echoing throughout, the sheer emptiness of the place becomes more apparent. You swear you even hear your own thoughts bouncing off the walls of the room. Doubts start to creep into your mind. What if he doesn't come? What if this was all a mistake?

However, just as you're about to give in to the feeling of hopelessness, you hear a soft sound from behind you. You turn to find Seungcheol entering the ballroom and closing the door shut. He's dressed in a simple black suit, and there's a twinge of vulnerability in his eyes that mirrors your own.

"You came," he says, and his voice is so soft that you can barely hear it over your racing heart.

You fully turn yourself to him, swallowing down a nervous lump in your throat.

"You called."

Seungcheol's eyes light up, and a faint smile crosses his lips as he steps closer to you. The moonlight bathes him in an celestial glow, accentuating his princely features. But in this moment, he's just the man you've been in love with for so long.

He extends his hand toward you, eyes locked onto yours, inviting you to share a dance with him.

"May I?" he asks gentlemanly, and it sends a rush of heat to your cheeks.

You hesitate for a brief moment, glancing down at his hand and back up to his face. "I... I don't know how..."

Seungcheol's smile remains warm and encouraging, his hand still extended toward you.

"It's okay," he says softly. "I'll teach you. Just follow my lead."

Tentatively, you place your hand in his. His grip is firm yet gentle as he guides you to the centre of the empty dance floor, a certain eager bounce in his step that you notice, and the stars painting the ground seem to come to life as you stand with him. Seungcheol places his hand on your waist, and the warmth of his palm against your skin sends shivers down your spine. You loop your arms around his neck, trying to steady your breathing as you prepare to follow his lead.

At first, your steps are awkward, but you try your best to mimic the elegance and grace that he naturally possesses. He's probably had personal training for this kind of thing, You think.

You chuckle at the small moments where your feet accidentally bump or you step on his toes, and Seungcheol's laughter mingles with yours. Nothing but a soft melody of an imagined song fills the silence as the two of you move together in the middle of the ballroom.

"You're doing great," he whispers, breath brushing against your ear as you sway together.

It's scarily easy to lose yourself in Seungcheol's eyes. They're the same eyes that once whispered secrets of love to you beneath the stars. Now they say a lot without saying anything.

You don't know how long you've been dancing, but it feels like an eternity and a fleeting moment all at once. The world outside the ballroom may be waiting, filled with your separate responsibilities and expectations, but in this moment, it's just you and him.

"Have I mentioned how beautiful you look tonight?" Seungcheol comments, even though you were only dressed in your servant uniform.

Your cheeks flush at his compliment, feeling a bit self-conscious under his gaze, and offer a shy smile. "I'm not as stunning as the ladies at the court, nor your betrothed."

Seungcheol gently tilts your chin upward, making sure you meet his eyes.

"Every time I look at you, I feel like I fall in love all over again." His thumb brushes lightly against your cheek. "Every time I watch you down tending to the garden through my quarters, I feel as if you're tending to my heart. I can simply say that you're the most beautiful person I've ever laid my eyes on, sweetheart."

His words make your heart swell out of your chest, his grip on your waist tightening imperceptibly, drawing you closer to him. The space between you vanishes, and you can feel the heat of his body seeping through the layers of fabric that separate you. Seungcheol could shower you with praises all day long, and you would never tire of hearing them. He has a way of making you feel special, cherished, and utterly adored.

"Cheol?" You call out, voice tinged with vulnerability.

He raises an eyebrow, still guiding you through the dance. "Yes, love?"

"Are we crazy for doing this?" You ask. It's meant to be rhetorical in a way, but the uncertainty in your voice lingers, and Seungcheol's expression becomes more serious.

He slows the movement between you two, his pensive eyes locked onto yours.

"Perhaps we are," he admits wholeheartedly. "but I'd rather be crazy with you than live a life without you."

His words quietly suspend in the air around you. The moments pass, but they feel eternal, as if time itself has momentarily paused to let the two of you be together. You're captured in his eyes, just like he is with yours. You see the emotions he's trying to convey: love, longing, and the knowledge that this moment is both a blessing and a curse.

And then without a word, you both lean in at the same time, lips meeting each other's in a kiss both softly and tenderly. It's a stolen moment; it's a secret scene that only the moon and stars witness.

His arms pull you closer, fingers dancing along your spine, as if he's trying to bridge any space that might exist between you. It's a kiss that tastes of bittersweet nostalgia𑁋something of what once was and what could never be. You savour the taste of him on your lips, knowing that once the morning light arrives, this moment may become nothing more than a distant memory.

As your lips break away, you both draw back slightly, foreheads touching, breathing heavily as you savour the precious seconds of closeness.

"You know that I'd give up everything for you," he whispers, breath warm against your skin.

You only smile, tracing your fingers gently over his lips. He leans into your touch.

"I know," You say softly. "And I would do the same for you."

"But just for tonight." He pushes back some strands of hair behind your ear. "Can we pretend that the world doesn't matter?"

You peer into his eyes, and for a moment, you see a reflection of your own pining. Your heart sinks, but it also rises. A smile drifts across your face, but it also carries a trace of sadness. Leaning in, you nearly press your lips against his once again, but then you take in a deep breath.

"Yes," is all you mutter. "I'm all yours."

That's all it takes for him to kiss you again, a bit more fervently and urgently that it nearly makes you stumble in surprise. But the second you pull back from each other, he's grabbing your hand in his, a bright smile to his face, before twirling you around and pulling you in close once more, your laughter echoing in the empty ballroom together. You share one more kiss, and then another, and another, whispers of hushed I love you's against each other’s lips as the night goes on like it will never end.

And it's with each minute that passes that only strengthens Seungcheol's determination𑁋that in some way, he will make sure you both will be together, whether that means escaping the constraints of your worlds, finding a way to keep your love alive in secret, or even sacrificing a part of himself.

With each kiss, he silently promises you that he will find a way. With each kiss, you silently promise to love and wait for him.

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[bosbas]

Chapter 4: all they keep asking me is if I'm gonna be your bride

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy!fem!reader WC: 4.2k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, a small part of the dialogue is in French, Colin in his feels asf

Summary: It took precisely two days in England for you to utterly despise Colin Bridgerton. It took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. But he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. You're set to marry someone else anyway, right?

A/N: EEEEEP the plot is finally plottingggggggg

May 19, 1816 – By now, it’s fairly obvious that the esteemed Mr. Colin Bridergton and Lady Y/N Montclair have, to put it lightly, an intense dislike for one another. How this contention began, this author does not know. However, Lady Montclair has yet to dance with Mr. Colin Bridgerton at any ball this season, despite dancing with Benedict and even older brother Anthony Bridgerton. This, coupled with the endless glares between the two and Lady Montclair’s perpetual frown around Mr. Bridgerton, indicates a less-than-friendly relationship. 

Luckily, this rivalry is not of any particular consequence to our heroine, since Lord Arthur Barlow seems on the cusp of a proposal. After a month-long courtship, it could be mere days before the Duke asks Lord Philippe Montclair for Lady Montclair’s hand in marriage. Although certainly a controversial choice from her parents to delay Y/N’s season, the wait would certainly pay off if she marries a Duke. This union, with the Duke of Monmouth’s title and the Montclair family’s extensive land ownership, would be one of the most advantageous Mayfair has seen since Charlotte Bexley, who just so happens to be Y/N’s sister, and her union to the Duke of Somerset. Shall we expect a public announcement soon? This author is certain that both families are itching for official confirmation.

Benedict thanked the bartender, sipping his brandy as he looked around at the gentlemen around him. Though Benedict and Colin had come to White’s together, the younger Bridgerton had gotten caught up in conversation with Lord Fife, leaving Benedict alone and slightly bored.

However, Louis Montclair’s appearance quickly piqued Benedict’s interest. It was the first time Benedict had seen Louis at the gentleman’s club, and he wanted to take advantage of the opportunity to find out more about your unusual relationship with Colin. It was no secret that you and Colin couldn’t stand one another, but Benedict was far too absent at social functions to piece together what had happened by himself, and he thought Louis would be the perfect person to provide some clarity.

“Louis! I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of speaking properly,” Benedict clapped him on the back as he approached him. 

Louis turned around, grinning once he saw the Bridgerton. 

“Ah, Benedict, of course. Every time my mother successfully forces me to attend a ball, you seem to be absent! One would think you’ve been avoiding me,” he said jovially.

Benedict laughed and shook his head. “Since my painting was placed in the national gallery, Mother hasn’t been too insistent on my appearance at social functions,” he explained. Then, with a cheeky smile, he added, “I believe the rivalry between our families starts and ends with Colin and Y/N.”

Louis rolled his eyes, annoyed at the reminder of your hatred toward Colin. “Lord knows what the two have against each other. Even just thinking about having to listen to my sister complain about Colin after tomorrow’s ball is giving me a headache.”

“Then a drink is in order, to be sure!” Benedict called over the bartender and asked for another glass of brandy for your brother. “Though I wouldn’t fret too much about your sister; I’m certain Colin must have done something unforgivable to elicit such a response,” he said, only half joking.

“Well, I’m sure he has. I do not doubt that,” responded Louis, grabbing his drink and thanking the bartender. 

“Oh?” prompted Benedict, surprised by Louis’ affirmative response. He led your brother to a table in the back corner, sitting down across from him. 

Taking a sip, Louis explained, “My sister might be the most irritating person I know, but she rarely holds anyone in her bad graces unless she has a good reason.”

Benedict just stared at your brother, eyebrows raised and waiting for further explanation. Had Colin acted out of line with you? He was supposed to be the sweetheart of London high society, but perhaps his brother had changed during his travels. 

Louis paused, frowned thoughtfully, and continued. “Oddly enough, I haven’t a clue why she dislikes Colin. Usually, one cannot possibly get her to stop talking about why someone vexes her, but she has evaded speaking about the subject directly thus far.” 

Spotting Colin walking toward the pair, Louis quickly stood up to greet the younger Bridgerton.

“Colin! Speak of the devil and he shall appear.”

“The devil? Your sister hasn’t rubbed off on you, I hope,” answered Colin, not entirely amused as he shook your brother’s hand and sat down next to Benedict. 

“Not at all, Bridgerton,” Louis laughed, dissipating the tension easily. “And I hope your hatred toward her is not extended toward me, too.” 

“Is it that obvious?” asked Colin, slightly cringing that his ungentlemanly behavior was public knowledge. 

Benedict snorted. “It is now that Lady Whistledown has reported on it. I don’t know how you could have possibly been so rude as to end up as the subject of the ton’s gossip sheet, but I fear for you once Mother gets her hands on today’s column.”

Colin sank in his seat in shame, embarrassed that his perfect reputation was crumbling because of you, of all people. He was supposed to be charming and easygoing, and he feared what would become of him if people started to dislike his character. 

On the other hand, your little rivalry with him would barely have any effect on you. You were strikingly beautiful and exceptionally smart, not to mention exceedingly worldly. And even if you didn’t have all those things in your favor, your dowry was large enough that any man would be stupid not to at least consider you for marriage. 

“Not to worry,” assured Louis. “I am sure your rivalry will be coming to a close sooner rather than later. It’s only a matter of time before Barlow proposes and she’ll be out of your hair. And mine.” 

Colin tensed. “Pardon?”

“Y/N is about three seconds away from being married off, so she won’t have nearly as much time to dedicate to your rivalry,” explained Louis. 

“Oh,” Colin cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Why do you say that? Has she said anything?”

Benedict set his drink down, shooting Colin a curious look. “She probably hasn’t had to. They’ve been courting for a month. If anything, it would be out of the ordinary if he didn’t propose.”

Louis nodded in agreement, blissfully oblivious to Colin’s mounting panic. 

“Well, I suppose that makes sense,” conceded Colin. “I just thought–”

He paused. After a beat, he shook his head. “But, really? Marriage? It seems so sudden,” Colin said, stumbling over his words, a growing panic in his voice slowly turning to inexplicable anger.

 “I don’t know if I would use the word sudden… Why? Did you want to marry her?” teased Louis, laughing at what seemed to be an outlandish suggestion. Then, spotting his brother-in-law, Edward Bexley, by the door, he downed his drink and stood up. “A pleasure speaking with you gentlemen, but I must greet Bexley.”

The Bridgerton boys said goodbye, but before Colin had the chance to get away, Benedict turned to his brother accusingly.

“I know Louis was joking, but do you actually want to marry her?” he asked, concerned. “You’ve been acting all out of sorts.”

“What? No,” scoffed Colin. “Not in a million years.” Then, realizing he had to explain his outrage at the prospect of you getting married, he added, “I’m just surprised anyone would consider marrying her, is all.”

“Colin,” scolded Benedict. “Have some decorum. Even if that were true, you are still a Bridgerton. Please behave like one.”

Colin’s face turned hot in shame. “You’re right; I apologize. I think I need some air,” he finally strangled out, standing up and practically sprinting toward the courtyard, his practically full drink long forgotten.

Once Colin felt the fresh air on his face, he let out a deep sigh and unclenched his fists. You getting married was supposed to be a good thing. The only person in the ton who didn’t like him would finally be gone and he could return to being the best-liked among his siblings. 

It wasn’t like he didn’t know you would end up marrying someone else. It was basically the only reason you had come to England. Besides, he saw you with Arthur at every event you attended. Why was he so upset now? Why was he surprised at all?

Rubbing his temples, Colin started pacing in the courtyard. It must have been lingering resentment toward you, he reasoned. There was no other explanation. Colin couldn’t shake the way you and the duke so easily fell into flirtatious banter while he received only cold stares and snippy comments. It was infuriating that you took Lord Barlow and his intent to marry you so seriously while you barely spared Colin a second glance when he asked you to dance for the first time.

He still remembered watching you in Hyde Park the first time you spoke with Arthur, all giggly and flirtatious while you promenaded. Exactly the opposite of how you had been with him. What would it have taken for you to look at Colin with even a fraction of the fondness with which you looked at Lord Barlow?

Then, Colin was struck by a sobering thought. Perhaps you knew that, deep down, he lacked any substance. Perhaps you were not fooled by his charismatic front and could see that he could offer you nothing. 

As a third son, Colin could scarcely boast the same riches or claim to land as the duke. But he could have loved you. And he would have taken care of you. If only he had made more of an effort with you, he chastised himself. Then he might find himself in the position of doing something of actual importance for the first time in his life.

But his need for approval had gotten in the way. And what good that had done him. You were about to get everything you wanted and marry a duke, and he was left with nothing but a bruised ego.

---

As soon as Charlotte saw Colin entering the ballroom she sighed and rolled her eyes. Now that she was the oldest Montclair sibling left in England, she was in charge of making sure you and Colin didn’t make a scene at every single event you attended. 

Usually, it was Louis who needed scolding, mischievous as he was. Charlotte had no idea why you decided to be the difficult one this season. All she knew was that Colin had the unique ability to work you up until you were engaged in a yelling match, and it was her job to mitigate this to the best of her abilities. 

Charlotte, already facing you, leaned in close to your ear. “Sois gentille, s’il te plaît. T’es une dame es tu dois te comporter comme telle,” she murmured (Be nice, please. You're a lady, and you should act like one).

Immediately realizing that Colin had arrived, you crossed your arms. “Mais Charlotte, il est trop désagréable. Il me soûle tellement !” you whined softly (But Charlotte, he’s so unpleasant. He gets on my nerves so much!).

Charlotte scoffed in disbelief at your childish demeanor. “Et toi ? Tu penses que t’es plus agréable ? Vraiment ?” (And you? You think you’re more pleasant? Really?)

You knew she had a point, but you couldn’t help the annoyed huff that escaped your lips before you turned around, choosing to face the dance floor instead. 

Violet Bridgerton was hosting a ball tonight, and it seemed like every member of the ton had made an appearance. Your mother had nearly killed you when you told her you had a throbbing headache, not accepting any excuses for missing the most important ball of the season. 

Eventually, you compromised and promised to stay for a dance with Lord Barlow and a quick greeting to the Bridgertons. You were already eyeing the exit longingly, itching to retreat to your blissfully dark and quiet room. Just a quick turn around the ballroom and you would be free, you lamented. 

Your stomach churned with a mixture of anticipation and dread as you thought of seeing Lord Barlow. While the prospect of a proposal from him should have filled you with excitement, a throbbing headache dampened your spirits and left you feeling less than enthusiastic about the impending moment. 

A proposal from a titled gentleman was what you had been working toward your whole life, and you would have liked to feel well for it. Though you liked Arthur, and the two of you got along well, you could only hope that he wasn’t planning on proposing tonight. 

You heard footsteps coming in your direction, and you turned to see Eloise, Benedict, and Colin walking over to you and your sister. 

“Y/N! And Charlotte!” Eloise exclaimed loudly upon seeing you. 

You grimaced; the pain caused by her voice overpowering the joy you felt upon seeing her. 

“Hello Eloise!" your sister greeted warmly. "Y/N has a headache, so she's only staying for a short while," she explained.

“Hello, El,” you grinned, rubbing your temples with one hand and squeezing Eloise’s arm with the other. 

“And Benedict, what a surprise!” you exclaimed, turning to greet the older Bridgerton. 

“Y/N! A good surprise, I hope. It has been quite some time, hasn’t it?” responded Benedict, smiling at you and squeezing your arm.

Your gaze shifted to Colin, who was standing next to his brother, and you tensed, already dreading the argument–or four–you would inevitably have with him tonight. You barely had the energy to stand straight tonight; you couldn’t fathom having to hold your own against Colin Bridgerton.

Eloise, sensing the mounting hostility, sighed deeply. “It’s best to leave them to it for a bit and let them get it out of their system,” she said, guiding Charlotte and Benedict away from you. 

Before Charlotte turned around, she looked back at you suspiciously. She decided you were already suffering enough from your headache and chose to leave you be, but not before raising her eyebrows at you in warning.

Clearing his throat, Colin nodded in your direction, “Lady Montclair.”

“Mr. Bridgerton,” you nodded back, much too tired to throw the first verbal punch of the night.

But as always, Colin seemed to have the unending desire to vex you. Seeing the Duke walking up to you from across the room and feeling the anger rise in his chest, he looked you up and down, searching for anything to lash out about. 

“Lovely necklace you’re wearing. It completely washes out the color of your eyes,” he commented quietly, careful that no one else would hear. 

Colin preferred to keep your quarrels private, especially after he knew Lady Whistledown had taken note of the tension between you. It wasn’t even that he didn’t want the rest of the ton knowing that you didn’t like him – it was too late for that, he reminded himself. These moments between you, although they often resulted in hurled insults and verbal attacks, felt oddly intimate to him. Despite the animosity, they were your private interludes, and he didn’t want to share them with anyone else.

You, oblivious to Lord Barlow, or anyone else for that matter, clutched your necklace, slightly embarrassed that he had noticed. It was true: the jewels did not match your eyes, and the neckpiece was so flashy that you wouldn’t have been surprised if it was making your headache worse. But your mother had insisted you wear it tonight anyway.

“I’m surprised you can look up from my neck long enough to notice the necklace’s effect on my eyes,” you countered.

Colin turned slightly red, clasping his hands in front of him. He was surprised too, to be honest. But you didn’t need to know that.

Before Colin could respond, the Duke walked up to you to greet you by placing a hand on your arm. 

“Good evening, Y/N." 

“Good evening, Arthur,” you smiled at him, headache momentarily forgotten.

Colin balked. You were on a first-name basis with the Duke already? He felt utterly foolish for not realizing that you were, as Lady Whistledown had said, only days away from receiving a proposal.

“I see you’re wearing the necklace I got you,” Lord Barlow commented, pleased. “It does wonders for your complexion.”

“Oh, yes,” you said weakly. “My sincerest gratitude for the gift.” 

You could practically feel Colin smirking next to you, and you bit your lip to keep from snapping at him. You felt an unpleasant mixture of anger at Colin’s triumph and embarrassment that he knew that the unflattering necklace had been a gift from your suitor.

Lord Barlow brushed off your thanks. “A dance, my Lady?” he offered his hand.

“I’d be delighted,” you said gratefully, placing your hand in his. Anything to get away from Colin right now. 

You had danced with Arthur enough times that you were comfortable with him, and you found yourself enjoying moving to the music as Lord Barlow held you close.

As he spun you around, he leaned down close to your ear, causing your skin to erupt in goosebumps.

“You look particularly fetching tonight, Y/N. Perhaps we might retreat to the gardens later tonight to speak some more,” he whispered.

Your eyes widened. Was he asking you to go outside for… unladylike reasons? Or was he implying he was going to propose? Perhaps both? Whatever the reason, tonight was not the night.

“I’m afraid not, Arthur,” you lamented. “I’ve got a splitting headache and will be heading home soon after our dance.” 

 “Very well,” he said with a clipped tone, leading you away from the dance floor now that the music had stopped. “Another time, then.”

“Certainly,” you replied, nervous that you had upset him.

Kissing the back of your hand dutifully, he smiled. “I hope tomorrow you will be in better spirits. I will be at the races, and it would be a shame not to see you there.”

Before you could respond, he had turned around and disappeared into the crowd.  

Exactly twenty minutes later, Colin watched as you said goodbye to his mother, hugging her tightly. He felt his heart clench. You really were the picture of grace when you weren’t around him. But it was far too late to dwell on that. 

He turned around to leave the ballroom in search of a strong drink as soon as he saw you leave through the main entrance. Now that you were gone, he saw no reason to stay. He didn’t particularly enjoy balls, even if this one was being hosted in his home, and he knew he would only grow bored now that you weren’t present to trade insults with.

Ever the dutiful son, Colin walked up to Violet Bridgerton to excuse himself before he left.

“Leaving so soon? I thought you might be more likely to stay now that Y/N is gone,” she teased. 

Colin laughed and shook his head. “I'm afraid not.”

“It’s a shame you don’t care for her,” she tsked. 

Eyes widening, Colin cleared his throat and tried to seem casual. “Why do you say that?” 

Had you said something just now? Were you having second thoughts about the Duke?

“Because I’d love to have the Montclairs as part of the family, of course. Unfortunately, Y/N is as good as married. Perhaps we can try again with Louis,” she mused. “Eloise is bound to come around to marriage at some point.”

Colin laughed weakly, not trusting himself to say anything, and gave his mother one last squeeze as he headed out to the hallway.

Finally out of the ballroom, Colin headed to the Bridgertons’ private courtyard so he could gaze at the stars, a habit he developed during his travels to guide him through rough waters that he couldn’t seem to shake even now that he was home. 

He could have taken a more direct route, but he wanted to avoid any mingling party-goers, already exhausted from the night. Colin was quite enjoying the feeling of navigating through his familiar home, realizing that he hadn't spent more than a few months in England in years.

Finally, after a few minutes of solitude, he reached the door farthest from the ballroom that led to the courtyard,

However, when he was halfway to the exit, he spotted two figures there already, partially obscured by the curtain in front of the door. He could barely make out two voices and a very flirtatious giggle. Rolling his eyes, Colin started backing away, not wanting to interrupt what he assumed to be Benedict and some very unlucky lady having an intimate moment. 

It was certainly a bold choice on Benedict’s part. The courtyard was not so private that it was hidden away from view completely, and anyone in the ballroom could have seen them. But Colin was not in the business of getting involved in his brother’s affairs. 

As he turned away, Colin heard a muffled, “Ah, I see you like to play coy…”

Well, that was certainly not Benedict. In fact, it sounded quite a bit like…Arthur Barlow?

It couldn’t be, Colin shook his head aggressively. It couldn’t.

Colin felt anger rising in his chest, his lips turned down into a deep frown. He started back toward the courtyard.

Arthur was courting you. And he had just seen you go home. He couldn’t possibly be outside with someone else, could he?

Could he?

Upon hearing a squeal, Colin reached out and pulled back the curtains slightly, only to be met with the sight of the duke’s lips on Miss Barrington’s.

Colin dropped his hand in shock, letting the curtain obscure his view once again. He could barely believe what he was seeing. Your suitor was kissing another woman. Her hands were in his hair and he was tugging at the front of her dress, rushing to untie the bows on her gown.

Colin was frozen in shock. Is this something the duke did regularly? Did this mean that you and Lord Barlow kissed? An unpleasant image appeared in Colin’s mind, but he shook it away. He needed to focus on the problem at hand.

He had caught your almost-future-husband with someone else on the balcony, and you most likely had no clue. The duke’s actions had the potential to ruin multiple futures, and Colin felt his breathing quicken as he thought of how this could affect you.

Peeking through the window once more to ensure that he really was seeing the Duke and Miss Barrington, Colin frowned deeply. He shifted his gaze to the window looking into the ballroom across the courtyard, and was satisfied when he didn’t see anyone spying on the couple. At least there was that.

Rushing back through the twisting hallways, Colin ran to speak with his mother before anyone else could catch a glimpse of what was going on outside the Bridgerton home. 

Winded as he reached his mother, Colin grabbed her by the elbow and led her outside into the hallway. 

“Need… to… speak,” he panted out.

“Colin? What on earth–? I thought you had left the ball,” came Violet’s shocked response as she placed a concerned hand on her son’s shoulder. 

Colin nodded aggressively. “Lord Barlow… with Miss Barrington… on the balcony kissing,” he said, still trying to catch his breath.

“Oh!” Violet gasped, horrified. “Are you certain?”

Colin rolled his eyes. “Obviously, Mother. What do I do? Should I go stop them? I thought he was going to propose to Lady Montclair. But Miss Barrington will be ruined if anyone finds out.”

His mother thought for a moment. “Has anyone seen them yet?”

Colin shook his head. “I don’t believe so.”

“That is the best we can hope for in this situation. I will go and stop them at once; hopefully, no one will have noticed their absence,” indicated Violet, annoyed that people felt the need to act like this at her ball in her home.

“And what of Lady Montclair?” pressed Colin. Surely you were the most important person in this situation, no?

"We ought to inform her in private, let her decide her course," she suggested, her voice low with a hint of disdain. 

Colin frowned, frustrated that the duke’s careless actions could result in you losing a suitor. 

Violet continued, "There's no need to create a spectacle, after all. A scandal of a duke’s infidelity won't bode well for anyone involved. With any luck, it went unnoticed, and Y/N can deliberate in peace. I highly doubt Lord Barlow will be forthcoming with the truth." 

Just then, the Bridgertons heard the ballroom door slam open as a chorus of giggles and whispers filled the hallway.

Colin cast a wary glance towards the departing crowd. "I fear discretion is no longer an option."

The whispers seemed to echo, disturbingly audible.

"Lord Barlow? The Duke?"

"I had heard he was set on Lady Montclair..."

"Such a shame. They appeared quite suited. What will become of her now that she's lost a Duke? I couldn't bear the humiliation."

"And Miss Barrington?"

"It seems the Duke's actions have ruined more than one woman this evening…”

—

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[newtonsheffield]

The funniest thing about Newton’s bed being in their room is the fact that Anthony and him are roomies.

Imagine Anthony, staring at Newton the first few nights of their marriage, lounging happily on a cushion in the corner of their bedroom.

“Kate, does he have to sleep in here?”

Kate raised her eyebrows, looking at Anthony in the mirror of her dressing table. “Yes? Consider yourself lucky. Normally I would allow him to sleep on the bed with me.”

Anthony frowned, “Well there isn’t room! I only… could he not move into the sitting room, or your study?”

“No, he’ll get lonely.”

Newton seemed to grin smugly at Anthony as she said it and Anthony rolled his eyes.

“I don’t think he likes me very much.”

Kate laughed, turning towards him properly now, “Neither did I when we first met-”

“A lie, surely.”

“But I warmed to you. He’ll do the same.”

She picked Newton up and kissed the dog’s forehead gently who wagged his tail excitedly at Kate’s attention but the dog quickly stopped when she deposited him on Anthony’s lap.

Anthony stared at Newton and then at Kate, “What am I to do with him?”

“Pat his head and tell him he’s handsome.” Kate winked, “The same things I do with you.”

Anthony huffed as the dog side eyed him, “Hello, Newton. Good evening. I see you’ve had your dinner already, how was that?”

The dog let out a huff and looked to Kate whining as if to say Do you see?! Do you see what I must put up with?!

“I suppose we can get along for your Amma’s sake.”

Newton didn’t look so sure and he looked downright offended when Anthony took his paw in hand and shook it.

“A gentlemen’s word is binding Newton. And we’ve shaken on it.”

Even so it still feels ridiculous when he’s sat in the drawing room with Benedict and the butler ducks his head in.

“Pardon me, my Lord, but there’s a man delivering furniture and I’m not sure where it’s to go. Lady Bridgerton had it made I believe.”

“Send him in.”

The man entered, his cap tucked under his arm, “Pardon me, Lord Bridgerton, but your Lady Wife commissioned a piece from me some weeks ago.”

Anthony’s eyes widened in surprise when the man brought in an ornate dog bed, complete with what appeared to be a feather mattress.

“Of course she did.” Anthony sighed, “I believe that’ll be going in our chambers, Humboldt.”

The butler inclined his head, “This way, sir.”

Benedict let out a wheeze as the men left, leaving the alone again. “I have to say, I find the idea of you being forced to sleep with a corgi in your rooms very diverting.”

“The dog’s a menace.” Anthony tutted. “But he makes Kate very happy, so I suppose… a small price to pay. Allegedly, he will grow to like me.”

“Like she did you mean?”

“She liked me from the beginning!” Anthony hissed, “You should have seen us riding in that park! It was very flirty!”

[holylulusworld]

Windfall

Summary: You are the last unmarried lady. A spinster.

Pairing: Royal!Stucky x Royal!Reader

Warnings: 30+ reader, modern royal au, old fashioned society when it comes to the age of unmarried women (kinda), polyamorous, throuple marriages are allowed in this world, mentions of rejection, the reader is a loner, bitchy ladies, established mlm relationship,

Square filled for @allcapsbingo: B5: Loneliness

Words: 940+

The ladies sneer when you pass them by. You don’t spare them a glance, aware that they do not like you.

People always fear what they do not understand. Like a woman who wants more in life than being her husband's arm candy.

“I don’t know why she holds her head high like that. She’s the last unmarried daughter. Even her younger sibling and almost every cousin are engaged to a gentleman. The last one will be married soon and the poor soul not getting the chance to marry one of the younger ones will settle for the windfall.”

The other women giggle at Lady Dorothy’s words. “You’re right. No one wants the old spinster. A man wants a young woman, a beautiful innocent blossom. Not a withering rose.”

You don’t take their words to heart. They are not wrong. All the gentlemen roaming your parents' house only came for your sister or the cousins your father took in after their parents passed away.

“Lady Y/N,” you sigh when Lady Sharon makes her way toward you. At least she’s kind enough to talk to you in public. “There you are!”

“My dear,” Lord Loki, Sharon’s husband greets you. He bows and presses a chaste kiss to your hand. He’s one of the few men seeing you as more than an old spinster. Loki appreciates your wit. “How have you been?”

“Fine, Lord Loki,” you reply. Unlike the other ladies in the room, you look him straight in the eyes. You’re not the kind of woman cowering in front of a man only because he has a cock between his legs. “I hope you are well too.”

“Very well,” he smiles at his wife. “My brother finally got engaged.”

“Again,” Sharon adds. “He’s a little fickle when it comes to courting for a woman. He should grow up and settle for one lady.”

“I understand him well,” you nod thoughtfully. “It isn’t easy to find the person you want to spend the rest of your life with. You should choose with your heart and mind.”

You barely escaped the nagging ladies and their gossip. Now you are hiding at the library to read another book. Loki and Sharon wouldn’t mind. They invited you to use their library when you are around and read as many books as you want to.

Nose burying in another book you don’t recognize someone sneaking inside the library.

“Stevie, you look so good today.” Your eyes flit up when you hear voices behind one of the shelves. “I can’t wait to put my hands on you.”

“Buck, we can’t. Not here.”

Frowning you listen closely. There is commotion behind the shelf, and you are sure, the men are up to no good.

You close the book and get up to find out what’s going on. If someone tries to steal Loki’s books, you will stop them at all costs.

Silently sneaking toward the shelf, you practice your speech in your mind. You’re not shy, but two men can be intimidating. Especially when they try to commit a crime.

You round the shelf, stopping in your tracks as you face the men. Your breath hitches in your throat because the men do not try to steal Loki’s books. No. They are kissing each other passionately.

You recognize the men. James Buchanan Barnes and Steven Grant Rogers. You heard rumors about them being in a relationship but never talked to them before.

You swallow thickly. What can you do? Say something? Tell them to not do such a thing at Loki’s library.

The only thing you can do is turn back around and walk toward the armchair to read your book. If you leave the library now, they will know you saw them. If you say something, they will get mad.

So, you sit back down, open your book, and start reading. You can still hear them kiss and moan but try to blend the noises they make out. It’s inappropriate to listen to their lovemaking. Not to mention sinful and forbidden.

You close your eyes and bite your lower lip. Their moans go straight to your lower half, the sacred garden you only touch at night, hidden in your bedroom.

“Aw, Bucky. Look at that pretty angel touching herself for us. Do you think we should help her out?”

Your eyes snap open as you feel eyes on you. You didn’t realize that the book slipped from your fingers and that you bunched up your skirt to slip your hand into your panties.

“I-no. I didn’t,” you lick your dry lips. “I wouldn’t… no. This is a misunderstanding.” You furiously shake your head.

The men watch your move your fingers, smirking as you cannot stop yourself from touching your clit.

“Doll, you are rubbing your sweet pearl for us, huh?” Bucky’s eyes are glued to your spread legs. “Tell me, did you like watching Stevie and me?”

You nod.

“Did it make your petals all wet?” Steve husks. “Did you touch yourself because you wanted us to touch you?”

You nod again.

“Stevie,” Bucky whispers lowly. “Do you know who she is? The angel no one dared to marry. It’s said that she’s a fiery little thing. Untamable and mouthy.”

“I’m not!” You grunt. “How dare you say such a thing!”

“Fiery and naughty, my beloved,” Steve cups his lover’s face to kiss him deeply. He moans into Bucky’s mouth, making you gasp loudly. “I guess she needs two strong pairs of hands to tame her.”

“Indeed,” Bucky smirks. “I bet her father will be so happy when she gets married to not one but two Lords making her an honest woman…”

Tags in reblog.

[zarekthelordofthefries]

BG3 Companion Sexuality Headcanons

Astarion: Pansexual. Has a slight preference for men. Has a complicated relationship with feelings of attraction and connection, so doesn't usually like thinking about his own sexual identity. Thinks Wyll is the hottest other party member.

Lae'zel: Pansexual, kind of. Doesn't really relate to sex and gender in the same way as the Faerunian companions. Githyanki socially de-emphasize romance, and all sex is generally for pleasure since Vlaakith decides who bears eggs. Lae'zel is alloromantic, but romance isn't generally at the front of her mind in a relationship. Neither is gender; ultimately Lae'zel is attracted to conviction and fighting prowess, moreso even than anything physical.

Shadowheart: Bisexual. Very slight preference for men. (EDIT: I've rotated this in my mind after people pointed it out and I think actually Shadowheart has a slight preference for women.) Remained closeted into adulthood, not because the other Sharrans would discriminate against her (they generally don't care about sexuality) but because she wanted to impress everyone with how well she could keep the secret. Also, excessively kinky.

Gale: Bisexual. Has more experience with women than with men, but that has more to do with circumstances than preference. Though physical appearance isn't not a factor, he would probably describe himself as a sapiosexual; he's attracted to knowledge, intellectual curiosity, and strong opinions. Had crushes on several teachers in wizard school.

Wyll: Bisexual. Realized he wasn't just attracted to women at a young age, and his father was very supportive. No preference between genders, but one of his favorite things to do is court gentlemen exactly the same way he courts ladies; he likes being the devoted chivalric prince to men since he knows it's less common for them to be flattered and told they're beautiful.

Karlach: Pansexual. Years of being unable to make genuine connections with anyone have made her horny for affection, kindness, and commitment. Maybe had some gender preference before going to Hell, but her time there has given her lots of time to consider basically any options. Has at least a slight crush on basically every other party member.

Halsin: Pansexual. No gender preference. Halsin has had centuries to explore his sexuality, and his robust understanding of nature gives him a non-binary perspective on gender and sex. Nothing is a casual fling for this dude, though -- if you show the slightest bit of interest in him he will dedicate his whole heart to you. And also anyone else who shows interest in him at the same time.

Minthara: I didn't actually have Minthara in my party, but from what I've seen she seems like a pretty traditional drow, and when I think of drow and sexuality I sort of imagine a reverse of ancient Greek customs; bisexuality is the norm, men are prized for their beauty and for marriagibility, but it's expected that women will also have flings with other women, and those relationships are often considered more meaningful. I imagine Minthara follows those lines, being bisexual and assuming she may one day marry a beautiful man but being more inclined to meaningful, affectionate relationships with women, due to her own prejudices moreso than preference between genders.

Jaheira: Thought she was straight for the first century of her life, but has more recently opened up to other possibilities. Isn't particularly interested in marriage or a deep interpersonal romance at this point in her life, but she has entered a state of questioning her sexuality -- she's just not super interested in experimenting with actual relationships. She's got more important stuff to do. Did have a fling with Ninefingers that neither of them tell anyone about.

Minsc: Doesn't like labels. Minsc isn't interested in finding a partner, doesn't really care about sex, and is enthusiastic about romance mainly when other people do it. He hasn't given a lot of thought to where he might fall on any sexual/romantic spectrum, but he definitely sees beauty in all of his friends. He will give you the most heartfelt and often embarassing compliments on your personality, style, and appearance. Does that mean he's attracted to you? Maybe, maybe not, but there's definitely something queerplatonic going on.