#regency!soap

[gloomwitchwrites]

Thinking about…Regency!141 AU

Regency!Price who is a widower. He lost his wife and child during childbirth. Since then, Price has lived a fairly lonely life, vowing to never remarry to not further leave himself to potential grief. He throws himself into his work and his estate, expecting to remain single and heirless until his death. But a certain someone comes stumbling into his path, and suddenly Price’s life becomes bright and vibrant again.

Regency!Soap is the rake of society. He flirts with every woman who crosses his path (married or not). He indulges in too much drink, loves a good duel, and genuinely enjoys the fact that he’s living his best life. But Soap is the first-born son. There are standards and expectations. The pressure is mounting, and he needs to find a wife fast.

Regency!Ghost who is the brooding bachelor of the bunch. He’s confident, well-mannered, and handsome, but he’s incredibly cold upon first meeting him. Many young women fancy him but he doesn’t appear to fancy them. Until he meets one who has a mouth and demeanor that easily matches his. Ghost loathes her, but he also loves her.

Regency!Gaz is the newest eligible bachelor. He’s landed. Rich. Handsome. He’s charismatic, and a favorite amongst the ladies. But Gaz is harboring a secret. One of his dearest friends, a woman he adores, has his whole heart. But she’s engaged to another. Her wedding is arriving quickly, and he might just be selfish enough to ruin it all just so he can have her.

[cutiecusp]

@misshugs @soraya-daydreams @rynbeerose @enjisbf @frudoo @yesornowaitidontknow

[callsign-bunnie]

The dresses are super pretty! What would you say soap or graves would wear?

Ahhhh, okay, so Graves is a bit weird. Laupin uses Shadow Magic, so his clothing is funky. Soap first

--

Alright, so my main fucking goal in life is making that stupid fucking mohawk (/affectionately) look less dumb in art and stories. So, for Soap, this is primarily what I imagine when I'm thinking of him.

-

Okay, so the important thing to remember about Soap, is he's a Lady in Waiting to the Queen. So while his clothing will not nearly be as regal as Rodolfo's, he still needs to be at similar level. However, he dresses similarly to Gaz in that he usually wears pants with tops similar to this one. I've put... a stupid amount of thought into how clothing in this world evolved to work, I've realized. I will share those thoughts if asked.

-

This is fairly close to what I imagine he would wear during the winter while in Artemea or even in the Red Kingdom. Like, as you saw with my references for Rodolfo, Rodolfo wore a lot of gold accenting, his dresses were a lot more glittery, a lot more eye catching, which as the Prince and then later Queen, they would need to be. He's supposed to be the one your eye moves to. However, Soap would still need to dress his part as Most Important Person to Queen. I can imagine that would be a hard balance to keep for the dress makers.

Also, it's important to keep in mind that when Soap is around the others at court, he's usually playing the role of this ditzy, naive, slutty omega who's not very smart. So, his clothing is going to be a lot more playful, a lot less regal than Rodolfo, so he can lean into this idea of the Simple Omega that the Queen is best friends with.

-

This does also mean he's dressing a lot younger than he is. He's 24 in the storyline, but he's definitely dressing more like a maiden.

-

Alright, so for Graves, his kingdom uses Shadow Magic and they still very much lean into Magic, while some of the other Kingdoms are backing away from it. So, everything they wear/use/whatever is going to be black. Like, with Aela (the Red Kingdom) being known as the Red Kingdom so most of their things are Red, Laupin uses black.

-

Like Price, Graves dresses a bit more casually for a King and the reasoning for this is that he wants one singular silhouette. He thinks it makes him appear stronger. There's also a bit of a weather influence here as the Shadow magic used by most of Laupin's citizens does keep it rather cold. The sun is rarely seen and the Kingdom is sort of in a state of eternal winter.

-

Just throwing this in there for a reference for how Gaz would dress, if he were to marry Graves. Laupin is a very traditional kingdom, he would not be allowed to wear pants like he does in Drodora. See the thicker material with cover for his arms built into the outfits? He would need that since Winter never ends.

-

Okay, so since I did Soap, I also need to do Gaz's Lady in Waiting, Malika. This is sort of what she would wear but 10x more modest and with pants. Like Soap does with Rodolfo, Malika tries to compliment Gaz, not necessarily stand out. Their goal is being a unit. Again, Gaz ultimately needs to be the one that catches your eye, but Malika is trying to compliment Gaz.

-

This^ is a good example of the shaping over her tops

I need to go back and explain my thought processes for the clothes I chose for Rodolfo, Roach, Gaz, Alejandro, and Ghost. Anyway, as I said, Malika is trying to dress her part as Lady in Waiting while still leading to Gaz getting more of the attention. She does still dress in lighter colors due to Drodora being, again, a seaside kingdom and the materials are a lot flowier, a lot less heavy.

-

This is a great example of what her tops would look like, just again, more modest.

--

I think I need to go back and explain my thought processes for how the original five that I did dress, lol

[atopvisenyashill]

an update on my hotd display - it had about as many circs as any other display (sad, altho at least it wasn't a dud) but of course the only books that got picked up WERE THE HISTORICAL FICTION and non fiction and not the sff i was trying to push. my patrons are ALLERGIC to fantasy my GOD.

anyways i'm doing a tudor one next because six the musical is here and i feel like having looked at what plantagenet and tudor non fiction we have in the collection so i understand the war of the roses better is really helping me out here. but i did not know how much mystery historical fiction there is in the tudor era laskjdfld

[atlabeth]

IT IS FINALLY DONE LMAO PRAISE THE LORD

[mydearestdarlingdead]

Count on the gay men to be talking about their employers refusal to consummate their marriage while they're having sex

[auspicioustidings]

Gaz doesn't need to understand why you're into something tbh. If he sees you reading omegaverse he's going to do some goggling and then buy a hundred blankets and pillows to set up some approximation of a nest to gently fuck you in, knot cock sleeve and all (you discover it's way too hot, gets real gross and the knot is pretty uncomfortable but enjoy that you got to experience it).

You're into Bridgerton? He's got you. Gets you a stunning outfit and hires a carriage to take you to a full regency style ball experience (you try recreate that one carriage scene and discover the fucking layers of clothing are a menace and don't allow for quickies).

He does try learn to skate so he can do the whole ice hockey player thing for you, but honestly he sucks so bad that he calls in a favour and gets Soap to play instead so you can live out the fantasy of wearing a players jersey (and despite Soap fucking frothing at the mouth seeing you in it, it's still Gaz who gets to fuck you in it that evening).

Any fantasy you have, Gaz wants you to be able to experience y'know? He goes out of his way even when he doesn't really get it because he adores you. And oh boy when he catches you reading that one dark romance with the feral forest chase scene? That one he thinks he can get fully into.

[dailyvitaminutes]

Inheritance theme - Silk & Stars

Leather boots

Waistcoats

Marble statues

And stone

Library books

Over two hundred years old

Watching ballerinas

From an

Opera box

Looking for girls in rose silk

and lace socks

When you see her

Outside, with moonlight on

her face

Tiny diamonds

Winking from her

Tiara like stars that collide when your eyes hold hers

There are fireworks

Only in books

Over two hundred years old

[chippedcupwrites]

Sansa Stark & Sandor Clegane A Girl and Her Dog

♥ all gifs & image edits are made by me quote and painting attributions under the cut ♥

A Game of Thrones by George R.R Martin │ Herbert Thomas Dicksee, The Vikings Daughter │ A Game of Thrones ep. 2x07 & Lord Byron │ Walton Ford, Gleipnir │ "One More Brevity" by Robert Frost │ A Feast for Crows by George R.R Martin │ The Secret of Moonacre (2008) and "Tuned Girl With Her Dogs" by Vivian Nguyen │ professor-pants │ John Everett Millais, The Crown of Love │ A Game of Thrones ep. 2x06 │ "The Lonely Girl And Her Dog" by Justin Gildow │ Aesop's Fables Cigarette cards (Gallaher Limited), The Wolf and the Lamb & White Oleander by Janet Fitch │ A Storm of Swords by George R.R Martin │ Douglas Malloch │ Regency oil painting, artist unknown │ A Game of Thrones ep. 2x09 & "Soap" by The Oh Hellos │ Pandemonium by Lauren Oliver │ A Change of Heart by Sonali Dev │ A Game of Thrones ep. 8x04 │ Edvard Munch, Love and Pain │ "Little Lost Pup" by Arthur Guiterman │ A Game of Thrones and A Clash of Kings by George R.R Martin & Edwin Henry Landseer, Saved │ "Little Lost Pup" by Arthur Guiterman │ A Clash of Kings by George R.R Martin │ "Start Here” by Caitlyn Siehl │ The Blade Artist by Irvine Welsh │ Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert │ A Game of Thrones ep. 2x07 & Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte │ A Clash of Kings by George R.R Martin │ Mufti Ismail Menk │ A Game of Thrones deleted scene │ John William Waterhouse, Tristan and Isolde with the Potion │ "Start Here” by Caitlyn Siehl │ A Game of Thrones by George R.R Martin │ William Chapman │ "Shrike" by Hozier │ Hans Adolf Bühler, Homecoming │ Gale Smith, Promise of Peace │ "The Taming Of The Beast" by Dean Meredith │ Walton Ford, Gleipnir │

[mrsparrasblog]

MASTERLIST

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Dark Kyle

Layover in London (NSFW)

Regency Gaz

Change my mind

John Price

Seducing Price (NSFW)

Advice from Price

Layover in Liverpool (NSFW)

Headcanon

Brat daughter

All too well

Pussy inspection

Bridgerton crossover

Rodolfo Parra

Sweet as cinamon

Jealous Rudy

Alejandros sister (NSFW)

John "Soap" MacTavish

Mrs. Mac Tavish (Angst)

Sauna Soap (NSFW)

Layover in Glasgow (NSFW)

Take me to church

Simon"Ghost"Riley

Jealousy Jealousy (NSFW)

Stripclub visit (NSFW)

Speak now

Layover in Manchester (NSFW)

Regency Simon

College Ghost

Traitor

Makarov

Makarov x Price daughter

Alex Keller

work is right now in process

POLY

Mai festival

Randome headcanons

Introducing Boyfriend

Birthday Girl (NSFW)

Fighting for you

Pregnant reader

POLY 141 and how it started

POLY 141 reaction of being the father

POLY 141 if they are not the father ( Angst)

POLY 141 x postpartum Depression

POLY 141 reaction to someone flirting with them

POLY 141 Reader on period

POLY 141 When you die because of them

You're losing me

Tf141 and their kinks

POLY Tf141 wedding

Barbie Drabble

COD Porn links

Other characters

Nikto ( heavy angst)

Longer fics

The selection

Traumatised reader who is a living weapon in a team with the tf141 (pairing is not confirmed at the Moment)

Mission save the human race (NSFW)

A fanfiction about being the last Woman in the Zombie Apocalypse

Highscool Au

Nightmares become true solider

Love triangle between Cap, Kyle and Reader with Ghoap Elements and Drama Drama Drama

Other fandome

Passenger

Eddie Wells x Reader

[yeyinde]

thank you for tagging me @ivymarquis ! i debated between this, the regency fic (fleshed out), or one of the other Price fics i'm working on (home from college for the summer and seducing hot older neighbour Price whomst you had a crush on since sixteen (aka daddy issues, the playbook), DomPrice, etc), but i think the Soap fic will probably be finished before all of those. so, here is the baby trap piece with Soap.

nothing smutty but this def captures their odd, imbalanced dynamic perfectly, i think:

“And you have no cellphone? No satellite phone?”

“Ye can check it—” he makes a flippant motion toward the glove box in front of you. “Deader than ever.”

You hesitate only briefly. Long enough to level him with a searching look that yields no results (every expression hidden behind a thick, unruly forest of overgrown hair jutting out to his Adam's apple) before you reach for the compartment, gingerly pulling it open, and—

Sometimes, things get overlooked by their surroundings. Swallowed in the vacuum. Blending seamlessly into the muddle, the commotion. Or hidden. Can you spot the mountain lion in this tumble of rock and bush?

This isn't like that. 

It sits on top of a manila folder. Sleek black and cold silver. You're not terribly well-versed in guns—the extent of your knowledge stemming mostly from formulaic crime shows aired late at night; CSI, NCIS, Criminal Minds—but you recognise this one instantly. Some sort of handgun. Police issued, you think. It's bigger than you'd expected. Looks heavier, too. 

Your heart stutters. The air galloping out of your lungs in a stammering rush. 

He makes a noise, soft and nonchalant, as if keeping handguns in the glove box of his old, burnt umbre truck is perfectly normal. 

“Fer protection,” he mumbles. You catch the jerk of his chin in your periphery. “Forgot I had it in here. Been usin’ the rifle for huntin’ mostly. Or the shotgun.”

Three guns. You swallow. “Why—” your voice comes out in a brittle whisper. You clear your throat. Pretend it helps, that you don't feel as vulnerable as you sound right now. “Why, um, why do you need three?”

“Not fae around ‘ere, are ye?” He echoes your words from earlier with a wry twist of his mouth, eyes slanting in the sunlight. “Tha’,” he takes his hand off your thigh to jab his finger at the handgun. “Is fer wolverines.” His index finger falls, his thumb juts out. He jerks it over his shoulder. “Tha’ is fer huntin’. The shotgun back home is fer bears.” 

You try to move out of the way when his hand falls back to your thigh, but the pain radiating up your leg immobilizes you. There's not much you can do in this situation but endure.

Military. Wounded in action. Three guns. Touchy. 

You're not sure what to think. It would be easier if you couldn't. 

“What do you hunt?” You ask instead, glancing out the window to the barren landscape rolling out around you. There doesn't seem to be much in the jagged hills, towering mountains. 

“Gettin’ hungry? Donnae worry, doe. Go’ tha’ pesky hare I was tryin’ tae shoot on the ledge fer dinner tonight.” 

It's not much of a comfort. The idea of being injured—by accident, he claims—to such an extent over a rabbit makes you feel a little sick. 

“That's it?” 

“I can make a mean steak outta anythin’. Stews fer tougher meat. Fish, too—whitefish, arctic grayling, and lake trout. Learned how tae make a nasty fishfry from the locals in Nahanni Butte. Bannock, too. Got berries ‘round ma cabin. Caribou, Moose. Taste better in tacos or burgers. Mountain goat, Dall’s sheep. Been eatin’ better ‘ere than ah did at home.” 

“And you're—just allowed to hunt them?” The website advised of a permit through some special outfit needed to hunt when you requested your pass into the park. Said that only aboriginals were allowed to do so. “You're not—”

“Aye,” he cuts you off with a small nod. “No huntin’ in the park. But. We're not in the park anymore.”

“Where are we?” You ask again, firmer this time. 

“I told ye. Nearly home.”

“And where is home?” 

The way he sucks his teeth makes you recoil slightly. Wet. Irritated. As if he's tired of this conversation already. 

“Close.”

You don't let his flat tone deter you. “Are we—are we still in the Northwest Territories?”

“Thereabouts.” 

It's not an answer. It doesn't reassure you in the slightest. 

You open your mouth to say so, words curling on your tongue when he jerks his chin toward the handgun, brow furrowed. 

“Thought ye wanted tae check on the satellite phone.”

His tone is severe. A growl curdling the ends, pitching it down, down. Displeasure, irritation, blooms in the gnarled petals of witch hazel when he narrows them into slits. 

[callsign-bunnie]

All's Fair - Chapter 4 - Regency AU

Getting adjusted to life in the Red Kingdom was rather hard for Roach. He was doing his best but… well, it was hard when he didn’t want to be there.

Thankfully, Lady Mactavish was rather attentive, making sure he adjusted well. And it wasn’t like he had to deal with his new husband since he’d left the day after their wedding. 

--

Roach listened to Lady Mactavish tell him about Queen Rodolfo’s plans for the garden, just kind of nodding along. 

Eventually, Lady Mactavish asked if he wanted to see the garden. Roach didn’t really care, honestly, so he just nodded. 

So, Soap nodded and stood, leading him out to the garden. “It isn’t much to look at, but I like the cool air.” Soap explained. 

Roach did not, he found. He started to shiver, his cloak a bit too thin to keep him warm. 

Soap seemed to pause and then frowned, slightly. “Are you cold, Lady Riley?”

Roach hesitated. ‘Slightly .’ He signed, honestly. No point in trying to be stoic. 

Soap smiled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think about it. Here, take my cloak.” He murmured and then pulled off his cloak, wrapping it around Roach. 

Roach was slightly surprised by the action, but he hugged the cloak around himself. He watched Lady Mactavish look around the garden, and… he understood why his husband would prefer him. Already, he had picked up how kind Soap was, how sweet. 

He went over to him. ‘ Won’t you get cold? ’ 

“No.” Soap shook his head. “I’m used to the cold. Don’t worry.”

Roach softened and nodded. He looked over Soap’s face. He was a pretty omega. Strong featured for one, but still pretty. ‘ Can we sit down? ’

Soap smiled. “Of course.” He moved to a bench and sat with him. “Are you feeling alright?”

Roach nodded, watching him. ‘ I’m alright. It doesn’t get this cold in Drodora. ’ He looked down. The cold felt like it was biting at his skin, uncomfortably. He shivered, uncomfortably. 

Soap frowned. “Can I do anything to help?”

Roach paused and looked at Soap. He suddenly got an idea in his head before moving over and curling up to him, carefully. Soap was rather warm, which was nice and helped immediately. 

“You are very cold!” Soap sounded concerned, touching his skin. “Poor thing.” Soap wrapped his arms around Roach and then his scent was surrounding him. It was soft and sweet, making him feel like he was melting. 

Roach looked up at him and bit the inside of his cheek. Well, whatever, it was obvious his husband had a connection with this omega, would it really be a crime if he formed his own connection?

He hesitated before nuzzling under Soap’s jaw, smiling when he felt him stiffen a little. “Lady Riley?” 

Roach closed his eyes, not answering. This was nice… he was always one to prefer physical connection. ‘ I know you’re likely sleeping with my husband. ’ Soap stiffened more but Roach went before he could continue. ‘ I don’t mind. I promise.’

Soap relaxed. “I’m not… I wouldn’t do that to you.”

‘ You can. I don’t mind. ’ Roach promised. ‘ It means he leaves me alone. ’

“Lord Riley really is a kind alpha-“

Roach cut him off by putting two fingers over his lips. He watched Soap blush dark and then his eyes looked down, likely ashamed. 

Roach pulled his hand away, watching Soap’s mouth open to say something and then close again. He smiled, quite amused, and then before he could think about it, he was pulling his veil down and leaning up, pressing his lips to Soap’s.

At first, Soap tensed and Roach braced to be pushed away, but then Soap was softening into the kiss. His arms went down to hug around Roach’s waist and Roach pressed more into him, reaching and grasping at Soap’s blouse. 

Fire built in Roach’s stomach and he put that fire into the kiss, biting at Soap’s lip and pulling him closer. 

Soap met him with equal amounts of heat, in turn grasping at his waist and hips. “I don’t…” Soap panted when he pulled away, though it was a small distance. “I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Roach only snorted in response, tilting his head to instead kiss and bite at Soap’s neck, right under his jaw. 

Soap whined and his scent coated over Roach, and Roach felt his hands roam over his body, grasping and squeezing at his softer bits. 

Roach pressed as close as physically possible and then he was being shoved down onto the bench. Soap moved one of his legs so both were hanging off either sides of the stone bench. Cold hit his arms were the cloaks fell off of him, though they thankfully still covered his wings, but then Soap was touching him and warmth was coursing through his body again. 

“Lady Riley, you are simply beautiful.” Soap murmured and Roach blushed dark, looking away as he was now shy. 

Soap started to push his skirts up, his hands sliding up his thighs as he did so. The touch sent shivers through Roach, making him keen into the touch. 

“Can I touch you?” Soap asked, watching him. 

Roach quickly nodded ‘ Please. ’ He repeated the sign a few times to show how desperate he was for it. 

Soap’s hand plunged between his legs and two fingers pushed into Roach, who was already slick and ready for him. 

Roach moaned and quickly pulled his legs further apart, rolling his hips against Soap’s hand. Soap’s fingers curled inside him and pleasure shot up Roach’s spine. 

A moment later, Soap leaned down to kiss him again, his other hand shoving further up his dress to feel over his abdomen and then down to wrap around his cock. “Lady Riley, you smell so good…”

Roach wrapped his arms around Soap, scenting him and then gasping as Soap’s mouth traced down to his neck, biting and sucking small marks. He was grateful he wore a veil, since that meant he wouldn’t have worry about them being visible. 

Soap pushed another finger inside him and then started to move them in and out at a faster pace. 

Roach moaned and gasped before reaching his own hand, trying to feel for Soap. 

Soap had to move his body but then Roach could reach and he pushed his hand down Soap’s trousers, wrapping it around his cock and moving it in time with Soap’s hand between his legs. 

Soap moaned into his neck, his movements stuttering slightly. “Ah, Lady Riley-“

Roach Pat him and used his free hand to spell out his name. 

“Roach?” Soap tilted his head. 

Roach nodded and pulled his hand back to fully sign. ‘ You can call me that. ’

Soap nodded a little and smiled. “Okay…” he leaned down and kissed Roach, softly, again. “Can I fuck you, Roach?”

Roach blushed dark red but he nodded, starting to pull his dress up so Soap could. 

Soap worked down his trousers and then moved so he was between Roach’s legs. Roach put on leg on Soap’s and then Soap was pushing in. 

Roach moaned and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. He reached and grasped at Soap’s arms, which were holding onto his waist. 

“Sound so pretty…” Soap moaned as well, rocking his hips. 

Roach blushed, shy again, and closed his eyes. He arched his back as Soap started to fuck into him, rolling his hips to meet him.

Soap leaned down, again, to kiss him, pushing his tongue into Roach’s mouth. Roach gladly met him, arching into him at a sharp thrust. It wasn’t as filling as an alpha, but it was more than pleasurable enough. 

Soap moved his mouth and bit at his neck again, moving and wrapping his arms around Roach’s middle. 

Roach bared his neck for Soap, wrapping his arms around his shoulder and continuing to desperately rock back against him. When Soap pulled away, slightly, Roach took the opportunity to attack Soap’s neck, biting and sucking at the skin that was there. 

Soap moaned “Roach” again and his movements became more frantic. All too soon they were both cumming together, crying out at equal volume. 

Soap collapsed on top of Roach, afterwards and then he pulled the cloak up and around them. “No one will come by here, everyone generally stays out of the garden.”

Roach nodded and nuzzled him, hugging him again. He wasn’t sure he wanted to lay on this bench for too long, but he didn’t move, yet. 

As it was, Soap was the one to move first, getting up. When he did, Roach yawned. ‘ I see why my husband likes you. ’

Soap laughed and then helped Roach up, adjusting his dress for him. “Please come to me if you need anything… I want us to be friends…”

Roach softened and then nodded. ‘I will.’

-

Soap was apparently taking a nap and Roach was continuing to avoid Rodolfo. He was starting to feel bad, because, according to Soap, Rodolfo was really trying hard to make Roach comfortable there. But… he still resented the Queen.

So, he was in the library. It would be easy to avoid him, anyway, since King Alejandro had returned again. Lord Riley would return in the following days, as well. Their return deeply worried Roach, as he was worried something had gone wrong with his brother… What if Alex and Farah had been caught?

Worse, what if something had gone wrong and Kyle had been killed? King Alejandro had seemed rather grave when he returned, as Soap had told him… So, his mind had already ran through the worst scenarios. Even still, he was confident if something horrible had happened to his brother, he would have already been informed. 

Hopefully.

Roach looked over the books in the library. Soap had also already informed him that Lord Riley apparently had had most of the library set up. Most of it was his plans. Roach… wasn’t sure how to handle each of these conflicting facts in his mind. Lord Riley was supposedly violent… cruel. But, he also apparently valued knowledge and being well learned. He’d been kind when Roach had showed off his magic, and even still… even when he was ignoring Roach for Soap, he’d looked at Soap with such a delicate softness… 

Lord Riley was an enigma, Roach had decided. He was everything and nothing and Roach wasn’t sure how to handle that. Regardless, it didn’t matter. Soap would keep him distracted and Roach would likely demand Soap come once his father died and they were crowned. 

Then, Roach would figure out some way for Soap to keep Lord Riley occupied while ran the kingdom. Or… disappeared. Ha, what a story? A queen who ran away… He wondered what they’d say about him? He just couldn’t handle it. Or Proof fae just aren’t good.  

Roach sighed, perking up when he found an encyclopedia on insects. He pulled the book out of shelf and started to look through it, delighted to see pictures had been sketched into the pages. Then, he started to notice a little “JM” under each sketch. They’d been sketched over the words, so they had to be by a reader.

JM… He wondered who that could be? Someone in the castle? If it was someone after Lord Riley built the library, then they likely still lived there. He wondered how he would find out. 

He didn’t really know anyone by the name of JM. King Alejandro Vargas would be AV and Queen Rodolfo would be RP or RV. Lord Riley’s full name was Simon Riley, but he had a nickname, so wouldn’t he sign his things with ‘Ghost’?

And… well, he knew Lady Mactavish was an M but he was realizing he didn’t quite know Soap’s first name. He was positive he’d been told at some point, but he just couldn’t remember. Regardless, wouldn’t Soap had told him when he was telling him about the library that he’d mention that he had drawn in some of the books? Also, wouldn’t Soap sign them ‘Soap’?

Roach shook his head and moved to put the book on a table, pouring over the drawings. Many of them were so accurate and he could only wonder how the artist had been able to see so many details… He touched the page of a shieldbug drawing and the bug was then peeling itself off the page. He wondered why his magic was so much stronger there… The only place he could imagine it would be stronger would be Artemea. 

The shieldbug marched around the book and Roach laughed, softly, finding it adorable. Even if he controlled it, the way it moved was so funny. It danced around and then it was laying down to sleep and Roach continued to look at the pages. 

He supposed he could live like this. Finding his own joy. He’d made friends with Soap, and even if they were not strictly friendly, he wasn’t alone… Maybe this wasn’t so awful. 

Maybe.

Roach jumped when he heard someone clear their throat. “My apologies, Lady Riley.” The person who had entered the library spoke. “My name is Lord Arthaim. I wasn’t aware someone else would be in the library.”

Roach looked away and shook his head, closing the book and hugging it into his arms. The stink bug poofed and he went to leave, but paused when he was stopped.

Lord Arthaim smiled, softly. “It’s alright. You don’t have to leave.”

Roach hesitated before nodding, carefully returning back to the table and setting the book down.

Lord Arthaim appeared to watch him before he bowed and then went to a shelf.

Roach, in turn, watched him. Then, he turned back to his book, turning to a new drawing and looking over the detail. It really was so beautiful… He touched over the drawing, and again his mind started to wonder just who JM was… 

If they knew enough about insects to make these drawings so detailed, surely they could be friends. Hopefully, they were an omega. He could make more insect illusions so they could use them to make more sketches. He’d love that… 

“Do you like insects?” Roach jumped slightly at hearing Lord Arthaim speaking again. He hesitated before nodding. “I see.” Lord Arthaim nodded. “What is your favorite insect? You can use the book to show me, if you like.”

Roach hesitated and then he flipped through the pages, finding the Luna Moth. His eyes caught on the massive sketch that was there, but he tried not to focus on it, or on how excited it made him. Instead, just lifting the book and showing Lord Arthaim.

He was partial to Luna Moths. Maybe because of his wings… He felt them flutter under his cloak. He’d switched to a black one, since most of his wardrobe had become red and black, to match his husband. He liked his pale green dresses from before, but he would admit that red and black suited him. 

His current dress was red and black, infact. A red base with black lace detailing over it. It was a bit longer and poofier than he liked, but he was 20, he couldn’t continue to dress like a young maiden. Especially not since he was married. 

“Ah, the Luna Moth. Excellent choice. They only live for a week.” Lord Arthaim smiled, a kind smile, and then nodded. 

Roach nodded, having known that. They also didn’t have mouths and were a type of silk moth, though they didn’t produce enough silk to really be useful for humans. They didn’t have to be, though. Roach didn’t think so, anyway.

He looked at the book and then touched the page, letting the luna moth peel itself off the pages. It was much bigger than a luna moth tended to be, but it was equally graceful, fluttering around himself and Lord Arthaim.

“What a beautiful talent.” Lord Arthaim nodded, his eyes following the moth. 

Roach blushed bright red under his now black veil, having worn this one to match his dress. He made more moths, having them dance around each other and then made them disappear into shimmers of stars, which fell over them like a light rain. 

Lord Arthaim chuckled, shaking his head. “Simply magnificent.” He murmured. “Lord Riley does not appreciate his new wife nearly enough.”

Roach frowned, blinking. What an odd comment… He stared at Lord Arthaim, trying to make out what he could have meant by that. 

“Oh, I… Well, I thought you would have heard by now. He apparently spoke to several knights. Told them how glad he would be to be off in Drodora… I thought it was cruel. And stupid. Many alphas would die to have a bride as beautiful as you and yet he just throws his away.” Lord Arthaim shook his head, sounding genuinely irritated for Roach.

Roach’s heart hurt. He was glad Lord Riley was away from him, but he wasn’t boasting about it to the maids and ladies… He looked down at the book, clenching his hands into fists. It seemed Lord Riley was intent on humiliating him. 

Lord Arthaim was watching him. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

Roach wasn’t quite sure he agreed with that, but he nodded a thanks all the same. Whatever, he wouldn’t let Lord Riley win. He didn't care that his new husband hated him. He had expected that. 

Lord Arthaim crossed around the desk to stand in front of him. “Are you alright?”

Roach frowned, confused. But, he nodded, since he honestly was. It hurt, but it would pass. 

“Good. You shouldn’t let this hurt you.” Lord Arthaim nodded.

Roach almost could have laughed. This was an odd situation. He wasn’t sure he understood what was going on. Instead, he again nodded a thanks and then went to gather his book up, again. 

However, before he could turn, Lord Arthaim had suddenly lunged forward, his mouth against Roach’s. It took Roach too long to realize what was going on and then he was shoving Lord Arthaim off, a sound of disgust erupting from him. 

Absolutely not! His husband mistreating him was not an excuse for Lord Arthaim to take advantage of him! He glared at Lord Arthaim and went, again, to pick up the book and just leave.

He gasped when he was shoved against the table, Lord Arthaim pushing him against it. Fear started to fill his chest and he hit his hands against the table, trying to use them to push back against Lord Arthaim so he could get let go.

“Stay still… It’ll be okay.” Lord Arthaim’s mouth was then on his neck, wet and disgusting and Roach wanted to be let go.

He made a frightened noise, swinging his hand back to hit at Lord Arthaim’s side. He wanted to be let go! He wanted to be let go! He looked around the table for any kind of weapon, struggling when his wrists were grabbed and yanked back, wrenched behind his back. 

His chest was suddenly hitting the table and he cried out, shaking his head. Shine! Shine! He did his best to light his entire body up, hoping he had enough energy to waste so he could blind Lord Arthaim or disorient him or something, but to no avail.

“Aw… It really will be okay, just stop fighting and it’ll be alright…” Lord Arthaim cooed.

Roach shook his head and then sucked in a breath to scream, being cut off by his head being lifted and then slammed against the table. His vision went slightly blurry and he tried to get a handle on his surroundings again but… everything had slowed.

He started to cry as he felt his cloak being moved to the side, knowing his wings would be discovered only moments later. And, in fact they were. 

“What’s this?”

Roach couldn’t even really thrash if he wanted to. He cried as his dress was then torn and his cloak yanked from his back. 

Roach, you have to fight this… You can’t let this happen! Roach heard Kyle’s voice in his head. His brother wouldn’t let this happen to him… Roach used his strength to lift himself up and then he turned around, slamming all of his weight into Lord Arthaim, trying to run away once he was knocked down.

He cried out in pain when his wings were used to yank him back and he went still, not wanting to risk his wings being yanked from his back. 

“Fuck this. I shouldn’t even be waisting my time on a dirty fae like you.” Lord Arthaim snarled and then he grabbed Roach’s arm yanking him out the door.

Roach was quick to try to hold his dress up, fighting him. 

“Don’t you want to see your king and queen??” Lord Arthaim laughed, his grip too strong to fight. “They should know what lurks in their court.”

Roach froze with terror. No, no, no!

[the-californicationist]

WIP Game

Thanks for the tag @ethereal-night-fairy

Rules: In a new post, post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless of how nondescript or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet and tell us about it!

I have taken a big step back lately because of my work, but I do have some things I'm slowly putting paragraphs into.

Long Fics in Progress

Ursa Major - Bear!Price x Female Reader - John Price is a hot, lumberjack werebear. This is the most self-indulgent fic I've ever written, and I will not apologize. Updates are weekly, for the most part.

The Sin Eater - Monster!Price x Female Reader - A dark, monster fic based off of the Jekyll and Hyde paradigm. Co-authored with amazing @vampirekilmerfic, but updates are extremely slow. It's a hard fic for me to write.

The Window - Poly!141 x Female Reader - Pregnancy fic with a poly/reverse harem theme. This should've stayed a one-shot, honestly. I don't know what the heck I'm doing with this.

The Fox & The Hound - PornStar!Soap x Female Reader - I love this fic so much. I should just stop, but I can't let it go. For some reason, this story just lives in my heart rent-free.

My Brother's Keeper - Regency!Price x Female Reader - Unpublished arranged marriage childhood friends-to-lovers dual virginity fic with a huge twist. It'll probably come out midsummer? I think.

Doubt Thou the Stars - Space!Price x Alien!Female OC - Unpublished space fic where John Price is basically Malcolm Reynolds from Firefly. Self-indulgent and weird. I might never publish it because it's so odd.

The Cube - Ghost x Female Reader - We don't talk about The Cube. But, it's there... lurking.

One-Shots in Progress

Down the Hatch - Gaz x Female Reader - Gaz convinces you to fuck him inside a tank.

Pas de Deux - Ghost x Ballerina!Female Reader - Inspired by an ask, but a bit of a divergence from the original request. Ghost falls for Gaz's sister as she performs as Odette in Swan Lake.

Against Medical Advice - Price x Female Reader - Inspired by an ask where Price gets shot in the thigh and ends up convincing you, his medic, to get nasty with him anyways.

A Knight's Errand - Medieval!141 x Female Reader - In order to avoid a dangerous foreign king from being eligible to marry their queen, her knights work hard to ensure that she is with-child, securing her position on the throne. (I think this fic already exists? I don't remember the name of it, though. But, that's why it's unpublished. Maybe it's a two-cakes situation, but I don't want to publish it and have it be so similar that it repeats their original idea.)

I hope some of these are interesting to y'all! Feel free to ask me about them if you have questions.

No pressure tags: @vampirekilmerfic @gemmahale @kit-williams @deadbranch @ceilidho

[a66-1]

♡𝔐𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱♡

♡ 𝘏𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴! 𝘌𝘮𝘰𝘫𝘪 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘸 ♡

🔥- Spicy/Nsfw

🌧️- Angst/Upsetting

💗- Fluff

💞- Related to character! Reader

created - 4/13/2024

updated - 5/23/2024

♥︎ 𝓢𝓲𝓶𝓸𝓷 '𝓖𝓱𝓸𝓼𝓽' 𝓡𝓲𝓵𝓮𝔂 ♥︎

dearly beloved? 💗

{Drabble about a tired you needing Simon}

Whiskey. Neat, please. (part 1)💗🌧️

Part 2 (Coming Soon!)

Part 3 (Coming Soon!)

{Based off Too Sweet, the lovely song, you as a bartender meet Simon during a busy shift. You seem way too sweet for him..}

i like the way you kiss me 💗

{Drabble about Simon coming back after a while, but he's the same sweetheart you knew}

our routine 💗

{late night dabble abt Simon coming home} ❤️

break a neck🌧️

{short read-toxic reader cheats ⚠️}

Grump. 💗

{ask! about grumpy reader x grump Simon.}

Childhood Best friend Simon. 💗

{You leave Manchester at 8, and one day when Simon has a mission in the US...}

starving. 🌧️💗

Part 1!

Part 2!

???

{a very insecure reader meets a willing simon..]

Lay me down💗

{aftercare w/ simon]

Tan lines💗

{drabble abt heading to the beach}

Bittersuite 🌧️

{Based off the song by billie ellish}

Lunch? Lunch.💗

{Fem!Simon based off the song by billie ellish}

Don't Be So Stupid🌧️

{angst}

Because of You

part 2

part 3

{Regency!Simon x Fem!Regency!Reader}

♡ 𝓙𝓸𝓱𝓷 𝓟𝓻𝓲𝓬𝓮 ♡

Caretaker!Reader x John 💗

{Request drabble-- Kitty lover reader!!}

♥︎ 𝓙𝓸𝓱𝓷𝓷𝔂 '𝓢𝓸𝓪𝓹' 𝓜𝓪𝓬𝓣𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓱 ♥︎

Soap x American!Reader💗

{You like making fun of his accent because.. Scottish people don't exist}

𝖳𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝗒! 𝖧𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖺 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾? 𝖱𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗂𝗍! 𝖨'𝗆 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇! Here are my rules for request!

bye, my babes!

[atlabeth]

(not so) simple finale - anthony bridgerton

masterlist

summary: coercing lord bridgerton into pretending to court you to avoid the affections of a baron is very simple — that is, until it isn’t.

a/n: so um ignore how long every part of this took to come out. i have no excuse. anyways we are finally here at the end!! almost 10k words of proper regency soap opera type shit and it all ends happily i promise. i hope u enjoy because damn this was supposed to be a short one shot and ended up being over 40k lmao

wc: 9k

warning(s): angst, reader is a lil insecure, slightly steamy make out scene, happy ending<333

You’d never been this restless before. 

Your dreams had a part to play in it. They insisted on tormenting you, though not in the usual way. 

No, these dreams would have been pleasant had they come any sooner. For Anthony Bridgerton appeared in near every single one, with his charming smile and soft eyes and hair you always desired to run your fingers through. 

He would smile at you, offer his arm and walk with you all around the park and the city as you talked for hours. He would compliment you, and you would compliment him, and he would court you as a perfect gentleman would. 

He would kiss you, ravenously so. His hands would touch you where no one had touched before, leaving trails of fire in their wake, would unearth feelings you never could have imagined. He would revere you, near worship you, because in this world you never made such ill-advised choices. In this world, you never dragged him into a worthless scheme that ended with a ruined reputation and a broken heart.  

In this world, he loved you just as much as you loved him, and you never did a single thing to make him doubt that. 

But you were not there. 

You were here, in the real world. Where you were in the midst of reaping what you spent a whole season sowing. 

You were roused from that less than peaceful attempt at sleep—though thoughts of Anthony took longer to disappear—by the opening of your door, and despite your visitor attempting to be quiet, you found your eyes fluttering open against your will.

“Oh, dearest,” your mother lamented, “I did not mean to wake you. I apologize; I merely wanted to check on you. I will return later—please, rest.”

“No,” you murmured, and you rubbed your eyes as you pushed yourself into a sitting position. Small movements were much easier, which at least meant a step in the right direction. “No, stay. Please.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. When you nodded, she closed the door lightly behind her and sat on your bedside, laying her hand over yours. 

She whispered your name, her voice already thick with tears that she was trying to hide. “I am so glad you are alright.” 

“You say that every time you come in here,” you said.

“And I will continue to say it.” She shook her head. “You nearly perished. You should consider yourself lucky I am not in here at all hours of the day.” 

You managed a smile, and she sighed. “How do you feel?”

“Better,” you said. “I am still sore, but much better.”

“Good,” she said. “All I can ask is that you continue to get better.” 

“The rest has certainly been nice,” you said. “Am I still a true lady despite my late wakings?” 

“You have always been a true lady,” your mother assured with a slight smile. 

“I believe you may be the only one that still thinks so.” 

“If you are feeling ready, there is a ball in a fortnight,” she said. “It could be a good way to garner good will again.” You gave her a look, and she held up her hands. “I understand how you feel, but your presence is important. There are… rumors floating about, and we must lay them to rest.” 

“Rumors,” you muttered wryly. “That your daughter is an ungrateful wench and will die a spinster?” 

She said your name sternly, and you shook your head. “I read what Whistledown wrote about me—she’s likely written a hundred more. I do not care what any of them think of me, Mother. I am only sorry for the pain it has caused you and Father, and the Bridgertons.” 

“The Bridgerton name is strong enough to weather scandal,” she said. “We have to work a bit harder. And making an appearance in society again, especially with Lord Cardew by your side, will help.” 

You suppressed a scoff at the mere thought of him. You’d been granted such a reprieve from Lord Cardew because of Anthony’s influence, and while you were recovering, no one but family was to see you. But soon—very soon—he would be your entire life. 

“That brings up another question,” your mother said wryly, and when you met her eyes she was giving you a very pointed look. “Are you still sure about this?” 

No, you wanted to say. You couldn’t be less sure about Jonathan Cardew. But you’d dragged your family into this mess of yours, so it was your duty to fix it. 

Plenty of women married much more dreadful men every year. You should have considered yourself lucky that a man of his breeding, of his standing was interested in you at all—especially after the season you’d spent distancing yourself from him and the scandal you’d caused. 

“...Yes,” you finally said. “I am sure.”

Your mother sighed and said your name. “You are sure? You have not reached out to Anth—” 

“There is nothing left between us,” you interrupted. “I know it is not the best situation, and I know it is my fault, but I am making the best of it. All I ask is that you support me. It is hard enough attempting to make my way through this world—I need my mother to be there for me rather than constantly pushing against it all.”

“...Of course,” she said quietly. “And I am so sorry that I have ever done differently. My dear, all I ask in return is that you understand me, as well as the decisions I make. All I want is the best for you, and I know that marriage is not what you desire, but there are things we must do.” 

“Of course,” you said, and your echoing words spurned a small smile from her. “I am sorry that I have always fought you so much. All I could see was my hatred for any kind of union, but all I managed was hurting you and Father, as well as myself, and— and I cannot think of any apology that will be enough.” You shook your head with a mirthless laugh. “I’ve no idea how you put up with me for so long, truly.” 

“I’ve never had to put up with you,” she said. “I realize I may not have done the best job at showing it, but— but I love you more than anything in this world. Everything I have ever done has been for you, my darling. You are the future of our name, and I know you will do an excellent job at carrying on our legacy.” 

“Truly?” you asked softly. 

Your mother nodded as she took your hands and smiled at you. “Truly. Nothing in this world can change my love for you. You are our greatest accomplishment.” 

You swallowed the sudden lump in your throat as you smiled as well, and you pulled your mother into a hug. She reciprocated, and tears filled your eyes. You’d missed the comfort of her presence so dearly. 

“I love you too,” you whispered. 

-

“Are you alright, my lady?” 

Your lady’s maid's words snapped you out of the stupor you’d found yourself in, and it was all you could do to attempt a smile. 

“Yes, Julia,” you said. “Quite alright.” 

Her brows furrowed as she draped a pendant around your neck, the cold metal turning your exhale slightly shaky. “Pardon my plainness, my lady, but you are not believable in the slightest.” 

“You have been around me for far too long,” you said dryly. “I request another maid, one that cannot read me so easily.” 

Julia offered a wry smile. “You are stuck with me for now, my lady. What is weighing so heavily on your mind?” 

You stared yourself in the mirror as you turned the question over. It was not as easy to answer as it should have been, not when everything was so out of order. Not when you hardly recognized the reflection staring back at you, wrapped in orange silk and adorned in jewels courtesy of Lord Cardew. 

You were not yourself—you were to be Baron Jonathan Cardew’s wife, a baroness and status symbol to hang off his arm and smile prettily, and Baroness Cardew was who stared back at you. 

Only a few more balls remained until the season came to an end, and though Lord Cardew was doing your family an immense service by giving you a second chance, he did not want to wait much longer to make it official. 

It was all planned out. Your relationship would truly enter the public eye tonight with your dances, you would promenade in open parks to have as many eyes on you as possible. He would call on you and your meager staff would be encouraged to spread rumors. Another ball would pass together, enough to hopefully weather some of the scandal you’d created, and then…

Then, he would propose. 

You would accept. 

And the fate you’d been so intent on avoiding would be sealed. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat, blinking back the impending tears. 

“I am nervous,” you admitted. “My decision didn’t exactly feel… real. Not until I was standing at the modiste getting fitted for this gown with one of Cardew’s maids. And all this jewelry…” Your fingers trailed across the raised designs on the pendant. “It makes it even more so.” 

“I can only imagine,” Julia said. “He has certainly put in effort.” 

“And yet it all feels hollow.” You moved away from the mirror and stopped in front of your vanity. The light blue reticule sitting near your jewelry box felt as if it was mocking you. 

Julia said your name with a sigh. “You made your choice. You pushed him away.” 

“I know,” you murmured, tracing the embroidery with your finger. “But feelings do not disappear so quickly.” 

“He wrote letters,” she said. “After you moved from Bridgerton House to recover here, after I refused his calling on you for the hundredth time, he wrote letters and delivered them by hand.” 

You picked at a loose strand of white thread on the purse, jaw clenched so tight you thought your teeth might crack. 

“He told me he did not care if you didn’t want them,” Julia continued softly. “He just needed you to know how he felt.” 

“This is how it has to be,” you finally said, voice shaking. 

“And what makes you think that?” Julia challenged. “You believe you have to live a life of misery simply because half the ton does so in the name of reputation and riches?” 

“Two things I no longer have any of,” you murmured. “Cardew’s pedigree is enough to get both back for my family. It is my duty, Jules, and I can no longer hide from it.” 

Your lady’s maid looked at you with desperation in her eyes when there was a knock on the door followed by your mother calling your name. You nodded your permission and she opened it.

“Lady Worthing,” she said, curtsying just so to your mother. “I’ve finished getting her ready—I’ll give the two of you some time alone.” 

“Thank you, Julia,” your mother said with a smile. She turned back to you, her eyes softer than ever as she moved forward and set her hands on your shoulders. 

“My darling,” she said, “you look so beautiful. I did not lie when I called you the crown jewel of our family.” 

You couldn’t help but smile at her compliment, trying to ignore the tightness in your chest. “Thank you, Mother. I’m glad I can make you proud.” 

She murmured your name, turning you so you faced the mirror. You saw yourself more this time, feeling more assured with your mother standing behind you holding all the stars in her eyes. 

“I have always been proud of you, darling,” she murmured. “Even if I did not show it in the best way. I love you more than words can express. I meant it when I said you are our greatest achievement.” 

You let out a shaky breath, leaning back against her. She allowed you to sink into her and you felt the tears brimming in your eyes. 

“...I’m afraid, Mother,” you whispered. “To marry. To be a wife.” 

She was silent for a moment, busying herself with adjusting your jewelry before she spoke.

“I was afraid too,” she admitted. “I hardly knew your father outside of a few promenades, and one lovely bouquet of flowers. It was almost fully arranged by our parents. But when he proposed, he vowed to always be my friend, and to always take care of me.” 

“Has he?” you asked. 

“Yes,” she said. “We did not love each other on our wedding day. But he has always been kind to me, and he has always advocated for me, and we have always been there for each other. We love each other now, in our own way. And,” she smiled, smoothing down the lace on your sleeves, “together, we brought you into the world. I would do it all over again if it meant I would get you in the end.” 

You could not imagine considering Lord Cardew a friend, nor the opposite. He saw you as just another pretty jewel to adorn himself with. 

Anthony saw you as a friend— as more. He always listened to what you had to say, always entertained your jokes with some of us own, never talked down on you. He saw you as an equal. 

 “I do not know if any woman is prepared to marry,” she finally said. “Even those that marry for love still have initial doubts. There are so many expectations of our behavior when we are told so little of what we must actually do.” 

“How do you do it?” you asked. “You married a man you didn’t know. You raised a child. You held face against a society that shamed you for only having a daughter.” 

“All you can do is trust in yourself, and in those around you,” she said. “If you are with the right person, everything will feel as natural as breathing. You will not care what anything thinks of you, because there is only one opinion that matters.” 

There was one man you felt natural around, one who you felt you could speak your mind around and not be judged. One man that you’d fallen in love with, that surely hated you in return for what you’d done to him. 

Your voice came out as little more than a whisper. “What should I do, Mother?” 

“You know what you must do,” she said softly. “All I can do is support you.” 

-

You’d rubbed your palms on your dress at least fifteen times since you’d arrived. A fruitless effort, considering you were wearing gloves, but you could not stand still. 

Your conversation with Lord Cardew had taken everything out of you, your dance with him even more so—an especially damning fate seemed ahead of you. But you could tune him out well enough, at least. 

It was an entirely different deal when the Bridgertons showed up. 

Violet walked in arm and arm with Anthony and Benedict, and Colin had a loose hold on Eloise. And to make matters worse, Daphne Bridgerton, alongside her husband the Duke of Hastings, were making an appearance. What an honor, to have the chance to embarrass yourself in front of such highly ranking nobles. 

Eloise branched off immediately after they passed the threshold, much to the protests of her mother, but your mother immediately pulled you in their direction. You could only imagine her thoughts—if she could get the Duke of Hastings touting for the Worthings, that would make things much easier.  

Anything for the optics, you supposed. But when you met Anthony’s eyes for the first time, you had to avert your gaze. He just looked so damn sad. 

“It is good to see you again, Violet,” your mother said. “And it is an honor, Duke and Duchess Hastings.” The both of you curtsied, and you could see the Duke’s slight smile. 

“I consider it my honor to meet the woman who has been the center of such conversation this season,” he said. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, and thankfully Violet stepped in. 

“It is good to see you as well, Cecilia.” Violet smiled as she looked at you. “Especially you, my dear.” 

You bowed your head. “Thank you, Lady Bridgerton, Duke Hastings. I am grateful to be here.” 

Benedict smiled, the notion warmer than anything you deserved. “You look lovely, Miss Worthing. Especially for someone who escaped death with such recency.”

Anthony’s eyes remained on you the entire time, and more than anything you wished you could read this mind. The man probably hated you, and he had every right to do so. You just wished your feelings for him weren’t so insurmountable. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat and smiled as believably as you could. “Thank you, Mister Bridgerton. You also look well.”

Your mother nudged your shoulder and your gaze met Anthony’s once more. He still hadn’t looked away from you. 

You bowed your head once more. “Lord Bridgerton. It… is good to see you.”

No wonder you actually ended up falling in love with Anthony. It was the only way anyone could believe this ruse—you were quite an awful actress. 

Anthony lowered his head as well, his poise stiff. “A pleasure, Miss Worthing.”

“We’re glad to see you’re doing well,” Violet said, her smile a bit thin. You could only imagine the conversation that would occur between her and your mother later. “You caused us all quite a scare.”

“Oh, Anthony was so worried,” Daphne said, pressing a hand to her chest. “I’m thankful we have the chance to attend this ball so I could see you in person.” 

“I’ve recovered well,” you nodded, and you looked at Violet. “My family and I thank you immensely for your kindness and your doctor’s care. We’ll be in your debt endlessly.”

“There is no need for that,” Violet said. “It is enough that you are still here.”

Your cheeks burned but you tried to smile anyways. You wanted to burrow into a hole and never come out. It seemed the Bridgertons were capable of endless grace in public when they surely had to despise you. 

“Eloise has run off somewhere over near the strings,” Benedict provided in the silence. “I’m sure she would appreciate your companionship tonight.”

You glanced at your mother and she nodded, and your smile at Benedict was much more genuine. “Of course. I’ve been meaning to talk with her.” 

You mouthed thank you to him when your mother could not see, and he nodded. He’d always been so decent to you. 

You could not help but glance at Anthony as you went, and his gaze followed you. He would resent you if he had any sense, but it seemed the opposite—the sadness in his eyes was fatal.

You took a glass of lemonade from the refreshments table when you passed it, needing something to do with your hands. You found your way to Eloise’s side soon enough, and her eyes lit up when she caught sight of you.

“It is so good to see you,” she breathed. “I’ve only just arrived, and I’ve already had to fend off suitors. They just cannot seem to understand I hold such little care for them.” 

“I am just as glad to see you,” you admitted. “I do not think I can get through this night alone.” 

“I cannot imagine why,” Eloise said sarcastically. “I’ve heard the news. And I must say, it is your poorest decision this season.”

Your laugh was mostly out of surprise, and you nearly dropped the flute of lemonade you were holding. You were on edge far more than you expected—you almost wished your glass was full of champagne. 

“At least somebody is speaking plainly,” you murmured, your gaze distant and unfocused. “I think the rest of your family must hate me, but they’re all too kind to say it.” 

Eloise frowned. “Why would any of them hate you?” 

Your grip tightened on your glass. “Because I caused an immense scandal and then ended things with Anthony?”

She huffed a laugh, her eyebrows now rising. “Our family has weathered many a scandal, and we are still here. Or have you forgotten how Daphne’s dearest husband chose to court her?”  

“That is different,” you insisted. 

“I think it is worse, actually,” Eloise said plainly. “Simon is a duke, and Anthony nearly killed him before Daphne knocked some sense into him.” She chuckled and shook her head. “Truly, it was a disaster. We Bridgertons have a knack for them.” 

“As do I,” you said with a loose laugh. “I was stabbed, Eloise. I nearly died in your brother’s arms.” 

“And we nearly died in our drawing room,” she said. “Anthony, most of all. He cares for you immensely.” 

“Surely he cannot,” you insisted. “Not after what I’ve done.” 

“I am not blind,” Eloise said, “and neither are you. So do not demerit our intelligence and pretend as if you do not see it.” 

“I— I know.” You wrapped your arms around your midsection, and you grimaced as the jewelry on your wrists brushed against your skin. You were covered head to toe in finery that didn’t belong to you, and you itched from the inside out. “But I don’t know where to go from here.” 

“It’s quite obvious, isn’t it?” Eloise looked across the room, where Lord Cardew stood talking to your mother, and then over at her brother, who couldn’t have been less interested in the lady trying to strike up conversation with him. Then her gaze fell to you. “You’ve got a choice to make.” 

“I’ve already ruined things,” you murmured. “I— I can’t just back out of this.”

“I can tell you that you certainly haven’t ruined things with my brother. And Lady Whistledown’s speculation is the only thing binding you to that lecher.” Eloise shrugged. “You’ve already broken off one courtship. What’s another?”

Your eyes met Anthony’s from across the room. Once again, he’d already been looking at you. You averted your gaze quickly, feeling the heat rush to your face, and you tried to steady your breathing. He had no right to still have such an effect on you. 

“I need some air,” you murmured. “Will you—”

“Of course,” Eloise said. “You are simply touching things up in the powder room.”

You nodded your thanks and slipped out of the ballroom, finally able to drop the facade you’d been trying to uphold. You truly felt as if you were overheating, and the cool air was hardly of aid once you reached the outdoors.

Everything was all wrong—your dress, this damned tiara, the bracelets and the necklaces and every jewel that Cardew thought he could buy you with. 

It all belonged to him. You would not be another prize on his shelf. 

You couldn’t help yourself. You began to shed the jewelry as your pace sped up, ripping bangles from your wrists and pendants from your neck—by the time you reached a deserted area of the gardens, you were considerably lighter and considerably close to tears. 

You let out a frustrated sob as you slammed your fists against some artistic stone structure. It earned you nothing but pain, but it grounded you in some strange way. You tore off your gloves and threw them to the ground, a shaky breath escaping you as you screwed your eyes shut and  pressed your palms to your forehead. 

You could not marry traditionally, you could not follow through with your feelings for Anthony, and now you could not follow through with this ill-advised plan. 

Were you truly this useless? To bring ruin to two families with your knack for destroying things for it all to amount to nothing? You waxed poetic about the life you thought you deserved to live, about going to university and gaining your independence and never marrying, and yet here you were, near tears in the gardens of the ball you were meant to reenter society at. 

“Miss Worthing.”

The whispered words blared through the silence, and you knew who it was without having to turn around. It still sent a shock through you, your breathing faltering for a moment. Your eyes stayed shut. 

“Why are you here?” you asked, your voice watery. 

“You do not know me if you think there is anywhere else I would be,” he said. 

“How did you find me?”

“I followed the trail of jewels. You’ve left an awfully expensive path in your wake.”

“All of it is worthless,” you mumbled, finally letting your hands drop. “It all belongs to Lord Cardew.”

“You’ll have made a magpie very happy.” 

“Enough with the jokes,” you said. “Why are you here?” 

“Why do you think?” Anthony asked with a slight laugh. 

“I do not know,” you responded. “That is why I asked.” 

“I am here because I want to talk to you,” he said. “You cannot just avoid me for the rest of the season.”

You turned away. “I can try.”

“I will not let you,” Anthony enunciated. “I will not let you make the biggest mistake of your life because you believe it is your duty.”

“If you are here to change my mind, you are wasting your time,” you said stiffly. 

“I don’t believe I have to do anything,” Anthony said. “It looks as if you’ve come to the conclusion yourself.” 

“And what makes you think that?”

“You have not even glanced in Cardew’s direction this entire night,” he said. “You’ve been looking at me instead.” 

“Because I have felt your eyes on me with every moment.” 

Anthony huffed. “Can you blame me? This is the first time I have seen you since that night.” 

“Then you should remember my words from that night,” you bit out. 

“Why are you so intent on pushing me away?” Anthony begged. 

You scoffed. “Why are you so intent on bothering me?”

“Because I cannot stand here and watch you marry another!” he exclaimed.

Your brows furrowed and you turned around. Anthony stood in front of you, his outfit impeccable but not at all looking put together. Desperation colored his eyes, and you saw how truly undone he’d become. 

“I— I thought I could, but I cannot.” He shook his head, a muscle working in his jaw as he glanced away. “Every moment you are in the vicinity of that man is a test of my strength. And I do not know how strong I am.” 

“I don’t understand,” you said hollowly. “You should hate me.” 

“I could never hate you,” Anthony murmured. “I thought I could, when you first told me of your plans, but— but I could hardly even dislike you.” A wistful smile tugged at his lips as he shook his head. “My mother had been bothering me for nearly a decade to find a wife and settle down, but I thought love was a fool’s game. I would have my fun as a bachelor, and then settle down with the most advantageous match. There was no need for further emotional baggage—when you love, you can lose. And I refused to lose again.” 

For a moment, your heart stopped in your chest. He lost his father, he nearly lost you, and then you pushed him away like he meant nothing. 

“Anthony—” you whispered, but he shook his head. 

“Please,” he said. “I have a lot to say.” 

You nodded, and he did as well. 

“Our deal was perfect for that. You were nothing but my sister’s nuisance of a friend—a bad influence that I could never see as more.” You could not help your soft laugh, and Anthony’s smile turned a bit more genuine. 

“But then we spent more time together. I… truly began to know you.” He shook his head with a chuckle. “You shattered every preconception I had of you. I began to look forward to our meetings, to our promenades—I would get home from calling on you and could think only of the next time I would see you.” 

“Throughout it all, you made me realize I was worthy of love,” he said. “You— you made me realize that I wanted it. That I wanted you.” His throat bobbed, and you could see his eyes glistening. “That I loved you.” 

You could hardly find the strength to speak. You felt as if you could melt into a puddle at his feet just from his words. You were so intent on avoiding Anthony because you couldn’t stand the thought of hurting him anymore— you believed he would be better off without you, without the scandal you’d dragged him into. 

But he… he loved you. 

He loved you just as you loved him. 

“I do not expect you to share any of my notions, and I know you value your freedom more than anything,” Anthony murmured. “So if it is not me you wish to be with, I understand, and I will accept it without complaint. I just beg of you—do not become that wretched man’s wife.” 

All you could do was stare at him for a moment more, words beyond your reach before you finally managed to speak through your emotions. 

“I tried to tell myself the exact same thing,” you said softly. “That you could not be happy with me. That I could never be happy chained to another—truly, that I could never love. Not when freedom is what I have always desired most. But Anthony…” you moved forward until you were mere centimeters apart, unable to suppress the shiver that ran through you at the proximity, “I have never felt more free than when I am with you.” 

“Miss—” Anthony started, but he paused and shook his head before saying your first name instead. His eyes were softer than anything. “Are you truly…?” 

“I could never fathom you sharing my feelings,” you said thickly. “That is why I pushed you away. But I love you, Anthony Bridgerton. And I think I have loved you for quite some time.” 

You swallowed the sudden lump in your throat, turning away so as to not betray the fullness of your emotions, and though you opened your mouth to provide some excuse, you were not granted the chance. 

Anthony’s hand encircled your wrist, pulling you back around, and just as soon did you feel his lips against yours. The tightness in your chest dissolved almost immediately as you all but fell into him, Anthony wrapping his arms around you to support you as your hands found purchase on anything they could. 

Your focus became devoted solely to the feeling of him, his soft lips against yours even as they plied for access. Anthony held you as if his only desire were to protect you from the world, and it made you feel a way you’d never even imagined. Only when air became a necessity did he pull away, his labored breaths in contrast to the pure adoration in his eyes. 

“Never in a thousand years did I think you would feel the same,” he murmured, his hands cupping your face on either side as he gazed into your eyes. “I thought myself a fool, falling for the one woman I could not have. You’ve no idea the relief it brings to hear you share my feelings.”

“I suppose I am just as foolish as you,” you breathed. Your heart felt as if it could burst. 

The corners of his lips quirked up in a smile. “I cannot imagine what my mother would think—that after so long spent searching for a wife, I fell for the one woman who never wanted the title.” 

You let out an airy laugh, relishing the feeling of his skin against yours. “Nor did I see myself falling for the one man who resented the chains of marriage as much as I.” 

Anthony pressed his lips against yours once more, and your hands traveled up until they tangled in his hair. You kissed until you were nearly breathless, but Anthony still managed to pull a very unladylike sound out of you as he bowed his head, kissing down the line of your jaw, your neck, until his teeth nipped your skin just above your decolletage.

“Anthony,” you gasped, clenching your fingers as they buried themselves further into his dark locks. You had never been this close with a man before, never this intimate — you never thought you would even desire it. 

But Anthony lit a fire inside of you that only he could quench, and yet the only thing he seemed to do was stoke it further. It was equally maddening and dizzying, the control he so effortlessly had over you. 

“I never knew how much I would delight in hearing you say my name,” he murmured, his lips trailing against your skin. “No more Lord Bridgerton, I beg of you.”

“I should think I’d like to hear you beg—” you breathed, but Anthony cut you off yet again as he pulled you into another searing kiss. You could hardly stand it anymore as your hands fell down to his shoulders, and you pulled away for just a moment as you began desperately undoing his waistcoat, Anthony taking the hint and removing his jacket. 

“These buttons were not designed with the needs of a lady in mind,” you huffed in frustration, fumbling fingers failing to make progress, and Anthony chuckled breathlessly.

“Have we finally found something I best you in?” he asked, and you rolled your eyes with a smile.

“Just take it off.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that all?”

You groaned as you looked at him. “If you insist on teasing me this way, Lord Bridgerton, I shall go back inside and act as if nothing has happened.”

“There is no need for idle threats,” he defended, and you bit back your smile. Anthony made deft work of his waistcoat, and the second he tossed it aside he was back on you. 

“Besides,” his voice was a whisper a millimeter from your ear, and warmth blazed in your core, “I believe I told you to call me Anthony.”

“And I believe you should have to try harder than that.” You smiled into his kiss as you trailed your nails down his back, the thin fabric of his dress shirt doing little as you felt his involuntary shiver. 

“You’ve no idea the effect you have on me,” he groaned, once again dipping his head as he peppered even more kisses down your neck, sliding down the sleeve of your dress to allow himself better access. 

The night air on your newly freed skin did little for you, any coolness of the breeze instantly negated by the heat of Anthony against you. Your nails dug into his back as he moved down, each spot where his lips touched your skin erupting with fire. 

You gasped out his name, barely able to handle it—the feeling was so foreign yet familiar, as if you had been waiting all your life for Anthony in this way. 

You could hardly believe you nearly lost it of your own accord. 

“It appears I do not have to try hard at all,” he said, “the way you cry out for me.” 

You laughed breathlessly, though his words were indeed true. You knew, in this moment, that you would do anything for Anthony Bridgerton—and he would do anything for you. “How I fell for a man as irritating as you, I haven’t the slightest.” 

You caught the slightest glimpse of his grin before he ducked his head yet again, and he had only just begun pushing both sleeves of your dress down when a woman’s voice could be heard behind you. 

“Anthony— oh!” 

The unfamiliar voice struck fear into your heart you had never felt the likes of before. Anthony moved away from you quicker than you’d ever seen, you just as hasty as you tugged the sleeves of your dress back to where they belonged and attempted to smooth out everything that Anthony had so easily sullied. 

You’d never imagined this was how your reputation would be ruined, with Anthony Bridgerton in the gardens of some ball, but when you finally had the sense to look and see who had caught you in a most uncompromising position, you could hardly stifle your incredulous laugh. 

“Sister?” Anthony questioned in disbelief, so many emotions warring on his face you had to turn away to cover up your growing grin. 

“Anthony,” Daphne greeted in kind, fighting to conceal her smile as her eyes drifted to you. “Miss Worthing.” 

“Your Grace!” Your shaky fingers were hardly of use to you as you pulled your gloves back up to where they belonged and once again ran your hands down the skirt of your dress to smooth out the wrinkles. Your cheeks burned under her gaze and you were innately aware of the fire underneath your skin brought about by Anthony’s touch in contrast to the cool night air. “What brings you here?” 

“Mother was quite… nervous about tonight,” she explained. “She indulged in one too many glasses of champagne, so she is taking her leave with Benedict for aid. She requested I find you to alert you of her departure, but it seems she was not the one whose disappearance should have been questioned.” 

“I’m sure you know this is quite compromising.” Thinly veiled amusement crossed Daphne’s face as she eyed you pointedly. “I am afraid you must marry him at once Miss Worthing, else I shall have to duel you to protect my brother’s honor.” 

You laughed breathlessly as Anthony looked up at the sky, his face turning a deeper shade of red than you had ever seen. “Your Grace, are you suggesting that I have ruined him?” 

“Indeed I am,” she confirmed, and you could see how it took every muscle of her being to retain a serious image. “This is not a light matter, miss. I do not understand why you are laughing.” 

“Daphne,” Anthony groaned, avoiding her eyes as he occupied himself with his jacket. “Why do you insist on being a nuisance?” 

“Anthony,” she inflected his name the same way he did hers, “I cannot have this woman sullying your name! I know it was of no will of your own, but this can not stand as is. But do not worry; I am prepared to defend your honor to my last breath.” 

“My sincerest apologies for what I have done, Duchess Hastings,” you responded gravely. “I am prepared for pistols at dawn.” 

Anthony huffed as he buttoned his waistcoat back up then went to retrieve his jacket from the bushes. “You exaggerate, the both of you. This cannot be what I was like last season.” 

“You were worse, brother. But do not worry,” Daphne said with a grin, “I should think a taste of your own practices is only fair after all you put Simon and me through.”

Anthony sighed with a slight roll of his eyes. “I… suppose… that it is what I deserve.” 

“Thank you, brother,” she said. “I only wish we had a witness just so your confession is forever remembered.”

“I wish Mother had not sent you to seek me out,” he responded dryly. 

You and Daphne exchanged smiles with each other before your expression sobered slightly. “ I ask quite a bit of you with this, Your Grace, but… may I count on your discretion? I know we jest, but my reputation truly could not handle something like this. I do not know if…” you glanced at Anthony before looking back to her, “if we are yet ready to seal our union.” 

“Of course,” Daphne nodded, and a relieved smile tugged at your lips. “I shall not tell a soul.” 

“Thank you eternally, Your Grace,” you expressed, but at your short curtsy she shook her head.

“Please, call me Daphne.” She offered a smile of her own, slightly coy. “After what I have just witnessed, I’ve no doubt you will be joining our family soon enough.” 

“Sister!” Anthony scolded, and when you glanced at him his entire face was dusted pink, even the tips of his ears. It was enough to make you swoon. “You cannot just say things whenever you see fit.” 

Daphne merely shrugged, joyfully indifferent to her brother’s protests. “I outrank you now, dearest brother — I believe I can say whatever I see fit, particularly when it is the truth.”

“You are truly impossible,” Anthony muttered as he shook his head. 

Daphne just smiled before she looked back at you. “I believe it best if the two of you leave at separate times, so as to not allow room for any rumors. Miss Worthing, you should go first and return to your mother; you can claim you simply needed fresh air. Anthony and I will stroll around the grounds for a bit before allowing ourselves to be seen — we are simply catching up after such a stretch spent at Clyvedon.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath as you smoothed your mussed hair and wrinkled dress for the last time. Anthony certainly did a number on you, in more ways than one. “Thank you again, Your—” you caught yourself, correcting your error with a small smile, “Daphne. 

“You may count on me in the future whenever I am in London,” she reassured. “It is my hope anyway that I shall be able to welcome you to the family officially.”

“Daphne!” Anthony exclaimed yet again, glaring at her. “Might you take your leave so we may have a moment alone?” 

“I believe you just had quite a few moments alone,” Daphne said, but a pointed look from her brother had her conceding with a smile. “Alright. I will be by the trees when you need me.” 

Anthony turned to you with an odd look in his eyes when Daphne was out of hearing distance, and when he did eventually speak, his voice was far softer than usual. 

“Do you truly believe I would not marry you?” he asked, and the underlying hurt in his voice did not go unnoticed. “Even if there were not the risk of a scandal, I would not hesitate. My entire heart lies with you.”

“It is not you, Anthony,” you sighed with a slight shake of your head. “I do not… I do not know if I am even capable of marriage.” 

He frowned. “What do you mean?” 

“I have spent my entire life running from it,” you said, chuckling softly, “and yet, here I am, the one thing I never thought I would be.”

“In love,” Anthony realized, and you nodded. 

“It has always been easy enough to denounce marriage when I’d never experienced anything of the like. The union of my parents was for convenience rather than love, and for as long as I’ve been alive my mother has tried to drill it into my head that my feelings did not matter — so long as the man had the means to provide for me and was not completely awful, he was satisfactory.”

“A future like that— it was so completely absurd to me that denouncing it all was the easiest thing in the world. And then I nearly died and my entire world changed, and I decided that Cardew was the best option to allow myself to completely separate emotion from marriage, but now…” you looked at Anthony, feeling more vulnerable now than ever. “I have found a love in you I’ve never thought possible, and I cannot stop imagining a life with you. And that terrifies me more than anything.” 

“But…” you trailed off again and you turned away from him as you wrapped your arms around yourself. “But I do not know how to approach my future, especially one where we are so closely intertwined.” 

Silence hung in the air for a noticeable period before Anthony cleared his throat, and it was obvious the care he put into his words. 

“You know I never imagined I would marry for love. Truly, I never intended it—I expected to be miserable in marriage. I saw it as nothing more than another duty to take care of. I believed that love was trivial, a ridiculous distraction. You are the one who made me see differently.” 

You turned around with slightly wide eyes, your arms wrapped around your midsection doing little to ward off the cool night air that seemed far colder than it was before. Anthony’s gaze never left yours, the softness in his own at odds with the pure, unbridled passion. 

“I love you. Though I have only just allowed myself to accept the fact, you are someone that I cannot imagine living the rest of my days without. There was…” his throat bobbed as his voice crackled slightly, “there was a moment when I feared the worst, that you would permanently disappear from my life. And ever since you were all but brought back from the dead, I have known that you are the only woman I wish to be with. It is why as soon as I left you, I asked my mother for this.” 

Anthony took a box out of his pocket, and you gasped as he got down on one knee, your hands flying up to cover your mouth. 

“This is the ring my father proposed to my mother with, and their love was beyond anything I have seen before. But it is the love that I feel for you, something so strong, so overwhelming— something I never thought I would experience. And yet here I am, madly in love with the one woman who scorned me with every word, and only pursued me because of my brand as a lesser evil.” 

A laugh bubbled out of you, the sound slightly muffled through your gloves, and you could not help it as your eyes began to fill with tears. 

“I admire you; all of you. The part that loves her family with every part of her being, that looks out for those with less than her when those more fortunate turn a blind eye. The part that fights for the rights of her sex when it is so much easier to just bow one’s head, that puts her happiness on a rightful pedestal— the part that is so terrified to share herself with others and yet deserves a love of the purest form.”

“And I am aware of how the unknown is a fear of yours, as it is one of mine. But I assure you—” Anthony’s voice was filled with such passion, his eyes with such love, that you could hardly stand it, “—I will be there for you every step of the way. We will face our fears as one, and we will shape the future ourselves, not to be bound by anyone or anything.” 

“I do not know where my future will lead me, but I know I do not want to face a single second of it without you. If you do not feel the same, I understand, but I will not be able to live with myself if I do not at least try. It is why I ask you,” Anthony said your name with more love than ever before, “will you marry me?”

“Yes,” you sobbed, a smile breaking across your face even as tears of joy streamed down your cheeks. “Yes, yes, I will marry you!”

Anthony let out a sigh of relief as he grinned, and after he slid the ring on your finger he stood up and pulled you into a breathless kiss. Nothing picture perfect like you’d heard about as a young girl, the kind of effortless gentleman’s act— Anthony kissed you with pure passion, love, desire, and it nearly brought you to your knees. You thought it would have, were it not for Anthony’s strong arms wrapped around your waist, pressing you against him and supporting you. 

You could hardly believe the same man who treated you as if you were glass after your injury was the one standing before you now, the one who handled you in such a way that could get the both of you exiled were anyone to see—the one that you thought hated you.  

And you were more than willing to allow it to continue, to surrender yourself fully to your baser instincts, when you remembered something that made your eyes widen.

“Your sister,” you murmured between kisses until you finally managed to pull away, albeit reluctantly. “Daphne is still waiting.”

Anthony laughed breathlessly as he pulled you back in, and your earlier protest was shown to be completely nonsensical. “Let her wait.” 

You grinned as he peppered kisses down your neck, enjoying the sensation until you pushed him away. “Anthony.” 

He groaned. “Why must you be a better person than I?”

“Believe when I say it pains me,” you said. “But the last thing we need is yet another scandal by my hand.” 

“Let them know,” he said, taking your hands in his. “Let all of London know that I love you, that we will be wed. I do not care what we have to face so long as we face it together.” 

“The thought has never been so tempting,” you murmured. “But you should at least alert your sister. It would be improper to make her wait out here all night for nothing.” 

His grip tightened on your hands. “So you do wish to leave together?” 

“Anthony, I just accepted your proposal,” you said with a laugh. “I wish to spend the rest of our lives together.” 

“I believe tonight is a good place to start, then,” he grinned. 

Anthony would not let you leave his side, so you went to Daphne together. First she saw your smile, then her gaze drifted down to your hand—she looked knowingly at her brother, though she could not hide her smile either. 

“It would appear as if I was right,” she mused. “I am always right when it comes to you though, Anthony, so it is not much of a surprise.” 

“Do not mock me,” Anthony said. “I could have left you waiting by the bushes all night.” 

“If you had not proposed to her after the conversation we had the other day, I would have questioned your sense,” Daphne said. “Trust me, I would not have been here long.” 

Your eyebrows rose. “What conversation?” 

“We do not need to start on this,” he said with a pointed look at his sister. “I have already bared my entire soul tonight. I do not need my sister embarrassing me further.” 

“Oh, I would never,” Daphne drawled. “After all, there will be plenty of time for us to gossip together when I come to visit you all.” 

“Won’t you be busy with your child?” Anthony asked. 

She shrugged. “You may be busy with one as well by the time I see you again.” 

You looked at Anthony only to find his gaze was already on you. There must have been some shred of doubt in your eyes, because he only took your hand in his. 

“I meant what I said,” he murmured. “We will take things as slowly as you desire.” 

You swallowed the sudden lump in your throat and nodded as you squeezed his hands—you knew what was expected of you as a wife, and you wanted it with Anthony, but you could not lie and say that his reassurances did not bring you relief. 

“My best wishes to the new Viscountess Bridgerton,” Daphne said, her voice full of affection as she clasped her hands together. “It is an honor to have you join our family.” 

“It is an honor to be accepted,” you said, bowing your head. 

Daphne smiled. “I assume you want to reveal this on your own terms.” 

You nodded. “I’ve dealt with enough attention from the ton lately.” 

“I am afraid to say that will not go away,” she said wryly. “But I will cover for the two of you.” 

You pressed a hand to your chest. “Thank you.” 

“It is only proper to welcome my sister in such a way,” she said with a wink, and you could not help but smile. “Now run along, you two. Before rumors start.” 

Anthony chuckled, and the two of them embraced before you started on your way.

“Viscountess Bridgerton,” Anthony murmured in your ear. “I love the sound of that.” 

You hummed in agreement. “As do I.” 

You laid your head on Anthony’s shoulder as you walked back with your hands intertwined—not to the ball, but to a carriage for the promise of time alone. You glanced over at Anthony and he smiled, and you pulled him to a stop as you pressed a kiss to his lips. He responded with hunger, the same vigor he displayed when you first stepped into the gardens together, and you could hardly believe he still had it left in him. 

Far too many minutes passed as you kissed and kissed and kissed, not a single care in the world of someone catching you. What could they do? You’d already endured enough scandal to weather anything, and there was no way to punish you and Anthony — you were already engaged. 

Your lips were sure to be bruised once you finally pulled away, Anthony gazing at you with complete adoration as he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“I cannot believe you are to be my wife,” he murmured. 

“I cannot believe you are to be my husband,” you breathed. “When will we reveal it?” 

“Tomorrow,” he said, intertwining your hands with his own. “Tomorrow, we will tell everyone, and we will deal with everything that comes along with it. But tonight…” 

“It is our secret.”

Anthony nodded. “Tonight, we start the rest of our lives together.” 

“The rest of our lives together,” you murmured. 

Truly, it sounded like a dream. Months ago you could not even consider the thought of marriage without an air of disgust—now, here with Anthony, you could not stop thinking about the fact that you were to be his wife. 

The rest of your life with Anthony would be anything but simple.

And yet, somehow, you could not think of anything more perfect.

-

taglist, only bc this series has been going on since i still had a taglist lmao. @ifilwtmfc @readers-post @fangirling-galore @funkydinosaurs @baby-i-am-fireproof @mess-is-my-aesthetic @likeballet @mdkfh @brezzybfan @magical-spit @lafy-taffy @miss-celestial-being @mercurysrhapsody @evilsailorsenshi @mainstreambitchlife @aangsupremacy @chloepluto1306 @lostaudfound @panhoeofmanyfandoms @blhemmings @my-acrylic-heart @seninjakitey @vlodi @arianagrandes-things @preciousbabypeter @youraliendaddo @stupidlittlebei @illuminwtesz @eringaitskill @otheliesstuff @users09 @chloepluto1306 @lady-loki-barnes-djarin @m-rae23 @the-horror-and-the-wild-simp @diemdurantia @theyoungestchild0w0 @mschievousx @alwaysreading1019 @ibelieveindragons141 @pretzywetzy

[cutiecusp]

So WIP list (so far)

🎀 Gaz, Price and Soap Regency

🏍 Biker! Simon AU

🐍 A betrayal (141 spy)

🔫 Keegan x Civilian reader

🪦 CBF! Graves x Reader

☢️ Sole Survivor (Fallout x CoD AU)

@xoxunhinged @misshugs @frudoo @rynbeerose @thevoiceinyourheadx @shadowdark00 @yesornowaitidontknow @muneca-lemon-steppa @justmeinadaze @serenefreakgeek @justsheerfilth1