#Regency banter | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yerimacoustic · 5 months ago

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𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙡𝙮 ♡ jun x reader

�� 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙣𝙤𝙬, 𝙞'𝙢 𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙮 ❞

summary : you find a sense of familiarity in your sworn rival, jun, while exchanging anonymous letters with a stranger .

content warnings : jun x female reader, regency era au, merchant!jun x bookstore owner!reader, mostly inspired by you’ve got mail, slow burn, frenemies to lovers, banter, misunderstanding, featuring jeonghan, wonwoo, karina and joy, yearning, kissing, sfw. 10.7k wc.

more notes : i finally got this out after weeks and weeks.. honestly i’m not sure if i love this, we’ll see how long it lasts 😭 not proofread. may make edits now & then. mostly historically inaccurate probably but we’re going with the vibes

the walk to the post office was not tedious by any means. not when the promise of a new response in the form of a handwritten letter prompted you to move quickly and lightly on your feet. it had become a weekly routine, early morning strolls to the post house, as well as an awfully great way to start the week.

the postmaster, otherwise known as your childhood friend, jeonghan, stood completely still behind the main counter with his arms folded across his chest. there was a knowing, mischievous glint in his eyes as he watched you quietly shut the door; he had been expecting you. just like he expected you every monday morning.

it wasn’t long before the brunette pulled a small envelope from the series of shelves behind him, gently dropping it onto the counter between the two of you. “here you go. your gentleman’s love letter awaits.”

“good day to you too, mr. yoon,” you teased him and grabbed the envelope, taking note of the familiar wax seal in the front. a neat scarlet red circle with a lion in the center- the familiar sight always managed to bring a smile to your face.

“hopefully he gives you some more clues as to his identity this week?” he called out to you as he strode across the tiny shop in favor of sweeping the floor. a look of feigned disappointment washed over his features as the sound of the bristles scratching across the floor and the envelope ripping open filled in the silence. “...perhaps not.”

just as your lips parted, the door swung open to reveal jeonghan’s assistant, karina. from the moment her eyes were fixed on yours, a mischievous glint akin to jeonghan’s filled her irises. “i thought i might find you here today. what news from the mysterious suitor?”

you shook your head before gesturing towards jeonghan, “i haven’t had the opportunity to read it yet. someone’s made sure of that.”

the man laughed from across the room, “it was never my attempt to keep you from reading it. i only wish that the two of you would at least give each other some hints as to who you really are.”

karina nodded in understanding before turning her back in favor of hanging her overcoat upon the rack near the entrance. “i hate to level with jeonghan in this case, but i’m curious about this mystery man, as well. have the two of you ever discussed meeting in person?”

“no, not at all. we’ve agreed to stay anonymous,” you explained as your fingers curled around the envelope in an almost protective grip. force of habit. “we know the risks but.. it’s quite refreshing, having someone to talk to without any of the societal pressures.”

before too long, jeonghan had finished tidying up and joined the two of you near the entrance. “i don’t understand. you both are clearly fond of each other..”

“who said anything about-”

“and you have a lot in common,” jeonghan mused, eyebrows raised. “in your next response, you should ask him something personal. ask him about his occupation.”

without skipping a beat, you shook your head in protest. “thank you for your unsolicited advice, jeonghan, but i know everything i need to know about this man. good day, my friends.”

you waved goodbye to the inseparable pair, stepping towards the small door. of course jeonghan, who always had to have the last word, called out to you before you could shut it completely, “except for his true identity!”

his words prompted your lips to twist into a smirk as you finally found the right opportunity to open the letter. as you unfolded the piece of parchment, your smirk slowly dissolved into a genuine smile, finding beautiful familiarity in the cursive penmanship. as you took cautious steps on the beaten path, you read the letter carefully:

‘this weekend i had the pleasure of accompanying my cousins as they vacationed in the countryside. they rent a small cottage near the ocean during the summertime and haven’t bothered to invite me until this year. i wish you could have seen it; it was perfectly quaint and tranquil. we spent all but the entirety of the seventy two hours walking along the beach and hunting for seashells. a bit of a juvenile hobby, i know.

i’m not sure where this inkling comes from, but something tells me you enjoy the oceanside. i bet you keep a collection of shells and pearls hidden somewhere in your home. or perhaps you proudly display them for your visitors to see. next time they permit me to join them near the beach again, remind me to fill this envelope with shells to add to your collection.

i know summer is your favorite holiday, and with that being said, i hope you find enjoyment in the final days of the season. take a stroll along the gardens or picnic with some of your friends.

take some time for yourself, my friend.’

–

jun waited three days for a reply, just as he did every week. he and his anonymous friend had fallen into a pattern of consistency, each of them sending a letter out to the other person once a week. even if he knew he could count on whoever this person was to send a timely response, his nerves got the best of him every time. the potential tone of the response occupied his thoughts at all times, keeping him up at night, keeping him from focusing intently on his work.

this week it reached the point where he had to turn his chair around to face the window, hoping that the sight of the rolling hills and graying sky outside would clear his mind. summer seemed to come to an end as quickly as it had begun, the entire season passing by in the blink of an eye. he counted his blessings, realizing that he was indeed lucky to have at least one holiday during the season. even if it was at the very end..

a knock on the door pulled him out of his trance and he turned his chair back to rest in the proper position, tucked tightly under his desk. “come in,” he called out.

barely a minute had passed before jun’s personal assistant and lifelong friend, wonwoo, closed the door quietly behind him and strode towards his desk with an envelope in hand. “your mystery woman sends her compliments,” he mused, handing the letter to jun.

jun’s eyes went wide. “you mean- you saw her??”

wonwoo shook his head, holding back an amused smirk as he watched the disappointment wash over jun’s features in real time. “no. my apologies.”

jun sighed, “just as well, i suppose. god only knows what chaos would unravel if anyone else in the household saw her.”

wonwoo nodded stiffly, folding his hands behind his back. “right you are. maybe there is practicality in anonymity, after all.”

“still, i can’t help but wonder what she’s really like in person,” jun mused, leaning back in his large leather chair with his chin cupped between his thumb and index finger. “there are so many habits and manners of hers i don’t even know about. she could be.. much lovelier in person.”

the bespectacled man tilted his head, taking a completely different approach, “or she could be ill-favored and poorly mannered.” the quiet statement was enough to pull jun out of his daze, causing him to furrow his eyebrows in annoyance. “my apologies.”

“there is no possible way someone who writes so beautifully is as ill favored as you say.” jun disregarded the man in front of him as he began to tear the seal off of the envelope, a silent command for wonwoo to leave him alone. conveniently enough, the door gently slammed shut once jun finally unfolded the small sheet of parchment.

‘i am delighted to hear that you were able to enjoy the last remaining hours of the season with your family. the ocean sounds delightful. your suspicion of my enjoyment of seashells and pearls is a fair assumption, although, i gave up collecting a long time ago. hopefully you invest more stock in your collections than i did.

i’m afraid that i have no plans to take my leave before autumn begins as i’ve been much too busy. i don’t mind keeping an occupied schedule; it takes my mind off things and prevents me from overthinking. especially when i get the pleasure of meeting several people from different walks of life on a daily basis.

i know i say this every week, but it is always a pleasure receiving your letters. sometimes i can’t believe that we met through an anonymous literary discussion group. i’ve received a handful of letters from other attendees, but allow me to say that the discussions are utterly mundane compared to our conversations. it feels like i write to a friend i’ve known for years.

i eagerly await your reply, dear friend.

jun folded the letter and tilted his head back in contemplation, just as he did every time he read one of your letters. the term of endearment the two of you shared always stuck out to him- ‘dear friend.’ as much as he enjoyed reading it at the end of every letter, a small part of him wished that there was a better word to describe how he felt towards you.

how he truly felt towards you was a mystery in and of itself. he valued your time and your relationship, he thought very highly of you.. but there were several complications that interfered.

as if on demand, one of the complications walked through the door without bothering to knock. joy, the daughter of the second wealthiest merchant in town and jun’s fiance strode towards his desk with confidence and charm. meanwhile, wonwoo stood by the door, stoic as ever as he occupied the room in favor of serving as a chaperone. he sent an apologetic glance in his friend’s direction, which jun quickly disregarded.

“still cooped away in this gloomy room, are you?” joy asked rhetorically. “oh dear, what ever is the matter?”

jun had completely forgotten to mask his confusion-fueled anxiety when she walked through the door. he shook his head in quick denial, his gaze softening as he allowed himself a better look at his fiance. “nothing,” he replied shortly and offered her a smile. “what brings you here?”

“i’ve come to ensure you’re still planning on attending the charity auction,” joy replied with an infectious grin. she gently picked up one of his paperweights, a sculpture of hand blown glass decorated with stained petals of lavender.

“oh dear- was that tonight?” jun grimaced, moving both hands to rub at his temples. the thought of socializing with anyone else that night in particular sounded like a nightmare, even if there was the possibility of making important new connections. maybe he had returned from his holiday much too soon.

disappointment washed over joy’s features, prompting her eyebrows to furrow and her lips to curl with a frown. “don’t tell me you forgot.”

“my apologies, darling- i’ve been so caught up with the upcoming shipments that it must have slipped my mind,” jun explained to her with a delicate tone of voice as he rose to his feet. the last thing he wanted was to convey his reluctance to attend the modest party with her.

she smiled faintly, allowing jun to take both of her hands in his. “i understand that you must have a lot to catch up on after returning from your vacation. perhaps we shouldn’t go.”

“no-” jun gently protested and squeezed her hands. “i want to go.”

jun witnessed his intended’s smile brighten in real time, the rest of her features noticeably lighting up once he agreed to make good on his promise. she mused, “splendid. i look forward to it.”

joy began to lean in with the intention to press a gentle kiss against jun’s cheek- however, he was quick to tilt his head back. just as an inquisitive gaze filled joy’s irises, jun tilted his head subtly towards their chaperone, who was standing against the wall with his arms folded across his chest and a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. right.

just then, joy let out a sheepish chuckle and settled for allowing jun to press a chaste kiss against her knuckles. “i will ask for the carriage around seven,” he told her, letting go of her hands and letting his own fall to his sides. “until then.”

“good day.” joy curtsied to him and bowed her head politely towards wonwoo as she left the room in a hurried pace, excitement getting the best of her. she loved parties, no matter the occasion; one of the many subjects where she and jun didn’t see eye to eye.

he clearly did a terrible job at disguising his disdain, for wonwoo was quick to approach the merchant’s side and pat his shoulder in feigned reassurance. “think of it this way,” he mused. “tonight, you may find someone you will actually enjoy talking to.”

“i appreciate your optimism, wonwoo, but i highly doubt that.”

—----

you must have reorganized the tiny bags of tea arrangements twenty times by now, ensuring that they were neatly stacked up against each other. as for the stacks of books on the other side of your booth, that was an entirely different story. you couldn’t come to terms with an arrangement you completely approved of and suddenly wished you hadn’t previously neglected the bookends.

karina noticed your frantic effort to neatly organize the rest of the books and shook her head with affection as she placed a hand over yours. “everything looks perfect, i promise,” she reassured you. “besides, no one will come to your booth if it appears as though you’re still cleaning things up.”

“perhaps you’re right,” you sighed just before the two of you sat down on the stools you’d been provided. silence filled the air between you and your good friend as the two of you watched the patrons circle around the rest of the booths, pausing to get a better look at the products provided by other vendors. you felt somewhat insecure while taking note of your neighbors’ products and wondered if you should have thought outside of the box.

but this was an important, extremely personal matter at hand for you: the library you had grown up visiting every weekend was on the brink of closing down. you presented the idea of a fundraiser to the esteemed owner, strings were pulled, and the rest of the puzzle pieces fell into place. you only wished you had more time to come up with a better product to sell.

at least your fellow vendors seemed to be pulling their weight.

among the sea of clientele was a tall, smartly dressed man with dark, wavy hair. the man walked along the rows of tables with his hands folded behind his back, studying each individual booth a bit too theatrically for your liking. he took slow, somewhat deliberate strides that left onlookers on the edge of their seat. but something about the way he carried himself, his dress, told you that he could invest a great deal of money into a great cause if he cared to.

karina left you alone, promising to purchase some cookies from a nearby vendor for the two of you. being alone with your thoughts at a time like this was less than ideal, considering customers were scarce. of course. you should have known no one would want to buy homemade tea sachets..

before too long the mysterious, smartly dressed man was nearing your booth. you straightened out your shoulders, rising to your feet and plastering the brightest smile you could muster as he approached you. “good evening,” you greeted him, a tad louder than you intended to, “could i interest you in some tea sachets? or perhaps- limited editions of some of my favorite collective works?”

the man stopped, picking up one of the tiny bags in his hand and raising an eyebrow inquisitively. “perhaps. what flavor are these?”

“ah yes, its black tea leaves mixed with brown sugar and vanilla bean,” you replied proudly. “i assembled them myself.”

he placed the sachet back on the table, ensuring that it was neatly lined up with the rest before looking past your shoulder. you could have sworn you detected a hint of distaste in your eyes as his eyes scanned through the stacks of books, but he stepped closer to your collection. “do you enjoy reading george eliot’s works?” he asked.

“well- no, not particularly.”

the man nodded his head once, his eyes lighting up in understanding. “ah. trying to get rid of some extra books, are you?”

you furrowed your eyebrows, stunned. “no.. i assure you, sir, that’s not the case.” perhaps the words left your lips in a much more defensive tone than you intended, but the realization came too late. “i’m simply making much needed sacrifices for a worthy cause.”

the stranger let out an amused chuckle, “trust me, i did not mean to insult you. i was merely curious.”

“right... forgive me for overreacting,” you sighed, feeling unconvinced despite his reassurance. “everyone around me seems to have valuable things to offer for this event but.. here i am, selling dusty old books and tea leaves. i suppose i felt-”

“threatened?” he finished, cocking a brow.

you lifted your chin up, maintaining a friendly but somewhat hesitant grin. “yes, i suppose i felt threatened.”

the man in front of you bowed his head to take a closer look at your merchandise. in any other circumstance, he wouldn’t be caught dead purchasing tea or even drinking it, and he already had most of the books she was trying to sell. however, he lifted his chin to meet your gaze, “i’ll take the lot.”

you paused, utterly stunned. “please, sir, don’t feel the need to humor me or my grievances-”

he cut you off with a gentle laugh, one that you found far too sweet and angelic, “i’m not. i’m simply contributing to a worthy cause, as you stated earlier.”

the stiffness in your shoulders and spine that appeared upon receiving his offer would not disappear. you chuckled, hoping to ease the tension, “well.. if you insist. how generous of you.”

a smirk crept upon his lips just as he bowed his head again, looking through his jacket pockets for his leather bound wallet. “don’t mention it,” he mused, totaling the sum and pulling the bills out of his collection accordingly. “although- i feel like i should, at the very least, know the name of the person i’ve given a large sum of my savings to.”

you chuckled and took the money from him, your fingers brushing over his palm fleetingly. “y/n,” you replied. “although, now is probably a good time to tell you that all of my earnings are going towards funding the library.”

his eyes widened, and it was probably the most he’d done to showcase his emotions in the entirety of your exchange. “how noble of you.”

“it's for an important cause. important to me, at least.” you shrugged. “do i get to know the name of my generous donor?”

he chuckled, finally allowing his timid smile to reach his eyes in the meantime, “jun. pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“the pleasure is all mine,” you mused with another faint chuckle.

just as you had finished preparing his bags with all of the books and tea sachets he had taken off your hands, a woman with long, gently waved hair and a bright smile joined his side. her eyes went wide as she linked her arm around his own and took in all of his new belongings. “darling! i hope you weren’t planning on spending your entire fortune tonight.”

jun let out a sheepish chuckle, which was accompanied by another grin that barely reached the corners of his eyes. he replied somewhat flatly, “no dear, i assure you, that’s not the case. i’m simply helping a friend.”

the woman’s small, unconvinced laugh briefly broke the awkward silence before she spoke up again, “my father’s here. he wishes to discuss some urgent matters with you.”

jun nodded in understanding, almost as if to disguise his annoyance. before he could allow the young woman to pull him away, however, he nodded in your direction, “it was a pleasure to meet you. have a splendid evening.”

you bowed your head in gratitude, although it served as a perfect method of hiding your growing smile. “i won’t forget your kindness. good evening.”

somehow, you were able to steal a glance at the singular ring adorning the woman’s left hand. judging by the rather impressive diamond and the glow that she wore so proudly, you were willing to bet that the two of them were engaged. you were also willing to wager that the tall man the two of them were now face to face with was her father.

you recognized him immediately; he was one of the wealthiest men in the city. if not the entire state. your mysterious benefactor must be a man of circumstance if he was betrothed to someone like the daughter of one of the most notorious merchants. as you took note of the blank expression adorned by jun and joy’s growing smile, you suddenly wished you were gifted with the ability to read lips…

when karina returned with small bags of the desserts in both hands, her eyes went wide upon taking in the sigh of your now empty booth. “oh my! i take my leave for two seconds and you manage to clear the entire booth out,” she chuckled, handing you the small bag of goodies.

you chuckled, “i suppose father was wrong; airing out grievances to anyone who may listen does have its benefits.”

“perhaps,” karina chuckled along with you. “tell me, how many customers managed to buy the entirety of your possessions in the short amount of time i was gone?”

“just one,” you replied with a smirk, gesturing towards the man in question. jun stood awkwardly in front of his future father-in-law with the two large bags still in both hands.

karina’s eyes went wide, “ah, the notorious mr. wen junhui. i must say, i am pleasantly surprised he even purchased anything tonight, let alone the entirety of your collection.”

you furrowed your eyebrows. “you know of him?”

karina chuckled, eyebrows raised to display her disbelief. “you don’t?” she countered. “he’s only the son of the wealthiest merchant in town. he plans to take full ownership of his father’s company by the end of the year.”

“then what is he doing here?” you wondered out loud, puzzled by karina’s revelation. you suddenly grew conflicted, reflecting upon his generous donation. was there a genuine desire to assist you in bringing about a change that was important to you or did he simply see your business as an opportunity to potentially ensure his own financial gain later on?

she shrugged, “i would assume he and his fiance are here to invest in some new partnerships.”

you furrowed your eyebrows as karina voiced your suspicions. “now who would make such…calculated moves at a time like this? my stars, this is a charity auction.”

“someone who only looks out for themselves, i suppose,” karina sighed. she placed a hand on your back and offered you a reassuring smile. “well.. i believe our work here is done. i propose we take our desserts and go on our way after a job well done.”

you laughed lightly, “i would be delighted.”

the two of you passed by the couple as you made your way to the exit, jun’s eyes wandering to inevitably meet yours. he offered you a gentle smile, one that his fiance had just barely missed, prompting you to bow your head politely in return. for whatever complicated reason, you held onto the hope that you would never see that man again.

—---------------------------

do you ever wonder what would become of your future if you had chosen a different path? or if, perhaps, the fates had a different idea for your livelihood?

i don’t attempt to deny how lucky and blessed i’ve been- i have indeed lived a happy, comfortable life since i was a child. without going into too many details (as per our agreement), i would say that my life is very fortunate. but the more i take part in strenuous business meetings with my father and his partners, the more i wonder if there’s something wonderful i’ve been missing out on.

i blame my newfound existential dread on the holiday i took part in with my cousins. not one of us had a care in the world for an entire weekend, and i daresay it was the longest period of time in which i felt no stress at all. this exchange of letters also provides me with much needed reprieve.

i don’t want the entirety of this letter to fill you with melancholy so allow me to say this- there is a pastry shop near my estate that has the most delicious custard pies. if you ever find your way in that corner of town, let’s both hope i’ll be there at the same time. just out of coincidence, of course.

i hope to hear from you soon, dear friend.

you folded the piece of parchment in half and pushed it aside, feeling butterflies begin to take flight in your stomach. the two of you had never spoken about meeting in person, agreeing to keep your relationship confined to exchanging letters. of course, you would be lying if you said that the thought hadn’t crossed your mind on several occasions..

you haphazardly stuffed the letter in your pocket as the door to your quaint bookstore opened and jun shuffled in. he went wide eyed as he saw you stand behind the front counter, appearing to be on edge.

even so, he greeted you with a smile of pleasant surprise, “oh..! i didn’t realize you worked here.”

you chuckled, still trying to ignore your racing heartbeat. “my father owns this store,” you explained somewhat flatly. “is there something i can help you with?”

“no, not at all. just taking a look.” a brief smile was sent your way before jun started wandering through the shop floor with his hands folded behind his back. you were reminded of the way he strode towards the booths in the library when the two of you first met, merely twenty hours beforehand. and just like before, it brought upon a sense of uneasiness.

he stopped near a table in the corner of the room, where a stack of books was accompanied by candles set on top of intricate sticks, a woven tablecloth, and a small circle of.. seashells?

he kept trying to tell himself that it was most likely just a coincidence, but he felt compelled to ask, “these shells add a nice touch. do you enjoy collecting?”

you perked up, gently shaking your head. “no, not particularly. i’m not sure why i even put them there; it’s not like the shop has a nautical theme..”

“they’re rather nice,” he remarked, gently cutting you off. he grinned knowingly as he continued to look through the shelves, studying the contents. “i must say, you have quite the impressive collection.”

“do you speak of my collection of books? or seashells?” you teased him.

he chuckled, “both, i suppose.. beaded periwinkles were always my favorite. i couldn’t help but notice it seems we both hold them in high regard.”

as he tilted his head back towards the small desk in the corner of the room, you’d only then noticed how many of that particular brand of shells you actually possessed. “i suppose great minds really do think alike,” you remarked. “but i’m sure you aren’t here to talk about seashells.”

it appeared to jun as though you were eager to help him with another purchase, however, it couldn’t be further from the truth. mentally, you were crafting another response to your mysterious friend- actually, would it be appropriate to start calling him your suitor?

either way, he noticed the hastiness in your tone and chuckled, “right. to tell the truth, i’ve been meaning to take a look at this shop for some time now. i think i could propose a business venture that would benefit you and your father greatly.”

you raised an eyebrow and asked him in a gentle tone, “and what, pray tell, makes you think either one of us would be interested in a partnership with you?”

he stopped his pacing so he was standing directly in front of you, the front counter creating a fair amount of space. “i seek partial ownership of the shop. if you allow me to make a few adjustments to the building, i guarantee you it will bring in more customers and, eventually, more revenue for the two of us.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, taken aback by his words. “i don’t know if it escaped your notice, but my father is not here. he won’t be for another fortnight, at the very least.” you paused. “but if he was, i can guarantee you he would be mortified by your offer.”

jun mirrored your expression, cocking his head to the side in confusion. “i beg your pardon?”

“my father built this shop by himself and has been working his entire life to pay off his debts. every inch of this place holds sentimental value, i won’t have anyone making alterations for their own benefit.”

he nodded once, “that’s.. understandable. but you lead me to believe you’ve completely forgotten the definition of the word ‘partnership.’ it benefits the two of us equally.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, snapping, “please, sir- do not condescend to me.”

“my apologies,” he mused, taking a step to meet you around the counter. “but allow me to understand your line of thinking- you won’t accept an equal partnership from me, but you will accept a generous donation.”

“need i remind you, the entirety of that donation went into funding the public library,” you protested while doing your best not to raise your voice. “and i now know fully well your true intentions behind that ‘generous donation’ of yours.

“allow me to reiterate- while i most certainly do not speak for my father, i cannot guarantee his interest in your offer.”

he bowed his head with a knowing grin, “allow me to say i’m certain that your father recognizes a great offer when he sees one. i will speak with him in a fortnight.”

“i-” you stuttered, watching him step towards the door.

“i bid you good day, madam.”

—

my dearest, please do not feel any sense of guilt for simply conveying your true feelings. i will not lie to you, i think about all sorts of different paths i may walk in some sort of alternate universe. for example, maybe in another life, we do more than simply write letters to each other. maybe we take walks together or converse over custard pies.

even so, i hope you find a way to make peace with your business partners and yourself. and i really do hope you find what you’re looking for. please allow yourself to take more holidays with friends and family members whenever you can. personally, i find that even something as simple as a walk through the park on a chilled afternoon soothes the spirits.

i hope you reach this letter in time, but i have been craving a good custard pie. i thank you for your recommendation and hope to see you there on saturday around midday. purely out of coincidence, of course.

best wishes and goodbye for now, my dearest.

“my dearest?” jun read out loud incredulously. he was so used to the mysterious writing partner holding him in a more platonic regard. he found himself helplessly staring at the term of endearment, the way she wrote it…

“i see the two of you are now using more personal terms of endearment,” wonwoo observed, a smirk tugging at his lips as he watched jun from across the room.

jun placed the letter in a drawer filled nearly to the brim with the rest of his letters, carefully slamming it shut. “wonwoo… cease your teasing remarks for once and instead tell me what to do.”

wonwoo stepped closer, sitting comfortably near jun’s desk with his hands folded on his lap. “regarding this mystery woman of yours?”

jun nodded with a heavy sigh, which of course, puzzled wonwoo greatly. usually, he was in a brief state of merriment after reading one of your letters- but the way he clenched his jaw and stared at the patterns on his desk in contemplation said otherwise. “i find myself… conflicted. you see, in my last letter, i left something of an.. invitation for her.”

“an invitation?” wonwoo cocked an eyebrow.

jun shifted slightly in his seat, crossing his legs as he expected the worse reaction from wonwoo imaginable. “indeed. and she has taken it upon herself to arrange a meeting place and a time.”

instead of scolding him, however, wonwoo nodded, his confusion still evident. “then.. why are you feeling conflicted, as you say?”

“for a number of reasons, i suppose,” jun sighed. “the first reason being that i’m.. confused, to say the least, about my feelings for her. they are strong, whatever they are- i hold her in the highest regard.. and yet i wonder if we made a mistake staying anonymous.”

wonwoo leaned forward, letting his chin rest in his palm. “you mean to say.. you’re worried there’s something you don’t know about her? something you might not like once you meet her in person?”

“well..yes, i suppose. not to mention there is the matter of my engagement-”

“your arranged engagement-” wonwoo chimed in.

jun paused, drawing in a shaky breath. “precisely.” he rose to his feet, pacing the floor behind his desk and cupping his chin between his thumb and index finger. “my arranged engagement.. that i’ve been second guessing since the day the two of us were made aware of it.”

wonwoo nodded, signaling his understanding. “well.. i suppose the only way to find out if there’s something about her that you don’t exactly ‘like’ is to follow through with this meeting. maybe you won’t come face to face with previously unknown attributes of her personality right away, but the first step is always the most important.

“it seems to me that you have a lot of feelings to work through.. with her. maybe you should write them all down.”

jun furrowed his eyebrows. “you mean- write them down and.. read them to her?”

“why not?” wonwoo countered in a gentle tone, rising to his feet and crossing to the door with his hands folded behind his back. “you have no issue writing seemingly heartfelt letters to her once a week. how would this be any different?”

before jun could answer his friend’s question, he was left alone to stew in the complicated question. as per usual, wonwoo brought upon an excellent idea- one that he hated to consider taking seriously. and with a heavy sigh of disdain and shaky hands, he sat back at his desk and began to write.

—--

“are you sure about this?” karina asked you for what felt like the millionth time, tying the ribbons of your hat together. she stepped back to take a better look at the modest lavender dress you had purchased for this specific occasion, immediately grinning. it was his favorite color; you’d known that since the two of you met through the literary discussing group.

“honestly, karina… i’ve never been more sure about anything in my entire life,” you replied, taking a deep breath as you held one of your suitor’s letters in hand. it wasn’t just any letter, however- it was one of your favorite ones he’d gifted you. “i just wish i’d prepared something beautiful to say to him..”

“just.. speak from the heart,” your friend advised. “it works every time.”

you laughed, “are you quite sure about that?”

“we’re wasting time!” she laughed and gently swatted at your upper arm. “go on, meet your wonderful suitor.”

before too long, karina carefully shoved you out the door with no intention of allowing you back into the shop. you didn’t look back, not even once, striding confidently towards the bakery. you could practically hear your heartbeat echoing in your ears as you finally walked through the door, a loud bell startling you on the way in.

you didn’t know whether or not to call it irony, but you felt your appetite leave you abruptly while sitting comfortably in the corner of the room. you stared down at the envelope, which was still in your shaking hands, unable to continue watching the entry door in suspense.

a timid tap on your shoulder snapped you out of your daze. you whipped your head back to see jun standing behind you with a growing smirk, the sight causing you to let out a huff in disappointment. he responded by snickering, “lovely to see you too, madam.”

you stuffed the letter in your jacket pocket, sighing, “what are you doing here?”

he pondered your question with that all too familiar smirk of amusement, mirroring your actions and folding a small, leather bound book in his inner jacket pocket. “am i not allowed to take time off work to purchase some desserts?”

“that’s not what i said,” you sighed just before he pulled out the chair across from you, prompting you to raise your hand in protest. “please, don’t- i’m waiting for someone.”

you tried not to think anything of the way jun paused, his dark eyes widening. “may i inquire as to who? a friend? an acquaintance? perhaps a suitor- i am more than happy to serve as a chaperone, if need be.”

“that will not be necessary, thank you kindly,” you chuckled without any sense of amusement in your tone. “we are not courting. not that i have to explain the circumstances of our relationship to you, of all people.”

despite your protests, jun sat across from you as his smirk grew into a beam. “what kind of suitor is he, i wonder? a lord? or a baron?”

“sir, i would thank you not to patronize me. and so loudly, at that,” you whispered.

he laughed a little too loudly for your liking, his bright smile on full display, “forgive me, i do not mean to patronize you. i simply wish to know more about who my new friend has taken a liking to.”

you paused, signaling your disdain with a frown before leaning in and speaking in a hushed tone, “well, if you must know, the man i’m supposed to be meeting with is kind, funny, and has an aptitude for reflection and study. he’s completely unlike you in every sense of the word.”

“is he really?” jun asked, taking genuine offense from your words. he drew back in his seat, eyebrows knitting together.

you nodded with such blatant certainty that prompted jun to frown, delicate as the expression was. “indeed. he walks through life with radiant optimism and recognizes the value of literary classics. you, however, view such precious works of art as yet another method of personal financial gain. and i feel sorry for you.”

tension filled the air as jun grew silent, visibly stunned by your words. “forgive me for not telling you everything about my line of work upfront, but i’m not just in the business for the money. you see- i’ve already read the entire collection i’ve purchased from you. a long, long time ago, actually.”

you could have sworn your heart stopped beating completely in your chest- maybe you had been a little too harsh with this man. you timidly asked, “and you’ve.. enjoyed all of them?”

“i don’t think there’s a word strong enough to describe my.. idolization towards the authors. especially dickens.” he paused, rising to his feet. “i feel as though he explores themes of human relationships better than any author i know of. the idea that someone can find redemption and mend even the worst wounds within said relationships..”

he paused once again, leaving you to ponder his annoyingly profound statement with furrowed eyebrows. just as you parted your lips to offer an apology, or even to ask him to elaborate, he spoke up again, “i do hope that one day, you will hold me to a higher regard. that one day, you will see me in the same positive light you see this stranger who clearly did not even bother to meet with you in a timely manner. i bid you good day.”

you felt your cheeks go cold as you watched him turn towards the door, your voice slightly raising, “jun, wait-”

much to your surprise, he faced you completely and offered you a sad smile, “that’s a lovely color on you, by the way.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, clearly caught off guard by his abrupt compliment. “sorry?”

“lavender. it’s a lovely color on you.” and as he let the beautiful, heartbreaking compliment fill in the tension between you, he nodded his head in farwell and turned his back on you for the last time. that afternoon, at least.

you leaned back in your seat as the bell signaled his disappearance. you felt as though there was a lot to unpack from your exchange- clearly you had misjudged jun. clearly, he was well read and you had rudely assumed that he wasn’t. you thought you had better character than that- but clearly, jun wasn’t the only one you had misjudged.

then there was the matter of his unexpected compliment- try as you might, you couldn’t stop repeating his line, his delivery over and over again in your mind. the way the word lavender rolled off of his tongue with ease- was there a possibility he knew that you had chosen to wear that color on purpose?

no- that couldn’t be possible. at least, that was what you kept repeating to yourself non verbally as jun took his leave.

meanwhile, the man in question kicked at loose rocks on the pavement while trying to avoid wonwoo’s gaze. the younger man had accompanied jun to offer him moral support and was stunned to see the meeting ending so soon. he pushed off of the bench where he’d been quietly reading, rushing to the other man’s side.

“jun, what’s happened? why are you leaving so soon?” he demanded.

jun shook his head, refusing to meet wonwoo’s gaze. he told him pointedly, “this was a mistake. i never should have made that offer to her.. wonwoo, what was i thinking?”

wonwoo grabbed his friend’s upper arm, stopping him from taking another step forward. “what do you mean, ‘it was a mistake?’ you were in there for less than five minutes, what could possibly go wrong in that short amount of time?”

he finally held his chin high, his eyes meeting wonwoo’s albeit reluctantly. he folded his arms across his chest as he took another look at the bakery he vowed never to set foot in again. “i saw her,” he muttered.

wonwoo furrowed his eyebrows, his impatience getting the best of him. “...and what became of it?”

“let’s just say if she knew who i truly was, she would regret joining that literary discussion group in the first place,” jun bowed his head, watching the dust settle around two pairs of shiny black shoes as he kicked another set of loose rocks.

the confusion visibly melted away from wonwoo’s features within a matter of seconds. “i see…” he mused. when jun refused to speak again, the stunning reality of the situation circling around him like a dark cloud, he lightly scoffed. “and there’s not even a small part of you that’s willing to talk with her, explain yourself?”

jun shook his head, “trust me, there is no getting through to her.”

“how can you be so sure?” he snapped. wonwoo rarely ever raised his voice; whenever he did, however, jun was always taken aback.

“because i know her!” jun exclaimed. he paused, hoping to steady his racing heartbeat. “and i have known her for almost a year now. i know about things she hasn’t told anyone else, her innermost thoughts, philosophies, desires.. which is why i know for certain that she would never stoop so low to even entertain the idea of courting someone like me.”

“‘someone like you?’” wonwoo repeated incredulously. “you’re being ridiculous. get back in there and set the record straight, i insist- no i demand it.”

jun yanked his arm out of wonwoo’s grip. “you cannot order me to do anything.”

wonwoo smirked, clearly finding amusement in the situation. who could blame him, as he was pushing jun’s relentlessly stiff, almost lifeless figure towards the bakery. “oh, but i am. i’ll be waiting right here for you when you’ve finished explaining yourself to her.”

“absolutely not. now let go of me,” he swerved to the right in order to avoid wonwoo pushing him again.

“you’ve nothing to lose, now get back in there-”

“no!”

before too long, the men were all but wrestling on the dirt path. wonwoo was trying to push him towards the bakery while jun was practically leaping back and forth to avoid even a mere graze of his friend’s hand. any onlooker might have been frightened by their actions and guessed that they were engaged in a genuine scuffle. but neither of them retaliate with violence, of course.

neither of them were sure how much time had passed before the front door swung open, seungcheol emerging with a scowl, “hey! the two of you better get a move on and take your argument somewhere else.”

the simple warning was more than enough to pull the two men away from each other. as the two of them hunched their shoulders in embarrassment, jun turned his back on the store. as if it wasn’t enough to discover the woman of his dreams was actually the one who hated him, he made a fair assumption that he had been banned from the shop.

wonwoo, seemingly unbothered by the shopowner’s warning, walked alongside his friend. his shoulder barely brushed along his with every step he took and much to his surprise, jun didn’t make any effort to stop the fleeting contact. “so.. what happens now?” the bespectacled man asked.

“what do you mean?” jun asked, his eyes fixed on the weeds growing along the path.

“are you planning to stop writing to her? or are you formulating an excuse for ditching her?”

jun paused, taking another look at the shop behind him. he could just barely make out your figure in the small front window, waiting noticeably impatiently at the same table. “i have no idea.”

—--

dearest, i wish that i could provide you with a good excuse as to why i did not meet with you. i am positive there is nothing i could say that could excuse my ill mannered behavior, anyways. i hope you can find it within yourself to forgive me, although i am not so sure if i can ever forgive myself. if you no longer wish to write to me, i understand. i simply want you to know that nothing could ever change how highly i think of you.

it was the shortest letter he had written. you read it once, committing it to memory over the next few weeks without generating a proper response.

you couldn’t remember a time in your life when the sting of betrayal had so effectively wounded you. mundane tasks such as eating, drinking, even concentrating on the simplest tasks at the book shop became too much for you to handle. all that occupied your mind was the embarrassment you felt waiting hours for the ‘friend’ to show up, the way your heart sank when you realized he wouldn’t be coming at all, the way tears blurred your vision as you walked home..

or perhaps the realization that it was all a mistake, that you never should have engaged in writing letters with a stranger in the first place. you never should have allowed yourself to find such comfort in a stranger, someone who could have easily been saying just what you wanted to hear.

usually, you weren’t one to shy away from your responsibilities at the shop, especially considering your father was still gone. but you allowed yourself to make one exception, given the nature of your heartbreak. besides, it was always your father who told you that a walk in the park could be soothing to both the mind and body.

in this case, it was a short walk around in the park before you came to a stop near the large pond. the sunbeams shining on the water pulled you deeper and deeper into a daze of content, providing temporary relief from your heartbreak. the leaves rustled in the wind, a crisp breeze in the air.. it was peaceful.

obviously, a little too peaceful for fate’s liking.

you averted jun’s gaze to the best of your ability as you watched him stroll up the hill, walking the same path you had just minutes ago. as much as you kept telling yourself that this meeting was nothing but a coincidence, a small voice in the back of your mind kept asking if it really was.

inevitably, his eyes found yours and before you could rise to your feet to dash in the opposite direction, he was taking long strides to meet you in your newfound hiding place. you bowed your head, avoiding his gaze as he spoke, “what a coincidence. i didn’t think i’d see you around here.”

“is it really a coincidence?” you asked him, haughtiness in your tone.

jun shrugged, taking a seat next to you on the cold grass. “usually i don’t find myself in this part of town but.. my line of work really takes a toll and someone told me recently that a walk through the park on a chilled afternoon soothes the spirits.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, your eyes still fixated on the patterns of your dress.. that phrase.. it was all too familiar. “wise words,” were the only two words you could muster.

he nodded, allowing uncomfortable silence to pass between the two of you and gazing at the pond. he waited for a moment before speaking again, his tone low, almost timid. “how was the meeting? with that friend of yours?”

you paused, drawing in a sharp breath and fixing your posture in the same movement. “he never came.”

jun turned to look at you, taking a mental note of the pure, unapologetic expression of heartbreak you wore. your pouty lips, the darkness in your eyes.. “i am.. truly sorry to hear that.”

you screwed your eyes shut, fighting back any tears that dared to surface. it took a moment for you to collect yourself enough to speak without showcasing the warble in your voice, “i suppose it’s my own fault for putting my complete trust in someone.”

jun paused, her words echoing in his mind to the point he couldn’t focus on anything else. of course, he felt guilty for not immediately declaring who he truly was and staying at the shop with her. he regretted it from the moment he made the decision to leave her. once again, he found himself overwhelmed from the complications he was forced to face on a daily basis.

“i don’t think it was a mistake on your part,” he finally whispered to you, offering a gentle smile once your eyes met his. “clearly, there is only one person at fault here.”

you nodded, feeling unable to break away from his gaze at that moment. much to your surprise, you were glad that you didn’t immediately push him away upon seeing him stroll confidently through the park. because as much as you told yourself how much you disliked him and what he stood for, there was no denying he possessed a level of.. comfort.

you chuckled, the sadness unmistakeable in your tone. “i don’t think i can find it within myself to..blame him,” you mused. “i know it sounds silly, but.. i would rather blame myself. i keep trying to make excuses for him.”

jun gently furrowed his eyebrows as he processed your words. of course, his irises were still flooded with sympathy as he gazed at you, trying to come to terms with your line of thinking. “can i ask you a question?”

you were slightly caught off guard by his question but you nodded all the same. “go on.”

he allowed himself to look forward again, shifting a little bit to sit more comfortably on the lawn. his knee barely grazed against yours as you did so, the fleeting contact still sending a shockwave along your skin. your cheeks even heated up as his gaze found yours again and he spoke gently-

“you jump through hoops to forgive this man for betraying your trust and yet.. you don’t seem to find it within yourself to forgive me for a simple misunderstanding. i just.. don’t understand why.”

once again, that familiar jab at your heart stunned you into silence. he brought up an excellent point; the moment you watched him leave the bakery, unforgettable guilt rushed over you like a tidal wave. seeing him sit next to you, remaining vulnerable with his emotions- it reminded you just of how much you had misjudged him.

“i’ve been horrible to you,” you finally spoke. “and i want to apologize. i think.. this trip that my father’s been on has been something of a practice round for me. there will come a day when i’m running his store all by myself and..it might come sooner than later. and that terrifies me.”

“that’s completely understandable,” jun replied. “trust me, i’m convinced that if i make one wrong move, i will burn my father’s business, his entire legacy, to the ground. I’m terrified.”

the two of you shared a laugh, sorrowful as it was. as he kept the bashful smile plastered upon his lips, you couldn’t help but take a mental note of the way his eyes lit up as he did so. “i guess we’re more alike than i thought,” you confessed.

jun’s heart sank upon hearing your words. he longed to tell you the truth, to apologize for hurting you so deeply by ignoring you- but something held him back. a sneaking suspicion that this was neither the time nor the place. so he drew in a deep breath before his smile grew wider, “i guess we are.”

you chuckled, suddenly hyper aware of how close the two of you were sitting. however, it felt like the wrong time to bring up the impropriety of your situation, given the context. “but if it really means that much to you, i can arrange a meeting with you and my father once he returns.”

jun pondered your words, his arm grazing yours as he drew in another sharp breath. once again, the brief contact was enough to quicken your heart rate. “i would love nothing more than to work more closely with the two of you.. but please, don’t feel pressured to schedule the interview on my account.”

you chuckled, leaning back on the grass slightly and propping yourself up by your elbows. “on your account? it was your idea, was it not?”

jun laughed in return before smiling down at you, “well.. yes, but you know what i mean. i don’t want you to humor me simply because you feel guilty. i want to meet with your father because the two of you genuinely want to work with me.”

“jun-” you started, taking a hold of his left hand. you anticipated feeling the cold sting of a wedding band on his finger, but there was none. you almost gasped in surprise, promising yourself you would ask him about it later. “i want to work with you. well- forgive me if i sound forward, but i want to do more than work with you. i want to spend more time with you.”

“you..do?”

“yes!” you laughed. “that is.. only if you want to, of course.”

“no, no, of course i do-” jun stuttered gently with a chuckle. “i’m just- i’m confused. you seemed to be pretty confident in your opinions of my character. and, well now..”

“i keep thinking about what you said..about mending relationships. and.. i want to mend ours. as i said before, it seems we have more in common than we might think. i want to get to the bottom of that.”

“and i.” jun’s smile grew wider, the corners of his eyes gently wrinkling at the movement. he even mirrored your position, laying comfortably on the grass after ensuring no one was approaching. “i assume you’ve read austen’s works as well?”

you let out a dreamy sigh, earning a gentle laugh from jun in the process. “of course i have. pride and prejudice will always be one of my favorite works.”

“i should have expected as much from you,” jun teased, toying with a blade of grass he had plucked from the earth. he tied it in a few knots, shyly avoiding your gaze.

you laughed somewhat sheepishly as you watched his fingers toy with the blade of grass, feeling dazed. “and what is that supposed to mean?”

“there’s no shame in enjoying a good romance novel,” jun retorted, looking over to you. only then did you once again realize just how close you were now laying together, less than an inch of space between your shoulders and knees.

for a brief moment, it felt as if you forgot how to breathe. you didn’t dare allow your gaze to fall to his lips as you whispered, “is mr. wen junhui a secret avid fan of romance, then?”

“you could say that,” he replied, his tone growing lower than you’ve ever heard. it was all becoming too much for you to handle, the way the gentle breeze pulled his hair over his eyes, locked with yours, his lips gently parting.

“can i ask you a personal question?” you finally spoke up, your voice lower than his.

“yes.”

“you used to wear a ring..” you started, unsure of how to go about your line of questioning.

he seemed to catch on, however, nodding his head once and drawing back a tiny bit from your figure. “i.. don’t want to think of everything as a business transaction. especially not marriage.” he let his hand rest near his side, inevitably brushing against your own. “my father wasn’t happy. or hers, for that matter. but i stand by my decision.”

you nodded in understanding. “i admire your courage. and i understand where you’re coming from, completely.” you found it within yourself to finally look away from him, drawing away from his godly features to instead look up at the graying sky. “if i ever marry, i want to be endlessly, hopelessly in love with him. without any hesitation or reservation.”

you caught him nodding in your peripheral vision, the smallest smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “i want to know the depths of someone’s soul. i want to savor every small moment with her..someone who fulfills me.”

just then, it felt like a light bulb had finally flashed in jun’s mind; his feelings towards his anonymous writing partner lying next to him didn’t seem so complicated anymore. although he was nervous, wishing he could have waited for another moment to confess his truth to her, the small voice in his head was much too persistent. there truly was no time like the present.

with that being said, he pulled the small notebook out of his pocket. you recognized it instantly; it was the same one he carried with him in the bakery. he sat upright as he opened it, silently prompting you to do the same. before you could ask him what this was all about, he spoke in a low tone, “there’s.. something i’ve been meaning to tell you. well.. i didn’t know it was you specifically i would be addressing this to, but..”

“what is all of this about?” you chipped in.

a shaky hand brushed over the parchment before he began to quietly read, “my dearest friend, i’ve waited a long time for this moment. i cannot tell you how many times i’ve wrestled with the dilemma of asking to meet you in person-”

“wait-”

he took another deep breath before releasing it with a shaky sigh, “but now that we’re finally here, face to face, i have finally mustered enough courage to tell you how i truly feel about you.” but of course, in that moment, his actions betrayed his beautiful words. his heart rate increased, which in turn, affected his breathing.

so you gently took the notebook from his shaking hands, offering him a gentle smile. you began to read his words aloud, prompting his cheeks to darken with a blush, “and the truth is, my dearest, that i have never felt so connected to someone in my entire life. i have told you things no one else knows.

“in turn, although i feel like i know everything there is to know about you, i want to know more.” tears once again began to blur your vision, but you pressed on to the best of your ability. “writing this to you, i can’t believe i ever doubted, even for a second, how i truly felt about you. i can’t believe i had any reservations in telling you the truth in the first place.

“and if you don’t feel the same, that is per-”

jun was momentarily stunned when you fell abruptly silent. however, you had only stopped reading for two reasons: tears blurring your vision and falling down the worn parchment being one, while you also saw no need to read any further.

you scooted closer until your knees brushed against his and reached your hand up to cup his cheek. “it..it really was you..” you whispered.

he rose his hand to cover your own, nodding bashfully. “it was,” he mused. “i know.. i know you must be so angry with me and- and.. confused, but i had to tell you. i couldn’t keep it hidden, i-”

just as a short chuckle escaped your lips, you quickly leaned in to silent him by pressing your lips against his. you felt him smile into your lips before returning the kiss, slowly molding his lips with yours. it was gentle, passionate, and it spoke much louder than words in that moment.

when he broke away, his hand found yours and he laced his fingers with your own. as he gave your palm a tight squeeze, his eyes never left yours. “i’m sorry.. i should have told you sooner. much sooner..”

“i understand,” you gently cut him off, connecting your forehead with his. “i knew.. i knew that i was right not to blame you. i blame myself, i should have-”

jun immediately shook his head in protest, his other hand cupping your cheek. “no. i should have been forthright from the start. from the second i met you in person. it could have spared us both a lot of heartache.”

you laughed in agreement, “you are not wrong… what if we made an agreement, that from this moment forward, we are to be completely transparent with each other?”

“i love the sound of that,” jun whispered before placing his lips against yours once more. this kiss was just a bit more heated than the last, as if the two of you were making up for any lost time. the two of you felt as if you were seeing stars the entire time your lips moved against his. and when the kiss finally broke, the two of you were grinning from ear to ear.

jun, of course, was the first to speak up. “is it.. too soon to tell you.. there is a chance i may be.. possibly, a little bit in love with you?”

you laughed, your thumb brushing along his jawline as your free hand squeezed his palm. “maybe..but i am in love with you too. completely. without any hesitation.”

he chuckled helplessly as he listened to you upstage him with your declaration, pressing a kiss against your knuckles. “well.. i love your transparency.”

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xoxochb · 4 months ago

Text

— blank space ꣑ৎ‧₊˚.

★ - “'cause we're young and we're reckless we'll take this way too far It'll leave you breathless, or with a nasty scar”

warnings: enemies not really to lovers more like enemies with benefits, forced marriage, regency era, implied past trysts, smut/hate sex at the end, swearing per usual, not proof read sorry pairing: husband! jason grace x wife! reader a/n: I’ve been reading pride and prejudice and it got me in a regency enemies to lovers mood so here we are 🤗

preposterous. that was the one word of choice to describe your marriage perfectly. it was utterly unfair— you had been minding your business and of course the only son of jupiter had to waltz in and bother you, knocking you “by accident” to the floor. when both your and his parents walked in and saw you two together they immediately declared the only way to stop your banters was to marry you two off

and they hadn’t lied, they hadn’t joked. two months later on the steps of olympus you and jason grace had been wedded under holy matrimony. it wasn’t a pleasant wedding either— though you would surely say that night you were entirely pleasured more than you would like to admit

today, you sit in your palace’s library, atop your cozy couch before a crackling fire. it was a serene moment, you’d finally found peace from your overbearing husband, unfortunately, he finds you soon after these thoughts enter your mind and your silence is ruined. jason watches you attentively as you yell at him for this, but his attention is less on your words but on your appearance. the sun has casted in incandescent glow upon your features, perfectly illuminating them, and your eyes— gods your eyes, so filled with frustration but he knew there was more behind them than that. and you’re hair, cascading like dominoes over your shoulders, and he hates to admit it but he can’t help but trail his eyes over your exposed cleavage

“are you even listening to me?” you ask. jason snaps out of his thoughts quickly at the tone of your voice

“I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

“oh my gods” you slowly run your hands over your face to keep your composure “this is your problem, you never listen to me!”

jason chuckles lightly. “oh, I am listening. I just find it difficult to focus when your lips look so tempting”

you groan. “you are so… arrogant!”

“arrogant? or incredibly charming?” he suggests “but it’s not my fault you’re looking stunning today”

“oh— you are such an…” you find yourself at a loss for words, too angry to continue speaking

“such a what?”

“an ass!” you snap, closing your book atop your lap and standing up to leave. but to your dismay, jason traps you between the nearby wall and himself, placing his hands on your hips

“leave me alone, genius”

“and what do you…” he toys around with the fabric of your dress “plan to do to stop me”

“I will shove your head on a stick”

“ah— careful, my dear. If you continue speaking such vulgar ideas I’ll have to find a better use of that mouth of yours”

“you would not. I will not allow it” you attempt to escape his embrace but his grasp only grows tighter

“my dear wife, where do you think you’re going? I hope you’re not thinking of going to our shared bedroom… I find if we end up there you may never leave my touch”

you squint your eyes up at him. there was no word in the english dictionary you could find to describe your full frustration. instead, you part your dress— and feel around for your dagger strapped underneath your garter. you fail to realize a pair of electric blue eyes trailing over your now exposed skin. you hold the dagger up to jason’s chin in hopes he’ll take a hint to at last leave you alone

“do not make me use it. it would be a shame to have to destroy my beloved with such awful crimson liquid”

“put it down, darling” he takes the dagger from your hands, throwing it onto the floor somewhere within the room. suddenly, the moment is seeming too intimate for enemies. “that’s better. now, perhaps you’ll behave yourself after this little lesson we’ve had”

your glare only grows from where. “I most certainly will not”

“I suppose then, my sweet wife, I’ll have to teach you another lesson” jason trails a finger along your jaw, eliciting a shiver to run down your back. and his lips, oh gods, they’re almost attached with yours, if only he would move a centimeter

“how do you plan to do that?”

“I have a few ideas in mind,” you feel his hot breath against your skin, he moves to kiss your neck, and trails down to place another open-mouthed kiss over your pulse point “but I suppose they’re all to risqué to be said out loud”

“try me” you command, despite an utter flustered state. his hand had now traveled down to the exposed skin of your thigh, tracing circles upon it, and occasionally toying with the edge of your dress

“do you think you can handle them?”

“I do. please, share your thoughts, dear husband” you say sarcastically. his lips trail down to place fluttery pecks over the valley between your breasts

“firstly, I would take you to our bedroom and lock the door. then, I would take my sweet time with you. I would touch you until you desperately crave more of me”

“you think to highly in the clouds”

“do I?” his fingers begin to untie the strings of your dress, slowly sliding it down your shoulders at almost an antagonizing rate “or do I simply speak of what you wish for me to do to you?”

you respond with only silence. he guides you back to the couch you previously sit atop, sliding the remainders of your dress of beneath him

“you look beautiful, darling”

“you… are fucking terrible” you breathe out. but in response, jason only laughs and begins trailing his lips down your skin as his hands fumble with the clip of your bra so he can reach more of your skin. and finally, he gets it undone. you make no move to prevent him from sliding it down along your arms. you wish, however, that you could stop him— but you’re to eager to have him take you so you allow him to do whatever he pleases with the new (ish) found skin

you allow him to place his lips further down your body, that is until they now reach the edge of your underwear. he throws a glance up to your flushed face with a smirk before sliding those down your legs before, now, kissing your inner thighs simply teasing you. he knows for a fact that this will get a rise from you soon enough, perhaps make you regret pulling a dagger on him. but you keep your mouth shut— you know him all too well. in response he treats you the same, and without warning he begins swirling his tongue upon your clit, instantly eliciting a moan from your mouth. and he surely was not lying, he took his time savoring your sweetness

but after moments he picks up the pace, realizing this was not enough to put you in your place, and as you squirm, jason takes a tight grip of your thighs to keep you in place as his tongue continues to work you. you attempt to mutter coherent pleads for him to slow his pace but he doesn’t listen to a single mumbled word, in fact, his pace increases after each of your requests. your legs tremble as you attempt with everything in you to stop him but it appears nothing seems to work for only a moment until he backs away for a moment and murmurs a demand for you to hold on for a moment. you watch as he begins undressing himself now. panting, you wait for him to do something, anything. but he lifts himself to be face-to-face with you with such a sadistic facial expression, how you wish you were able to form a full adult sentence, you would’ve had your dagger shoved inside of him by now

you whisper, “I hate you” and though your statement holds false information, it holds just the same truth as ever

#xoxochb #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo fandom #percy jackson #pjo #percy series #jason grace imagines #jason grace pjo #jason grace x y/n #jason grace x reader #jason grace x you #jason grace smut #jason grace #riordanverse x reader #riordan universe #riordanverse #percy jackson x reader

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itsgrimeytime · 2 years ago

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@imaginemyfavoritefics

Magnolia in May (Part Nine) || Rick Grimes (TWD) x Greene!f!reader Regency AU

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8...

Taglist: @loliakeoghan23 @belaballs @curlycarley

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration (in honor of Speak Now Taylor's Version): Enchanted by Taylor Swift

Summary: Your town was small, not the smallest you knew, but anyone of high fortune was the gossip of the week. Predictably, Richard Grimes was a thing of whispers -rumors of a search for marriage among the grassy hills. You weren't one to buy into town gossip, but something about him... just seemed a little too intriguing.

TWS: secrets, crying, confrontation, insecurities, and yelling (more so emotionally stressed words).

[[A/N: y'all ready for this one? I don't think so besties. Repeat after me, FAMILY DRAMA!!! Confrontation beyond belief in a very regency-accurate way. So... Thanks for reading :)) ]]

You don't know how long you stayed there, by the letters, the notes, the envelopes -staring at them as if their words would change. Their intentions would change.

The notes, the letter- It all seemed too much then, as you detailed each date, trying to confirm that he was still waiting, that you had a chance. That you had a choice.

And you heard the door -it was the only thing that shook you out of your state -rereading each one with a sort of hope that only diminished as you continued to think of it. The dates were haunting your head, as you tried to scour if you'd remembered any noise of Lori leaving the estate, or any news of reconciliation for that matter-

But it was of no consequence, as if any such gossip existed your close companions wouldn't have told you so. You were treated as a rather fragile doll, for good reason, but still, the idea of everyone teetering around you so tediously did not feel good.

You'd found Maggie even hesitant to discuss any of the happenings with Mr. Rhee, you always had to prod them out of her. It wasn't that she wasn't wishing to share, more so it was she didn't want to brag -to hurt you. It was a sweet notion, but made you feel as though you were stuck out like a sore thumb -not as involved with your sisters' lives as you once were. It stung the wound you'd already held.

"Y/N, darling," Headmistress started -loud and arrogant, ready to talk your ear off as she always was, "-you will simply not believe what the Henningtons were wearing out! In broad daylight-"

Suddenly, her eyes landed upon you -in a right state, and her mouth opened to speak, eyebrows furrowed in concern. Something in you bit at the concern she showed, as she had most directly been meddling in your life and now, now you weren't even sure you could fix it.

She stood rather frozen in the entryway, detailing the very chaos you'd slipped onto the table -torn paper and messy stacks. Just before she could speak though, her eyes caught on the envelopes -her own handwriting sticking out brightly for her to see. She was caught, and something in you glowered with the knowledge.

"Beth, dear, go to your room."

Beth, who had peeked her head around the door merely stalled upon the paper -a sort of guilt flickering through her blue eyes that almost made you forgive her for sending the letters right there. And despite the orders, she stayed rather still. Expectant.

"Beth-" Headmistress repeated, but you couldn't let her continue -heart vulnerable, thrown out onto the table, you had to know why.

"How long?"

"Y/N, please-" she echoed rather composed but you saw something shrink underneath her skin -pride maybe, "-don't make this matter so public. Let's wait for Beth to-"

"How long?"

Your Headmistress sighed -a deep, disappointed sigh, and motioned to the mess on the table, "I believe you know that."

"Well," you tilted -voice shaky and cracked but still with power, with feeling, "-let's say I wish to hear it from you. How long?"

"I've rather lost count," she responded, pulling herself into a chair -sort of a deep defeated sort of air around her, "-but I believe since the day you went to his estate. And, every few days since."

"Is this-" you echoed, holding the stack close to your chest (you'd put them in your ribs right next to your heart if you could), "-Is this all of them?"

"Yes," she answered, directly, "-unless we are to receive one today. That is the lot of them."

"You believe," you started -a sort of broken sob in between what you could say, "-You believe he's still sending them?"

"Darling," Headmistress spoke -openly and vulnerably, "-I'd very much doubt those are his last effort."

"How could you know that?" you spoke -incredulously, "You've kept me from even responding, how do I not know that the time has passed that you have rui-"

"He was there," Beth suddenly spoke, eager to help -something in you softened at the effort, "-at the, at the shops. He was there."

You stopped, "What...? Did he-"

She cut you off, rushing up to your side -blue eyes sparkling in a way you found rather endearing (realizing this was her way of fixing something you weren't half as bothered by), "All he spoke of was you, asked if you were well. He was worried, I could tell. Followed us around through the markets. When Headmistress wasn't looking, he... he thanked me for-"

"Sending the letters," you finished, smoothing your face into one of ease -you didn't wish her to worry, "-I know. The courier is a bit of a tattle."

Beth smiled, big and bright, with a sort of natural ease wrapping you in her arms -it was a touch awkward, just because of the height difference. But you found you didn't mind. Something in you clicking back into place, fixed.

"Headmistress," you spoke through a few sniffles and a dry throat, "-did you... did you read them?"

She seemed a bit surprised at the question -face flickering between a few movements, "No, I- I didn't wish to. I thought it was best. If I wouldn't let you, why should I? I'd heard from the papers the story and wasn't going to let smooth words offer your heart on a platter. I suppose I... I supposed I made a rather quick assumption."

"Would you?" you asked -open and genuine, "-Would you read them?"

"I suppose, if you wish me to, I wouldn't have a reason not to."

"Thank you," you answered, simply, before your head got a treacherous idea -a terrible one really, but time was not on your side, "-I... Do you think he's still there? At the markets?"

"Frankly, dear," the Headmistress said rather bluntly -gently carding through the paper you'd ever-so-gently handed her, "-I'm surprised he's not at our front door."

"He is," Beth answered, rather quickly -as the two of you turned to match her, "-I go to the library some evenings to... to gather my new read, and I sit at the rather large window. If no book interests me, I often people watch to pass the time, but I-" she regains focus, "-I've seen him. He stays rather long at the market, particularly at a single stall-"

Something clicked in you then, as you whispered (hope sparking up your soul so fervently it nearly burned), "Mr. Elliotts.'"

"The fruit stall?" Headmistress asked -rather judgementally, "-surely not. That man is-"

She stopped, staring at you -dark eyes broke open, vulnerable, and a sort of understanding smoothing over her features -something of guilt tinged her tone, "It's where you met, isn't it?"

"It is," you exhaled, tears biting at your eyes but something of a smile urging across your lips. You felt as if you'd giggle soon enough, you surely must've looked deranged to anyone else, but Headmistress understood.

"Oh, darling," she echoed -somewhat of happy tears choking up her throat as well, "-you're falling in love with him, aren't you?"

"At this point," you laughed, a sort of unbelievable surge of giddiness brushing along your skin, "-I'm nearly finished."

"Oh, this is surely wonderful," Headmistress stood -fanning desperately at her face, impatiently, "-darling, let's go. Up, up! You cannot greet the man looking as you do. Beth, come. She must be stunning-"

"Headmistress, I really-"

"Nonsense, darling," she interrupted you, already tugging your hair loose, "-let Ms. Elisa do her magic, yes?"

It was a strangely quick process, you found. Merely a few moments were spent tying your hair up and away and the most were spent choosing the dress -she'd been persistent on a casual sort of tone. Something light and airy, one you'd happily wear around the residence - "As if you'd never changed at all." Even going as far as pulling a few framing hairs loose and keeping your frustratingly pink cheeks natural.

After it all, you were essentially shoved out the door -hearing the metal drag of the lock behind you.

You'd felt quite odd as if you were floating -stalled in place, as the evening sun settled across your skin. The idea of approaching him wasn't as disconnected as it was mere seconds ago when it had only been a connection through paper -when it hadn't quite been real.

Even standing here, you could see the bustle of people from the markets -women holding new purses, men brandishing new coats, and children playing with new toys. The flow of the crowd was directly from the center of stalls -a wonderous sort of buzz to and fro.

With a deep breath, you started upon the road -legs guiding you as your heart beat ever so loudly in your chest. It was as if you were the only one on the street, all sound drowning out other than the thrum of your pulse -a sort of sense of calm and anxiety rattling against your skull. Your feet were naturally guided, this path was so in tune with you -it was one you'd harbor you could follow in your sleep, it was so familiar.

Feet paddling against the pavement, you made your way to the stalls -it was rather unfamiliar in the evening light, but somehow far more beautiful than it was in the mornings. The beautiful tinge of orange swallows the wood of each stall and the storefronts reflect the tone wondrously -something you could find ever so slightly put you at ease. Slowing your heart, you trailed to the center of the plaza -watching as groups slid past -eyes peered for someone you yearned to finally see again.

Thoughts echoing in your head, loud and brash, what if I'm too late? What if he had lost hope? What if he wasn't here? Did you have the guts to attend to the estate?

Sure, you were invited but at this point in time, you weren't sure you'd be welcomed. The idea was so far from tangible, much like the idea that he'd ever choose you -you could barely grasp it now, but the idea that you may have missed it? Would leave you more desolate than you think could ever be fixed -especially after the letter, and the notes.

Your eyes swung across the square, feet leading you far ahead than where your mind was -searching desperately, hoping.

What if he was gone? you suddenly thought -a flurry of anxious words, hope snuffing out as you roamed closer and closer, What if this was it? Could you even-

And then, you saw him.

Stood just by Mr. Elliotts' stall -a basket of fruit teetering on his arm, as he seemed focused on the man, lost in one of his stories. You'd imagine you'd already heard it and briefly wondered perhaps which ones he knew now. Mr. Grimes looked casual, curls rather messy against his tanned skin -white button-up rolled up at the sleeves and dirt, actual dirt, stained across the expanse of ivory. Gone were the vests, and instead was a brown coat held by the tips of his fingers as it was thrown over his shoulder -expecting the cold of the sun setting. Far more prepared than you had been.

It was then, the world decided, as you stood -rather aimlessly that Mr. Elliotts startlingly saw you.

You hadn't known exactly why he'd looked your way, you couldn't even guess really but he did. A sort of sweep over you, as if in disbelief, perhaps because you looked rather disheveled. On top of the deliberate moves by your Headmistress, you'd brushed upon crowds of people -so focused that you couldn't quite see what was in front of you. You scrubbed at your cheek, insecurely, fully aware that you looked as though you'd been crying.

Mr. Grimes naturally caught the dispersed attention, and you could swear the world slowed as he seemed to follow Mr. Elliotts' attention -blue eyes landing squarely on you. Properly deranged-looking you without a proper coat for the chill of night, dress crumpled, flushed cheeks for far more than one reason. You were sure you looked rather improper, less than graceful, full of a crowd of women who certainly looked much more composed-

And yet, he stalled -eyes flickering over you like he could hardly believe you were real. Eyes lingering along your hands, you realized just then that you still held his letter -in a sort of death grip between your fingers, the paper crinkling ever so slightly at the pressure.

His eyes hovered there, over the letter of which he knew of the exact context -something so vulnerable there. Even as the blue swam over your face noticeably focused on your eyes -your cheeks, where you could see your lack of composure. The crying-

Before you could even blink, he was making strides toward you -intense eyes settling upon you, gentle, concerned.

"Ms. Greene," he exhaled, breathless -it made your heart thrum against your skin, "-I... Is everythin' alright? Do you need anythin' from-"

Your mind was like a low hum, everything spinning around you so harshly -something warm at him being here, right in front of you. It felt like so many different things had built up until now like a wave pushed past you -your mouth opening before you could properly decide what you wished to say-

"I got your letter."

And your voice was surely broken, and cracked and your cheeks scrubbed pink. Your hair was out of place, your dress crumpled -you were anything but composed.

But he looked at you so carefully still like a gust of wind could blow you away and he'd wished to have you stay-

"You did? Daryl-" he started, slowly, "-Mr. Dixon said you had. I suppose I jus' wasn't sure-"

"If I received it?" you finished, rather directly, "-I did, I've... Despite a few setbacks, I've read them all."

"The invitations?" he echoed -his eyes still echoing a deep sort of wonder that you stood before him, it made your head swirl.

"Yes," you answered, "-everything, I've- everything."

It was silent for a moment, a heavy sort of silence that felt as if it was suffocating -swallowing you whole. And something in your brain ticked, a desperate sort of thought of if you had been too late -if your moment had passed, if you didn't say it now would you ever be able to, if he was truly here for you how much longer-

"I-" you echoed, bursting from your soul -spilling past your lips, "-Forgive me for my frankness, but I can hardly think of anything else. Has the time passed? I've read through your notes, your letter, and I hope... I hate to hope, truly. But I hope to not be too late, Mr. Grimes because I-"

He opened his mouth to speak, but you couldn't let him, not when you had so much to say-

"-I believe I've fallen in love with you. Most completely."

You couldn't bare to look at him, squeezing the letter to your chest -fingers finding solace in its texture. You know you should've stopped there, but it only kept coming to you, like everything you had wanted to say was spilling over.

So, your mouth moved before you could rationalize it, "-And I know the situation is rather complicated, as you've written, and that even though your affections may lie with me, you may still choose differently. I understand that it's a rather complex issue that has been brought upon you and I'm certainly not making it any easier-"

"Ms. Greene-"

"-and your notes were far from today, your feelings may have changed somewhere along the way. In that case, there is nothing for me here. So, I wish to ask you-"

"Ms. Greene-"

"-if you wish to answer, I suppose, am I too late? If those sentiments you've written are no longer true, I must know now, despite the devastation it might cause-"

"Y/N, please," he interrupted, improperly but he spoke softly, trying to gain your attention, gain your focus, "-breathe."

You paused, inhaling a deep sort of breath, and trying desperately to stop the urge of the tears behind your eyes, "I'm sorry, Mr. Grimes, I know this is all rather sudden, and I look dreadful -I've been crying all evening, it's been an unbelievable span of days. But I truly just wished you to know-"

"Ms. Greene," he urged, soft and the low timber of his voice -hand extended forward with a handkerchief (white satin and embroidered), "-please, I ask of ya to not speak of yourself 'at way. You look far from dreadful."

"Oh please," you echoed -gently accepting the handkerchief like it was a sort of priceless gem, "-Mr. Grimes, there is no need to flatter me so, I know-"

"Ms. Greene, you are certainly the finest woman I 'ave ever laid my eyes on. Especially now."

"Mr. Grimes..."

"And to clear somethin' up directly," he added, tone soft and careful like maybe you were a sort of priceless gem, "-there was never a 'too late'. Not- Not for you."

"That's preposterous, truly," you retorted, "-I would not believe so. I'm not- You must have had a limit, and there is no shame in that for I deserve it-"

"Ms. Y/N," he whispered, eyes so blue that you'd nearly forgotten how to breathe, "-if you wished me to, I would've waited forever."

"You-" you started, breathless and a bit in disbelief, "-I'm not asking you to wait forever. I'm... I'm here. And you're at the fruit stall, and I guess I thought- I guess I thought maybe you'd chosen me."

"There was no choosing, Ms. Greene, I-" he paused, flitting over you for a second -thoughtful, fond, "-I'm suddenly not very sure I was clear enough."

"You were," you echoed but it seemed a little hollow. Even now, as you stood here. You couldn't believe it, you weren't sure.

"If there was enough doubt in your mind to break your heart as it did," he spoke -tone serious and unflinching, "-then I certainly was not clear enough."

"Mr. Grimes, your letters-" you started, trying to soothe, to fix, to patch, "-they spoke plenty. You don't-"

"I wish to," he responded, pulling your hands up (letter tucked safely into your palm) to press his lips to them -soft and yet pointed, before smirking, a familiar sort of look settled upon his face, "-Think of it as a gift."

You laughed, pushing through the stuffiness of your nose, "Haven't you had enough of that already?"

He grinned, the kind that crinkled at the eyes before faltering, pulling your hands down to envelope them with his own -all calloused fingertips and tan skin, "Your hands are cold."

"It's a rather chilly night, Mr. Grimes."

He rolled his eyes playfully, but the concern stayed firmly where it was, "And your coat?"

"I... I forgot it," you spoke honestly, "-I didn't want to miss you somehow, I- I wasn't thinking."

He merely smiled, a little teasingly, "But ya remembered my letter?"

"I was-" you groaned but bit back a grin -you had missed this dearly, "-I feel as though I can't say anything right here, Mr. Grimes."

He laughed, out loud -something in you was nearly giddy, and without hesitation, shrugged off his brown coat you'd noticed from earlier. Before you could so much as speak a word, he'd draped it over the back of your shoulders -brown fabric a mere sponge for the woodsy fragrance that seemed to trail him around. You found it to be rather comforting, and rather warm.

"That wasn't necessary," you spoke, softly -fondly at the man in front of you. Something in your heart flipped as he seemed to preen with you wearing his coat -proud.

"It was," he argued with no bite.

"Right, and what's supposed to keep you warm then?"

"You," he answered -simply, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, wrapping his hand around yours again, "-can I walk ya home, Ms. Greene?"

"Hmm," you hummed, pretending to think about it -tapping your chin in mock thought, "-I suppose."

"You suppose?"

"Only because I believe I have a stalker," you spoke, tone anything but serious. And even still, you felt him stiffen slightly as you took his arm.

"No-" he stressed -dramatically.

"Oh, yes," you continued, tightening your fingertips around his arm -just for the comfort of him being real, being there, "-keeps sending me letters by couriers every day, very, very persistent, he is."

Mr. Grimes smiled, a sort of hazy, fond one, before fully turning to you -eyes focused, "If I summon you, will ya come tomorrow?"

"Yes," you responded -unflinchingly, "-I find I'd do rather anything you'd ask of me, Mr. Grimes."

Mr. Grimes stalled for a moment, blue eyes just staring (as he always was), and with the tiniest of movements, he pushed one of your framing hairs back behind your ear. A deep thrum of his attention laid heavily on you, once again, turned you a rather further crimson.

"Good," he merely smiled at the flush (fond), before stepping back -reasserting your hold on his arm and walking towards your home, "-we 'ave a lot to discuss."

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fictionadventurer · 7 months ago

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1980 Pride and Prejudice Episode 1 Thoughts

I'm kind of digging the low-budget 1980s artificiality. Feels comfortable.

Love Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, and the way the script highlights the sitcom vibes of the story, especially in their scenes.

This Lizzie is amazing. She's lively, witty, mischievous, but without feeling like a modern girl in Regency dress. I think I started to fall a little bit in love with her.

Not too fond of Jane so far. Maybe I'm too influenced by other adaptations' takes on her, but she just doesn't act like Jane. I didn't even know which sister was Jane until after the first ball.

This Bingley's a touch too much on the buffoonish side. Though the scenes of banter with Darcy and Lizzie were well-done.

(I'm a bit disappointed they cut out a lot of banter in the letter-writing scene. Now "if Darcy were not such a great tall fellow" seems to come out of nowhere, because we don't get Bingley's witty rejoinder about "comparative heights and sizes").

I'm surprised by how much focus there is on Mary, though disappointed that they portray her piano-playing as "she's terrible" and not "she's better than Lizzie but too stiff and artificial".

Also a lot of Kitty and Lydia! Excellent! (We get the coughing scene!)

Sir William Lucas and Charlotte are both very good.

Everything I've ever heard about this adaptation has focused on how robotic this Darcy is. I guess that skewed my expectations, because I found him shockingly expressive. He's reserved, haughty, and wears his good breeding like a mask, but he's not inhuman. There are plenty of moments where he loosens up a bit, or where we can see the humanity behind the iron control. Like the letter-writing scene--Darcy goes after Bingley for boasting about his poor handwriting, and it might seem like he's just being a pedantic stick-in-the-mud, but he was so straight-faced about it that it was clear to me that he was joking around with a friend.

That first scene with Darcy did feel more like these people were telling us how proud Darcy was before he had a chance to show them.

That first moment with Elizabeth made me realize that the worst thing Darcy says is not "not handsome enough to tempt me" but "I am in no humor to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men." Ouch.

Fascinated by how much of the narration is put into dialogue (and how well it usually works).

There were several points where the dialogue seemed too stilted and artificial, but it's almost word-for-word from the book, so I can't really complain.

I did find myself wondering how well this works for people who don't know the book. Sure, it's almost word-for-word (if abridged and rearranged in places), but is it engaging on its own merits, or just a satisfying watch for the book-loving pedants who can tell it's word-for-word? Because the style of this feels like something that most people wouldn't find engaging if they didn't already know the story.

#pride and prejudice 1980 #pride and prejudice #jane austen #(this adaptation was the main reason i put an austen adaptation category on this month's reading list)#(i found out it was on tubi and it's high time i finally see it)

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irisintheafterglow · 1 year ago

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HAND TWO - PAIR

summary: in a season where you're determined to fly under the radar, newly-returned crown prince!touya todoroki has other ideas. in this hand, a deal is made.

wc: 2k

cw/tags: royalty!au/regency!au, fem!reader, official first meeting, banter and dialogue driven, fake dating, sassy touya again

note: idk how fake dating premises with plots are created like this took me a good 30 minutes of just straight thinking trying to figure out what is a plausible fake dating idea. anyway thank you for all the love on part one, hope you enjoy this part!! also overdue idea credit to @andypantsx3 who originally created a crown prince!touya piece (read it here!) that probably subconsciously inspired this entire series. thank you and hope you enjoy :))

likes, reblogs, and replies are greatly appreciated <3

Your maid’s face was whiter than her knuckles gripping the sides of her apron.

“You have a caller, miss,” she informs you carefully, bowing slowly and failing to hide her trembling. “It is…”

“I am aware of who it is,” you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose between your pointer finger and your thumb. It’d been exactly one week since Prince Touya all but julienned the ego of your pasty-faced suitor and you hadn’t received so much as a letter of greeting from him since then. All you received once the dust settled were mixed expressions of disgust and awe, along with a shit-eating smirk from the royal currently waiting to be led into the drawing room. “My stepmother?”

“At tea, miss, with the neighbors. She won’t be back for several hours.” You swear under your breath. With all other members of the family out of the house and your stepmother bragging about your prospects with the sought-after prince, you were on your own.

“Send him in when the minute hand next strikes six. Tell him I’m in the bath, or something.”

“As you wish, miss.” Your maid nods and promptly exits the room, leaving you slumped on the settee with no ideas but to beeline for the back doors and disappear among the trees of the garden. Hiking up your skirt and slipping into the yard, you’re careful to shut the door quietly behind you.

It’s not that you didn’t want to see him, even though you didn’t; in truth, it was fear of what he might say to you or how you two may interact. How are you supposed to look at a man suspected of committing treason against the king, his own father, and upkeep the manners drilled into your head since birth? It seemed too great of a burden to bear, so you resolved to forget your problems and the stranger in your house by walking amongst the flowers, blue hydrangeas that continued to bloom despite the sweltering summer heatwaves. It’s calming, being alone with nothing but the greenery. As your fingers brush over the delicately clumped petals, the hairs on the back of your neck suddenly stand up stick-straight and you don't need to turn around to see why.

“It’s rude to enter a lady’s house unannounced, Your Highness,” you say into the open air and hear him step out from behind a neighboring tree.

“I believe I was announced, considering the shaken demeanor of your poor maid.” His voice is low and raspy, like he’d just woken up.

“What if I was still in the bath?”

“You’ll have to tell my maids what you use to dry your hair so rapidly,” he replies and you catch him slinking over to you from the corner of your vision, approaching you carefreely with his hands in the pockets of his coat. You don’t look at him yet; in your mind, he was like a monster under the bed. If you simply didn’t look at him, he’d go away. “Unless, of course,” his voice appears over your shoulder and goosebumps break out over your skin. Not yet. Don’t look him in the eyes yet. “You weren’t in the bath at all. At least, not recently.”

“I’m not sure what gave you the right to invade my house and muse upon my bathing habits,” you counter, finally turning to meet his stare and willing yourself not to wither under it. He wasn’t close enough to feel his body heat, but the arrogance that radiated from his entire being was enough to make you sweat more than the bright sun. He considered you curiously, tilting his head to the side and narrowing those molten blue eyes that perplexed you so. You risk a glance at the scar tissue just under his eyes and chin, its deep purple color rumored to be the result of a fire accident while he was sent away. It unnerved you, but you still found the courage to stare back with consideration of your own, challenging him to say something else. His eyes narrow again for half a second before he brushes past you, walking further down your current path in the garden.

“You were keeping me waiting,” he states simply. “Not to mention, I am royalty.” You freeze, keenly aware of the power of the man admiring your daisies. “I believe it is you who should be considered the rude one.” The teasing lilt in his voice is not lost to you, but you’re too dumbfounded by his bluntness to think on it further.

“Argues the one who won my affections and then refrained from any means of communication for a week,” you point out with slight irritation, following him around the bend at a safe distance. He hums again thoughtfully, walking among the flowers like it was his property. Your tease falls from your lips before you can stop it. “Did His Highness run out of royal parchment to write his letters?”

“Royal candle wax, actually,” he answers stoically, but you catch the mischievous shine in his eyes when they flick to meet yours. “Dreadful effort, trying to write without my beloved candle lit.”

“Oh, and what is a prince to do?” You’re unable to hide the smirk that finds its way onto your face and he seems to notice your less-hostile demeanor, the faintest amusement breaking out on his features. Handsome features, you had to stop yourself from admitting. “I don’t understand,” you say after a deep exhale.

“I believe the candle was a gift from my great-grandfather.” His eyes continue to look over the rainbow of petals lightly swaying in the breeze. “Terribly well-loved by my father and the court alike.”

“No, Your Highness–”

“If this is to work, you must refer to me as Touya.” He’s still not looking at you.

“That is precisely what I don’t understand.” You muster up what courage you could to close the distance between you two, crossing your arms to properly confront him. “What are you trying to play at, Your Highness? What is supposed to ‘work?’ With all due respect, I’d like to know now if I am one of your latest games to irritate your relatives.”

“And what would you do if you were?” Shit. His attention moves from the flowers to your face and you’re met with the same cold, unwavering stare from the week prior. “What could you do, realistically, but play along? I am royalty.”

“You needn’t keep reminding me, sir,” you mumble. “But before we continue, I feel you must know. I did not have the intention of entertaining suitors this season.” You catch one of the maids peeping from around the corner of a topiary and motion for her to prepare tea for you and your caller.

“What were you doing at the presentation duels, then?”

“Fulfilling the wishes of my stepmother,” you answer wryly. “Whatever plans you have devised, I am the wrong lady to assist in enacting them.”

“I imagine that, instead of participating in this season, you would rather be reading from the libraries of King All Might himself?” The Prince falls into step behind you while you make your way to the garden’s gazebo, fully furnished to accommodate callers. You sensed, however, this particular suitor would rather sit on the floor than at your family’s lofty dining set.

“I’m surprised you understand,” you remark, neatening a stray napkin. When you look behind you, the prince is leaning his shoulder against the frame of the gazebo and observing you. Your manners somehow return, despite his lack thereof. “Do you prefer Earl Grey or green?”

“Neither,” he replies immediately. “I don’t care for tea.”

“Nor do I, but the servants will linger if we don’t give them a chance to gossip in the kitchen.” The prince’s eyes narrow once again only for a moment, like you said something unexpected.

“In that case, tell them green.” You murmur his request to the nearest servant and the handful subtly eavesdropping politely excuse themselves back into the house, no doubt eager to relay what little information you and the prince had exchanged.

“You still haven’t enlightened me on why, of all the ladies present at the duels, you chose to duel for my hand,” you begin as he takes his seat across from you and pops a piece of fruit into his mouth. “Especially when I am guaranteed to hinder any plans you have for–”

“You know nothing of my plans, as of yet,” he interjects. His face is carefully blank, seemingly too calm for your present situation. “Your reluctance to entertain suitors is exactly what is going to help me leave this kingdom.”

“I don’t understand,” you reiterate. “Your Highness, I do not wish to be in this season at all.”

“I share the same sentiment. Here is my proposal that will, in theory, rid us of both of our stressors: I will court you and, on the night of my father’s ball where I will surely propose, I will disappear, leaving you with nothing but a broken heart and a humble reparation of $100,000. A percentage of which, I note, can then be used to book passage out of Musutafu and find those books from King All Might’s mythical library. Do you follow?” You don’t remember when your jaw fell open, but it takes significant effort to regain your composure. When you eventually register what the prince had just offered, your face burns from a feeling you had never experienced before. It was a mixture of shame and shock, but mostly…excitement?

“You’re out of your mind,” you manage to force out. “I don’t think–How could we–It would never work!” What the hell was he thinking?

“You don’t know that,” he answers coolly. Maybe he’s not thinking at all. Maybe the prince is an idiot.

“But why not leave now? Why wait until the night of your father’s ball?” An unreadable look crosses over his face, one that makes your stomach turn. He fixes himself in a blink, though, and the sudden darkness that fell over the prince’s face is gone before you can comment on it. “I just don’t understand why you need my help doing this, Your Highness.”

“My father grows impatient,” he admits bitterly and when you meet his gaze, it’s burning. “He wishes to crown me as king within three month’s time, and I–”

“You do not wish to rule,” you finish quietly, the realization clicking together in your mind. “By courting a lady, you force him to put off your coronation until you propose.”

“By courting you,” he explains further, “I also guarantee that this affair will remain strictly one of business.” You can’t help the scoff that leaves your mouth.

“You think that if a woman were to fall in love with you, she would reveal your true whereabouts?”

“Women are fickle creatures,” he states simply. “You did not wish to fall in love this season, so you will not reveal my true whereabouts once I have faked my passing.” He sighs, pulling back the sleeve of his coat and checking the time on his watch. “It really is quite simple. Allow me to court you, stay silent about my disappearance, and be rewarded with $100,000.”

“And if we’re caught? If this charade is revealed as a farce and your father declares you King the following day?”

“Doubt in my plans is the first step away from succeeding,” he concludes. An approaching servant with a fresh pot of tea momentarily takes your attention and the prince stands, bowing in farewell while you’re still frozen behind your teacup. “I do hope you’ll join me at the races tomorrow afternoon,” he drawls out your name once the servant places the pot on the small table. His voice drips honey-sweet poison, drawing you in even as your body screams at you to run. The message hidden beneath his words, however, is clearer than crystal. “But, in the case of your absence, I will assume my affections have been denied.” You stand, dipping into a graceful curtsy. As you rise, your words ring in your ears before you can stop them.

“I look forward to our time together, Your Highness.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#dabi x you #dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #touya todoroki x you #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki x y/n #mha x you #mha x reader #mha x y/n #touya x you #touya x reader #touya x y/n #bnha x you #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n

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emkayewrites · 6 months ago

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Lukola fanfiction from Luke's POV- Luke and Nicola are filming the carriage scene but both of them secretly like each other - and both of them are unavailable.

(Excerpt taken from my fanfiction 'Curtain Fall')

5th November 2022 – London (UK)

It was a surreal experience to be on a soundstage, even though he had been on dozens of them by this point in his career.

The Bridgerton production did soundstages like nowhere else. Everything was huge, and everything was opulent. He stood in front of a dark blue, four-wheeled carriage. It was elegant with an exterior adorned with intricate gold-leaf patterns and lacquered wood that contrasted sharply with its’ gleaming brass fittings. It stood looking rather out of place in front of a giant green screen, in the middle of the chasmic space that was Soundstage 12.

He was dressed in the finest formalwear that the Regency Period had to offer, and he was covered in what he approximated to be about twelve layers of make-up and two entire cans of hairspray.

He usually felt a mixture of nerves and excitement before filming a scene as crucial as the one they were about to film. Today, he was just plain nervous.

He was hardly able to take note of the other people on the soundstage. At one far end, there were several chairs and tables surrounded by a small group of the hair and make-up team. At another end, there were a handful of crew members working with cables, rigging and lighting fixtures. Usually, he would be approaching them all, making small talk, trying to ease his own racing mind but he felt too unsettled to make conversation.

He knew that the way he was feeling was not just about the nature of the scene they were about to film. It was about her. She stood several feet away from him with Erika and John adding touches to her make-up and clothes. She was resplendent in a shimmering baby blue gown that was cinched in a way that flattered both her waist and her ample breasts.

Breasts he would have to touch again.

All he wanted to do was to touch her again.

He felt nauseous.

At the same time, he knew that was the very last thing he should do.

He sensed there was something different in her since that night in his trailer too. She appeared to keep more of a distance, the bantering dialogue they usually had was reduced to a few quips. He could not be sure, but he felt some sort of frustration emanating from her. As if she wanted to say something but could not. He could also be imagining it. He did a lot of that recently. Imagining conversations with her. Imagining being with her. He then got angry at himself. Then he felt the inevitable anxiety that always came when he realised that he was having strong feelings for the woman he would now have to act like he was having strong feelings for.

His fathers’ advice echoed in his mind: Keep the work as work, and don’t neglect your real life. How could he do that when the real life was becoming his work, and the work was becoming his real life?

Six burly-looking men of various ages approached the carriage. Andrew trailed behind them, a headset wrapped around his neck and clipboard in hand. Andrew, their director, was a slight man in his earlier forties with a refined yet approachable air about him. He gestured for both Luke and Nicola to come towards him.

“Guys, guys… you both look incredible.” Andrew’s eyes beamed with enthusiasm. “Wow!”

In that moment, Luke felt thankful that it was Andrew who was going to be taking them through these scenes. There was nothing like having a director that not only led you through your scenes, but also lifted you up and empowered you throughout the process.

“Right, so the way we’ll do this is – the camera will be in the carriage with you guys, we’ll be back over here with the monitors to give that added illusion of intimacy in there.” Andrew explained, pointing to the monitor setup a few feet away.

“And these lovely men…” Andrew motioned to the guys standing by the carriage. “They will be our carriage hydraulics! We can’t have the carriage attached to real horses for a scene like this, so this was Netflix’s next best offer.”

“Well, we’ll try not to make it too long of a shoot day for you guys.” Luke found himself saying with a nervous chuckle.

“Right, so we’ll get you guys up into position…” Andrew nodded towards the carriage.

Luke felt the instinct to go to Nicola, to take her by the hand and guide her up onto the carriage, but one of the carriage men beat him to it.

They stepped into the luxurious interior and seated themselves opposite one another as the script requested. Andrew looked in through the window at them.

“So, we’ll be on the monitors and the camera will follow you from there…” He motioned to the other side of the carriage, where a camera was positioned, looking in at them through the window.

Luke watched Nicola orient herself, taking note of the cues Andrew was outlining. He was taken aback by how intimate it all felt now that he was inside the carriage. It was just going to be them and one camera.

“That looking good to you, Luke?” Andrew interrupted his thoughts. Luke was not sure he had taken everything in, but he felt compelled to nod.

“Alright, so we’ve got this mixture of anger and hurt – but there is a tension running underneath it all.” Andrew’s eyes lit up again. “It’s the tension of longing. And that tension finally breaks to give us – the carriage scene!”

“Let’s do this!” Nicola high-fived Andrew, matching his excitement.

He could not ignore how she lit up when she smiled. He thought about how it did not help that she was made up to resemble an actual Goddess on earth.

“Alright, great! On my cue, guys.” Andrew pulled the headset over his head and moved away from them. They heard his echoing footsteps recede as the entire soundstage became eerily silent. The lighting around them dimmed. Suddenly, the carriage started to move in an undulating way.

Luke’s eyes met Nicola’s and for a second, they both stifled a giggle at the ridiculousness of it all.

They heard Andrew’s shout: “ACTION!”

Then their masks came down.

Nicola vanished, and the misty-eyed Penelope sat before him, a look of anger etched on her face.

He fixed her with a stoic look as he spoke: “You cannot marry that man. He will leave you, and he is too particular.”

He watched her watching him, her face getting angrier.

“And he is – he is just not right for you, Pen.” He continued, part-insisting, part-pleading.

She shook her head furiously at him. “He did not propose.”

He stared at her, stunned.

“In fact, he rejected me because of you.” She practically spat the words out. “Because the scene you caused led him to believe you have feelings for me. An idea so preposterous, I do not know what to do besides laugh.”

There were times when she was acting that he found himself lost in what she was doing. The way she conveyed emotions with so much power and grace. He watched her with awe.

She continued, through gritted teeth: “Now, will you please leave me alone and let us ride home in silence?”

His heart was racing and there were tears in his eyes as he leaned forward.

“I cannot.” His tone was defiant.

“Please!” She snapped at him, near tears herself.

“I cannot!” He found himself snapping back, a hot, angry tear rolling down his cheek. He could no longer tell if they were acting tears, or tears of real frustration.

“Because…” He swallowed, as if mustering up his courage. “What if I did have feelings for you?”

He felt the nausea again. He wanted to remind himself that this was acting, that he should not be having such a visceral reaction to those words but at the same time, he knew it was helping his performance.

“What?” She blinked at him, still frowning.

He moved so that he was closer to her and then knelt before her. He was aware he was shaking. His breath was laboured.

“I have spent so long trying to feel less, trying to be the kind of man society expects me to be.” He reached forward for her hands, his nerves increasing as he was aware she was surely able to feel the sweat on his palms and feel how much he was shaking. He found himself squeezing her hands tightly, as if to anchor himself.

“And for a moment, I thought I had succeeded.” He continued. “But these past few weeks have been full of confounding feelings.”

Where did Colin end and he begin? He thought to himself. He felt himself getting choked up. He felt the weeks of frustration and conflicting emotions rising inside him.

“Feelings like a total inability to stop thinking about you. About that kiss.”

She reacted to his words with a small gasp.

“Feelings like dreaming of you when I’m asleep. And in fact, preferring sleep because that is where I might find you. A feeling that is like torture.”

Speaking these words felt terrifying, electrifying and cathartic all at once. Another tear rolled down his cheek.

“One which I cannot… do not… and will not give up.” He spoke emphatically.

“Please. Do not say things you do not mean.” She shook her head at him, disbelieving.

“But I do mean it. It is everything I have wanted to say to you… for weeks.”

An expression of confusion and pain appeared on her face.

“But… Colin, we are friends.”

Even though the rejection was merely playacting, it still stung.

“Yes, but we…” He spoke with hurt in his voice. He wanted to say more but swallowed back his words and recomposed himself. He moved back to his seat. “Forgive me. I do not know what I was thinking.”

“But I’d very much like to be more than friends.”

He stared at her with a mixture of amazement and desire.

“So much more.” She added, a look of longing in her eyes.

He moved closer to her, and for a moment, their faces met, and they took each other in, both breathing heavily. All he wanted to do was to kiss her, but he was also terrified of what that would do to him. Then, their mouths met in a passionate kiss.

He found his mind and body travel back… back to the inside of his trailer… back with his hands all over her. Her mouth and body responded to his with a willingness and desire equal to his own.

He felt the stickiness of her lipstick smearing around the corners of his mouth, her hands in his hair – neither of them having any thought for their hair or make-up.

And then suddenly, he heard it as she did because they found themselves springing away from one another at the same time.

“CUUUUUUUUUUUT!”

A bright light exploded in their faces as the spotlight above them came back to life. Andrew and Liam, the cinematographer, were stood by the window next to the camera. Andrew surveyed their messy faces and hair with wide eyes.

“Woah, you guys were really into that.”

Luke instinctively wiped at his lips with the back of his hand as Nicola smoothed out the front of her dress.

“We’ve been yelling cut for over a minute while you did the kiss – we even timed it!” He laughed.

“Don’t say we don’t give you one hundred and ten percent.” Nicola joked. Despite her humour, Luke sensed that she seemed unsettled.

“That’s for sure!” Andrew agreed. “Alright, let’s get hair and make-up in here and then we can get the next angle.”

Andrew and Liam moved away from the carriage. Luke could hear the rest of the crew outside the carriage also dispersing as the normal noises of set life resumed.

He watched Nicola as she touched gently at her own hair, assessing it for damage.

“You look beautiful.” He found himself saying out loud.

She stared him with a look he did not recognise. She did not reply.

Quick little authors note: I watched the many interviews Nicola and Luke gave about the carriage scene, about how intense it was, and about how in one instance, they were so caught up filming that they did not hear ‘cut’ being called by the director. It inspired me to write a short story where Nicola and Luke really like each other, but don't know how the other feels, and have to hide it on set. In my mind, that was the only logical reason that this scene was so intense for them. It couldn’t possibly be that they are just such great actors ;) Anyway, that short chapter became the fanfiction I'm STILL writing about these two! So I hope you enjoyed what was actually the very first chapter of this story that I ever wrote -I built the rest of the story around it!

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alewritesfics · 3 months ago

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Bridging Realities

ℑℑ. 𝔅𝔯𝔦𝔡𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔤....𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔰

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: unedited, slow burn, eventual smut/ spicy scenes, angst but happy ending, playful banter

⏮️ ⏸️ ⏭️

The Featherington household was a whirlwind of activity The hum of anticipation filled the air, mingling with the clinking of jewelry boxes being opened and the soft rustle of fabric.

You stood before the gilded mirror in the dressing room with all of the featherington women. The butter-yellow fabric shimmered faintly in the candlelight, a stark reminder of the gaudy tastes of your supposed family. You resisted the urge to tug at the neckline, which felt slightly too tight, and instead smoothed the fabric over your waist, trying to appear at ease.

Penelope, seated nearby, was unusually quiet as she read a book. Her dress, a softer shade of yellow, suited her far better than your overly bright attire. She caught your gaze in the mirror and offered a small, nervous smile.

“Would you like me to prepare some potatoes for the ladies downstairs, ma’am?” Varley asks

“Potatoes?” Prudence peeks out from behind the changing screen “Again?”

Philippa pushes you out of the mirror to look at herself instead “Why are we always eating potatoes?” She mutters

“Because these days, I am the housekeeper, lady’s maid, scullery maid, and cook” Varley responds grabbing a spare dress

You sighed, looking at your hideous bright colored dress before snatching the light green- almost blue- dress from her hands “give me that” You huffed, turning to look at Por- your mama. “I am not wearing this hideous dress, I’ll look as if I’m there to bring light into the room as a candle instead of actually participating” is all you say before you push Prudence out of the way to change into a new dress

You ignore all of the talk about the lord featherington, blah, blah, blah- instead, your mind wanders to what you know will happen in this ball. The start of Kate and Anthony’s rivalry.

Although all of the scandal is what made their love strong, you find it all unnecessary for them to relieve it again. In fact, perhaps you should help them get their love story without all of the scandals and hurting Edwina.

You frown as you remember that there was the obstacle called Anthony’s insecurities about love. It will certainly be difficult to get him to ignore his fears and give in to love when that was the whole reason he didn’t get with Kate sooner.

“Y/n!” Portia calls out “Are you done? Or do we need to wait another hour for you? Hurry, child!”

You sighed, stepping out. On to another dreary event, although you cannot deny you are giddy to see the viscount again

The carriage ride to the ball was a mixture of anticipation and tedium. Prudence and Philippa chattered away about the eligible gentlemen expected to attend, while Portia chimed in with pointed reminders about the importance of securing a good match. You stared out the window, the sights of Regency London rolling by, your thoughts firmly fixed on the Bridgertons.

You knew this ball was the catalyst for Kate and Anthony’s love story—a story that would have them at each other’s throats before realizing their undeniable connection. But could you really stand by and let Edwina get caught in the crossfire? She didn’t deserve to have her heart broken, even if it was essential to the plot as you’d watched it.

“We’re here!” Philippa announced as the carriage came to a halt in front of the grand ballroom. The sound of music and laughter spilled out onto the street, mingling with the clatter of carriages and the hum of conversations.

Stepping out of the carriage, you adjusted your skirts, the soft green fabric flowing elegantly. The night air was crisp, and lanterns illuminated the path to the grand entrance.

Inside, the room was a kaleidoscope of color and sound. Gowns in every shade imaginable twirled across the floor as couples danced to the lively strains of the orchestra. Chandeliers sparkled overhead, casting a warm, golden light over the bustling crowd.

You stayed close to Penelope, avoiding Portia’s sharp gaze as she guided Philippa and Prudence toward their “targets.”

And then, as if drawn by some invisible force, your eyes found him. Anthony Bridgerton, stood near the edge of the dance floor, his dark hair perfectly styled, and his sharp features illuminated by the flickering candlelight. His posture was commanding, his expression one of calculated indifference as he surveyed the room. And he was surrounded by a ton of ladies. You chuckled as you remember it was caused by Lady Bridgerton announcing he was marrying this season.

Your breath caught in your throat. Despite all your preparation for this moment, seeing him again was like a shock to your system. You froze, suddenly hyperaware of everything—the way your heart raced, the faint heat rising to your cheeks, and the almost surreal feeling of standing in the presence of someone you’d only ever seen on a screen.

“Y/n?” Penelope’s voice broke through your thoughts. “Are you all right?”

You blinked, tearing your gaze away from Anthony. “I’m fine,” you managed, though your voice betrayed your nerves.

“Good,” she said with a sly smile. “Because it looks like he’s noticed you.”

Your eyes darted back to Anthony, and sure enough, his piercing gaze was locked onto yours.

Holy fuck

You took in a deep breath before approaching him, pushing in between the multitude of ladies. He didn’t say it, but you know he needed saving “Lord Bridgerton,” you say with a smile “ I believe the dance you promised me is next”

Anthony's brow lifted in surprise, though he recovered quickly, offering a polite smile. “Miss Featherington,” he said, his tone smooth yet laced with curiosity. “I must admit, I don’t recall promising a dance. But far be it from me to deny a lady.” Your smile fell slightly

Seriously, doesn’t he get that you’re trying to save him?

Your cheeks burn slightly out of embarrassment but you compose yourself, a smile on your face.

The ladies surrounding him cast you scathing looks, muttering behind their fans as they reluctantly stepped back. You ignored them, meeting Anthony’s gaze with unwavering confidence.

“I distinctly remember, my lord,” you replied, extending your gloved hand. “Perhaps the memory escaped you, given how sought-after you are this evening.”

Anthony let out a low chuckle, his dark eyes sparkling with amusement. “A clever gambit, Miss Featherington. Very well, shall we?”

He took your hand, his touch warm and firm, and led you to the dance floor. The orchestra struck up a lively waltz as he positioned himself opposite you, his hand resting lightly at your waist while the other held yours.

“Bold of you,” he murmured as you began to move in time with the music. “Claiming a dance so publicly. I dare say you’ve left half the room scandalized.”

You tilted your head, offering a coy smile. “I thought it might save you from being devoured alive. Judging by the crowd, you’ve become quite the prize.”

His lips twitched as though suppressing a grin. “And here I thought I was adept at managing such situations.”

“Clearly, even a viscount needs rescuing on occasion,” you teased.

Anthony’s gaze softened, a flicker of intrigue crossing his face. “And what, pray tell, made you decide to be my savior tonight?”

You hesitated for a fraction of a second, masking the true depth of your intentions. “Let’s call it an act of charity. Though I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the opportunity to dance with the season’s most eligible bachelor, certainly helps me get por- mama, off my back..”

“Charity, you say?” he echoed, his tone half-amused, half-challenging. “And here I thought you were merely bold and wanted to delight in my very sought after company.”

The corners of your lips lifted in a knowing smile. “Why can’t it be both?”

As you twirled across the floor, the room seemed to fade into the background. His steady gaze never wavered from yours, and for a fleeting moment, you felt a crack in the armor he so carefully wore.

“Miss Featherington,” he said quietly, his voice almost too soft to hear over the music, “you are full of surprises.”

“You’ll find I have many more,” you replied, your tone light, though your heart raced.

For the first time, you wondered if you weren’t just saving Anthony from the eager ladies of the ton—but perhaps saving him based on hidden intentions, ones you won’t reveal just yet.

“Say,” you start to speak as he twirls you around “Have you found the woman you have been looking for yet? With a pleasing face, acceptable wit and genteel manners to match a viscountess?” you throw in his future words you know he will say to his acquaintances in a few minutes

Anthony’s brows lifted slightly as he caught your words, his grip on your waist firm yet graceful as he guided you through the dance. A flicker of amusement played at the edges of his mouth. “You seem remarkably well-versed in my supposed preferences, Miss Featherington,” he said. “One might think you’ve spent some considerable time pondering them.”

You laughed softly, tilting your head in mock innocence. “Hardly, my lord. It’s merely what the ton whispers about your requirements. Though, I must say, the criteria sound rather… clinical. Do you plan to select a wife or hire a governess?”

His lips quirked upward at the jab. “I assure you, my intentions are far from clinical. But it is prudent for a man in my position to approach the matter with care. I am, after all, securing the future of my family.”

“How noble of you,” you said, though your tone was laced with playful skepticism. “And here I thought a love match was all the rage these days. Perhaps I’ve misjudged the viscount’s romantic sensibilities.”

Anthony’s eyes narrowed slightly, though not in displeasure. There was a glint of challenge in his gaze. “And what would you suggest, Miss Featherington? That I throw caution to the wind and risk everything for a fleeting emotion?”

“Not fleeting, my lord,” you countered, your voice dropping to a softer, more serious tone. “Love can be enduring. It can be powerful. The kind of love that consumes you entirely—it’s worth the risk.”

For a moment, he seemed caught off guard, his steps faltering ever so slightly before he recovered. His gaze lingered on you, searching, as though trying to discern if your words were meant as a jest or something deeper.

“And what of you, Miss Featherington?” he asked, his tone quieter now, almost curious. “Do you believe in such consuming love?”

You smiled, a hint of mischief returning to your expression. “Oh, I wouldn’t dare admit such a thing in public, my lord. It might give the impression that I’m romantic, and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

Anthony chuckled, the sound low and rich. “You are an enigma, Miss Featherington. Most ladies are content to charm me with compliments, yet you seem intent on challenging me at every turn.”

“Well, are truly all the ladies of London charmed by a pleasing smile and nothing more to shower you with compliments all the time?” you said, meeting his gaze with a boldness you hadn’t quite expected of yourself, unconsciously speaking out Kate’s sentence “perhaps I prefer to stand out in a crowd. After all, my lord, isn’t that what catches your attention?”

His grip on your hand tightened slightly, his expression softening. “So you find my smile pleasing?” He smirked teasingly

“I won’t deny nor confirm it” You glance at him mischievously

“…You have my attention, Miss Featherington,” he admitted, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “Though I suspect you knew that already.”

You couldn’t suppress a smile, your heart racing as the dance carried on. “Perhaps,” you said lightly. “Or perhaps I’m simply enjoying the rare occasion of rendering you speechless, Lord Bridgerton.”

Anthony chuckled again, the sound almost indulgent. “A dangerous game you’re playing, Miss Featherington.”

“Life’s more interesting that way, wouldn’t you agree?”

As the final notes of the waltz filled the air, Anthony’s gaze lingered on yours a moment longer than necessary. You had achieved what you’d set out to do—leave the viscount intrigued and just a little off balance. Now, you only hoped it would be enough to further your hidden intentions.

⏮️ ⏸️ ⏭️

Taglist:

@heyyitsreign

@imafangirlofeverything

@stopeatread

@smartiepants217

#anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton x you #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #hyacinth bridgerton #violet bridgerton #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #daphne basset #kate sharma #edwina sharma

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