#portia featherington x you

[midnightscramble]

Hiya, could you do a Portia Featherington x female baker reader. Of course you have all creative freedom. Thank you, love. ;P

Sugar, Sugar Part 1 (Portia Featherington x fem!Reader)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

The Masterlist

Author’s Note: Thanks for the request! Love this idea and am so joyed to write for it. If it’s not to your liking feel free to make another request (don’t be shy!). Happy readings to you.

Summary: The stress of running a doomed household is getting to Portia. In an effort to get her daughter and Mister Finch to produce an heir, she employees local baker Y/n to fill the house with goodies.

Warnings: Portia has anxiety, slight derogatory references to religion, memories of a neglectful marriage, period typical misinformation about pregnancy and fertility, No Beta read

“Mama, I swear, Albion and I have been trying. It is simply in God’s hands. A baby shall appear within my belly when he deems it so.” Philippa shrugged and looked towards the vaulted ceiling as if it was the heavens. Portia pinched the bridge of her nose at her daughter’s idiocy. She walked towards the window and looked out upon the street, shaking her head while cursing her daughter’s religious education. Of all the books Penelope had convinced the late Lord Featherington to supply her with, it had to be the Bible that Philippa happened upon. The very same girl who could not remember her Hail Marys.

Spinning on her heel, exasperated, Portia looked towards her daughter, “It is absolutely in your hands. God gave mankind free will. Free will which you will use to become pregnant. Are you sure that Mister Finch is doing his part, is he doing all a man can to enhance his virility?”

"There is only so much Alby can do, Mama. He has many allergies, it is near impossible for him to eat the foods that are meant to increase his bravado." Philippa yawned resignedly.

"Well, have you noticed any particular type of food that effects his, uhh," Portia raised her eyebrows and whispered conspiratorially, "appetite for you?" Philippa gasped despite her mother's careful phrasing, causing Portia to roll her eyes.

Offended, Philippa tsked, "Mama, that is very improper of you to ask. But if you must know, he rather enjoys sweets before the act."

Of course, Portia thought, when does the man not want sweets. "Then I shall have the staff fill your room with treats and you are not to leave until you are sure you are with child."

"You cannot trap us in our room!"

"I very well can! All of our futures are dependent on your and Mister Finch's coupling. I cannot count on Prudence to put her pride aside and measure up to the task. Penelope has not a suitor insight while she chases Mister Bridgerton's coattail. Please Philippa, if you do not do this we will lose everything." Her ears ran hot as she tried to reason with her. Was it possible that she was the only one who understood the enormity of the situation?

Slouching, Philippa huffed "Fine, although my only request is that the sweets not be from the kitchens. I'd rather it be from Y/l/n Pastries and Delights. The shop has gained quite the following with-"

"Yes, yes. I will take care of it, now off you go! I expect you to be glued to his side by the time I return with the order."

...

The carriage ride into town was bumpy and unpleasant. Perhaps Portia was overly sensitive due to her soured mood. She despised having to haggle, especially with someone as well connected as the Ton's premier baker. Since the death of Lord Featherington, Portia had been careful to reduce the size of the staff and have the kitchens purchase day old produce from the markets. While she preferred to be frugal in such times, this expense would prove to be important. Never did she think her family's future would rely on a man's appetite.

Coming to a halt, she peered out the carriage window. Her destination was at the edge of the Ton, surprising her considering the supposed popularity of the bakery. Gingerly stepping out of the carriage, she tried to settle herself. She knew exactly how to get what she wanted. Men, older men in particular, were simple creatures. With a delicate balance of sexual innuendo and pseudo helplessness, she was sure to emerge victorious.

The shop bell jingled, causing Y/n to look up from her place behind the counter. "Welcome in! what can I do for you, Lady Featherington?" She smiled brightly at the auburn haired woman. The aroma of the shop washed over Portia gently, reminding her briefly of the display of sweets she had at her own wedding.

Portia smiled tightly and approached the counter. To be known about the Ton was both a blessing and a curse. There was pride in being instantly recognized by strangers, yet it made discrete deals such as the one she was trying to procure all the more difficult.

"Hello, Dear. I was wondering if I may speak to the head chef?"

"I am the head chef." Portia released a guffaw, "Pardon me, I'm afraid you misunderstand, I am looking for the shop owner."

Y/n smiled kindly, Portia was not the first to make this mistake, "That would be me, Lady Featherington."

Portia's smile dropped momentarily. A woman shop owner was hard to come by. Sure, there were lady bakers in the Ton, but none owned the shops they worked in. "How modern," she complemented, "I was hoping it would not be too late in the day to place an order for tonight?" She was in fact hoping that it was too late, and thus the remaining goods would have a reduced price given how long they had been siting.

"As a matter of fact, I make night batches to supply to the local families. It seems everyone is partial to dessert before bed," Y/n jested slightly. Although her heart rate picked up a notch, Portia released a laugh to show good nature. Reevaluating the situation, she looked around the shop, "Well I'm not sure what I should order..."

Reading the hesitancy in her eyes, Y/n offered "Why don't I give you an assortment. That way you can come back tomorrow with a list of what was enjoyed, hmm?" She was used to having to sell herself to the people of the Ton, none were quick to trust a female shop owner.

Portia's smile relaxed at the prospect, "That would be lovely, thank you." Y/n started packing up one of each dessert. Absentmindedly, she made conversation, "My condolences on the late Lord Featherington. When my own husband died, it nearly sent me to ruin."

Eyes widening, Portia scrambled for an appropriate response to such an abrupt topic change, "Thank you..." She drifted off, not sure what to say. She studied the young woman, wondering what she was getting at. Their eyes met briefly and Portia looked away, feeling caught.

Filling the silence she continued, "My condolences as well, was it your husband who started this fine establishment?" Internally she grimaced. She knew it was none of her business, yet the oddity of the situation drove her to seek some sort of explanation.

"We started it together. I had to petition to the province to assume control of the estate. They wanted to give this shop to my eleven year old cousin, can you believe that?"

She sucked in a breath, "Yes, yes I can." Portia was becoming all too familiar with inheritance laws.

Y/n placed three full boxes on the counter and grabbed a paper. "Now, I am going to write which box contains which sweet," she beckoned Portia closer to watch as she wrote.

"This box has", rather than listen, Portia found herself distracted in watching Y/n's hands move as she emphatically described how each pastry could be identified. Her fingers twisted as she mimicked the pipped icing atop a miniature cake. The subtle flexing of her hand when she grasped the quill left Portia wondering what strength those hands possessed. Y/n seemed to have a good work ethic, leaving no doubt in her mind that she would be behind the scenes with her staff, kneading dough, working till sweat dripped down the column of her throat- Portia's mouth suddenly felt very dry and she cleared her throat, causing Y/n to pause. Embarrassed she rushed, "Thank you, I shall return tomorrow. You can hand these off to my footmen." She spun around on her heal and in three long strides she exited.

Y/n called after her, "Have a nice night, Lady Featherington!"

...

Feeling rather worn, Portia told Philippa's maid to have the sweets brought directly to her daughter's room. She retired early, settling in the king sized bed with the latest issue of Lady Whistledown. Seldom did she wish to know the true identity of the infamous writer. However, it was nights like these that she wanted to meet the woman face to face. She was curious, how had she made it so far? Was there a man behind the publishing? If it was truly a Lady behind the gossip expose, she may be the most independent woman of their time.

Oh, to be so free, she thought.

Turning, she blew out her bed side candle and tossed the pamphlet to the floor. Even with her husband dead, she was still chained to his decisions, his name, the failures he had made and hid from her. It would have scorned her if not for the fact that she had no emotion left to give the man.

She had never truly been dependent on him, at least not in the traditional sense. There were women like Violet Bridgerton, who mourned her husband years after his passing, pious and properly. For Violet had loved him, and in turn was dependent on his love and company. Portia, on the other hand, had tried to love her husband. She gave Lord Featherington her youthful devotion, drawn to his coy smiles and cold disregard for her. There was a certain safety in giving her heart and hand in marriage to a man who was distant. Who showed his affection in gifts rather than touch or word.

Their relationship, transactional at best, had entirely ceased upon the birth of Penelope. Lord Featherington had given up on the prospect of a male heir and moved to the opposing wing. From then on, the bulk of their interactions consisted of sitting across from each other at breakfast and linking arms at social events. Both were too content to break the newly developed pattern. It was almost pleasant, to look upon each other and feel no obligation to pretend.

Tonight was like any other night in her marriage, spent alone. She was normally untroubled by the empty side of her bed, cold and firm from being unoccupied. Closing her eyes she resigned herself to ignore the sudden deficiency. She told herself that it was of most importance to fall asleep quickly. Tomorrow she would have to be sharp to negotiate with Y/n.

Reminded briefly of the baker, thoughts of little cakes with pipped icing, quills, and the smell of bread paraded through her mind as she succumbed to sleep.

[thebluemallet]

Portia may not have always been the best mother, but she was the only one who noticed and brought attention to the fact that Penelope wrote terrible things about herself in Whistledown once she learned the truth.

Someone should write a fic where that is brought to Colin and Eloise's attention by someone else and they both have that "oh shit!" moment.

[girllookingoutwindow]

Portia and Penelope: cute moments.

[butyouaremymess]

“I simply cannot believe that a woman with such bravery loves me. How lucky I am to stand by your side and soak up even a little bit of your light. If my only purpose in life is to love a woman as great as you, then I will be a very fulfilled man indeed.”

[seeleybooth]

Season 1: Did we make it? vs Season 3: Yes we did

"I love you with everything I am, everything I've been, and everything I hope to be. I love you with my past, and I love you for my future. I love you for the children we will have and for the years we'll have together. I love you for every one of my smiles and even more, of every one of your smiles." Romancing Mister Bridgerton

bonus: babies having babies

[frost-queen]

Tempting fate // part 5 (Reader!Featherington x Colin Bridgerton)

Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown, @wildieflower , @meyocoko , @bubblybrianna97 , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @swampthing07 , @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury ,  @imagines-by-her ,  @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @iixchloee, @cherrysxuya , @dutifullyannoyingfox , @wolf-phoenix-lover, @mellowdreamlandpost-blog ,

@markive-m, @esposamultifandom, @mswwvaleska, @itsalyssadawnuniverse, @magical-spit, @winter-solstice24 , @bloommart, @mushy-mushroom04 , @iamaslytherin0 , @writingfortheunloved , @superhighschoollevelfashion-blog , @kamiliora , @itsfromaboyband-blog, @redhoodsoutlaw , @anonymouscherries , @gayandfairycore , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @niktwazny303 , @markive-m , @lovesanimals0000 , @randomgurl2326 , @dutifullyannoyingfox , @h-l-vlovesvintage , @bee-unknown , @dd122004dd ,

Summary: With a little help of Anthony, Colin tries to have a moment to speak with you. Rather taking the flee, you leave him no chance of conversating with you. Will Colin get his chance to speak with you or will you forever ignore him. [ part 1 & part 2 & part 3 & part 4 & part 6 & part 7 & part 8 & part 9 & part 10]

A fast feather scraped over parchment, filling the silence in the waiting room. Penelope hunched over her parchment as the feather wrote down her exact thoughts. You entered the waiting room, seeing her write so lost in her thoughts. An annoyance grew over you. – “Writing about me again for your latest sheet?” – you said out loud, wandering around the armchair closer to her. Penelope glanced to the side, pausing her writing briefly before continuing.

“It is a letter.” – she responded after some silence. – “One to your adoring readers?” – you teased moving closer to the window. Moving the curtain a bit aside to peek outside. – “Perhaps you can ask your adoring readers for their opinion on me? I’m sure they would be delighted to follow in your delusions.” – you spoke with a mocking undertone. It made Penelope lay her feather down.

“I thought you didn’t wished to speak to me ever again.” – she replied bitsy, making you briefly look over your shoulder to her. – “I am.” – you spoke. – “You are the just the only breathing thing in this house at the moment.” – you left the window moving more to the centre of the room. Penelope swallowed a bit, glancing your way.

You went around the armchair, making your way for the door with your head up high. – “You shouldn’t give me ideas.” – you heard your sister call out to you as you were heading out. Not liking the taunting in her tone, you went back inside, picked up the nearest pillow and threw it at her. The pillow hit her and the ink bottle. It fell over, spilling her parchment and a bit of her dress.

Penelope gasped loud, jumping up at the sudden wetness on her dress. – “Do not provoke me sister!” – you said in a cold tone, throwing a glare at her. Penelope looked in shock at you for having spilled ink on her dress. You turned on your heel, heading out once more. In the hallway, you walked through the house, making your way to the garden. Setting foot in the sun, you took in a deep breath.

Glancing over your shoulder, you lowered your gaze. Feeling like there was no one to trust. Not your own sister nor Colin with his false promises. You headed for the large tree where the swing was strapped to. You carefully sat down. Balancing on your feet to move the swing a bit. Lost in thoughts, you stared down, fidgeting with your fingers on your lap.

Breathing out loud, you looked away, finding yourself pathetic. A shadow of yourself sitting on the swing. For a moment, just for a moment, you thought you’d be his. That you found someone to love you unconditionally. Colin had always been a good friend of your sisters. Colin and you weren’t that close to begin with. It wasn’t like you could get to know him that well since your sister had a way of claiming him.

Ever since you were little. So it was shocking to know that Colin was interested in you, or at least even for a little while. Perhaps that kiss meant nothing to him, but it meant everything to you. The first time a boy showed such affection towards you. Colin must have kissed plenty of girls, that it had little meaning by now. To you it felt like he had stolen something from you.

Stolen something he couldn’t return. Touching your lips, you recalled the feeling it left on your lips. Strangely enlightening. Bringing your fingers down, you tore your gaze away, feeling foolish. Wanting to forget about stupid Penelope and stupid Colin, you grabbed the cord firmly.

Setting your feet off as the swing got in motion. Kicking your feet back and forth to create the friction. Up, up, up you went. Higher and higher till you could reach the clouds. The wind blowing through your hair untangling it as it had a mind of its own now. Blissfully you smiled, forgetting about your worries for a moment.

Leaning back, you watched the skies make you feel dizzy. The light making you squint your eyes as you let the swinging die out. Pulling yourself back up when you were closer to the ground. A summer’s sadness on your face as the swing slowed down. Staring lost in front of you. With a huff you got up, having enough of it. You weren’t going to let anyone humiliate you ever again.

Not your sister not Colin, not again. The hell with Penelope. The hell with Colin Bridgerton for he would never loose his boyish act. Seeing his true colours clearly in a shade of green. You looked curiously up hearing your name from afar. Prudence stood in the entrance leading outside. – “Coming!” – you called out, lingering for but a moment before going inside.

Phillipa was fanning vigorously in the carriage. Mama slapped her hand on her hand to stop her hurricane of fanning. Phillipa gave mama a sheepish smile, followed by a nervous swallow. Mama moved a bit closer to the centre of the carriage, placing her hand on Phillipa and yours knees that were in reach. – “Now girls it is not too late for us to shine.” – she said to pep herself up. – “We’ll attract nice men and turn this tide.” – she patted your knee with a trusting smile.

Prudence who sat beside you across from Phillipa took your hand, giving it a soft squeeze. – “We’ll find you a good husband.” – she whispered to you. Penelope let an amusing chuckle slip. Making everyone stare at her. – “Something funnily Penelope?” – mama questioned with a quizzable brow. Penelope cleared her throat.

“No mama.” – she answered. The rest of the carriage ride was in silence. Till you rode up to the event. A springs festival. Tents stationed around. Flowers used as decoration to celebrate its bright colours. The footman opened the door helping mama out first. Then Phillipa and Penelope. Prudence and you as last.

By one of the tents you immediately recognized the Bridgerton brothers. It made you turn around, hoping they hadn’t noticed you. There was one thing you wanted to avoid at any cost. Colin Bridgerton. – “Come girls.” – Mama said pulling Phillipa with her. Penelope and Prudence followed as you rather wanted to disappear. So you headed the other direction than them.

Walking around groups of gathering people to find a way around. Having squeezed yourself between two groups who stood with their backs at each other, you let out a soft gasp. Coming face to face with Eloise Bridgerton. – “Y/n!” – she let out with wide eyes. – “Eloise.” – you replied nervously. – “Penelope is that way.” – you informed her, going round her to not engage any further.

You quickened up your step, hastening away from her. Freezing you saw Kate with two glasses in her hand. Probably one for her husband as well. Moving your hand against your cheek, you bowed your head for her not to notice you. Avoiding these Bridgerton’s seemed harder as they seemed to turn up at every corner.

Colin stood by the tent with Anthony and Benedict. Anthony nudged him in the side. Motioning with his head in the direction of the Featheringtons. Colin got on the tip of his toes, staring at them. Anthony kept gesturing with his head for him to make a move. Colin set his feet back down, shaking his head with pulled up shoulders. Benedict stared at the display. – “Why do I get the feeling I am missing something.” – he let out, feeling excluded for whatever it was they shared.

Anthony kept bugging him to do something. – “She is not there.” – Colin shout-whispered to him. – “Then find her!” – Anthony spoke back giving him a push. – “I am definitely missing something.” – Benedict answered looking over at Francesca who sat down with a book. Francesca pulled her shoulders up, forming a thin line of her lips.

Colin exhaled deep getting in motion. – “What am I missing?” – Benedict asked Anthony. Anthony rolled with his eyes taking his leave. – “An…Anthony!” – Benedict called out going after him for answers. Francesca shut her book, getting up. Kate arrived at the tent, looking confused around for everyone had taken their leave.

You were still walking around, staying close to large groups so you wouldn’t stand out. You even had lost track of where your family was. You started to look around for escape’s if you indeed did encounter Colin Bridgerton to your dislikes. You moved through a group, eyes widening when you came nose to nose with Francesca Bridgerton. – “Colin is looking for you.” – she said with a shy smile. – “Must I encounter every Bridgerton?” – you mumbled under your breath, taking your leave.

Francesca blinked confused feeling too shy to call out your name and draw any attention towards her. Your unfortunate encounter with her led to spotting Colin through the crowd. He turned at the exact same time, you saw him, making him notice you. – “Y/n.” – he called out making his way over. You turned round, pushing some people aside to make your escape. Colin furrowed his brows, going in pursuit. You started to run faster, no way wanting to be near with him. Some heads turned your way at you taking a run for it.

Leaving the festive for the woods. Panting loud, you ran till you jumped aside, hiding behind a tree trunk. You heard twigs snap underneath shoes as it made you cover up your mouth. – “Y/n? Y/n? Where are you?” – it was Colin calling out to you. You tried to remain still not wanting him to find you. – “Y/n I… I want to talk about our last encounter.” – he let out looking around for you.

He waited for an answer but you never gave one. There was another pair of footsteps, this time coming from the front. Your eyes widened when a brown bearded man came to a stop. Staring right back at you. Slowly questioning what you were doing. Seeing an opportunity you whispered to him, to help you. You walked up to the man, taking him by his arm as you walked out in the open. 

Colin coming to a stop as he saw you appear around a man’s arm. – “Y/n?” – Colin said in disbelieve. – “Can’t speak now Colin, can’t you see a woman is in company.” – you replied walking past him with the lord. Putting on a smile to show Colin you didn’t need him and his false promises. The lord seemed to play along, laying his hand on yours around his arm. Starting to talk about nature as you listened half.

Colin turned to your departure with shock in his eyes. – “Y/n.” – he squeaked out too stunned that you were walking with another lord. Nearing the festive once more, you thanked him for helping you out. – “It was my pleasure Miss Featherington.” – he said with a bow, leaning down to kiss your hand. – “If you ever need saving again, simply call upon me.” – he continued after having kissed your hand.

You curtsied to him, taking your leave to return to your family content. – “Where have you been?” – mama questioned blinking surprised. You hummed soft, ignoring her question to come and join Prudence. Colin returned to his brothers with a sweat. Anthony stopped him by his shoulder.

“You are sweating dear brother.” – he pointed out. – “I…I… she was with another gentleman.” – he called out. – “Who was?” – Benedict asked curiously coming in sight, holding a pastry. Anthony inhaled deep, bringing Colin closer to him. – “It is not too late brother.” – patting his brother on the chest.

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

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!  

[kwikquik]

[foreverthebolter]

Colin when someone says something rude to Pen

[winters-rose-daughterofcain]

Fine I'll talk about Bridgerton

One thing this season made really clear to me is that Lady Whistledown is in a way a coping mechanism. It was stared by a lonely, neglected, unhappy seventeen year old girl who felt like she could scream until she collapsed to the ground and it would be into a void because no one would fucking listen to her.

Her mother constantly berates and criticises her, her father (while alive) barely speaks to her and is seen off to the side drinking when he's meant to be chaperoning her, her sisters are openly cruel to her and are still favoured by their mother. She has few friends, and the two relationships she holds closest both have significant blocks to them, with Colin it's her unrequited feelings and..... tbh her and Eloise's friendship is a whole different post and while they clearly mean the world to each other, there where fundamentally issues long before Lady Whistledown was so much as a drop of ink. I think they are both at fault for them and I love both of them, but Eloise's biggest issue comes from just not listening to her and in general as a person having a bad case of tunnel vision and hyper focusing on certain things while completely missing others.

Pen is outcast from society from the moment she steps foot in it, ridiculed and despised by those around her and bullied by girls her age for literally no fucking reason. She is seen as unattractive and undesirable, she believes the fundamentally human want to be loved a silly childish delusion because she is told from every angle that she is not worth it. She's not even worth listening to.

I think her resentment and hurt had been building for a while, she's never under any assumption that she will be treated or seen better. How could she be? When she is constantly reminded how much she fails to be what is wanted or respected or valued, primarily by her own damn family. Still, she's a kind girl. She's sweet and attentive and a good listener, she's patient and reliable and, before Whistledown started, probably extremely loyal, if how much guilt she felt whenever she genuinely betrayed someone says anything. She's someone who has never felt or had any power, who has so much hurt and resent and bitterness from years of this shit building and building.

But she's also smart and witty and funny and extremely intelligent. She has a talent for writing and words and clearly has the potential to be successful. I think being pushed into society a year earlier than she wanted (again, because her mother wouldn't listen) pushed her over the edge. She wrote her observations, the things she learnt from being pushed to the side for so long down, and published them. I don't think she ever intended for it to be as big as it was, and I think the bigger it got and still gets the more in over her head she is. Because for once people listened, for once people cared, for once what she thought and said and worked for mattered.

It is a young girl gaining her first glimpse at power and being deeply unprepared for the consequences. When things go wrong and she doesn't know what to do and no one will listen to her as Penelope, this is the only way she can make them. No matter how disastrous the affects, using Whiseldown gets results, it just also hurts people, pushing her further and further down this cycle where Whistledown is one of the only thing that makes her feel better and allows her to process the things in her life, while hurting the people around her and making her more dependent on it.

She truly meant to give up Whistledown after the disaster with Eloise, but on that night she had her connection or trust from the two people who she cared about and who cared about her the most broken. With the fight with Eloise and then overhearing Colin she lost both of them in the span of an hour, what else dose she have aside from her writing?

And again at the ball in episode one. Even after a complete upheaval of her entire look she still fails to talk to those guys, she still isn't enough, it's proof it is not her youth or her mother influence something fundamental in her can't do this. Then Cressida rips her dress with Eloise standing right there, then Colin comes and (even tho she is incorrect) confirms to her that he too, is embarrassed by her. So what dose she do? When she's miserable and powerless? She writes. She takes it all out in Whistledown and says the (admittedly true which is why it hurt so much tbh) cruel things about Colin, which she regrets literally a day later after actually talking to him. Adding more guilt and keeping her stuck in this cycle.

It's a business definitely, and there are many parts of Whistledown she genuinely enjoys, but I don't think it's good for her. It hurts the people around her and it hurts herself, she's in over her head and definitely knows she should stop, but I don't think she knows how. She doesn't let herself rely on others enough to be okay without this one thing that has allowed her to cope and be heard and respected and valued. That's also why I think she couldn't have stopped before this season, now she's finally getting that, she's finally being listened to and respected and valued and being told she is worth something. Not by many people, and it is still too new to change the fundamental thought patters about it she has, but it's a start.

Now she just has to grapple with that fact that this thing that has given her a voice and found her comfort might just be the dealbreaker for the real people in her life who can actually offer her the love and care and respect she deserves and craves and has been denied for so so long. It sucks and it's a cycle she can't get out of now, she's made her own trap without knowing how she did it.

That's what happens when a 17 year olds coping mechanism continues and grows and expands for years, when people unknowing pay to see more of it, and when she doesn't really know what else to do. Whistledown is Pens choice and all her actions for better or worse, but it would not exist without the context of her life. It would not exist if Portia was a better mother, if she had better sisters or a better family. It would not exist of other girls her age were kinder to her, if they excluded her a little less. It would not exist if she were not seen as a lost cause for love before she had the chance to try. Lady Whistledown would not exist if someone just fucking listened to her.

[lordandladywhistledown]

I love how Colin is surprised and taken aback when Marina says Penelope cares for him...

He's like: "Penelope?!??!?!! No way that she cares for me.... it's not like I send her more letters than anyone and she actually replies to them unlike my own family and it's not like she always smiles when she sees me and it's not like she tried to warn me not to marry a woman I barely knew and that she's the only one who seems to be interested in what I have to say about things. But Penelope???? No way she even thinks about me when I'm not there 😝😊🤪"

I feel like he doesn't understand that Penelope likes him until the very end of S2 and even then, he doesn't completely understand how deep her feelings are and that's then why he also doesn't understand that he has feelings for her, too. He's just stuck there thinking that's what normal friendships are like... he's so sweet and so so innocent

[midnightscramble]

Oh dios mio. I've re-read your Portia x reader and I've got to say that it's absolutely amazing and I can just imagine Portia thinking 'How would her hands feel on her' the sensational touches she would receive. I really hope you have a great day, love. ☺️

Sugar, Sugar Part 3 (Portia Featherington x fem!Reader)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

The Masterlist

Author’s Note: Thanks for your continued support! If this is not what was envisioned feel free to request again (don’t be shy!). Happy readings to you.

Summary: The women start to feel more and more attached to each other. Penelope confronts her mother. In a moment of weakness, Portia breaks their agreement, consequences follow...

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, fingering (Portia receiving), oral (Portia receiving), bottom Portia, internalized homophobia, angry-ish sex, no Beta read

The next night, Portia arrived to the bakery earlier than the agreed upon time. She walked down the aisles, vaguely looking through the shelves as she focused on listening to her baker bustle around the kitchen, obviously preparing for their meeting. She heard a deep sigh of satisfaction emit from the kitchen. As if on its own accord, Portia's mind produced images of Y/n, cheeks flushed and head thrown back as sweat slid down the column of her throat. Blinking back to reality, Portia felt desire settle in her abdomen, sinking as gracefully as a stone falling through still water. She pinched herself, such thoughts were improper, especially since she knew that Y/n's sigh was most definitely attributed to a baking related achievement.

She could not shake the warmth that tinged her cheeks pink, nor how Y/n's soft sigh seemed to echo in her ears. For the rest of the evening she sat with hands beneath her thighs, worried she would be overcome with the want to touch her sweet baker. If Y/n noticed her sudden hesitancy, for once she was polite enough not to mention it.

For the next week, Portia dreamt only of the young baker. While not particularly proud of the development, the Lady selfishly felt eager to sleep after their evening meetings. She could no longer deny her feelings for the other woman. In fact, the harder she consciously fought against it, the more radical her subconscious became in reminding Portia of her sinful desires.

Having experienced so little romantic pleasure in her life, Portia was content to keep this secret to herself, reap the blessings her dreams bestowed upon her. As long as she did not act upon it, it would be a non issue, she simply had to control herself.

...

Well practiced in self control, she continued to see Y/n every evening. However, on the thirteenth night of their agreement, Portia felt her resolve begin to crumble.

Sitting across from each other, Y/n unveiled her latest temptation, a pastry shaped like a heart. They sat in silence, the air around them was alight with electricity, leaving Portia feeling frozen yet energetic. The baker's eyes were soft, and something in her posture was different than other nights. She seemed to have forgone her usual bravado and crassness, that manifested in slouched shoulders and easy movements. Now, Y/n was still in her own unease, face dashed with hopefulness and vulnerability.

Portia swallowed, if she accepted the treat, then these meetings would come to an end. However, the alternative of rejecting the treat made her mouth taste bitter. Her knee bounced under her thick skirt as she considered. The dessert was precious, she wanted to pick it up with her hands and run her fingers along the flaky edges to appreciate its perfection.

Her voice grew quite as she spoke, falling off into a whisper, "Although it is delicate, and undoubtably exquisite, it does not tempt me..." Per usual, the baker gave her a kind smile, yet, tonight's held an element of disappoint. Portia wanted to rectify that, so she reached out and took the baker's hand, "You are so skilled, I'm sure tomorrow you will catch me."

Y/n intertwined their fingers and smiled subtly, "I suppose I must be satisfied with the thoughts of tomorrow," neither moved to extract their hand.

...

Portia returned home, feeling an unfamiliar ache in her chest which urged her to go back to the bakery and beg for a taste of the baker's heart. While it soothed her to be able to touch Y/n, she felt a pang of guilt from causing the subtle distress the baker experienced over tonight's rejection. It had all felt so different, as though they were speaking another language, one which Portia seemed to mispronounce every time she attempted to speak.

Sitting at her vanity, she brushed through her hair, trying to find a calming rhythm. A knock sounded at her door and having been so deep in thought, she jumped at the intrusion. Penelope entered slowly, looking rather sheepish.

"Mother, I must ask you an uncomfortable question..."

Portia sighed, "On with it," she prompted.

"I heard a rumor," Penelope could not out right say she had been following her mother, "that you have been having midnight rendezvous with a baker in town." Portia felt her throat constrict and if she hadn't already been sitting she surely would have lost balance. Goosebumps raised on her arms and a shiver climbed up her spine.

"She's my friend, who happens to have a very busy day and is only available at night." The excuse was rushed and Portia's eyes shifted away in an effort to hide.

"So you do not deny it?"

Portia mentally cursed herself, denying it altogether would have been much easier but now it was too late, "No, I do not."

Penelope continued, seemingly talking aloud rather than asking an actual question, "Then why lie to us and say you are off to bed, when you are really leaving to see a friend..."

The Lady's blood ran cold, she looked at her daughter and watched in abject horror as Penelope pieced it together. "You fancy the baker," It was stated as fact, almost light heartedly as her daughter was all too pleased with her own deduction.

"Penelople-"

"There is no use in lying, Mother. Although, shocked as I am, I must remind you of something," Penelope raised an eyebrow before quoting the woman, "It is foolish to be unreasonable about what you can achieve."

Portia's eyes watered as Penelope threw her cruel words back at her, before she could come up with a retort, her daughter had fled. She was left to reflect upon the brutal advice. She knew in her heart that she wanted the baker, but it would be unreasonable to believe in the possibility of having her. When she retired for the night, she committed herself to enjoying tonight's dream, as it was the last one she would allow herself to have. She wasn't sure how she had so stupidly let herself become hopeful, after all, Lady's don't have dreams.

...

The next morning Portia accompanied her daughters and their husbands to the Hawkins Hot Air Ballon Event. Although in a depressed state, she choked through an apology to Penelope on the carriage ride over.

"I am sorry. I-" Portia scrunched her nose and sniffed in discomfort, "You are right to have been so angry with me..."

Penelope pressed her lips together in sympathy, "I do not want to fight with you, Mother."

"Nor, I with you. If it is Mister Bridgerton you truly want, then you mustn't waste your time with any other." With a closed lip smile, Penelope nodded and gazed out the window. While their relationship was far from healed, this was certainly an improvement.

Penelope bit her lip, "Do be careful, with your baker. I do not want to see you hurt."

Portia chuckled, "You need not worry, it will be over by tonight." Her daughter eyed her with concern but dropped the subject.

Once the carriage came to a halt, Portia plastered on a smile, ready to make the most of the day instead of dreading the evening to come. She watched as Penelope left and realized that Mister Bridgerton was already watching her daughter with an eagle's eye. She smiled, knowing Penelope would be successful.

She herself filtered in and out of stands, pausing at a stall with various jams and pastries.

"Would you care for a sample, my Lady?" She nodded and was handed a lithe, croissant with sweet apricot jam in the center. Without thinking, she took a bite. As her tongue hit the jam she felt bile rise in her throat. Pulling back she realized she had officially broken her deal with the baker. Her mouth went bitter and all hunger was lost. Out of politeness, she finished the pastry and inquired about where the stand's main store was located in the Ton. She darkly thought about how she would need a new baker eventually.

...

Evening fell, and Portia made her way from the Event directly to the bakery, with the full intention of ending her late night escapades with Y/n. When she arrived, the usual table was not set, in fact all the chairs had been put up for closing. She heard grunting coming from the kitchen and the sound of metal being tossed into a sink, loudly echoing into the store front. Portia flinched slightly.

She called out for the baker, "Y/n?" Silence stung through the air and Portia approached the kitchen warily.

With a red nose and watery eyes, Y/n glared at her, "What do you want?" She wiped at her cheeks, trying to make the evidence of her hurt disappear.

Tentatively, she took a step forward, "I came for our usual meeting-"

Y/n flexed her jaw before seething, "I know that you made an inquiry into hiring Mr. Thompson for your baked goods."

Portia went to deny it but was cut off, "Do not lie to me..." Y/n stalked forward, and by reflex Portia stepped back.

She connected with the wooden prep table and her heart beat loudly in her ears. The baker's hands rested on each side of her, gripping the edge of the table fiercely. With their faces near inches apart, Y/n accused, "Did you like what he had to offer..."

"No," Portia choked out, lip quivering with emotion.

"Do you think he could satisfy your hunger like I could?" Portia shook her head and flushed, unable to speak. She watched as the baker's eyes darkened and the pinch in her eyebrows relaxed.

"Allow me to tempt you tonight?" Y/n's eyes trailed from her eyes to her lips, coyly asking permission.

As if she were emerging from water and gasping for breath, Portia responded, "Yes-" The baker cut her off and surged forward to connect their lips. Y/n's tongue slid across her bottom lip and Portia instinctively opened her mouth, encouraging the woman to deepen the kiss.

Inhaling through her nose, she felt faint as her mouth was thoroughly devoured. Y/n's deft tongue caressed her own and Portia sighed into to kiss. Strong hands came to rest on her waist, slowly grabbing the fabric and scrunching it up. The Lady mewled at the possibility of the touch which she had only ever dreamed of. She slid her fingers into the baker's hair, reveling in the softness of the locks, and how right it felt to cradle her head. For the first time in her life, Portia experienced an unbridled pleasure from sharing a kiss.

She shivered in anticipation as Y/n parted her legs. The baker disconnected their mouths and moved her kisses dow Portia's neck. Her hand stopped as she palmed the Lady's inner thigh, and she nipped at Portia's ear, waiting for permission.

"Please," Portia whined needly, moving her face to try and chase the baker's lips. Y/n gave her a sweet peck, and rubbed their noses against each other. Not wanting to deny the woman further, she moved her hand to cup the woman's sex. Their foreheads connected and Portia let out a contented sigh as Y/n ground the palm of her hand against her. The baker watched as her eye's fluttered shut and her breathes became shorter. Moving her thumb to rub the Lady's clit, she traced along her lips tantalizingly slow, watching how her hips twitched forward. Having gathered enough wetness, she slowly sunk her fingers into Portia's opening. Her neck flexed as she let out a silent moan, and her knees became weak at the sensation.

Pinning her further onto the table for support, Y/n moved a hand to her lower back, encouraging Portia to thrust her hips to meet her fingers. With cheeks as red as her hair, Portia delighted in the guidance, and surrendered all control to the baker. Rhythmically, Portia began to meet her every thrust. However, once she had gotten comfortable in the pattern, it changed. Y/n curled her fingers, dragging them along Portia's walls in a come hither motion. Portia's hips stuttered and a cry left her mouth out of ecstasy. Y/n felt Portia start to tighten around her fingers, and she knew the woman was close.

Portia's abdomen tightened, and she was surprised with herself, not entirely familiar with the sensation. The baker gave her little time to think about it as she dropped to her knees. Portia was confused by the action until she felt a hard lick journey up her inner thigh. Although slightly miffed, she would not deny the woman any part of her. Portia's hands clutched at the edge of the table, knuckles turning white as Y/n sucked her clit between her lips. She gasped sharply and barred down on Y/n's fingers, falling over the edge. Administering kitten licks and slow pumps, Y/n helped Portia through her orgasm until she felt her walls stop spasming.

Y/n removed her hand slowly and rose to her feet, giving Portia a tender kiss which the woman met in earnest. Her hands rested on the baker's shoulders as she rested her head in the crook of Y/n's neck, wanting reprieve after such thrilling intimacy. Y/n chuckled and held the Lady, "Now, can I tempt you with an actual dessert?"

Portia laughed but didn't move from her position, "it would only be appropriate."

[anastasiareadsnwrites]

Another request on fany cherries? 🥺👉👈

Fancy Cherries Part III (Portia Featherington x Fem! Reader )

Part I, Part II, Part III

Authors' Note: I was actually going to make another chapter but wasn't too sure about how I would make this chapter but all worked out perfectly fine. My requests are open and some fandoms have a Masterlist and some do not. Thank you for requesting, love.

Summary: It's been a few days since you've seen Lady Featherington since that night of the ball. So, you ask Varley about what has happened. You find out that Portia has relocated herself in the country home for the time being. Maybe due to a certain someone's column.

Warning(s): Rumors, worried! reader, angry feelings, mention of domestic violence, manipulation, distressed! Portia, confessing feelings, more to be added

The MAIN Masterlist

Bridgerton Masterlist

You stopped in your tracks as you looked at the room before you. It had been the same. The sheets all tucked in, even though you change them everyday. But the folded corners where untouched. Everyday ever since the ball. Your Lady was drunk on whatever she drank and you just fulfilled your lusting thoughts. You didn't return her feelings and you were sure that Portia wasn't going to remember.

But as everyday passed with an empty room, nothing to clean, no one to wake up, no one to tease, and it started to make your chest hurt. Your nose twitched as it reached the familiar smell of a perfume. It had to be her. Right? You turned around to see an older woman standing there before you. No, it wasn't her.

"Mrs. Varley, if I may ask but where must Lady Featherington be?" You asked as you noticed the shocked look she gave you. "I have been cleaning her room for the past few days but only to be met with it still the same." You continued to question the older woman before she frowned and sighed.

"Well, you must certainly haven't heard of the news or gossip." Varley shook her head and walked down the hallway to the library. It was usually quiet in there. Only once in a while you would sneak into there and sit there and ponder about on the settee. You were even surprised to see a library in the Featherington house, since Portia didn't like it when her daughters would read such myths and fables.

"I see...What is it?"

"Nothing that you must hear from me." Varley answered quite quickly and it startled you. You looked at her with wide eyes until you heard the door open and close quietly. Holli entered the room and gave you a small smile. "You must tell her of what happened." Varley looked at Holli with owl-ish eyes and gave a tight lipped smile. Slightly you grew irritated with the back and forth you were getting.

Your brows furrowed, taking deep breath, your jaw muscles tensed as you pressed your lips into a thin line. You spoke, slightly raising your voice-" I suspect both of you know what has happened and I demand to know."- Both of the woman looked at each other then back at you.

"Well, there was a rumor spread about the Ton about the two of you."

"And what of this rumor?"

"Well, they said how you took liberties with Lady Featherington even before when Lord Featherington was here. Making her a cheater and you a doll or a...whore in some matters."

You slowly nodded your head and sucked your teeth wondering who spread the rumor about the two of you in the carriage. Or who seen the both of you.

"Okay, well first I never took liberties with Port- Lady Featherington Second when I started the very next day the late Lord Featherington had been killed." You fumbled with the apron that you had tied around your waist. Even in the moments you had with Portia you never made her want to do such things with you. She had the prerogative to say no and she did.

They both nodded their heads as they took in the information from you. Certainly with this information it would be no bother but in this society, it was really hard to even grasp the expectations of one day to another that will change the way the Ton communicate with one another.

"Well I wasn't expecting this type of rumor going around." You chewed your bottom lip.

"Who wouldn't?" Holli snorted, and Varley gave her a small smack on the arm. "Holli don't you have something to clean? Or rather...someone to met?" You quirked a brow and frowned as Holli's eyes widened as big as saucers.

"Uhm... You know I think I left the kettle on..." Holli swung her arm in the direction of the door and gave an awkward smile, hutching her back slightly and started walking backwards.

When the door closed with a slight creak, you looked at Varley as she looked back at you.

"Lady Celia"

"Lady Celia"

You both nodded your heads in agreement and looked back at the door.

"So, the country house correct?"

"Yes, just until all this stuff has stopped in spread." Mrs. Varley gave a tight lipped smile and rested her hand on your shoulder giving you a reassuring touch. "Yes, I understand."

"It's only for the best, I get it Varley. Thank you." You sighed as you sat on one of the settee's. That ache in your heart worsened as you sat there pondering on what to do. What could you do? One option that came to mind was to confront the rumors by seeing a man, which you would never do. Men where just.....pigs. Only thinking about themselves and only their perfection in societies eyes.

"Well, I better get back to work." Varley left the room leaving you as the sun shone into the room and the dust particles floating around. No one hasn't really cleaned this room but it was rather one of the forgotten rooms, or so you've been told. Penelope used to come in here a lot to read but she stopped coming all together. She even told you herself that she wished she never saw what she did when she was smaller.

It made you wonder what actual kind of marriage did Lady and Lord Featherington had. You knew that it was a rather unhappy one but what about the girls? Surely they weren't experiencing such disaray from their father, right?

Tonight would be the time you would travel.

You would travel to her and ask why she couldn't face the rumors with you. Why she had just left you hung on this feeling. Oh how you felt irritated that she just left you on the line. No wonder why the maids were looking at you with disapproval. No wonder some of the sellers in town were refusing service to you.

You rubbed at your temples as the on coming headache worsened. With a groan, you plopped yourself down on the settee, huffing a little as you did so. Time passed as you sat there in your thoughts.

***

As evening fell close you decided not to wait any longer. The rumors swirling around you like a suffocating fog, the disapproving glares from the maids, and the whispers of the town weighed heavily on your mind. You needed answers, and only Lady Featherington could provide them.

The journey to the Featherington country estate was a quiet one. The night air was cool, a slight breeze rustling the leaves as your carriage rattled down the cobblestone streets then onto the bumps from the rocks. As you approached the country estate, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. The once vibrant home now appeared cold, almost ominous in the dim moonlight.

The footmen, with a stern expression, led you inside without a word. The silence of the house was palpable, broken only by the faint sound of a clock ticking somewhere in the distance. You were shown into a small dimly lit drawing room where Lady Featherington sat, a book in her lap, though her eyes were far away, lost in thought.

She looked up as you entered, her face a careful mask of indifference, but you could see the weariness in her eyes. "You've come," she said, her voice flat, devoid of the warmth you remembered.

"Yes," you replied, taking a seat opposite of her. "I needed to see you, to understand why."

She closed the book with a soft thud, placing it on the table beside her. "There's nothing to understand. It's better this way."

"Better?" you echoed, your voice rising slightly in disbelief. "Penelope hasn't been herself. She's withdrawn, distant. And they way people in town have been treating me....I know there's more to this."

Lady Featherington sighed, a heavy, burdened sound. "The Featherington name... it carries weight, expectations. My husband's... decisions, his failures, have placed a strain on this family. Penelope, she's seen too much, known too much, far too young. I tried to shield her, but.."

Her voice faltered, and for a moment, you saw the vulnerable woman beneath the composed exterior. She was a mother, trying to protect her children, but the weight of her husband's indiscretions, his cruelty, had left scars.

"But why push me away? Why let the town turn against me?" you asked frustration bubbling to the surface.

"Because it's safer for you this way," she replied, her tone firm. "You don't belong in this mess. The Featheringtons.... we're or I'm a sinking ship, and I won't have you dragged down with me."

As you sat across from the red haired lady, the weight of her words only fueled the anger simmering within you. The controlled calm you had maintained on your way to the estate began to slip, replaced by a rising tide of frustration and hurt.

"So that's it?" you said, your voice trembling with barely restrained emotion. "You've decided that cutting me out, letting the town turn against me, is the best way to 'protect' me?"

Portia's eyes hardened, her composure slipping just enough to reveal the tension beneath. "You don't understand," she began, but you cut her off.

"No, I don't understand!" you snapped, standing abruptly. "You've treated me like some outsider, like I don't matter! You shut me out without so much as an explanation, leaving to fend off rumors and judgment on my own."

"I did what I had to," she retorted, standing to face you. "For your sake, for Penelope's-"

"For my sake?" You laughed bitterly, the sound sharp in the quiet room. "You didn't do this for me. You did this because you're scared. Scared of what people might think, scared of losing control."

"Scared?" she echoed, her voice rising. "You have no idea what it's like to carry the burden of this family, to make impossible choices just to survive another day!"

"You didn't have to make this choice alone!" you shot back, your voice cracking with the intensity of your emotions. "You never even gave me the chance to stand by you, to help you. You just pushed me away like I was nothing."

The silence that followed was heavy, filled with the unspoken pain and regret that had built between you. Portia's chest rose and fell as she struggled to maintain her composure, her eyes searching yous for understanding, for something she could hold on to.

"I though....I thought it was the only way," she whispered, her voice now devoid of its earlier strength. "I didn't want to drag you into this mess, to see you suffer because of my family's failures."

Your heart ached at her words, but the anger and hurt you felt were still too strong to be easily soothed. "And what about my suffering now? What about the way I've been treated? The way you've treated me?"

She looked away, unable to meet your gaze, and that was when something inside you snapped.

"Damn it, I care about you!" The words burst out before you could stop them, raw and unfiltered. "I care about you more than you realize, more than I've ever admitted, even to myself. And it tears me apart that you don't see that, that you think I'm better off without you."

Lady Featherington's head snapped up, her eyes wide with shock. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the confession hanging in the air like a heavy curtain between you. Her lips parted, as if to speak, but no words came out.

"I've felt this way for so long," you continued, your voice breaking under the weight of your emotions. "And I tried to ignore it, tried to tell myself it wasn't real but nothing but lust, but it is. And I can't stand by and watch you push me away, not when I know what we could have together."

Her breath hitched, and she took a step back, her hand reaching out to the arm of the settee as it to steady herself. "You....you love me?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"Yes," you replied, the truth of it sinking in even deeper as you spoke the words aloud. "And it kills me that you don't think you're worth fighting for. That we aren't worth fighting for."

Tears welled in her eyes, and she looked at you with a mixture of fear, hope, and something else you couldn't quite place. "I never...I never wanted this," she whispered. "I never wanted you to get hurt."

"And I'm telling you," you said, stepping closer, your voice gentler now, "that the only way I get hurt is if you keep shutting me out. If you keep pretending that what's between us isn't real."

For a long moment, you stood there, the distance between you seeming both too vast and too small. Then, slowly, Lady Featherington reached out, her hand trembling as it brushed against yours.

"I'm scared," she admitted, her voice so soft it was almost inaudible. "Scared of what this means, of what could happen If I let you in."

"Then let me be scared with you," you said, your hand closing around hers. "We don't have to face this alone."

She looked up at you, her eyes searching yours for something, some reassurance, some promise that this could be real. And then, with a shaky breath, she nodded a single tear slipping down her cheek.

"Alright," she whispered. "Alright"

And in that moment, something shifted between you- something fragile, but real. The anger, the hurt, the fear-they were still there, but they were no longer insurmountable. Together, you could face whatever came out.

As you stood there, holding her trembling hand, the intensity of the moment began to give way to the questions that had gnawing at you for some time.

You took a deep breath, hesitating for a moment before you spoke. "There's something else I need to understand," you said softly, you thumb brushing gently over the back of her hand. "Something about your husband....about what really happened between you two."

Portia's hand stiffened in yours, her eyes widening with a mixture of fear and pain. She tried to pull away, but you held on, not tightly, just enough to let her know you were there, that you weren't going to let her face this alone.

"He..... he's not someone I like to talk about," she said, her voice barely audible, as if the very mention of him might summon the ghost of his presence. "Not to you....not to anyone."

"I know," you said gently, "but I think it's important. For us. For me to understand why you've built these walls, why you're so scared to let anyone in."

She looked away, her gaze fixing on a point in the distance, and you could see the battle she was wagging within herself, the memories she was trying to suppress. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she spoke, her voice hollow, as though the life had been drained from it.

"He was a monster," she said, the words cutting through the silence like a blade. "Not at first, of course. At first, he was charming, attentive, everything a young woman dreams of in a husband. But that was just a mask, a facade he used to lure me in."

She paused, her breath catching her throat. You could see the anguish in her eyes, the scars that time have never fully healed.

"It didn't take long for the real him to show," she continued, her voice trembling. "The anger, the cruelty, the way he controlled every aspect of my life. He...he had this way for making me feel worthless, like I was nothing without him. And when I didn't fall in line....he used his hands."

Your grip tightened on her hand, a surge of protectiveness rising within you. The thought of anyone hurting her, of anyone causing her such pain, made your blood boil. But you kept your anger in check, knowing that this moment was about her, about the trust she was placing in you by sharing this.

"He made sure I was isolated, cut off from anyone who might see through his lies, anyone who might help me," she continued, her growing steadier as she spoke, as if the act of speaking the truth was giving her strength. "And by the time I realized what he really was, it was too late. I was trapped, and there was nothing I could do."

She pulled her hand from yours, she folded her hands in front of her self. "I stayed with him because I had no choice. For the sake of my daughters, for the sake of the family name. But every day was a nightmare, every moment filled with fear."

You swallowed hard, the weight of her words sinking into your heart. "Why didn't you tell me?" you asked, your voice rough with emotions. "Why didn't you let me help you, even after he was gone?"

"Because I didn't want you to see me like that." she replied, her voice small, vulnerable. "I didn't want you to see the broken parts of me, the parts he left behind. I wanted you to see me as strong, as someone who stand on her own."

"You don't have to be strong all the time," you said, stepping closer to her, your hands gently cupping her face, forcing her to look up at you. "You don't have to carry this burden alone. You don't have to hide from me."

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she shook her head, her voice trembling. "But I'm scared. Scared that if you see all of me, you'll turn away. That you'll realize I'm not worth the trouble, that I'm too damaged to love."

"Never," you whispered, your heart breaking for her, for the pain she had endured. "I love you, all of you. And nothing you've been through, nothing you've faced, could ever change that. You are worth everything, and I'm here to stay, no matter what."

The dam broke then, and she began to cry, deep, wrenching sobs that shook her entire body. You pulled her into your arms, holding her as she wept, you own tears mingling with hers. For the first time, she let herself be vulnerable, let herself lean on someone else, and you were there to catch her, to hold her through the storm.

As the tears subsided, she pulled back slightly, looking up at you with red-rimmed eyes and a look of pure exhaustion. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice hoarse from crying. "Thank you for not giving up on me."

"Never," you repeated, brushing a strand of hair from her face, you thumb gently wiping away the last of her tears. "We're in this together, for better or worse."

She nodded, a faint, tired smile tugging at her lips. "For better or worse," she echoed, and for the first time, you saw a glimmer of hope in her eyes, a spark of something that had long been buried under the weight of her past.

The road ahead would not be easy, and there were still many obstacles to overcome, but in that moment, you knew that you had taken the first step toward healing, together.

[ebodebo]

so…i just spent an ungodly amount of time making this😭😭😭and it’s prolly shitty BUT the song and pen is just so ahhhh I HAD TO DO IT

[girllookingoutwindow]

The light through the window makes her feel warm. The piano song is sweet and peaceful. Her chest breaths calmed. Everything feels cozy, like waking up in the morning after a soft dream.

Penelope remembers the first time she entered the house. The smell, their friendship, the kidness of the words she found there. She never knew a home can feel like this.

She figure out that a place in her heart was there waiting for that moment. She felt in love of all of them.

She loves them still. Even when she doesn't have the right words to describe it. Even if sometimes she wasn't able to said it at laud.

She never knew what a home was before that day.

They share it with her because their kindness.

They're so nice and beautiful. They look like a paint. The smiles in their faces make her feel like an stranger. They look so happy together. He looks happy again.

It something there she can't reach. A feeling of being there and not being there really. Like she's watching the scene from outside, like an spectator in a theatre. She doesn't belong there.

The music takes her to another time. Another life, but with the same dream. To have a home, not a house with empty walls and without noises. To be loved. To feel desired.

She always wanted to know how he feels to belong to someone. To a family, specially one like this one.

His smile makes her remember other smiles. The first time he saw this boy smile her heart felt out of her body. Now, she feels she cannot breath. She doesn't want to. She would love to be froze here, in this moment, and never let go.

Now, she feels like she took his smile from him.

A sad and at the same time warm feeling full her chest. This is all she ever wanted, but it's not hers. Maybe was a beautiful dream but she needs to wake up now.

She needs to give up the house of her dreams and to build a new one, a real one. Because it can't be a home if she doesn't belong there.

Even if it's not a perfect house, it will have love and laughs, it will have a family, and it will be hers.

It will be theirs.

[lachicavoltron333]

I just finished watching bridgerton season 3 part 2 and i just wanna say one thing:

thank you, for everything, it was so good,it made me laugh, it made me cry,it made me happy, i still need Time to get my thoughts correctly, but thank you for giving me something to love and cherish for at least a few months.

- beyaz 🌹🌹🌹

[avada-kedavra-bitch-187-films]

Bridgerton season 3 pt2

Spoilers

Does this make Colin lord whistledown?

- Season 3 has the best ending/epilouge

In conclusion i think season 3 is my fav

Fav seasons in order:

Season 3

Season 1

Season 2

I haven’t see queen Charolette yet so can’t include it

Season 1&3 have the best soundtrack i think but season 3 pt 1 is like top tier

Sorry for how long this is in pt 1 i didn’t start till like the 3rd episode these bitches are like 2hrs long

- Episode 5

- I love how excited they were

- Rather swiftly

- I love the brother trio

- Damn Colin told her(Mrs featherington)

- He loves her ahhhhh

- Not even 15 min in😂

- Tittiessssss ahhhh

- Damn they look good

- Damn pen you look good

- So does Colin damnnnnnnnn

- “Tell me” ahhhhh

- “Are you all right” love a caring king

- I love their giggles

- Anthony and Kate ahh

- Anthony just wants to tell who cares about everything else

- But you are my mess is so adorable

- Damn she was tryna tell you

- Everything’s going by so fast

- Dang Cressida

- Pen done fainted

- Episode 6

- Miss featherington for now Ahhhh it’s so cute

- I just feel so bad for Cressida

- Get it mama bridgerton

- The fight over macrons is so funny

- Francesca having to interrupt for John😂

- Ahhh Francesca getting married

- She knew about Penelope not Cressida

- Colin down baddd

- Not Eloise tryna get Penelope to stop for the sake of her brother

- Your name is about to be bridgerton ahh

- Eloise has the best idea “let it go”

- But pen makes sense she created lady whistle down

- Not the Queen suspicious about Cressida

- Cressida you can’t publish

- What about my dreams poor pen and Mrs featherington

- But he gave me you girls that’s so cute

- No one declare they can’t get married or I’ll fight

- Dang they didn’t announce Francesca’s and she was so excited

- Come on tell him pen

- Dang it’s just that she loves him but i think everyone knows that

- The dancing scene awww

- Not lady danbry tryna make sure her brother don’t get with mama bridgerton

- Francesca just wants to marry him

- I’m so ready for her wedding dress

- Cressida doesn’t even sound close to her

- I’m ready for Colin to find out

- Lady Danbury doing everything to stop her brother and mama bridgerton

- Omg the flower crank display at the ball is beautiful

- Poor Francesca

- Violet making me mad

- Poor Danbury

- I rlly needa watch queen Charlotte and get Danbury backstory

- Oop he gay(Tilly friend)

- Not homeboy hitting on Benedict

- Oop never mind he kissing Tilly

- Threesome??????????

- Oop nope

- Confident in bridgerton is😍

- Sign language ❤️

- does Queen know??

- Those parts are only for you ahhh

- I want to be worthy of you🥺

- That ain’t no damn whistledown

- What happened with Cressida mom or is that just ink

- Does Colin find out?

- Poor pen i hate that’s why she did whistledown

- Aww let me use it for some good

- Colin ahhhhhhh

- He found out he knowssss

- Episode 7

- Damn Colin go off

- Y’all kinda do needa get married cus u “deflowered her”

- Go off pen

- Ahh congrats to that wife(Mr davidsons wife)

- Pens outfits😍

- Eloise is so worried for her brother

- You are the truest friend i have ever known ahh

- Why break your heart this year😭

- Entrapment bitch please

- I was right Bi

- Will Benedict be Bi as well

- I mean i already feel like that

- Get it mama bridgerton

- That chair that madame delacroix has that Penelope sat on in episode 7 i want one so bad it looks so cool

- She tried telling u about Thompson

- She does need whistledown

- R u jealous that she’s a good writer

- Foolish bitch pls

- Aww Colin i love you

- There we go makeup kissing against a door how scandalous

- Marital advice😂😂

- I love Kate and Anthony Just didn’t rlly like the second season but i love them

- He was 10 Lady Danbury he loves u

- Lesson learned dont go after Lady Danbury cane

- Damn pen I love that corset

- Lady Whistledown Isn’t a man it’s a woman

- I love Kate’s wedding outfit

- Omg Yellow as the isle song ahh

- Pens so scared or nervous

- Colin’s reaction to pen at the wedding🥺😍

- The nerves and Colin’s reassuring nod🥺😍

- Holy shit pen looks good

- The veil😍

- The height difference 😂

- The loving glances between the couples😍

- The music begin the vows❤️

- Eloise is so emotional 🥺

- Not the boys staring at the cake😂

- Omg i love pens dressssssss

- Pen feels so undeserving of compliments 😭

- Now that you found peace can she sleep with your brother😂

- Love the Eloise and Benedict duo

- Go talk to her Eloise

- Where u going Cressida

- Edwinaaaa!! Husband!!!!! Whooooooo

- Birth there??!!!??

- Awww i would like for them to be a sharma as well

- I dont know why ppl mad we get more Kate and Anthony cause we barely got them as a couple last season except for the last like 2 episodes

- Mama featherington is a lot better now but i dont know if i like it or not. it feels fake

- Just talk damn it

- A danceeee aww

- But i should like to dance with my husband🥺

- Is that you belong with me by Taylor swift I’m in love😍 that song just feels so right for them

- The dance🥺😍 now i need everyone to disappear like in all the other seasons

- They disappeared ahhhhhh🥺😍

- The dress😍

- The others joining in🥺

- We should be more bold in declaring ourselves😍

- Kilmartin and Francesca dancing🥺

- Get it mama bridgerton

- Ooooooh Anthony spots his mama

- Where’s the keep looking at me???!!! It’s in almost every dancing couple scene in at least 1 episode of each season

- Your a bridgerton now

- Get it Queen👑

- Colin’s so worried for everyone

- Amen pen speak for women

- I mean technically u had a wedding night (in the first episode)

- Threesome??!!!!????!??!??!?

- Yesssssssssssssssssssss

- Bi Benedict yesssss

- Cressida knows

- Episode 8

- Damn u cold Colin

- Visitor??? I bet it Cressida

- Damn i was right

- Damn Cressida that’s cold

- Not Cressida spilling the tea

- I don’t blame mama featherington for feeling betrayed

- Tell him don’t lie

- Love the chess pieces

- Brimsly in the background🥺

- Scotland!!!!

- Colin protecting her♥️

- My wife😍😍

- How much money does she have??? I need to know

- Threesome ahhh

- My wife😍😍

- Yearning for Penelope’s letters🥺

- Penelope is not the villian❤️

- Yesssss understanding

- Feel so bad for pen when he explaining it to Cressida

- Colin gonna reveal it like the book at the ball

- Ok more than 10k less than 20k can i have some

- Next time colin listen to your wife

- Threesome ahhhhhhh

- Gotta love it for benedict

- It is not like i asked for your permission like duh u slept with her dad now she gonna sleep with your brother

- I will pick you over him as you should bestie

- Aww the hat

- Again? get it Benedict!!

- Colin speechless like yea that’s yo wife and she look good

- Sleep with her!!!!!!

- Pens pissed (about the money thing)

- Mama featherington proud of pen🥺love it

- Love Francescas wedding dress

- Also where’s the broken furniture that was suggested in the polin interviews

- I feel bad for what’s gonna happen to Francesca in the upcoming seasons

- Get it mama bridgerton

- Aww kilmartins speech toward mama bridgerton 😭😭🥺

- That’s terrible piano

- You taught me pleasure ok good for u pen

- Omg i love this pen speech to Colin

- She gonna expose herself dumbass

- What does the letters say???

- What is happening

- She jealous i bet u spent more time with Paul

- She didn’t like sharing.called it!

- Poor Ben

- Eloise and Ben duo on the swings again ahhhhhhh love it

- The money was for her sisters ball🥺

- Omg omg

- Come on pen you got this

- Good job pen

- Love the speech

- Yessss Queenn 👑(mean the actual queen)

- The butterflies♥️

- The butterfly on pens hand is everything

- There’s only 1 person who loves the bridgerton more than me😂

- I love u Colin cause this speech is everything

- Mrs. Bridgerton ahhhh(legit just squealed)

- Get it mama bridgerton

- Eloise they gotta have their private time

- Damn get it pen ahhhhh

- Poor Cressida but also she got her karma

- Francesca looks the closest like mama bridgerton

- 3 babies!!!!!!

- Pens baby ahhhhhh

- Since that baby looks only a lil younger than its cousins i bet she got pregnant the first time they did it in episode 1

- Omg omgg omggggggg

- Love it omg

- Penelope bridgerton not lady whistledown