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parkerslatte · 2 months ago

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Beauty

For @erisweekofficial Day 6: AU

Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader (Regency AU)

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: sexism. mentions of illness.

Summary: Throughout their whole childhood, Y/N and Eris grew up with one another, always seeing one another from across the park that separated their houses. However as time goes on, Eris begins to distance himself and Y/N cannot work out why. After an unfortunate incident at a ball, Eris goes to check on Y/N and some truths come to light.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

Nineteen Years Ago

Two eight year olds lay in a shadowed part of a garden, their parents involved in boring adult chatter inside the house. The sun was beginning to set and while the children should be getting ready for a bath and bed, they were giggling happily, clothes stained with mun and pond water.

“You liar!” Little eight year old Y/N exclaimed.

“I’m not lying!” Eris Vanserra replied, nudging Y/N’s arm.

“Yes you are!” Y/N said, crossing her arms over her chest. “And for that I’m telling your mother. My mother told me to never lie.”

“But I’m not lying, Y/N,” Eris pleaded.

Y/N giggled. “But you said you wanted to marry me?”

“I do,” Eris said. “You are my best friend.”

“Do people marry their best friend?” Y/N asked.

Eris shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“If that is how it works then I will marry you,” Y/N said with a wide smile on her face, one of her front teeth missing. “People will be jealous because we will have the most fun at our wedding.”

Eris smiled. “It will be better than anyone elses. My dogs can be a part of it!”

Y/N gasped. “I wish we could get married now and make everyone jealous! It will be so much fun.”

Rain began to fall down upon the pair and Y/N giggled as the cold water hit her face. Eris stood to his feet and looked in the direction of the house.

“I think our parents forgot about us,” Eris said.

“Should we go and tell them about our wedding?” Y/N asked. “Or do you want to play out here more?”

Eris smiled and quickly nudged Y/N and ran away, laughing loudly. Y/N giggled and stood from the wet grass and chased after him, rain falling down around her.

Present Day.

The mirror before her presented an image she was used to. A plain girl with all hope and wonder gone from her eyes. At twenty seven years, Y/N is what many others would consider a spinster. She was not married, nor did she have any prospects. Being a spinster wasn’t what Y/N originally wanted for herself, she would always dream of her very own romance story from a very young age. A whole stack of paper was buried deep within her wardrobe detailing her dream life and wedding day. Y/N couldn’t bear to look at it any longer.

“Are you ready to go?” her mother asked, coming into the room.

Y/N let out a small sigh. “Do I really need to go to this ball? I already know it is going to turn out like any other.”

Her mother fiddled with the ends of her hair already falling out of its updo. “Y/N, we have spoken about this. You need to find a husband soon–”

“Mother, the men at these balls are not any different from the men last season. I know I am not on anyone’s mind in terms of marriage. I am ancient in their eyes,” said Y/N, straightening out her gown.

“Perhaps this time will be different,” her mother suggested.

“We both know it won’t be,” Y/N said sadly. “You should just marry me off to Lord Ashington. I overheard him talking about me at the last ball.”

“Lord Ashington is ancient,” her mother said. “Y/N, I know I push you to marry but I don’t wish for you to end up in a marriage you are unhappy in. I want you to have a whirlwind romance I had with your father.”

“As much as I wanted that too mother, I think it is now time to look at the reality of my situation,” Y/N said. “I am no longer desirable in any man’s eye as I am not new and fresh to the marriage mart. I must settle for the first man with money to look my way. Lord Ashington is the route to go if I want to secure money to provide for you.”

Y/N fought the sting of tears, she turned her face away from her mother so she wouldn’t see but her attempts were futile.

“Oh, my baby,” her mother said, wrapping her arms around Y/N. “This isn’t the life I wished for you.”

Y/N continued to cry against her mothers shoulder. If only Y/N could stay home then everything would be better.

“I have a gift for you,” her mother said as she wiped Y/N’s tears away. “It was meant to be for your birthday but I can give it to you now.”

Her mother disappeared from the room for a minute before returning with a dress draped in white fabric. The moment the dress was unveiled, Y/N gasped at its sheer beauty.

“I have been putting aside money to get it made for you,” her mother said. “I hope you like it.”

Y/N gently touched the fabric. “I love it.”

“If you wish to wear it tonight, I suppose I will allow it,” her mother said.

Y/N wrapped her arms around her mother. “Thank you.”

***

By the time Y/N made it to the drinks table, her feet were aching and she was read to sleep, but even that couldn’t keep the smile from her face. The moment she had stepped into the ballroom, she had gathered more attention than she had in years. Y/N was sure she hadn’t danced this much since her first year in society. She forgot how much she enjoyed it.

“I see you have made a few heads turn tonight,” a voice Y/N never thought she would hear again spoke.

As she turned to face the source of the voice, Y/N felt a tightness in her chest. “What do you want?”

“A dance,” Eris answered. “With you.”

Y/N fought the urge to scoff. It had been years since she had exchanged words with Eris, and even longer since they had had a full conversation. As much as she hated to admit it, she missed the silky smooth tone of his voice.

“My dance card is full,” Y/N answered.

“I can see one space available,” Eris pointed out. “Y/N, please. Just one dance.”

Y/N sighed. “What do you want, Eris?”

“I am only asking for a dance,” Eris answered.

“No. What I meant was, why are you speaking to me? You��re the one who has gone out of your way to avoid me.”

Before Eris had the chance to even open his mouth, a handsome gentleman offered Y/N his hand. “May I have this dance?”

Y/N sent one final look towards Eris before placing her hand in the man’s. “You may.”

As Y/N made her way into the centre of the ballroom, she watched as Eris’s grip on his glass tightened and he looked away. Y/N turned her attention back to the man in front of her and plastered a bright smile on her face. Although for the whole duration of the dance, she couldn’t get the image of Eris out of her mind.

***

“Y/N, it seems like you haven’t had a moment to yourself all night,” Iris, a woman a few years younger than Y/N, said. “All that dancing with so many suitors must have tired you out?”

Y/N nodded. “I suppose it did. I am quite sure I haven’t danced this much in years.”

“I wonder why,” another woman, Evangeline, said thoughtfully and shared a look with Iris.

“Tonight you seemed to catch the eye of every single available suitor here,” Iris continued. “You could have left some for the rest of us.”

Y/N chuckled, although she was beginning to feel quite uncomfortable. “I have seen all of you on the dance floor. All of you are no shot of suitors yourself.”

“But none of us have caught the eye of Eris Vanserra,” Evangeline commented. “And you turned him down.”

Y/N shook her head. “I didn’t turn him down–”

“But I overheard you,” Evangeline siad, a wicked smirk appearing on her face. “He was so eager to dance and you turned him down only to run into the arms of the next man who spoke to you.”

“Eris and I have a…complicated past, I didn’t want to bring up past memories that are best left forgotten,” Y/N explained.

Evangeline took a sip from her drink. “It must have been your dress.”

“My dress?” Y/N asked, confusion evident on her face.

“I mean, how else would you capture Eris’s attention?” Evangeline said and Iris tried to hide her laugh. “Your hair is clearly not doing you any favours, it has already come away from its hairstyle. And you could have done something about those dark circles under your eyes.”

“What are you doing?” Y/N asked.

“I am just confused as to how a spinster has captured the attention of half of the ton. Your dress might be beautiful from far away but anyone with eyes can see how it is cheaply made,” Evangeline said. “Oh look, there is even a loose thread right here…”

Before Y/N could stop her, Evangeline pulled on the single loose thread and the lace decorating the edge of her bust fell away. Y/N gasped and dropped her drink, causing the class to shatter onto the floor. Everyone around the group looked her way.

As Evangeline and Iris laughed, all Y/N could do was stand there. The burning from each and every eye on her was insufferable. Y/N held her hand to where the lace was falling away and fled the ballroom, quickly finding a small sitting room not too far away. The instruments from the ballroom were dull and barely audible as Y/N slumped down on the ornate settee and wiped the tears that had begun to fall.

She wasn’t crying because of the embarrassment caused by Evangeline and Iris. Y/N was crying because of the runed dress. She hadn’t asked what her mother had paid for it and now it was ruined. Her mother rarely ever bought anything for herself for these past few months and now Y/N knew the reason why. Now that reason was ruined.

The door to the sitting room opened and Y/N hastily stood up.

“I am sorry for being in here, I can leave–Eris?” Eris stood in the doorway of the room, looking at Y/N with concern in his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see if you are alright,” Eris said. “Clearly you are not.”

“It’s nothing,” Y/N said. “Something silly.”

Eris’s eyes softened. “I guarantee it is not silly to garner this reaction from you. I know the girl I grew up with would rarely cry at anything.”

“I suppose I have quite a lot to cry about these days,” Y/N said. “I am no longer the girl you once knew Eris. You would have known that if you cared for me anymore.”

“Of course I care,” Eris said, stepping further into the room.

Y/N scoffed. “You have a funny way of showing it.”

Slowly, Eris closed the door behind him. Y/N’s eyes widened.

“What are you doing? If I am seen alone with you, do you know how it will ruin me?” Y/N exclaimed.

“Then I will say that you were quite ill and I found you passed out in the hallway on my way out and found you somewhere to rest your head and then I will swiftly take my leave when I know that you are in safe hands,” Eris said.

“Why did you follow me, Eris? We haven’t spoken in years,” Y/N said, completely defeated as she sat down on the settee.

“I know,” Eris said, sadness lacing his tone. “And that will be one of the biggest regrets of my life.”

Y/N watched out of the corner of her eye and Eris walked over to her and sat next to her. The settee was small enough that Y/N could feel the heat of Eris through his jacket. If she had still been Seventeen and so desperately in love, she would have inched closer. Alas, she was no longer Seventeen and she had larger things on her mind than a simple touch that still sent her senses into overdrive.

The two sat in silence for a while, the sounds of the ballroom muffled. The tears Y/N had shed were now dried up and she was sure her eyes were now bloodshot and pink. She fiddled with the lace in her hands, more of it had come away from the bodice and the more it came away the more her heart sank.

“You look beautiful tonight,” Eris said quietly. “I haven’t told you that yet.”

“I am sure you mean ‘looked’,” Y/N said. “I don’t feel beautiful right now.”

“You are,” Eris said with such a tenderness in his tone that it caused Y/N’s heart to skip a beat. “You always are.”

Y/N finally met Eris’s gaze and she felt herself melting. His gaze always had the power to do that. “What is bringing this on?”

“Does there need to be a reason?” Eris said.

“Yes, because you have avoided me for years. You cannot simply talk to me out of nowhere and call me beautiful when the last time I tried to speak to you, you walked away from me and left me alone in the middle of the ballroom,” Y/N said.

Eris looked at his lap almost shamefully. “I regret that, Y/N. I truly do. I wanted– want– nothing more than to speak with you, dance around ballrooms with you, talk with you until the dead of night.”

“What changed?” Y/N dared to ask. “Everything was going well, Eris. Even my mother thought we would end up engaged before I made my debut.”

Eris sighed. “Do you remember when your father passed away?”

Y/N nodded. She remembered that day vividly. Her mother was distraught and could barely keep herself together. Y/N depended on the maids to help her with her studies and making sure that her mother was okay. When Eris learned of the news, he moved into Y/N’s house for nearly three months. His father never gave his permission but Eris would defy any order his father gave him to help Y/N.

“Well after he passed, my father noticed your mother taking money from your dowry to pay the maids and staff. He only noticed this change as your mother came to him for help once as your father always did all the finances. Once he noticed the low sum in your dowry, he didn’t want me anywhere near you incase your mother thought of the idea to marry you off to me to claim money from the Vanserra’s,” Eris explained.

Y/N shuffled away. “The reason you avoided me was all because I was a burden to you.”

“Not at all,” Eris said quickly, inching his hand closer to her. “Please let me finish.”

There was no deceit on his face, he seemed truthful. Slowly, Y/N nodded.

“When he told me to stay away, I told him to stay out of my business, although not as kind as that.”

Y/N couldn't help herself but let out a quiet laugh. A small smile appeared on Eris’s face.

“Anyway, after that I continued to see you and came by your house almost every single day after that,” Eris said. “You were my best friend, someone who I love dearly. I could not simply stay away from you. It was torture.”

“Then why did you avoid me after that night you came to me?” Y/N said.

Thinking back to the night of her seventeenth birthday, Y/N always looked back on it with fondness but as time went on it became more and more painful. Did she do something wrong? Was she not what Eris wanted? Was she undesirable?

“You knew how my life could have been ruined if anyone found out what we did, Eris,” Y/N said. “I allowed you to kiss me. I allowed you to take me to bed.”

“I know and I wish I could go back in time and propose to you right there and then,” Eris admitted. “I was ready to as well. My mother gave me her engagement ring.”

Her heart sank to her feet. “What?”

“That night I was going to propose to you, Y/N,” Eris said. “I didn’t care that you hadn’t made your debut yet. I didn’t care that my father was so obsessed with even more money. I didn’t care about any of that because all I could care about was how much I loved you.”

“Then why didn’t you propose?” Y/N asked.

“The weekend of your birthday, my father was out of town on business and it was only my mother and brothers in the house. All of my brothers were all too young to really care about what I was doing and my mother was glad to be rid of my father for a while and she went to visit an old friend. But that night I brought you into my bed, my father came home early. Since it was just my mother and brothers, we didn’t close the door properly, he saw the both of us,” Eris said, his hand anxiously twitching in his lap.

Y/N’s eyes widened. “He saw us? Why did you never tell me?”

Eris shrugged. “I couldn’t. He made me promise that if I didn’t propose to you and abandoned my entire friendship with you then he would keep what he saw to himself. If I didn’t then he would tell the ton and you and your mother would have been ruined.”

“I fought of course,” Eris said. “I said that if he released that information, I would marry you on the spot and tell everyone that we had been engaged since before your birthday. I would have needed to make up a date but the plan would have worked. But my father made another threat. If I followed through with that plan then he would cut me off. I would be penniless and kicked out onto the streets. I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t drag you down with me.”

“Eris,” Y/N said. “Why did you never tell me any of this?”

“I was afraid of my father finding out,” Eris said. “I never wanted you at the centre of any negative gossip.”

“We might have been only seventeen, Eris, but I would have happily lived on the streets with you than live the nightmare of trying to find a husband,” Y/N said.

“But I wouldn’t have wanted that life for you, Y/N,” Eris said. “I wanted to be able to provide for you and make sure you have all the luxuries you deserved.”’

Y/N gently placed her hand on top of Eris’s. “All I wanted was you. I didn’t care about wealth or social status, not when I was around you.”

Eris squeezed her hand. “I always knew you would say that. But I could not let that happen. When I imagined my life with you, I always imagined living in a large house in the countryside. I imagined being able to provide for you, treating you to extravagant dresses that I knew you would ruin when you gardened. I imagined children running around that would look exactly like you. They would grow up in a loving home, safe and secure.”

Eris paused. “I still imagine all of that to this day. There are some days that I ponder the life I would be having right now if my father never saw us that night and I went through with my proposal. I think of the children we might have. I think of the home we would be living in. I think of how much happier I would be with you by my side.”

“You still think about us?” Y/N asked.

Eris nodded. “Constantly. Lately I have avoided going to balls because I know I would see you and my restraint lately is wearing quite thin.”

“Why are you telling me this now?” Y/N asked. “If your father finds out that you are alone with me, won’t he follow through on his promise?”

“I am here alone tonight,” Eris said. “My mother has kept this gossip from spreading all around the ton, but my father is quite ill. Doctors say that he might not make it to the end of the season.”

There was no emotion on Eris’s face as he spoke. She couldn’t decipher how he felt about the matter.

“And how do you…feel about this news?” Y/N asked carefully.

“Honestly?” Eris asked. Y/N nodded. “Honestly I feel relieved. I know I shouldn’t because he is my father but he has always felt like a stranger to me. Even when I was a child he never took any interest in me and the only time he did was to make sure I was fit to run the household in the future. Is that an awful thing to say?”

Y/N shook her head. “I don’t think so. I remember how your father was, he was never kind nor welcoming.”

Eris sighed. “I am sorry, Y/N. I came in here to comfort you and instead I have turned this whole ordeal about me.”

Y/N offered him a small smile. “Well, it was relevant information.”

Eris chuckled. “Yes, I suppose it was. Now, if you wish to be left alone, I perfectly understand and I shall leave you alone in peace.”

There was one question still swirling around Y/N’s head. One question she had wanted answered for many years.

“Did you still love me?” Y/N asked.

Eris looked confused for a moment. There was a long pause before he answered.

“Of course I do,” Eris said. “Were you even listening to my confession that I still think of the life we would have had together?”

Y/N laughed and nudged Eris. “Of course I was. I wanted to hear you say it.”

“Do you wish to hear it again?” Eris asked. “Because I will happily comply.”

Y/N nodded and Eris stood from his seat and bent down on one knee. “Y/N L/N. I love you.”

“Eris, what are you doing?” Y/N asked.

“Something I should have done a long time ago,” Eris answered. “I know that we still have a lot to talk about. I know that there are still things to work through. But I love you Y/N and I cannot live without you in my life any longer. Tonight has been torture, watching other men dance with you and make you smile and laugh, I wished I was in their place. But unlike those men, I know how to make you really smile and laugh. I know your deepest fears and greatest ambitions. I know how you like your tea. I know how you got that small scar on your bicep. I know exactly how you like to be kissed.”

Y/N felt a blush creep up her cheeks.

“I know more about you than those suitors ever will. What I am asking you Y/N L/N, is if you will marry me?”

On the surface, Y/N knew she shouldn’t accept this proposal. For years, Y/N had been left believing that she wasn’t good enough for Eris, that she wasn’t good enough for anyone. But something deep within her only wanted him, she always had ever since she knew what love really was. Even in the times when Eris avoided her, she sometimes thought back to their friendship and stolen kisses. She thought about how much she missed him.

“You don’t need to accept. I can leave this room and we can pretend like I never proposed,” Eris reassured.

Y/N wasn’t sure what to say but the words that came out of her mouth were not what she was expecting.

“Technically we are already engaged,” Y/N blurted out.

“What?” Eris said, looking confused.

“You proposed to me when we were eight,” Y/N said. “We were going to have a wedding everyone would be jealous of.”

Eris’s eyes brighten in recognition. “I remember that. I was only a child but I didn’t even fully understand the concept of marriage. But I knew that I always wanted you to be with me.”

Y/N smiled. “I have a stack of paper hidden in my wardrobe detailing every part of the wedding I would have had with you.”

Eris laughed. “Perhaps we can put those plans to use after all.”

Something within Y/N knew that the next words to come out of her mouth were the right words and the words that would change her life for the better.

“I think we need to rework some of the plans but overall, I think they could work,” Y/N answered.

A small look of uncertainty flashed across Eris’s face. “Are you accepting my proposal, Y/N?”

“Yes I am,” Y/N said. “I will marry you Eris. We still have things to discuss but we can do that another night. Tonight, let us celebrate.”

A long sigh of relief left Eris as the weight of the world seemed to be lifted. “I believe that is a good idea.”

Y/N stood to her feet while Eris remained kneeled before her. Y/N gently touched his chin, tilting his head. He was so beautiful.

“I don’t have a ring,” he muttered.

“You don’t need to worry about that now,” Y/N said. “I doubt you thought you would be proposing tonight.”

“No, I didn’t,” Eris replied.

He slowly stood to his feet and Y/N now tilted her head to look at him. They stood nearly chest to chest and Y/N felt her breathing get heavier.

“Here,” Eris said, pulling off his silver signet ring. “Wear this until I can get you your engagement ring.”

As Eris slipped it onto her finger, everything suddenly became real. Eris was really her fiance. She was an engaged woman. The man standing before her would soon be her husband. When she stood in front of her mirror earlier that evening, Y/N felt like she was scraping the bottom of the barrel, not she felt as if she were on the top of the world. It was a feeling she could get used to.

The ring on her finger was slightly loose but it still felt right. Y/N looked up at Eris who was looking down at her with so much love in his eyes. Y/N couldn’t help but lean forward to rest her forehead on his.

“I love you, Y/N,” Eris whispered, his breath fanning her face.

Y/N wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly, breathing in his familiar scent. It immediately put her at ease.

“Shall we announce to everyone that we are engaged?” Eris asked.

“Would we be able to stay here just a moment longer?” Y/N asked. “As much as I would love to wipe the smirks from Evangeline and Iris’s faces, I still haven’t processed everything properly.”

Eris nodded and leaned forward. Y/N was expecting his lips to fall upon her own, when they didn’t she found herself to be quite disappointed. Although his lips were soon pressed against her cheek.

“We can stay here for as long as you like,” Eris replied.

Y/N smiled and held out her hand. The music from the ballroom was dull and faint but it was still audible. “Then how about a dance with your future wife.”

Eris smirked and took her hand in his. “I like the sound of that.”

As Eris danced with her in the sitting room, Y/N smiled and laughed genuinely for what felt like the first time in a long time. She let go and had fun. The weight that she had been pulling around with her for years had finally been lifted.

Despite her and Eris still needing to work things out, she finally relaxed in his arms and allowed herself to feel that childlike glee she had when her and Eris would dance around the day room when they were younger. The steps were messy yet everything was more than perfect.

“Future husband,” Y/N mused. “I quite like the sound of that.”

When Eris quickly pecked her lips, Y/N was not able to process it until he was pulling away and heading to the door.

“Let us go so I can tell the world that you are to be my wife,” Eris said impatiently.

Y/N smiled and allowed him to take her hand in his. When she followed him to the ballroom, everything else became a blur as she was swept up in a dance with Eris. Despite the lace hanging off her dress and the redness around her eyes. She had never felt so beautiful before. Not because of the man spinning her around the ballroom floor but because of the way the man made her feel. He made her feel like herself again. She made her feel whole.

“Future husband,” Y/N muttered.

“Future wife,” Eris replied as the dance came to an end.

There was no one else in the room as Eris took a step forward and pulled Y/N into a kiss. Gasps echoed around them but Y/N didn’t care about being proper. She didn’t care that this gossip would spread around the ton. After all, they were already engaged, there wasn’t much that could run either of them now.

As Eris pulled away he uttered three simple words against her lips.

“You are beautiful.”

For the first time in a long time Y/N truly felt it.

#eris vanserra #erisweek2024 #eris acotar #eris vanserra x reader #eris x reader #eris #acotar #acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses

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starryevermore · 6 months ago

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the house of snow (18) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his.

chapter summary: you say the words coriolanus is so desperate to hear.

word count: 1,785

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later

chapter warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, smut, unprotected sex, p in v sex, outdoors sex, skinny dipping, fluff, pet name (petal), not proofread

“Do you know how to swim?” Coryo asked, settling behind you, pressing a kiss to your neck as you rifled through the wardrobe to find something to wear for the day. Ordinarily, your lady’s maid was to help you pick out your outfits and help you into them, but you found that you liked including your husband—your husband—in the process instead.

“Yes.”

You could feel the smile on Coryo’s lips as he kissed your neck again. “Good. There’s a lake on the property that I’d like to take you to. Swim, have a picnic—” he nips at your neck “—perhaps have a little more fun.”

A giggle escaped you. “That sounds lovely. But what would you have said if I didn’t?”

“Offer to let you cling to me.”

“I’m sure you’ll do that anyways.” You moved your head, exposing more of your neck to him. “But I didn’t have any swimming clothes packed.”

Your knees nearly buckled as Coryo sucked on a sensitive spot just below your ear. “That’s where the little more fun comes in, my pretty petal.”

“My, my, I didn’t know my husband was so insatiable.”

“How could I be satiated when you’re so addicting? For every piece of you, you offer, I find myself wanting more.” Coryo pulled away then reached around you, pulling a pale pink dress out. “Put this on while I ask the staff to prepare lunch for us.”

“Hurry back,” you said, turning around so you could face him, “I might surely die if I’m deprived of my husband.”

Coryo grinned. “Now who’s insatiable?”

You giggled, watching as Coryo leaned down for a kiss before disappearing out the door. Once he was gone, you began to dress for the day. Butterflies fluttered around in your tummy as you thought about your husband. Your husband. You never would have thought that the word would have you blushing like a schoolgirl—certainly not when that very husband was Coriolanus Snow. And yet, here you were, twirling around in a pretty pink dress, giggling at the thought of seeing Coryo in a compromising position while swimming.

A grin stretched across your face as you heard the door opening, Coryo stepping inside. Though you weren’t looking at him, you could practically hear the pout on his face as he said, “Damn. I was hoping to catch you undressed.”

“Then we never would make it to the lake,” you said.

“And, oh, what a shame would that be.”

You held your Coryo’s hand as you walked down the dirt path to the lake. Your dress dragged the ground, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to pick up the skirts. If only your mother could see you now—she would surely have a heart attack if she knew you were about to be positively ravished anywhere but a bedroom. Stifling a giggle, you glanced at Coryo from the corner of your eye. He was already looking down at you, a soft smile on his plush lips. You moved up to your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“How did you manage to convince the Peacekeepers to let us come alone?” you asked when you pulled away.

You had been surprised when Coryo led you out of the cottage, holding onto you with one hand, a picnic basket in the other. No one followed after the two of you like they normally did. When you had sent Coryo a questioning look, he kissed your temple and ushered you along.

“I told them I would sooner carve out their eyes than allow them to see me fuck their Queen.”

“Coryo!” you chastised, hand smacking his chest. “You can’t say things like that!”

“And why not?” His smile turned into a smirk as he bumped his hip against yours. “Everyone knows what happens during the honeymoon period. Is it a crime to say it aloud?”

You leaned your head against his arm. “I just don’t want anyone but you to think of me like that.”

“Oh, petal,” Coryo cooed. An arm wrapped around your shoulders, tugging you into his side. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I won’t say things like that again. Being with you robs me of any sense of propriety. All I want is for people to know that I’m the lucky man who gets to warm your bed, who makes you smile and laugh, who is fortunate enough to be called your husband.”

Laughing, you said, “You can wax poetic to whoever you want. Just leave our more intimate moments between us.”

“Deal.”

The lake soon came into view. It was beautiful. Something straight out of a fairytale. The water sparkled under the sun’s rays. And the water—oh, it was so blue. You would almost think it was artificial if it didn’t look like it had been untouched by humans for decades. As you neared the lake, Coryo dropped the picnic basket to the ground and led you out onto the dock.

A giggle escaped you as he quickly removed his clothes before reaching for you, undoing the ties on your dress. As it slipped off your shoulders, down your hips, a growl rumbled from Coryo’s chest. “You wore nothing else?”

“What? I can’t seduce my husband on our honeymoon?”

His hands came to rest on your hips, tugging you against him. You giggled again and placed your hands on his chest. “Say thank you for me not allowing the Peacekeepers to come.”

You stood on your tiptoes and gently kissed him. When you pulled away, you whispered on his lips, “Thank you, Coryo.”

“Now, for your punishment—”

“Wait, what—”

Coryo picked you up as if you were a doll, took you to the edge of the dock, and tossed you into the lake. You screamed as you hit the water. Another splash quickly followed. Coryo emerged beside you. His eyes crinkled at the corners. One arm wrapped around your waist, the other tangling itself in your hair. He pulled you in for a searing kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You moaned and moved your legs to wrap around his hips. His hand on your waist fell to your hip to help support you.

“Fuck, petal—” he groaned.

“Would you?”

And, oh, he would.

Coryo reached into the picnic basket, pulling out a container of strawberries. He took care with selecting one before placing it at your lips, looking down at you as you took a bite. Your back was pressed against his chest, still bare after the swim, and hummed in appreciation at the sweet taste. Tilting your head up, you watched as he finished off the strawberry. You turned slightly and leaned up to steal a kiss.

“Little minx,” he chastised. He, nevertheless, was quick to chase after you for another kiss.

“How am I the minx when you’re the one who suggested this entire little escapade?”

“Because you went along with it, little petal,” Coryo said.

You laughed and shook your head at him. Of course that would be his logic. Never mind that this was his entire grand plan, that you only went along for the ride. But, if that was going to be his argument, you supposed you should give him something to support the rhetoric. You turned around to face him, settling on your knees. You bit down on your lip as Coryo’s eyes drifted down to your bare chest. “I do believe you promised me more fun, did you not?” you asked, grabbing his hands and pulling them to your waist.

“I did.”

“And what kind of husband would you be to break such promises?”

“A horrible one,” he groaned, pulling you closer to him. You swung a leg over either side of his lap, your hips settling against his. He hardened against your thigh. “You should send me straight to the gallows if I ever dared to deny you.”

“Let’s not let it come to that.”

“Let’s not,” he agreed. He reached between the two of you, guiding his cock through your slick folds. Your head fell against his. A gasp escaped you as you sunk down on him. You had only taken him in this position a few times before—it still took you by surprise, how much bigger he felt like this. Your nails dug into his shoulder as Coryo groaned out, “Fuck, petal, keep squeezing me like that and I’ll serve you Panem on a silver platter.”

You kissed him, desperate for more of him. “You’ve already given me everything I could ever want.”

Coryo’s fingers dug into your hips as he guided you up and down his length. You were grateful for it, your legs already trembling from the mounting pleasure. Sensing your exhaustion, Coryo pulled you against his chest, cradling you as he rolled you onto your back. Your back arched off the picnic blanket. Oh, how was this so much more pleasurable now?

“Coryo—” you gasped.

A hand fell between your legs, his nimble fingers rubbing circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hand caught his wrist, holding him there as he thrust into you. The coil deep in your belly began to tighten, so close to snapping.

“Go ahead, my petal, come for your King,” he cooed. He draped his body against you, his nose nudging against yours. “Come for your husband. Come for your Coryo.”

You screamed as the coil finally snapped. Coryo pulled his hand out from between your legs, cupped your face, and pulled you into a searing kiss. His hips continued to rut into you as he chased his high. It was one of the few moments where you got to see your husband truly desperate, and all of it for you. His hips stuttered as he finally toppled over the edge, still fucking his spend into you.

“I love you,” he breathed against your lips.

“And I love you.”

You felt him smile. But then he pulled away, his brows pinched together. Coryo brushed some stray strands of hair from your face, his pale blue eyes searching yours. Looking for any doubts, any hints of insincerity. You just smiled up at him, and said those words again. “You mean it?” he asked.

“More than anything.”

A smile broke out, his white teeth twinkling. “Say it again.”

You only laughed. “Give me a reason to,” you challenged.

He did. He gave you many, many reasons. And when the two of you eventually made it back to the cottage, a right mess compared to the regal King and Queen you would have to act like in front of the Capitol, you showed him just how much you loved him in return.

#the house of snow: a royal coryo au #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus snow x female reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x y/n #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow fan fiction #coriolanus snow fanfic #coriolanus snow fan fic #coriolanus snow fic #starrywrites #starryevermore

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whennnow · 1 year ago

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Making a Regency Soft-Crown Bonnet

April 22, 2021

[Image ID: A blue soft-crown bonnet with white ribbon and a white feather displayed in profile on a foam mannequin head. A blue and white drawstring reticule and a pair of white leather gloves are displayed next to it.]

With the underthings and classic white dress for my Regency wardrobe done, I can focus on expanding my wardrobe with accessories! Several years ago I bought maybe a yard or so of a silk-like polyester in a lovely shade of blue. I've already made an embroidered Regency reticule out of it, so I decided to make a matching bonnet!

I opted to get the Zenobia Regency bonnet pattern and kit from Timely Tresses, since this is my first foray into millinery, and chose brim 1 with the 8-piece crown. The kit comes with everything you need to make the bonnet except for thread, fashion fabric, and trim.

I started by prepping the brim as the instructions say - cutting the brim out of buckram, attaching the millinery wire to the brim, and then covering the edge with crinoline tape. Attaching the wire was a bit of a struggle! The edges of the buckram kept catching on my sleeves and the wire was jumping all over the place. Thankfully that was the hardest part of the whole process.

I decided to interline both sides of the brim with the netting that came with the kit by using a running stitch to attach the net to one side at a time.

Binder clips came in handy on this project! Buckram is stiff and hard to pin into, so I used the clips to "pin" the crinoline tape in place, then the netting, and later the brim fashion fabric, which I'll get to in a moment.

The brim then gets traced onto the brim fabric and cut out with a half-inch seam allowance, which I sort of eyeballed. The outer edge of the brim gets sewn together, then you turn it inside out (and you should probably press it, but I didn't) and put the brim inside. I used the binder clips again to hold the fabric in place securely so I could baste the inner edge of the brim closed tightly.

With the brim prep done, I cut out the crown pieces from my fashion fabric and the linen lining from the kit. I chose the 8-piece crown, so I pinned two pieces together, sewed those four "pairs" together, then sewed two pairs together which left me with halves that could be sewn together. A complicated explanation of a simple process.

Those seams then get pressed open and you can sew in the center circle. That took a bit of fiddling, but I got it done and pressed the seam. Then the seam allowance at the outer edge of the crown (on both the outer and lining fabric) is supposed to be pressed in but I didn't do that. After that you can insert the lining. The instructions say to use a slip stitch but I decided on a whip stitch instead and found that the curved millinery needle included in the kit helped with stitching into the brim fabric without having to warp the buckram and wire in the brim.

I actually added a step before I attached the lining! I had some leftovers of the white cord I used on the embroidered reticule that perfectly well along the seam of the brim and crown, so I attached that before the lining so I could hide my stitches and the ends of the cord. The cord was actually a few inches too long, so I coiled it up at one end and am using it to hold the feather in place and hide the end of the feather.

Once I went back and attached the lining I could finish the decorating. I had two yards of 1" wide white silk ribbon that I had left over from the straps of my 1920s combinations. Based on some fashion plates (like these from May 1800, September 1800, 1801, 1803, 1804, 1808, September 1808) I decided to attach the ribbon toward the back of the bonnet, tack it down at the ends of the brim, and leave the ends loose to tie either below the chin or wrapped back up to tie on top of the head.

And then I was done!

Making a bonnet was way easier than I expected and I'm in love with the results! I do wish the pattern instructions had included more tips (like when to use the curved needle or how best to attach the circle in the crown), but I was able to figure it out. There weren't really any new skills needed for this, any difficulty just came from how fiddly some steps were.

But if you give a girl a matching bonnet and reticule, she might want a bodice to go with it, so stay tuned ;)

Stay warm. Stay safe. Stay healthy.

#wnn accessories #regency wardrobe #regency sewing #regency era #millinery

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emkayewrites · 2 months ago

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Lukola fanfic excerpt: Luke and Nicola have feelings for one another but have not confessed them to each other. They are filming the one-take wedding dance scene. It goes as well as you can imagine.

(Excerpt taken from my fanfiction 'Curtain Fall')

28th November 2022 – Surrey (UK)

The Gallery was an ornately decorated room, with adornments of brightly-coloured flowers, sumptuous tapestries and antique furniture. Large windows framed by draperies of velvet and silk lined the space, allowing natural light to filter through.

Nicola considered how this majestic room would very shortly be filled with people and noise. There would be the crew and then there would be the cast mates and extras, all in their various regalia. This would be the last time this season that they would all be together in a scene. Although some of the cast would still be returning to film additional scenes, today would mark her last filming day with everyone – including Luke. If that was not enough to create an enormous feeling of occasion; it was also the day they would be filming Penelope and Colin’s wedding dance. If she let herself linger on these thoughts for too long, she found her throat becoming dry and her heart start to race. She could not let her mind overcome the muscle memory she was planning to rely on – not today.

She tried to orient herself to something that would distract her. She gazed at the mirror on the wall in front of her and at the scene it showed was happening behind her: two crew members fiddled with lighting as Tom, their director, presided over them with his usual commanding yet father-like presence. There was something about the familiarity of the scene that felt comforting.

Then her eyes shifted to her own reflection. Whilst it was true that she had been in front of mirrors since five o’clock that morning, she had not truly looked at herself. She had been going through the sleep-deprived motions: taking sharp intakes of breath as the wardrobe team fitted her into her corsetry, yawning her way through the make-up teams’ application of thick, glamourous make-up on her face, neck, cleavage and even arms. Sure, she had been slightly more alert when she was allowed to cautiously sip a strong black coffee with her usual seven sugars as her hair was expertly styled but even then, she had not really woken up. Now, in the bright light of day and with the adrenaline coursing through her; she finally realised why everyone had been getting emotional at the sight of her. She understood what all the fuss was about.

She stood resplendent in a blush satin gown that gracefully fell to the floor around her. Her silhouette was perfectly accentuated by an empire waist; the neckline was tastefully rounded and short, slightly puffed sleeves added a little of Penelope’s individual flair to the look. Her hair was a more striking shade of auburn than usual and styled with jeweled hairpins into a soft, intricate up-do with curls gently framing her face. Her makeup was a lot softer and more natural in appearance than it felt on her face; rosy cheeks, a hint of pink on her lips and subtle but dark eye make-up enhanced her large eyes.

Even she had to admit that she looked beautiful.

“Woah.”

Luke’s voice came from off to the side.

He walked in through the grand entrance: tall, dark and handsome. He wore the traditional formalwear of the Regency era; a black, finely tailored frock coat that highlighted his athletic build with an ivory waistcoat underneath. An expertly tied navy-coloured cravat and silver brooch finished off his look.

She felt her breath catch.

He was immaculate.

He looked at her with awe written across his face. It took her a minute to realise he was likely as mesmerised by her as she was by him.

“Hello to you too.” She managed to respond, forcing a smile that should be coming naturally.

It was not that she was not happy to see him. It was that she was too happy to see him. All she wanted to do was leap up, wrap her arms around him, run her hands through his beautifully combed hair and kiss him. The urge was so strong that it took her aback. She would need to scale her emotions back around him; she would need to be the best actress she had ever been to achieve this. The one small mercy that she had was that once the cameras rolled, she could ease up on herself. She could let herself look at him with the mixture of fascination and obsession she wanted to because it would not be her looking. It would be Penelope.

His eyes scanned over her, she thought that there was an element in them that conveyed restlessness and some sense of dissatisfaction.

Was she reading too much into things?

She had been plagued with thoughts of what if.

What if he felt what she felt?

No, she could not read too much into his emotions. She tried to remind herself that this day was bringing an emotional side out in everyone. It would be strange if he was his usual laidback self. In fact, it made more sense that he seemed somewhat disturbed. They were all disturbed. The scenes they were filming were high stakes, carrying with them the weight of the most important love story from that season.

“You look…” He started but seemed to interrupt himself. “I mean – are you – are we OK?”

“Yes, of course.” She was quick and somewhat defensive in her reply. “I’ve just been insanely busy as things are winding down.”

This was a lie.

Over the last few weeks, Luke had been contacting her nearly every day with an assortment of memes, random musings and direct requests to meet up for private rehearsal of their final scenes. She had responded evasively, if at all. She had felt awful doing it. Yet, the alternative was to spend time with him alone – something she did not trust herself with. In truth, these were not intimacy scenes that she or he would be highly anxious about and need private or even additional rehearsals for. She knew that he was asking so that they could just spend time together, but this no longer felt appropriate for her. He wanted a friend to banter with, she wanted to do things to him she could not say without blushing. They were in different places.

“I really wanted to celebrate your last day in our traditional style – with some kind of feast in one of our trailers.” He smiled, a sparkle of excitement in his eyes. “You pick.”

She reminded herself of her sister’s sage advice: keep your distance and keep your knickers on.

“I’m really sorry, I’m heading off set and straight to a Barbie shoot.” This was at least not a lie.

“Oh, wow, I forgot that was coming up. That’s amazing, Nic.” He continued smiling, a hopeful tone to his voice. “I’ll be wrapped and back in the city on Saturday – maybe we feast then?”

She felt her heart sink.

Why was he so sweet?

Why did this feel like killing a puppy?

“I’m sorry Luke…” She apologized again. “We’re doing Christmas abroad this year and leaving in under two weeks. I just haven’t got the time. We can catch up when I’m back in the New Year?”

He seemed unconvinced by her answer, concern spreading across his face.

Before their conversation could continue, Tom was standing over them with Jack, their lead choreographer, right behind him.

“You guys look amazing.” Tom complimented them, scratching at his head.

“So, are we ready?” Jack asked, rubbing his hands together with excitement.

Nicola surveyed the expansive yet mostly empty room around them. She spotted their cinematographer and a handful of the crew by the cameras, watchful and waiting.

“Is everyone else late?” She found herself asking out loud.

Jack and Tom exchanged knowing looks. Luke stared at them and then at her, matching her confusion.

“No, no one is late – you guys are just a little early.” Tom explained, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “I wanted time for us to get Penelope and Colin doing their first dance here, just the two of them stealing a moment alone together.” Tom gestured to the room around them, a wide grin on his face.

“And Jack’s here a little bit early too just to offer some choreographic wisdom but really, I was hoping you guys could just let go a little, be a little spontaneous in movement…” Tom continued.

“I would say, do the steps but without overthinking the manners and formality.” Jack added.

Nicola digested this. The one area of safety she had been clinging onto was to switch her mind and emotions off, and to surrender into the role of Penelope with the carefully planned out steps and words that she was scripted to do. Now, she was having to contend with having to act from a place of improvisation. Improvisation that had previously led her to completely lose control of herself with him. The mental gymnastics of it all made her brain hurt.

“Sounds good to me.” Luke responded in a nonchalant tone that seemed inauthentic to her.

“Do you guys want to go through a quick sequence…?” Jack queried, but Tom was quick to wave off his suggestion.

“No, let’s just go right now with whatever you guys have in the bag – I want to get as many spontaneous takes as possible.”

“Yay, spontaneity.” Nicola weakly enthused, eliciting a nervous chuckle from Luke.

“Right, we’ll go from your mark here.” Jack guided them to their spot in front of the cameras before shuffling back to stand behind one of the monitors.

Nicola felt her heartrate increase again.

They stood face-to-face, the gap between them was just a few inches. She felt as if her whole body was vibrating. There was something about being in a wedding dress, in front of him in a tux, in this grand and historic room that caused a swell of emotion to overcome her.

Jesus Christ, get it together. She tried to tell herself.

“Let loose a little bit. There’s no audience. It’s just Colin and Penelope.” Tom directed, standing behind the camera. “It’s the day they’ve overcome obstacle after obstacle to get to. This is where they finally get to just be themselves, no pomp and circumstance.”

Luke nodded in acknowledgement, and Nicola followed, bobbing her head at Tom.

“Alright – action!”

Immediately, her eyes were locked onto his. That was all it took for her to decide to just surrender. No more defenses. She knew she was gazing at him adoringly, wistfully, hungrily… her chest heaved with the deep breaths she took as she fell into the familiar configuration of steps that they had repeated hundreds of times.

They moved in perfect synchronicity like they had a so many times before in their rehearsals but this time, it felt different. This time, she was Penelope without her guardrails. She was Penelope alone with the man she had ached for for most of her life. She was Nicola. She was Nicola not having to restrain herself from not only touching him but holding onto him with a grip so tight that it was telling on her.

The world and people around them seemed to disappear as they danced around one another; drawing closer, touching, then breaking apart again, gently pulling further back before once again, being lured towards one another. Pulling and pushing like two gravitational forces that could not quite work out if they attracted or repelled.

She could not take her eyes away from his. There was a look in them that was intense and longing.

This is our goodbye. She thought to herself, her heart silently breaking.

The surge of emotion was so great, she felt tears sting angrily at her eyes. There were so many reasons why she could not cry right now. She saw that his own eyes were glassy with the threat of tears too. Instinctively, they pushed against each other, holding one another tightly, and she felt his hand gently caress the side of her face, making electricity shoot through her body as their lips drew closer and closer.

It was all she could do to hold her position there, millimeters from kissing him.

There was a pause that felt like it went on forever before Tom’s voice sliced through the silence, yelling cut.

Immediately, Nicola moved her face away from Luke’s hand, letting go of him, and turned to face the crew.

The looks on their faces were on par with the looks she had received when she had first stepped out in full costume that morning: pure astonishment.

“That… that was the fucking take, pardon my French.” Tom laughed, bewildered. “Jesus, I don’t know what you guys channelled there but that was it.”

“Just… sublime.” Jack echoed, shaking his head in disbelief. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’d have been flayed alive for some of those steps at a real Regency era ball but for what this is meant to convey… just, wow.”

Nicola found herself chuckling, grateful for the hint of comic relief. She was almost too scared to look to her side, to catch Luke’s eyes. The whole thing made her ache. She was still working hard to keep the tears back.

“Get over here, you need to see yourselves because I don’t think you realise what you’ve just pulled off.” Tom enthused, ushering them over so that they were stood behind one of the monitors.

Their scene started to play out in front of them. Nicola saw a couple moving together in beautiful harmony, clearly infatuated with one another.

“I only wanted you guys to get into character before the wedding dance with everyone, but I think we need to get Jess’s eyeballs on this, see if we can put it in somewhere.” Tom lauded, watching with them. “Really, well done, you guys.”

“Wow, that’s amazing.” Luke spoke, his eyes on the screen, but his voice sounded strange.

“A one-take wonder!” Tom laughed. “Might be worth saving a clip of this in case this just ends up on the cutting room floor.”

Nicola thought about whether she would want a copy of something so real and raw, or whether this would be better off relegated to obscurity.

What would hurt her less?

She didn’t know.

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raspberry-beret · 11 months ago

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1240 - Eloise

#my post #capsule wardrobe #capsule #fashion #style #minimalism #minimalist wardrobe #minimalist fashion #white #yellow #red #purple #summer #regency #regency fashion

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dreamwritesimagines · 1 year ago

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Garden of Secrets [25] - Sweet Pea

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤

Thanks so much to @theskytraveler for helping me with the chapter!

Summary: Small gestures can be romantic.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of violence, slow burn.

Word Count: 3400

Series Masterlist

Surprisingly, there were no nightmares for the rest of the night. In fact, your sleep was uninterrupted until you woke up to the sound of the birds chirping, the warm sunlight spilling through the curtains. You heaved a sigh as you sat up in the bed, then stretched out, the knock on the door making you turn your head.

“Yes?”

The door opened and Paula stepped inside, then walked across the room to open the curtains.

“Good morning ma’am,” she said. “Did you sleep well?”

“Better than usual,” you said. “Is it breakfast time?”

“It is,” she said. “Mr. Bridgerton is already awake.”

You tilted your head. “Is he?”

“Yes, he was in the breakfast room when I saw him,” she said, pulling a gown out of your wardrobe. “This one for the day?”

You thought for a moment, then smiled.

“Yes thank you.”

It took you around half an hour to get ready, and you made your way down the hall to get to the breakfast room. As Paula had told you, Benedict was already there pacing in the room and he turned as soon as he saw you.

“Y/N.”

“Good morning,” you said, taking your seat and he stepped closer.

“Are you alright?”

“Why would I not be alright?” you asked, then looked up at the footman filling your teacup. “Thank you.”

“Ma’am.”

“Did you eat?” you asked Benedict and he shook his head.

“No— that’s not important,” he said and stole a look at the footmen. “Can we have the room?”

They walked out of the room immediately, and you grabbed a piece of toast while he took the seat near yours.

“Tell me what you need,” he said and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I mean I was going to say olive bread but I have it right here.”

“Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes and shot him a light hearted glare. “Benedict.”

“Does your wrist hurt?”

“I didn’t tell you all that just so that you could look at me with worry in your eyes as if I’m going to break down any moment,” you deadpanned, ripping the edge of the toast to pop it in your mouth. “And as I’ve said last night, I’m fine. Josie had it worse than I did—”

“It’s not a competition.”

You paused for a moment, then shrugged your shoulders.

“Either way,” you said. “If you’re going to be like this at tonight’s dinner, I’ll skip it entirely and you’ll have to watch Anthony and Lottie be in love all by yourself.”

“Y/N.”

“I’ll say I passed out, you can’t say it wouldn’t be belie—”

“Where is he now?” he cut you off impatiently, that fire burning in his blue eyes and you averted your gaze for a moment, then grabbed your cup to take a sip of your tea.

“Away.”

“But where?”

“I’m not telling you anything when you look like you’re going to find him to challenge him to a duel.”

“Duels are a matter of honor,” he said. “He has none. Trust me, I have other things in mind for him, had a couple of ideas last night.”

You tilted your head. “You didn’t sleep last night?”

“That’s not important,” he said. “Where is he?”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but you can’t kill my father.”

“Breaking every bone in his body doesn’t count as killing him,” he paused for a moment. “Although, the idea is tempting—”

“Benedict,” you said and he let out a bitter laugh.

“He deserves it.”

You heaved a sigh and turned to look at him better, reaching out to place your hand over his on the table.

“You know it better than everyone by now that I’m not the forgiving type,” you said. “But any contact with him is way more than what he deserves.”

He gritted his teeth, still deep in thought. “He needs to pay for what he did.”

“He needs to be forgotten actually,” you pointed out. “I’m not going to spare that prick any thought, neither should you.”

Your name left his lips in an exasperated sigh.

“You’re my wife,” he reminded you, making your heart skip a beat. “I love you, I can’t just let that—”

“Benedict, I’ve quite gotten used to you being around,” you cut him off, your cheeks burning. “So stop trying to find a way to not be around, like murder or maiming.”

“But—”

“He is miserable, and he’s going to stay and die miserable in that hellhole,” you insisted. “I promise you, he’s not even worth your anger, he’s nothing.”

He turned his hand under yours and lifted it to press a chaste kiss on your hand, his thumb caressing your wrist as he pulled back. For a moment you felt as if he could hear your heartbeat because of how fast it was, and a smile warmed your lips, that familiar fluttering appearing in your stomach once more.

“So,” you said. “Onto more pressing matters. Tonight’s dinner?”

He thought for a moment, then made a face.

“I just…” he trailed off, running a hand over his eyes. “Can we skip that?”

“Can we skip the dinner your mother is throwing to celebrate your best friend and your brother’s courtship?” you asked. “No. No we cannot.”

“You had a good idea there, if we said you passed out—”

“I was going to do that for my own benefit, not yours,” you said. “So no.”

“We’re married!”

“So?”

“So you’re supposed to be on my side,” he insisted and you clicked your tongue.

“Debatable,” you pointed out, trying to keep a straight face. “There are a bunch of married couples who stab each other in the back.”

“Like you, Brutus?”

“Kind of but look on the bright side,” you said. “At least I’m doing it to your face.”

“Oh much appreciated,” he said with a grin and you let a smile warm your face, then shrugged your shoulders.

“Of course,” you said as you took your tea cup to your lips. “I’m nothing if not considerate.”

Charlotte’s family was quite crowded and you knew it but all of them and the Bridgertons together in a room equaled absolute chaos. Lord and Lady Harlowe were very sweet, and you’d had the chance to have a small conversation with them before making your way to sit beside Eloise on the sofa.

“Well you look glum.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m delighted,” she said with a scowl on her face and you tilted your head, then stole a look at Charlotte who was talking to Daphne and Anthony. Colin and Benedict were already in a conversation by the corner of the room while the children ran around, Lady Bridgerton telling them to be careful. You reached out to touch her arm, then nodded at the door.

“Come on.”

“What?”

“Come on,” you said. “There’s still some time for dinner and you look like you’re in a need of some peace and quiet. Let’s go outside, they can call us in when the dinner is ready.”

“You don’t want to spend your time giving loving glances to your beloved, just like the rest of the people in this room?”

“My beloved is still not totally alright with the idea of Anthony and Charlotte, so I think I’ll leave him be,” you said and stood up. “He can handle himself. Let’s go.”

She huffed out but followed you out of the room and you both made your way downstairs, then stepped out of the house to go sit on the swings in the backyard. She looked behind her to make sure no one was watching you two, then turned to you.

“Will you tell my mother if I smoke?”

“Do I look like a person who tells people things?”

She scoffed a laugh, then took out a cigarette package to offer it to you, but you shook your head.

“No thank you.”

She put one between her lips, then lit it and exhaled the smoke.

“Don’t get me wrong,” she said. “I’m happy for Lottie and Anthony. I’ve spent my whole life thinking she would be a part of our family, just…”

“Through a different brother?” you asked and she let out a small laugh.

“Does it bother you?”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “Not at all.”

“As it shouldn’t. I mean we didn’t know Anthony and Lottie were in love obviously, and her and Benedict were close friends so we assumed…”

“You and the rest of the ton,” you said. “And me for a while.”

“You thought they were courting?”

“Both Lottie and Benedict said they weren’t, on different occasions,” you said. “I would have taken myself out of that picture immediately if they were, trust me.”

She nodded slowly.

“So it’s not a matter of her being a part of your family,” you said. “What is it then?”

She thought for a moment, then shook her head.

“I was supposed to have more time,” she said through her teeth, making you frown. “This whole season—first Benedict got married, now Daphne is getting married, Anthony will certainly marry Lottie within the season and…I’m next.”

“Not Colin?”

“Have you seen him around Marina?” she asked. “And it doesn’t matter. If it’s not her it’ll be someone else. I was supposed to have years and years and now it’s…it’s at my door.”

Oh that feeling was quite familiar.

You pressed your lips together, curling your fingers around the rope of the swing.

“And before you tell me what a bliss love and marriage are—”

“I’m not going to say that,” you said. “Or any of that nonsense.”

She turned to look at you better, a look of disbelief flashing over her face.

“I’m just going to ask you something,” you said. “And do correct me if I’m wrong because I’ve only been here for a little time but…your family doesn’t strike me as people to push you into a marriage you don’t want, am I wrong?”

She shook her head again.

“They wouldn’t do that,” she said. “But it doesn’t matter. They all want me to fall in love and get married.”

“I think they want you to be happy,” you said. “They just think falling in love and getting married is the only way of doing so, but considering your family and status, you do have the luxury of choosing your own path to happiness if you wish.”

She blinked a couple of times.

“And you are not going to wax poetic about how marriage is the best thing in the world?”

You scoffed a laugh. “That would be quite hypocritical of me, considering I spent my whole life hating the idea of marriage.”

She stared at you. “Really?”

“Oh yeah,” you said. “It was merely a threat for me, Damocles’ sword hanging over my head. The idea never held much of a promise.”

“It’s a nightmare for me.”

“I don’t blame you,” you pointed out. “But it’s a nightmare you won’t have to go through if you don’t wish to. Your family loves you too much to put you through anything you don’t want.”

“And when I debut next year?”

“I’ll teach you how to intimidate your suitors with a glare,” you said, making her let out a giggle. “I’m quite good at it.”

“Mm hm, I heard. The Ice Queen.”

“I’ll hand over the crown to you,” you joked and she licked her lips.

“So you changed your mind but you’re not going to give me that speech about…”

“How you’ll also change your mind once you are in love and all that nonsense?” you finished her question for her. “Think of love like catching cold, alright? Yes it could happen to anyone, but you could take some precautions to make sure it doesn’t happen to you.”

She stared at you before a laughter escaped from her lips. “You have the heart of a poet.”

“That’s so rude of you,” you deadpanned, then shot her a grin. “I understand why you’re worried, but I can assure you, nothing you don’t want will ever happen to you. Not with the family you have.”

She offered you a small smile and took a drag of her cigarette again before throwing the cigarette butt on the ground to step on it.

“And you and Benedict?” she asked. “How come you fell in love if you took precautions?”

You bit down on your lip, deep in thought.

“We just…” you trailed off and took a deep breath. “He took me by surprise.”

She shot you a look. “Easy as that?”

You nodded your head, running your nail over the rope of the swing.

“Yeah,” you muttered. “Contrary to what people seem to believe, it doesn’t have to be complicated all the time.”

“Ladies,” you heard a familiar voice that sent a warmth through your chest, and looked over your shoulder to see Benedict.

“Brother,” Eloise said. “Mama sent you?”

“I volunteered,” he said. “I figured you wouldn’t want her to see you smoke. Dinner is ready.”

Eloise heaved a sigh and stood up from the swing.

“Let’s celebrate people being in love,” she grumbled in a dramatic manner and made her way to the house with you following her. Benedict squeezed her shoulder in an assuring manner as she walked past him, and you winked at him.

“Are you going to be okay, tortured artist?”

“Ask me again at the end of tonight,” he muttered and you let out a laugh, then stepped back into the house.

The dinner was developing quite similarly to what your and Benedict’s engagement dinner was like. Everyone was happy, Anthony and Charlotte looked like they were barely aware of anyone else in the room, Lady Bridgerton, Lady Harlowe and Lord Harlowe in a deep conversation before Lord Harlowe turned to the couple.

“I did have a feeling,” he said, motioning at them and Charlotte’s jaw dropped.

“Did you papa?”

“Mm hm. For both of you.”

“Wait, me too?” Anthony asked and Lady Harlowe chuckled.

“You weren’t exactly subtle, Anthony.”

Anthony grinned and reached out to hold Charlotte’s hand over the table, making Benedict shake his head slightly.

“He was I think!” Lottie said. “I didn’t know about his feelings, and I thought he wouldn’t share mine.”

“How could I not, my love?” Anthony said and Benedict pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I will stab myself with this fork I swear to God…”

“Benny!”

“Stop it Benedict,” Daphne said. “I for one am glad Anthony has found love. It’s the most precious thing in the world after all.”

“You know,” you said. “Living with Benedict, I thought I developed an immunity for how strange people in love sound most of the time, but apparently not.”

Colin shot you a confused look. “You’re in love with Benedict.”

“Never remind me that ever again,” you deadpanned, making Benedict pat your arm as if trying to console you.

“Benny, you must be happy for me,” Lottie said. “The love of my life loves me back—”

“Charlie, I’m begging you not to call my brother that.”

“Benedict, I had to put up with those endless goddamn speeches of yours when you fell in love with your wife, did you forget about that? You once talked about how beautiful she is for over thirty minutes, and I know that because Colin was timing it.”

You tried to repress your smile and Colin nodded.

“Thirty-five minutes, to be exact.”

“And also, what am I supposed to call the love of my life, Benny?” Lottie asked and Benedict shrugged his shoulders.

“Acquaintance?”

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered. “See Benedict, this is exactly why people thought you two were in a courtship and no one except Lord and Lady Harlowe knew they were in love.”

“We weren’t—”

“Oh Y/N, please don’t think—”

“No no,” you waved your hands as a chorus of disagreement rose from the table. “Don’t worry about it, I know. Trust me, this—” you motioned at Benedict. “Would have been so much easier to understand if there was a courtship, just saying.”

“But there wasn’t, because I have been completely in love with Tony for years,” Lottie chirped and Anthony smiled at her fondly before leaning in to mutter something into her ear, making her giggle.

“Are you excited for your wedding, Daphne?” Lady Harlowe asked and she nodded.

“I am, Lady Harlowe,” she said. “And you are coming to the breakfast surely?”

“Oh we are, we wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“I might,” Eloise muttered and Lady Bridgerton gasped.

“Eloise!”

“What? It’s a possibility mama, who knows what might happen that day?”

“We will remind you of this when it’s your wedding breakfast dear,” Lady Harlowe said and you grinned at Eloise.

“I think Eloise will follow my lead when it comes to suitors once she debuts,” you said and Benedict tilted his head.

“Scaring the soul out of all of them?”

You nodded and Lord Harlowe chuckled before pointing between you two.

“All but one, apparently.”

You stole a look at Benedict, mirroring his smile and raised your glass slightly.

“Yeah,” you said. “All but one.”

The rest of the dinner went perfectly well and when you and Benedict returned home, the weather was still quite lovely, the sound of crickets and the water fountain reaching your ears, the warm wind caressing your skin. Benedict hid his yawn behind his hand as you looked up at the marble stairs leading up to the front door of the house, then turned to him.

“Tired?”

“Just a little,” he muttered. “I didn’t sleep last night, so…”

You paused for a moment.

“Right,” you said. “Of course. You must get some rest.”

“And you?”

“I think I’ll enjoy the fresh air some more before going to sleep,” you said. “It’s such a nice night.”

“Do you want some company?”

“Perhaps another night because I must insist that you go to sleep,” you said with a laugh. “Really. You look like you’re about to pass out and in case you forgot, that’s my thing.”

He chuckled, nodding his head before yawning again.

“Alright,” he said. “Good night then.”

“Good night,” you said and watched him climb the stairs before taking a deep breath. “And Benedict?”

He turned around to look at you. “Yes?”

“You know they will be happy together right?” you asked. “Anthony and Lottie?”

He smiled softly.

“Oh I know,” he said. “They’re so in love, I can’t believe I didn’t see that before.”

“I can’t believe that either,” you pointed out. “But you might want to tell Lottie you’re happy for them.”

Benedict grinned and nodded his head again.

“I did,” he said. “Right before we left. She knows.”

“Good.”

“I might take my time to tell Anthony though.”

“I’m behind that decision one hundred percent,” you said and he let out a laugh.

“I knew you would,” he said. “Sweet dreams.”

“You too,” you said and he walked into the house, leaving you in the garden. You heaved a sigh, then started making your way through the garden, enjoying the beautiful sight.

After passing by the roses, you leaned in to inhale the pleasant scent of sweet pea flowers, closing your eyes for a moment before opening them again. You ran your palm over them, looking down to see them better but as soon as you did, a four-leaf clover on the flower bed sticking out of the soil caught your eye, making you let out a chuckle.

“Well hello there,” you muttered as you reached down to rip it, then went back into the house.

You climbed up the stairs, but as soon as you reached the door to your room you paused, stealing a look at Benedict’s closed door. You nibbled on your lip, then threw your shoulders back and passed through the hallway to get to the door of his studio. It was dark aside from the moonlight spilling through the window and you stepped inside, careful not to bump into anything before approaching the small table which had his palette and a couple of his paints. You took a deep breath, then put the four-leaf clover on the table, stepping back to see it better, then frowned and stepped forward to put it on the palette, nodding to yourself once you were convinced it looked good.

A smile warmed your face and you bit on your nail, and left the studio to rush to your bedroom as if he could see you. You pressed a hand over your chest as you entered your room, then discarded your clothes as quickly as you could before you flung yourself on the bed to pull the pillow to your chest, a giddy giggle escaping from your lips.

Chapter 26

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #regency fic

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resplendentoutfit · 4 months ago

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Regency Era Accessories: The Chapeau

Hats were so important to a Regency woman's wardrobe that they are the only accessory that had its own fashion plates.

Just to note that I chose to use the French names for the various hats and fabrics. The term "poke bonnet" just doesn't have the same ring! Besides, I love everything French!

Left: An assortment of chapeaux de crépe and chapeaux de gros de Naples [fig. 3] • (Gros de Naples is a thick silk fabric. Here, it is inset with tulle and tied at the crown with a scarf.)

[fig. 2] "Chapeau de Crèpe” is made of a lighter-weight silk. The crown is less structured, due to the less sturdy fabric, but uses more flowers to fill in the shape. The chin ribbon is trimmed in lace and falls from the crown in a unique way. – via Regency World

Right: Various chapeaux and lace bonnets. (More about lace bonnets in another post)

Frederik Hendrik Kaemmerer • Afternoon Tea in the Garden • (Detail)

Right: Contemporary recreation of what looks like a Chapeau de Gros de Naples, lined, and abundantly decorated with flowers.

#fashion history #art history #painting #art #fine art #women's fashion history #regency hats #the chapeau #frederik hendrik kaemmerer #regency fashion #georgian fashion #the resplendent outfit blog #art & fashion history blog #regency fashion plates #jane austen era #bridgerton

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howthebestwaslost-blog · 4 months ago

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The Doctor trying to convince Rogue that the TARDIS wardrobe only has regency stuff sorry he can’t borrow a regular shirt -

#petition to keep the costume #actually make him wear it in real life #for the greater good #doctor who #timerogue #rogue doctor who #jonathan groff #doctorrogue #fifteenth doctor #bbc doctor who #x

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irisintheafterglow · 6 months ago

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HAND FIVE - STRAIGHT

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 death is dodged and a deal is made (again).

wc: 3.3k

cw/tags: royalty!au/regency!au, fem!reader, mentions of blood and injury, what are we? trope, hurt/comfort, swearing, mentions of eating and food, unabashed references to dbatc and fortnight by taylor swift, also keigo is here lol

note: i love injury/comfort prompts, that's all. hope you enjoy!

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated!

“Who was that?”

“No one you need to care about,” Touya assures you when he steps back into the carriage, but he catches the skeptical narrow of your eyes as you follow the receding top hat-wearing figure. There was never getting anything past you, he’d learned over the weeks of your fake courtship. “It’s just personal business that requires my attention.” You hum, unnaturally letting the conversation drop and turning your gaze back to the scenery outside the window. Against his better judgment, he decides to press your buttons further. “You’re not going to accuse me of nefarious activities, my lady?”

“I’m not sure of what you mean, Your Highness,” you state curtly, a nearly imperceptible amount of malice behind your words. He frowns, searching his recent memories for what could possibly be bothering you. Was it something he’d said? Did he beat you too badly at poker? Were you craving a snack from the market? He stares dumbly until you finally meet his eye and you carefully nod your head over to the side, toward the third occupant of the carriage. Oh, shit. Right, he’s here too.

“Please don’t feel the need to censor yourself for my sake, my lady,” the handsome, blonde airhead that was Prince Keigo Takami says politely while Touya fights the urge to groan. As the other crown prince of the nearest neighboring kingdom, Keigo had tormented Touya’s existence for an annoyingly large part of his life. He visited annually in his signature scarlet coats with gilded birds of prey embroidered on the sleeves, a stark contrast to Touya’s wardrobe of blue and silver. To his further irritation, your maroon day dress and satin gloves matched with Keigo’s color scheme and drew a harsh contrast between the two benches in the carriage. “Though, I do appreciate you sitting next to me for the trip to the market district. You are a better conversation partner than your suitor, if I may be blunt.” The smile you give Keigo is fake, he knows, but it still makes him nauseous to see you laughing with someone other than him.

“It’s easy to imagine how this ride would have progressed if I were not here,” you chuckle and the prince next to you beams. Touya sticks his tongue out in disgust when Keigo is preoccupied looking out the window and you shoot him a stern look, making him click his tongue and cross his arms defensively over his chest. “The modiste that I visit for my nicer dresses is just down that street,” you point out, returning your attention to Keigo. “If Lady Rumi requires a dress for the end-of-season ball, she will be more than satisfied with the Yaoyorozu family’s work.”

“I will pass word along,” Keigo affirms. “Have you decided what you will wear for the end-of-season ball?” You shake your head, examining a stray thread sticking out from your gloves and not looking anywhere near the other occupant of the carriage.

“Most likely a dress similar to this one. The beading on this bodice is my favorite, but I may need a different color since I wore red last year.”

“I believe blue would be a wonderful color for you, if I may,” Keigo offers and you nod, the stiffening of your posture almost too subtle for Touya to catch. Blue was always Touya’s color, the same way red was Keigo’s. “Wouldn’t you agree, Touya?” Asshole. You blink at him expectantly and he clears his throat for an excuse to stop looking at you.

“Wear what you want,” he mumbles eventually, his words directed at the window beside him instead of you. “I don’t care.” A part of him dies from being so cold to you; but, if his indifference bothers you, you’re a master at hiding it. Prince Keigo, however, draws his mouth into a taut line in something akin to disappointment.

“Forgive him for his cold demeanor,” Keigo amends, giving you an apologetic smile. “He’s been nauseous in carriage rides since we were children. It must be making him more irritable than usual.”

“The only thing irritable about this carriage ride is you, Keigo,” Touya mutters with his eyes closed, his forehead pressed against the glass. He must’ve been in hell, the way Keigo was trying to silently implore him to say something and how you were wearing red, of all colors to wear. Red? Were you fucking kidding? “And, that obnoxious shade on your clothes,” he adds. You bark out a laugh that lacks any amount of humor, nothing like the warmth you’d shown Keigo. You were certainly angry at him.

“I’m honored you find this shade so deplorable, Your Highness, since it belonged to my grandmother.” You huff an emotional breath with a hand over your heart. “May her soul rest in peace.” Touya’s face is lit on fire and he checks his watch in a futile attempt to make time go faster. Keigo manages to conjure up a few stunned apologies, but you end up sitting with the two princes for the rest of the ride in silence.

Your dramatic sadness was feigned, of course. Truthfully, the dress was just a gift from your father for your birthday the previous year. Your grandmother had left you nothing but old shoes at her passing when you were barely fourteen, but Touya didn’t need to know that.

You wanted to bother him, make him angry, and push him to his emotional limits just as he was testing yours. He was exceedingly frustrating lately, blurring the lines between fake affection and genuine romantic gestures so often, it left your head spinning. Every time you thought you had a grasp on where his mind was strategically, he’d turn around and look at you so lovingly that your knees would weaken. The feelings slowly making themselves known were becoming impossible to ignore, and you settled for re-discovering your dislike for Touya to combat them.

And, obviously, he’d taken notice.

“You’re upset with me,” he mutters next to you, quiet enough so that no one in the square could eavesdrop. Prince Keigo was away for the time being, looking through swatches of fabric that could be used for the palace’s new curtains. “I want to know why.”

“What gives you such an impression?”

“You’re refusing to look at me, for starters,” he grits out. You abruptly turn on your heel and move to the next stall, selling winter wear and other warm clothes. A dark blue cloak catches your eye and you run your fingers over the ruched velvet. It was beautifully made and gave you an excuse to continue ignoring the prince. “Do you like it? You can have it,” he says from over your shoulder, gesturing for a nearby servant to pay the vendor. Before currency can be exchanged, you shake your head, giving the seller your thanks before leaving. The prince’s patience was sure to be running short now, and you glance at the clocktower for an estimate on how much longer you had to endure this. When you’re about to find a new hiding spot, an all-too-familiar hand grips your wrist and you’re dragged into a nearby alley between two buildings. The prince’s arm comes up to block you in, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The prince is close enough that you can see where the skin of his scars draw jagged lines across his face.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He all but spits the word and you refuse to back down from his glare. “You think you can just ignore me and get away with it? You think you can just back out of our deal?”

“I never said I was backing out of anything,” you snarl. “Maybe, I just want you to leave me alone for a single moment!”

“I am your prince,” he hisses.

“And I am to be your intended within a fortnight, only for you to leave me like none of the exchanges we shared mattered in the slightest. Let me deal with that how I will,” you demand and shove his arm out of your way, storming into the marketplace and disappearing among the crowd. You hear him call out your name but you don’t dare respond, an odd feeling akin to grief starting to stir in your chest. You catch the faintest blur of movement running along the walkways between the four towers surrounding the square–

And barely dodge the arrow aimed directly for your liver.

The marketplace descends into chaos within seconds as another barrage of arrows fires in your direction and you duck behind a stand as it falls, frantic customers running about like ants trapped in a jar. You pull your legs close and spot a growing patch of red dripping from your skirt and cringe when you see the gash cutting into the right side of your calf. You must have caught it on something while you were running, or a stray arrow grazed it during the first wave. From what you could tell, there were probably three or four assailants, all armed with bows and shooting in your direction. You silently prayed that Touya was still alive, however much you wanted to strangle him yourself. Boots skid to a stop in front of you and you’re ready to fight the attacker off with a nearby shard of stained glass, but relax when Keigo’s worried face appears in front of you.

“Shit, there you are. I saw you storm off right before the attack started and figured Touya said something stupid again,” he says, his relief evident. “Are you hurt?”

“There’s a wound on my leg,” you inform him with a wince, pulling up your skirt and fighting back a wave of nausea when you see how much blood is gushing from it. “I don’t–I don’t think I should be losing…”

“That much blood, I know,” Keigo finishes, holding out his hand and tugging you out from under the table. With a hand around your waist, he guides you back into the dark alley, away from the screaming crowd, unrelenting streams of arrows, and the sudden smell of something burning. “Stay here, I’ll send Touya to come get you.”

“But–”

“No buts. He’s going to kill me if something happens to you, so just stay here. Okay?” You nod and back further into the alley, an airy feeling growing in your mind that was making it hard to think. You register Keigo running back out into the conflict, but don’t remember how you ended up slumped against the wall or how long you stayed there until Touya tore his way through the darkness. The airiness in your head was concerning, now, but something in your head said that sleeping it off would make it go away. The prince didn’t think so.

“You gotta stay with me,” you hear him plead, his body crouched in front of you and his face inches from yours. Something was bright and vividly blue behind him in the square, waving like a clothesline in a hurricane. Fire? “If you go to sleep, that’s going to ruin many, many things for me.”

“I’m bleeding out and the only thing you can think of is yourself,” you murmur, blinking slowly. The dry skin of his palms meet your cheek as he gently holds your face upright, his burning stare wrought with concern. “Typical.”

“The only thing I’m thinking of right now is you, dumbass,” he snaps, glancing up and down the alley. “I need to move you. I have a safe house a few blocks down from here. If we go now–”

“I can’t,” you tell him in a broken whisper and his face falls. “It hurts too much to walk.”

“I’ll carry you. I don’t care how far or for how long, I just need to get you somewhere safe.” Desperation starts to leak into his voice and, if you weren’t on the verge of passing out, you would tease him. “Wrap your arm around my shoulder because we have to go, now.” You have no choice but to obey him as his arms slip under your legs and back, and you stifle a cry into your fist when a blinding spike of pain throbs in your calf.

“Touya, it hurts,” you groan against his chest. “It really fucking hurts.”

“I know it does. Just hold out for a little longer and I’ll stop the bleeding, I promise. You’re going to be okay.” The dark alleys of the market district become a blur of bricks and broken windows, ultimately fading into darkness as Touya’s voice becomes distant.

–

You wake with a start in an unfamiliar bed and register the dull pain in your calf, now carefully wrapped in thick gauze. It was dark and you could vaguely make out silhouettes of furniture in dim candlelight. You were in an attic of some sorts, your bed shoved against a slanted wall and facing a large circular window that overlooked the city. A small sofa, a set of drawers, and a desk were haphazardly strewn across the remaining space, and a surprisingly soft rug hits your feet when you swing your legs over the edge of the bed. Before you can stand, a square cutout in the floor pops up and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t relieved to see who opened the hatch.

“What the hell are you doing sitting up? You should be resting,” Touya commands, hurriedly setting down a tray of food and rushing to your side. Without meeting your eyes, he kneels in front of you as you open your mouth to argue, but the words die on your tongue when he gingerly takes your calf in his hands. “The bleeding stopped, thankfully, but you need to be careful not to open your stitches.”

“You gave me stitches?”

“No, a friend did. She’s good with needles and better with blood than I am,” he replies absentmindedly, still turning your leg over in his palms. He rotates the limb a little too far to the side and you inhale through your teeth, flinching away as far as you could go. “Shit, sorry.” He stands abruptly and retrieves the tray of food from the floor near the hatch, setting it on an empty spot on the bed before sitting down himself. “Are you hungry? You need to eat something, and drink water, and probably rest some more–”

“Touya,” you insist, grabbing his hand as it shakily rearranged various small plates of food. He finally looks at you and you’re met with an expression you’ve never seen on his stupidly handsome face. The prince looked…scared. “Just give me a second to process things, please.”

“You need to heal,” he protests. “I will take care of you.”

“You can, if you tell me where I am right now,” you state and he exhales out of his mouth, considering you a moment longer before setting the tray in your lap. “I’ll eat, but I need you to explain to me what happened.” He watches you take a few small bites from your fork before answering, like he was still afraid you’d deny him the opportunity to dote on you.

“We were attacked. Assassination attempt on my life. You just happened to be in the crossfire,” he scowls. “I’m sorry you were hurt because of me.” The silence in the attic as you eat is palpable. “And…I’m sorry for whatever I did to make you angry.” Your mouth quirks into the tiniest smile, but it’s again devoid of any real humor.

“You still don’t understand what you’ve been doing?” He was wracking his brain again, trying to figure out what he’d done, but no answer occurred to him.

“I don’t, but I do feel remorse that I’ve upset you,” he admits, hoping you’d put him out of his misery and just tell him what he did wrong so he could fix it. He wanted to fix your sad smile the same way he’d fixed your leg, but something in him was saying that what you were feeling wasn’t simply physical. “If we’re going to finish the deal–”

“That’s why I’m upset,” you interject and he pauses. How could you be mad about the deal when you’d been so agreeable only a few weeks ago? “I can’t say I enjoy how this agreement has been progressing.”

“What have I done to upset you?”

“What haven’t you done should be your question,” you mutter almost imperceptibly. Touya exhales deeply again, this time through his nose. At least you were feeling strong enough to talk back. “You really don’t understand what your intimacy has been insinuating?” He freezes. Were you implying what he thought you were implying?

“I don’t know what you mean,” he forces out. If you developed feelings for him, that wasn’t his fault. He was going to leave, after all, so he’d be out of your life soon enough. Perhaps, though, that wasn’t what you wanted. Nonetheless you shake your head, a clear signal he was losing you again. “Please, tell me what you mean,” he says in an attempt to regain your attention. You pause, eyes staring off at the blanket covering your lower body.

“You look at me fondly as if I were a friend,” you explain quietly. “Sometimes, I’m foolish enough to believe I am one; yet, it feels like a small cut every time I realize that it is all for show.”

“And how many cuts do you have now?” How many times had he hurt you?

“Too many to count,” you say and something in his chest twists like a maid wringing a towel. He’d been selfish, truthfully. He liked your attention, how you rolled your eyes and were quick to debate him on any topic under the sun. It didn’t occur to him, though, how the blurry line between business and friendship affected you.

“I don’t know what you want me to do.” The look you give him is akin to his royal tutor hitting him on the head with a rolled up scroll.

“Do you care for me, Touya?” He nods carefully, trying to predict your angle. “Are you being genuine?”

“I have every reason to lie to you, but on this I am true.”

“I am not just a business transaction to you?”

“The furthest from it.” You seem to accept this and the tiniest weight leaves his shoulders, but the aura of unhappiness that you radiate still remains. “What would you have me do to prove that I care for you?”

A pause, two shaky breaths.

“Let me in. Allow me to be your friend, if only for the fortnight until you propose.” There was a sadness in your request that he couldn’t place, but he finds himself agreeing without hesitation. Despite the masquerade ball of liars and fakes he’d been trained to deceive in the palace, a part of him longed to be seen by someone for how he really is. The only question now asked how much danger he was unwillingly putting you in.

For the time being, he stored the concern in the back of his mind, relishing in the feeling of your hand slipping into the rough calluses in his palm. Whether you reached out first or he did, it didn’t matter. The touch felt different, something shifting in the air as he ran his thumb over your knuckles. You’d set down your utensil and found the side of his face, brushing your fingers over the mottled scars on his cheeks. What an odd ache, he thought to himself as he replayed the memory back in his mind while you slept again. He didn’t understand the feeling until a few hours later, when he returned you home and you were out of his sight.

For the first time in years, Touya Todoroki felt seen.

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