#the viscount x reader

[imthebadguyyy]

the bridgerton blues

pairing : anthony bridgerton x reader

fandom : bridgerton

synopsis : it's the first time after your wedding that anthony sees you sporting the signature bridgerton colour : blue, and it does things to him that he can only express in a much more....physical manner.

warnings : smut, heavy smut and excessive amount of fluff

a/n : i miss my grumpy viscount!!! happy reading :)

anthony huffed impatiently, foot tapping against the marble floor at bridgerton manor.

the season had begun again, and much to his relief, he would only be a spectator this year, having married the love of his life, lady, well, current viscountess y/n, which meant he didn't have to deal with the frills and fancies of the hawk like mama's in the ton, awaiting the right moment to swoop upon him with their daughters.

but by God, you were taking forever to get dressed and come down to leave for lady danbury's ball. beside him, benedict and colin sat, engrossed in a game of chess, while francesca and eloise lounged on the couch in the drawing room, catching up about life.

his mother was with his darling wife, much to his surprise, helping her get ready for a ball. he had been caught off guard when his mother had bustled in, dressed in a powdery blue gown, and had proceeded to shoo him out of the room.

"what exactly is keeping mama and y/n?" colin asked, brow furrowed in concentration as he focused on the chess board.

"if I knew I would tell you brother" anthony mumbled, checking the watch that hung on the golden chain from his waistcoat, smiling as he traced the cover, suddenly hit by a burst of nostalgia, and a surge of fondness for his late father.

he brushed it off when a giggling hyacinth came running down the staircase, leaping into his arms, forcing him to rush to catch her, eyes widening in surprise.

"hyacinth! you must always give me a prior warning or I may not be able to catch you" he chided, tucking a stray curl behind her ear and setting her gently on the ground.

"brother!! wait till you see y/n/n!! she looks like a princess!" his youngest sister exclaimed, almost vibrating with excitement. a shy gregory emerged, blushing a little as he nodded, making the three older bridgerton boys smirk, well aware of his little crush on anthony's wife.

when anthony had first befriended his wife, they had been at a mere age of ten, and anthony had rescued y/n when she had fallen off her horse at a picnic with his family and the cowper's.

ever since then, they had been inseparable, joint at the hip and at the heart.

it was of no surprise to anyone in the ton when finally, ages later, he had announced he was marrying the lady montgomery, or as everyone fondly knew her, "y/n/n"

"why so bashful greg?" benedict jested, watching his youngest brother turn a dark crimson.

"n-nothing" he stuttered out, darting in to see his sisters.

"it's because of y/n! I'm telling you brother, she looks like an absolute angel!" hyacinth chirped in, now bouncing about from step to step, just as the door of Anthony's room creaked open, and the dowager viscountess stepped out.

"she's ready" she smiled warmly at her son's, hurrying in to get her daughters to mark the momentous occasion.

brows furrowed, the eyes of the bridgertons rested upon the long winding staircase, awaiting to see what exactly was this magical outfit that had their mother and sister gushing like birds.

and what anthony saw, made his jaw drop to the very ground.

at the very top, his darling wife came into view, hair in sleek, meticulous curls, perfectly cast up in an intricate updo, adorned with pearls, framing her face with the delicate curls. her makeup was subtle, emphasizing her flowing complexion with a touch of rosy blush and wine coloured lips.

she adorned a pearl necklace and matching earrings, gifted to her by anthony himself, adding a timeless elegance to her stature.

but what really caught everyones attention was the dress that she wore, more specifically, the colour of the dress she wore.

a rich dark blue silk gown, carefully tailored, hugged her frame, showcasing the intricate details that add to its allure. the bodice, adorned with delicate embroidery, depicting subtle butterfly motifs that caught the light as the she moved down the stairs. the neckline gracefully framed her collarbone, delicate lace butterflies attached to the neckline,while the sleeves tapered down to her wrists, showcasing more of the exquisite lacework that adorned her body.

the skirt of the gown was a masterpiece of craftsmanship, flowing generously in layers of silk that rustled with each step. the deep, rich hue of the fabric evoked a sense of opulence, reminiscent of midnight skies. as she walked down, the silk caught the light, casting a mesmerizing play of shadows and highlights.

the dress matched anthony's waistcoat perfectly, and the sight was enough to make the viscount choke over nothing.

as he saw his wife adorned in the resplendent dress for the first time, his eyes widened with genuine admiration.

a hushed gasp escaped his parted lips as he took in the sight before him.

his wife, cloaked in the elegance of the dark blue gown, the bridgerton blues appeared to be like a living portrait of timeless beauty.

a warm smile formed on his lips, expressing both surprise and deep appreciation for the grace and sophistication she was emanating.

"my darling" he murmured as he swept forward, extending his arm to welcome you into them.

smiling sweetly at the bridgerton clan, you floated down, linking your arm with anthony's.

"sister, you look utterly perfect in blue!" benedict exclaimed, pressing a delicate kiss to your hand, as violet fondly caressed your cheek.

"doesn't she look like a princess brother?!" hyacinth squealed, looking excitedly at anthony. "just like one out of the fairytales" he said, looking at you with nothing but admiration and love and fondness.

"you really do look utterly regal" colin said, flashing a warm smile at you. eloise and francesca came upto you, with even eloise admitting that the dress you were wearing was nothing short of a work of art, while francesca gushed over how the silhouette was so perfect for you.

"alright, we must leave if we want to reach lady danbury's ball on time!" violet said, clapping her hands, leading her children out to where the carriages awaited.

"wait behind for just a second my love" anthony whispered into your ear, as he walked up to his valet to whisper something into his ear.

slowly, the other bridgertons departed, after you promised them to join them very soon, ignoring the smirks and nudges colin and benedict sent your way.

anthony pulled you into his study, hand gently caressing your waist, feeling the rich silk in his hands, the other hand gently reaching for your chin, lifting it to look into your eyes.

"you look utterly divine my beloved" he whispered fingers gently fondling your face, eyes absorbing every detail of your face, not that he hadn't already memorised it.

"thank you my dear" you whispered back, hands settling on his broad shoulders, taking in his waistcoat as well, the dark blue velvet clinging to every rippling muscle in his body, brass buttons complementing the coat.

"i always knew you'd look stunning in bridgerton blue but....it seems as though the bridgerton blue was crafted for you" he murmured, tightening his grip on your waist, "so stunning that infact, i do not feel the need to leave for lady danbury's ball, for I'd much rather stay here with my breathtakingly beautiful wife" he murmured again, lips ghosting over your own as his hands squeezed your waist, drawing you flush against his body.

"my lord, we cannot... we must be present at the first ball of the season" you lamely protested, heart hammering against your chest as the intoxicating scent of his musky, woodsy cologne filled your nostrils.

anthony dropped his lips to your neck, lips brushing a feather soft kiss to the sensitive skin, drawing a gasp from you.

"what if we do not go? what if we just stay here and...i worship my wife in the way she deserves? like the goddess she is?" he asked, like gently pressing kisses down to your collarbone, still as light as a feather, just enough to ignite something feral in you, but also enough to keep you wanting more.

"my lord it's the first ball of the season, and we have to-"

you were cut off by anthony's lips pressing against yours.

they were soft and plush against yours, pressing perfectly like a jigsaw puzzle, initiating a warm glow in the pit of your tummy.

as your lips met, the sensation was like a feather's gentle caress — soft, fleeting, and subtly warm. it feels like a delicate dance, a tender exploration that sparked a gentle flutter within you. the touch was akin to the brush of downy feathers, teasing and inviting, as if he was testing the waters of intimacy.

yet, as the moment unfolded, a magnetic pull takes hold, drawing you deeper into the realm of passion. the softness transforms, gradually intensifying into a fiery connection. the initial delicacy gave way to a fervent exchange, each kiss building upon the other with a growing hunger.

your lips, once feather-light, were now engaged in a rhythmic and passionate dance. the subtle warmth amplified into a blazing fire, and what began as a gentle exploration evolved into a fervent expression of desire.

the world around you faded and in that heightened connection, every kiss becomes an electric charge, a testament to the undeniable chemistry between your two souls entwined in the artistry of passion.

anthony's hands ran rampant on your body, clutching every part of your body through the silk dress, yet taking care to not scrunch the silk in anyway.

"you have no idea what you do me darling" he growled against your lips, drawing back for just a moment to watch your chest heave and eyes glaze over, hands clutching his coat and cravat so tight he feared you would rip it off.

"every breath you take, every word you speak, the very sound of your melodious voice and the very beat of your heart, all allure me to you, draw me to you like a moth to a flame" he continued, his own heart hammering against his chest.

his chest rose and fell with every word, eyes ablaze with burning passion. "every second of every day, i crave you, i long for you, i need you, and it drives me feral. but the sight of you in my colour makes me want to rip off that very dress off your body, claiming you as mine in more ways than one" he growled, hands scrunching the material on your behind.

"anthony..i crave you every second of the day as well. i need you" you whispered, a soft whimper slipping past your lips.

"hush my sweet darling" he said, sending you a saccharine sweet smile.

then, much to your chagrin, he took his hands off your waist, fixing the material and fixing his own coat.

"now, we must hasten to lady danbury's" he smirked" and you groaned, a painful throbbing between your legs becoming more prominent.

"but my lord-" you protested, only to be cut off by another searing kiss. he kissed you deep and long, and then drew back, pushing a stray curl on your forehead back behind your ear.

"our family awaits dearest" he smiled, and gently led you out to the hall.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

the grand ballroom at lady danbury's unfolded into a dazzling spectacle as it embraced the opulence of a gold and maroon theme. golden hues enveloped the space, casting a warm, regal glow. glittering chandeliers, adorned with intricate gold details, hung from the ceiling, their crystals refracting light in a dance of elegance.

luxurious maroon fabrics draped the walls, creating a sumptuous backdrop that added depth to the golden ambiance. tables adorned with golden tablecloths and maroon accents contributed to the harmonious blend of colors. golden candle holders flickered with the soft glow of candles, casting a gentle radiance on the rich maroon floral centerpieces.

the women's dresses shimmered with embellishments, and the men's attire featured accents, creating a visual symphony of sophistication, into which you walked with anthony, arms interlaced, as you bowed before queen charlotte, who had taken quite a liking to you.

"it's lovely to see the bridgertons led by a couple as magnanimous as you" she bestowed a rare compliment, bringing a hot flush to your cheeks and even to anthony's pale visage. "but now we anxiously await the news of a young bridgerton" she said pointedly, and you kept your eyes low, trying to ignore the heat blooming in your cheek.

around you, guests were engaged in a dance, the dance floor became a stage for a waltz of colors, with the many colours and tones reflecting in the mirrored walls. the orchestra, bathed in the warm ambiance, played melodies that echoed the richness of the color palette.

you noticed simon and daphne dancing, looking fondly at each other, and saw colin sharing a dance with young penelope featherington, which made you smile, always having harbored a soft spot for the girl.

you spotted eloise by the food table, with francesca, both enjoying the strawberries that were being served. benedict seemed engrossed in exploring the rich collection of paintings in the hall, and was surrounded by a group of friends.

anthony led you over to his sisters, a soft kiss to your wrist a promise to be back in a moment lingering on his lips, as he was dragged off by countless lords for a drink and a conversation about the next round of a hunt they were engaging in.

as eloise began to speak about the many cruelties of lady featherington, you spotted cressida cowper scowling over at the two of you, dressed in a pink so bright you felt momentarily blinded. she shot a contemptuous look at you, scoffing at your gown and sharing a laugh with lady cowper, that had your eyebrow creasing with insecurity.

much to your horror, she began to march over to you, along with her mother and lady featherington, much to your dismay. you searched desperately for your mother-in-law, but found her engrossed in conversation with the queen.

"my my, if it isn't the happy bridgertons" cressida sniped, flashing you a tight lipped smile. "hello miss cowper" you smiled, ignoring the anxiety bubbling in your tummy.

"cressida" eloise said coldly, linking her arm with yours. she was well aware of the contemptuous rumours she had spread about you when you had begun courting anthony and had made it her mission to protect you from her.

"what a rather unusual colour for you dear" lady cowper commented, eyes trailing down your body in disdain.

"it gives you the impression of being a little washed out" she stated, opening her fan to hide her smirk.

you ignored the tear that sprang to your eyes as she continued to comment, on the fall of the dress, the shape of the silhouette and the way your jewellery was far too showy.

you could feel eloise glowering beside you but silently begged her to keep calm, not wanting to lose her calm in front of everyone.

to your surprise, a familiar baritone cut in, a nd a strong arm wrapped around your midriff and waist.

your husband appeared beside you, a smile on his face that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"i see why you might think that, lady cowper, for all you can pull off is that rather obnoxious shade of viscous pink, and while i understand your envy at my wife's ability to outshine everyone else here in any colour she chooses, i must remind you are speaking to the viscountess bridgerton, and hence must adhere to the degree respect she commands" he stated coolly, hand gripping your waist so tight you were sure it would leave marks.

stunned speechless, the cowper's backed away, egos more than bruised and enraged , subject to sniggers and chuckles from the other lords and ladies in the room. your brother walked to anthony from across the hall, patting him on the back and whispering a "good man" to him as he hugged you, and eloise drew anthony into a hug as well.

anthony led the two of you over to his mama, who couldn't hide a smile herself at the love her son had for his wife, so reminiscent of the way their father had loved her.

"I am sorry if I caused humiliation to your name mama, but I cannot and will not let anyone talk to my wife that way" he said firmly, only to be cut off by his mother.

"I believe everyone here has been waiting to say that to miss cowper since the beginning of time, my darling, so take your wife and go home. you have done your job and proved your love and passion and told everyone that your relationship rhymes true" she said, drawing you into a warm hug and bidding you goodbye.

the carriage ride home was silent as your held anthony's hand tight, his thumb tracing patterns over the gloves you were donning, a pearly white to match your jewels.

"thank you my love" you whispered to him, eyes glimmering with unshed tears.

"my darling, i love you, all of you. please do not ever belittle yourself, because your beauty is awe worthy" he said, eyes contorted as if he was in pain at the thought of you being in pain.

"I'll try my best not to" you whispered against, leaning forward to press your foreheads together. and you stayed like that till bridgerton manor came into view.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

frenzied kisses were pressed against your lips as anthony lifted you into his arms, earning a singular gasp from your lips. his hands, one wrapped tightly under your bottom and the other around your back was strong, as you wrapped your legs around his waist and he led you upstairs, ignoring the scurrying valet and maids and your ladies in waiting as he made it to your shared bedroom.

he dropped you gently on the bed, towering above you, hands shoving the material of your dress up. his hands crept along your thighs stealthily, finding the hooks of your stockings to your thigh garter, slowly dragging it down, exposing your bare skin to him, suppressing a groan at the soft skin.

to his surprise you reached up and grabbed him by the cravat, untying it and pulling him down to meet your lips. you kissed him roughly, a frenzied battle, with teeth and tongue clashing as he shrugged off his waist coat and began to unbutton his shirt, watching as you removed your jewellery and kept in on the table beside his bed.

his hands reached for your dress, carefully untying the many laces and unbuttoning the many buttons on your dress, watching as your bosom heaved in the corset wore.

deft fingers unhooked the corset without a struggle, and you moaned when the cold air hit your nipples, making them harden, as you pushed your chest out towards him.

anthony growled, the sound reverberating in his throat as he reached down to unbutton his tan pants, leaving him in just his underwear. his lips attacked your neck, biting into the delicate flesh and pressing kiss after kiss, sucking deep marks and hickies that were sure to stay for days after.

you raked your nails up and down his neck, stroking the skin there and raking your hands upto his hair, gently scratching his scalp as he trailed kisses down to your breasts.

his mouth enveloped your nipple in his mouth, tongue flicking and swirling around the sensitive nub.

he continued his ministrations, taking only a moment to move his mouth to your other breast and leaving lovebites on the skin.

he settled in between your thoughts, hips gently grinding into yours, as he licked and sucked to his heart’s desire, attempting to alleviate the growing tent in his pants.

you were beginning to pant, and he continued to pinch and stroke your nipple. his tongue wreaked havoc on one while his fingers gently tugged on the other. anthony could not wait any longer, the pain of the straining in his pants making him more loopy than he would admit, and he pulled away from your breast, a string of saliva from his lips to your breast.

he came back up to your mouth, kissing you with desperation. "i adore you" he painted above you, before kissing down your tummy to your thighs.

he stopped at the junction between your thighs, inhaling the musk of your scent.  

he reached for the cotton underwear you had on, gently pulling it down, and pushing your thighs apart, and a wave of cold air floated across your inner thighs, so open and exposed now.

anthony began to press hot, open mouthed kisses to the bare expanse of your thighs, stopping just below your pussy lips each time.

mere moments later, you felt an entirely new sensation— anthony's wet, warm tongue sliding through your folds. a cry of pleasure ripped from your throat, as you looked down at anthony, who had crawled between your legs with his tongue buried at the apex of your thighs.

your slick dripped down your pussy lips, costing them in your honey, and anthony licked it all up as if it was nectar and ambrosia, lowering his face to lick a long strip through your entire slit, before tilting his face even deeper into your pussy, swirling around up to your engorged clit and licking all around it and on the top of it.

the action had your hips jolting as he sucked on the nub, causing flashes of white to flash before your eyes.

"you taste more delightful than i could ever have imagined" he breathed licking the sour-sweet liquid off his lips. "my own precious honey pot" he cooed, making you flush again and your body heated up.

he sucked harder on your clit, fingers slipping into your slit to slide up and down, each stroking made your hips flail wildly.

“you taste so sweet” he murmurs, and the brush of his breath sears against your skin. the low rumbling of his voice, so characteristic of him, are dripped in hunger and arousal, the heat spreading under your skin and threatening to explode like a supernova.

"i have longed to have you squirming on my tongue my love. i will have you screaming my name until your lips know no other" he promised.

with a ravenous look at your heaving form, anthony lowered his mouth to your throbbing center again and licked a bold stripe up your clit, the sensitive bud jolting in shock and you scream in pleasure,

the ever composed lord bridgerton moans against your cunt when you tug his hair, hands holding down your hips as he watches you squirm. then anthony rolls your clit with his teeth and you come apart with a scream, hands gripping onto his hair for dear life.

you come, cunt clenching down, spasming around his tongue where he has you stretched open. everything else disappears for a moment, your body weightless with pure unadulterated bliss.

anthony shifts so he is in between your legs again, watching the fluttering of your pussy as you clench around nothing. your eyes are trained on his hips and he feels a surge of pride.

his cock was one not only of great size but of greater girth and greater skill, and he adored nothing more than watching your eyes become as large as saucers as you looked at his poor cock straining again as it had been ever since he saw you in his signature colour.

trained hands guided his cock to your entrance, tapping against it for a few seconds before he dragged the tip through your slick, making your body shudder at the stimulation. and then, he pressed a kiss to your neck, hips slamming against yours.

the first thrust was deep and claiming,and you cried out at the perfect stretch of him in your pussy.

you could barely think straight, hands digging into his back and nails sinking into his skin.

"so fucking perfect,” he murmured into your ear, rasped and breathless as he nipped on your ear. "'feel so good wrapped around my cock. so wet and warm for me my sweet sweet beloved. fuck, you're so tight right now. squeezing me so well, you love my cock, do you not my angel?"

"yes yes i love you and your cock" you changed as a prayer, eyes bashful at the use of the dirty word. "look at how your cunt clenches around me" he groaned, head dipping into the crook of your neck as his hips slammed into yours repeatedly.

you could hear the headboard banging against the wall as the pace of anthony's thrusts had your body sliding against the silken sheets.

and then he stopped

he stayed there, buried inside you to the hilt, and his cock twitched excitedly inside you. you watched the way he gripped the bedsheets tightly with his fingers until they went hite. it sent heat and pleasure into the pit of your stomach and you were sure you are going to burn. it was far too good, far too much, brimming on the edge of being overwhelming. 

there’s no warning as he pulled out, leaving his pulsing tip in, and then he thrusted all the way back inside, in one long and slick stroke back inside you, deep and rough. his cock slammed into a spot in you that has you screaming, something absolutely fucking delicious and it steals away your breath and makes you cry out. 

and then he grabs your legs, pushing them up towards your legs as he almost folded you in half, pushing your legs so far apart they almost touched your head, as he moved to his knees for a better angle.

his hips thrusted wildly as he kept fucking you, hand rubbing furiously at your sensitive clit, as you whined and moaned and screamed. he watched as your cunt, pink and perfect fluttered and twitched, and his ears revelled at the sound of the filthy, wet squelching that echoed in the room from your dripping cunt.

he landed a harsh smack to the back of your thigh that had you screaming as he then pressed his tongue to it, sucking a hickey on the spot.

sweat dripped down his forehead and yours, as you began to thrust your hips up to meet his perfect strokes, while feeling like his cock was going to split you apart.

"i want nothing more than to fill you with my seed" he growled, over the sound of your skin slapping together over and over again.

"fill me with your seed my lord. let me have carry your kin" you murmured, and you watched as anthony groaned, hand wrapping around your throat.

"such a minx" he grinned, squeezing and watching your eyes roll back.

without a warning, he flipped you over so you were on top, and his deft hands steadied you at the waist.

then he began to slowly pick your hips up, working you up and down on his cock, slamming you up and down on his cock, until you got the hang of it.

anthony felt himself drooling as he took in the way your tits bounced and you bounced on his cock as you ride him, nails now scratching down his chest as he laid a harsh spank to your ass that had you clenching on his cock harder.

he watched your body desperately ride him for all he was worth, thighs jiggling as they clapped against his own, and he pinched the fat around your waist and belly, teeth nipping at your nipple to increase the stimulation.

"m-my lord! I am going to cum!" you moaned loudly, only to turn to a wail as anthony's fingers unleashed a furious assault on your clit, as he rubbed it up and down and side to side and everywhere, covering his fingers in your slick.

with a scream of his name, you came all over his dick and his tummy, your juices spilling out of you like a fountain, watching as he scooped it up with his fingers to lick it clean.

he slammed your hips down on his even harder as you whined, and you felt his stomach tense and breathing stutter as he came, shooting his load inside you, and finally sinking into the pillow, limp.

panting, you rolled off of him, mind cockdrunk and unable to move. anthony peppered kisses to your skin and kissed the spots where he'd been rough.

"you were phenomenal, my love" he whispered, and to your intrigue, his fingers trialed down to your cunt.

you watched as he gently slid a finger in to your hole, shushing and kissing you as he blocked it with his fingers.

"i cannot have a single drop of me spilling out of you" he murmured and you moaned.

"i adore you", he mumbled, "my dear wife" he concluded.

"and i adore you, my dear husband" you smiled, meeting his lips in a sugar sweet kiss.

who would've known that wearing the bridgerton blue was all it would take for you and anthony to announce to the ton in the next three months that you were expecting the first bridgerton heir?

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n : I've missed writing for bridgerton so much!! i really hope you enjoy this, and as always likes reblogs comments opinions etc are appreciated!! sending u all love and happiness and remember, my inbox is always open and i love making new friends!! happy reading ☺️♥️

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[captainsophiestark]

Don't Believe Everything You Read

Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2024!

Fandom: Bridgerton

Day Three Prompt: "I know you better."

Summary: A wannabe Whistledown is posting some awful rumors, but luckily for Anthony, his wife knows him well enough that she doesn't believe them.

Word Count: 1,247

Category: Angst, Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I sighed, tightening my hands on the book I was reading and trying to refocus on the words. I'd been having a nice, peaceful morning in Bridgerton house (a truly rare feat) until Eloise and Benedict had started some commotion near the door to the sitting room.

I'd married Anthony almost a year ago now, but I still hadn't learned how to block out his siblings quite as well as he did.

I managed to finish another paragraph before the commotion at the door distracted me again. I glanced at the pair out of the corner of my eye, and found them having a whispered argument, both glancing in my direction every few moments. I sighed. The rest of my story would have to wait until later.

Slowly and quietly, so as not to draw too much attention from the Bridgertons by the door, I makred my page in my book and set it down on the couch. I stood, drifting over toward Eloise and Benedict. Eloise had something in her hand, and it seemed to be the genesis of hers and Benedict's hushed argument. I got a little closer and recognized the shape and style of a scandal sheet.

Eloise and Benedict had gotten steadily more heated in their argument, and when Eloise flailed the paper in my direction, I snatched it out of her hand.

She and Benedict both whirled in my direction, but I'd made it halfway across the room before either of them got a chance to take the paper back.

"Don't read that!" Benedict shouted, chasing after me.

"You have a right to read it, but you might want a bit of a heads up first-"

I cut Eloise off by darting well out of their reach and reading one of the headlines of the scandal sheet.

Viscount Bridgerton Stepping Out On His New Wife?

I snorted and rolled my eyes. I quickly scanned the rest of the article, which went on to talk sensationally about all these rumors surrounding Anthony and a mysterious new mistress. Not a word of it was believable, of course, and at least one of the reports of Anthony strolling at night with a strange woman was just me, wearing new clothes the rest of the Ton hadn't seen yet. I barely made it to the end of the article before I started laughing.

I looked up to find Eloise and Benedict looking at me warily. I just shook my head.

"This is certainly no Lady Whistledown, is it?" The pair raised their eyebrows at me, still tensed like they were worried the laughter would turn to tears. I rolled my eyes. "Oh please, both of you. I know Anthony, I know this is ridiculous. Clearly whoever's writing this nonsense has too much free time on their hands. Or maybe not enough, since they couldn't come up with anything more realistic than this."

"So... you're not upset?" asked Eloise.

"No, El, I'm not. I know the man I married. This," I waved the paper around in my hand, "is just funny."

She and Benedict let out massive sighs as one.

"Well, that's certainly a relief," said Benedict. "I suppose Eloise and I were getting worked up for nothing."

"And likewise, you interrupted my reading for nothing," I said. "You're welcome to stay if you're quiet, but otherwise, I appreciate the laugh, but would appreciate more the return of my peaceful reading space."

"You have chosen the sitting room as your peaceful space," Benedict said. "That might not offer you the highest chance of remaining undisturbed."

"You make a fair point, but you also seemed to want to keep this scandal sheet from me completely, so I think today I can kick you out."

"Fair enough. Eloise?"

"I was supposed to meet Penelope before I found the scandal sheet with the mail. I'm already a bit late," she said with a wave over her shoulder as she headed out of the room. Benedict gave me a teasing bow, then followed his sister out of the room.

I sighed, then settled back in to my original place on the couch. I made it through another few pages before the door of the sitting room went flying open, the door making a loud bang as it slammed into the wall. I jumped and whirled around to find Anthony, looking like an absolute mess as he crossed the room in just a few strides before sliding to his knees before me. His hair stuck up at all angles and his clothes looked disheveled. He took my hands in his and started speaking before I could get a word out.

"My love, it's not true. Not a word of it. I love you, you must know that. I would absolutely never, ever go behind your back, would never even dream of spending time with anyone else-"

"Anthony, my god! Take a breath, what are you talking about?"

"I saw Eloise. She told me you'd read the scandal sheet sent out this morning. But you must know, it was a lie."

"Did you happen to wait for Eloise to tell you my reaction before you raced in here?"

"No. I worried... I didn't want to waste a moment before speaking with you. I promise, I would never do that to you. There's no one else and there never will be-"

"I know! Anthony, believe me, I know." I slid to the ground along with him, chest to chest as I kept his hands held tight in mine. "You think I'd believe some ridiculous wannabe Whistledown telling me you're a cheater? I know you better. I know you best. I know you would never do that to me, that I can trust you, no matter what. Even if Whistledown herself had reported it, I wouldn't have believed a word."

"...Truly?"

"Absolutely! We're rock solid, Anthony. I honestly wouldn't have married you if I didn't trust you."

He sighed, all the tension easing from his body as he slumped forward, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his head on my shoulder.

"I cannot tell you how relieved I am to hear that."

"I'm glad we got your worry cleared up quickly," I said. "Although, if you had paused to talk to Eloise for another moment, she could've told you I started laughing the minute I read those ridiculous reports."

Anthony picked his head up to look at me, pulling me closer to him as he did.

"I'm much happier to have heard it from you directly. Especially since it means I can do this."

He leaned in, a grin on his face, and kissed me. I ran my hands up his back and into his hair, but pulled away after just a moment. Anthony moved to follow me, but I put a hand on his chest to stop him.

"Anthony, we are in the sitting room! Anyone could walk in on us at any moment."

"Good. Then they'll know the rumors are just that, and that nothing could ever come between the two of us."

"Anthony."

"Fine. This is an easy fix as well."

With that, he stood, picking me up and carrying me out of the room. I laughed, not even bothering to mention my book that now lay forgotten on the sofa. Anthony and I had other plans for the rest of our morning, it seemed, and I couldn't say I minded them. Anthony and I were happier than I ever thought we could be, and nothing was going to interfere with that, especially not some ridiculous gossip rag.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

Bridgerton Taglist: @cherrybb-ily

[m4tthewmurd0ck]

JUST A WOMAN

featuring *THAT* speech by florence pugh in little women, iykyk

── Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

as with all other reader x character stories, no use of y/n but i do use she / her. no descriptors other than reader being shorter than anthony. jonathan bailey is 5’11” so do with that info what you will. reader has brothers, number unspecified

ALSO atlas carrington is just a name i made up. you’ll find out who i’ve cast for him when i post the full story heheheh

When Anthony learns that you are being courted by Atlas Carrington, he’s equal parts furious and panicked. For as long as he’s known you, you’ve always spoken of your freedom. How you wish to spend your days however you’d like to, but mostly that you detested the idea of marriage.

You’d tell him it wasn’t the idea of falling in love that terrified you, rather it was what marriage meant. Above all else, you didn’t want to be controlled.

So why, then, are you allowing yourself to be courted by who he considers to be one of the most horrid men in all of London?

rewatching season 2 of bridgerton for everyone’s favorite viscount 🥰 in the middle of the last episode, will work on finishing this once i’m done watching!

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[taevjim]

Marrying the Viscount (m)

18+

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

𝓢𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓪𝓵 𝓽𝓸: Romancing the Viscount (m)

𝓟𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰: Viscount! Jungkook x Viscountess! female reader

𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓻𝓮: romance, angst (maybe?), smut

𝓢𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: You had finally found your place in society, not only succeeding from the challenge of being asked for your hand, but from none other than a Viscount. In your mind, you were ready for a husband the moment you were let out into society, but now that you had the very thing you've dreamed of since you were a girl, right at your fingertips, you weren't sure if you knew where you stood in life at the moment. Would you live happily ever after, or would the pressure of being a Viscountess be too much for you to handle?

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

It had been a full week since Jungkook had asked for your hand in marriage and you were ecstatic, to say the least. Although you were probably one of the happiest women of the ton, not only securing a man, but a Viscount, you still couldn't help the way your eyes wandered as you walked through the street. You were constantly wondering what people were saying of you, wondering if you could live up to the status of Jungkook, if you could get used to all eyes being on you at all times.

Of course you've confronted Jungkook with your troublesome thoughts and you admired the way he never failed at coaxing you with kind words, and reminding you of your worth. You had to admit, his words managed to put you at ease but it never lasted too long before you were back to overthinking, allowing your thoughts to consume your mind, almost taunting you every second of the day. It was torture.

The thoughts in your head tormented you relentlessly and with Jungkook trying his hardest to not only be the Viscount everyone so loved and adored, you didn't want to put the pressure of your doubts onto his shoulders as it might become too much for him to handle.

You've seemingly been accepted with open arms by Jungkook's absolute lovely family. The excitement on their faces warmed your heart once he announced your unexpected engagement before them, only minutes after the two of you devilishly committed such sin in his carriage the night of the first season's ball. You've spent so much time in your life feeling sorry for yourself and wondering what you could've been doing wrong, all the while the Viscount had his eyes set on you all along.

The success you've longed for since you were a child was right before your eyes, right at the edge of your fingertips, yet it was still a bit difficult to accept the reality before you. To become wed to the Viscount, it meant more responsibilities piled onto your shoulders. Not only the responsibilities of being Jungkook's wife, but the responsibilities of becoming the Viscountess that this wedding would embark upon you.

In no way were you doubting the marriage, or doubting Jungkook. You love Jungkook with the entirety of your heart and you were practically itching for the wedding to get here so you could call him your husband. However, the doubt you had in yourself was beginning to weigh you down and the fear of drowning becoming a challenge you were afraid to face.

You currently sat at Jungkook's desk as you write in your journal, spilling your emotions out onto the pages as if they could listen to you and speak back. Writing had become a small part of your life in the past week, you deciding it would be best for you to write your thoughts down, instead of bombarding Jungkook with the trouble.

Glancing up at the clock, you sigh as you realize he still wasn't home. He had gone out for a bit of a hunting trip with the other Lords, all while his mother decided to take his two sisters shopping. She invited you to come along with them, which you politely declined, telling her you had some work to catch up on. In truth, you've been a bit skittish to step foot out in public without Jungkook by your side. He made you feel protected and secure with his presence, a presence you were undoubtedly addicted to.

Perhaps you were being a bit selfish choosing to lock yourself in his chambers as you cry to yourself on the pages of a journal. You had everything you've ever wanted, even more so than what you originally expected, and it seemed as though you still weren't happy. You've never really been faced with these type of hardships in your life, not while there was love involved, at-least.

You close your journal, deciding you were tired of pitying yourself for the day, and you stand to head out into town. You knew Jungkook's mother was probably at the modiste with her two daughters, for their debuts were coming up very soon and she needed to get them prepared for the time to come. You figured you would meet them there, suddenly feeling a little foolish for declining the invite of your presence.

The walk to the modiste was very quick, since it wasn't but only a block down the street. Besides, the weather was exceptionally nice today so you didn't mind and you needed the fresh air anyway.

"Oh my dear y/n, I'm so pleased to see you!" Jungkook's mother pleasantly greets you as you walk into the stop, wasting no time to rush over and land a kiss on your cheek.

You smile and slightly bow before following her over into the fitting room where her oldest daughter, Liliana, stood before the mirror. She was wearing an exceptionally elegant gown, a contagious smile on her face as she scanned over the fabric.

"It's beautiful," you compliment as you enter, earning an appreciative smile in return.

"Please, please come sit." Jungkook's mother rushes you over and sits you down on the sofa next to her, "Anna is up next. I think you'll absolutely love what she picked."

Jungkook's mother was always such a pleasure to be around. Although you've only known her a short time, you've never seen her with a sour face. You could tell she completely adored her children and raised them to the best of her ability. You felt complete admiration towards the woman as you watched the way she interacted with the two girls. They were incredibly lucky to have such a caring mother.

"Ohhh that is very pretty," you gush as Anna steps up onto the platform, giving a slight twirl to show off the gorgeous piece of clothing. She claps her hands in excitement, obviously very pleased with Madam Claire's work. She was a very talented modiste, after all.

Your future mother-in-law turns to you, capturing your hands into her own all while flashing you a beautiful smile, "I also have a surprise for you, my dear." Your eyebrows raise slightly at her confession and you turn to see Claire carrying a breathtaking burgundy colored gown into the room.

The color was so pleasing to the eye, making it difficult for you to move your gaze elsewhere. The bodice was a lacey material with a few crystals scattered about the surface, paired with mesh fabric sleeves that hung off the shoulders, and a slimming cotton skirt that cascaded down to the floor. For a moment you were speechless, completely taken off guard that Jungkook's mother would make such a kind gesture to have a gown made for you.

You turn to her, shock and appreciation written across your face. "Mrs. Jeon, this is for me?" you ask.

She lets out a small laugh and carefully reaches over to move a piece of hair from your face. "You are my future daughter-in-law," she states, "You mean so much to my son which means you mean a lot to me as well and you make him very happy. I wanted to show you some appreciation for being so wonderful."

Her words almost make you tear up and then you begin to feel awful for not coming along when she invited you out this morning. You were too busy moping about your, now, perfect life. In that very moment, you decided it was time for you to stop thinking of all the negatives regarding your future wedding, and start appreciating the positives.

"You are such an amazing woman, Ms. Jeon. Thank you." You slightly squeeze her hands that were still resting in your own and she quickly pats your shoulder, urging for you to stand.

"What are you waiting for?" she asks, "I want to see you try it on."

You didn't need to be told twice. You quickly spring to your feet and step up onto the platform, allowing Claire to help you change into the dress.

The dress was already stunning on it's own, but once you saw it on yourself, you couldn't believe a piece of clothing could make you feel and look so desirable. It fit like a glove and your heart warmed once again when you realized how thoughtful it was for Jungkook's mother to make sure she got your measurements perfectly without you noticing.

"Breathtaking," she claps her hands enthusiastically, clearly proud of herself for gifting you such a perfect gown.

"Now," she announces, standing to her feet, "We should start getting ready for tonight's ball."

Once the four of you exit the modiste and start the short walk back to the Jeon house, you begin making small conversation with Mrs. Jeon.

"Were you ever nervous?" you question, "About becoming Viscountess, I mean."

The corners of her lips upturn in the slightest way at your question, almost as if she was expecting for the two of you to speak about the subject at some point. She lets out a small sigh and hooks her arm through yours as you stroll.

"Of course I was nervous," she starts, "I didn't come from a wealthy family and it was quite difficult for me to make it into society. It took four seasons before I married and I was undoubtedly very discouraged."

Your eyes slightly widen at her statement. She was admittedly a gorgeous woman, probably more so in her younger years, so the thought of her having such trouble finding a husband was quite hard for you to believe.

"I can tell you're nervous," she continues, "But I don't want you to allow those feelings to overcome you too terribly. You will become an astounding Viscountess."

You feel reassured at her words, but you would be lying if you said the statement completely washed all of your worries away. However, you didn't feel alone. Learning that Mrs. Jeon struggled in society just like you have, comforted you in a way. It may have taken her four seasons to find a husband, but she married a Viscount and not only became an amazing Viscountess, but an extraordinary mother and woman.

"What troubles you?" she asks as she notices you staring off into the distance. You didn't want to dump all of your feelings onto her at once, but you realized she was the only one you were close to that understood the challenges that you were facing.

"I'm afraid," you admit, "I feel as though I've been looked down upon for so much of my life and I don't want to mess up. Truthfully, I don't know what I am doing."

You notice as the two of you arrive in front of the house and watch as Liliana and Anna rush inside, likely going to greet their brother, who should be home by now. You loiter behind with Mrs. Jeon and follow to sit beside her at a bench in front of the square.

"Honey, it's okay to not know what you are doing. How can anyone expect you to? Everything is new to you and I understand how overwhelming you must be feeling with your current situation. Jungkook will never fail you, nor will I. Don't be afraid to come and talk to one of us when it begins to feel too much, otherwise you'll suffocate from your own feelings." She caresses the back of your head as she speaks, and her words cause a wave of comfort to crash over your body.

"You're right," you admit. You smile at the woman before you, slightly leaning in closer to her touch. Having a mother figure in your life was proving to be very solacing, as you were ripped from that opportunity at a very young age.

"You know, when I married Jungkook's father, I had thoughts of leaving him." Her confession vaguely shocks you, not being prepared for those words to leave her lips. She slightly chuckles at your reaction, but continues speaking.

"I never thought I was good enough to be blessed with such a nobleman, much less to become a Viscountess. I struggled greatly in the beginning and I was ashamed to feel such a way, but I realized he needed me just as much as I needed him and I realized that he chose me for a reason. He saw things in me that I failed to see in myself and with his partnership and his love, I was able to become the woman that I currently am." Her touching words bring a tear to your eye and being the loving, yet caring woman she is, she reaches over to wipe it away before it falls.

"My son chose you for a reason," she says, "And I wholeheartedly trust his judgement that he has made an exceptional choice. It's okay to feel the things that you do, but I hope you can learn to put those feelings at bay before they consume your entire being."

You don't respond, partly because you don't really know what to say, but also because you can't trust that you can utter a single word without bursting to tears into her arms. She was probably the strongest woman you've met thus far and you wanted to make her proud.

"I hope you realize how much this talk truly means to me." Your words come out in a whisper, and once again she smiles at you with such adoration behind her eyes.

"I see the woman that you are and I know for certain you will make this family proud. You need not worry for how people will look at you, or what some may say as you walk by. You have a Viscount and not many can say that. You also have a pure soul and an impenetrable character. Promise me that you will come to me if you ever need anything." Her eyes sparkle so subtly as she utters such touching words, proving to you she truly meant what she was telling you.

You nod at her request and she plants a tender kiss upon your cheek before gently pulling you to stand from the bench. "Now let's go find my son and see what he's been up to."

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The next couple days pass by in a blur, for all you could think about was your wedding. It was only three days away and although you were still quite nervous, the happiness you felt in your heart outweighed all the negative feelings you've had the past week or so.

Jungkook knew how you were feeling and he couldn't blame you for the emotions you've dealt with. He knew it was hard for you and he did an exceptional job at helping you any way he could, in fact, the two of you never really stayed home too much. Every day, almost the same time on the dot, you watched his carriage pull up in front of your home, ready to take you on whatever adventure had called on your names.

He had taken you to a number of places , whether it be out of town to some of the most popular theaters in neighboring cities, or a simple walk to the park so the two of you can read together and share your ideas on what lies in the next chapters to come. You had come to the conclusion a long time ago that he was a great man, but knowing him the way you did now made you fall more in love as the days pass.

You sit in the bay window of your home, a book in hand as you read the passages in front of you, occasionally giggling at something ridiculous one of the fictional characters said. You had plans to get a head start, as it was a book Jungkook had picked for both of you to read; you of course wanting to get further into the story before he did. It became almost a challenge between the two of you to see how many chapters the other could read before your next outing. It was a little childish, really.

The sounds of horses approaching draws your attention away from the pages and you look down to see Jungkook hop out of the carriage, immediately focusing his gaze upon you. A smile graces your lips and you hop up with an urgency, practically running downstairs so you could greet your fiancé.

Dana shakes her head, a playful smile across her face as she witnesses the pure puppy love you and the Viscount had shared. When you had broken the news to her that you were to be married, she was over the moon for you, the purest form of joy took over her as she had embraced you in a loving hug.

"I knew it would be your season. All that worrying you did for no reason," she had whispered to you that night, pulling you to sit with her so you could tell her all about it. You didn't spare the details either, trusting that you could tell Dana all about the time you had shared with the Viscount and not have to worry of her judging you.

"Please don't slip!" she calls after you as you dart down the stairs.

You don't waste a single second as you approach the front door and swing it open to reveal the most handsome man before you, the man you would soon get to call your husband.

His face lights up as he sees you and he pulls you into a comforting embrace, planting his pillowy soft lips upon yours in a quick kiss. "Are you ready?" he asks as he pulls away and scans your attire from head to toe.

Dana had styled your hair in a casual but classy updo, making sure to allow a few hairs to fall from the sides so they could frame your face in the most appealing manner. Your body was also adorned in a pretty pale green dress, one of your favorites of your collection as you adored the way it fit your body so snug, yet still allowing you great comfort.

Jungkook struggled to take his eyes off you, almost not believing that he finally had you after years of yearning for the woman that you are. He almost groaned at the way you looked up at him through your beautifully dark lashes, the look in your eyes almost challenging him to pounce on you right then and there. It was becoming much harder for him to control himself around you these days and most of his thoughts were consumed with the day you'll finally be married, so that he didn't have to hold himself back during such circumstances.

You say a quick farewell to Dana and hook your arm through Jungkook's so he can lead you towards his carriage. The two of you had made a quick trip back to his house, where he decides the plans for today would consist of a horse ride to the fields and a picnic.

You were practically buzzing with excitement, not having been able to ride in quite some time. In truth, you had been practically itching to get out into fresh air and enjoy the beautiful nature of the season. It warmed your heart to know how thoughtful Jungkook was to remember all the things you were interested in, doing everything he could to see your smile. It also felt nice to know you would be having some much needed alone time with the man, as the two of you hadn't had much luck for such an opportunity the last couple days.

The weather was perfect, the sky a captivating color of blue, and the breeze so subtle that your skin yearned for more of the feeling. You and Jungkook were sat under a tree, occasionally feeding each other the various fruits and sandwiches he had packed for the two of you.

You had giggled at a thought that suddenly ran across your mind and you pick up a singular grape, slightly scooting back a couple inches. "Open," you playfully demand.

He just chuckles at your obvious giddiness and opens his mouth, watching as you ready yourself to make the shot. You accidentally overthrow the small fruit, causing it to bounce off of his nose and land in the grass. Within seconds, you've fallen over onto your side, a fit of giggles escaping from your belly.

"Oh you think it's funny?" he questions, playfully offended that you would laugh about pelting him in the face with a fruit.

He rises to his knees and scoots closer to you to begin attacking your sides with his fingers, attracting more high-pitched giggles from your body. He begins to chuckle himself, watching as you squirm under his touch, only stopping when he deems his punishment was enough. You rise back into a sitting position, slightly breathing heavily as you make the conscious decision to pick up another grape and throw it at him.

This time it bounces off his forehead and you quickly stand to your feet and take off across the field, knowing he was most likely right behind you, chasing you down.

"Get back here, you little brat!" You hear him right behind you and you let out a squeal, attempting to pick your feet up faster.

"Nooo! You stay away!" You squeal again, refusing to look behind you because you knew he was right on your heels.

Before you know it, you feel his grip on your wrist and your foot slightly catches the bottom of your dress, causing the two of you to tumble into the grass. You're back to giggling furiously as his fingers attack your midsection once again, punishing you for your childish actions.

"This is what you wanted huh? You wanted me to punish you, didn't you?" he teases, his fingers in your sides not letting up, causing numerous high-pitched squeals to launch from your throat.

"Okay okay I'm sorry!" you accept defeat and he stops torturing you, not yet moving from his position atop of your figure.

You lay there under his weight, breathing as if you've just run a marathon and you look up at him. The playful gleam in his eyes is gone and replaced with a look of desire as he analyzes your features. Half of your hair has made it's way out of the pins that were meant to hold it together, and the strands lay displayed across the grass around your head. Your cheeks a deep pink, from all of the running and laughing you've done. Your lips were rid of the gloss you once wore from the many kisses Jungkook has stolen from you throughout your picnic date.

His eyes jump back and forth between your own, soon slowly making their way down to your chest. It rose and fell, as you lay out of breath, and he can't help but notice the way the tops of your breasts just barely spilled over the edge of your bodice. You were a sight for sore eyes and he could look at you for hours, never becoming bored.

He can't resist the urge to kiss you, so he leans down to mold his mouth onto your own. He can taste the strawberries you've consumed only moments prior, urging him to kiss you deeper as he chases more of the taste on your tongue. Immediately, you can feel pure heat flood down to your core, a whimper softly rolling off of your tongue and onto his own. He could feel his control slowly beginning to slip from his grasp, which causes him to slowly pull away from you before the thought of taking you right here in the field consumes him.

You let out a low whine, slightly disappointed that he was no longer touching you the way you craved. He reluctantly stands to his feet and outstretches a rather large hand into your direction, aiding you to stand on your own feet as well. The silence between the two of you was entirely too loud and the tension was a thick presence in the contrasting light breeze that rolled through the air.

Once you both make your way back over to the tree, the two of you begin to pack up your belongings. You catch sight of a couple grapes scattered across the grass and you can't stop the giggle that releases from the confinements of your throat. He lets out a chuckle of his own and shakes his head.

"You are going to be the death of me, y/n." The sound of your name rolling off of his tongue causes a blush to rise to your cheeks. He takes a step closer to you, carefully removing a leaf that had been stuck in your hair before he shoves it in your face to tickle the tip of your nose. You giggle at his actions and swat his hand away.

"Well you better get ready, Mr. Viscount because soon you will be stuck with me for the rest of your life," you teasingly stick your tongue at him and he quickly scoops you up into his arms, the sound of your giggles blessing his ears once again.

With a quick spin and loving kiss pressed to your lips, he sets you atop of the horse and pats your thigh over the material of your dress.

"I sure hope so," he says, a smile stretched across his pretty face, "I wouldn't ever dream of having it any other way."

He grabs your hand and raises it to his lips to place a soft kiss upon your skin before retreating to hop up onto his own horse so the two of you can make the short journey back to Jeon house.

As you ride back, taking in the beautiful flowers that stretch across the field and watch as the rabbits hop around the plush, green grass, you turn to see Jungkook's eyes already upon you. In that moment, you realize you've never been more happy and you couldn't wait for what the future had in store for you.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The day of your wedding was upon you and you were proud to say you didn't have an ounce of nervousness in your body. All of the negative feelings you once harbored inside of you had seemed to vanish, as if they were never there to begin with. The only feeling you had now was one of excitement. You had been dreaming of this day for years since you were just a girl, and now it was finally here, almost whispering into your ear that you deserved this. You deserved to be successful and marry a high ranking nobleman who accepts you as you are, not wishing to change a thing about you.

You were in love, and although just two weeks ago you had only spoken to the Viscount for the first time ever, you wouldn't dare change a single thing about the day you met. You may not have spoken to each other until that day but the two of you longed for each other in silence for years prior, making this very moment even more sweet and victorious for you both.

You stood in the fitting room of the modiste, just staring at yourself for only a few moments which felt like a lifetime. You just couldn't believe the sight before you. The sight before you being the very reflection of yourself, sporting your dream wedding gown, realizing that there was no possible way it could've ever looked more perfect.

Your dress was quite poofy compared to the style you usually wore and the detail that danced down the fabric of your skirt was certainly difficult to look away from, the train becoming your favorite part of the dress as it stretched out a couple feet behind you. You went with quite wide mesh sleeves that hung off the shoulder, which left plenty of room between your skin and the material. The bodice was a similar material of the skirt with even more detail and crystals that were embedded to the fabric.

Claire and Jungkook's mother were both staring at you in awe as they stood to the side and locked hands with each other, seemingly proud of the sight before them. You really didn't know what to say, your words stuck in the pit of your gut, not able to make their way up to the barrier of your lips.

"This dress," Mrs. Jeon breathes out, "It was absolutely made for you, darling."

You shoot an appreciative smile in her direction, trying your very hardest not to start crying. You didn't want to ruin your makeup before you were able to get married.

"It's everything I've ever dreamed of wearing on my wedding day," you finally find the words to speak. You then turn to Claire and clutch your hands to your chest, "You have made a dream come true for me. I don't know how I could possibly thank you enough."

She comes over to stand next to you, a prideful smile stretched across her glossy lips. "How about you thank me by marrying that man and becoming the Viscountess that you were born to be."

You quickly embrace her in a hug and place a heavy kiss upon her cheek before pulling away.

"Oh!" she exclaims, "One more thing."

She suddenly disappears around the corner before emerging once more with a veil held between her fingers.

"If you are to be married, we certainly can't forget this," she says before sliding the clip into your hair and positioning the material in it's rightful place. She then circles around to stand in front of you, carefully pulling two strands of your hair from behind your shoulders to place over each side of your chest.

"Perfect."

Now you really looked like a bride and if you had to admit, this was a reality you could see yourself getting used to rather quickly.

Once you've deemed yourself ready, you step off of the platform and stand before Mrs. Jeon. "I would especially like to thank you," you start, "For being there for not only myself, but your son as well. I can tell that he adores you with every fiber in his body and i wholeheartedly trust his judgement that he's made an exceptional choice with making you my mother-in-law."

You utter the same words as she spoke to you that day outside of her home. Her heart melts at the realization and she pulls you into a comforting hug. "Thank you, dearest, for showing me another reason why I'm thankful to not have let my emotions get the best of me all those years ago."

She pulls away slightly, her hands now resting on your shoulders as she tenderly kisses your cheek. "Now," she announces, "I believe we have a wedding to get to."

The three of you quickly exit the shop, Claire deciding to close down for the day so she can be there for your special moment, and you all hop into the carriage that awaits for you outside.

The whole way to the church, the two women are messing with the fabric of your dress, moving a few pieces there and a few pieces here. You could tell they wanted this day to be just as perfect as you did and you couldn't have been more thankful.

As you arrive, you could feel your nerves kicking into overdrive, the urge to fidget with your fingers getting the best of you. Your feelings go unnoticed by Mrs. Jeon and she reaches over to rest a warm hand atop of yours, stopping your nervous tendencies.

"Everything will be okay," she whispers, "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere." Her words manage to sooth you and you take a deep breath, nodding your head. Her and Claire both help you out of the carriage, immediately making sure everything was in place before they gave the signal that you were ready.

Since you had no male relatives, you had made a request upon your engagement to have Jungkook's mother walk you down the isle. Of course she accepted, had feeling honored that you would assign her with such a special task. You had become so close to her now that you really couldn't picture it being anyone else to hand you off to her son.

Claire sneakily makes her way inside the church before you so she can get situated before the doors were to be opened.

Mrs. Jeon holds her arm out to you, to which you don't hesitate to take and hook your fingers into the crease of her elbow. She sends you yet another encouraging smile and you decide that you are ready.

The doors are suddenly opened for you and you remind yourself to breathe before the two of you begin your walk inside of the church. Any conversation that was had between your guests quickly silenced as you were revealed. The church was packed to the brim as no one wanted to miss the event of the Viscount becoming married and you quickly realized that all the looks of admiration were no longer aimed towards him, but towards you.

You shut your eyes for a quick moment, trying to stop them from nervously wandering, and as you open them again you are met with the site of your lovely Viscount standing at the alter. The look in his eyes was one of pure adoration, his graze not straying for a second, taking in all the glory of his future Viscountess.

As always, his tight-waisted skirt coat fit his figure to perfection and you had to prevent the whine that threatened to spill from your lips at the sight of him. You couldn't believe in mere moments you were to be his wife, the thought almost driving you insane.

You could feel everyone's eyes glued to you, impossible for anyone to look away. You looked like you had blossomed straight out of a fairytale from a storybook and you felt pride swell in your chest knowing that you had finally captured the eyes of the ton.

As you get to the end of the stretch, Mrs. Jeon places a soft kiss upon your cheek and hands you off to Jungkook, who reaches out to you immediately. You're finally standing face to face with him, his eyes wildly move across your face, completely starstruck at the beauty that stood before him. He's always thought you were beautiful, but seeing you in this moment was one he knew he surely would never forget as long as he lives.

The two of you can't take your eyes off of each other through the entirety of the service. It was as if the two of you were speaking a thousand words to one another all while your lips didn't move an inch. These were the moments you lived for. The moments where you could tell exactly what he was thinking, a single word not have been spoken.

You could feel his thumbs carefully tracing the smooth skin of the top of your hands, a touch so small that still managed to ignite a fire inside of you.

Soon, the words "You may kiss your bride." reaches your ears and Jungkook wastes no time pulling you in and locking his lips to yours in urgency. Everyone in the church cheers, standing to clap for you. The excitement that roars between the four walls of the church eggs you on to cup Jungkook's face, keeping his lips on yours for just a few moments more.

Finally, the two of you turn to the crowd and you can't help but notice the pure joy on everyone's faces as they now lay their eyes upon their Viscount and Viscountess.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Immediately after your wedding, Jungkook had his carriage ready to take the two of you to Italy for your honeymoon. You were thoroughly shocked, having wanted to go to Italy for so long, now you get to share the experience with your husband.

The journey was exceptionally long, but as you arrived in the streets of Venice, you couldn't take your eyes from the breathtakingly structured buildings scattered throughout the city.

Jungkook sits back in his seat, admiring how happy you looked. He thought it was adorable the way you pointed at something in passing with such excitement, urging him to look at what your sights had fallen upon. Venice was a gorgeous city undoubtedly, but as his eyes lingered over you, he couldn't imagine anything that was more gorgeous.

You've arrived at the hostel the two of you would be staying in and you stared up at the building in awe as you stepped out of the carriage. The weather felt much cooler against your skin and you shivered in delight, leaning your head back to breathe in the Italian air.

You both quickly make your way inside, Jungkook carrying both of your suitcases in either hand. He had refused to allow you to carry your own, so you trail behind him as you ascend up the staircase to the floor where your room would be.

The room was very spacious, already knowing that Jungkook most likely booked one of the best rooms they had. A king sized canopy bed sat to the left of the room against the wall, the bedposts extending so high, they almost reached the ceiling. A quite large bookshelf sat to the right of the room and your eyes trail up, taking in the rows and rows of books all the way up to the ceiling. There were also two chairs that sat on either side of the bookshelf and a lamp positioned in the middle, allowing a comforting setting to be able to sit and read a book. Lastly, an elegant patterned sofa sat against the wall straight ahead, next to a cherrywood desk.

The picture frames that covered the walls were photos that were taken of the city, each just as breathtaking as the other. You had never traveled as long as you've been alive, so you felt like a princess in such a wonderful location of the world. You were beyond grateful.

You don't notice that Jungkook had already set your things down, as you were too busy gawking at the beauty that was your shared bedroom for the week. Jungkook has traveled more times than he could count, so he was pretty accustomed to Italy by this point. He was more interested in looking at you, watching the way you made your way around the room, your eyes floating around the walls where different pictures of the city hung.

He slowly walks over to you, sliding his arms around your waist from behind. Your attention was no longer on the photos as you become focused on his touch. You close your eyes as he gently moves your hair from your shoulder, leaning down to press his warm lips against your skin. A sigh of relief escapes your lips and you bask in the feeling that was him.

His hands grip your hips, turning you around so that you now faced him. You had to look up at him due to the height difference and your arms take their place around his shoulders.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, his eyes not once leaving yours.

You feel your cheeks get hot at his compliment and he wastes no time, bringing a hand to rest on your neck before he leans down to capture your lips into a kiss. His kisses were always so soft, so warm, and so addicting. You would never get tired of the feeling his kisses brought upon your being.

He seemingly becomes desperate, for the taste of you always drives him mad. He's tried so hard not to lose control around you, wanting to wait until you were wed before he does the things he's been yearning to do. Now that he had you, just the two of you alone, he couldn't hold back anymore.

A squeal of surprise leaves you as he lifts you into his arms, walking over to lie you down on the edge of the bed. You look up at him through your lashes and he groans at the sight. Out of everything that he desired about you, your eyes were the one thing that could bring him to his knees with just one glance.

His eyes trace over your form as you lay before him. He takes you in as if this were the last time he would ever see you and he finds it incredibly difficult to draw his gaze away. He quickly notices the way your dress pools around the middle of your thighs, your legs slightly spread to accommodate his form which stood between them.

A slight gasp escapes your lips as he carefully traces a finger across the skin of your thigh and he watches with hunger how his touch leaves goosebumps in it's path. You were just as crazy for him as he was for you and somehow, that thought drove him even more insane.

"Please," you whisper, begging, "Please touch me. I need you."

His eyes snap back up to your face and you shudder at the pure want that reflects from his irises.

Wasting no more time, he leans down into the crook of your neck, leaving wet kisses across your flesh until he reaches the shell of your ear, whispering oh so slowly, "I'm going to show you how much I love you, my pretty Viscountess."

His words leave you utterly desperate and you already knew your undergarments were rightfully ruined. You shudder once again at the feeling of his hand disappearing underneath your dress, immediately touching you where you needed him most. He smirks into your neck at the sounds that fall from your mouth out of your control, and the way you grip the back of his neck hopelessly gives him the permission he needs to sink two of his deliciously thick fingers into your core.

"Oh god," you breathe out, your back slightly arching off of the sheets.

"Relax for me, my love." You listen to his gentle words and allow your legs to fall open further, giving him more access to your body. He slowly drags his fingers against your inner walls, praising you for your obedience, "Such a good girl."

Your mouth falls open and your eyes shut momentarily as he reaches even deeper inside of you, drawing the most beautiful sounds from your chest.

He pulls away reluctantly, not ignoring the whine that you make as he does so. He carefully pulls you into a seated position and reaches behind you to unclasp the back of your dress. Your eyes stay on him, not faltering for even a moment as he pulls the material from your body, leaving you in your corset, your undergarments, and your stockings.

A growl is stuck in his throat, threatening to be released as his eyes take you in, having yet to have seen you in this way. As if a flip is switched inside of him, he rushes forward to capture your lips in a heated kiss. He doesn't miss the way your tongue darts from your lips and past his own, relishing in the warmness that his mouth provides you. His hands begin to make quick work of untying the back of your corset, loosening it just enough for him to slide it down your body.

The sight of your breasts almost make him choke. He'd never seen anything more beautiful. They looked so soft and smooth, he was dying to just touch them.

He gives into his thoughts and reaches forward, enveloping both of your breasts into his large hands and he groans at the way your soft, supple flesh felt beneath his fingers. His fingers gently pinch one of your pink nipples, causing your body to jerk so slightly. He copies his actions to your other nipple. smirking when he gets the same reaction from you twice.

Momentarily, he moves his attention down to your undergarments and wastes no time in sliding them off your legs. He decides to leave your stockings on, quite enjoying the way they looked on you.

You take notice of the fact that you were fully naked beneath him, yet he stood fully clothed. You sit up slightly, running your hands up and over the fabric of his coat until you reach the top button, popping it open with ease. He looks down at you as you unbutton the rest, never taking your eyes off of his, and sliding his coat from his shoulders.

Your fingers slide down to the waistband of his pants and you begin to pull the cotton fabric of his shirt from it's confines, then sliding it up his chest. He moderately lifts his arms so you could pull his shirt from his body completely, your eyes falling to his abdomen. You drink in the creamy tone of his skin and his muscles that have been hidden from your eyes all this time.

He takes it upon himself to practically rip the buttons to his pants open, pushing them down his legs in a rush, his underwear soon accepting the same fate. You can't help the way your eyes trail down his body and landing on the hardness that has been kept at bay underneath the fabric of his breeches.

Your mouth begins to water at the sight, not able to stop yourself from reaching forward and taking him into your hand. You moan at how heavy it feels, wanting nothing more than to pleasure him the way he had done for you.

At the feeling of you beginning to run your hand down his length, he abruptly stops you.

"As much as I'd love to feel your cute little hands pleasuring me, I need you." The look in his eyes are pleading you and you bite your lip at the sight. What a man, you think to yourself.

He falls atop of you once more, connecting his lips to yours and moaning at the taste of your mouth. Your fingers find their way into the silky locks of his hair and he groans into your mouth at the feeling. You could feel the weight of his length pressed against your core, slightly rubbing at any sudden movement, and it drew so many more sounds from your body. Sounds that he needed to keep hearing. He never wanted to stop hearing the sounds you make for him.

He pulls away, keeping his eyes on yours as he reaches down to position himself upon your entrance. You didn't know what to expect for what was to come, but you knew you were ready. You were more than ready for him.

A gasp falls from your mouth as he, very slowly, pushes inside of you. The sting was definitely there, but your want for him was so intense that any feeling of discomfort was gone within seconds and soon you were desperately whimpering for him to give you more.

He lets out a grunt, squeezing his eyes closed at the feeling you provided him. You were so warm, and tight, and he felt at home as he buried himself inside the walls of your body.

"Please," you beg him, "More. I need more."

His head falls to the crook of your neck and his hips begin to move against yours, pulling out only just enough until he's diving back inside of you again. The moans that slip from your lips cause his movements to increase and your legs to tighten around his waist.

"God I love you," he grunts into your ear, "So fucking perfect." You moan even louder at his words, your core tightening around him.

One of his hands reach up to cup your breast, the feelings of his fingers playing with your nipple heightening your senses more than you thought possible. Your back arches, pushing your chest into his grip further.

He continues touching you, rolling your nipple between his fingers, growing desperate to hear more of the sounds you make for him. You don't disappoint as another moan escapes you and the pace of his thrusting increases.

There's a familiar feeling building in your core and the grip you have on the back of his neck tightens. His kisses trail from your neck to the underside of your chin and eventually back up to your mouth. You kiss him back hungrily and you dig the heels of your feet into his lower back, pushing him deeper inside of you.

He grips the sheets beside your head and pulls away so he can look at you. He wanted to see the faces you make when you fall apart beneath him, a sight that was more beautiful than anything he'd ever witnessed in his life.

"Look at me, darling," he says, reaching up to softly grip your chin.

You open your eyes and look up at him through your lashes. This was what he wanted to see. He wanted to see your eyes; to look into your soul and watch the way these intense feelings you shared swam around in your irises.

The intensity with which you looked at him caused that oh so familiar euphoric feeling to begin building inside of him as well. He was a weak man when he looked into your eyes. Your eyes were surely going to push him to the edge.

His thrusts grow faster and harder, causing your mouth to fall open and your fingers to bury themselves into the plush skin of his back. That feeling inside of you grows more and more and you feel as though your head may spin off of your shoulders any second.

It only takes a few more of his thrusts and you feel as though you're floating beneath him. Your eyes never leave his and his name slips from your lips over and over, your thighs then tightening around his waist, your core tightening around him even more so. The way you're looking up at him, the way your walls squeeze him so tightly, and the beautiful sounds that fall from your lips cause him to lose all control he's ever had.

His large hands grip your hips and his face falls into the juncture of your shoulder followed by his deep moans releasing from his chest, all the while his pleasure releases inside of you.

You feel breathless, yet wonderful as you hold each other.

Both of you slowly come down from the pleasurable high you simultaneously shared, the room suddenly feeling very warm. Jungkook places a few more kisses down your shoulder and back up again until he reaches your lips. Your lips join in a kiss that lasts for a few slow moments, the two of you basking in the feeling of each other.

He slowly pulls away and looks at you with an endearing gaze as he pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"I love you," he whispers.

Your heart swells and the corner of your lips raise before you lean back in, stealing another kiss.

"I love you too," you whisper back and run your fingers down the side of his handsome face.

For the rest of the night, the two of you lie in bed, limbs tangled and your hearts full. You no longer felt nervous or scared of what was to come in your future, for all you needed was your Viscount and the love he has never hesitated to give you. The fear and anxiousness you felt all melted away as you look over at the man who you got to share the rest of your life with.

Marrying the Viscount was the best thing to have ever happened to you.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

[frost-queen]

The moment I knew // part 10 (Reader!Bridgerton x Tewkesbury)

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Summary: A confession has been made. Will you take the offer and finally live your happily ever after? | final chapter [ part 1 & part 2 & part 3& part 4 & part 5 & part 6 & part 7 & part 8 & part 9]

It means I love you.

Your heart was pounding loudly in your chest. Overpowering your thoughts as you couldn’t think anymore. You weren’t sure how you were looking at him. In shock? Panicking? Glowing? Flustered? Gawking? Seemingly frozen in time as you couldn’t move. – “Miss Y/n.” – Tewkesbury said taking your hand as it startled you awake. – “I cannot bear it any longer.” – he started joining his other hand on yours.

“Every moment apart from you, is excruciating. A pain I no longer wish to bear. I have been a fool, toying around but I am done playing. I am done with my boy-ish attitude.” – he confessed as you curled up a flustered smile. Feeling a bit sheepishly, looking around if anyone was taking noticed of it as well. His hands on yours. A scandalous act in public. Behind him you saw the dancers performing graceful sequences. A dance of tug and war. Pulling and pushing. Nearing and distancing the attraction.

Tewkesbury cleared his throat, bouncing on his feet nervously. – “Miss Y/n… I have a question I have been meaning to ask ever since I became serious about you.” – he started pouring his heart out. You chuckled softly. – “As long as it isn’t a proposal.” – you teased jokingly. You kept chuckling till you noticed Tewkesbury looking saddened back at you. Making it clear in his eyes, it was in fact like that.

You stopped chuckling becoming aware of it. – “Dear lord is it?” – you let out with wide eyes. Tewkesbury looked away with a shy smile. – “Well I am not going to say it now.” – he answered. – “The moment’s ruined miss Y/n.” – he scratched his hair looking nervously away. You pulled your hands back, up to your mouth as you gasped loud. – “Is it a proposal?” – you asked lowering your hands.

“It is isn’t it?” – you called out making Tewkesbury chuckle a bit at your innocence. – “The moment’s gone miss Y/n.” – Tewkesbury said taking a small step back, looking at the ground. – “No!” – you blurted out, startling Tewkesbury. – “No, no, no, no wait!” – you shouted desperately with your hands. – “Wait.” – you spoke making Tewkesbury supress a laugh at how hard you were trying to fix this.

You turned around, taking a few paces away from him. – “Begin once more.” – you called out. – “Miss Y/n I am not…” – he began as you cut him off. – “Begin once more!” – shouting at him as you turned back to him. – “Miss Y/n I’m not just going to begin again.” – he answered feeling a bit foolish. – “You simply take my hands again, you say that you have a question to ask me and I keep my foolish mouth shut!” – you let out making Tewkesbury laugh. – “Please..” – you begged.

“Miss Y/n I…” – Tewkesbury started to laugh again, knowing how silly this was. Too played out and orchestrated. – “Fine!” – you said loudly with determination. – “Then I shall ask you a question.”  - you continued approaching him. – “My lord…” – you said looking down at his hands. Reaching for it, you took it. – “I’ve been a girl with her heads in the clouds, but you kept me grounded. My heart only yearns for you. It is yours to have and hold. I love you Tewkesbury. Will you make me your wife?” – you asked with a sweet smile.

Tewkesbury’s eyes widened. – “You love me too?” – he replied needing to be sure his hearing wasn’t deceiving him. You shyly nodded, twirling your hips a bit around. Tewkesbury’s eyes lit up, smiling purely out of excitement at you. He threw his arms around you, hugging you tight. – “You’ll marry me.” – he told you, squeezing you tighter in his embrace. He then pulled away, taking your hands, to leave a kiss on your knuckles.

Flustered you waved yourself some cool. Suddenly it felt so real till your eyes widened. – “Dear lord my brothers.” – you gasped out. Tewkesbury laughing at that. – “You fear they might skin me alive for proposing?” – he joked out. Seeing the nervous chuckle from you made him gulp. – “I’m sure it will be alright.” – you patted him on the hand, hoping you were right.

“That didn’t sound reassuring.” – Tewkesbury yelped out, breaking out a sweat. He could already imagine your brothers or the Duke stabbing him for proposing to their beloved sister or in law. Tewkesbury felt a fantom stab in this stomach making him winch. – “They aren’t that bad. It should be I who needs to be terrified of your grandmama. Her look alone will turn me to stone.” – you said with a shiver.

Tewkesbury and you shared a look before bursting out in laughter. Tewkesbury offered you his arm. – “Shall we?” – he asked as you accepted his arm. – “We shall, soon to be husband.” – you teased him. Tewkesbury placed his hand against his chest, gasping dramatically at how adorable he found that.

Tewkesbury removed your hand from his arm, holding it in his hand instead as you had found your way back inside. It wasn’t that hard to spot your siblings. He tugged gently on you, pulling you along with him towards them. Anthony and Benedict were in a deep conversation. Francesca beside them with a drink in her hand. She was the first one to notice you. – “I think we’ve found our lost sheep.” – she said with a smile. It made your brothers turn their heads at you. Benedict’s gaze went down, seeing your hand in Tewkesbury’s.

“He’s holding her hand.” – he said sweaty. – “What?” – Anthony replied looking as well. – “They are holding hands.” – Benedict blurted out stunned. Francesca clapped proudly as you neared. – “Sister!” – Anthony hissed out grabbing you by the shoulder. Benedict grabbed Francesca’s drink needing to cool himself. – “I warned you from the beginning it would be my soul purpose to marry him.” – you told your brother.

“What are you talking about?” – Anthony blinked overwhelmed with many emotions. You smiled, patting your brother against his cheek. – “You…” – Anthony said baffled, then looking at Tewkesbury with a point. – “You.” – he repeated as Tewkesbury nodded his head just a tat too amusingly. Benedict nearly fainted as Francesca had to grab him.

Anthony shoved you a bit aside to get to Tewkesbury. – “You asked my sister to marry her without consulting us first!” – Antony called out trying to keep his temper down. – “Actually my lord, she asked me.” – Tewkesbury answered giving Benedict another heart attack. He had just recovered as his knees became weak again. Francesca tried to hold him up right, fanning him. Anthony turned to you as you gave him one of your innocently sweet smiles.

He pointed fiercely at you, trying so hard to be angry at you, but that smile you flashed at him was doing it’s work. – “I’m proud of you sister.” – Francesca said. You curtsied to her. – “Don’t encourage this.” – Anthony said rubbing his forehead feeling it had become sweaty. Mama and Colin returned. – “What happened to him?” – Colin asked gesturing at Benedict. – “My little sister…” – Benedict sobbed out. It made Anthony roll his eyes dramatically at him. – “Oh please, pull yourself together.” – he said between a clenched jaw, pulling him up straight. Dusting his vest a bit off.

“Y/n and Tewkesbury are engaged.” – Francesca informed Colin and mama. – “What?” – Colin shouted a tat too loud, drawing the attention of almost the entire ton. Seeing everyone was focused on him, he cleared his throat. – “Carry on.” – he said waving them away.

The ton proceeded to do what they had been doing before, paying no attention anymore to them. – “What?” – Colin repeated in a lower tone, closer to you. – “Well this is a surprise.” – mama said touching her stomach nervously. – “Do not worry mama, I’ll have him ask me again properly.” – you assured her with a wink. – “Well he better.” – mama answered waving her handkerchief playfully at him. Tewkesbury excused himself with you from your family.

“Where are we going?” – you asked curious. Tewkesbury chuckled nervously as your eyes fell upon his grandmother sitting at a table. – “Dear lord no!” – you blurted out, pulling hard at his arm, coming to a stop. – “It will be alright.” – Tewkesbury reassure you. – “She’ll eat me alive.” – you told him, not wanting to be introduced as his soon to be wife now. – “She already ate diner Y/n.” – he joked. – “This isn’t funny.” – you gave him a slap against his shoulder.

“You want to throw a scandal at the ton?” – you whispered to him anxiously. He placed his hands on your shoulder. – “It will be alright, she won’t cause a scene in public. It is bad for her reputation.” – he responded with a warm smile. Taking a deep breath, you weren’t sure about this, but you couldn’t avoid her forever.

Tewkesbury took your hand, placing it on his arm as he guided you towards her. He cleared his throat near her. – “Tewkesbury?” – his grandmother said looking questionable at him. She then gave you a glare as it made you gulp soft. – “Grandmother.” – he started placing his hand on yours on his arm. – “You’ve met miss Y/n Bridgerton before.” – he went on with shaking legs. – “Yes, the girl you’ve stolen her dance card.” – she recalled making Tewkesbury chuckle nervously.

You gave Tewkesbury a little nudge for encouragement. – “Yes, well.” – he began trying to find a way out of his words. – “Well out with it boy!” – she called out impatient at the lack of information he was giving her. – “I am to marry her.” – he popped out. – “What?” – his grandmother spoke setting her hands on the table as she was about to rise from her seat. Tewkesbury took a save step back, not sure what she would to next.

His grandmother than laughed loud. – “I am to marry her!” – Tewkesbury repeated more confident now. – “Laugh all you want, there is nothing you can do about it. I will marry her. The estate will be mine, so be mindful I don’t see you out grandmama.” – Tewkesbury spoke with seriousness. His grandmother stopped laughing. – “You wouldn’t…” – she replied.

“Watch me.” – he answered as you took a hold of his upper arm. A calm gesture to him to not loose himself in emotions. His grandmother stood up straight. – “How dare you threaten me like that. If it wasn’t for me you’d be a waste. Was it not I who had picked you up after the death of your parents!” – she called out. You could tell Tewkesbury was getting emotional. – “That is enough!” – you made clear silencing her.

“You will always have a home with us if you wish, but you do not disrespect the Viscount!” – your words made her swallow loud. You curtsied at her, not wanting to lose any more words to her. You pulled Tewkesbury with you away from his grandmother. You brought him to a secluded area rubbing your hand up his arm. – “Are you alright?” – you asked. – “I am now.” – he responded leaving a kiss against your cheek.

His touch flustered you, sweeping you up in the moment. You jumped at him, throwing your arms around him as you pressed your lips against his. Your feet found ground again as your lips retracted from his. – “Miss Y/n what a scandal.” – Tewkesbury teased goofily with a blush on his cheeks. – “Good thing I already am to marry you.” – you responded. Tewkesbury grabbed you to kiss you again.

Tewkesbury had proposed properly at your house. Sending a wave of emotions over your family once again. Benedict crying for he didn’t want to loose his younger sister yet. You reassured him you would always be close, visiting the house every day. Tewkesbury and you married by the end of the season. You moved into the estate with him.

His grandmother having settled in the manor up on the country side. It seemed your little counter response tasted bitter in her mouth. She didn’t like getting stepped on her toes. You send word to the girls you knew from your year away. Enlisting them as you had promised. Giving them a good house and a good household to work for. Your siblings would visit almost every day with the smallest thing wanting to share or just spend time with you for they couldn’t stay away. The dream of becoming a princess died out. For what is a princess, when one has a Viscount as Tewkesbury.

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[ovadzs]

strangers in the night

part one

ᝰ.ᐟsummary: When your mother goes missing, it's up to you to find her. Your brother, Sherlock Holmes? Pfft, nothing in comparison to you. But when you end up getting intertwined with the threatened life of Viscount Piastri, things go wayward.

ᝰ.ᐟwho??: Viscount!oscar x holmes!reader

ᝰ.ᐟtrope: Enola holmes au, strangers to... case partners?

ᝰ.ᐟcw: violence, attempted murder, misogyny, etc. NOT PROOF READ!!

ᝰ.ᐟword count: nearly 7k (in this part)

ᝰ.ᐟauthor notes: hi guys! hope you like this!! sorry for the lack of content in a while, had some stuff going on (like my college induction day, kill me. was awful, now dreading next year! also prom next week, yay??? nay??? yes this is like a poor adaption of the film, but i hope it’s worth the read. also, part 2 will have oscar in it consistently, plus an ending which is a bit different to the original!! if you guys like it, i could also do a part 3/4 based off the second film!! lmk 🥳 also, i have very specific songs i listen when writing each fic, would you guys like me to mention them in these intro bits? for example, this one is ‘strangers in the night,’ by frank sinatra!

It's a painfully usual morning. The sun shines just-so through your window, waking you up from an evidently restless evening. Your duvet, and scruffy stuffed bear, flung carelessly on the floor. Paper, strewn about the room, spilling from drawers and shelves. Ink blotches, everywhere. Dents and scrapes, from where you’d tripped searching for a certain book, or where your pins and red string had been pushed ever slightly too hard against the walls. Everything is familiar, and boring, and you had begun to almost hate the routine of it all. You are grateful, of course, that you weren’t stuffed in some awful, prim, boarding school, waiting to be married off. You’d always rather be here instead. But you couldn't help but curse how you were still trapped between these extensive four walls, knowing you would never prance around like your brother, Sherlock. Heck, you’d even take a life like Mycroft’s, even though you knew you were destined to be a much grander detective.

You groan, checking the clock to your right, trying to make sense of the blurry numbers. It ticks on, impatiently, and the sound is surprisingly loud. Or maybe, the rest of the house is surprisingly quiet.

You bolt. Up immediately, disregarding your unruly bed hair and forgetting to apologise to Colonel Teddy (the aforementioned bear) that curses you from the carpet. Traversing corridor after corridor, your mothers name hanging from your worried lips.

“Eudoria? Mother?” you call, ignoring how sleep still choked in your throat. 

The silence is suffocating now, disgusting and evil. Your mother is brilliant, eccentric, and beautiful, and anything but quiet. And in darker days, when the sun refused to rise until much later, she was what woke you up instead.

She trained you not to panic. To think, always think. To feel, only when it was the last option. And even then, only to trust your gut. Most other emotions got in the way of solving a good crime, at least. You’d never had the need to apply emotions anywhere else.

However, she had also trained you when to run, and when to fight. And now, as the absence of her clashing and tinkering was more unsettling than any horror you’d read in your brother's  case files, you decide that violence is indeed the answer. How dare any assailant come in here, snatch away your mother, and leave?

No, you hoped they were still here, so you could show them who on earth they were messing with. Just because Sherlock carried your name like a medal, did not mean he was the only one who had earned to do that. Holmes belonged to you too, and you were here to prove it. 

Fists raised slightly, you creep into your mothers study, underwhelmed by the emptiness of it. Just a simple note, addressed to you. 

‘Hello, dear.

I do Love flowers, don't you?

I believe your brother dOes too. Maybe you should ask him to joiN you in the garden.

Be careful, though. Men Do not always understand the true ambitions of wOmen. I like flowers because I like them, Not because society has told me to.’

It’s cryptic, and you would usually grin at a puzzle, but this felt serious. Secretive, and concerning. She truly was gone, and here she was, inviting you to figure it out. 

Because she believed in you? Because asking Sherlock would be too obvious? 

‘Maybe you should ask him to join you.’

Your body kicks in before your brain does, which is a rare occurrence. The phone is in your hand, his famous number replaying in your head as you wind up each digit, cursing your trembling hands. She’d be disappointed, seeing you let anxiousness creep into each breath.

“Mother?” comes Sherlock’s gruff voice, and you wince.

“She’s gone. You need to get here, as soon as possible. Please.” you request, your voice remaining surprisingly steady. 

You hang up, before any tears fall. You know he’d never take you seriously in this investigation, if you were crying.

Unsure of what to do next, you do the only thing you never, ever, do. You sit, and wait.

***

Sherlock arrives that same evening, followed by your other brother, Mycroft. Although Sherlock is the more famous detective, Mycroft is by no means any less effective. 

He is more realistic, though. And he is adamant on sending you off to boarding school, in hopes to train you into being a woman fit for a husband.

“Absolutely not. I know Mother the best, that's disreputable. I’m also just as brilliant as you two, I think you’ll find. I demand to be part of this.” you declare, arms folded arrogantly, and the two men look between each other.

“Now, I appreciate the sentiment. And I’m sure you are very bright, but I think this would be best to do alone. Mother did suggest you bring me into it.” Sherlock replies, sternly, avoiding any eye contact with his brother on the left.

“Exactly. But she clearly wanted us to work together, surely. She said, ‘join you.’” you plead, but he looks away from you.

“She’s kept you in here for far too long. As unfortunate as it is, I do not quite think you will ever become a detective, and I do not think that to die trying is a good way to go out. I’ve heard wondrous things about Mrs Harrison’s finishing school, and I find it most fitting that you attend. I will organise it, at once, yes? Please, do not be irritable about it.” decides Mycroft, letting the finality of his words hang in the air.

“This is why we all know she was talking about Sherlock and not you in her infuriating note.” you mumble under your breath, and you’re glad that he looks hurt, for a small moment.

It’s quiet, and awkward, until Sherlock speaks again.

“So, we’ve established she left of her own accord, surely. No sign of struggle, at all. And she obviously doesn’t want us to panic, and tell anyone, or she wouldn’t have left a note. I’ll take care of this, as I know you’re busy with the vote and bills at the moment, Mycroft. If you trust me to solve this. And you, well you can enjoy proper schooling, yes? You’ve never been, if I remember correctly. You used to dance around in improper trousers and cling to pinecones.” he claps, standing up cheerfully like it's any other case. 

“Neither of you have visited in such a long time. You don’t know me, do you, brothers?” you ask sneakily, hoping to make them feel guilt for shunning you once, and instantly shunning you again.

“You are right, and that is regretful. I will make an effort to check in on you, at school, of course. I’m sure we can have arrangements made to pick you up tomorrow, as we depart on the train.” replies Mycroft, shutting you down quickly. 

But you are resourceful, and you already have etchings of a beautiful (if not slightly crazy) plan.

“Oh, at least let me wave you off from the platform. I haven’t seen a train in such a long time!” you sulk, and Sherlock smiles lazily.

“Surely, that’s acceptable to you, brother? I enjoyed hearing the churning sound of a train too, when I was her age.” he comments, and Mycroft nods slowly.

“I suppose that’s alright. I can drop you off personally afterwards, then. I would recommend you begin to pack.” he mutters, waving you away, and you stare angrily at him as you begrudgingly trail to your bedroom.

***

It’s surprisingly busy at the train station platform, which is delightful. Bodies and sounds fill the air, giving you very little room to swing your suspiciously light suitcase. Train horns whistle as they roar past, and you focus very keenly on the timetable plastered in front of you.

Sherlock’s train is on the left hand side, and would arrive just as one to your right  departs. That’s your plan, just as Mycroft is wishing him farewell. You’d jump straight onto the other, and straight towards London, as that was always the best place to start an investigation. Also, coincidentally, you had noticed something your brothers had not, for they did not know Eudoria as you did- she had capitalised a few letters which spelt out London.

To the untrained eye? Messy handwriting. To yours, a beautiful hidden message. A sure sign that she wanted you to find her, to work out what had happened.

It plays out perfectly. The doors of your target are closing, just as Sherlock’s is opening. He pulls Mycroft into a respectable embrace, and you take it- the chance.

You barrel for the back of the train, feeling that familiar stretch in your legs that makes you grin. Your boots, laced with mismatched ribbons, kick up dirt and gravel. They create a trail of unrest and change and feed you with grip and determination. You’re quick, just quick enough to know you could make the jump.

So you leap, without blinking. And for a moment, you fly.

You hear Mycroft yelling, and Sherlock hollering, but you don’t care. Arms outstretched, you land somewhat ungracefully against the thin rim of the back of the locomotive, gripping ridiculously tight to the thin bars. It’s chugging away, slowly, and you hoist yourself up to the roof, marvelling in the freedom of it all.

You make an effort to try not to feel any fear about how suddenly alone you are. You’ve never been alone before, not like this. Even though, when you were younger, your mother had actually nicknamed you ‘Enola’ (‘Alone’, backwards. Eudoria liked to mock your need for solitude.)

You crouch on the edge of the roof, grateful for how long it takes these trains to reach any sort of respectable speed, so you’re safe to clamber in through a window. Gleefully, you spot a completely empty cabin, with the window completely open.

Perfect.

You gently climb in, adjusting your ruffled skirt as you sit down, and you scan the luggage in the rack above you. There’s only one, and it's large. Looks heavy, and important, and you almost want to open it. There’s still a small gap, so you decide to throw your own tiny suitcase up next to it.

As you shimmy on your tiptoes, trying to reach the iron rack, the train jolts. Aggressively. So much so that you tumble backwards into the seat on the opposite side, and you watch as that singular suitcase crashes to the floor directly in front of you, it’s contents spilling out.

Its contents being… limbs?

A stream of disgruntled sounds comes from the open bag, mumbles of ‘ows’ and ‘ughs’.

You recoil, trying to remain unphased, as an awkward mop of chestnut hair pokes out of the top, followed by darker eyes that stare directly into yours.

“Hello.” says the suitcase, which is now evidently a young man, grimacing at you.

“Please, get out of this carriage.” you say quickly, angry at how quickly confusion is settling on your face.

“I can’t. I’m in hiding.” he replies equally as fast, as he leverages himself out of his hiding-spot and into the seat opposite you.

“Was a bit of a to-do, truly. Bribed a porter into hiding me here, and everything.” he continues, conversationally, and you just stare at him.

“Very daring.” he finishes, waiting for a response expectantly.

“Get out of this carriage, immediately.” you demand.

He doesn't move, at all. Just studies you carefully.

“You’re a funny looking lady.” he says pointedly, clearly struggling to figure out how your eccentric skirt pairs with duty boots and a paper-boy cap.

“And you think you look normal?” you sneer, eyeing him with absolute scrutiny.

He could be very handsome, you decide. His eyes are inviting, and his moles complement his face nicely. But his ridiculous hair and obnoxious clothes reek of privilege and insincerity and truly make him look very daft, especially because you assume he’s the same age as you. Much too young to look so decorated.

“Who are you?” he asks carefully.

“What are you?” you retort immediately, and his face morphs into a look of contempt, but he also looks slightly entertained.

“I’m Viscount Piastri, the Marquess of Clarenwether.” he introduces himself gleefully, extending a palm.

You don’t take it. 

“You’re a nincompoop.” you say decidedly, and he looks very… cross. He quickly retracts his hand and stares at you angrily, but you still don’t move.

“I’ll have you know, I have just undertaken a particularly daring escape, from a man in a brown bowler hat.”

You think back to before you leapt on the back, and you recall this man, in the bowler hat, entering the very train.

“You’re not very good at escaping then, clearly. He’s got on, I saw him. And when he inevitably finds you, because of your weak attempt at hiding, I shall be endangered because he thinks I am helping you. Therefore, I ask you again to leave this carriage.” Your voice is laced with determination, and confidence, and you’re stumped by his lack of response.

You stare at each other for a while, and you wonder how much money he must’ve given that porter, as he is clearly an absolute idiot, and definitely was outsmarted by the train crew.

“You remind me of my uncle. Bossy. Left him at the station. All of them, my family, my grandmother, everyone. Which is fine. Good, even. I am free now. You see?” he explains, easily throwing the now empty suitcase back up next to yours, before sitting down next to you, ignoring as you shift as far away from him as possible.

“That’s brilliant to hear. So, you can leave now, yes?” you repeat, and he looks at you, swallowing the severity of your voice.

“The man in a brown bowler hat, is here, you say? Okay. It’ll be fine.” he reassures, and he stands and peeks out of the door, before stepping out.

“It’ll be fine.” he repeats, as he smiles at you, to say goodbye.

And then he’s gone, and you breathe deeply in relief.

37 peaceful seconds pass, until he's back.

“He’s coming!”

“Of course?” you mumble, not opening your eyes.

“No, he’s checking every carriage.” he shrieks, and you shrug.

“Wonderful.”

A moment passes, of unsettling silence.

“You have to help me.” he pleads. “He didn’t see me.”

“Of course he did. Therefore, I will be off, and I bid you a good day, Viscount Piastri, the Marquess of Clarenwether.” you mutter, as you grab your case and step out into the hallway, giving him a not-so-friendly stare.

You walk forwards, trying to shake the image of his terrified eyes out front your mind, and suddenly someone bumps aggressively into your shoulder- his bowler hat practically scowling at you.

You freeze momentarily, but he pays you no attention. Instead, he heads straight into the carriage you just left, calling out cheerfully, “There you are, sir.”

And that aligns with your idea that that Piastri fellow was merely a rebellious teen, and you exhale.

That’s until you hear a shatter, and a shout. A shout of pain, and terror, and panic, and you hesitate.

‘Don’t be thrown off course by other people, especially men!” you hear your mother laugh in your mind, and your heart aches for her.

But your heart also squeezes uncomfortably tight when he screams again, and you swivel around immediately, marching aggressively back to the carriage.

You peer through the window and gasp before you can stop yourself: the man is gripping him by the neck as he hangs out the door, his arms flailing awkwardly as the wind blasts through him, his eyes watering in fear and pain. You scan the room and spy the bowler-hat man’s cane lying unattended on the seat, and you propel yourself into the room, pick it up, and whack him surprisingly forcefully with his own cane. His body crumples onto the floor immediately, as the Viscount still shouts, dangling out the door.

You carefully step over the body on the floor and extend an arm to him, pulling him back inside with a momentous effort. He steadies himself and flashes you a smile.

“We need to go, now.” you say firmly, and he nods, following you out of the carriage and down, back towards the end of the train.

You search every carriage, desperate for an empty one, to no avail, until you reach  the same door you’d been hanging onto earlier.

“What are we going to do?” he asks quietly, desperately, willing you to say something ingenious. You don't reply, instead you poke your head out of the door, scanning the countryside. You catch sight of a bridge you’re about to cross, and you nod. You shimmy out, gripping onto the edge.

“Alright, follow me, okay. Careful.” you say slowly, watching yourself place each small step, until you’re hanging from one bar, one foot dangling over the fast moving ground below.

He follows you, his breath quickening, wincing. He manages to close the door behind him as he lines up beside you.

“What are you-” he begins to ask, but you can barely make it out over the roaring of the train along the tracks.

“Do you trust me?” you bellow, waiting impatient for an answer as the bridge draws closer.

“No??” he shouts back, and you almost smile, but you can’t give him the satisfaction.

“If we time it correctly, we can leave him stranded.” you call, annoyed by the confusion on his face.

“Time what correctly?” he replies hurriedly, and you sigh.

“Listen Piastri, we have two choices.” you shout, exasperated.

“And which one involves me, um, not dying?” he responds urgently.

The door flings open and the man in the bowler hat emerges, reaching straight for the Viscount.

“This one!” you yell, as you yank his hand and fling yourself off the train, down the hill. You watch the bowler man falter, cursing as he remains stuck above the bridge, and you cheer as you tumble violently through thick grass and unfortunately placed thistles.

You eventually stop rolling, grinning to yourself, as you swivel upright and stare at the boy above you, making the same variations of sounds he made earlier after falling off the suitcase rack.

“Well, you sure do make rather a lot of noise, don’t you?” you comment snarkily, and he looks at you, irritated.

“You just threw me-huff-off a train.” he replies, and you scowl.

“No, I just saved your life.” you correct, but he doesn’t thank you, instead he complains about losing a button on his no-longer pristine grey two piece. You almost hope one of his buttons pops directly into his stupid, smug, brown eyes.

You get up immediately, and do not offer him a hand. You march onwards, and you hear him groan loudly as he treks after you, evidently struggling to keep up.

“You’ve ruined my plan, you know, truly. Such an inconvenience.” you mutter.

“Your plan? Who are you? I feel I deserve to know.” he demands, and you turn dramatically to face him.

“Well, I am undercover, so as soon as I tell you, forget it.”

You say your first name quickly, like it is of no importance. Irrelevant. And in some ways, it is. You’re sure Viscount Piastri here understands that, considering he introduced himself without his own first name. But your last name?

You take your time with that one, watching him boggle slightly.

“Holmes, as in, Sherlock? You’re actually a Holmes?” he asks excitedly, and you nod. “And you’re undercover, because you’re working with him?”

You don’t reply immediately. “Something like that.”

You continue walking, waiting for him to speak, but he doesn’t.

“So?” you demand, and he stares at you blankly.

“So, what?”

“Thank you? You’re supposed to thank me.” you reply angrily.

“For what?” he questions, and you almost hit him in the face, but you refrain and walk on.

***

The sun begins to set uncomfortably soon.

“We should begin to think about sleeping.” you say wisely, but he disagrees.

“No, we should begin to think about food, I say.”

“We have nothing to eat.” you hiss back, but he chuckles.

“Sure we do, look.” he begins, gesturing to the various plants in the field you’re walking through. He names them all, in Latin and English, and quickly explains their various functions and flavours. You try to act unimpressed.

He mumbles about a feast, and fire, and you dutifully gather wood. By the time darkness has settled in, you’re both happily eating an array of mushrooms and foliage, and it’s surprisingly satisfying.

“You know, you ought to disguise yourself a tad more. You’re rather recognisable with that alarming mop of hair.” you say clearly, and he shrugs.

“I don’t care for it, really. Go on, cut it off with that knife you’re wielding slightly scarily.” he jokes, but you do exactly as he says.

You hoist yourself up behind him, carefully cutting through layers of his thick hair, as he asks you questions you usually wouldn’t answer.

“So, why did you run away?” he murmurs inquisitively.

“Didn’t want to go to ‘Miss Harrison’s’ finishing school. What about you?” you reply casually, and he exhales shakily.

“Please, don’t find me pathetic. But I was collecting mushrooms, and a branch from the tree above me collapsed. I should’ve died, truly. Crushed to death, but I wasn’t. Would’ve been inconvenient. You see, I have ideas-”

“As so many of us do” you quip, and he smiles.

“Yes, well, I was meant to join the house of Lords. Make my ideas mean something. But my family wanted me to go a ‘mans way.’ Join the army, stay in my place. No need for politics, no need for my ideas. They would benefit others, I think, not my own estate. And I just thought, what if I hate it? What if they send me away, and I wish instead that tree did crush me? So I ran.” he admits gently, and you stare at him carefully.

“I do not find that, nor you, particularly pathetic.” you say calmly, and he grins.

“So, what about finishing school is so terrible? Why suddenly send you there now?”

You choose to stop sharing there.

“We must move early in the morning, as soon as the sun is visible. Bowler man will be on our tail by now, certainly.”

He nods, then pauses. “Where are you heading?”

“London.” you say firmly, and his grin spreads even wider across his flushed face.

“Well, so am I! Isn’t that brilliant? Why don’t we make it there together?” he suggests, and you want to say no, but your body betrays you as you smile slightly.

“Fine. But once we make it there, we split up.” you confirm, and he agrees quickly.

***

You manage to hitch a ride on the back of a cart loaded with sheep, all the way to the outskirts of the city. As soon as it slows, you hop off, and you raise your cap to him.

“So, we’re parting here, then.” he complains lamely, and you nod.

“You’ll be fine. Goodbye, Piastri.”

“It’s Oscar. My first name, I mean.” he mutters, before wishing you farewell. You don’t like the familiarity, him using your first name so casually, and giving you his. 

“Let’s stick with surnames, I think. Most appropriate.”

“Fair enough, Holmes. You’ve proven you can outsmart Sherlock anyway, so I trust you will succeed in whatever you are investigating. Good luck.” he says sincerely, and you wave him goodbye as you walk off, ignoring the pang of something in your stomach.

“He’ll be fine.” you repeat, to reassure yourself. “Now, I’m back on track.”

***

Although you’d lived a sheltered life, you did not let your lack of understanding of the outside world stop you from getting things done. You did not linger too long on thoughts about that blasted Viscount ‘Oscar’ Piastri, the Marquess of Clarenwether. No, instead, you marched straight into the first boutique you could find, and demanded masses of velvety fabrics and corsets you were unsure of how to tighten.

When you emerged back out, you looked respectable. Ladylike. Completely and totally pretentious. Someone who would fit perfectly on Piastri’s arm, not that you were imagining it. Not that he was still lodged firmly in your slightly frazzled mind.

The seamstress had also been kind enough to point you out to some lodgings nearby, and you settled into your room. It was dank, and dark, and offputting. Musty, and rickety. But cheap and very close to your next target: a woman named Edith which your mother had often corresponded with.

You had a knack for remembering addresses, but you never thought memorising hers would come in handy.

You enter the seemingly innocent bakery, surprised by waitresses and the smell of fresh pastries. Why would your mother be so secretive about letters to a baker?

“Good afternoon, I’m looking for an Edith?” you ask slowly, to a woman behind a counter, and she raises an eyebrow at you.

“Upstairs.” is her brief response, and you study the thudding sound coming from above, before walking up the stairs.

It’s rows and rows of women on thin mats, throwing each other and fighting, and you feel somewhat at home. It reminds you of the training you did with your mother, the endless hours of Jujitsu, all the times she’d thrown you against a tree unapologetically.

“You tryna’ enroll?” asks a woman to your right, and you shake your head.

“No, I’m already trained. I’m looking for Eudoria Holmes.” you admit, staring at the lady intently. “Are you Edith?”

She laughs. “What, you don’t remember me? I was your first teacher. You look just like her, y’know?” she murmurs, and you beam. High praise.

“I need you to tell me where I can find Ellie Houseman.” you ask casually, and Edith freezes.

“Where did you hear that?” she hisses, pulling you into her small office.

Your mother had always valued her own privacy. Closed doors, closed for good reason. Weaponised, utilised, to shut you out. Rare, but unrelenting.

You, on the other hand? You valued knowledge, and curiosity. A door closed was simply a door to be opened, and so that’s what you would do. Peer through tiny cracks, or place glasses against walls to listen in. And Ellie Houseman had cropped up so often, she became more constant than your own brothers. And you knew your investigation would be useless without her.

That’s when the first blow comes. A hit you hadn’t anticipated. Her hand slices aggressively into your neck, and you wince, before slamming yours straight back into her side. She grunts, before charging into you, her curly hair flying out of place. It’s quick, whack after whack in quick succession. You’re simultaneously attacking and defending, cursing your stupid corset and too prim skirt. 

“You need to leave this alone.” she shouts into your ear, yanking you towards her, but you push her backwards.

“She is my mother! I can’t just leave her, she’s left me clues. She wants me to find her, I’m sure of it.” you reply back quickly, shrieking as one well placed kick sends you crashing to the floor.

“Have you considered the opposite? Maybe she’s leaving you a fake trail to follow, so you stay out of her way.” Edith hisses, and you recoil, your hand shrinking away from her foot.

“Miss Holmes, I’m not convinced you are ready for this.” she admits, stepping over your aching body towards the door.

“No one is. But I don’t care.” you fire back, getting up with a sharp inhale. She commends your resilience, you can tell.

“Your mother knew you were listening, I bet.” she says simply, slowly, as if she’s given you valuable information, and you just let out an exasperated sigh.

She leaves you to think it over, and that you do, propping yourself up against her desk. That's when you see a map, with a few locations dotted and circled. And one in particular catches your eye.

Limehouse Lane. A place of no significance. But if it was significant to your mother, you know what she would’ve done. She would’ve rearranged it, rearranged it to something understandable but casual, something you’d only know if you knew. Something that could be said easily in conversations, without raising suspicion. A name would be good. A name, like

Ellie Houseman. 

***

Limehouse Lane is dingy and uninviting. Litter lies amongst the cobbled floors, and unknown things squelch below your feet, but you refuse to be deterred. Determination has always been a strong suit of yours.

You make it to the end of the street, coming face to face with a warehouse, doors slightly ajar. You slip in silently and begin to explore.

Boxes and crates are piled in neat rows, and stacks of leaflets and newspapers are strewn across them. Cautiously, you lift open a crate and you gasp slightly. Explosives. A huge selection of explosives.

Every crate, very full. Very illegal. The posters and leaflets? Invitations to rallies. Feminist rallies.

Suddenly all Eudoria’s teachings make so much sense. How she’d instructed you to never conform to a society designed for men. And you quickly realise that Edith was right. She had not wanted you to realise what kind of an activist she was- for she was truly a radical.

And as much as you admired it, you realise that Edith was right once again. You might not be ready for this. Admittedly, you were still so young, with such little understanding of the nature of the world. So, suddenly, being in an abandoned warehouse full of illegal weapons which you knew your mother intended to wield was not nearly as exciting as you thought it ought to be. Instead, you have the sudden urge to run.

An urge you did not get usually.

As you make your way back outside, something catches your eye. A shrine of sorts, across the lane, under a lame shed-like structure.

The innocent eyes of Viscount ‘Oscar’ Piastri, plastered all over numerous sheets of paper, staring at you. Maps and lists, crossed angrily. Places, scribbled and circled. Like he was of some importance, to someone dwelling around Limehouse Lane. And you wonder if maybe, he has some role in this you weren’t aware of. If maybe, somehow, he is connected to your mother.

And that’s when the excitement kicks in. You put it down to the idea of new evidence, and the distance between you and the bombs. It has nothing to do with the idea of seeing the Viscount again, absolutely not.

You scan the newspaper clippings again, smiling slowly as you read one of the headlines. A flower market in Coventry. ‘Dazzling, exotic, never before seen. European’, etc, read the slogan. 

You were no botanist, but if you were, that’s where you’d go, for sure. And you were certain that you’d find him there.

You go to take a step forward, when a hand grabs you around the throat. It’s gruff, and tight. Choking, you kick your assailant aggressively in the leg, hearing an ‘oof’ sound, and you’re somewhat unsurprised when you turn and see a familiar man in a familiar bowler hat. Great.

You throw a punch at his jaw, and you grin as you hear a satisfying crack, but he doesn’t even stumble. Instead, he aims straight for your face and you stagger back clumsily to avoid the impact. Then his cane whacks your thigh, so hard, and you shriek in pain, tripping over. He dives straight at you, and you both clatter into a low window, shattering the glass. You wrinkle your nose as you smell smoke, and scurry upwards, trying your best to limp away, but he’s right behind you.

You turn the corner to see nothing other than a large bucket of water and a scuffed wall, and you curse. You turn to face him, trying to keep an air of confidence as he runs towards you. He grabs your head, smashing you into the wall, and you grit your teeth as you feel your nose beginning to bleed, but you don’t pause. You headbutt him aggressively, and he reels just long enough for you to kick him over.

Then you slam your foot into his chest, hearing him heave. But he grabs you down with him, thrusting a short knife straight into your stomach.

He gets up, staring at you expectantly, but you simply get up too, shuddering. You rip the knife from your stomach incredulously, wondering if adrenaline was why you couldn’t feel any pain.

“How the hell-” begins your assailant, and you scowl at him, pulling open the rip in your dress. Your corset, turns out, had saved you. Genius.

You throw yourself at him, scraping the knife down his arm, but he barely even yelps. Instead, he forces your head into the bucket, laughing as you writhe in the water.

He pulls you up as you scream. “Where is the Marquess?” he asks, low and evil. You feign innocence.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” you reply, indignant, and he pushes you back into the water again as you shout, pushing your arms against the side of the barrel.

He pulls you up again. “Do I need to ask again?”

You shake your head, quickly. “Okay, yes, I know him. But I promise, I don’t know where he is. We went our separate ways.” you plead, and he pauses, like he’s considering what you’ve said.

“Well, that’s a terrible shame, but you’ve seen my face now.” he replies gravely, and you wince.

“Your face is very forgettable, truly.” You attempt, but it’s too late. You’re back underwater, and life is slipping from you as you feel your energy depleting.

You stop writhing. You slow entirely, conserving the little strength you have left. He stops pressing your head down, and comes closer to you, examining if you’ve truly given up.

He hesitates for a moment too long, and you slam into him, with all the force you can muster. He curses, and you sprint back to where the fire had started. You don’t hesitate, throwing a flaming plank of wood into the warehouse.

You most certainly do not hesitate to see if he’s made it out as you watch the entire thing end up alight, a blaze spreading across each old wooden wall. You do not turn around as you begin to hear bangs and pops. Instead, you limp onwards to Coventry.

Onwards to Piastri. Because if that bowler-hat man had almost killed you, he would have no trouble murdering that pompous boy without you around. And as you take each step, you decide with a heavy heart that your mother would be more than fine without you, and that maybe she viewed you as a hindrance. So now, you could accept this new mission.

***

You visit the market the next day. He is sporting a new look, you make a note of. Less ridiculous, less rich. You almost hadn’t noticed him, but you recognise your own handiwork as you watch his uneven hair.

“I’d quite like a blue flower, preferably. Are blue roses a thing? I don’t really care for flowers.” you ask him loudly, admiring him sift diligently through a row of different plants.

“Well, no real ones-” he begins formally, turning around to face you.

His face lights up, and you smile at him bashfully.

“Holmes! It’s you. I’ve missed you.” he says immediately, too immediately, and you hesitate.

“Yes, that’s nice of you, Piastri. ‘Suppose I’ve grown fonder of you too, in your absence. But that’s not why I’m here.” you say seriously, but he just smiles at you, dazed.

“You’re in grave danger. Truly, grave. That bowler-hat man is coming, and he’s relentless. So, I’ve decided to devote my brilliance to your case, so you stay alive.” you explain, and he looks at you, like he’s considering something.

Then he embraces you, his large arms wrapping around you easily, and you try not to melt. You hadn’t realised how isolated you were, living alone. Hiding from your brothers, searching for your mother. Well and truly alone.

You wonder if maybe he felt the same. If maybe it was instinctual, to try and get some comfort. Some contact. Maybe he needs this just as much as you do.

So you allow yourself to relax, ever so slightly. For his benefit, you assure yourself. 

“Should I be scared?” he asks quietly, mumbling into your unruly hair.

“Terrified.” you admit, and you hear him sigh. You pull away quickly, readjusting your dress and grabbing him by the arm.

“I’ve been collecting any clippings and things I can find, to get a headstart. Follow me.” you announce, guiding him through small streets until you reach your lodging.

Unfortunately, you don’t see the tenant eyeing you entering the building. You don’t see her grip on an unflattering ‘wanted’ poster of you. Maybe if you had, you would have run away.

The Viscount eyes your room, a small smirk etched on his lips. “Cheapest place you could find?”

You huff. “The lady assured me a fair price.”

“The lady lied to you.”

You roll your eyes at him, gesturing to the documents sprawled out in front of you. He watches you carefully, but suddenly the door slams open.

A strange looking man, with a ridiculously large moustache and a squiffy uniform.

You recognise him, as an inspector that had worked with your brothers before.

“Detective Lestrade!” you say cheerfully, grinning the confusion on his face.

“You know this guy?” mutters Piastri, into your ear.

“Think he’s going to try and detain me now.” you reply, grabbing the teapot to your right and hurling it aggressively at Lestrade’s face, watching him fumble backwards.

Yanking the Marquess’ arm, you drag him up the rickety stairs, laughing.

“Well, if wasn’t going to try and detain you before, he definitely is now!” he comments, and you flash him a lazy smile.

“Mycroft’s put him up to it, I’m sure. Help me pull this chest, please.” you grunt, lamely attempting to push the chest against the door, as a weak barricade.

Lestrade is there immediately, ignoring the bruise rapidly developing on his large nose. He rams himself into the door, seething at you through the small gap.

“Miss Holmes, and whoever it is you’re with, please come out immediately. Or I’ll have to smash this door down.” he shouts, but you just stare at him, undecided on what to do.

With each moment you think, you feel the chest shift below you, and realise you’re fighting a losing battle.

“Piastri, are you listening? We can’t hold him off forever.” you announce, watching the door grow more open with each thump from Lestrade’s arm.

The boy nods. “So, what’s your plan?” he asks quickly, humming as he keeps pushing the door, to no avail.

“I’ll hold it, so you can run. And you will run. Run as far as you can.” you say, your tone deadly serious. Your voice doesn’t even waver, even though your hands are shaking.

He stares at you incredulously.

“I’m not leaving you. Absolutely not.”

You sigh at him, exasperated. “Listen, you have to. What happens now, for me, is simple. Finishing school. But if you, if you get caught? You’re dead.” you explain.

“I’m not leaving you-”

“I demand it!” you shriek, feeling your hands slip.

“I can’t do it, you wouldn’t do it to me, would you?” he asks, but you don’t reply. Instead, two words leave your panicked lips.

“Oscar, please.”

He doesn’t move, not straight away, but he gives himself a second to look at you. To truly look at you. And he looks at you like you’ve just said something holy. Something secret, maybe something beautiful.

Actually, he looks at you like you are beautiful, even though you know that right now, you most certainly are not.

“Please.” you repeat, and then he runs, straight for the door behind you, to the fire escape.

You give him one last weak smile, and then he’s gone, and you stop fighting it.

You let Lestrade pile in, and silently curse the evil woman that follows him, pestering about a reward.

But your thoughts follow the Viscount, hating the fact you already miss him. Already want to know that he’s safe, even though you practically can still hear his heavy footsteps.

You hate the fact that you want to ask him why he was looking at you like that, what it meant.

You hate him, and the fact he’s ruined your investigation, and now you’re going to be locked up forever in that stupid finishing school, where your mother will remain unfound and you’ll have to hear of Piastri’s demise through a weekly paper.

end of part one ⌕

[yona049]

𝕻𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖔𝖒 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕺𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖆 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

Part 1

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

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Disclaimer!

This is a story following the events after the Phantom of the Opera (2004) and only follows the movie and not any other adaptations!

Started with this fic a few years ago and finally continued bc I couldn't find any new fic's to read! 🥺

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

(For ambiance~)

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Y/n stood with her feet planted infront of the burning Palais Garnier opera house, the ashes of a once red stage curtain falling on her bare shoulders. The only bit of warmth was the costume she was wearing.

A red fire dancer, her hair still in perfect shape. Tho it seems that the other staff of the Opera house weren't as lucky.

Her home was burning down infront of her eyes, and snow did nothing but usher on the burning flames of rage.

This was the doing of one Phantom of the opera. The damned demon took it all from them, their home, their jobs and even Christine Daaé.

The lead singer and great musician that made Y/n dance like never before, Christine's sweet melody made her feet float inches from the ground as her soul danced in sync with her body.

One shiver crawled up Y/n's spine when she heard an unghastly scream. Her feet simply lept to it, only to find a man crawling out of the burning opera house.

"Monsieur!" she cried out to him.

His face seemed to have already been caught by the fire and he barely wore anything but a shirt and his trousers. Y/n fell to her knees beside his weak body.

"Don't worry, Monsieur, you are out of the fire! Please, be still! You are injured. "

She trembled watching blood force its way through the thin gaps between the snowflakes. Blood still warm enough to melt and merge with ice to water.

In a desperate attempt, Y/n pulls off the bottom part of her dancing grown and desperately looked for the point of injury when she finally found the wound on the calve on his leg.

Tieing it tightly before Y/n hoisted him up to his feet.

"Please lean on me, we need to get further from the flames!"

He didn't speak, only grunted in pain. His voice was deep, without effort as if he was willing to Perish without hesitation.

Y/n took a moment to gently touch his burnt skin on his face, he didn't seem to whine. It was as she thought, the wound was not from the fire that had engulfed many others in its treacherous flames.

She shakes herself awake and quickly focuses on the problem at hand.

"I have strength to carry you, but you'll need to carry your consciousness for a little while longer!" she shutted, her voice swelling with pity for him.

'What happened to this poor soul?' She wondered and dragged his feet though the snow.

Y/n didn't know his name, nor his origin from the opera house. Perhaps a operator for the theater special effects? Or perhaps a member of the audience, sitting among the red velvet seats and nearly getting crushed by the chandelier falling loose from its hinges.

It wasn't long after when Y/n and the other performers were taken to a nearby inn. Perhaps it was the will of a greater power that the Opera managers didn't leave them to rot on the streets. Rather to reclaim insurance funds or come around a lone?

At least, she hoped that was the case. But for the moment, she was afraid of what might happen.

The opera house had been home for the last eighteen years of Y/n's life. No, certainly more!

Her father was a dancer, and her mother's legacy had been lost among the chatter and rumors of the opera.

Y/n's father had passed when she was only ten. Now, she was eighteen years older and she promised to follow in his dancing steps to fame.

Still engulfed in her thoughts Y/n stared into the small oil lamp flames while she sat on the bed of the inn. The figure of a woman danced in the red and orange colors.

This seemed to distract her from the man waking up from his exhausted slumber behind her.

He winced with a grumble when Y/n's head turned to face him. His palm covering the burn on his face that she saw before.

"Monsieur?" she whispered in an effort not to frighten him.

His gaze slowly trailed to Y/n's worried expression, but his palm never left his face.

Y/n took this opportunity to explain their predicament.

"Please, do not be frightened. We're in an inn, the managers have sent us to wait until they can reclaim funds."

She stood up to take the bowl of water and cloth to dampen the burnt flesh on the man's face.

She knelt down beside the bed and lightly lifted the damp cloth to his face. His eyes met hers, but Y/n only stared in silence hoping he'd understand her efforts.

Tho he was hesitant, his palm lightly lifted from his face. She feared the wound was still hissing with pain. Lightly the cloth is placed onto his eye and he gave a simple sigh of relief.

Silence filled the room, it would've seemed like only the stars were their witness if it weren't for the drunken cheers from the bar below.

Finally the man took a breath and spoke.

"What of Christine Daaé? Has she been found?"

Y/n's breathing seemed to betray her when her body couldn't fathom the gentle voice the man muttered. She tried to form words, creating a stutter.

"Y-yes, it um, It seems she has been retrieved by the Viscount Raoul de Chagny. She has offered many services to those who did not escape the flames unscathed." she whispered and willed herself to not look into his captivating eyes.

He looks to the side and gives a simple smile, seeming satisfied with his thought.

As soon as his skin was dampened once more he tried to stand with a gasply hiss of pain.

"Monsieur, please be patient! Your wound is still open and fresh!"

He grits his teeth before taking his seat again but looking back at the fireplace.

The rest of the night remained quiet, like he didn't have need to ask her anymore questions.

An awkward night spent sharing a room with a stranger. He fell asleep quickly with exhaustion.

Y/n couldn't sleep. Things ended so abruptly! How could she? Her love died in the fire, her home, belongings. She had nothing to her name anymore.

Y/n quietly stood up from the bed trying to keep noises to a minimum. Avoiding the creeking floor boards and opening the window to look outside.

The smoke from the Opera house covered the sky, no moon in sight. This quiet moment with her thoughts caused her throat to close up and her eyes to push tears.

As quietly as she could, she tried crying everything out, to no avail. Morning her loss took more than just a moment of soft tears.

"I'm sorry my love, Aloïs, I couldn't save you!"

She whispered. Her lover in the theater house had been burnt in the flames because he pushed her away from falling beams.

"Aloïs?"

She gasped when the voice lurks from behind her caught her off guard. The man stood up from the bed and had walked to right behind her without her hearing him.

"Monsieur! I'm so sorry, did I wake you?"

He shakes his head before spotting Y/n's shivers. Looking back at the blanket on the bed, he grabs it with one hand and swings it across her shoulders.

A gentleman! Y/n wasn't sure many workers from the Opera were quite so kind.

"You knew my Aloïs?"

He nods before leaning on the wall next to the window.

"Indeed, he helped me with costumes, more specifically Masks." The man mumbled folding his arms across his chest.

Y/n quickly realized what he meant when the dim light shone on his burnt face. Aloïs was the lead costume designer for all actors, singers and dancers in the opera. He'd certainly be willing to help a gentleman like the man stood next to her.

With a small giggle she put her hand on his shoulder.

"Of course, Aloïs would do something like that. I'm sorry if I make you uncomfortable without a mask."

He looks at me confused almost relieved that he wasn't the one in trouble for once. That someone genuinely asked if he was uncomfortable instead of rushing him away and out of sight.

"You're apologizing? Mademoiselle-"

"Y/n, please."

He seems to smile before leaning closer and wiping a lingering tear off Y/n's cheek.

"Y/n, my name is Erik."

Small talk lasted for a few more hours until the sun started to rise.

All members of the Opera house were called to the outside of the Inn where Monsieur André and Firmin would enlighten them of the situation.

Monsieur André took the lead standing ontop of the inn balcony.

"Listen all! I'm afraid we have terrible news you will all now be let go from the Opera house!"

A sudden uproar of voices filled the street and Y/n felt my body wobble a little from shock. Erik stood beside her with his hand on the small of my back trying to stabilize her.

Monsieur Firmin then took the lead and explained:

"This was a terrible tragedy! And with the business in shambles we have no hope of reviving it, thanks to our generous sponsor, Viscount Raoul de Chagny, we will be giving out warm clothes to help with your resignation."

They both quickly scurry out of view back into the inn, likely out the back door leaving the crowd in shock and anger.

Y/n bit her lip feeling another wave of sadness overcome her. Quick breathing and a pounding heart for the unknown future that lied before her.

"Fools!" She hears Erik mumble under his breath.

"We must go quickly!" he said grabbing her hand and pulling her through the crowd to the front.

They got their clothes, thanks to Erik for getting them there early enough to take a few extra pieces of clothes.

Even with a wounded leg, Erik managed to take them to a proper alleyway to get dressed in the clothing.

He dressed first, then stood at the front of the ally to let Y/n get dressed keeping a look out.

A gentleman walked by peeping into the alleyway, but Erik growled loudly and with his burnt face scared the gentleman away.

"I'm done!"

Y/n smiled walking out with the costume she wore neatly folded in her arms.

Erik seemed to smile at her for a very small second then it quickly fell away, he brought his palm to cover his face.

"May I?"

He looked at Y/n confused until she gently took his hand and pulled it away.

"This might not be as good as Aloïs's handy work."

She looked down at her costume before quickly ripping off a piece of the skirt. She used the edges to tie it delicately around the side of his face tracing over it.

"You shouldn't have to hide! People are children! Gasping at the first strange thing they see." Y/n declared.

Erik chuckles but only for a second before going back into a smile.

"Perhaps."

He offers his arm which Y/n gladly took. They walked out into the crowded streets.

The sights were great and all the small shops and children seemed so foreign to her. In the Opera house they only had wooden or stone walls with the occasional windows high up in the building. The space of an open sky and streets going as far as the eye could see was a breath of fresh air.

A few hours later, Y/n suddenly realized that neither Erik or herself currently had a place to live, she have no living family to rely on.

Walking around the city for the first time in years distracted her from the dormant thoughts about the trouble we were in.

She looked back at Erik ready to ask him if he has a plan, but his eyes were sparkling. He was bewildered and intrigued by buildings, people, sounds and other sights. Y/n was starting to wonder if he'd ever been outside the Opera.

She felt a smile spread across her face from the warmth radiating off Erik.

"Erik, have you never-"

"Hello little mis!" a voice from behind her.

Three men quickly surrounded them and Y/n felt her body shrink into fear. Her lack of outside experience made her forget about the rats lurking around the city.

"Well, well! Give us a smile! How much?"

Y/n felt one of the bigger men behind her run his hand down her back.

She jump forward from his touch ready defend herself however, Erik pinched her arm tightly between his bicep and torso.

Y/n looked up at him and noticed the grimace clenching of his teeth.

"Now, this is unfortunate, just as I was starting to enjoy the outside." Erik fumed.

The man reaches for Y/n's behind again but this time Erik uses a closed fist to swing right into the man's nose.

He pushed Y/n off to the side, just hard enough for her to delicately hit the wall. She watched while this night old acquaintance fights off three large men with a bit of wood he swooped off the ground.

Using it to jab into the first mans forearm and then kneeing him in the groin.

Erik kicks the second man in the side, and to their luck, the third starts running. Finally all three run at the first sight of blood.

Erik breathes heavily before dropping to a knee with a loud grunt,clutching his injured leg from the fire.

"Erik!" Y/n ran to his side and wormed her arm underneath his arm and around his torso.

"We have to leave before they bring friends." Y/n stammered.

Her eyes dart around to land on a Inn with a tavern at the ground floor. The sun was setting again so soon and the candles of the tavern were lit.

She walked with Erik and quickly made their way inside to set Erik down in the corner of the tavern by a table.

"Oi!" The barkeep yells at us.

"Out!! You don't have no money!"

Looking at their clothes Y/n understood exactly how he knew we had no money to spend.

"Please! This man is injured, we need-"

He interrupts Y/n again.

"No money, no service! Out!"

Y/n bit her lip hard, thinking of anything to pay this man until she got a small shred of an idea.

"I dance!"

This makes the barkeep stop and look back at them. He leaned against the bar and waited.

Y/n realized he wanted an example before she swallowed the lump of pride in her throat.

She slowly pulled her coat off revealing a very inexpensive dress they received from the Managers.

Low cut to account for all bust sizes and too long skirt for all heights of woman in the Opera house. Throwing the coat over Erik she leaned close to his ear to whisper.

"Hold on, I'll get more help and medicine for that leg."

He groans grabbing Y/n's arm, objecting to what he knew she'd do. She felt her heart want to cry at his genuine worry for her pride. She gently lifts his hand off before turning back to the bar keep.

She looked down at her skirt before lifting it and tieing it into a knot showing just above her knees.

The musician with a pocket fiddle in the corner starts playing a rhythmic song and patrons start coming in.

Y/n puts on the best smile she could muster before starting to move her legs and hips.

Y/n felt the gazes of every drunken basted, but worst of all, she felt Erik watching her. Intrigued or Disgusted? She wasn't sure. She hoped for the latter. It was the better of the two.

Moving her hand over a rich looking patrons shoulders before spinning to the bar and smiling at another gentleman.

For what felt like forever, Y/n danced following each rhythm of each song played.

Getting a small tip from some patrons before she stopped and leaned against the bar.

Out of breath with her chest moving up and down rapidly. Another song had ended. She wasn't sure how much longer she could continue, her legs burnt from no warm up before hand like she knew she had to.

The barkeep, more likely the owner of the inn, pushed a glass of water toward her.

"Well done girl! We haven't had this many patrons in a while."

He praised but Y/n growled and reached out to him with an open palm.

"I did my part, I need payment."

The barkeep looks disgusted and Y/n was afraid for a moment he would refuse her payment. Thankfully he reached into his apron pocket and gave her a good hand full of coins.

Before she could pull her hand back he grabbed her wrist and smirked.

"Come back, with a better attitude, and you can make twice as much."

Y/n gritted her teeth looking away knowing its a large possibility she'd need to come back for more payment.

She pulled her wrist back then ran to where she'd left Erik only to spot him with an angry expression.

"Erik?"

She knew it, he was disgusted! She hesitated in front of him. He only managed to lean forward and pull the knot out of her skirt letting it cover her legs again.

He looks away but patted on the seat beside him. Y/n felt her body once again shrink in on itself as she sat beside him.

She took this opportunity to count the coins and realized they had enough to rent a room for the night and for her to go buy bandages and medicine.

Once they were in the room she felt a very strange hole in her heart, she felt like she'd betrayed him. She was sure he'd leave the next chance he got. She basically did what he'd tried to prevent in the first place.

She sat on the bed facing away while Erik used this time to wash up in the wash room and apply the medicine and bandages himself.

"Y/n."

His voice stood out from the muffled cheers downstairs.

His hand traveled to Y/n's and he sat beside her on the bed.

"I'm sorry."

Those small words made Y/n breath a sigh of relief before she felt his arms wrap her into a hug.

She'd never cried in front of anyone or at least she tried to avoid it as much she could, so how is it possible for this man to have seen her cry twice.

His chin rested on her head as she sobbed. It felt like she would never stop. Until Erik started humming. A soft but familiar tune. A song from the Opera house used in one of the famous plays.

It was beautiful, an angel of music. A voice she didn't know she longed to hear. In sleep he sang to her, and in dreams he he came.

Y/n slowly calmed her sobs before her body fell into a limp sleep and exhaustion.

Erik smiled before slowly laying her onto the bed, however she was clenched onto his shirt so tightly, Erik gave in and layed with her on the bed.

He looked at her calm face wondering how she was able to remain so strong though everything, even taking care of him aswell as herself.

Feeling his heartbeat similarly to the first time it did when he saw Christine. He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and slowly pulled her into his chest, keeping her covered from all the worldly wrongs.

[dreamscribee]

💎The Season's Diamond💎

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚

ʚɞ Anthony Bridgerton x female reader

ʚɞ PART 2 and PART 3

ʚɞ Summary: Amidst preparations for the Queen's ball where the season's Diamond will be chosen, Lady Y/N Dalton navigates her feelings for her close friend Anthony. As plans and secrets unfold with the help of the Bridgerton family, Y/N faces a transformative evening that could determine her future.

ʚɞ Word Count: 530 (Words), 3,158 (characters)

ʚɞ Warning: This ends with a cliffhanger, more parts will come.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.

At the bustling French boutique Modiste, Madame Delacroix flitted around you, pinning and tucking the fabric of a gown that shimmered like the morning dew. The air was filled with the scent of fresh silks and the soft murmur of anticipation. Lady Bridgerton, standing by your mother, was deep in conversation, plotting with a fervor only matched by their desire to see you named the Diamond of the season.

"You truly have an eye for elegance, Y/N," Lady Bridgerton praised, watching you twirl gently in your nearly finished gown. "This shade of blue not only complements your eyes but also sets you apart in any crowd. The Queen herself will be enchanted, I dare say."

Your mother nodded in agreement, her eyes gleaming with pride. "Indeed, Violet. With this gown and the right presentation at the ball, Y/N will outshine all. We must consider every detail meticulously."

As plans were laid and laughter shared, the evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows through the windows of the Bridgerton estate where dinner awaited. You felt a flutter of excitement, not just for the ball but for the chance to spend more time with Anthony, whose earlier attentions had left your heart racing.

Dinner was a lively affair at the Bridgerton household, filled with boisterous talk and the clinking of silverware. Anthony sat across from you, his gaze often lingering longer than was customary, filled with an unspoken question. Every smile, every glance sent a thrill of wonder through your heart about his true feelings.

As dessert was served—a delightful array of sweets that only added to the evening’s indulgence—Anthony cleared his throat, capturing the attention of everyone at the table.

"Lady Dalton, Y/N," he began, his voice steady but imbued with a warmth that made your pulse quicken, "I have been considering the upcoming ball and the Queen’s selection of the Diamond. While we all hope for the best, I believe Y/N’s brilliance is evident to all, regardless of titles or accolades bestowed."

You blushed, heart pounding, as murmurs of agreement circled the table.

Anthony continued, "In fact, I would like to propose a toast." He raised his glass, his eyes locking with yours. "To Y/N, whose grace and beauty surpass any jewel in the Queen's crown. May she always shine as brightly as she does tonight."

Glasses clinked in unison, and cheers filled the room. Your eyes met Anthony’s, and in that moment, you sensed the depth of his regard, something perhaps deeper than mere friendship. But before you could ponder it further, Lady Bridgerton leaned in, her voice low and conspiratorial.

"And now, my dear, we have a surprise for you tomorrow that might just tip the scales in our favor for the Queen’s decision," she whispered, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

Your heart skipped a beat, curiosity piqued. "What kind of surprise?"

"You shall see," Lady Bridgerton replied, the mystery lingering in the air as dinner concluded and the evening waned. You were left wondering about Anthony’s lingering looks and the impending surprise, your mind a whirl of possibilities as the night drew to a close, setting the stage for an unforgettable day to come.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿

Just binged Bridgerton in prep for Season 3 and now I'm basically an expert on all things Anthony 🎩✨. Brace yourselves for a deluge of Bridgerton bros content - it's about to get regal up in here! 🍿👑 #TheViscountWhoLovedMe #MoreBridgertonBrosPlease

[vivalarevolution]

𝓥𝓲𝓼𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽'𝓼 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮

Viscount Aemond Targaryen x Curvy Stark Reader

Summary: She had never seen Viscount Targaryen , nor she ever exchanged a word with him. But that changed one evening, after which the man unexpectedly began to appear everywhere she looked , not letting her mind forget him. Even for a moment.

A/N: I'll admit I had a lot of fun creating the whole idea, mainly because a lot of inspiration was taken from the Bridgertons as well as from Pride and Prejudice, but I think the title explains it all. I can only hope you will like it as much as I do and you will enjoy reading it.

Please remember that english is not my native language and mistakes can happen.

Work contains smut.

Viscount Aemond Targaryen. A man known to few. With a mystery hidden behind his lavender eye, with a hair color of the December snow and a face cold and sharp like a stone.

He radiated both seriousness and arrogance, and with every word he spoke there was a sense of crude indifference to all those he considered unworthy of his presence.

And yet , despite all this , despite his status and sense of superiority , he stood here, stood and looked at the woman he couldn't have.

Her skin looked as soft to the touch as the most expensive velvet , her hair smooth and glistening , were pinned up and styled , highlighting her face , which was adorned with full , kissable lips and rosy cheeks. Her curvy body hidden behind the material of an expensive dark purple dress left little to the imagination , letting his eye and mind feast.

But whenever he tried to force her to level gazes with him her eyes seemed to run away from him. She never submitted to him. Instead, she chose to hide from the man, which made him want to hunt her, suddenly being more determined than ever in his life. And just as he was about to seize her , trapping her in the snare of his long arms , a female hand grabbed his shoulder, halting his movements.

-Mother - he said through a clenched jaw, looking at the older woman out of the corner of his eye.

-Where are you going Aemond? - she asked , wrinkling her eyebrows in consternation -Your betrothed has just arrived , don't keep her waiting - she confessed , shifting her gaze towards Floris Baratheon , who was standing at the other end of the ballroom.

-There are matters , which I must attend to. Immediately - he replied in a controlled and cool tone of voice, gently pushing his mother's hand away , leaving her before she could stop him physically or verbally.

His steps, like himself, were full of control and composure without betraying his true intentions even for a moment. Intentions that were able to crush him under the weight of future consequences, which, despite everything, seemed of little importance to the viscount ,especially when he finally found the mysterious woman who has clouded his senses with her mere presence.

She stood on the balcony , gazing at the night sky , letting the moon illuminate her immaculate face , giving her person an almost angelic glow.

But when Aemond crossed the threshold , placing his foot on the marble slab , the stranger's gaze almost immediately turned in his direction , finally allowing him to drown in the depths of her eyes , which looked at him with intrigue as well as a shadow of irritation.

-Who are you? - she asked , looking for an answer in the features of his face , unfortunately unsuccessfully.

-I should ask you the same question Miss- he stated , walking slowly towards her.

-And yet it was not I who burned the imprint of my eyes on the stranger's body - remarked the young woman , turning fully toward the viscount , now facing him -You did sir. And now you have decided to follow me.

-I did not follow you - he replied , placing his large hand on the stone railing , giving her a feeling of almost being trapped , by how close he was to her now - The truth is that I tried to find you.

-Since you have achieved this goal , what more do you want? - she asked almost in a whisper , studying his face , which was decorated with a long scar and a sapphire in place of the left eye.

-Your name. I want to know it- he said as quietly as she did , bringing his face closer to hers.

The air around them suddenly seemed to become hotter and heavier.

-I will tell it to you…if you tell me yours sir- she replied ,breathlessly , not knowing why.

-Aemond Targaryen - he said almost immediately wanting to know the name of the stranger, who with each passing second made him forget about the bride that waited for him downstairs.

-You're a viscount - she pointed out, placing her hand on his chest to create a previously non-existent distance between them.

Aemond furrowed his brow and took her wrist in his palm , feeling her quickening pulse under his fingertips.

-Are you worried that someone will see you with me? - he asked her with a shadow of amusement on his face.

-I'm worried about what a man like you wants from me , when he is about to marry one of Borros Baratheon's daughters - she stated , stepping away from the stone balustrade , forcing the viscount to let go of her hand.

-I simply wish to learn your name - he answered , repeating his earlier words.

-Y/n Stark - she said , finally revealing her identity, causing a satisfied smile to appear on the viscount's face, which disappeared as quickly as it appeared as she continued - Now if you'll allow me, I'll go my way and you go yours, and we'll act like this encounter never took place.

-Your secrets are safe with me , I assure you Miss - he reassured in a serious tone.

The woman's gaze fled from him for a brief second, as if she needed to think deeply about something. After a moment she shifted her gaze back to him, looking into his violet eye with stoic face.

-Goodnight lord Targaryen - she said before she left the man, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

When the silhouette of the woman disappeared , he wanted to follow her , but stopped himself , turning his gaze in the opposite direction. Yet he could no longer focus on anything other than the beautiful female he meet at the ball to celebrate the engagement, his engagement.

And he wasn't the only one.

It seemed that he was everywhere she was. No matter what she did , no matter where she went , his figure always appeared in the corner of her eye. He haunted her mind as much as she haunted his , and despite how much it tormented both of their souls , she kept her distance , running away from him like a game , while he was the hunter , hunting her. With each of their encounters being closer and closer to catching her.

Until finally there was nowhere to run , nowhere to hide. The only thing left was confrontation.

They met again at the ball , in the same place where their eyes first met , the first time they heard each other , the first time they touched each other's skin.

But this time the man wasn't alone.

Floris Baratheon held on to his arm , smiling shyly at the people who were watching the viscount and future viscountess.

And Y/n was one of them. Her eyes stared at them with a shadow of longing , that the young woman did not even try to hide.

-Are you all right sister? - asked her older brother, standing by her side since the beginning of the ball , watching her closely.

-Yes , yes - she whispered , turning her gaze toward the man, -I just need to get some fresh air.

Cregan sent her a concerned look but did not stop her , silently watching as she left the residence in a haste.

Her breathing seemed to become heavier by the minute , and her footsteps got more and more aggressive.

The realization of what was happening to her began to sink inside her brain. Miss Y/n Stark had fallen in love with a man who belonged to another.

And if fate hadn't mocked her enough , the bane of her existence appeared when all she wanted was to forget.

-Miss Stark - Aemond greeted her , standing still as she turned to face him.

-Viscount Targaryen - she replied , with distress in her tone -Why are you here?

-I saw you leave in a hurry - he explained , scanning her face, which had a grimace of fatigue on it -I wanted to make sure you were okay.

-Why? - she asked , frowning her eyebrows -Why you do this when your betrothed is inside , waiting for you. Why do you do all this? These unexpected encounters , fleeting glances. Why my lord?

The man suddenly appeared by her side. He was so close that their breaths mingled and there lips almost touched.

-Because I care about you - he confessed with seriousness in his voice , looking hard into her eyes.

-You don't know me. And I don't know you - the woman said , stubbornly trying to push away the viscount , but in vain - We can't love each other , we can't.

-And yet, despite your proclaims , I can no longer eat , I can no longer sleep , I can no longer breathe without letting you consume my every thought - he proclaimed , capturing her cheek in his large hand -You haunt me in my dreams , you haunt me during the day , you haunt me when I'm with my family , you haunt me when I look directly into the eyes of my betrothed - he growled , brushing her ear with his lips -You can deny it , but at least don't make me do it , don't make me continue to suffer without you by my side.

Y/n felt as if something had possessed her.

His words made her finally forget, but unfortunately not about him, but about the outside world that was so close to them, almost at her fingertips.

She let the viscount finally taste her full pink lips, embraced her wide hips in his rough hands, and dragged her to the carriage standing just behind them, locking them inside. The interior of it suddenly seemed so small , as their bodies pressed against each other.

His palms, large and warm, touched her in places that were forbidden to him, but in his movements there was not a shred of thought about the later consequences, only uncontrollable lust.

-From the moment our eyes met, I knew that I had to possess you, that I had to make you mine - he whispered into her neck, gliding his nose over her pulse, brushing the skin of her neck with his tongue again and again, leaving wet marks behind.

The woman moaned quietly in response , closing her eyes and tilting her head , making herself putty in his hands , which he took advantage of by pushing her onto the seat ,kneeling himself on the floor of the carriage , with his large hands running over the white material of her dress , therefore revealing the smooth skin of her legs , which he sensually kissed, leaving an electrifying sensation that caused her to shiver.

Her eyes closed involuntarily when the viscount's lips found their way to her heated and moist inner thighs , while his fingers melted into her firm bum , lifting her curvy body so her ankles could fell on the man's broad shoulders.

His teeth found their place on the woman's undergarments, tearing them in one strong movement, which caused the cold air to hit her sensitive womanhood, that trembled under the sudden change of temperature.

-Aemond - she whispered , calling him by name for the first time - What are you doing? - she asked, looking down.

-I want to taste you - he muttered , kissing her ankle - I wonder if you taste as sweet as your lips do - he said , slowly pulling up her long gown , so that nothing would block his view of the woman before him.

Before Y/n could respond to his words , his tongue touched her swollen clit , swirling it around the pink pearl , making her uncontrollably thrust her pelvis forward , imprisoning the man in the softness of her thick thighs.

Aemond , in response , growled , clamping his hands on her firm flesh , drawing her impossibly closer , feasting. His mouth explored her femininity , kissing and licking every part , leaving nothing without his attention . He was bestial , greedily drinking her juices , which tasted like the sweetest dessert of his life , as his eyes stared at the woman in front of him , who was consumed by convulsions of pleasure that tore their way through her body , making it burst into flames that consumed her mind.

The viscount watched with delight as she broke under her first orgasm of the night, licking everything she gave him , feeling under his fingertips how her muscles went limp , and seeing how her eyes became clouded by uncontrollable desire.

-Aemond - she said breathlessly , desperately grabbing his jaw , trying to pull him close to her.

-What is it my sweet? - he asked , purring like a cat.

-Please…please…make love to me, Aemond - she begged, brushing her lips against his, tasting herself on them, combing her fingers between strands of his white hair.

In response, the man embraced her curvy body , securing it in his strong arms , positioning the lovers so that this time he was resting on the seat , placing Miss Stark on his legs , immediately proceeding to assault her neck with slow kisses, while his hands crept to her throbbing entrance , which was waiting for him , embracing him tightly as he inserted two fingers into her , sensually moving them.

-So warm and tight - he muttered into her ear , biting its lobe - Full of desperation and need.

-Don't make me wait…I beg you…I can't stand it - she whimpered , burying her face in the hollow of his neck.

Viscount took her flushed cheek in his hand , making her look at him while his other hand skillfully unbuttoned his black pants , freeing his thick and long member , which he directed at her wet entry , entering her slowly and carefully , looking deeply into her eyes.

She felt like she could feel him in her throat. He rammed her insides , mixing the feeling of pain with pleasure , spreading it from the top of her head to her toes. She moaned, whimpered and mewled, letting him move her as he pleased, making her see stars. His member was hitting sensitive places that were never known by her, making her walls clench tighter and tighter against him.

The second orgasm that overtook her body felt overwhelming , yet he kept moving, wanting to feel the sensation of her thight walls clenching onto him for as long as possible, before he did what he wanted from the moment he saw her. He maked her his.

Y/n moaned softly, feeling the sudden heat that poured from inside of her , right between her wet and sticky thighs. Holding the viscount by the neck, she pulled him even closer, snuggling into his muscular body.

Everything seemed to quiet down around them. The windows of the carriage fogged up through their passionate act , and the air became hot and suffocating. However, they did not care , they were too busy melting into each other's embrace.

But this changed when she heard his words , whispered directly into her ear.

Will you marry me , miss Stark?

[blakeswritingimagines]

Dating Yandere Anthony Bridgeton Would Include:

Anthony Bridgerton would be a very protective type of yandere. He’d be the type to have the “you’re mine and I will keep you all mine by any means necessary.” He’d be very jealous, clingy, possessive, and overprotective. He’d want to know where you are at all times, making sure you’re not seeing or talking to any other guys. He’d constantly want to be with you and touch you, wanting to mark his territory so others know you’re his.

He would be very controlling as well. He’d want to know where you are, who you’re with, and what you’re doing at all times. He’d also want to control what you wear and how you interact with others, especially other guys. He’d be very strict about your behavior and appearance, he’d want you to be completely obedient and compliant to him. He’d be very jealous and possessive of you, wanting to make sure that no one gets too close to you and no one can take you away from him.

He’d always want to be with you, holding you close, touching you. He’d want you to be reliant on him too for almost everything. He’d probably want you to stay home all the time so no one can get close to you. He’d shower you with gifts, spoiling you so that you don’t want to leave him. He would make it very clear that you were all his at home and in public. He wouldn’t allow anyone else to touch you. He’d keep his arm around and never leave your side.

He’d be the type who would want your full attention all the time, needing to be assured that you are completely loyal to him. If he suspects you have any feelings toward another man, he’d be quick to step in and make it known that you’re his. He’d want to constantly be touching you, whether it’s holding your hand or having his arm around you. He’d want to mark you as his, leaving hickeys and bite marks on your neck and body.

Anthony would also be the type who would want to know what you’re doing at all times. He’d likely track your phone and have a few cameras set up in places you frequent, just to keep an eye on you. He’d be very wary of any male friends or acquaintances you have and wouldn’t want you spending any time with them at all. He’d be extremely jealous and possessive, keeping an eye on your every move. He’d want to be the only man in your life, and anyone who dared to try and come between you and him would be met with his wrath.

He’d have a low tolerance for you being away from him and get very impatient/irritated if he can’t see you when he wants to. He’d want you all to himself to the point of isolating you. He wouldn’t want other guys looking at you or flirting with you, and he’d get extremely angry if someone were to touch you. He’d constantly need reassurance that you’re completely his, and there will be no one else for you. He’d demand your full attention and would not tolerate anything or anyone who takes it away from him. 

He’d also likely want to keep you close at night too, most likely wanting you to sleep in his bed every night. He’d probably want to hold you while you sleep, wanting to be close to you and feel your body against his. He’d be very wary about letting you go somewhere alone, wanting to either go with you or send one of his brothers to follow you and make sure nobody else bothers you.

He’d probably want to know the details of your past relationships too. He’d likely ask lots of questions about who you’ve dated in the past and how far you went with them. He may compare himself to them and want to ensure he’s the best man you’ve ever been with. He’d likely also want to make sure you never reconnect with any ex-boyfriends and would keep an eye on them to make sure they don’t contact you.

He’d likely want to control your finances, insisting he pays for everything and not wanting you to have your own money. He’d want to choose what you eat, drink, and wear. He may also get angry and jealous if he sees you in a conversation with another, no matter how innocent or friendly it may be. He would not allow others to touch you.

He’d likely be very demanding and controlling, expecting you to do as he says and be obedient to his rules. If you disobeyed him or did something he didn’t like, he’d be quick to punish you, whether it’s by withholding attention or physically restraining you. He’d probably want to keep tabs on your communications as well, checking your phone and messages to make sure you’re not getting too close to other men.

As rewards, if you were to be obedient, loyal, and submissive to him, he would likely reward you with affection, praise, and gifts. He may also take you to special dinners or events as a reward for pleasing him. He would probably also give you physical affection, such as hugs and kisses, as a way to show how much he values and appreciates your obedience.

As for dates, Anthony would likely want to take you on extravagant and romantic dates, showing off his wealth and status. He might take you to fancy restaurants, to the theater, or on romantic boat rides. He'd likely also want to make sure you're both dressed to impress, wanting to showcase to others that you're with him. He might also take you to secluded spots, where he can have you all to himself and be romantic and intimate with you.

Anthony would likely be very affectionate, wanting to touch and hold you all the time. He might constantly have his arm around you, holding your hand, or have you sitting on his lap. He would constantly be telling you how much he loves and cares for you, wanting to make sure you know how important you are to him. He might also give you spontaneous kisses or hugs throughout the day, just to show his affection and keep you close to him.

Anthony's family would likely be wary of his behavior towards you at first. They would likely be concerned about the level of possessiveness and control he has over you, as well as the boundaries he's willing to cross to keep you all to himself. But he would likely justify his actions by saying that he’s only doing it because he loves you so much and just wants to keep you safe and his. He would also likely not care about what his family thinks, as long as you are his.

In front of others, Anthony would likely act possessive and protective, wanting to make sure that other people know that you’re his. He might constantly have his arm around you, holding your hand or having you sit on his lap, and would likely be very attentive to your needs and wants. He might also get jealous if he sees you talking to other men, and would likely try to monopolize your attention and keep you close to him. Overall, he’d want to make sure that everyone knows you’re his partner and that you belong to him.

Like with many relationships, Anthony and you would likely have fights and arguments from time to time. However, his yandere tendencies would likely make the fights more intense and emotional. He would likely get very defensive and possessive, not wanting to hear any criticism or feedback from you. He might also try to manipulate or guilt-trip you into believing that you are the one at fault. He may also get very aggressive, raising his voice or trying to physically restrain you.

If someone tried to help you leave, Anthony would likely see it as a direct threat to his relationship with you, which could lead to very explosive outcomes. He would likely become extremely possessive and paranoid, thinking that you were planning on leaving him. He may try to physically restrain whomever it was who was trying to help you, and would likely be very emotional, using guilt-tripping tactics and making you feel bad for betraying him. He might also try to isolate you further, to prevent anyone else from coming between you and him.

As for marriage, Anthony would likely want to marry you sooner rather than later, as he'd want to make sure that you are officially and legally his as soon as possible. He'd likely want a traditional, formal wedding, with all the bells and whistles. Once married, he would likely step up his possessive and protective behavior, seeing the ring on your finger as a symbol of your commitment to him and a way to show other men that you are his. He would likely expect you to be obedient and submissive to him as his wife, and would not tolerate any disobedience or questioning of his authority.

As for having children, Anthony would likely be eager to start a family with you as soon as possible. He would want children to further bond you to him and make sure you would never leave him. He might also want to pass on his bloodline and his family name. Once you have children, he would likely be very protective and possessive of them, not wanting to share them with anyone else and wanting to keep them close to him. He would likely also want a large family and would likely push for you to have as many children as possible.

If you were unable or unwilling to have kids, it would likely cause a lot of tension and conflict in the relationship. Anthony would likely feel very disappointed and frustrated, as having children is likely something he wants very badly. He might try to pressure you to change your mind, using manipulation and guilt-tripping tactics to make you feel bad for denying him what he wants. He might also become very possessive and protective, thinking that you are trying to deny him a part of his life. It could potentially lead to a lot of fights and arguments between the two of you.

“You are mine and mine alone. No one else is allowed to look at you, touch you, speak to you, or even think about you. You belong to me and only me. You are my property, my toy, my obsession.”

High heels - There's something about seeing you walk around in high heels that gets his blood boiling. The thought of bending you over and fucking you hard while you're wearing them is just too tempting to him.

Control - It really gets him going when he can control the situation when he decides how and when it happens. Making the other person do exactly what he wants you to do… whether that's begging for more or crying out in pleasure, he doesn't care. It’s all about him having the power.

Paddling - Nothing beats a good paddling session before or after sex. The sting and the sound of the paddle hitting skin always get him hard as fuck.

Dirty talk - Hearing those naughty words, the filthier the better. Aroused moans, and dirty comments during fucking, that stuff sends him over the edge.

Voice control - Calling out dirty orders and having them obeyed is something that gets him insanely horny. Being vocal about what you want or expect only pushes the intensity through the roof.

[elysianightsss]

Regency Price thot🌹🤍

I am working on Limerence and Part two of both mountain man and the pen pal au by popular demand. But while you wait for me to write those please enjoy this lovely Viscount John Price and his Viscountess.

Price sat waiting patiently, newspaper in hands reading the latest gossip of the ton. “Aristocrats.” He scoffed low under his breath. Being one of the wealthiest, best-connected members of the middle class came with privileges but too much gossip as far a Price was concerned. Unless it directly affected him he couldn’t care less.

The doors to the dining room opened and in walked a butler, white curly wig on top of his head, his hands wringing together in nervousness as he looked at his master. “Well?” Price asked without looking away from his newspaper, an interesting snippet about a whistle or a lady down or something or other caught his eye.

“My Lord she..” the lack of answer was beginning to agitate him, he rolled up the paper and slammed it on the table, finally making eye contact with the butler.

“What?” Price snapped.

“She doesn’t seem to be here My Lord.” He said, gulping with unease clear in his voice.

“One of the horses is gone too.” A maid had said a little too loudly as she rushed into the room with the important information. Everyone in the room cringed, each and every servent, perhaps at this point even the entire ton, knows if the Viscountess and one of the horses are missing, someone will either be fired or end up in the hospital.

A wave a darkness crashed through the room as John growled out “Find me who by the time I’m back from retrieving my wife.” His orders were clear as crystal as he rushed from the room, Simon, his number two following swiftly after him.

“My horse Simon.” John grunted pulling out his pocket watch from his jacket. After years of being married to you, he always knew exactly where to find you based on the time of day it was or day of the week.

You thrived in order and schedules, one of the many things that he loved about you. Loved knowing he didn’t have to worry where you’d be at eleven in the morning. Always the drawing room catching up the on stitching you’ve been putting off, frustrated when the cross stitch didn’t form the absolute way you wanted it to.

Simon, ever the loyal to a fault number two replied quickly and lowly, “Yes Viscount.” He began to rush ahead of John making it to the stables before him and barking orders at the stable boys to fetch the masters horse and saddle. Price didn’t bother with riding clothes or shoes, simply latching his everyday boot into the stirrup and hoisting himself up into his horse.

“Shall I follow My Lord?” Simon asked head bowed as usual.

“If you wish.” John didn’t stick around after that, whipping his reigns and taking off on the beautiful brown stallion. “Come on boy, we’ve not got long before it rains!” John shouted to his horse as if the creature actually understood him, though in his fear he did not care.

The looks of the sky had him worried, the last time you went riding in the rain you caught pneumonia. He remembers how you shivered, how you were covered in sweat yet cold and how you burned to the touch. He never wishes to see you that way again. These thoughts had him pushing his horse harder to get to you faster. By the cherry tree you should be, and oh does he hope you are.

You however had just become done with your rage fit and were about to leave. Stupid Miss Carmichael, one of the bitchiest women in the ton. Not even married and yet she had the gall to mock you about not getting around to giving John a child yet. Joking about possible infertility, the words made you sick as did her audacity.

You had been married to your husband two years now and yes you were yet to bore him a child. Though the first year of your marriage, due to it being a simple arrangement, you spent it away from him. Always avoiding him, even on your wedding night you locked yourself in your room.

Though finally he managed to get you to open up to him, taught you many things, you began to love him. He had loved you however since the first moment he saw you. More so when you had advertently put him in his place after he was rude to a servant.

You had spent the second year, still getting to know each other and becoming one as husband and wife didn’t happen until three months ago. It had been essentially two years of little innocent hand touches here and there, longing looks and John standing too close to you at balls and events just so he could feel your warmth and smell your scent for longer. You were both still making up for lost time, having children was not at the forefront of your minds. Well not yours anyway.

You sighed glancing at the horse you’d rode here on, you’d best get back to join John for breakfast was your first thought. Even though it would take barely a minute for him to see you were upset and demand who had made you that way. You didn’t need to put your burden on him as much as he always insisted that’s exactly what you’re supposed to do as his wife.

Blinking up at the sky, you saw rain clouds rolling in and started to feel the drizzle of water falling down from above. Then a clap of thunder and you instantly regretted your decision to ride out here after your awful interaction with Miss Carmichael earlier. “Wonderful.” You sighed annoyed as you pulled your cloak hood over your head and made your way back to the black horse waiting patiently for you. One last look at the cherry tree and you set off into the eye of the storm.

“That’s it girl yah!” You whipped your reigns, both feet tight in the stirrups. You never rode side saddle like most women do, preferring to ride properly. Just as the cherry tree was almost out of a view, the most spectacular sight came bounding toward you. Your husband Viscount John Price gallantly riding his brown steed toward you.

“Darling!” His yell was so quiet in the midst of the rain and thunder, though it was enough to have you stopping your horse and remaining stationary as he began to slow down the closer to you he got.

Pulling on the reigns John came to a halt, horses next to one another legs touching. “Before you say anything,” you began blinking up at your handsome husband who was staring down at you heatedly, he nods encouraging you to go on. “It wasn’t raining when I started riding.”

You give him a smile, and despite the fact that you’re wet through, chilled to the bone, and as far as John is concerned in desperate need of a hot bath, he thinks you’re the most beautiful sight to behold. He smiles back leaning in close to you until his nose brushes against yours, his strong hand coming up to cup your jaw as he whispers into your mouth, looking you dead in the eyes.

“I’m not mad my love, but make no mistake, once you’re warm and dry I plan to bend you over my desk and fuck you from behind. Keep you stuffed with my cum all day, then you can tell me the reason for your riding today and who I need to talk to.”

[quillsandcravats]

— springtime at Aubrey Hall with Anthony

♡ do not repost/use as your own.

[taevjim]

Romancing the Viscount (m) 18+

♞ ♞

-Disclaimer: This AU is inspired by Bridgerton. I do realize a viscount is a British nobleman, but for the sake of the AU, we are going to use our imagination xoxo

♞ ♞

-Summary: For three seasons now, you had yet to have any marriage proposals under your belt. It was depressing to say the least. You have come into society as a blossomed young woman, ready for marriage, but no man of the ton has seemed the slightest bit interested in you. You’re on year three of being let off your leash into society and the pressure was certainly on for you to find a husband. You were beautiful, charming, and had incredible wit; anyone would be dying to have your hand in marriage. What could possibly be taking so long? Perhaps a viscount has had his eyes set on you all along and he’s the reason you have yet to be wed.

-Pairing: viscount!jungkook x female reader

-Genre: smut, smut, and more smut.

♞ ♞ ♞

The day started off fairly promising with the pure energy that radiated from you as you rose from the cotton sheets which kept you company at night, aiding you a good night’s rest. Your feet touch the cold floor and you spring to action as you skip across your room, your baby blue night gown trailing through the air behind you at your rushed pace. Excitement crept through your bones down to your core with the thought of tonight’s seasonal ball. Of course you had plenty of balls to attend to throughout the season, but the first ball of the season was always the most important, as well as the most promising.

Although you were gleaming with excitement, you couldn’t help but feel a little nervous as well. Maybe even a bit discouraged. This would be your third season out into society and you couldn’t help but wonder if you would find the man of your dreams in the near future. A girl can only hope. Many young women have had no problems snagging a husband on their FIRST year of their debut into society, so what could you be doing wrong? Surely there was nothing wrong with you, at-least you didn’t think there was.

Your reflection in the vanity mirror stares back at you as you run your nimble fingers across the soft, supple flesh of your cheek.

“Is it my looks?” You ask yourself, barely above a whisper.

The characteristics of your looks were actually quite simple. You had rather large, round eyes with perfectly curled lashes to frame the lids. A cute button nose and incredibly soft cheeks which always seemed to have a hint of pink undertones to your rather fair complexion. You were also adorned with an exceptionally full figure, making you curvy in all the right places. Never mind the fact that these characteristics didn’t exactly make you unique; you were still deemed one of the most beautiful women of the ton.

Yet, still no husband.

Perhaps you were beginning to feel a bit impatient. Of course you were. What were you to do if you go through yet another season with no man on your arm? God forbid you end up as a spinster, which might be your fate if you don’t find any eligible bachelors soon.

There were quite a few bachelors who you have set your endearing gaze upon, but unfortunately none of them have ever given you more than just a couple of minutes of sub par conversation. With questions ranging from the weather to who you think the queen’s next ‘Diamond’ will be. You’re always polite and proper, speaking with purpose and clarity. You’ve never seemed to have trouble charming your way through a crowd. You’ll never understand what the hold up could be.

Surely you should’ve at-least had ONE proposal by now, but as luck has it, it’s not necessarily on your side as of late.

Your maid rushes through the double doors of your chambers, preparing to wake you before her eyes land on you across the room while you sit at your vanity.

“Well you’re up quite early, I see.” She smiles and strides over to open the curtains to the windows, letting in the bright rays of sunlight into the four walls of your bedroom.

“Today is the first official day of the season. If I’m going to find a husband, I need to make sure I am on my toes at all times and prepared for anything,” you say as you gently pat a small dab of foundation into your skin.

Dana, your maid, gives an approving nod and walks over to begin taking the pins from your hair, allowing your curls to bounce out from their confinements and take their place down the slope of your back. You made sure to pin your hair in rollers the night before so that you could have the most perfect curls. She begins running her fingers through the softness of your locks, carefully moving the pieces of hair into their rightful positions.

Effortlessly beautiful. Exactly the look you were going for.

You put the finishing touches onto your makeup, having gone for a subtle natural appearance, and stand to finally begin ridding yourself of your nightgown.

“You’re going to do just fine this season,” Dana says as she helps you into your corset. “Don’t forget that you are absolutely gorgeous.”

The corners of your lips raise at her compliment and you turn to her with your hands clutching your chest. “You’re too kind. I appreciate the work you put into making me look so good.”

She lets out a giggle and slightly shakes her head, the front two pieces of her baby hairs swinging at the sudden movement. “Don’t be silly,” she begins, “You already have all the right qualities.” Her words pierce into your mind, almost reminding you that you should have nothing to worry about.

Almost.

She helps you into a simple baby pink gown that seems to hug your curves in all the right places. The corset is definitely working wonders on you, not that you needed to rely on it too terribly. You grab a scarf and carefully drape it behind your shoulders and across your forearms, deeming yourself ready for the day.

First stop was to go by the modiste for a fitting of your dress you would be wearing for tonight’s ball. You wanted to make sure everything would be perfect for tonight, which would hopefully grant you the success you’ve been chasing since two seasons ago.

As hoped but also a bit expected, your fitting goes by swimmingly. Madam Claire, the most trusted modiste within miles, did an exceptional job on capturing exactly what you envisioned for your gown. It was a dark blue with a suede bodice and sleeves made of silk, enveloping your arms all the way down to your small but perfectly manicured hands. The bottom portion of your dress was also silk and although it was slightly puffy, it was still quite slimming, small crystals adorned the fabric across the entirety of the material.

It was absolutely breathtaking.

“Oh Claire,” you gush as you do a 360 spin, your eyes only leaving your reflection in the mirror for not even half a second, “It’s everything I’ve imagined. If I do happen to be blessed to become a bride this season it’ll surely all be thanks to you.”

A slight blush creeps onto her tanned cheeks and she playfully waves a hand at you, “Oh stop it. This dress wouldn’t even look half as good if it weren’t you who were wearing it.”

The smile never leaves your face as you embrace her into a quick, but comforting hug. “Thank you so much Claire. You’re the absolute best,” you thank her and quickly undress to change back into your previous dress.

You decide to pass a bit of time as you make your way back down the street, finding a bench up ahead to sit and catch up a bit on your new book. You quite liked reading. The way words can be put together to create something beautiful was a talent that would always be incredibly admired by you. It was the way that it didn’t matter where you were, for once you picked up your book and started reading, you could imagine yourself being there in the story. Almost as if the words came alive right before your eyes.

You’ve been told by a countless number of mamas of the ton that the reason you didn’t have a husband yet was because of the fact you couldn’t keep your nose out of a book. Often being told not to “taint yourself” with such a boring and time consuming activity.

However, that never stopped you from opening a book and becoming one with the words on the page. It was like it was an addiction. An addiction you never wanted to ween yourself off of. People didn’t seem to understand the want of a woman to read, but you were never confused with the activity. You simply enjoyed it. You had even taken up quite a hobby of your own by writing in your journal every other night, explaining in utter detail of what you wanted most out of this life. Perhaps writing it down on paper helped give you the hope of it actually becoming true.

Your attention was suddenly torn away from your book as you lift your head to the sounds of women giggling a bit too loud for your liking across the street.

A group of four women stand before a man as they flutter their lashes and wave their fans inches away from their bosoms. The man in question was none other than Viscount Jeon.

He was a man of great fortune and even greater integrity. His confidence radiating from him like fumes from a flame as he chuckled at the flirting women. Viscount Jeon was definitely the man every young woman wanted on their arm, regardless of his reputation being a class A rake. Not to mention, he was drop dead gorgeous.

From where you sat, you slightly saw his side profile, and boy was it a sight. Of course you’ve seen the Viscount plenty of times, mainly at a ball being thrown, but sometimes around the square. It wasn’t hard to admit that you would never get tired of seeing him. His shoulders looked deliciously broad from where you were sitting and you quickly realized your interest for your book carefully slipped away the moment your eyes landed on his figure. A quite lean and very muscular figure, at that.

You subtly watch as the man converses with the women, making them swoon at almost every word that leaves his enchanting lips. Your eyes trace his figure, taking in the expensive material of dress he wore on his back. His coat cinched around his waist almost too perfectly, making him all the more irresistible. You catch the sight of his rings around his beautifully thick, creamy toned fingers, and let out a disappointed sigh as he moves to shove his hand into the pocket of his perfectly fitted breeches.

Embarrassment quickly replaces your neediness as two mamas pass by you, following your entranced gaze over to the Viscount. You had been caught staring. Although you weren’t caught by the Viscount himself, you still felt your cheeks get hot as you were visibly noticed practically drooling over the man.

You let out a huff of air and stand to your feet, deciding you should head back home to start getting ready for the ball.

What you didn’t notice, however, was the way the Viscount’s eyes locked onto you as he spotted you crossing the street. He has stolen many glances at you over the past couple years every-time he’s seen you. You were beautiful, that much he knew. He also knew that your debut into society wasn’t the most successful as you still hadn’t managed to find a husband which happened to be from his doing. He has never even spoken to you once but he knew the moment he laid his eyes upon you, he had to have you, and he made quick work of letting every man of the ton know that you were off limits. You, however, had no idea that was the case of your suffering fate and he didn’t plan on telling you about it either.

♞ ♞ ♞

You watch the trees go by and listen to the sounds of the horse's hooves hitting the ground while you make your way to the ball in your carriage. The leaves were a beautiful green and the grass even greener and it made you smile. You always appreciated nature and how magical everything seemed to look whenever a new season had approached. In your gut you had hoped tonight would be the night you get to meet your future husband, as you were starting to grow very tired of waiting.

A sigh escapes your lips and you look down into your lap, suddenly very interested in watching the way your fingers toyed with the material of your dress. If you manage to fail yet another season, you might just give up. You looked exceptionally beautiful tonight, even you could admit. Dana sits across from you as she watches you silently battle yourself inside your own head.

She reaches forward and places one of her hands over your fidgeting fingers and says, "You will do amazing tonight. Don't worry yourself so much, you'll create wrinkles on your forehead."

You send a gentle smile her way and caress her hands into your own. Dana had always encouraged you no matter the day or the task at hand. She was so supportive of you, never faltering. You suppose it was because it was her job, but you and Dana had grown rightfully close over the years of her taking care of you. With your mother passing at a young age and your father going over seas, Dana was all you had. You couldn't feel more grateful.

"What will i do?" you ask, "If I don't find a husband surely I'll be ruined."

She frowns at the sight of you shutting down. Truthfully, Dana couldn't quite understand how you still haven't managed to wed since your debut. There was no gossip going around of you that would potentially scare any suitors away. Your looks were most definitely not the problem, as you were incredibly beautiful, even more beautiful than most ladies she had worked for in the past. In truth, she was just as confused as you were.

"Don't talk that way. You will find a husband, I'm sure of it. You are beautiful, smart, witty, and selfless. This season will be your season." She holds both of your hands into her own and her words make you smile. You trusted her with your life and she always saw the good in you. She knew the potential you had to become successful.

Now it was just you who needed to see it in yourself.

The carriage suddenly comes to a stop before the palace and your eyes sparkle as you take in the scenery. The hedges around the property were trimmed perfectly and the lights that shined around the palace twinkled in the most captivating way. You watch as a few ladies make their way inside, fans in hand. The goal for you tonight was to shine and continue to be the one thing you ever knew how to be, which was yourself.

"Go," Dana shoos you out of the carriage and gives you another look before sending you on your way. She moves a couple strands of hair that managed to fall out of place and smiles, "Perfection."

You wave to her as you begin to make your way to the entrance, your nerves suddenly making another appearance inside of your gut. You fix your posture as you started to slouch and you carefully run your fingers across the material of your dress, trying to rid the perspiration that managed to build up because of your nerves. Taking a deep breath, you begin to make your way inside.

Your eyes take in all of the pictures that hang the walls of the hallway. It's almost like you had never been here before, although you have a couple times in the past. The first ball of the season was always held at the Queen's palace, and the Queen made sure to keep it exceedingly presentable. You stop before one picture that catches your eyes above the rest. It was a picture of the Queen and her King when they were younger. She wore the most grand gown in the photo, as she always does, and King George stood beside her in all his gory. They looked proud and emanated power as they both stared into your soul. Oh how you longed to find a love like the Queen had.

"Are you not going to go inside?"

Your head whipped to the side as you curiously look to see who was speaking to you.

It was the Viscount.

You quickly bow, not wanting to seem disrespectful. "Lord Jeon, how lovely to see you."

His eyes never leave you, not even for a second. He takes you in from your head down to your toes, as if his eyes were drawing a map across your form. You always managed to clean up very nicely, from styling your hair into the most perfect way to picking the most gorgeous gown.

You began to feel rather small under his stare, nervously switching your weight from one foot to the other. At his delayed response, you begin taking him in as well. His waist coat fit his muscular body like a glove and his breeches, even more fitting. You could almost make out the shape of his body through the fabric, your eyes trailing the material. What a man the Viscount was. You look back up to his face, finding him already staring at you, and a blush creeps up to your cheeks.

"No escort?" he asks as he looks around the, now empty, hall. It seems everyone has already made their way into the ballroom.

"Oh, no. I don't ever have anyone to escort me to these sort of things," you let out a breathy chuckle and clasp your hands together for what seemed to be the tenth time tonight already.

A small smirk edges it's way onto his beautiful lips and he holds his arm out to you. "Well, what are we waiting for?"

Was the Viscount really offering to escort you into the ballroom? Surely he wouldn't want to be seen with a woman such as yourself, as you've had not a single suitor in the past two years. A man of such status would never.

However, he was the Viscount, and you would be absolutely insane if you didn't take him up on the offer.

You carefully outstretch your arm and rest your fingers into the crease of his elbow, allowing him to lead the two of you to the ballroom entrance. Your nerves seemed to spike even more now, causing you to slightly squeeze his arm. He notices the action and looks down to you, watching as your eyes bounce from one edge of the room to the other. With his other hand, he reaches over and allows it to rest on yours. This action causing your gaze to snap up to him.

"No need to be nervous. I got you." Your eyes fall to his lips as he utters the words and oh how perfect they looked as he attempted to comfort you, which had worked, by the way.

You give a curt nod and a tight lipped smile and allow him to escort you through the entrance.

Upon entry, everyone stopped their conversation and allowed their eyes to fall at the head of the room where you and Lord Jeon stood. You hear the whispers immediately from the mamas and their daughters as they wonder how you, a woman with no suitors and three seasons deep into society with not a single marriage proposal, had the Viscount on your arm.

You had to admit, you felt pretty powerful. Not that him escorting you to the ball meant anything. Perhaps he was just being nice, but you surly were not going to complain.

He leads you down the grand staircase and you make sure to try and watch your step so you don't happen to fall and embarrass yourself even more to the people who so clearly wanted to watch you fail. Your fingers tighten against his muscle once again as the two of you reach the bottom and begin taking in all the eyes that were now on the two of you. Had you been dreaming?

He doesn't make an effort to part from you, instead, he leads you over to the refreshments table and hands you a small glass of lemonade. He must have thought you were thirsty from the nerves attacking your body from the inside, which he would be right. You grab the glass and take a sip, instantly feeling a bit better. A massive sum of the people around you were still staring, but it seemed as most begin to indulge into their own conversations and even taking to the dancefloor.

A couple of women make their way to you, their fans in hand and their lashes fluttering in the Viscount's direction. You wanted to roll your eyes but stop yourself because in all honesty, you couldn't really blame them.

"Lord Jeon," one gushes as she bows before him, furiously fanning her bosom when she stands to meet his gaze. "What a lovely ball, don't you agree?"

You figured that maybe you should leave his presence and allow him to converse with the women, however, you feel his arm flex and tighten around your fingers just as you were about to let go. In turn, you decide to stay in place and you flash a fake smile to the woman before you.

"Oh," she says in a startling manner, "I didn't see you there Miss." You wanted to scowl at her for her very obvious condescending tone , yet decided against it because you were the one with the man she wanted at your side. It made you feel quite victorious in a way.

Alas, as soon as her attention was on you, it was gone in a second and back onto the Viscount. "Would you care to dance?" she asks, so shamelessly holding her hand out to him.

He gives her a warm smile and tugs you slightly closer into his side, "Pardon me, but I was actually about to ask Miss Y/L/N if she would like to join me on the floor." He looks down at you now, you not quite registering his advance just yet. You only look up to him when you see the woman in front of you shoot a venomous glare upon you.

"Of course," you say, barely above a whisper. You wanted to laugh in her face and maybe even throw an unpleasant gesture her way, but in turn you make the decision to be as graceful as you can in the matter. You turn to set your half empty glass of lemonade on the table behind you and allow him to lead you onto the floor.

If everyone was staring at you before, they surly were now as the two of you take your places into the center of the room and begin to dance. It was apparent to the Viscount that everyone in this room was envious of you, although you weren't aware. He knew every man wanted to have you and every woman wanted to be you. He couldn't blame you too much for your lack of observation because in your defense, no man had approached you for anything more than small conversation, too afraid of what the Viscount may do had they made an advances onto you.

"You must pity me." The words come out before you can stop them and you let out a small laugh. He ticks his head to the side, very obviously confused with your comment.

"Pity?" he questions. "Why would I pity you?" he follows up with another question just as he slightly spins you, pulling you in again.

It took you a bit off guard with the close proximity between the two of you being incredibly evident. You look up at him through your lashes and let out a small sigh. "Lord Jeon," you begin. "I just want you to know that you don't have to feel bad for me. I may not be able to get a husband but it doesn't mean I need you to try and help me."

Now it was his turn to be slightly taken off guard. You thought he was only being in your presence so that he could bring more attention towards you, in turn, helping you find a husband. You become quite nervous at his silence and the way he just stared at you, still dancing without missing a beat.

"You think I'm only dancing with you to help you find a husband?" he asks, spinning you another time. Your eyes drift slightly to the outskirts of the dancefloor, noticing how everyone was watching the two of you. Quite a few faces of disapproval look back at you and those of admiration aimed at the Viscount. Of course they were only interested because he was here.

"Is that not what you're doing?" you ask as you turn back to look at him. You were slightly surprised to see the longing in his eyes as he stared back at you. How could you possibly think he was only interested in helping you? How could you not know how beautiful you were, how the room went completely stiff upon your entrance? And now as everyone stops and watches the two of you dance together, you still think you aren't good enough to be looked at.

He shakes his head at your question and slightly dips you. Your breath quickens, as does his at the sight of your hair completely separating from your shoulders and fully exposing the expansion of your chest. Your bodice fit your body to perfection and in this moment it proved much more evident from what he observed upon first glance of you out in the hall.

You're picked back up into his arms in a rather slower pace than you expected, now rising to see his eyes buried into your skin even deeper than they were before. It's crazy how one can have such a way with words solely based of their eyes alone. His eyes spoke more than his mouth ever has, at-least to you, and it took your breath away. You can't help but just stare back, practically feeling yourself getting lost.

Unexpectedly, he leans closer and in a whisper he speaks, "You're entirely too beautiful to be pitied."

His words were soft and kind, and everything you didn't know you longed to hear from someone else. You certainly didn't expect them to come from a man of his rank. For a moment you don't know what to say and you don't catch the smirk that inches onto his face as he gently pulls you from the dance floor, you not realizing the song ended.

Among the next hour that passes, you and the Viscount fall into effortless conversation. He tells you of his travels and many successes in his life. He also tells you his name, Jungkook. You would never call him by his name, of course, but the fact he even felt comfortable enough to tell you raised a certain spark inside of you. You learned that he's kind, smart, and also quite funny. He had you giggling more times than you can count at his quick wit and charming playfulness. He also learned quite a bit about you, that you love to read, you liked to take your horse out to the field and enjoy fresh air and nature in general. You also shared his trait of being goofy and playful as the two of you threw jokes at each other here and there throughout the night. The biggest thing he learned was that your giggle was a sound that he truly felt blessed to be able to hear, causing him to not be able to stop coaxing that sound from you with his words. He wanted to draw that sound from you all night, never wanting it to leave his head even for a second.

A couple more hours pass and you were so embedded into your conversations with Jungkook that you didn't realize the ball was coming to an end and people began spilling out of the ballroom. Jungkook watches as your curious eyes sweep across the room and observe everyone as they ascend back up the stairs and out into the hall.

You turn your head back to Jungkook, once again catching him already looking at you, and you nudge your head towards the exit, "I think it's time the night has come to an end."

"It doesn't have to end though," he blurts and your eyes slightly widen. You try to process what he means by that as he grabs your hand into his and leads you both out of the room.

As you make your way outside you instantly notice how chilly the air has become, feeling the way it slightly licks at your skin, leaving goosebumps in it's wake. Jungkook notices and inches closer toward you, hoping he can radiate some body heat your way.

"That's my carriage," he says and points to an elegant looking black carriage pulling up to stop in front of the two of you. How would it look for you to be getting in his carriage with him at the end of the night? You look around you, watching to see if anyone notices. Everyone already looked down upon you as it is, so how would they react if they noticed you riding away with their lovely Viscount?

You feel a hand at the small of your back, slightly causing you to jump when you realize Jungkook is carefully pushing you towards the carriage for you to get in. Damn what the ton thinks, you think to yourself. You were certain Jungkook wouldn't put you in a position to have you under such scrutiny. You hardly knew him but you trusted him.

He slightly gulps as he catches sight of the stockings you wore as you lift your dress a little to climb up into the carriage. It made his body shudder as he was confronted with the pure want and need he had towards you, and yet you were all the more oblivious. He knew he wouldn't be able to get that image out of his head for quite some time.

He climbs in after you, settling into the seat across from you and instructed his driver to take the two of you to the nearest park. Before you can question him, you stop as you notice the sheepish look on his face before he spoke, "I thought we could sit and talk a bit more."

You smile at his words and give a small nod, yet you find it hard to look away from him. Usually you loved to watch as the trees passed by while you rode, enjoying and taking in the nature around you, but you simply couldn't tear your gaze away from him. Evidently he couldn't either, his eyes boring into yours with a sort of intensity.

One minute he's sheepishly smiling at you like a boy being caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and the next he's looking at you like he wants to tear your clothes off in that very moment. Admittedly, it makes your head spin. You slightly adjust in your seat and his eyes snap down at the movement. He felt as if there was a fog in his head, weighing down so heavily that he couldn't think straight when looking at you.

"Thank you for being by my side tonight. It was quite unexpected but I very much enjoyed it," you said, trying to break the ice and the staring contest between the two of you.

He gives you a boyish smile and nods in agreement. "It was very nice," he states, "I wouldn't have wanted to spend my time with anyone else."

His words take you back slightly. He didn't even know you, and to be quite fair, he has never really showed an interest in you before, so why now?

"Why tonight?" you ask, your judgement getting the best of you and causing you to blurt the question before you can think twice.

He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees as he looks into your eyes, into your soul. "I know it must be a surprise that I've shown up out of nowhere tonight, but to be honest, I've had my eye on you since you first debuted into society."

Now his words really caught you off guard.

You shake your head in confusion and lean forward yourself. "What does that even mean?" you ask, "You've had your eye on me for two years yet never spoken a word to me. Why?"

He can't really give you the answer that you deserve when it came to that kind of question. He really didn't even know the answer to it himself. He knew he always wanted you but he never found the right time to make it clear to you.

"My duty as a Viscount has kept me very busy these last few years. I haven't been Viscount for very long so when that role was passed down to me, I had quite a few tasks thrown at me, on top of my journey's to other countries. I couldn't find the right time to talk to you." You slightly squint your eyes at his confession, still not fully grasping the fact of why he never once acted on the way he's telling you that he's felt for quite some time.

On the other hand, you were confused how he even had an interest towards you at all. You always thought the men were repulsed by you, hence the fact you were still unmarried, not even being courted by any of the men of the ton.

"I'm just confused," you start, "I've only seen you a few times and in those times I've seen you, you've never once noticed me."

You begin to feel nervous under his intense gaze, not being able to read the emotion that currently flashes in his eyes. "Not that you've noticed," he admits, "I've seen you many times and trust me when i say, I can't help but notice you when you are near."

He slightly scoots closer, carefully grabbing your slightly shaky hands to hold into his own. The feeling you have when he's so close or when he's looking at you the way he is, is a feeling you can't describe, but it's also a feeling that you don't want to stop feeling. Ever.

You look down into your lap where your hands are connected and smile at the way his thumb caresses your skin, "I thought all of the men around here were repulsed by me." You look up and meet his confused stare.

"How can you believe such a thing? You are absolutely one of the most beautiful women I've ever laid my sights upon," your breath hitches as his hand comes to cup the side of your face, his pinky finger tracing down the skin of your neck so gently, "I knew when I saw you that I needed to have you." The last sentence comes from his lips in a whisper and you almost feel as though you are in a trance, just staring into his eyes, not able to notice how close he has managed to get to you now.

Is this a dream?, you wonder.

Out of everything that has happened to you over the past couple years, including tonight, you knew only one thing. You wanted the Viscount. You wanted him more than anything you've ever wanted in your life and now that he's right in front of you, sitting so close you can feel his breath tickling your skin, you didn't care if it had been a dream. You suppose there's only one way to find out if you truly are just dreaming.

You lean forward a couple more inches and plant your lips onto Jungkook's, instantly sighing at the sweet taste of him. He wastes no time in kissing you back, reaching up to grip both sides of your face with his hands. Turning your head slightly, he gains more access to your mouth and can't help but run his tongue across your lips, almost begging you for entry, which you grant to him with no hesitation. He kisses you as if his life depends on it and you realize you've never felt so euphoric in your entire life until this very moment. You pull away suddenly and only now you notice how he has sunken to his knees before you, looking up at you as he anticipates your next move.

You've always loved looking at the man before you, even if you never noticed him looking back. You've always dreamed of the day you got to run your fingers through his silky hair-

Giving into your thoughts, you reach up and slowly bury your fingers into the tresses of his black locks, meeting his gaze half way as his eyes bore into yours, almost pleading you. This was the second time tonight that Jungkook has made you feel so powerful. The feeling was addicting.

You run your fingers through his hair and rest your hand on the back of his head, biting your lip at the sight of him so vulnerable before you. He groans and rushes in to push his lips against yours with a force that has your back resting against the seat now. He never lets up, kissing you as if he's scared you'll be pulled from his embrace any moment now. Goosebumps rise on your skin a second time tonight as his fingers inch across your collarbone and carefully push your dress down your shoulder.

He pulls away and almost whines at the sight of your skin becoming more exposed to his eyes. Who knew he would be so hard at the sight of a woman's shoulder, for Christ's sake. You didn't quite realize the affect you had on the Viscount just yet, but he intended on showing you.

As fast as he pulled away, he leans back in even faster, attaching his lips to the underside of your chin. His lips move across your skin with such fever, it practically makes your head almost spin of your shoulders. You've never felt such...bliss, and he was barely even touching you.

Almost as if he read your mind, his hand slowly travels down to your ankle, pressing his fingers against your skin, before his hand disappears under your dress and dances up your leg. The softness in which he touched your skin left a fire in it's wake, making you slightly shake in excitement. He gives a warm smile at your reaction, indulging in the sounds your heavy breathes make. He watches the way your chest rises furiously, suppressing a groan at the perfect sight that was you.

He gives a questioning look as his fingers reach the inside of your thigh and he doesn't even need to ask before you're already nodding your head, looking at him pleadingly, which further drives him even more mad for you. Your small hands grip the expanse of his broad shoulders, the same ones you were drooling over earlier in the day, and your head leans back, the feeling of his fingers ghostly dancing over the material of your undergarments. His lips finally press against yours once again as he firmly presses his fingers against you, drawing the most beautiful sound from your throat.

It was hard for him to believe how warm and soft you felt against his rough fingers. He presses his fingers even further against you, becoming addicted to the way you felt under his touch. In turn, more noises were drawn from you and he knew he would never get tired of the way you sounded. He pushes your dress up so he can see the way you look beneath him and the sight is enough to turn a man insane. The expanse of your think thighs adorned in the beautifully delicious stockings you chose to wear for the occasion, almost calling his name to keep his eyes on you.

"Please," you whisper.

His head snaps up when he hears your whimper, the look on your face taunting him, coaxing him to touch you further. Jungkook likes to think he's quite the strong spirit, but he's never felt weaker as he has kneeling before you now. He gives into the soft sounds you make just for him and pushes his fingers past your undergarments, fully touching you. You instantly gasp and push yourself up further into his embrace, shocked by the feeling that was currently running through your body. You've never been touched this way and you were almost angry that you didn't get to experience this until now.

The only barrier between the two of you is broken as he slowly pushes two fingers inside of you, watching intently at the faces you make. You let out a drawn out moan and pull him closer until his face is practically into your neck. He takes the opportunity to plant his mouth against your skin, feeling your pulse beneath his tongue, and you shudder at the warmth that consumes you.

"You're so perfect," he grunts as he pushes his fingers deeper, causing you to gasp for the millionth time. His eyes fall to your chest once again, watching it rise and fall almost in a pattern. He's thrusting his fingers into you faster, with more purpose, manually reaching inside of you for the delightful sounds you offer to him so easily.

You thread your fingers into his hair again, ever so slightly pulling when he reaches a spot inside of you that has your toes curling. He was making you feel so wonderful, a feeling you never wanted to go away. A feeling you wanted him to provide for you every single day as long as you live. Your eyes flutter open as you look up at him, the sight causing an unfamiliar feeling to bubble inside of you. His hair was slightly damp from sweat, his eyes producing a fire you've never witnessed, all the while his fingers moved inside of you much faster than before.

There's a feeling rising inside of you that causes you to arch your back and slightly constrict your legs around Jungkook's incredibly lean waist. The sounds are pouring from you now like a mantra as you desperately claw at his shoulders, pulling him impossibly closer to your form.

"You can do it baby," he whispers, egging you on before planting his face into your chest and beginning to take the supple flesh of your breast into his mouth. That's all it took to have you falling apart beneath him. Your muscles constrict and his name comes flowing from your mouth like a chant, further proving to him how undoubtedly perfect you were.

You lay still, breathing heavily as he removes his digits from your body and smooths your dress back into place. He carefully places your sleeve back up your shoulder and pushes a piece of hair behind your ear. You watch him the whole time, admiring how determined he looked. Your words were hidden in your gut as you keep your eyes on him. Soon, you realize his carriage stops before his house and you turn to him, confused.

Jungkook hops out effortlessly and holds his hand out to you. "Well, are you coming?" he asks.

Your eyes scan before his home, taking in the beautifully structured building. As you part your lips to ask him why you were here, he steps closer and gently caresses your chin in his hands.

"If you're to become by wife, you need to meet my family."

♞ ♞ ♞

[frost-queen]

The moment I knew series

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ──── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Tewkesbury ✧ reader!Bridgerton

🎀 part 1

🎀 part 2

🎀part 3

🎀 part 4

🎀 part 5

🎀 part 6

🎀 part 7

🎀part 8

🎀 part 9

🎀part 10 | final

[captainsophiestark]

A Perfect Match

Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2023!

Fandom: Bridgerton

Day 19 Prompt: "What if we're wrong?"

Summary: Anthony and Y/N have been dancing around each other for far too long. Benedict and Colin decide to do something about that.

Word Count: 1,726

Category: Fluff, minor angst

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

Benedict's POV

"Colin!" I hissed, poking my head into the study where my brother sat journaling about his travels. He looked up at me like he had no idea why I could be bothering him. "Lady Y/N is here."

"Oh!"

He shot out of his seat, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. We'd only been putting together our plan to get her and my brother together for a week. How he could've forgotten was beyond me.

"Alright, she's having tea with Eloise in the drawing room. I'm going to go get her and bring her to Anthony's study," I said as Colin and I walked through the halls. "You just be ready to come give me a reason to leave once we're in there."

Colin nodded, then paused.

"Benedict? What if we're wrong? About their feelings?"

I sighed. Anthony and Y/N truly did butt heads at every opportunity as if they hated each other. But it was hard to miss the longing looks and the way one of them got distracted just by the other walking into the room. I shrugged.

"Well, I suppose if we're wrong, they'll probably kill us."

Colin gave me a look, but I completely ignored it as I marched into the drawing room.

****************

Y/N's POV

"Y/N!"

I turned from my tea and the book spread between me and Eloise at the sound of Benedict's voice, giving him a friendly smile as he entered the room.

"Hello, Benedict. Lovely to see you."

"Likewise. Actually, I was wondering if you could spare a moment to accompany me upstairs? Anthony mentioned needing to see you for something, and I told him that since I was on my way down, I'd bring you back up."

"Anthony wanted to see me?" I asked, working very hard to keep my tone neutral. Benedict nodded.

"Yes, if you don't mind."

"Actually, we do mind," Eloise chimed in. "Tell Anthony he can get his own friend."

"Eloise, Mother wanted to see you as well," Benedict responded smoothly. "She's in the garden."

Eloise narrowed her eyes, and I watched the staring contest develop like a tennis match. Finally, after a few moments, Eloise gave in and stood with a sigh.

"Fine. I shall go find her. But if this is a ruse, Benedict-"

"For what purpose? You are entirely too suspiscious sister."

I hid a laugh behind my hand as Eloise glared at Benedict on her way out of the room. I truly loved the Bridgertons, and watching them interact was more entertaining than the most competitive horse race.

"Lady Y/N," said Benedict, offering his arm to me with a smile. I took it, my mind racing as Benedict and I made our way upstairs. Anthony and I had a rather unusual relationship, and although I'd never admit it, I had developed strong feelings for the Viscount over the course of knowing him. The curiosity over why he wanted to see me was eating me alive.

"Did Anthony mention what he wished to discuss?" I asked, trying to keep my tone casual.

"No, he only asked me to hurry," Benedict responded. We reached the door, and Benedict held it open for me. "After you."

I stepped inside, feeling a bit nervous. Anthony was hard at work, scribbling away at papers on his desk, but he looked up when he saw me.

"Lady Y/N! Hello, uh..." He cleared his throat and shuffled some of the papers into a neater pile absentmindedly.

"Here she is, brother, like you asked," said Benedict as he came to stand beside me. Anthony's brow furrowed like he was confused, but Colin poked his head into the study before Anthony could say anything.

"Benedict!" said Colin. "Mother sent me, she needs to see you immediately."

Now it was my turn to be a bit confused, especially as Benedict grimaced like Colin had some something wrong. Before I could say anything, however, Benedict was moving quickly towards the door.

"Right, well, then I'd better not keep her waiting."

With that, he and Colin ducked into the hall, closing the door behind them. A moment later I heard the door lock, and then a sound like something heavy being pushed against it from the other side.

"Did they just..."

I stared in shock at the door for a few moments, whirled around to look at Anthony, then turned back to the door again. Benedict and Colin had just locked me in here, with Anthony, who looked as surprised as I did.

After a long moment of inaction, Anthony pushed back from his desk and quickly crossed the room. I watched as he tried the door and it didn't budge, then tried it again. Finally, he shoved it a bit with his shoulder as if it were stuck, and still nothing worked.

"Benedict! Colin!" he shouted through the door. No response.

"Anthony?" He whirled around to face me, eyes a little wild. "Did you actually ask Benedict to bring me up here to talk about something?"

"What? No, I haven't seen Benedict all morning."

I crossed my arms and shook my head, turning away from Anthony.

"I can't believe those two. I can't believe them."

"What are you talking about?"

I huffed an irritated sigh, then answered without turning around.

"Benedict dragged me away from tea with Eloise, telling me you'd asked to see me, right away. I don't know what on earth he and Colin were thinking, but now I'm stuck in here with you-"

I stopped abruptly, not trusting myself to continue speaking. Anthony and I butted heads plenty, but there was no denying how much I enjoyed spending time with him. Sparring with him when we disagreed and never feeling angry, just excited. Laughing as he complained about having to participate in the season but feeling jealous when one of the other girls or Mamas got their hands on him... I loved him. But I wasn't sure I wanted to admit it.

"Is it really so awful?"

Anthony's voice was thick, more vulnerable than I'd really ever heard it before. I turned around to fix him with a questioning look, and he held my eyes, although he looked ready to run at a moment's notice. Unfortunately for him, we had nowhere to go.

"Is it really so awful to be stuck in here with me?" Anthony continued when I didn't answer him. "Do you really hate me so much?"

My heart shattered in my chest, especially at the tentative sadness in his voice. My answer didn't come right away, and after a second or two of silence, Anthony turned away.

"I'm sorry. Forget I said anything-"

"Anthony no I- I'm sorry." I started crossing the room to him, but stopped halfway, thinking better of it. "I have fun giving you a hard time and arguing over silly things with you. But if I've done that to the point that you feel I truly hate you... then I'm sorry, I should never have let it go that far."

Anthony turned to face me again, a guarded expression on his face.

"So you do not hate me?"

"No. Quite the opposite, actually."

I took a deep breath, steeling myself to say what I needed to say next. I trusted Benedict and Colin not to do this to me unless they had some idea that my feelings for Anthony were mutual. Hopefully, that trust wasn't misplaced, but even if it was, denying my feelings had only hurt Anthony and I both. It had to end.

"Anthony, I'm sure this will be considered entirely too forward for me to say as a lady, but... I rather think I love you. You challenge me in a way no other man ever has, and when we are aligned, our teamwork knows no equal. There may be other men who would treat me well, and there may even be other men who would respect me as a partner, but none of them would be you. You, Anthony... you are my perfect match. And if I've led you to believe I hated you, then I am truly sorry. I assure you I do not."

Anthony just stared back at me, not taking his eyes off me the entire time I spoke. He didn't respond right away after I finished, still just staring, his expression unreadable. I started to sweat and fidget, immediately regretting my words and wishing I could take them back.

"You know, Anthony, actually-"

Before I could finish the thought, Anthony rushed to close the rest of the distance between us, sweeping me off my feet and spinning me around in his arms. I yelped, but when he set me down, we both had massive smiles on our faces.

"I apologize. That was rather improper of me," he said, not sounding the least bit sorry. I smiled back and leaned into him a little more.

"No more improper than my confession, or your brothers locking us in this room together."

Anthony hummed, leaning into me and pulling me close to him again, one hand tangling in my hair as he murmured into my ear.

"I feel the same, you know. I have for some time. I just never imagined that you would care for me as much as I cared for you."

I smiled, wrapping my arms tight around Anthony and holding him close. After a few seconds, we pulled apart, and although I wanted to kiss him, badly, I held back. We'd already crossed quite a few scandalous lines, after all. And now that I knew he felt the same way as I did, I didn't think I'd have to wait long for our courtship to make quite a few more things I wanted to do 'acceptable'.

"I suppose we owe your brothers a thank you for getting us to confess our feelings to each other," I said with a sigh. Anthony scoffed.

"Absolutely not. They still tricked us and physically locked us in a room. No matter how happy I am with the results, they deserve some payback."

I grinned. "I was hoping you'd say that."

Anthony led me back over to his desk where the two of us sat shoulder to shoulder, plotting and planning the downfall of his brothers. I had no idea how long they intended to leave us in this room, but every additional minute meant more time to plan revenge.

Happily, it also meant more time with Anthony. And with any luck, the rest of my life would be filled with more time with Anthony.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury

[yona049]

𝕻𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖔𝖒 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕺𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖆 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

Part 2

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Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

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Disclaimer!

This is a story following the events after the Phantom of the Opera (2004) and only follows the movie and not any other adaptations!

This has evolved into its own story, if its not something you're interested in, feel free to skip this one and check out some other fics on my page! °v°

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Morning came swift and fast. Y/n woke up on the bed with a heavy headache and a growling stomach.

She slowly looked around noticing their very small room they had only one night to stay in. Old cardboard like curtains and molding wooden floor boards.

A very large difference from what Y/n knew. The Opera house had wooden platforms, but the outer walls were made of white stone and elegant sculptures of gold or marble. Rooms shared with other dancers, but still adequate for a living environment.

She looked around realizing Erik was no where to be seen. She couldn't remember what happened after her exhausted breakdown the night before.

She sat up with hair standing in every possible direction, a telling of their troubles from the previous day.

She lifted the covers from her body but stopped just before she got up. Erik had tucked her in, keeping her warm from the Inn's little to no thermal mass.

Her ears perk when she hears a gentle singing float through the hallways of the shabby Inn coming ever closer.

The door handle rattles and Y/n smiles knowing it was Erik coming in, she stood up to welcome him.

Just as she sprung to her feet, her legs give way too the night before, when she was in too much of a rush to stretch or do the needed warm-ups.

She braced to fall into the wooden floor with every muscle in her arms and neck tensing up.

She's pleasantly greeted with warm arms and a strong chest. Erik grabs her biceps with stable hands and lifts her to her feet again. He wore the same cloth mask on his face that Y/n had created for him and was fully dressed for an outing.

"Y/n, I would suggest you keep to the bed for today."

Y/n smiled at their sudden greeting, and quickly it turned to a giggle which spread to Erik who gave a small chuckle.

When Y/n was sat back on the bed Erik put a bag of Bread in her lap, then took off his coat and tossed it onto the bed.

"Where did you get this?" Y/n said surprised before breaking a bit off the loaf and giving in to her hunger.

"I spotted one of the ogling, basterd, patrons who was in the tavern last night, walking out of the bakery."

Erik rubs his fist in thought while looking out of the window.

"He clearly didn't need the food as much as we did."

Y/n stopped chewing and only stared at Erik in shock with bread filled cheeks.

Erik looks at her unfazed before taking the other half of bread from her hands, giving her a small pat on the head.

Y/n knew it wasn't the right thing to do at all, however she was well aware of their predicament.

Finishing a small breakfast Y/n dusted off her hands and tried to stand again only for Erik to glare at her until she sat back down.

Y/n plopped back onto the bed with her cheap dress catching the air and puffing up.

"Well I can't just sit and do nothing all day! I need to do more to help our situation!" she wined making Erik smirk again.

"Y/n my darling, you've done enough." he said sitting at the foot of the bed.

In a moment of silence Y/n suddenly was reminded of all the ugly men that watched her dance, touching her, whispering hideous things that they'd do to her.

She pulled her knees to her chest and hid her face from Erik.

"I'm sorry you had to see that. You must regret comforting me last night." she whispers feeling her breakfast want to comeback up, out of the disgust she felt for herself.

Another second of silence passes until Y/n felt Eric lift her hand and place a delicate kiss on her dry knuckles.

"The only thing I regret, my dear, is not having the strength to strangle every drunken, gibfaced, blunderbussed, Fool who dared look at you."

He moves a hand to cup Y/n's face and lightly stroke her cheek.

"Seeing you be belittled to a mere piece of meat, instead of the brilliant dancer you are, made me angry, too angry."

His teeth clench and his jaw turns into a sneer.

"What I did to the ogling basterd was well deserved."

Y/n felt her eyes widen. A comforting message may have turned into a bloody confession.

Her eyes travel to Erik's clothes, how she didn't see the very small splatter of blood on his shirt made her wonder if she'd missed anything similar in the past.

Before she could fully register what she'd just heard, Erik stood up quickly and took a coat from where he'd tossed it.

"I suggest you rest your legs and body, It's my turn to help our situation."

He turns back to a still stunned Y/n. Only offering a smile before he opened the door.

"I will return soon. Ignorant fool's will never lay eyes on you again. No longer will this barkeep share in your triumph."

With those words he closed the door.

Y/n spent the day deep in thought. Massaging her legs as she was taught to do if her legs cramped and pained.

She felt a warmth in her chest and a smile pulled at her cheeks when she thought of Erik's words, to keep her from basterds eyes.

Then she thinks of the blood splatter and the warmth is quickly frozen over when the chills run up her spine.

Would Erik hurt her if she stepped out of line? Would he teach her to behave as her father did when her dancing wasn't done to perfection.

Anxiety caused her to chew on her thumb nail, a habit she'd thought she'd grown out of. She quickly tried to keep her hands busy to avoid the habit resurfacing.

She closed her eyes and once again tried to get some rest before she fell into deep sleep.

Y/n woke up later that day when the sun was just setting with a heavy banging on the door.

Without warning, spare keys unlock the door and Y/n shoots up straight with the blanket held to her chest.

The inn keeper still wearing a apron with beer stains and a thick cigar in his mouth, walks in.

"Your rent is up! And customers are waiting for the pretty girl to dance again!"

He grabs Y/n by the wrist and drags her towards the door.

Y/n growls and uses her fist to hit his hand that held her.

"Let GO! You have no right to demand this!"

The inn keeper snorts not even looking at her until he's dragged her towards the door. His body spins back to her and he yanks her close.

"Listen girl! You will dance again tonight!"

Y/n shuts her eyes tight and she looks away from the owners disgusting breath and smoked cigar that was in her face.

"She will do no such thing!"

Y/n suddenly smiles hearing Erik's voice and looks back to see Erik had yanked the mans fingers off her wrist and swung him against the wall and onto the floor.

Erik didn't waste a moment in cupping Y/n's face, looking her up and down. He lifts her wrist up delicately and places a kiss on the bruise the Inn keeper had left.

"We're leaving." he said sternly.

Y/n agrees and grabs hold of all their belongings before the keeper could recover off the floor.

They walked down the stairs past the patrons who whistled as soon as they spotted Y/n, but one growl from Erik caused a sudden silence.

That wasn't enough for one gentlemen who managed to sneak up behind Y/n and pull her into a drunken hug.

"Hello, love!" he slurred as he lifted Y/n off her feet.

Still connected by hand, Erik punches the Drunkerd square in the nose and into the wall.

Chaos spreads across the Bar and everyone objects to the actions made. Tho before things got too out of hand the Inn keepers voice spreads through the bar, sending everyone once again into silence.

"That's ENOUGH!"

Erik had pushed Y/n against the wall behind him, shielding her. Her hand still held his and the other on his chest.

The Bar keeper looks Erik dead in the eyes and walks straight past him outside and motioned him to follow.

Once again out in the cold in the street, the Bar keeper pushes his cigar into the snow on the windowsill of the inn.

Erik and Y/n now out in the open ready to run as soon as its needed stood infront of him still on guard.

Finally the inn keeper states his business.

"Look, We both have something the other needs. I need the little lady to keep patrons coming in, and you need a living area, yeah?"

Erik glares him down.

"I will not stand for men touching her-"

The keeper interrupts.

"Let me finish! If she keeps dancing, I'll hire you to watch her. I'll include a living space and coins if you guard the bar and break up bar fights too. You're a strong lad. And you've got a scary look to ya!"

Y/n was deep in thought considering all the possibilities, then she quickly mentions.

"Add three meals a day and you've got a deal!"

Erik's hand squeezes hers as an objection but let's her finish.

"One meal!" the keeper argues.

"Two and I'll dance in the mornings too!"

The keep thinks for a moment before looking at Erik's scary face and deciding it might not be a bad trade.

He nods and extends his hand. Before Y/n took it she pulled Erik aside when he immediately objects.

"This is foolish, Y/n"

"It's a living Erik. It's a good trade, we won't get another chance like this. Just for now, just until I know we can live without worry."

He looks down still feeling unsure. Y/n delicately cups his cheek and rubs it with her thumb.

"Let's do it together, I know you'll watch over me."

Erik sighs heavily and nods in agreement.

Y/n smiles and kisses Erik's cheek then shakes the keepers hand.

The keeper smiles and turns back to the inn.

"C'mon! I owe ya a meal. The names Boris!"

Y/n Finally let's go of Erik's hand and Follows Boris into the inn once more.

Erik pauses immediately when he hears an echo down the street, a familiar voice. His eyes travel around until he finally sees another large opera house not far from the old Palais Garnier.

"Christine.."

He mumbles feeling an ache in his chest, he pulls out a ring from his pocket, the ring Christine gave him right after their final meeting.

His lips twist into a clenched growl and he takes a step forward towards the Opera house.

"Erik?"

Another voice stops him, not Christine, But Y/n from inside the Inn. Erik glances back to Christine before shaking his head and pushing the ring back into his pocket.